The tears of a son….

The spirit of a Mom and the tears of a son…Two strong emotions on display today at the cancer center.

It was a random connection made in the lobby.  The three of us walking to the same spot, kind of like a perfect storm,  Three different systems of energy stopping just short of a collision.  Mom, with her cane in hand and feeling in need of a cold drink, leaned back on a pillar meant to hold up the building. But this afternoon it had a dual purpose: it was Mom’s support too.  Her son walked over to the little eatery, happy to grant his Mom’s wish, but the place was closed.  He had no other choices, so I stepped up to offer some help and came back with a cup of ice water.

Her name was Cheryl and as her son went off to fetch the car, she began to share her story.  After all, we had become instant buddies over a cup of ice water.

She told me her son had been crying since tests disclosed her leukemia.  “He’s 37 years old and he’s back to crying like a little boy,” she said.  “He’s taking such good care of me, that sometimes it drives me crazy.”  And she laughed.

She went on and on about how much she loved her son and how important it is that she get well because she couldn’t possibly die now; she wasn’t ready and he was the best care giver

All I could do was nod my head yes and listen to a Mom heap praise on her son.

“This cancer brings out the love doesn’t it?” she said.

I smiled and nodded yes.

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