How hypocritical is that? Desperate times make for shameless hope and pleading. I've pretty much resigned myself to being agnostic. But when life gets ugly in the worst way (Grandpa's stroke, lump in Mom's breast, Grandma's ovary cyst discovery), I start asking for help right quick. I pray, and I mean it. It usually goes something like this.
Look. I don't know if you're out there or not. For all our sakes, I hope you are. I need this. I don't care if I deserve it. The person I'm coming to you about certainly does. Please, please, please keep her happy, out of pain, aware of how much we all love her, and give us more time with her. I know I can't keep her here forever, but I'M NOT READY TO LET GO. Please. Please.
There are usually a bunch of intense pleases after that, and sometimes some what-iffing, but I do my best to nip that in the bud.
Well I got lucky again! Or was heard! Or something! Grandma had laproscopic (sp?) surgery. They removed an ovary and some other junk and tested it. It was "going downhill," but hadn't become cancerous. The surgery was outpatient, and she's back home taking care of Grandpa.
God bless modern medicine. I'll hold on to that woman for as long as they'll let me.
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