Cyndi & Scott

Cyndi has been one of my best friends for the last 24 years. We met at Cherry Avenue Jr. High School. Through the years, our friendship has solidified into something more like a sisterhood. Although we don't see each other or talk to each other as often as either of us would like, I feel certain that we both would go to the ends of the earth for the other. I love her beyond words.

Earlier this year, I got the phone call that I didn't want from her. She informed me that her husband's cancer was back. And for the last several months, Scott has been fighting through. He has been victorious over the cancer for a second time. However, the damages the cancer left in the wake are serious to say the least. It has been debilitating physically and emotionally. At this point, it seems as if only God can fully restore him.

I decided a few weeks ago to fly out to Oakland where he was hospitalized so that I could sit with them both for day. They didn't know that I was coming; I just went with the conviction that I should have been there to love on them weeks prior.

The hug that I received from Cyndi when she opened the door was one that I will remember all the days of my life. There are a handful of hugs that have really impacted me. When my Grandfather died, my dad hugged me and cried. It was the first time I had seen him cry. A hug hello I received at the Nashville airport said more than any words could have. And Cyndi's hug as she fell onto my shoulder and wept said all that needed to be said.

We spent much of the time just chatting, the three of us. At times, we would read scripture. We prayed together. We laughed and cried. We talked about Scott's prognosis. And for a short period, Cyndi and I were able to escape the hospital walls for a bite to eat, where we laughed and cried some more. It was over that meal that she told me that she believed it would take a miracle for Scott to walk out of the hospital. Good thing that God is still in the miracle making business. They both went home this last Wednesday. And even though Scott's kidney's are extremely damaged and the doctor's have done everything that they can...at least they are home together.

While I sat in that hospital room with them both, I felt that it was such an honor to be there. It was raw, absolute, real. There was full transparency with them both. They didn't hide emtotions, fears, tears, doubts...anything. I watched Cyndi care for her husband...I saw her dedication to him...her allegience. I witnessed his complete dependency on her. It really is impossible to put into words what I witnessed. As Scott fought for his life and clung on to a strand of hope, it was Cyndi there encouraging him. They mourned and wept over what seems to be unattainable dreams; a life in Japan, a return to the life they had just 5 years ago. They celebrated a new found level of emotional intimacy.

Why do we, as a people, wait for such extreme life events to bare our souls?

Needless to say, they have been on my mind quite a bit lately. And as I was working the other day on my laptop, I had my iTunes playing when "Now Comes The Night" by Rob Thomas came through my speakers. The simplicity of the piano caused me to pause and take in the lyrics. Then I realized that this song is what I witnessed with Cyndi and Scott. She has sung this song to him every day through her actions and absolute dedication to him. He has been her everything for every waking second through this battle. She has stood in the gap for him. She has remembered him in everything.

Before I headed to the airport to return home, I stopped by the hospital to check in one last time. After a near medication blunder, we all settling down and decided to pray. Afterward, I rose up and went to give Scott a hug. It was time for me to leave. As we hugged, I felt him begin to cry and I realized that he was saying goodbye. Not, "I'll see you later", but "goodbye". I guess at that moment, it hit me that this may indeed be goodbye, at least for our life here on earth. I whispered in his ear words of encouragement and told him to fight through and never give up hope. The people praying for his recovery would continue to pray and he would just need to fight through one day at a time. As we broke our embrace, I turned to Cyndi to hug her and say my farewells. I couldn't help but fight back the tears knowing full well that I was returning home to a pretty normal life by most people's standards while she remained on the front lines here at her husband's side.

As I entered the halls, the tears began rolling down my face. I knew that I was just in the presence of absolute love...unadulterated, undiluted and completely transparent. That's what I love about my friendship with Cyndi. It's authentic and real. So, I celebrate Cyndi today and what she has done for her husband through these last 4 weeks. I love her dearly and am honored to call her friend, sister, and hero.

Now Comes The Night

When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No, you will not be a forgotten and you will not be alone
No, you will not be alone

And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No, you will not be alone then and you will not be afraid
No, you will not be afraid

And when the fog has finally lifted
From our cold and tired brow
No, I will not leave you crying
No, I will not let you down
No, I will not let you down
I will not let you down

Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
Until the end of our days

When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
And you will not be alone
No you will not be alone