Has it been three days without Cancer? I’m in a drug-addled haze surrounded by the most beautiful flowers and smorgasbord of delicious foods. I have a very overqualified and devilishly handsome private duty nurse. The children have been whisked away to a basketball game to stay up way past their bedtime and the fallout tomorrow won’t be my problem. But because I enjoy remembering the names of these children we normally look after, I tried to wean down the pain medication. Too soon. I’m going to be loopy for a little while longer.

I want to write to all of you and tell you how delicious the salmon was, and that the lentil soup is gone, and that Dad ate ALL of Mary’s cookies, and the Chinese take-out passed Asian standards with flying colors, but I fear I’m not making a lot of sense right now.

But what I do have is Peace.

This warm, postoperative calm I owe to friends who have organized my meals, my support network, (and while I was in surgery, my PLAYROOM!) and to Paige who can make you feel like you don’t need to cut your own meat, or the gift of these grandparents who are the only people who will watch over and love these boys as much as I do. But Peace remains while April nurses her own husband back to health after his shoulder surgery, and Nicole plans her 12 year old’s birthday party, and Paige has returned to her own family that needs her, and the grandparents try to figure out if it’s too soon for visitors, or energy work, or cocktail hour. (Yes, yes, and no for those keeping score.) And this warm feeling isn’t the work of the Vicodin.

When Paige became super Churchy over a decade ago she explained that the proper order of one’s relationships is as follows: God, spouse, children, others. She sagely warned how easy it is to mix this up after having kids (especially ones like mine that are little clones of the man I married). But as long as the order is respected, Peace prevails. I look back to your shared prayers (500 of them!) and see how you kept me on course. Thank you for keeping me in your kind thoughts. You’ve been in mine… and featured in a bizarre and hilarious assortment of dreams only He can interpret.

Peace and Love…