It really is Friday (night) and Sunday’s coming, but it doesn’t feel much like it yet. I have a feeling that Saturday is going to be around for awhile no matter if the calendar says that this Sunday is Easter. It would be nice to throw off the grave (bed) clothes and emerge all light and happy and beautiful, but I’m guessing that is still aways off.

I did get to make two brief forays out into the world that weren’t for tests or doctor appointments. Nice. Tomorrow I’m planning on my first walk out in the sunshine.

I’m mostly finished with pain pills, though I still ache a lot of the time with strange burning sensations in my right arm and side from the node dissection. Movement is still limited but it is getting better.

I’ve stayed awake longer each day and have managed to organize some of my genealogy papers. I framed some family pictures and bought some shelves and picture hangers for an inspirational wall next to my bed.

I’ve tried to process some of my emotions but mostly feel surprised by the whole thing–cancer, surgery, and all that is ahead. I’ve read a few books by cancer survivors, ordered two cancer treatment cookbooks and even–finally–poked around on the Internet for suggestions (not medical advice) but it all seems very unreal and not all that interesting.

I’ve been overwhelmed by all the kindness of our friends, family and co-workers. We’ve eaten well (lots of beautiful salads 😉 and had cards, calls, and gifts aplenty. My brother David and his wife, Joann are driving down from Detroit to “do” Easter for us and today, Laura and Patti came and cleaned house so we’d be ready for company. Lots and lots of people have said they’re praying. (Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I’d like to say that what I’ve felt the most is “peace” and maybe that’s true. it’s hard to know if it’s really peace or if it’s apathy or just whatever one feels in a survival mode. I’m reminded of the months following Lizi’s premature birth and Laura’s hand surgery. (One week we watched our 4 lb daughter have hernia surgery, followed by a night in the hospital, back pain (me) and then 4-year old Laura’s accident with a cheese shredder and emergency surgery. The months that followed were filled with trying to nurture a premie while going for follow up appointments and physical therapy.) We made it through that stressful year but I remember being disappointed that we’d just “survived,” that it hadn’t been a deeply spiritual year.

With all the talk of cancer survival, it almost seems mundane. The radical surgery and toxic chemotherapies seem more dramatic than necessary. I can mentally assent to the fact that if I didn’t follow the treatment protocols, my life would be endangered, but it doesn’t really feel that way. Cancer still feels like a huge alteration of my plans for the year. I’m pretty sure I’ll survive, but something in me wants so much more than that.

This weekend, while the world is celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I want to feel something stronger than survival. I’ve been a follower of Christ for more than 50 years–yikes! I’ve had a good, but challenging life. I believe that God is personally involved in the details of my life, though I no longer think my life is at the center of His universe or plan. I like all the metaphors of Him remodeling my cottage or wielding the pruner’s (surgeon’s) knife, but what I’d really like is a little glimpse or taste of joy this Easter weekend, of something better than surviving. A taste of heaven.

And not just for me–I hope you get a taste of heaven too! Happy Easter.