15 years ago today.

March 24, 2003 started out like a normal Monday. We were stationed in San Angelo Texas and I remember the weather was gorgeous that spring. Lots of rain made for a spectacular display of our state flower, the bluebonnet. That morning was bright and gorgeous.

Josh and Benji, then 9 and 7 were excited that I finally was letting them walk to school with their friends for the first time. Little did they know that I was excited to not have to get their three year old sister, Grace out of bed quite so early.

I had just laid back down for a little snooze when the phone rang. It was a nurse from pediatrics. Benji had an MRI to see what was causing his siezures the Friday before and she was calling to let me know the results were in. She told me to NOT bring Benji, but to bring my husband. As she said that, my heart started thudding in my chest and I felt sick inside. It couldn’t be good news at this point. I remember calling my husband at work and begging his coworkers to have him call back. It was an emergency. Ten minutes later, Rick came home to find me on the stairs, sobbing, while Grace sat with me, confused. We spent the next little while getting Grace to a friend’s house and driving to the clinic. After we got to the clinic, the nurse, without meeting our eyes, directed us to Dr Sawyer’s office.

The next ten minutes spent waiting for him were pure torture. When he finally came in with Ben’s records, he didn’t seem to know what to say. I remember asking him something, to which he answered, "We’ll talk." At that point, I asked why he couldn’t just tell us what was going on. Then he said the words that would change our lives forever. "Benji has a brain tumor." I remember looking over at Rick and he had the calmest look on his face. Almost as if Dr. Sawyer just told him it was going to rain. His expression just stayed the same. Dr Sawyer, then started saying words like cancer, surgery, astrocytoma, Cooks medical center. Words that made no sense and didn’t fit into OUR family. All I could think was "My God, this is how we’re going to lose him." We’re going to LOSE him. I had never heard of anyone surviving a brain tumor. I felt so sad that he would not get to do all those normal things. I worried about how Josh would take possibly losing his best friend. I wondered if Grace would remember the brother who called her goose and loved her so much. This is what it’s like to be told your child has cancer.

I called Glenmore Elementary and a secretary answered the phone. I blurted out the news and she put the school counselor on the phone immediately. We then went to the school and talked with her about the situation and how we would tell Benji his life as he knew it was over. Again, it struck me how utterly gorgeous the weather was that day. I didn’t want to tell him. I wanted him to have that innocence.It was like if I didn’t tell him, then it wasn’t real.

The rest of that day was a flurry of phone calls and appointments to get Benji ready for surgery. Opthamology, Neurology, neurosurgery, oncology. The list of appointments grew. We made arrangements for my mother in law to come care for Josh and Grace while we dealt with Benji. That evening we took the kids to the park. I sat and stared and prayed. I prayed almost constantly during that time. Nothing eloquent, just please God, let me keep him. . That day was a nightmare I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Everytime I woke up that night, it was just "Please God, Please God. over and over.

Benji’s school handled everything so graciously. His teacher and the school counselor told his first grade class and they all hugged a teddy bear to send with Benji.

One of Benji’s teachers said that the counselor called a meeting with every teacher that had worked with the boys. this teacher said that everyone was devastated. I was devastated to hear this because I just wanted my child to be one of the gang, not the child with the brain tumor.

The school raised three hundred dollars in two hours. This enabled us to pay for lodging while waiting to get into the Ronald McDonald house. Benji was actually able to go to school during this time between appointments.

One day was April Fools day. What I wouldn’t have given to be able to say April Fools. This is all a joke. We wore out a path between Angelo and Dallas. The Bluebonnets were spectactular that year, but I barely noticed.

His surgery was April Fourth and praise God, he’s been tumor free ever since. We live in San Antonio now. Benji is 22. Today he and I are spending the day together. The bluebonnets are out and they remind me of that sad time all those years ago when I thought I would lose my child.

Well, now this child is all grown up, is living his best life, working full time and has moved out on his own. I'm so thankful for Benji and the amazing young man he's become. I love you, Benji! #endchildhoodcancer