Please Hold My Neighbors In Your Collective Hearts

I have wonderful neighbors. My circle of wonderful neighbors extends for several houses up and down. I've always known this, but they have been unfailingly kind to us particularly since Tom was diagnosed. I'm not playing favorites, but the family next door couldn't be sweeter, and the kids (two teens and almost a tween) couldn't be more polite. They always greet me with a smile and some polite conversation. I don't know how the Mom does it, but I'm in awe.

Recently the youngest one was dressed as if for the first day of school, tossing the ball against the front steps, obviously waiting for Mom or Dad. Our chat went something like this:

Me: Hi, Boyneighbor, you look nice today. Going someplace special?

Neighbor: Not really. I'm getting my haircut for school. Well that and I have something wrong with my head, so I'm having a CAT scan afterwards. And I have an MRI on Friday.

Me (silently): Excuse me dear while I go throw up.

I didn't see his mom for a few days, but spied her carrying in groceries, and our conversation went something like this:

Me: Oh, Momneighbor, I'm so glad to see you. I totally understand this is none of my business, but your son told me about his CAT scan and MRI, and I've been so worried about him and about you. Is there anything I can do to help?

Neighbor: No, thanks, not at the moment. The CAT scan ruled out leukemia, but he needs a few more tests. So keep us in your prayers, okay?

Me (silently): Oh, I can so do that for you.

I am simply unable to wrap my brain around being the mom taking my son for a CAT scan to rule out leukemia. He still has a series of tests ahead of him. One of them is a colonoscopy. This boy is nine years old.

So if you wouldn't mind, could you hold my neighbors in your collective hearts?