What Has Been On My Mind Lately

So there I was, on the playground of Ririe Elementary School, and I saw her. She walked with an air of confidence that I immediately noticed. She had a smile on her face. She was the new girl. She had red hair and green eyes and seemed to have all the boys eating out of the palm of her hand. And I was both scared of her and in awe of  her. So this was Chelsi huh? I guess I could remember her name easy enough--red hair and green eyes and named Chelsi. One of my favorite people in the world had that same combination and went by the same name, only spelled differently. I had no idea that that girl would change my life forever.

The next school year, we were in the same class, and I went from being uncertain of her to wishing we could be best friends. She was so genuinely, no-strings attached nice. It was so refreshing! Over the years we became friends. She always inspired me to be better. Together, we put the cigarette on trial as prosecuting lawyers, treated our freshman seminary class to the Twelve Days of Christmas, and struggled with life in a small town. Looking back, I wish that we had been better friends and hung out more. That we had been closer. That she hadn't transferred to a different school after our Freshman year. That I'd have transferred with her.  She's one of the few from my childhood that I actually made an effort to stay in contact with, because she was always good, always kind, always amazing. 

The first time I saw her husband, Trevor, was on their wedding announcement. I missed their wedding because I was serving my mission. After I got home, I got to know him a little bit via their blog. He was adventurous, he was a loving father, and I knew he had to be amazing because he had the good sense to marry her. He seemed smart and brave, yet tender and kind. I learned that he was a cancer survivor and that, at one point, he'd even had brain surgery.

I finally met Trevor about a year ago. It was shortly after his doctors had found that cancer had returned to his brain. Yet, surely they would be able to get rid of it again--they had before, right? I began praying for him, a man I barely knew, and for his wonderful wife, whom I had looked up to for so many years, and for their two sweet children who are the same ages as my own.

Meanwhile, Chelsi and I would take our kids on outings. I'd come to her house to help her take on the huge task of moving in and decorating, We'd get together for lunch. We'd read each other's blogs. And she would update me on Trevor's progress with Chemo. Many times, after leaving her company, I would cry thinking about what she was going through. It hit so close to home; it could easily be us.

In the last month and a half, things took a sharp turn for the worse. Chemo stopped working, and so radiation was the next option. I had offered to take family pictures back in November, but I knew it was time to really make it happen. We went to their house for Family Home Evening. She provided dinner, and I brought my studio. I took pictures of the kiddos while we waited for Trevor to get home from work. Brian came after he got off work, and he finally got to meet Trevor. Brian left with the kids, and I spent the next hour taking pictures, praying the whole time that I could be inspired and get it right, that I could somehow capture the essence of this little family.

 When Trevor and the kids had had enough, I called it. Chelsi got the kids in bed while I packed up the studio. And then we talked for another hour or two. As she talked, I sat in awe of her strength, her determination, and especially her smile. Despite her worries, she still stayed positive. She admitted to having moments where she completely breaks down. She wondered how she was going to tell her almost five-year-old about the cancer. (I remembered that I was about 4 or 5 when my best friend/brother was diagnosed with cancer, and how I knew something very serious was going on, but I didn't really understand. I felt a small affinity to that little girl, but I knew so much more about cancer now.) She worried about the nanny that is going to come and take care of her kids while she heads back to the workforce. She worried about staying strong for her little family. She thanked me for coming, and I left wishing I could do more, give more, be more.

And I cried all the way home.

Over the next week, while I worked on editing the pictures, Chelsi's world started falling apart even more. Trevor was getting worse. This last week, I finally finished editing pictures, and my last big push happened to be the day she posted this:

Trevor is fighting an amazing fight.

But despite our best efforts, it is very likely his night is drawing closer. (Drs tell me that less than ten months is likely, even if continued radiation results in some tumor stabilization, while we can "probably count weeks in double digits, we should not count on getting to double digit months. There is also the possibility that his awareness and presence can further deteriorate after the next two weeks).

As he continues to rage against the dying of this world's light I want the last of his earthly time to be full of love...

Please don't mistake, we are not giving up. We will always hope for a miracle. But we are bearing this burden as well as we can while submitting to a will greater than ours.

As I worked on editing the pictures of the sweet faces of those kiddos, I was sobbing. I sobbed as I worked on pictures of Trevor. My heart just about couldn't take it, and I almost called Lea to ask her to finish them, because it hurt so much. It hurt that this was happening to my amazing friend, and that I was so powerless to help.  That we didn't have much time to get to know Trevor. That we might even be in the way if we did try to get to know him. That this might be the last family picture I get to take of all of them together. But I remembered Chelsi, and I knew if her shoulders could handle everything that life keeps throwing at her, surely I could help lighten that load, pull it together, and finish editing her pictures.

And every night, and every morning, and many times throughout every day, I think of Trevor. I think of their little kiddos. I think of that girl who I have known since 3rd grade and who I have looked up to for so long. And I pray for a miracle. I pray that the Lord can be with them, and hold them in the palm of His hand. That He will help them have the strength to endure all this. That His angels will surround them and lift them up.

I thank the Lord every night that my little family is healthy. I thank Him for the bounteous blessings in my life. I thank Him that He has let me know this little family. I ask Him to help me love my children more, to not take anything for granted. I ask Him to open my eyes to see needs of those around me, to live my life so it means something. I thank Him for my Savior, who somehow makes all of this right. And even though it hurts, and I wish things for my friend were different, I'm grateful for the reminder about how fragile life is, for the reminder that this life is only a small part of His grand eternal plan, that we will all live again, see each other again. That it really isn't too late to get to know Trevor.

So, my dear blog-world friends, I ask you to join your prayers with mine. Please pray for Chelsi, for Trevor, for their kiddos, and for Trevor's doctors. And if you want to help, here's a way that you can: http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/join-the-linderman-s-fight-/303310