Rachel's Visit

Shortly after receiving the mind-numbing news that I had not one, but two, brain tumors, I was sitting in a crowded, standing room only, ER, wondering when and how best to break the news to my children when my son, Gavin, interrupted me with a phone call. Feeling very unprepared, I plowed ahead. My unexpected announcement rendered him speechless - a rare occasion. Before he could regain his equilibrium and start talking, I explained that we would keep him informed as we learned more and that I’d be calling his sister, Nicole, right away, knowing they'd soon be conferring at Nicole's house about the problem with Mom.

When I called her, Nicole was quick to ask questions, questions for which I had no answers. I gave her the same assurances I had given Gavin, we'd be in touch.

As I reiterated the tale of my two tumors to Rachel, my youngest daughter, and heard her voice in response, I wanted nothing other than to have her beside me.

“How soon can you come see me?” I asked, knowing how difficult it would be to wrest herself away from her job at a small veterinary office, and her husband and three sons, all of whom relied heavily upon her. Without hesitancy, she said she'd arrange it. Understood, but not stated, were our worries about what my future held. Would this be our last chance to see each other?

For well over two years, circumstances had delayed my usual annual visit with Rachel and her family. Twice in that time period, our scattered families came together to celebrate the high school graduation of two of my grandsons; Ben's being the first in the east and Bryan's, in Colorado, a year later. Festive occasions they were. But Rachel and I had time only to hug and smile, cook and serve food, and pose for photos with the graduates. No chance for longed for leisurely talks. No chance for us to reacquaint ourselves with the intimacies of our lives leaving us hungry for time together; time for sharing family memories, for crying over all the milk that had been spilled in the intervening years. Too bad I had to grow a couple of brain tumors to make it happen, but – so be it.

“Wow! Rachel’s coming to West Virginia!” I sang the lyrics with joy. My youngest daughter was coming to town. "Yay!"

Over the next several days, I was buoyed by the anticipation of our being together in spite of an ever-changing landscape of diagnosis, doctors, treatment options and the scheduling of my surgery. Eventually, Mike booked her tickets for Rachel to arrive four days before our departure to Duke/Raleigh. She'd help us prepare for Duke/Raleigh, then we would drop her at Yaeger Airport for her return trip as we left town.

Once we were together, we found our foreboding had disappeared. With our fears blown away, we enjoyed ourselves immensely.


Rachel was quite taken with our cute little airport after hop-scotching airports across the country from Denver. Though she had visited us with her youngest son, Anthony, over ten years earlier, she knew nothing about Charleston, our home now for twelve years. We took her to our favorite places; Taylor’s Book Store for coffee, Ellen’s for ice cream made on site, and several times to the Bluegrass Kitchen, our current favorite restaurant. These were her rewards for all the work she did including cleaning, laundry and cutting Mike’s hair, a task she’d never dreamed of doing. Once Mike got wrapped in a sheet and was sitting on a swivel chair, Rachel took the comb and clippers, leaned over him and asked her first customer, “And how are your kids?”

One day, after telling me he was taking Rachel on a tour of Charleston, Mike instead took Rachel to buy me the surprise gift of an iPod to use at the hospital saying, "I think your Mom is going to be upset with me." But, I'd already figured he'd be buying one some months ago. But, having a joint, secret mission was a fun venture for them.

During her stay, Rachel met several of my closest friends as they dropped by with gifts and food and well-wishing. All were happy to meet one another. Living so far from one another, Rachel hadn't known much about my life here, a gap that was somewhat filled. And with the youngest of my friends, both near Rachel’s age, she remarked how easy it would be to hang out with them, giving the highest stamp of approval on my choices of friends.

And most of all, Rachel and I had plenty of time to talk and talk and talk and talk. And so we did. Since January, we have those days together, we are agreed that our time then was the best time we’d ever had together.