As some of you know or have heard by now, I recently flew
home to be with my family and visit my Granddaddy for a few days. This visit
was very unexpected, bittersweet reunion for me. I was sitting in a random
little internet café somewhere down some alley in Morogoro, Tanzania using my
30 mins. of communication for the week catching up on my emails. Trying to read
as many emails as possible in my short frame of time, I was scrolling down
trying to see which ones I should read 1st since I knew there was no
way to get thru all of them when my eye caught one titled “Granddaddy.”
My heart dropped because it is very
rare that my dad will email me anything other than the forwards that fill my
inbox. A few days prior to flying home I found out that my Granddaddy has stage
4 lung cancer. I lost it. As if I don’t already stand out enough being the only
“Mzungu” (white) girl in a room full of black Tanzanian men…and tears streaming
from my eyes definitely didn’t help me blend in anymore. I pulled it together
to try to see past my tears and blurry vision to finish reading past the only
words I needed to see “Granddaddy” and “cancer” to find out the doctor actually
was very optimistic about his situation. Despite Granddaddy’s age of 92 yrs.
the doctor said he needed to stay positive because he was in better shape then
some 40 yr. olds…and with chemo….
I felt frustration that he had lung
cancer…of all the different things to be sick with…why that, God? I couldn’t
help remember the story my Granddaddy had shared with me a few years prior
about how when he was late teens/early twenty’s he smoked because it was new
but right when the news came out that it could harm or kill you he quit
immediately. I know smoking is not the only reason someone may get lung
cancer…but I couldn’t stop my mind in that split second to just going towards
anger. The truth is I will never know how or why he got lung cancer, and I can
say now that is okay…I don’t have to know because ultimately God is still
sovereign so the why/how/everything else I’ve thought doesn’t matter. God is
still good. I can’t even begin to explain all the emotions that were running
through me, but most of all my heart just hurt for him and selfishly thinking
about what I was losing.
said that chemotherapy was not going to work. The chemo knocked him out- he
went from doing okay to not even knowing what was going on (took too much
out him). After one treatment my father was emailing me telling me that he and
his brothers had decided to not treat it…apparently it would only give him 3 to
4 months more (and quality of life is huge to him). I hate that I did not get to
contact my family, friends, and supporters beforehand to communicate
what was
going on (& for that I’m sorry…but it prob. would have made coming
home even
harder b/c I wasn’t there for me),
but I literally decided and
was flying out of Africa on my way back to the U.S. within 2 days of my
decision
barely even getting to share my flight schedule with my parents (let’s
just say
I was lucky to have a ride home from the airport).
Words can not express how thankful
I am that I got to spend sweet, precious time with my Granddaddy. We even got to
make pancakes together for breakfast one last time. Though he did complain
because I “slept in” till 8:30 a.m. (which I felt like after 2 days of travel & jet lag anything before 9 a.m. was doing good). I still will never think “sleeping in” is
anything before 10 a.m. I have to remember that this is coming from a man that
when I asked what time to come to his house his response was:
“Granddaddy, 5 p.m. …that doesn’t give much time” he replies, “no, 5 a.m.”-
reassuring him that would not be a problem!
don’t take one moment for granted. “There is a time for everything and a season
for every activity under heaven…”. Ecc. 3:1-8 Share the good news with others- don’t hesitate- life’s too short.
importantly LOVE!
& miss you all!
ps. update on this past month in Africacoming soon
