Letters to Andrew: The Clock

Dear Andrew,
   
     Time does not stand still.  In the Land of Leukemia we often feel like time stands still and at the same time it feels like it flies by with a year worth of time passing by with every 24 hours. We have learned though that although time mostly feels like it is standing still the reality is that the sun rises and sets everyday and the world marches on regardless of whatever is happening in your life. I will never forget the moment that this reality hit home for me. We were coming back from one of your early MRI tests. I believe it was within the first 24 hours of being diagnosed. I didn't think too much about it at the time but I did make note in my mind that it was after normal working hours. I looked up as we were going down the now familiar hallway and saw the clock. It was 10:30 at night. I had no idea it was so late. Time was marching on! I began taking pictures of the digital clocks all over the hospital to mark transitional times and moments as we marched along through our new Leukemia Life. The reminder that Time was Not Standing Still.

      This clock is the picture is the first picture I posted on social media. It is the clock that was right beside room 369C which was your home for June and most of July 2014. The experience of time changed the moment that Dr. Smith gave us the official diagnosis of your Leukemia down in the ER. I remember it feeling just like a movie scene when a bomb explodes. Everything seemed to be in a haze and everyone was moving and talking in slow motion. My ears were ringing. All the noise of the ER seemed to go silent yet I was still unable to clearly hear her speak. I could see her lips move but I struggled to hear what she was saying. I caught myself inching closer and closer to her as I strained to hear. I caught myself as I felt like I was almost going to be close enough that our faces would touch. The rest of the day was just like that moment. The only part that I remember clearly is the 30 minutes or so we spent together after I told you the diagnosis. The Land of Leukemia  took on a life and a time of it's own.
    Four years have gone by and we are once again in the time warp of Leukemia as we are Day 5 of 100 into your bone marrow transplant. I pray that we come to know the power, comfort, and focus that comes only from the author and sustainer of time. The Lord God almighty who is the maker of heaven and earth. May your trust in his perfect design for your life grow as your days of suffering bring dark hours of fear, frustration, and despair. I pray you learn by great experience the power and comfort of Christ our savior's presence.

In the hours of pain and sorrow

When the world brings no relief

When the eye is dim and heavy, and the heart oppressed with grief.

While blessings flee, Savior, Lord we trust in Thee.

While blessings flee, Savior, Lord we trust in Thee.

                                                            -Helen Parmlee and Kevin Twit

In Christ,

Daddy

Letters to Andrew: You Have Cancer

The events of June 2, 2014

Dear Andrew,

     "Come here son. Sit up in my lap little man. Andrew, you have cancer. It is called leukemia" I will never forget that moment. You hugged me tight and just cried. You didn't really know what any of it meant but you knew cancer wasn't good and you knew by the way everything was happening throughout the day that something was right.  In that moment you were broken and afraid. All I wanted to do in that moment was to take all your fear away. Even I couldn't imagine just what would be in store for your future. However, I knew that you would be in a fight for your life and the only way to face it was for you to become the man you had to become. I praise God that his work of grace in your life had already begun and you were seemingly already prepared for this battle. Our first 30 minutes of so together after we received your diagnosis will forever be cherished in my memory and heart. There is a bond that men develop when they go through fire of trials together. That day and in those brief moments you became something other than a son to me. There is nothing more special to me than you being my son. However, we became brothers at arms together that day. We formed the bond of men locked together in the arena of battle giving to one another their lives. This is how it happened.
   
    I was in the old field house working at Coach Pickens' old desk when momma text me about your blood test needing to be looked at some more. I am from Memphis and grew up in the shadows of St. Jude hospital. I have heard the stories of leukemia my entire life. I was nervous immediately but I pressed on. When momma called and said we had to take you to Blair Batson for more blood work I knew immediately in my gut why they were wanting more test. I told her to refuse to leave without the Dr telling her if they were testing for leukemia. She called me back and my deepest fear was confirmed. I made my way to the new field house and walked up the tunnel to Coach Pickens' office. I called him in and tried to tell him what was going on.  I'll be frank with you, I couldn't speak through my tears and anguish. I was having such a hard time breathing that he was first afraid that I was having a heart attack. He was the first I told that you may have leukemia. I praise God that he gave me that moment with Pickens to prepare me to function for the rest of the day. I don't think I would have been willing to share it with anyone else at that point but him and I needed to work through it in order to be there for you. So, I left there for the hospital and had that long drive to decide how I would tell you. On this drive after a lot of prayer I was convinced that my instincts were the way to go. To treat you as the little man that you would need to become in order to face this fight. I made up my mind that I would be direct with you. I wouldn't allow people to sugar coat it nor to lie to you about what was wrong. And I would not allow anyone else to tell you but me. So, when the time came I sat you in my lap and told you.

