This blog is brought to you by the number 72.....

My Dad was 72 when he lost his battle to cancer in November....

72 is the number of laps I walked in memory of dad.......

 

When Amy and I decided to form our own team for this year’s Relay for Life event we never expected it to be something we would do in ‘memory’ of dad.  It was intended to ‘honor’ dad and his second courageous battle with cancer.  Last year during Relay he was finishing up Radiation treatment.  We watched with hope as the Survivors and Caregivers walked the opening lap.  This year's Relay found us  marking 5 months without our precious dad and watching.  The same opening lap was bittersweet to watch.

The days leading up to the Relay were filled with anxiety.  I tried to prepare myself mentally, physically and emotionally.  Things were looking promising last year and the tears took over so I couldn’t imagine how we would hold up this year with the grief still so fresh.   I decided to set a personal goal and make that my focus for the night.  It had to be something meaningful and I quickly decided on 72 – one lap for every year of dad’s life.  While sharing that goal with mom I realized that would be 18 miles…yikes!  Mistake, scratch that, make it 45 laps.  That would be one year for every year of my life that I had my cherished dad in my life.  That would be doable.  I could manage 45 laps over the course of the night.  Second mistake, announcing my goal on FB and having my little sister insist we could meet the original goal of 72 laps.   I wondered how long it would take her to figure out the total mileage of that trek.

The night of the Relay came and we were supported by a wonderful team of people including family and friends.  I must say that my sister has some of the most amazing people in her life.  Perhaps that is because she is so amazing herself.  They were creative, friendly, thoughtful and encouraging!  I wish I had spent more time getting to know some of them better but I had a mission in mind.   The first mile came easy for me—-perhaps because of the sweet lady, EJ, who kept me company on the track—that I decided to keep up the momentum and 10 laps turned into 20.  Hey this isn’t too bad, iPod playing and making good time, 30 laps down and soon it was 40…still feeling no pain, sweaty but not winded.   I was soon met by a fellow walker—presumably military and toting a backpack—who inquired what lap I was on.  He shared his goal of 80 so I blurted out my goal of 72.  I was too far in not to give it a shot…and give it a shot I did.  The feet and knees began to question my sanity about lap 59 so sister and I decided to take a short rest.   Soon we were back out on the track and those last laps were by far the hardest and also the sweetest.  I was finishing up with my sister, my best friend, my confidante, my encourager and my inspiration!  Counting down the final laps I think we both let a heavy sigh of relief as we rounded the final corner.  Dad was surely smiling down on his ‘Daddy’s Girls’ with love and pride.

72 is the number of laps I walked in memory of dad.

I would gladly walk 72 laps every day just to have another day with him…..

Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.  “Honor your father and mother” -Ephesians 6:1-2



When I least expect it....

I have learned to expect the unexpected.  What I haven’t learned is how to deal with it when it occurs.  Sometimes it happens in private and I can let the tears roll freely.  Other times it happens in public or in the company of others which presents a challenge to maintain my composure.

The five month anniversary of my dad’s death passed ever so quietly last Friday.  It wasn’t until the following day that it was spoken of.  We all remembered the day.  Each of us mourned the day.  Perhaps in our efforts to cope we each chose not to speak it aloud to one another.  Personally, I never want my hurt or pain to contribute to that of another—particularly my mother or sister.  So, we each acknowledged the day privately and alone.  Looking back now, I see that might have been a mistake.  My mom asked the following day if I realized what the day before had been and sadly I told her I did. Yes, in hindsight I think it was a mistake not to acknowledge the day with each other.  It’s so hard to know how to move forward in grief without looking back at the cause of it.  When I think of the hurdles and obstacles we faced during dad’s last year I get mired down in details.  I can vividly recall the many days we were in the hospital…sometimes down to the detail of what we were wearing on certain occasions, or who took the time to visit dad, and the hope that we all carried with us each time we left the hospital.

Moving forward is hard.  Not just a little.  A LOT.  I don’t like it.  I want my dad back.

By now, I know most of my grief triggers.  The ones that will bring the tears, the depression, the yearning to have my dad back.  Some I avoid, some I can’t.  Memories come flooding back with pictures of him, songs on the radio, and physical pieces of his life.  Those are things that I expect to touch me and stir the ever present feelings of grief.

Then there are the things I would not expect to affect me….those are harder to cope with.  They can sneak upon me quickly and without warning, leaving me little time to mask the tears or prepare for the hurt that my heart will feel.  As I walked through the neighborhood this week enjoying the sun shining on my face and the breeze against my skin I also noticed the sweet smell of flowers and a fresh mowed yard.  Tears began immediately.   The smell of freshly cut grass instantly reminded me of my dad and the great pride he took in keeping the yard mowed, edged and looking nice. The sweet scent of the flowers conjured up the images of my mom’s beautiful flowers she carefully tends each year.  The memories take over and soon I can picture my mom and dad sitting on the patio after a morning in the yard taking a ‘coke break’.  I want that life back.

