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ОглавлениеLight After the Storm
Scott Boyd
May 10th 1974…It rained. A cold drenching rain fell. Heaven wept as friends and family gathered to say goodbye to an angel. The weather was fitting. So alone, at fifteen years old I watched a casket descend into the cold dark earth. I hurt so bad, I hugged myself. She was gone.
As people milled about our home offering words of sympathy after the funeral everything seemed a haze. Late in the afternoon, a friend asked if I’d walk with her to her car. She wasn’t obvious about it, but I know she prayed. Many prayed for me. As I stood thanking her for the love and concern, the cold gray sky broke…distant in the west the setting sun penetrated the dark clouds beaming light and shadows. Between the horizon and a sky dark and gray was a sliver of hope. Light after the storm…
“Honey, your mom has breast cancer.” Six words that smashed into the life of a 13-year-old boy! At 40 years old, June Marie Haverstick Boyd looked at her youngest son and said, “don’t worry…everything will be ok.” But the shake in her voice spoke more fear than confidence.
The year was 1972. I was in 8th grade. Nixon was president. The Viet Nam war was over. All was well in the Universe, and I was in the center. Till now. I had never heard of breast cancer. I didn’t know what it was. I would soon learn.
I probably lived as close to a perfect life as any child could enjoy. My parents were fantastic. I had a mom who loved unconditionally, a dad who gave continuously. We enjoyed summers at the pool, vacations at the beach, a great house, fantastic friends and wonderful neighbors. Seriously…life was GREAT.
Then, those 6 words. Nothing could prepare for what would follow. Surgery, a radical mastectomy. Something thirteen year olds don’t really need to understand. But I had to. Radiation, chemo-therapy—very experimental treatment at the time. Hair loss, nausea and vomiting. Not just a 24 hour bug, but weeks. My brother was off to college, my dad was back to work, and I was home watching as nurses and neighbors worked to bring healing.
Eventually the treatments seemed to work. The wigs and gowns were replaced with fresh new hair, and new clothes. In fact, mom actually went back to work.
Healing…Maybe?
And then the real cruelty began. A second lump in the remaining breast. Another mastectomy, more chemo, and radiation. Drugs and suffering. Candidly it was all a blur. There were more surgeries, and treatments and pain and suffering…and then somewhere in 1974, it became apparent that hope was fading. The only prayer was a miracle.
May 6, 1974 June Marie Boyd rested. She was freed from years of suffering. For her, Peace. But for a survivor, life became a storm. I existed in a sea of gray. I grew up fast, and I grew up hard. June of ‘74 through June of ‘77 was TOUGH. The loneliness is hard to describe, the pain at times unbearable. Words are simply not adequate.
But miracles happen.
They are mysterious and sometimes they are difficult to see. And seldom do they come as we expect, desire or demand. And just like that moment when the sky breaks at sunset, just after the storm, so miracles often appear in that sliver of space and time, between the horizon and blackness. That slice of blue opening to the shining light of the sun. The light after the storm before darkness descends…an answered prayer!
There was a knock on the door to our apartment. Fall 1977. I opened the door, and there stood…an angel! She looked familiar, I knew I recognized her, but couldn’t place the name.
“Oh yea, you don’t remember me, do you?”
“Nancy, right?” “You’re my Dad’s girlfriends cousin right?”
“I saw your dad and Jane over at the Weis Market a few minutes ago, and he told me to stop by to say Hi. They will be here in a minute.”
“Please come in.”
In that moment…that sliver of space and time between the horizon and the black emptiness of the sky, a slice of blue appeared and the sun broke through. I met another angel. I met the woman who would become my wife…the woman who would fulfill my life.
As fate and prayer would have it on that wonderful day in 1977 my pop’s second wife introduced me to her cousin, Nancy Loraine Herr Boyd.
The bible records in Joel 2:25 that the Lord said “And I will restore to you the years that the locusts have eaten.” Meeting Nancy, falling in love, marrying and having a family has provided me a joy and peace that passes understanding. I am complete.
A miracle? I believe. Over 35 years later, life is great again, but the center of the Universe is not me or even my lovely wife…The Author of Miracles who restored the years of destruction is on the throne of my life, and He is the center of the Universe.
Turns out Mom was right, “Everything will be ok.” I love you mom…and I miss you. You’d really love Nance! She is almost as awesome as you!
Representative Scott Boyd is serving in his 5th term as a legislator in the PA House of Representatives. The Lancaster County native approaches public service in the Jeffersonian model as a “yeoman farmer”. Losing his mother to breast cancer has been one of the most formative experiences of his life. Motivated by the grace of God in his life and the love of his wife and family, the former business owner serves the people of the 43rd legislative district with a passion and zeal for the traditional values central to the foundation of his legislative district.
Rom 8:19
