Between sleep and awake

There's a great line in the movie "Hook" that Tinkerbell says to Peter Pan after he goes back to his home from Neverland. She says to him, "You know that place between sleep and awake? Thats where I'll always be. Thats where I'll always love you." I say this because in that brief, split second between sleep and awake each morning, my life is normal. In that split second, Barry will be getting up to give our dog his dog cookie in the morning, make coffee and bring it to me in bed. Reality is, the alarm goes off and I look at my shell of a husband who has had a bad night of nausea, vomiting and pain and I drag myself out of bed due to lack to sleep to do all of the aforementioned tasks while the tears run down my face. In that split second, my husband will tease me in the morning and kiss me good bye as he leaves in his big Ford F-150 that has a bumper sticker on the back that says "I love my wife." His arms will be strong and tan, and there will be mechanics grease under his nails. His voice will be strong as he will ask whats for dinner tonight and he will consume whatever I put in front of him with gusto. Reality is, the shop must be sold or let go because he hasn't worked since the middle of January. His voice is weak and his nails are white as snow, as is his face. He will not consume anything with gusto anymore as eating is a huge chore and nothing, nothing tastes good. In that moment between sleep and awake, we are planning vacations, and dinner out with friends and what fun things to do with the grandkids this weekend. Reality is, we cannot plan anything anymore. It is a day by day, moment by moment kind of thing. I'm gonna say this very cliche phrase, but its so true: Cancer sucks. Its horrible to watch the one you love suffer and try so hard and valiantly battle on and there hardly anything you can do for them besides hold their hand, their head and their heart. The tears flow frequently now as the cancer has spread to the brain, and we cannot start the clinical trial because of that. The disappointment and fear were tangible when the doctor told us at UCSF. We cried, we hugged each other.....we drove home as the numbness spread. Barry started talking about getting his affairs in order now. We start radiation today. Short of a miracle, things are looking very bleak. But we still hope, we still love and if love could cure him, he would have been healed a million times over by now with the outpouring we have received. We appreciate all those who have encouraged us, and never mind those who have come over and given us "premonitions" about what is going to happen. We place our trust in our Lord Jesus Christ. God is bigger than cancer. There are still miracles to be had. And God loves Barry even more than we do and maybe He can't wait to take him to Himself. And if that happens sooner rather than later, I will let go with dignity, trust and more love than you can even begin to imagine. Because he will still live in that place between sleep and awake. ....and in my heart forever.