OH, THE WORDS SPOKEN

  I have been listening very carefully these days to the words spoken and try to garner as much knowledge as I can from them. These words can make me laugh or cry, drown in desperation or lift me up to heights of possibility. At times the words can have multiple levels and thus one has to pay close attention to the words of self and the words of others. 

"Having a 'good' day," What does that mean? A good day relative to what used to be one or a good day relative to the current status. Nausea or sleepiness? A lesser degree of pain? An ability to actually focus on an activity, a positive mood? Is this good day one that we can hope for, pray for to return day after day or is a good day designation which will fall by the wayside as treatment, brutal, but necessary, continues and even grows.

I know what I wish for, the same as any member of the family and friends. What we want is for Yitzy to once again worry needlessly as he prepares for a test which he will, as usual, ace. We wish for a good day when the mighty little man will be the "Beast' of the team, a home run threat always, accompanied by the crack of the bat and the cheers of his teammates. His sisters wish for Yitzy to annoy them with one of his magic card tricks and his brother wants to play basketball with him. His parents want only for a healing and as for us, Gerry and I, we simply wish for a good day, his and ours, the day when we can hold him once again, tease him, pet him, annoy him as grandparents often do and imagine a time of good day after good day and a clear road ahead to adulthood.

What does the doctor mean when he describes placement and size of the tumor. What does he mean when he says there is difficulty at the same time that he says he is hopeful? What are we to take home as the message about Yitzy? What do all these words actually signify?

What. What. What. Our heads spin, in a fog of confusion and concern. How do we interpret it all?

We try to refocus on other issues for a while, important if we are to remain positive, focused and a good support. Thus, I turned to the news of the day and wondered if they are all sick, as their words were, are, so telling.

"In war, you see the value of human life," he said. "How much, in war, human life has no value."

Is a “Fib your way to Congress” trend emerging..."

“Transparency. One word. That’s all it is,” ... “Transparency between what we’re trying to do…or in the process of doing and giving [residents] a platform to give their input on what’s happening.”

"It is typical fear mongering. It is typical xenophobic behavior,” 

 Two sides of many coins. Whom to believe? Whom to trust?

Words and gestures are important. They can raise the spirit or crush it. They can inspire or cause despair. Words must be weighed, chewed up, before spitting them out. Listen, hear, examine the situation and then speak. Words of value. Words of wisdom. Words which will lead to a good ending rather than bad. Words to encourage, not oppress. Words of love, not ugly hatred. Words of acceptance and welcome, not words of exclusion. Words of truth, for truth is the viable means to redeem ourselves and forge ahead where we so desperately need to go. Words which will mesh with the words and thoughts of others and the world's attention and energy can be lasered at the woes and ills of our manifestly ailing the world. To untangle problems, with viable solutions, heal the sick. Give all children a good life, with opportunity and hope.

That is what we want for Yitzy. And for all kids.

Cancer does not belong here. Never. Ever.

Those are words of clear truth.

So are these:

HEAL YITZY!

May he be granted refuah shelaymah bimheyrah beyameinu. 

May he be granted a timely and complete healing.

May Hashem hear all our voices raised in prayer.