Just for Today

In 1994 I was living in a small rural community in southwestern Oregon. My twenty-four-year-old daughter Amy had cancer, and a good part of late 1993 and early 1994 were spent on the East Coast in the Washington, D.C. area. The treatments at the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda, Maryland, hadn't been successful and my daughter was going to have a bone marrow transplant at Johns Hopkins Hospital; her older sister Mary was the donor. All went well and Amy was out of the hospital in a few weeks. She was readmitted to the hospital about the first week in April with pneumonia. Her condition deteriorated and the family was summoned to Baltimore. The doctors said that the end was near.