The reality is that my mom is now tending to those flowers alone and moving forward in life alone—maybe not alone, but without her husband.  And reality for me is that I am moving forward without my dad.   My heart still breaks….and sometimes it is when I least expect it.

All you who put your hope in the Lord be strong and brave...Psalm  31:24

I will see you in my dreams.....

I’m not a great sleeper these days.  Actually I haven’t slept well in a very long time, but that hasn't interfered with my dream life.  For as long as I can recall I have had a very active and vivid dream life.  All kinds of dreams…the good, the bad and the ugly….you name it I dreamed it!  I have had the common dreams of falling and being chased where I normally wake up breathless from all that falling and/or running. Or one of my faves…needing to be able to shoot someone and the bullet just falls out of the gun with no pep, no zip, no speeding towards the intended target.  Please, no anti-NRA comments here.  I have a right to a gun and if someone is trying to hurt me I reserve the right to use it.  I would however like it to work correctly! 

 As a kid I had a few recurring dreams that looking back must have been due to my fear of something happening to my parents.  Often they have partial truths to them.  One included my parents going camping on the Arkansas River with several family members---truth.    Amy and I were left behind with the grandparents because we were too young—truth, or maybe we were too obnoxious…nah!  Anyway the point is that I dreamed my mom cut her hand and no one would help her.  Not a band-aid to be had in that camp!  Seems silly now but I remember being very concerned about her possibly being hurt and not getting the medical attention she needed at the time.

Bad Dreams and nightmares are not as common as they used to be but I also know the triggers to help avoid them.  Scary movies and horror shows are not my friends.  They are guaranteed to bring on a bad dream.   Actually watching some of today’s crime scene type shows can be enough to let a bad dream slip through.  What is up with TV today?  The actual news is not much better!

As it happens I took a Human Relations course in college where we dabbled a bit in Dream Analysis and Interpretation.   The instructor was very interested in the subject and challenged us to journal our dreams.  She did some amateur analysis of those brave enough to share their dreams….that would NOT include me.  Some of her theories proved to be true….one of course being that your subconscious can play a role in the dreams that you have. 

Not long after dad died I had a dream that he was the only one at home and he told me that he thought it was best that he went on ahead first.  Since that time I’ve had several dreams of him.  Dreams of him as a younger dad, dreams where he spoke, dreams where he didn’t, dreams of him smiling, dreams of him working around the house and I have cherished each one……until I wake up. An intense ache fills my soul when I finally awake enough to realize it was only a dream.   I miss my dad.  I miss him terribly.  What I would give to have one more moment with him.  One more smile, one more hug, one last  ‘I love you!     That is not to be. 

In the meantime I look forward to seeing him in my dreams…..

“The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.” - Unknown

Navigating the Potholes....

Grief is a strange journey.  While I am not alone on this journey I sometimes feel as though the path I travel is different.  Every day is different yet every day is the same.  I wake up each day and one of my first thoughts is that dad is gone.  Some days I can deal with the sadness quickly and move forward to start my day and other days the sadness drapes over me until I can find a release.  A good cry in the shower often helps.  So there are good days and not so good days.  This is to be expected. 

I am doing the best I can to navigate through the potholes that seem to fill this journey.

Here are just a few that I have tried to avoid—unsuccessfully so far.

Grief eating….Yep, that’s right.  I know there must be a medical or scientific term for it but I have moved on from stress eating to grief eating.  I have managed to eat my way through the grief and my pants are suffering greatly.   The daredevil that I am, I decided to check in with my rude and unfriendly scale this week.  What a mistake, twelve pounds in twelve weeks.  Sigh…

Tracking time… Yes it has been twelve weeks since dad’s death.  Could it be a coincidence that I have managed to pack on twelve pounds in those twelve weeks?  I cannot move on from counting the weeks and days since dad’s death.  I am sure it’s not healthy but I feel the overwhelming need to mentally track how long he has been gone.  Almost every Monday at 10:15 he comes to my mind and I remember our last moments together.

Memories….  A trip back to Arkansas to celebrate a beloved aunt’s 93^rd birthday this weekend was bittersweet.  Mom, Amy and I have made several ‘girls only’ trips to Arkansas over the years.  Dad was typically content to stay at home during these two day there and back swift trips.  This time as we pulled out of the driveway I mentally recalled the normal banter that would have taken place had he been here.  Have you checked the air in your tires?  Oil change recently?  Filled up with gas?  Be sure to watch your speed.  (By the way, I never speed.)  And my favorite…keep an eye out for the idiots on the road!  Several times on the trip I felt the impulse to call him and report the details of the trip—how many troopers, the number of pit stops, the unbelievable amount of road kill we encountered and how fast we made it there—all without speeding of course. Wink!

Music…. Dad’s love of country music influenced both Amy and I.   A few years ago I gave him one of the Time Life Collection of Country hits.  I borrowed a few of the CD’s before he went into the hospital the last time and they are still in my CD player.  It’s a sure way to bring the tears but I love listening to the artists and songs that I know he enjoyed.  It makes me feel closer to him. 

