When I was little in the summer at the Haven pool, I would hang on to the side when I couldn’t touch bottom.

I remember the every time fear when I jumped off the high dive and the one time I hit the water with a belly flop that took the air out of my lungs. I thought, “This is it. Life is over,” followed by a panic and desperation to get to the side where the wall was rescue, was life.

When I was a little older and Lori and her parents took me to Cheney Lake or Kanopolis to go skiing, I had a bright orange life vest and learned to float on my back and let the vest do its thing.  I would float in silent panic, hoping there were no snakes, no piranhas, no sharks, and that the boat would swing back around and Elwood would rescue me by throwing out the life preserver before I was taken down by a croc.

There are moments in my world when I have felt that life is out of my control, that I am hanging on to the side for dear life, that just under the surface, dark and scary is coming to get me. I get the wind knocked out of me and feel the panic rising because I can’t touch the bottom.

And then a card arrives in the mail from Geri, and another from Delores.

Or a coloring book with a sweet message tucked inside arrives from my daughter and her family.

Or the doorbell rings and dinner arrives from Joyce or Ken and Karen.

And a pink angel in my flower bed greets me when I open the front door, an angel that says, “Sisters make the best friends.”

Or messages begin arriving for Sam on his CaringBridge site that let us know we are not alone and people are supporting us in prayer and encouragement.

Or an ice pack takes away the throbbing.

And a heavy blessing box from author-to-be Linda is opened to surprise me with a “waiting room bag” filled with every last possible thing anyone could ever need for sitting the hours away in a hospital, including Silly Putty to share with the anxious and the bored.

And text messages yoo hoo at me saying, “How are you doing?” “You and Sam are in my prayers.” “Just checking on you.”

I am grateful for these life rings. Each one of these life rings is evidence that God is with us. He is with us in the people who reach out and throw a rope of “You’ve got this! Just hang on tight!”

Dear Rhonda and Dear Sam,

I am honored that you have entrusted me as a friend and shared your news.  I would have rather heard you had won the lottery, but for you guys, that would have been the second time, as finding each other was the first lottery won.  I will keep you in active prayer.  I can’t help think that the Lord brought you this far together to then undo the great relationship He has created.  Your unwavering faith will help you get through this battle.  Remember God gave us tear ducts for a reason, so when the tears need to flow, let them.  False bravery will get you nowhere, but a true positive attitude can make miracles happen.  It is only natural and okay to be scared, angry, confused, nervous, anxious and downright terrified.  Take your time and work through those emotions.  Once you’ve let go of the “why me”, “why us”, “why now” – put on your sparring gloves and fight, fight, fight. Be the example to others on how to go through hard times and do it with positivity, humor, peace and grace.  I know this isn’t the last chapter in your story.  I am looking forward to the sequel. – Linda

The waiting room bag

My way of hanging on to the side for dear life – I lounge and prop my feet up.

Sam’s way of hanging on to the side –
he builds a wall with 85 pound blocks
during his pre-hospital week. Oh, Sam…