PLEASE FORGIVE ME

Milton, here for Kristy:

GBM brain tumors are horrible. They do terrible things to the mind. They rob. They change. They numb. They destroy. They attempt to kill love.

But they can't. God has the final word on what happens.

I have been transparent, but not totally. No one really is totally transparent. There is always something there that is too personal, too sacred, maybe too shameful to share.

You have watched closely and carefully of unusual moments that are rarely shared so openly. Not because of my will, but because of Kristy's desire. We both are public but yet private people. Is that a contradiction? Not really for you are public and private too.

Kristy wanted this story told. She made me promise and so I write. It has grown in me and you have read, watched, and listened. Some say they have learned. Maybe more will listen and learn before this story concludes.

I will tell you this. If you go back to the Wednesday before Kristy went into Community Hospice, something beyond miraculous took place. I have used the word miracle several times and there have been miracles happen in this christian love story. I suspect every really good christian love story has several pretty amazing miracles. This story is no different.

But again, on that Wednesday I had come to the end of the road. The tumor in Kristy's head was shaking her, changing her, exaggerating life. She did have a cloud of peace and a chair of strength, but they were challenged by this wicked work in her head.

You cannot understand really what I am writing. You would have had to have been there to comprehend it. Just the day before, we had returned from our last get-a-way and on the way back home the intensity of this tumor turned into turmoil. It wasn't Kristy. The turmoil had been brewing slowly and then with private outbreaks for some time. She could not help it. It was beyond her. Her sweetness was being robbed. Her joy was being attacked.

It is too difficult to describe what was happening to her and to us. No matter what I said or how much I tried to anticipate nor how much I prayed, I could not resolve the attack on her and us.

That Wednesday afternoon, I called her friend, Sandra, to stay with her while I went to church. I was at the end of my road and didn't know what to do. I called sis on my cell in the church parking lot before heading into the service and we prayed. As I stumbled into church late on that Wednesday evening, I can't tell you the uncertainty, the question, the concern that was in my heart as to how I could cope with returning to Kristy, my dear sweet lover and wife.

Church ended and reluctantly I headed home. I walked into the door and Sandra left. Kristy and I were alone again, but sweetness had returned. The trauma was gone. The cloud of peace took over and the chair of strength held strong and had prevailed.

Kristy held me and cried and expressed her sorrow over actions that were not hers. Please forgive me she begged and I forgive you she said and we held each other and cried and wept. I cannot die this way if God doesn't heal me. I want us to have tenderness and love not sorrow and trouble.

The night turned physically painful and the morning brought more and more pain. But never, I say never were those tentacles able to control to override our love. The agitation and mental conflicts were gone. There was a huge trial yet to be faced but now it would be faced hand in hand in love. This change did not happen because of pills or drugs or more surgery. Prayer and Jesus and His love overpowered the storm. They said the agitation and anger toward her caregiver would grow worse by the day. It didn't. Jesus stopped that part of the storm forever. It never returned.

At 6 PM on Thursday Kristy was transported by ambulance to the Community Hospice Center and stayed eight days.

From that Wednesday evening on, there was a tenderness and sweetness so special and sacred you cannot imagine. The Lord stayed the power of that tumor and the pureness of our love that we enjoyed throughout our marriage returned. We walked into and through the valley of the shadow of death and have no regrets. Jesus kept our love. Norma said I kissed Kristy 50 million times. Our loved turned sweet until the journey ended. That my friends, is the faithfulness of God.

At the Community Hospice they prepared me to expect very bad issues that trouble spouses with GBM tumors. They told me caregivers become punching bags and the focus of external abuses that are hard to contain.

But that night, that Wednesday night Jesus took over. Losing your lover is very hard to do. Losing mental capacity to function is so wounding and terrible. God was merciful to Kristy and to me. We were able to walk those last miles of her journey with love more sweet than sweet should ever be.

Watch the videos and read the blogs during her hospice stay and the weeks that followed as she returned home. You will see a woman weakened and struggling who died, but died with peace, joy, and her lover by her side.

Ours is a christian love story. We prayed. We trusted God. We remained committed by His love and grace. Our vows were for better or for worse. God's love overcame the worst.