Dad’s Things….Seeing or being around his things naturally invokes certain memories.  Dad almost always drove trucks as I was growing up.  Save the time back in the 80’s when gas prices were so outrageous that he decided to go super economical in a tiny car to drive back and forth to GM.    Dad’s last vehicle was a white Chevrolet truck.  It is super low mileage.  The majority of the miles are the result of the many trips he made to Arkansas to take care of his dad and to vacation with his family.  He was meticulous with the cleaning and maintenance of his truck.  It needs to be started and driven occasionally so this week I took it to give it a much needed bath.  Imagine my shock as I pull into the car wash and the song that comes on is ‘I drive your truck’.  Let’s just say that it’s nice that the car wash provides some privacy….the tears came rolling.  The gist of the song is that someone drives the truck of a loved one sometimes and that’s how they cope. 

I can’t say that driving dad’s truck is my way of coping but I hope to find a healthy healing way to do so soon!   How does ‘I am fat and I drive your truck’ sound for a new tune?

So all in all, the journey is long and there is no map to follow but I’m thankful for my fellow passengers who support me!

Baby steps....

On a personal note...  I am back.  I took a brief hiatus from posting my blogs because frankly they were not all sunshine and butterflies.  I know the heaviness of some of my recent posts were not choice reading for some people...as indicated by a sweet family member who shared that they could no longer read my blog because it brought tears and sadness.  I understand.  Really I do.  I often fight through the tears and sadness to get the words out.  Writing is my personal form of 'therapy' and helps to process my feelings....so with this blog, just as in life, expect to find both the good and the bad here.  Hopefully, with time, the good will outweigh the bad...

When I went to review the last post from my blog I noticed it was dated 12/19.  For now the 19th is a representation of the date dad died.  For the better part of my earlier blog postings I dated events based on the date of dad's diagnosis and now I find myself with dating them from the date of his death.  A distinct 'before' and 'after' has now defined my relationship with time and life in general.  Oh how I wish to re-visit those 'before' days. 

The holidays have since come and gone and as imagined it was a quieter and more surreal 'celebration' for our family this year.  I think we were champions in our efforts to keep most of our traditions alive while keeping the tears and sadness at bay, but that was mostly a public facade.  Privately we all dealt with our own grief and mourned the loss of dad realizing the reality of our first Christmas and New Year's without him.  I have my doubts that holidays will ever be the same for our family but I am hopeful that with time and healing the joy will be restored. 

For now everything is baby steps for me.  Starting over in a new, yet definitley not improved, life is where I find myself.  Realizing this is final, his death is final.  There is no going back....only moving foward.  Stumbling through the grief and wondering not if, but when the next pang of heartache will present itself.  Will it be when I wake in the morning and realize my dad is gone?  Will it be when I see his picture or hear an old country song? 

 So many times it is in the little everyday things that I find my throat constricting, chest tightening and the tears threatening to flow.  The heartache comes when I pick up the phone to call dad to see how he is, when I pull up to the house and see his truck sitting in the driveway and when his chair is empty at the dinner table.  When I can't dial the phone I try to imagine what dad would say if I could vent to him about the horrible traffic or fill him in on what the boys were up to.   I see his truck and I think of the last trip to we took to Arkansas.  He tossed his truck keys to me and told me to drive and we chatted almost the entire way.  I sit at the dinner table and have to make myself focus on the people that are there and not that his chair is empty or is now taken by someone else.

I am still sad, I am still hurting but I am also trying my best not to stay wrapped up in a blanket of grief. Admittedly there have been days I would prefer to stay mired down in my own self-pity and ignore the rest of the world but I have chosen not to wallow in my sadness. 

Staying busy and keeping distracted have proven to be my allies when it comes to navigating the challenging days.  The quiet and alone times that I once yearned for only yield time for my mind to wander and think and question all that has happened so busy equals sanity for the time being.
I am sure I could probably pay a professional to tell me that I am in denial (or some other stage of grief)  but I have managed this journey on my own with the love and support of my family and my faith thus far and I plan to finish it that way.

It won't be a race, it will be a long journey to be certain.  It will be filled with hills and valleys, good times and not-so-good times, and most importantly with my family.

So a day at a time, a step at a time, here we go.....

My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.    

Psalm 121:2

The 19th....

Today is the 19^th. 

One month ago I held my father’s hand and softly whispered my final good-byes to him.  I searched for courage and strength to tell him it was ok to let go, that he didn’t have to keep fighting and that we would all be ok.  I gazed at his face and kept my hand clasped in his once strong hand trying to preserve every detail of our final moments together.

One month ago I watched as my father drew his last breath as the pastor prayed with our family.  I watched and waited already knowing that he would not draw another.  I watched, seemingly as if outside my own body, as the grieving for our loss began to unfold in that room.  The overwhelming and immediate heartache seemed to swallow every one of us in that single moment.

One month ago I watched as my dad left his home for the final time.  Covered by a homey blue quilt and looking to be in a peaceful sleep, we each took turns saying another good-bye.  As he was wheeled from the house the awful realization of what was happening brought increasing heartache.

