It’s been nearly two weeks since my last radiation treatment.  I didn’t realize it but there’s some formality and tradition when you finish.  First, they called Lisha in from the waiting room much to my surprise.  Then they presented me with a certificate of completion and we took a group photo with everyone who had been there with me over the course of the seven weeks with the exceptions of young “Easy Money” Andrew and Susannah, my “Swiss Army Knife” (she’s from Switzerland).  Lastly there’s a bell ringing ceremony where the “graduate” rings the bell three times.  You can be certain I left no doubt that I was done.  I had the wonderful privilege to pray with Alisha and the three ladies that worked my last treatment, got hugs from everyone including Eugene (two “bro” hugs equal one real one Eugene!)  As I predicted I cried.

Phase 3 includes an MRI every 3 months for the foreseeable future and a maintenance dose of the chemo pill for 5 days each month.  I think our challenge ahead will be to keep a one-day-at-a-time mentality.  Even though there are tough things about treatment, you at least feel like something is being done.  Now I can see that there is a possibility of just anxiously waiting for the next MRI, a slippery slope toward fear no doubt.

As I look back on “Phase 1 and 2” it’s natural to reflect on what I’ve learned as a husband, father, son, brother, friend, colleague and in my faith.

The first thing that jumps out at me is the amazing woman lying asleep in our room as I write.  It’s been over 20 years since she said “yes” on a warm night in Puerto Vallarta.  She had jokingly asked me earlier in the evening when I was going to ask her to marry her.  So, a little later I called her bluff.  I am truly humbled by her heart, her strength, her steadfastness and her faith.  What she is doing with an idiot like me, I’ll never know but will thank God daily for keeping her for me.  What a crazy blessing.

As a father I’ve really come to appreciate the simple moments with the girls.  I have a beat up ’87 Chevy Silverado pickup truck that the word “beater” really doesn’t do justice.  I bought it with cash when Hannah was 2 thinking if it lasted a couple of years it would be money well spent.  To Lisha’s dismay, it has lasted 11 years (she HATES that truck).  About 6 weeks ago one evening Chloe said, “Dad, can we go for a ride in the truck?”  That short drive has turned in to a two or three times a week trip that now includes Hannah.  We wander down roads we’ve never noticed, laugh and talk about our day.  Twenty years from now, those are the times I’m sure we’ll remember.  It takes so little effort to build bonds if we just keep our ears open and so little effort to tear them down if we don’t.

As a son and a brother I have watched my family run to my side when we were in distress.  We were never perfect but as a family we were healthy, to steal a line from our pastor.  There was love, generosity, support and faith.  Something that I will strive to leave as my legacy.

My friends have overwhelmed me such that it is hard to talk about them without getting choked up.  From college friends who flew up at a moments notice, stood at my side in the hospital, prayed for me in the OR waiting room, showered us with relentless generosity, lifted me up in prayer, kept me company in the radiation waiting room, and made me laugh.  I can scarce believe it.  It humbles me and leaves me without words.

My work colleagues flooded my inbox with words of encouragement from all over the globe.  I received an outpouring of love from the South Pacific to the Arctic Circle, SE Alaska and New York.  A train of meals showed up at our door every day for 2 weeks.  It started in someone’s kitchen, commuted to the office in Seattle, switched hands to one of two amazing couriers who brought it on a 35-40 minute ferry ride across Puget Sound, then another 18 miles to our front door.

As a Christian I’ve had to take off the training wheels of my faith that I’ve unknowingly been riding around with for years.  There’s really no getting around it, when tested you either find the traction to carry on or you stumble.  The three things that have helped me gain traction have been my bride’s genuine love for God which inspires me, the comforting words of God that have found their way into a journal by my bed, and the prayers of so many people.  I’ve said it before and will say it again, I can feel them in a tangible way.  There are times when I’m having a tough day and suddenly my outlook turns.  I know for certain that somewhere someone has lifted me up in prayer.

There has been such a collective momentum of love sent toward me and my family in so many ways that it has no doubt pooled up in other ways and other places around the lives of people connected in some small way to what has transpired with me.  In my heart I believe the world is a better place.