There I was, kneeled down saying night prayers with one of my sons, and I knew God was listening. I knew He was in the room. I felt as if my knees would melt into the atmosphere.

I was there and I wasn’t.

“Our Father, which art in Heaven/Hallowed be thy name...”

I have said prayers with my sons many times. Years ago, I’d taught them the Lord’s Prayer. Isn’t that what so many mothers have done — so there’s nothing special about me, I surmised.

But, even as I uttered the words, there was a lump in my throat because I wanted to be special. I wanted to be the special mother who gets to stick around and raise her children. Over the years, I’ve seen mothers die unexpected deaths and leave young children behind. In 1994, I lost my Aunt Linda who, when she died at age 27, left behind three young children.

I know the pain. I didn’t want to be that mother.

Recent test results had indicated that I might have cancer. My husband is a cancer survivor.

For his sake, for my sake, for the sake of our sons, I didn’t want to face that battle. He and I often watch a show called “The Big C.” When we started watching it, my husband had not yet been diagnosed. He tells me it’s different watching it once you know you’ve got cancer.

I didn’t want to find out.

But, the mind plays tricks. I’m envisioning nausea, wigs, thinking about the long drive to the UNC Cancer Center. Thinking of needles and medication.

I didn’t want to let my mind wander.
 
I had to find a way to carry on with my normal routine as I awaited biopsy results. A couple of doctor’s visits had not been positive and hadn’t left me much hope.

But, I summoned my faith. All I needed was the faith of a mustard seed. All I needed was to believe that I didn’t have cancer.
The day my Family and I found out the test was negative, we celebrated.

A cancer scare puts everything in perspective.

Spending time with my Family is top priority ... not writing the next story or worrying about what upgrades or repairs need to be done to the house. A home is sort of like a bank and we’re always making deposits — new paint here, new furniture there. It’s always something. The cost of living rises and repairs are expensive, so it can be stressful.

But, finding out that I don’t have cancer, makes the to-do list at home seem minor. Being able to pray with my sons and know that we won’t have to pray that I beat cancer or that mom feels better is powerful.

I love and miss all the people my Family has lost to cancer — from Aunt Mandy and my cousin, Cindy in the past year to my great-aunt Flossie who died 25 years ago. I know so many people have fought the battle and lost.

Do I take for granted saying prayers with my sons? No.

Do I cherish conversations with my husband? Yes.

Will I pay better attention to my health? Definitely.

I will always be grateful to the Family and friends who helped me brave this crisis.

And I’ll always believe in the power of prayer and the importance of a little faith.