One month ago today I shared in the task of calling those closest to us, our family and friends to let them know about dad.  There was no easy way to share the news about dad but it had to be done.   Some were shocked, many were surprised, but ALL were saddened to hear of his ‘passing’.        

Today marks one month since my dad died.  Attempts to soften the word with phrases like ‘passed away’ do nothing to lessen the hurt and pain that comes with the word.  That is because one month ago when our lives were forever changed by a single moment and our realities will never be the same.

 It’s only been a month.  The hurt is still so raw and real.  Some days it seems like it was only yesterday that we were keeping vigil by his side.  Perhaps that is because I can so vividly recall the details of that day.  Other days it seems like longer.  I think that may be because I feel like I lost dad twice.  I lost my strong, healthy and clear-minded dad months ago.

Time will heal…this I have been told.  It’s only been a month.  The pain hasn’t lessened… I think I am going to need a lot of time for a lot of healing.

God has my dad in heaven but I have him in my heart…..

I love you dad!

Moment to moment.....

Grief you are neither my friend nor foe,
Just a necessary path I travel on the way to letting go.

Letting go of the fear, the heartache and the unbearable pain,
To face the fact that my life has been forever changed.

Time, faith and love are the only things that can serve to heal,
To mend the brokenness and hurt that are still so raw and real.

Hearing that he is in a better place does little to ease the ache
Though it's true, from that some comfort I should take.


Moment to moment is how I travel your path today,
Never knowing what may be coming my way.

Overwhelming sadness, heartache or tears....
Prayers or encouragement of loved ones near.

So grief you will likely follow me for some time
Until the missing piece of my heart I somehow find.

~Julie



When your world crumbles and shatters into pieces around you it makes it time to keep up with time or days.  Everything for me is now measured in moments.  With the exception that it was three weeks ago today that he took his final breath, two weeks from last Friday that we laid dad to rest.  Last Thursday was what should have been his 73rd birthday.  I am afraid  I will now forever mark time by his date of death. 

The year of the 'Firsts' are the hardest, or so I have been told.
We spent our first Thankgiving without him...It was obviously not a time for celebration for our family this year.  We visited his grave on his 'first' birthday away from us.  We now have Christmas peering around the corner.  I'm not certain how to navigate the rest of this holiday season.  The music, the movies, the general atmosphere has not stirred me this year.  Decorating the tree...that stood unfluffed and undecorated for over a week in my living room is a testament to that.  I'm not saying that I could be confused as the Grinch right now but it wouldn't be a far leap.

As I dare to edge back into some semblance of normal routine with home and work life I have tried hard to keep my emotions in check and find balance within my day.  Admittedly there have been some very near brushes with a breakdown that easily would be equal to a Steal Magnolia moment.  People mean well and I understand that, however, it is neither reassuring or comforting to be repeatedly told that dad is no longer suffering or is in a better place.  Of course he is.  I told that to myself repeatedly the first few days after his death.  My head knows that...my heart?  Not so much.  I am selfish, I am spoiled and I would rather be here with me...now and forever.  See now the reason for the movie reference?
I can so easily identify with the emotion as probably anyone can that has experienced the loss of a loved one. 

This blog may not reflect it, but I am truly trying to find some peace and at least find some contentment in the season.  Daily, I try to realize the many blessings I have surrounding me and be thankful for each of them. 

I would love to be able to mold some of the sadness into gladness.  To that end I have decided that each year on dad's birthday I will make it my goal to do something in remembrance of him...something positive, a good deed or gesture, big or small, it will be done in honor of him. 

Missing you on your birthday and every day dad....

The End of One Journey…. The Beginning of Another

This was not the outcome we had so deeply hoped and prayed for throughout the past year.  We were supposed to have more time together, we were supposed to celebrate the holidays, we were supposed to have more time to share our love and make more memories.

Sadly, our journey ended on Monday, November 19^th at 10:15 as dad departed his earthly home and entered our Lord’s presence.  That day will be eternally etched in my memory.  My heart was broken that morning as a piece of it went with my dad….only to be completed when we meet once again in heaven.   It was indeed a bittersweet moment we experienced that morning to be with him as his suffering ended.  I had hoped for a final moment of clarity that would allow us recognition that he heard our final good-byes but that was not to be.  Instead I take some comfort in the fact that my dad was surrounded and held by all of his ‘girls’ as he drew his last breath as the pastor prayed.  There is no doubt in my mind that he knew he was loved beyond measure by his family. 

We were overwhelmed with the outpouring of love, prayers, food, and flowers as people received news of his passing.  Dad would have been honored to know that he was loved by so many as was evidenced in the number of friends and family from near and far that attended his service.  I was touched by each and every person who came to show their love and respect for him as well as our family.  Despite best efforts I wasn’t able to spend as much time with everyone as I would have liked but I cherished the time I had with everyone and the memories that were shared with me of my dad.  It was another bittersweet day…. Gorgeous day with family and friends, but brought together by the saddest of circumstances.

