surrounded

Two uncles, my great-grandmother, paternal grandmother, a dear friend and co-worker, a cousin, a neighbor who has moved away since but a twice-survivor, my next door neighbor, a sister-in-law's mother, a special someone's father and his friend, maybe now a student of mine. 

I can't take anymore. I can take it, I guess, but I don't want to take it. I don't want to be surrounded by all this suffering. I don't want to feel like I'm being prepared to handle this hitting even closer to home. The tears are bitter enough as it is loving people so much and wondering what it all has to teach me and those around me. These tears have hardly stopped today. I can't seem to turn them off. 

But here's a tough thing—knowing that we are brought to know more about ourselves and life and love and God through suffering and comforting and loving people instead of closing ourselves off. 

That's why I'll have to take more. I'd rather cry bitter tears of worry and mourning than cut myself off from loving others as much as I do. Love makes it all worth it. Love and faith get me through when hope is challenged. Hope never really goes away with me, for it reminds me that heaven isn't so far away. Maybe I just needed to write all this out to remind myself of how much comfort I am able to give and receive daily. Possibly I only needed to remember that if I can have this much love, God has even more, and everything will be okay. 

Heaven is here within the hope, faith, and charity I hold onto despite being surrounded by this thing we call cancer.