David Russell Mosley
11 July 2017
The Edge of Elfland
Hudson, New Hampshire
I have wonderful news. Today my son went in for what was meant to be his final MRI. For those of you who don’t know his story, at 8 weeks old one my twin sons was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, a kind of childhood cancer. After two rounds of chemotherapy and a flight back to the United States (all of this having taken place in England during my PhD) we were told that his tumor had shrunk and he could be considered cancer free.
Since that fateful day in October of 2014 Edwyn has continued to have urine tests and regular MRIs to check if any cancer showed up in his urine stream or if the tumor had begun growing again. Every time Edwyn had to go back to the hospital, we would be worried. What if this time they said it was growing again? What if it had spread? Once we had just such a scare. An overfull bladder and had made it appear as though the tumor were bigger. That was terrifying.
Still, for the last three years, we have maintained hope that this would all be resolved. And now, with some qualification, I can officially say that this is the case. Edwyn will continue to have annual blood and urine tests, but he no longer needs MRIs to view the mass that sits inside him, a physical reminder of one of the most trying times in all our lives.
Over the years so many of you have been so supportive of us. You have given us your prayers, your love, your food, even your money. I can never fully express my gratitude for you all. But this is why I’m still working on a book about Edwyn, my vision of angels, suffering, and liturgy. I’m writing it hoping to finally express emotionally, imaginatively, spiritually, and theologically what happened to my burgeoning family so early on and where it has taken us today. I’m also writing this as a thank you to everyone who stood beside us. The body of Christ around the world was with us and continues to be with us. God has blessed my family in a way I can never truly understand. Why was my family spared when so many others are not so fortunate? I’ll never know the answer to that. What I do know is that I will continue to work not to take this gift for granted. I will love my sons, my wife, and our future children with all that I am, knowing that in loving them I am loving God. I will love all of you, knowing that in loving you I am loving Christ. I will attempt to be attentive to the movements of the Spirit. I will continual to remember the communion of saints and the holy angels that surround us at all times. I will try to live in the world I was given a glimpse of one Sunday morning during Edwyn’s cancer treatment. There’s nothing else I can do.
Thank you all again. I love you dearly.