Now our new journey begins….the journey of continuing on with our lives without our beloved father, husband and grandfather.  We will begin a new walk of faith---waiting and believing that we will be reunited with him some day.  In the meantime we will move through these next days much the same as we have the past year taking one day at a time, cherishing each day and praying for each other.  Only time will help to lessen the great sorrow we feel.  The very memories that bring happiness are also the ones that will bring sadness and tears…his empty chair next to mine at Sunday dinners, the phone calls at work just to say hello or needing tech support and perhaps most of all coming through the back gate and not finding him sitting on his beloved patio.  I would like to think that he has his own personal patio in Heaven where he can sit and enjoy the view and continue to watch over us as we journey on.

Meanwhile I am ever so grateful for the love and support of family and friends which traveled with us on this journey and continues on to this day. 

Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.   ~Anthony Brandt



My dad, my hero...I'll always love you!



Bringing Daddy Home… (by Julie & Amy)

If you are a follower of our blogs, you know that we had some decisions to make this week. Those decisions have been made and we are bringing Dad home from Rehab.  We will be caring for him at home with the assistance of Hospice.  We feel strongly that being at home is what will be best not only for Dad but for all of us as a family.  Home is where we have done our living, celebrating holidays and good times and home is where our hearts lie. 

As we sat as a family and listened to the Hospice nurse share information and answer questions it became quite clear to her that while we were choosing Hospice we were not choosing to give up HOPE.   Hope has been at the center of this battle from day one.  It seems that Aaron Shust’s “My Hope Is In You” was on the radio a lot during those early weeks and we both clung to lyrics. He is our refuge.  He gives us HOPE.  Take the “sic” out of Hospice and you get Hope.  How cool is that?  

The timing of dad’s homecoming is especially appropriate and gives us yet another reason to be thankful this Thanksgiving holiday.

We are blessed by the friends and family that have provided support throughout our journey.    A verse that has appeared in a previous blog is fitting for today…”Rejoice in hope, endure in suffering, and persist in prayer.” Romans 12:12 

So while we move forward, please continue your prayers and rejoice with us in hope!

                                                               Thanksgiving 2011

Decision 2012...not talking politics here...

It’s been a year filled with decisions, and I’m not referring to the recent Presidential election.  If you thought this post was going to be about politics sorry to disappoint.    I’ve had pretty much zero interest this year.  Sorry, sad maybe but it's true.

So let’s start with a vocabulary lesson from the infamous Webster’s shall we?

Decision – The act of deciding; a judgment or conclusion reached by deciding.

Decide – To settle; to determine, as a controversy or contest, to determine the conclusion or issue of; to make up one’s mind.

Some decisions are made so quickly and easily that we have to give very little thought to the question at hand.  Some decisions are no brainers…pardon the pun.  Example: ’would you like fries with that?’  Other decisions can pose more of a challenge….What to wear?  What classes to take? Where to go on vacation?    Then there are those difficult ones...the more thought provoking and consequential decisions…the life-changing ones.

Our family was encouraged to consider making one of these decisions last week.   I’ve known families who have had to make this kind of decision.  I would never wish for anyone to have to consider making this decision.  This is a heavy burden to carry for family members.

Expecting it or not, hearing the words come spilling out of a doctor is very surreal.

Let me set the stage for you.  After spending the night with dad last week and going on 27 hours with no sleep, I was unpleasantly surprised by a visit from one of dad’s rehab doctors.  He introduced himself as a doctor that practices general medicine but is also certified in palliative/hospice care.  Having worked for a Home Health agency for many years I am acutely aware of the philosophy of Hospice.  It is comfort care for end of life. Needless to say his introduction did nothing to soothe my soul that early morning.  Alone with my dad, and the two aides whose impeccable timing found them finally coming to assist with bed changes, I had to force myself to focus on the words the doctor was speaking.

The conversation went something like this… ‘I think the time may be coming that you and your family may need to discuss future long term care….blah, blah, blah, it’s ok to hope for the best but to prepare for the worst….blah, blah, blah’, you will want to honor his wishes…blah, blah, blah.    All the while I am trying to watch dad from the corner of my eye to see if he is listening, hearing, comprehending any or all of this.  Maybe the timing of the aides was impeccable after all, I believe he was too distracted to hear or understand what the doctor was saying.  I will give him some credit. He seemed like a compassionate man, taking the time to listen to me and answer my questions but I would love to give him some pointers.  First, when delivering that kind of message it might be best to see if other family members might need to be available.  Second, refrain from using the quality of life vs. quantity of life more than once in your conversation.  I get it.  We get it.  We always have.  We want QUALITY. 

So it has come to this.  Of all the decisions that had to be made during the course of dad’s treatment…chemo, radiation, more chemo, stopping chemo, decisions that we all trusted the doctors when making we are now faced with making the toughest decision of all.   We are making decision to effectively care for him without ‘treatment’.   We all agree that we want him home.  Hospice or not, he belongs at home.  The changes and improvement hoped for are just not surfacing.  Time may be our only ally.  During that time, we want him home.

