The September of 1978 was interminable. Our baby didn’t show up for her due date on September 3. She didn’t come the next day or the next. Temperatures reached into the eighties and stretched toward ninety. The only cool place in our house was the bathtub full of cold water.
The baby still hadn’t come when my husband Steve went back to college near the middle of September. Steve said he’d call me from a pay phone after each class. Trouble was that we were counting every dime. So we made a plan. Steve let the phone ring three times. If I was fine, I wouldn’t answer, and the dime would return to Steve. If I needed help, I’d pick up the phone.
Steve used his dime all day and all week. The doctor left for vacation, and Steve kept collecting dimes from return slots. But the day finally came, and on September 23, after twelve hours of labor, I held our daughter, feeling a love for her that was deep and fierce.
Ann Marie knew the ways of a baby without needing to be taught. She held her head steady from the beginning and knew how to latch on to nurse. With dark hair long enough to braid, Ann Marie was popular with the nurses.
September of 2024 has also been interminable. The baby I held forty-six years ago, the baby with the long, dark hair, has lost it, all of it. And now she wears a hat. All through these months of treatment, I’ve watched her fight against cancer and for health with pluck and grace. She is, once again, popular with the nurses. When they see her coming, they smile.
This morning, as I write, Ann Marie is receiving her last infusion of chemotherapy. And we are grateful for her good prognosis.
My love for her that September of 1978 was fierce and deep, as it is now. But in this long September of 2024, my respect for her has grown. I’ve seen her get up in the morning and take her courage in hand to do the daily things that must be done, even when the world seems to have cracked and split in two.
When I wrote Ann Marie’s card, I couldn’t bring myself to say happy birthday. It likely won’t be very happy. She’ll still be recovering from her last infusion. But this birthday signifies something bigger than carefree happiness. It marks a year of fortitude and growth.
Kudos, Ann Marie!
Apple to Apple 
way to hang in there, and Marie!
-Kevin
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Oh, my dear Phyllis!
When a daughter fights cancer with courage and determination, when we trace the scars the surgeon’s knife has left across her chest, when the days seem interminable and we hold hope as a thing of rare beauty, when we do everything within our power to help and to encourage and be optimistic, but cry hard in the night watches, and when we choose to trust God ANYHOW, and invite Him into our pain- that’s the best we can do as the Mama.
. . And it is enough, Phyllis. The Rock will be slippery and wet, the winds will howl and the nights be long, but the Rock will not move. We can count on it. He is with you.
Praying for you and Ann Marie.
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What beautiful words of encouragement left by the last person and they are so true. Continually praying for you! Much love to you ❤️
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l’m so sorry your family is dealing with cancer and it’s treatment!! I feel your pain as l also had three kinds of tumors and 2 separate mastectomies, almost eight years apart. I lost all my hair both times from the chemo treatments and l’m thankful for good recovery and restoration. I want to encourage you and pray for Ann Marie to recover completely! I feel my faith in Jesus is stronger because of this difficult experience. May you feel His presence, love, grace and courage!! Hugs!!
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Wow. An incredible journey. Blessings to you both. Surrounding you with prayer.
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Phyllis, this is Colleen. I had no idea Ann Marie was dealing with cancer. Mahlon and I will most definitely pray for her and for you and Steve as well. Thanks for sharing this difficult journey.
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Thanks for this beautiful piece Phyllis !! I did not know that Ann Marie was fighting cancer ! I will pray for her and her family! As a Mom to 4 adult kids -I know how your Momma heart can break as you watch them struggle and go through hard times ! So very thankful for the Holy Spirit who takes “my groanings that cannot be uttered” and presents them to our Father’s heart of compassion and love ! He will take care of our precious grown up children ! And comfort our hearts also !! 🙏🙏💔💔🌈🌈 Darlene Yoder
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