I spent last month in conversations and meetings with the genetics program at MacMaster Hospital. I was sent there from my supportive family doctor. We met to discuss the type of cancer that Marisa had and what that means long and short term for our daughters as breast cancer can be genetic. My mom came with me. It was good to have her even though the irony of that is thick. My mom coming to a meeting about my girls who don’t have a mom.
When I got a letter back from the genetics program, it was a glorious, warm day. After school we were all playing in our backyard. Jacoba and Zekijah were running in the field chasing each other. I went in to check on supper.
I grabbed the letter from the geneticists. I read it.
I looked up from my letter. I saw Jacoba’s long blong hair bounce up and down as she chased Zekijah while their face gave the sun a soft and purposeful place to land.
And I was reading the letter about her dead mom.
It was yet another reminder that what happened to Marisa and us has no finite end. And the truth is sometimes I yearn for that. Sometimes I wish I could have a day, week, moment off from this.
But alas, that is not the case.
Life 
8 comments
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April 15, 2009 at 10:14 pm
sonja
I wish you could have a break too. So sorry you can’t on this earth.
April 16, 2009 at 8:00 am
Pot
The conversations with genetics… Sometimes ignorance is bliss and sometimes the ignorance brings you to your knees. Thankfully, that’s the position for prayer.
I understand, but in a different way, the desire for a breather. Oh to be lost in the moment instead of finding those boot straps you’re supposed to pull up and plough forward.
But, hey, the hair needs to be braided, the nutella needs to be spread, and bums and noses need to be wiped. Thanks be to God for our kids, eh?
SPot
April 16, 2009 at 11:12 am
Roads
Yes, genetics. We had a similar run with the Royal Marsden Hospital in London. Nothing found, so far.
It’s immensely worrying, I agree. Wishing you all the very best for your investigations with MacMaster.
April 17, 2009 at 8:45 am
sandie vreugdenhil
hi
I want to thank you for your blog. it has given me honest hope. In september 2007 my husband was diagnosed with medulloblastoma, a brain cancer. he is doing fine now, but I have been so frightened. i have even went through a time of cutting my emotions off so i wont hurt so much when the time comes. I am amazed at your honesty and your willingness to engage with your emotions. Publicly. it seems impossible for me. we have two children. Anna, 3 and Joel 5. when I think about them losing their dad it breaks my heart. so reading about the past year and a half for you and your kids has been overwhelmingly encouraging. thank you Mendelt. Sandie Vreugdenhil
April 19, 2009 at 5:06 pm
sandra vreugdenhil
hey, I was wondering if you know Thrice. the band. I love the lyrics of “for miles” I hope you like them too.
THRICE LYRICS
“For Miles”
I know one day, all our scars will disappear, like the stars at dawn
and all of our pain, will fade away when morning comes
and on that day when we look backwards we will see, that everything is changed
and all of our trials, will be as milestones on the way
and as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone’s broken heart
and there’s no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends
on that day all of the scales will swing to set all the wrongs to right
all of our tears, and all of our fears will take to flight
but until then all of our scars will still remain, but we’ve learned that if we’ll
open the wounds and share them then soon they start to heal
as long as we live, every scar is a bridge to someone’s broken heart
and there’s no greater love, than that one shed his blood for his friends
we must see that every scar is a bridge, and as long as we live
we must open up these wounds
when some one stands in your shoes and will shed his own blood
there’s no greater love. we must open up our wounds
*********************************************************
And if you have not heard this song, it is a must hear. Thanks again for your honesty. sandie
April 20, 2009 at 2:01 pm
Ericka
I just wanted you to know that I continue to think of and pray for your family. We recently had a cancer scare when my 7 year old’s routine blood work came back looking like leukemia. Having to consult with an oncologist just days before his 7th birthday was a nightmare. But its one we were relieved from when more test results freed us from the fear of cancer. It gave me just a very small taste of the valley that cancer brings. My heart has been all the more softened for those who must walk that path without relief. Please know that I pray for you and your children, that God would carry you when you cannot take the next step, that He would strengthen you, equip you, comfort you, gird you, sustain you, and hold you.
And what a sweet, sweet thought to know that your precious Marisa celebrated Easter in the presence of the risen Savior.
April 22, 2009 at 9:38 am
Ken & Dana Huizinga
Mendelt,
We think about you often. In just the little things that happen every day, the things we sometimes just take for granted. The things that we sometimes wish were different but know that we cannot go back and change them. They were all apart of God’s plan. Why and how things happen sometimes we will never know or understand. The little things that you would like to be able to share with your wife, it is no longer possible. We pray that God may continue to give you the strength each and every day. TO make it through all the little things that seem so insignificant to others. Your children are beautiful and I can see their mother shining through their smiling faces. Stay strong Mendelt, trust in God to carry you when you feel you can’t go on, lean on your family and friends to help you through. And know there is always someone praying for you.
With all our love,
Ken and Dana Huizinga
April 23, 2009 at 9:03 pm
Margie Morey
I sometimes wonder if God thinks like that while he waits for his plan to unfold the rest of the way. May you continue to find grace for each moment.