It is hard not to look back and let the mind rifle back through all of the crucial what if’s, if only’s, should have’s, could have’s and second guess or even try to justify the medical decisions that were made.  Would the outcomes have been the same?  Were we destined to be on this road all along?  Did we just prolong the trip?  Did we follow the wrong map?    I have found that these questions and thoughts serve no purpose now.  No matter the original intended destination we are where we are. 

So we move forward one day at a time with hope, faith and family intact.  Our love for each other and your prayers and well wishes get us through each day!

  Thank the Lord because he is good.  His love continues forever.   ~Psalm 106:1

Unhappy Anniversary

It’s almost here…November 4^th.    It’s almost been a year.  We are nowhere near where we had hoped we would be by now.  There have been highs and lows over the last 12 months.  We’ve conquered some challenges and succumbed to others.  There have been victories and celebrations but there have also been set-backs.   Why dear God do we find ourselves at this place now?  It seems this journey has taken yet another detour.  I wish it was as simple as checking a map to get our bearing and find the right directions to take.  Most days I just feel lost. 

Dad has had a major set-back.  After yet another fall he was taken to Harris ER for medical attention.  I knew in my heart that he would be admitted and he would not be coming back home that day.  His health had declined too much over the last few weeks and his refusal to eat but a few bites a day did not help the situation.  I can’t begin to explain the frustration of watching a loved one disappear before your eyes.  We have encouraged, urged, demanded, insisted, begged, bribed and cried trying to reason with him that he had to eat and even drink.  Well meaning suggestions from friends and family regarding what we could give him began to frustrate me further.  For anyone to think that we have not tried everything…and I do mean everything… to get nourishment in his body, well then you simply do not know my mother, sister or me.    And while nutrition plays a significant role in the condition he is now in it is not the only culprit. 

Admission to the hospital opened the gates for numerous tests, labs and doctors to shed some light on his case.  After learning very recently that dad had indeed suffered at least two strokes,we now also know that he has a moderate case of Encephalopothy.  Bottom line there is damage to his brain.  After a quick ‘Google’ session we see that it certainly explains some of the symptoms dad has exhibited as of late.  P.S.  I wouldn’t  recommend that people seek medical treatment/advice via Internet…it’s kind of scary actually.    Cancer, Chemo , Radiation, one or all three combined, have contributed to his plight.  The nutrition is not going to ‘fix’ it.  Time will.  Maybe. 

So in the course of a week we have watched dad withdraw even further.    

Confined to a bed without freedom to stand or walk. 

Confused about many things.

Transferred to a skilled nursing facility very close to home, allowing mom time to rest but also be at his side when needed.  This stay will hopefully rehab his body.  I wonder though, can they rehab his mind?   Can he remember that the ‘women’ who are nagging him to eat and telling him what to do all the time are the same ‘women’ who want him well and want him at home?   

At least for a moment last night I felt like he really knew me and was having a clear moment...His 'love you too babe' as I left for the night gave me a surge of hope.

Still I I fear we are on a slippery slope. 

So there is nothing happy about this upcoming anniversary. 

Cue the sad music…cut to the credits.  I want my happy ending!  I want our journey, our story to be neatly wrapped up with a big happy bow put on top.   I want our normal life back.

And as I type this I notice today’s verse on my desk calendar:

Everyone who asks will receive.  Everyone who searches will find.  Matthew 7:8

Hear me God...I'm asking....I'm searching...

Seems like we've been here before.....

I am much too familiar with this hospital.....

We are back at Harris Methodist Ft. Worth.

Dad had another fall last night/early morning.  Due to the number of falls and his current condition the Home Health nurse instructed mom to call 911 the next time he fell.  Well that time came this morning. I got the call from mom just before leaving for work.  Fortunately I made it to her house before the ambulance left and we were able to follow them to the hospital. 

Emergency Room...been here before.  Two times before.  We were assigned he same ER doctor he had 6 1/2 years ago.  I know you are wondering how I could remember  such a thing.  You are probably thinking wow Julie what a memory. Yes, it's true. I am like an elephant...in size and memory.  Anyway, I will never forget the ER trip he had 6 1/2 years ago or the cocky ER doctor who showed little concern for our situation.   Dr. C (I'll protect the guilty by not using his full name) told us then that it was very unlikely dad would be leaving the hospital alive. Well he was wrong.   I've always dreamed of waltzing dad back through ER to prove him wrong.  But I have to admit that Dr. C had a much better bedside manner this time.  He listened to us and seemed to show genuine concern and compassion. It was a far better experience with him this time.

So after many hours in the ER watching patients come and go we are thankful that he is getting the care he needs. We are fortunate.  One CT scan and many labs later he has been admitted. The scan showed no signs of stroke or bleeding in the brain.  There are however other causes for concern. While I know he doesn't like hospital stays I am ok with this one.  He will be getting some much needed hydration.  They will also be monitoring kidney function, blood sugar, nutrition, etc.  

We are now in a room...finally. In the same building as his last several hospital stays.  Same smell to the building, same layout as the previous floors, same uncomfortable chairs in the room.  On a good note he is getting the same good care.  Some things never change.