    I share that with you to give you the back story for our first thirty minutes together. The nurse came to take you for X-rays. Today, momma goes with you to almost all of your tests. If you can remember those first days and weeks, then you'll recall that it was me that went with you. We were in this battle together. She put you in a wheelchair and bless her heart. She was so sweet and was trying to be so encouraging. And she was. But you and I were both silent. We looked each other directly in the eyes and just nodded. I kept my hand on your shoulder most of the way but we didn't talk. We had to wait for the X-Ray and whatever test they were running. You were so angry and afraid. You glanced ever so often into my eyes. We would share truth with one another in those moments too deep for words. Your knuckles were completely white from gripping the arms of the wheelchair so tightly. Your entire body was so tense and your breathing so short that I was starting to worry about you passing out from the stress. The nurse came to take you back and away from me for the first time in this process and my breathe was taken away. But then it happened, it was like Rocky taking that last punch before having enough! Your entire body relaxed. You let go of the wheelchair arms and began to breathe. She asked you if you were ready go with her? You simply looked up and said, ok. When you came back out we looked each other in the eyes again. We spoke for the first time. I asked you, "are you alright?" You nodded yes. I followed up with, "are you sure? are you good?" You said, "yes." The nurse returned to get us and I looked at you and said, "Let's Go!"

    Son, this is the moment I knew that God was doing a work in you that was beyond my understanding. In less than hour you had become a man of strength and courage that I couldn't have even dreamed of in that moment. You went from being my "lit'l man" to being a true Lit'l Man. You were eight years old and already more of a man than I had ever dreamed of for myself. You amaze me and continue to amaze me. I praise God for all that he has done in you and for you. I love you. Keep fighting! Don't give up! Fight!

In Christ,
Daddy

Letters to Andrew: I'm Sorry

Dear Andrew,

     Hey Little Man, daddy is so sorry you are having to go through all of this again. I am so sorry that your childhood has been consumed with battling Leukemia. I know you are scared and I also know that you are sick of it. In my mind I have been writing you letters for four years now.  You were so young when you were diagnosed with Leukemia that it was very hard for you understand so many of the things that were happening. It was hard for everyone. Well, the time has come for me to write those letters to you. I am going to write them as if we were still back there in the summer of 2014. I don't want us to lose the memory of the journey we have travelled together as a family.
    I want to start today though by telling you how proud I am of you.  I cannot even imagine how much worse this experience could have been for your momma and me if you're attitude had not been so full of grace, mercy, and courage. I watch you face this is world and your challenges and I am so thankful that you truly are almost everything I am not and was not as a child. You are so gentle and compassionate. You are so caring toward others and especially your family. Of course, you are not perfect for you carry the treasure of Christ in the jar of clay that is your sinful flesh. Yet, the fruit of Christ's Spirit is so graciously in abundance in you that it is overwhelming. We praise God for His grace because we know that this is not a work of your own effort. It is the work of God in you by His grace. Your mom and I are amazed at how courageously you face every challenge. When you have every reason to be afraid and angry you buck up and grind on. You have been that way from the beginning. The part that amazes us the most is that you were never told to be that way. You took this challenge up on your own. It is the work of God's grace.
    The challenge you are facing now with a Bone Marrow Transplant after T-Cell relapse is of course much harder than even what you've already been through. I know you have grasped this because you ain't no rookie and this isn't your first rodeo. We will be with you through every moment of the fight. However, there will be moments when it will be only you and the Lord. I pray that you already understand but I especially pray that you will come to understand through this trial that His presence is the most needed. His power is made perfect in our weakness. He doesn't call upon you to win or be a warrior but to be courageous because He is your warrior. We wish we could just handle it all for you. The truth is that it is better for you that we can't handle it for you. At the end of the day this is your battle and in God's wisdom and grace He has design your life to walk this path. Thus, we know that it is a path the God will walk through with you. Therefore, you remember that He has said that, "He will be with you. That He is your God. That He will strengthen you and help you. That He will uphold you by His righteous right hand." (Isaiah 41:10)  God isn't making lemonade out of a bad situation that has come upon you. No, God has ordered everyday for you as it is for your good and His Glory. So, trust in Him and His steadfast love for His promises are sure and power unmatched. He is the first and best of beings who made you and all things for his glory. So trust Him. Pray for Him to grant you a greater trust when your trust is weak and when your heart is weary. Now, you march on and glorify Him by loving Him and doing what He commands to the praise and glory of His name.
    I love you. Your Momma loves you. Your sisters love you. Your family loves you. Christ's church loves you. Leake Academy loves you. Your 3C nurses and Drs love you. And countless and nameless others love you. So, you fight! You Fight! You are never alone. We will be with you at every step that we can and Christ will be with you always.

In Christ,
Daddy