Don't Make Easy Hard
The diagnosis of her
cancer hit the couple like a swift slap in the face and a right punch to the
belly. All she complained of was a pain in her lower back, just a dull pain. She
had done massage and even some acupuncture, but finally, sensing that it may be
a pulled muscle or something else minor, she decided to see her medical doctor.
After a series of tests, he diagnosed that she had cancer. Not just cancer in
her spine, but all over her upper body.
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| Suzie and Molly |
Fred and Molly Mooney
were dear friends of ours. Tom and Fred were flying buddies and, in
on
e memorable trip to
Wyoming, Molly and I each flew in the back seat of our husband's Cessna 01 L19
airplanes . . . better known as Birddogs.
We would wave at one
another as we took off and giggled at our daring to fly across the country,
harnessed in like real tough heroes would be. We were proud of ourselves and
prouder still of our precious pilots.
Many of our
Birddog friends have moved to Fredericksburg, Texas from other parts of the
country. There is a large
general aviation community
in this small and pristine town. In fact, the Gillespie County Airport boasts a
50-room hotel named the Hangar Hotel. The rooms are all appointed in '40s style décor from Restoration
Hardware. The style of the World War II Military bases is a draw for
tourists throughout the year, and an even bigger draw
is the food, the over 450 B&Bs, and the new National Pacific War Museum.
Fred and Molly Mooney
encouraged new residents because of their outgoing and welcoming nature. So when
the news of Molly's illness spread throughout the community, we all banded
together in support of the couple. We made meals, we provided diversions for
both of them, and prayed continuously for strength and wisdom and humor to
endure what they were facing. Molly's health rapidly declined and the reality
was finally accepted that she didn't have much time left. "Oh no . . . not
Molly!"
Fred stood tall, stalwart, loyal and totally dedicated to entering the arena of "health care provider." He blended his usual jovial nature with moments of total despair, covering his face while the tears just rained down. We watched these honest emotions and held tightly to our loved ones, realizing the "unexpected" can be upon any one of us in an instant.
Molly entered the world of IVs, tubes, steroids, weight gain-weight loss, loss of appetite, loss of hair, and loss of dignity and finally loss of hope. Fred walked right beside her, doing his best to stay positive for her as she did for him. He would send updates to her friends through emails describing treatments, and positive things that happened while in treatment centers. He signed off each message with . . . Fred Mooney . . . "Don't make easy hard."
A month or so after Molly's funeral, I saw Fred sitting in the back of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church listening to the Sunday Service. Afterward, we walked outside holding hands and I asked Fred about "Don't make easy hard." It always stuck with me, that wonderful phrase. It awakened me to the possibility that things were harder because we thought they would be. I knew Fred must have been inspired with those words from some deep source of wisdom and inspiration, perhaps a holy person.
Fred turned to me with
a huge smile on his face and said, "Do you really want to know where that came
from?"
"Yes, please," I
pleaded. "It is so inspiring."
"Okay. You asked for
it!
"I was going through
security at the airport. I was just about to put my belongings in the tray on
the conveyor belt when this petite, older oriental woman, wearing a uniform,
hollered out in broken English...
"Tek off your chus . .
. Tek off your belt . . . put de chang in de dish . . . DON'T MEK EZY
HARD!"
Well, there it is
again! Proof of what an inspiration words from others can be to ourselves . . .
and those words can come at the most unexpected times and in the most unexpected
places!
"Don't make easy hard"
does not mean that the road of pain and suffering isn't difficult. It is! It is
terrible at times. Yet, too often we give in to letting our fear completely
blind us to the beauty that still can be found in the everyday.
Molly's and my friend
Emily, who is battling cancer at this writing, chided me when I tearfully
blurted out to her . . . "It must be so bleak for you right now . . . with the
chemo and the nausea." Emily's quick response snapped me out of that
mood.
"Stop that right now,"
she said. "Every day is beautiful . . . I can look at my husband's handsome face
and the flowers and birds about the yard. I can feel love from the friends who
come to visit and my faith is strong and holds me up."
Recently, a group of
Molly's women friends met at a luncheon to "remember" her and to share our
"Molly memories." What we discovered was that she made each of us individually
feel that we were so special to her. We, in turn, were inspired by her "spirit"
to do the same for our family, our friends, and especially to those who are the
hardest to love. See, "Don't make easy hard."
Mother's Day is a great
place to start spreading that love. I hope your gatherings are filled with joy
and gratitude and, yes, even some forgiveness. No relationship is perfect
because the participants aren't either. As our Episcopal priest Jeff Hammond
says in closing each Sunday.
"Now go out to love and serve and be kind to one
another, for we are all involved in a great
struggle!"
Blessings with love and
laughter,
Suzie
Blessings sweet friends for a terrific Thursday.
gkmorrison12@gmail.com
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