Life will never be the same though.  We will all be changed by the events of this last year.  Someone very close to me shared with today that we grow and are changed by every day that we live.  Maybe it's the wisdom that comes with each new day that prepares us to deal with the future.  It could also be past experiences that have matured us and readied us to deal with our new circumstances.

While conventional wisdom may suggest otherwise, I will not lose hope that dad will completely recover.  My faith will not be diminished by doctors predictions.  I will cherish each day and each memory.  I will love him with all the love that my heart holds. 

Today he knows me as Julie Roxann, tomorrow it may be the water girl or 'that other blonde girl', but for today he knows me.  He knows me, he knows who I am and he knows that I love him. 

Live~Laugh~Love....exactly what I intend to do!



  

Don't sweat the small stuff.....

How many times have I heard, or even used, the phrase 'Don't sweat the small stuff'?  Now in addition to not sweating the small stuff I am also trying to appreciate the little things each day brings. 

Life has changed pretty dramatically over the last few months and everyone in the family has had to adapt.  Thank goodness for great husbands and kiddos who are willing to pitch in and help when needed--often without being asked-- to keep things running smoothly!

So instead of sweating the fact that my house has not had a proper cleaning in many months,  I am appreciating that my guys are doing a better job of keeping things picked up and even doing laundry!

I'm no longer sweating the fact that my scale is yelling angry things at me when I dare to step on it these days--which happens pretty infrequently due to my fear of watching the growing number.  That number continues to grow because I am appreciating the Gourmet Jelly Beans that my sweet mama has been keeping in constant supply for my never ending craving.  I know that she is dipping into my inheritance to pay for those lovelys!  I am also appreciating the Peppermint Ice Cream that hubby stopped to get me last Saturday.  Gone by Wednesday...I really, really appreciated it!

Not sweating that I am not able to keep in touch or get together with some of my friends as often as I would like.    But I am definitely appreciating
those that have been on those journey with me.  Terri, My friend, my ride share, my sounding board who so graciously listens when I need to talk.
Julie, My sweet friend who checks in on me to ask if I need anything and even offers her husband's help.  Jamie, My co-worker turned friend, who is always a a source of encouragement at work.  Robbin, my friend at work who has traveled a similar road and offers a motherly hug and prayers.  These are just a few of the friends that have ridden out this personal storm with me.  Then there are those special moments when out of the blue someone says or does something for you that you don't expect.  This was the case last week when a friend from High School unexpectedly mailed me a sweet gift!  We have re-connected on Facebook and I now wonder what lifetime friendship I may have missed out on!  She was so thoughtful and sweet in thinking of me at this time when she has already 'worn my shoes' herself.  I am thankful for the people that God puts in our lives and now consider her one of my angels.

Life has new perspective now and I plan to stop sweating the small stuff--realizing most of it IS small stuff and make more time to truly appreciate the little things that bring joy, happiness and value to our lives.

“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.”    ~Robert Brault

What I didn't know.....

Cancer stinks...this I know.  Cancer is a tough battle...this I know. 

What I didn't know is that we would still be facing such difficult timeson this journey almost a year later. October 4th marked 11 months since we first learned of dad's  diagnosis.


What I didn't know is that we would not be able to make our annual family trip to our favorite mountaintop cabin this year.


What I didn't know is how deeply that would affect me. 

Certainly I'm sad that we are missing 'our' beloved cabin, breathtaking sunrises and sunsets and nightly campfires but what really saddens me is that not going is an admission that dad's health has not improved.  In fact it has declined steadily over the last few months. 

What I didn't know is how much it would hurt the first time he didn't know who I was.  Or how he would continue to ask about the 'girl' that was here last weekend.  Thankfully he seems to recognize me now..even if it's only for the nagging I do trying to get him to eat or drink more.

What I didn't know is the impact that this journey was having on my youngest son.  After dad fell again last week he asked me if I ever cried about grandpa.  I am pretty sure I have I have mastered the art of masking my feelings and emotions to those around me.  However, while the tears no longer come easy for me there was certainly more than one that escaped my eyes after hearing his confession that he sometime cried about it.  It's hard enough knowing what an impact this illness has had on mom, Amy and myself but I had hoped, naievely of course, that I could shield some of the hurt and worry from my kids.

What I didn't know is just how much the doctor's don't really know.  All the bloodwork, MRI's and scans in the world cannot tell us if dad will improve.  Medicine is not an exact science and I am having a hard time coming to terms with that.  What we endure now would be made so much easier if there was certainty of a full recovery looming on the horizon.  I know that when we see the oncologist this afternoon I will expect answers and information but will likely have to settle for guesstimates and statistics.

On the other hand....

What I DO know is that no matter how hard times get or how discouraging the future can seem at times that we, as a family, will continue to support each other with love, faith and encouragement.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 

Turning back time.....

