Je me Souviens

Several weeks ago, my family was treated with a five-day cottage stay.

This cottage was cozy, comfortable and picturesque.  It was neatly nestled among trees and located near Mont Tremblant in the province of Quebec.

Our family had registered for this vacation through a program called Cottage Dreams; a program that provides donated cottage-stays to families who have been "touched" by cancer.
I think I would have used terminology like "ravaged" or "rearranged" by cancer, but I know what they meant.

Cottage Dreams hopes to provide a place for "rejuvenation" and "reconnection" in the aftermath of cancer diagnosis, treatments, surgeries, radiation, needles, rearrangements and appointments.
It's like a wondrous reward all packaged up with four walls, a fireplace and lake frontage.

A beautiful, fellow breast-cancer survivor told me all about this program one evening.

"Our family went to this AMAZING cottage through Cottage Dreams!" she enthused one night.  We had met at a local Tim Horton's and were nursing our coffees over several hours, "Ours was huge!  Like, bigger than our house.  And so beautiful!  We had a wonderful time just being together that week."

"Wow!  Seriously!?" I had responded incredulously, "that sounds amazing."  Like, maybe the first super-amazing thing I had heard in a long time.
I had been getting used to hearing bad news.

"So, you need to have needles for 8 consecutive days following your chemo infusions.  They will occur from day three to day ten...."
Hurrah.

"These needles we are going to give you will help with your white blood cell count....but they may cause bad bone pain."
Wonderful.

".....oh...and your teeth will get yellow....and soften, so watch for extra cavities."
Great.

"....and chemo often causes something called 'chemo brain'; so if you notice that you lose your train of thought suddenly or forget words, that's 'chemo brain'..."
Yippee.

So, when my friend told me about the Cottage Dreams program, I was uber excited.  This was something my family could look forward to when all my treatments were done.

I did some investigating and got right to work getting registered.
Fill in forms?  Done!
Get 'em signed by the family doctor?  Completed!
Send said filled-in and signed forms away by mail?  Check and check!
And then we played a few weeks of The Waiting Game.

This game is NOT very fun.
The rules are simple.  You sit.  And wait.  Winning occurs when the waiting period is over.  I DID tell you it was not very fun.  You should not play this game when you invite your friends over for a night of comradery, companionship and cookies.  Unless you would like your friends to no longer be your friends.
Then you should play The Waiting Game all night.  With raw beef.

So, Paul, the kids and I all engaged in a riotous round of The Waiting Game and, one day, we received an email from Cottage Dreams.

"Congratulations!" the email proudly proclaimed, "Your family is eligible for a cottage in the  Cottage Dreams cancer recovery program.  Please let us know when you are available to go on holidays.  Also, let us know what region you are most interested in visiting........the Kawarthas, Muskoka, Haliburton Highlands, Bruce Peninsula, the Thousand Islands area, Barrie, Tobermory, Quebec...."

My family was so excited.
We reread the list of cottage locations and then checked them out on Google Maps.
We were giddy and giggled together over the possibilities.
We were like a bunch of kids in a candy shop.  Rich kids with extensive sweet tooths surrounded by aisles and aisles of sugary goodness!
We knew that any cottage stay would be fantastically super, but a cottage in Quebec had us all intrigued.

"Let's go to Quebec," one of our kids shouted because our children do not have Indoor Voices.

"Oui Oui.  Nous allons à Québec!" I intoned lyrically.  I was trying my French on for size and it was feeling good.

We made our choice and soon received further updates from Cottage Dreams.  They had a cottage for us and we could click on the link provided to check it out.
We clicked.
We checked it out.
We tried not to faint with excitement.

Not only was the cottage gorgeous and filled with every amenity known to mankind, but it was located on Lac Forget.

For reals, y'all!
Lac Forget.

Our family was going to cottage near the magical waters of memory loss.
A place where the memories of a year of pain, illness and crazy could be forgotten or, at the very least,  set aside for a time.  A time where we could be together and heal emotionally.
Spiritually.
Physically.

And what a vacation it was!
Most of the time, we had all of Lac Forget to ourselves.
We were surrounded by the soothing sounds of lapping lake and wind-rustled trees.
Paul and I spent a lot of time crayon-colouring and conversing with our kids.  At night, we gathered around the glowing embers of a campfire or lounged on soft red couches and read.  Candles flickered and dispelled the deepening darkness.
We fished for hours off the back dock.  Well, the kids fished for hours off the dock.  Paul and I spent copious amounts of time sliding wiggly worms ONTO hooks and then removing wiggly fishies OFF those same hooks several minutes later.
We took a panoramic gondola ride to the top of Mount Tremblant and then hiked.
We kayaked and tried out paddle-boarding for the first time ever.
We reconnected.

Tonight, I wish I could provide a cottage stay for anyone out there who feels stuffed-to-the-gills with suffering and sorrows.
I wish you could all experience the laying down of burdens on the shores of Lac Forget like we did.
But I cannot.
I am so sorry.

What I can do is share my story and encourage you.  So I will try.

For starters, let me tell you that despite hanging out at Lac Forget for five whole days with my family, I have no intention of forgetting.
I plan to remember our hill-top hiking, fishing frenzies and countless hours of colouring.  I plan to remember illness, baldness and surgeries.

Je me souviens.
I remember.

Because alongside those icky-bicky cancer memories are the memories of kindness, compassion and love shared.  While we were suffering, God surrounded us with people who prayed and encouraged and gave what they could to help out.
God sent family, friends and neighbours.
God sent our church-family and fellow homeschool mommies.
God sent out perfect strangers who didn't know us but who donated their cottage anyways so that we could have a place to heal.
Je me souviens.
I remember.

Thank-you from the bottom of our hearts.

Merci beaucoup.


I would like to conclude by sharing some song lyrics by Crowder (?) with you.  Wherever you are, be encouraged.

Come out of sadness 

From wherever you've been

Come broken hearted

Let rescue begin

Come find your mercy

Oh sinner come kneel

Earth has no sorrow 

That heaven can't heal

Earth has no sorrow 

That heaven can't heal

So lay down your burdens 

Lay down your shame

All who are broken

Lift up your face

Oh wanderer come home

You're not too far

So lay down your hurt

Lay down your heart

Come as you are

There's hope for the hopeless

And all those who've strayed

Come sit at the table

Come taste the grace

There's rest for the weary

Rest that endures

Earth has no sorrow

That heaven can't cure