Dear Robin and Mike,
I don't know where to begin this letter to you both. Suffice it to say, when I asked if I could tell people, you didn't consider the public forum of the blog. Hearing that Mike was given a diagnosis of lymphoma crushed me. Had it not been for caller id, I'm not even sure I'd have recognized your voice on the phone this morning, Rob. Even the words "Mike has cancer" didn't register at first. The raw emotion in your voice made me weep and I'm sorry I'm such a weenie. I didn't want to believe it. My day was spent grappling with the idea of Mr. Mike's illness, but you guys have to live through this ordeal. There are still a hundred questions, but mostly the voice in my head is still screaming why? What stage was it caught at? How long and aggressive are the treatments? Will he have the strength to battle it? Will it hurt to hug on him and love him and make him eat good food to keep up his strength, and will the treatments make him too sick to keep food down? Dizzying questions, nagging my thoughts all day.

Lilly has drawn Mike a "get well" card, but the man in the drawing got off pretty lucky. Near as I can tell, he's down with a cold. If only it were that simple for Mike. My heart felt like it stopped beating when I heard you on the phone this morning. Like I could never draw a breath again. Even as I type now, with the tears stinging my eyes, I have to remember that you are you, and stubborn is your middle name, but if you need to be a puddle for awhile, you know where to find me. Being as strong as you think you ought to be will be wearying. You have a place to pull yourself back together with me... I can't promise not to puddle with you, but there's always a box of Kleenex handy. We'll mop it up and you can get back to your man.

Mike, you could not have a better woman at your side to help you through your fight to be better. I know I don't ever want to be on her bad side, so please do what she and the good docs say. You can't leave anyway. Robin will just ruin the yard with too many plants, and then there's the pool-boy she hasn't shopped for yet. You can't let her alone with the landscaping... and I'm pretty sure the pool-boy won't be safe, either.

My thoughts are with you both this evening. Prayers for recovery, for rest, and for the strength to cope in the weeks and months ahead have been said for the two of you. They will be repeated as often as necessary. I just hope God holds up to his usual standard of letting me have my way. I love you both. C