Oh to be able to turn back time, to know back then what I unfortunately know now.  Hindsight is indeed 20/20!  Rather than using this blog to simply highlight our journey and provide a positive glimpse into our world, I should have been truly chronicling all that has occurred over the last year.  Thinking back I may have fooled myself into believing that while we were indeed facing a terrible ordeal we would still have the same positive outcome we did 6 years ago.  Maybe not addressing the more difficult issues we have faced was my own method of self-preservation.  Ignorance is after all bliss.  Right? And there is always the excuse that life is meant to be lived not written about.  After all there are better ways to spend one’s time and energy than to document every minor happenstance.  Who has that kind of time?  And yes, that would be the same reason that my boys have half-completed baby books.  Though I am sure life will be just fine for them even if they don’t happen to know what solid food they first ate or the date they lost their first tooth.  At least I hope so.  Yikes, more regrets.

I now find myself truly regretting not documenting more details of our journey.  So moving forward that is what I plan to do.  For those who have followed our journey via the blog you are welcome to do so.  This will be my electronic journal where I can record my personal thoughts, observations and feelings.  I will do my best to keep it inspirational but be assured it will also be sprinkled with not only the good, but the bad and the ugly. The truth can be ugly and lately there has been lots of ugly.

We have spent the better part of the last two months telling doctors that we are concerned regarding dad’s memory and weakness.  Finally there was agreement that there had been a decline but no agreement to what may be the cause.  It could be aftermath of radiation…maybe not.  It could be due to dehydration…maybe not.  Or my absolute favorite from the quack neurologist we visited, ‘Chemo and Radiation can be hard on the body’.  No kidding Sherlock.  Let me call Unsolved Mysteries to clue them in. Ugh!!  I am very capable of seeing how hard it has been on both the mind and the body thank you.  And just a tip Dr. Quack…doctors like you can be hard on the mind as well.  I found myself wanting to scream the entire way out of your office.  You didn’t tell us anything that I haven’t already seen, heard or read on Google. 

What I do know with certainty is that we are not giving up the fight.  We will not lose faith, we will not give up hope, and we face each day as it comes.  We will be there for dad when his steps falter and he needs our guidance, we will encourage him to eat and drink to regain his strength, we will remind him that he IS at home, and perhaps most importantly we will continue to support each other.  No one would ever choose to face cancer, but given the choice I would choose every time to go through it with the support of MY family.  So while I can’t turn back time, I can turn to my family and turn to my God.  HE is after all ‘Holding My World’.

Take a listen…..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJfGCKD9g_4

A tad bit selfish??

Driving to work in the dark this morning I found myself in prayer.  For me prayer has always been personal and intimate and contained within my own mind and heart.  Praying out loud has never been easy for me, and perhaps it was because I was alone in my car, but today the words flowed free and easy….though just at a whisper.  I certainly can’t have all the drivers on the highway wondering what kind of crazy person I am talking to myself, can I? 

I can’t imagine that I am the only one who sometimes feels selfish in their prayers. I mean we are told to ask and bring forward all our needs right?   Why then today did I feel like a selfish two year old who was willing to hold her breath and turn beet red in the face until I got what I wanted?   Easy….because I am selfish AND would pretty much be willing to hold my breath until I turned purple in the face if it guaranteed getting the answer I wanted! 

You see my daily my prayer requests always include the health and safety of my family, requests  for daily  guidance and other special prayer requests.  As you might imagine my fervent prayer over the last several months is for my dad to be healed of cancer---complete healing.  The cancer treatment may have helped eradicate the cancer—or maybe not—that would depend on the radiologist reading the scans but that’s another story.  The aftermath of the treatment has left my dad weak and confused.  We have sought answers, remedies and help from the doctors but they have failed to give us any solid solutions.  I know that my dad’s complete healing is not in the hand of any doctor or specialist but solely in God’s hands. 

What I would give to just be able to ‘will’ his healing to happen.  Stubborn is a trait that runs pretty deep in our family…we are blessed to have it from both sides.  Though mom would tell you it was a Carothers trait and dad would say we get it from the Whorton side.  Either way, we are all stubborn as mules and if it was only a matter of sheer will and stubbornness dad would have this thing licked!

Now here is a glimpse into the really selfish part of me.  We have our annual Mt. Nebo trip coming up in two weeks. Truly one of my most favorite places on earth!  We have our favorite big cabin booked where we can sit on the deck and enjoy the cool fresh mountain air and watch the most amazing sunsets!   This year our visit may not be a reality based on dad’s current condition. I want with all my heart for dad to be well enough to go back to Arkansas, to be close to his home and to be able to see his family.   I want us as a FAMILY to enjoy another trip and make more memories. 

Our family has been making this trip for years and truth be told I am not ready to give up on this tradition.  See…selfish right?   To not go though would be acknowledging that things are changing and that they may not ever be the same again.  I’m not ready for that.  Again with the selfishness.

 So my selfish prayers this morning…please bring quick healing to my dad so that he WILL be able to make this trip, not only make it, but make it comfortably without pain or illness and most of all to find enjoyment and happiness while there.   So since we are told to ask, I am asking.  I am asking all day every day.    

'Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives, the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.'   Mathew 7:7-8

 If anyone reading this would like to add my prayer request to their prayers please know that I would not be opposed.  I would love to be able to post new Mt. Nebo pics on a future blog!   Until then....here is a pic with my wonderful parents from a previous trip!