He is Always Listening.....

The church bells chimed loud and clear, a welcoming ringtone, one that always makes me smile whenever  mom calls. This morning however, instead of the usual enthusiasm that accompanies her calls, my stomach felt butterflies.

“Hi hun, the V.A. has scheduled dad’s procedure for 12:30”, she said. This will mark the third time we had been there in the last six days.

Cancer. It is something that he has suffered with for many years  now.

For a long time it was under control, but in the past few years it had resurfaced. Like an aggressive weed in a beautiful garden, it has taken over his entire body, invading everything it comes in contact with.  No organ is  left untouched.

I can remember many years ago, when this all started. I went with dad to his oncologist appointment. While we sat in the waiting room  to be called in, an elderly gentleman walked past us with what appeared to be a colostomy bag. “That is one of my greatest fears”, dad told me. “I hope I never have to have one of those bags”.

The procedure he was scheduled for this day would meet his fears. His kidneys have become so ridden with cancer that they have stopped functioning properly. The right one has worn down, and his potassium levels continue to elevate, putting him in extreme danger.

I buttoned up my work at the office and made my way to the V.A. I got there minutes before he was wheeled away by a staff member. I kissed his forehead and made the sign of the cross where I had placed the kiss. Mom did the same and added a beautiful blessing, asking the Blessed Mother and all God’s holy angels to protect dad in what he was about to undergo. He squeezed her hand, gave her a brave smile, and was taken away from us, into the hands of doctor that we hand not yet met, his regular doctor was not there.

Mom and I both had an unusual amount of anxiety so I suggested that we find out if the V.A. had a chapel; we both needed a quiet place to pray. Mom, in her stressful state, said aloud, “This is a government building, I’m not sure if they still have chapels here”. “Oh mama, I laughed slightly, “of course they do”. Humor can be a sweet relief  at times like this.

 I went up to the information desk and asked where the chapel was located and sure enough, it was located on the second floor.

As we started to make our way there, a man who had overheard our conversation, walked up to us. “I know where it is”, he said. “It’s hard to find, I will take you there”. I thanked him, and I thanked God, knowing that He was listening too.

The chapel was lovely and music was playing in the background, which might have been great for a lot of people, but in my mind it sounded like show tunes, and to be honest, the music was getting to me. I pulled out my rosary beads and so did mom. Together we prayed the Glorious Mysteries, me praying a little louder in an effort to block out the music.

Suddenly, we heard a joyful Irish brogue saying, “Awe, if it’s not the holy women, praying for the souls of the world, lovely, yes lovely”. The cutest little Irish nun walked up to us, Sr. Mary Catherine was her name, and said, “Bless you ladies, bless you. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable praying before the Blessed Sacrament ?”. “The Blessed Sacrament!” we both said in surprise. “Yes”, she said, “The Catholic Chapel is right around the corner, let me take you there”. She lead us straight to Jesus. We thanked her and she was gone. As we sat before Our Lord, I said another "thank you", for again He showed me He was listening.

Dad’s procedure took longer than expected. It had some initial hiccups; the cancer prevented one tube that had been inserted from staying in place properly, which caused a backup somewhere in the kidney area. Dad was in a tremendous amount of pain. The next day another procedure was done to correct the problem. An extra day in the hospital was require, just in case.Then he was released to go home.

In the following days a hospice team was sent to the house. That must be a rough one for everybody, it sure was for us . Dad choked up a bit and so did we. But, an interesting thing happened. The man that came from Hospice happen to a Catholic priest from the Philippines, a missionary priest. He comforted dad, staying with all of us for a while, answering questions and sharing stories of faith.

As Father was getting ready to leave us, we all gathered around dad, holding hands and praying. The Holy Spirit was so strong and again I thanked God. I knew He was listening.

Everything now is day to day. Life seems so precious and living in the present moment is so important. The words of this song from Isaiah 49 keeps running through my mind: 

I will never forget you my people. I have carved you in the palm of my hand…

This song continues to remind me that He is always listening.