Tammi's number one cancer fighting companion is actually none of us. Nope. Sorry human friends, the real companion here is Mumble, her pup.
Mumble knows something isn't quite right, and insists on being on Tammi's lap nonstop. We call this Puppy Therapy, and know it's the most effective kind.
For the mercy of pets, we give thanks.
Tammi Hottle's journey with metastatic breast cancer. The road is dark, but it gets brighter with the miracles of medicine and the mercy of God shining through friends. Get updates, and participate the "baring beautiful" photography project. Send Tammi a note, too!
This is the cover image of this site. It's mom's tree. If you're driving from Monmouth to Galesburg, where she takes her chemotherapy, this tree is on the right side of the road. Most people would drive by and never notice it. But mom did. She noticed this tree years ago, and claimed it as hers.
In the summer you'll notice there are leaves all over the tree, except for at the very top where the branches are bare. It's like mom, missing a little here and there, but beautiful.
Dad has been taking photos of the tree every time he drives by.
Worshipping together on Christmas Eve, remembering that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness never overcomes it.
12.31.15 Mom had had a rough night, and it was clear she was having difficulty breathing and couldn't stop coughing. We believed, hoped even, she had pneumonia. It was New Year's Eve and mom didn't want to lose the day to being sick, so we bought some Mucinex and washed it down with bloody mary's. We wouldn't necessarily recommend this...but shoot they were good...
12.31.15 By New Year's Eve night, we knew we were done. Mom couldn't walk around anymore. We had brunched, shopped, and now needed to rest. So God found us this movie theatre with reclining seats, and we liked it so much we stayed for two shows. We brought the New Year in with "Joy."
1.1.16 The train out of Kansas City was going to be an hour late. So we had breakfast, and laughed some more. There was some anxiety around us. Us Hottle-Dye women tend to know things, and we knew this day wasn't going to end as we wanted. I'm grateful for the extra hour that morning. Thank God for late trains.
1.2.16 I was in the mountains of Montreat while mom was in the hospital those first few days. Doctors tried to ease her lungs by draining some of the fluid sitting on them. The weight of the world bore down on us, but the mountains of Montreat reminded me just how big God is. God is so much bigger than cancer. With this big of a God, there is always hope.
