True Love

While reading about intimacy in relationships for my homework, I found myself thinking constantly about my mother and father. They’ve been married for forty-six years. Six years ago, my mother was diagnosed with oral cancer. It was devastating news (she’d never smoked/drank/chewed). She endured two surgeries which cut away half of her tongue, all of the soft tissue inside her mouth, and three of her teeth on the right hand side. After the second surgery, the doctors prescribed her a special pill that suppressed the cancer at the cellular level. Although incredibly draining on her system, the medication worked, and the cancer went into remission. Unfortunately, as is often the case with cancer, it returned with a vengeance in May of 2009. Six months of chemotherapy and daily radiation treatments failed to eradicate the tumor. As a last resort, my Dad took her to Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City, Utah.

A world-renowned surgeon at the Institute, Jon Hunt, gave my Mom two options: radical surgery or awaiting death. My Mom and Dad chose the radical surgery. It was performed in January of 2010. For weeks and weeks, my vibrant, bouncy, AMAZING mother has been confined to Huntsman Institute Room #5506. Week after agonizing week, my dear, devoted father has not left her side. Patiently, with great care, he has learned to nurse her around the clock. A calm and patient man, he dislikes conflict and avoids it when possible. In defending and advocating for his bride, however, he was a giant in rendering her the best care available from every staff member. He stood by her bedside and refused to let anyone bully her. He slept on the small couch in her room, ate his meals in a chair beside her bed, and did his laundry in a small washroom just down the hall.

Intimacy in relationships doesn’t just mean physical gratification. It is love so deep that it transcends even cancer. My Dad left everything else behind; the care of their home, livestock, fields; his job; his friends, activities, hobbies. Caring for my Mom was all that mattered.

My mother is finally well enough to leave Huntsman Cancer Institute today. My father is driving her to a skilled nursing facility near their home to finish her recovery. He will be able to return home, finally, only twenty minutes from her location. She will be in the facility, near several of her children and a multitude of friends, for only a little while until her wound completely heals. The wound was a gaping hole encompassing her entire left cheek and part of her neck but has now healed to just a small hole needing temporary care.

Intimacy requires devotion, commitment, and emotional depth. During this ordeal, I have watched my Dad. I realized that everything in his life--all of the learning, skills, and knowledge he has gained--has been for this moment in their lives. There is an 80% chance that the cancer will come back sooner or later in the next five years. Regardless, the level of intimacy between the two of them has been altered forever. And we children have learned life lessons while watching this perfect example of intimacy play out before our eyes. How blessed I am to have such noble parents to set the example.