I have done very little reading on the topic of leukemia since receiving Callen’s diagnosis. I have resisted the temptation to surf the Internet. We all know where a Google search leads…no matter the symptom queried, the endpoint is the same: cancer. So with cancer as the starting point, it has seemed a wise choice to not consult Dr. Google on any such related matters.

Sure, we left the hospital armed with books, pamphlets, brochures and binders full of information. We had lists of organizations and agencies and support groups. We received sage advice from our healthcare team. We programmed new numbers into our phones for daytime questions and after-hours emergencies. But no amount of reading could have prepared us for what it would be like to stare cancer in the face - in Callen’s precious face – and live in a “new normal”. We needed a cancer family.

I felt ambivalent about this. How could I need more than I already had? As the saying goes, “Joy shared is multiplied; grief shared is divided.” And my grief was already distributed amongst an army of faithful friends, family members, co-workers and prayer warriors. Was it really not enough? Would I appear desperate, or worse, ungrateful for all we were already receiving?

But nearly a month in, and facing a particularly trying week, I sent a blind text to a friend of a friend of a friend (I’m learning that there are only 3 degrees of separation between most Richmonders!). I waited. And I wondered. Would she want to talk to me? Would she want to go back in time to those agonizing first days? Would she be willing to reach back and pull me forward to preview the future?

In her nine (!) responses that followed, I received not only the answer to those questions, but to others I hadn’t dared pose in an introductory text. She knew the depths of my fear and anxiety. She, too, had been forced to contemplate the unthinkable, unmentionable, and unimaginable. I cried a river of emotions as I read her messages - a total stranger intimately familiar with my life.

Cancer is all about rapidly dividing cells. But with our families of birth, of choice and now borne of circumstance, we are dividing our grief and gathering our strength at a rate faster than leukemia. So, yes, the coming days will bring stressors that will test our strength and sanity. But divided we will stand!