A holy reunion: The night before the cancer news
This post continues my look back on my cancer story that began with this post. (I'd rate this one PG-13.)
The Sunday night I returned from the conference, the house was still empty as my husband and children were also away for the weekend visiting family. In a way, it was a small blessing to come home to the quiet, as I had a few hours to reflect on all I had learned and experienced. I knew I was in a deep state of grace. I also knew that sooner or later I'd hear the news regarding my biopsy. It was a kind of pause, a time to inhale the blessings of the moment and exhale the lingering cares...
Bob and the children came home in bustling fashion and it was good to be in their company once again. Three kids finally got tucked into bed and Bob and I had time to visit with each other.
Our reunion as husband and wife later that night was truly passionate, and yet, emotional since it was the first time we made love since the breast surgery. I don't think I'll ever forget, nor did I ever feel more loved by my husband than when he bent his head down to kiss my scar. All those wonderful years together celebrating countless intimacies, boiled down to this moment, this moment of truth: one of us is wounded, and the other is cover and protection. And love for the wounded one allows the other to somehow enter into the woundedness, thereby freeing both to transcend it.
What a gift that moment was. A moment of mercy, dripping with grace, that only a sacramental union can bear. That was to be the last time we made love before the "official" diagnosis of my cancer.
It was a demonstration of a soul's lifetime vow that transcended the physical body... a renewal of love that was to become the foundation of restoration and recovery for both of us in the years ahead.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
The Sunday night I returned from the conference, the house was still empty as my husband and children were also away for the weekend visiting family. In a way, it was a small blessing to come home to the quiet, as I had a few hours to reflect on all I had learned and experienced. I knew I was in a deep state of grace. I also knew that sooner or later I'd hear the news regarding my biopsy. It was a kind of pause, a time to inhale the blessings of the moment and exhale the lingering cares...
Bob and the children came home in bustling fashion and it was good to be in their company once again. Three kids finally got tucked into bed and Bob and I had time to visit with each other.
Our reunion as husband and wife later that night was truly passionate, and yet, emotional since it was the first time we made love since the breast surgery. I don't think I'll ever forget, nor did I ever feel more loved by my husband than when he bent his head down to kiss my scar. All those wonderful years together celebrating countless intimacies, boiled down to this moment, this moment of truth: one of us is wounded, and the other is cover and protection. And love for the wounded one allows the other to somehow enter into the woundedness, thereby freeing both to transcend it.
What a gift that moment was. A moment of mercy, dripping with grace, that only a sacramental union can bear. That was to be the last time we made love before the "official" diagnosis of my cancer.
It was a demonstration of a soul's lifetime vow that transcended the physical body... a renewal of love that was to become the foundation of restoration and recovery for both of us in the years ahead.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
posted by Pat Gohn at
5/24/2006
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