I remember as a little kid, going to Sunday school, I used to hear the stories about angels. They were majestic creatures who floated down from heaven on high. Sometimes they were angry, part of God's avengers, most times they were benevolent and brought messages of great joy. ALWAYS they were noticed.
When you receive the diagnosis of Breast Cancer, you are on the watch, (at least I was) for your angel. Miracles abound and I felt like I had better be ready to notice my angel when they appeared. The first few weeks of discovering breast cancer, moved at lightening speed. The first word was delivered via telephone "I'm sorry to say you have Breast Cancer." Then in person, "you need a lumpectomy." Then again by telephone "You need to come back in" and in person" You have no choice you must have a mastectomy." Then by committee "We recommend a treatment of Adriamycin, Cytoxin". So far I wasn't seeing very many angels; perhaps some well meaning and incredibly gifted and dedicated professionals, but I wouldn't go as far as to say they were angels.
Then as I progressed with my chemotherapy. There were dozens of people who signed up to bring my family food. I received cards and letters and phone calls and visits, flowers and gifts and heartfelt wishes. I thought these people to be unbelievably kind and generous, but... probably not angels.
My sisters and brother came to cheer me up on my birthday and brought with them that sense of what is important, along with the confirmation that they loved me. Just as my father had come to my surgery to pray.
The school, where I was PTA President, dedicated a tree in my name (a sure sign they worry you are going to die, by the way) and each child drew a picture of themselves that Tia assembled in a grand collage that they presented to me. I looked at their bright faces full of smiles and support and felt incredibly lucky to have been able to work and play with them. But were they angels???? I didn't think so.
So I breezed through the treatment without a sign of an angel appearing to alter the course of my destiny. As the years went by, I sent my thoughts of angels to the back of my mind.
Then, my husband's Mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I went to church with them on the last time she ever went to church. We stayed after for "Sunday school" class and the topic was angels. I looked at her eyes as person after person recounted times they felt they had encountered an angel. Her eyes were full of need, the need to believe. And I thought about times I had seen angels and the times I have seen them at work in my life.
When I was 24, my mother was in the hospital and it was her last hours. We were at home waiting. My young brother and sister were crying as we sat in a darkened room. Somehow, from somewhere a voice came in the calmest of sounds "it will be okay." I was speaking the words, but I felt someone else was forming them. They both looked at me and the immediately relaxed. "It will be okay, it will be okay."
Sometimes we are in places in our lives where we don't have a clue what to do, or how to act. That, I believe is when angels can appear, if you let them. Angels, it is said, are "messengers of God". It is my belief that angels do exist in more ways than we have ever thought. Those doctors who set my feet on the path that led to my wellness, were the right people at the right time, saying things in a way I could hear at a time when I might only hear my own fear. Those parents and friends who embraced my family and lifted me up while I was weakened and weary, may not have known what to do, or what to say, but they strengthen me by caring for what I loved the most , my family. My sisters and brother and father who came to show their love, brought me the message that we are connected and that connection makes us one. And in that there is tremendous strength. The children, the tree and the love of those people at Tam Valley School showed me how life is precious and how much I wanted to be watch my own children grow.
All of these messages were as powerful as an army, as loud as a symphony and as real as love. These were my angels. Just as that voice had come to me in a dark and frightening place, they were the voices that led me on. When I looked at Glenn's mother that day and she asked me if I believed in angels, I said without hesitation "Oh yes I do. I have seen them." And she smiled.
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