Karel Dujardin painted “Boy Blowing Soap Bubbles” in 1663.  The painting is an allegory on the brevity of life.  The soap bubbles represent the transitory nature of life and all that we cherish; beautiful for the moment but gone all too soon.

I have spent this past week thinking about my younger daughter.  A year ago, she took a sleeping pill overdose.  I spent the next 3 days by her bedside in the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit, wondering how on earth we had gotten to this point.  A year later, I still have no answers; was it a calculated risk to get the ex-boyfriend back?  Was it really a desire to leave this earth?  I don’t think even she knows.

A year ago, in the days prior to my daughter’s hospitalization, I had spent the week thinking about and missing my mom who had passed away the year before (now 2 years ago).  She had her birthday while in hospice so I remember her birthday as well at this time of year.

Just this week, a business colleague was diagnosed with a fast-growing form of cancer found blocking her kidney function.  She had beaten breast cancer a decade ago but this diagnosis appears to be even more serious.

On a lighter note, across the country, my twin niece and nephew will have birthdays in two days, on Halloween; they are high school students now and about to join the ranks of those of legal driving age.  Fun for them but a bit worrisome for the parents.

All of these past reflections as well as the uncertainties of the future with my colleague are making me think about the brevity of life and how little we know what is just around the corner.  I am going to have an endoscopy done just before Thanksgiving to check for a reason why I feel pressure around my esophagus.  It’s probably something minor like reflux and if so, I can live with the odd feeling of pressure.  The diagnosis of the business colleague made me realize though that we never really know.

There is a family reunion picture on the wall of my Family Room, taken 9 years ago this Thanksgiving.  It’s the typical reunion picture of extended family grouped together for one last picture before splitting up to travel back to various states.  I love the picture as it makes me remember the wonderful family weekend that we had…talking, laughing, and watching all the cousins build a snowman.  There is always an added feeling though when I look at myself in that picture.  In that moment when the picture was taken, I “didn’t know”.  I wish that I could spare that person in the photo the events of what was to come but of course I can’t.

The picture was taken on a Sunday.  That following Friday, I had a routine colonoscopy which revealed a pre-cancerous lump.  Within two weeks I had surgery…which went wrong, resulting in a second surgery for an ileostomy and one paralyzed vocal cord for several months…then a third surgery 4 months later to put everything back together. I spent 16 days including Christmas and New Year’s in the hospital.  In the picture, I looked so happy, so relaxed.  I didn’t know.

In the same picture, my oldest daughter had just started a Teen Challenge program in another city to help her with her issues.  Neither my daughter nor we (her parents) knew that it would lead to a mental health residential program out of state and that she would be gone from our home for 17 months.

Lastly, in that picture is my beloved mom.  She rode with my family to the reunion destination and I so enjoyed having her ride with us.  She didn’t know that even then her increasing fatigue would be due to a rare form of blood cancer though it would not be diagnosed until the following year.

I am glad that I am unable to see “around the corner” of my life as I would agonize with worry over situations that I could not possibly control.  In that family picture, I had just spent several days with people that I loved.  Jesus held the knowledge of the tough stuff ahead so that I could enjoy that weekend.  Thank you!