Pinky Pie

Repairing my good name, God & Me

Posted on: November 19, 2009

I forgot how scary this projected image of the Wizard was ...


I don’t plan to sue my friend for slander, but she has described me as far more noble than I am, a reason I need to repair my good name to make it bad or at least not so hot.  If you can follow that reasoning, you have been reading this blog for a while.

Here’s the story. A friend told me she has been quoting me as saying that when our son Matt was sick with leukemia, I was willing to bargain with God to take Matt’s place.  (I’m not even sure I knew her then or at least not well.)

Call me a bad mother if you must, but I never said that. I never wanted to go through what he did for three years of chemotherapy, even if his drugs didn’t appear to be as harsh on him as mine are on me. (I may be making assumptions that are wrong here, too.)

And I know other parents who said that they would take their child’s place and I respect them for that if it makes them feel better. It just wasn’t me.

If I had the ability to bargain with God, I would go for no one getting cancer. Either way, it’s magical thinking.  And, then I also would want no more illness in general, wars, poverty, etc.

But, I surely wouldn’t want to interfere with the important work of God – enabling field goals and foul shots for athletes praying before those plays. I know what’s important in life.

By the way, now that I’m in chemotherapy I have a greater understanding of that 13-year-old Minnesota boy who ran away this summer because he felt so awful after chemotherapy. He ultimately returned, had his treatments and is now cancer free.

I hope I am over the worst of my cancer treatment, that the next four of Taxol won’t be as difficult. Rumor has it that Taxol is easier than Adriamycin and Cytoxan, although it has its own side effects.  The first of these treatments is tomorrow.

I do not plan to run away from home, however, no matter how Taxol treatment turns out.

Nor will I ask God to give my cancer to anyone else.

And speaking of God, when I was little my image of God was of the projected face of the Wizard of Oz before the curtain was pulled. I remembered the image as much kinder looking than the photo I was able to find on the web. Yikes.

And let me tell you one other story while I’m on the subject of God. One day when I was on the phone doing an interview for a newsletter, I heard my son and his friend arguing loudly.

Then around 5, they were debating the issue of whether God goes to the bathroom. Michael said God did not while his buddy insisted God did.

“God is a force,” Michael said.
“Jesus Christ,” said his friend, giving what he felt was absolute proof.

Hearing increasingly louder voices, I excused myself from the interview for a few moments so I could have a little chat with the boys.  In their young ways, they were representing their own faiths. I encouraged them to respect each other’s differences and they either took this theological study elsewhere or turned on to other subjects.

After our little chat, I’m sure I stopped in the bathroom. I am, after all, only human.


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