It’s no secret I’m partial to the month of March (well, all except maybe this current version we’re experiencing). March is my birth month after all, and doesn’t everyone have at least some small affinity toward their birth month? For the sake of my own ridiculousness about March, I have to believe this is true. Yet as much as this month contains the highs of celebration for me and my family, in it too are markers of great sorrow, fear, rejoicing, and hope in our journey.
The celebratory events have always been for me the fun, joyous parts of March. Growing up, two of my closest childhood friends (whom I’m still friends with today) also shared March birthdays, one being exactly two weeks before mine, the other two days before. No matter what kind of individual party each of us might have had, at some point in the month our moms made sure that William, Stephen, and I had our own special day together too. One indelible memory is when we had our birthday lunch at Chili’s and then were taken to see a Disney double feature showing at the movies. My delight of getting to see TWO films in one day was enough to set the stage for many self-scheduled “double feature” movie days to come in my future. And of course, my actual birthday on the 25th has always been a much anticipated, festive event. Let’s face it, as the baby of the family born eleven years behind my sister, I’ve essentially been ruined since day one.
The party in March grew bigger still when during my senior year of college my sister became pregnant with her second child, a girl, whose due date was exactly my birthday. God, all-knowing as He is, however decided it best that we each have our own day. So, on March 18th, 2005, my niece Caitlan was born, and I had the privilege of being present as she made her entrance into this world. I’ve hardly witnessed anything more beautiful. She was crying and so were her mom, dad, and I, and we were smitten with her from the start. I often remind my niece that she is the only person on earth whom I’ve known literally from the very moment she was born (my college volleyball team was on an away trip when my nephew was born, or else I could say the same for him). Yes, we have much cause for celebration in the month of March.
But this month is also marked by the event of greatest sadness for our family. On March 19, 1997, my mother passed away from the effects of an undetected brain tumor, having only been diagnosed in the week prior. Talk about life changing on a dime. In addition to this grief, ten days later my maternal grandmother, heartbroken over the loss of her child, succumb to a battle with melanoma she had been fighting, and passed away as well. As I’ve already spoken about witnessing my niece come into this world, I feel equally as honored to have been present at fourteen-years-old, when my grandmother took her leave. As a Christian woman who requested hymns to be sung at her bedside, Mimi closed her eyes and peacefully made the transfer to her eternal home in Heaven. I remember saying to my dad, “It feels like we should call mom to let her know…” But this of course, was not possible.
Looking back on this time, I know it was only by God’s grace and loads of love and support from family, friends, and really our entire community, were we able to go on in the life that was still in front of us to live. It’s true what people say, how there’s hardly a day that passes where loved ones lost are not thought of in some way. Reminders particularly of my mom occur to me in big and small ways all the time, even after twenty-three years of not having her here. Some people in our lives are just meant to have that kind of mark, and in our case, I feel blessed that the one she made on our family, on me, and every person she met, was one worth remembering, worth grieving. She was an incredible, unforgettable person.
And while the time of my mother’s and grandmother’s death was the saddest moment to date in our family, perhaps the scariest was nine years ago when at the age of eight, my nephew, Nolan, was diagnosed in late March also with a brain tumor. While his tumor was a different kind than his grandmother’s, it was no less serious. Really, it was because of the symptoms we had experienced with my mother, that my sister was able to notice certain behaviors about Nolan that gave her concern enough to have him examined.
The day she took him to the hospital, I was leading a spring break retreat for teenage girls of the church where I served on staff in South Carolina. Earlier that day while strolling along the boardwalk at the beach with the girls, I had gone into a store that sold hats of all kinds. One hat caught my attention I knew my nephew would love. It was a ball cap, the cap portion being white with red stitching resembling a baseball, and the bill was covered with green Astroturf to look like a field. Being a little pricey, I had almost decided not to buy the hat, but as I went to put it back, the Lord whispered to my heart, “Buy this for Nolan…” And so, I did.
Later that evening, my sister called and through a quivering voice told me of the situation, that Nolan had a large brain tumor towards the back of his head, dangerously entangled with his brain stem. For the first and only time in my life, my legs literally gave way as I dropped to the floor in shock. That night those young girls, the other leaders, and I came together on our knees before God, begging His mercy on Nolan. Thankfully I was able to get a medical emergency flight out the next morning, and arrived in Tampa, FL. as he was being taken back for a nine-hour surgery to remove the tumor. Those hours were agony. We cried, we prayed, we waited.
Finally, we were told that the tumor had been successfully extracted, and while there was still the reality of his having had cancer in his body, Nolan was okay and predicted to make a full recovery. And guess what was waiting for him when he came out of surgery and that he wore through the rest of his time in the hospital? The baseball cap bought at the beach. In fact, it still hangs on the wall of his bedroom today.
God certainly cares about the details and instructs us in all our ways if we’ll just tune into Him to realize it. For me, having been prompted to buy that hat before receiving the news about my nephew, gave me comfort in knowing God saw, He knew what was coming, and that Nolan, as ever, was in His care. Today, my big, strong, crazy handsome nephew is seventeen and preparing to soon play baseball at the collegiate level. He still has annual scans for cancer, and always will, but every March we still have him here, we rejoice, knowing the reality could be very different.
When I consider my nephew’s life in light of what took place with my mom, I think about the Apostle Paul’s words in Philippians 2:27 concerning his dear friend Epaphroditus, how he was “sick to the point of death, but God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, so that I would not have sorrow upon sorrow.” I’m so thankful Nolan lived, and as such we too were spared additional sorrow. With all I’ve written about here, I think also of what we know from the testimony of the Old Testament figure, Job, given in Job 1:21-22, “‘…The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.’ Through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.”
The highs and lows of these life events which mark my month of March are in a way representative of life on the whole. We all experience great times of celebration along with seasons of uncertainty, and unspeakable pain. Happiness is easy to come by on the good days. But I’ve discovered it’s in going through the valleys, through the hard, that I learn most intimately of the steadfast presence and love of Christ, and of real, lasting joy on the other side.
In what I can understand, and in all that remains a mystery, because of God’s goodness, I, like Job, can do nothing but continue to lift His name in praise. I pray in all we are currently facing as a global community, and in the circumstances of your personal journey, you will join me in doing the same. Relish in the good days, friends. And when the dark clouds appear, as they will, remember the Light and keep walking in faith until the new day dawns.
Much love,
Courtney