Wednesday, December 31, 2008

A New Beginning

There are so many wonderful things about the dawning of a new year, the chance to gain a fresh start, make plans, dream big, set goals, plan to do things differently and better...the list goes on. I don't make any resolutions any longer, most of them never came to fruition anyway, so I just take it as it comes, and live the day the Lord has made for me. As the new year approaches, now there is new significance. I wish it were not so, but the first week of the new year was the last week of Allison's 21 years. January first was our last day of innocence when it came to cancer, but not our last day of hope and miracles. We lost our innocence the morning of the 2nd when her doctor shared that her body would not respond to treatments of any kind, any longer. We spent that day absorbing the shock, the news, the revelation that cancer was taking over and moving fast. I think I am still absorbing that shock, and try as I might, the moments beginning December 30, when she entered the hospital for what became the final time, are being replayed in my head. I want to turn down the volume, the intensity, the raging sorrow, and I want to capture that beautiful moment on January 9, at 7:00 a.m., when the multi colored sunbeams entered the room, and Allison Haake took her final breath. What joy we felt that she was at peace and that God above had answered the prayers that were cried out all night long...we knew at that infinite moment that God heard us and took her home. This comfort is our saving grace, but it doesn't take away the pain and suffering of loss and grief. When all these moments come hurling at me, in my memory, I just pray to God that He will get me through this moment, to the next one, and help me to remember that where she is, she has no recollection of the pain and suffering, that God gave her the greatest gift by making her so special that He brought her through and gave her the miracle she so longed for...the gift of eternal life in His kingdom. There is no reason for me to dwell on the painful memories, the times where news was not what we hoped or planned for, there is no reason to replay the details that have yet to be shared, that are so deeply personal that only Joe, Jennifer, and I share them with a heavenly father. Still, I cannot stop my inner self at times, my mind from going there. I resist it, I don't want to replay those days and minutes, yet I do. For when I do, I remember the spirit and determination and faith of a young lady who spent the day on January 2nd, sequestered with just her family, adjusting to the news, then announcing that we were done crying and that we would rise above this. Then she prepared herself to live in sweet eternity, leaving us the spirit to live for ourselves, for her, for each other, and for God.

As my emotions rage in many ways, and I anticipate a New Year's Eve with dear friends and my sister and Michael, and of course, Joe, I will recall the last one she spent, encouraging her sister to go out and do what would be "normal", and then ordering pizza with a room filled with friends in the hospital, toasting one another, laughing, coloring pictures, having a party like no other. Nine days later, there she was, finished with her work in this life, preparing to teach us all the lessons that never stop, always flow, and will be with us in every breath we take as a family, willing and ready to leave her earthly body for her heavenly home. Yes, these days are grueling, my heart is broken, yet the joy of God above and all His infinite wisdom settles me a bit, and gives the promise of light and love.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Memories make the best gifts...

Some postings of special moments that have now become treasures, Christmas past and final days of Allison's life on earth, with us. Her light, love, strength, dignity, faith and spirit has guided us through another milestone, a Christmas with its own new memories, made this year in 2008. One would never know just how difficult it can be to try to put the puzzle of life back together, or rearrange it, once there is a definite missing piece, but we do, and we will, for her sake and for all of our sakes. Merry Christmas to our daughter, sister, niece, granddaughter, friend, how we miss your physical presence, but how grateful we are that God guided you safely home.

Love,
Your Mom

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Peace, Joy and Love...and Believe

These words are indicative of the season...peace, joy and love. The Christmas cards all contain them and we all wish for them, if only for one day. Each word connotates a different emotion or feeling or memory and that in itself can bring us a bit of comfort. So, all the preparations and plans and cooking and gift buying brings us to one day out of the year where the world does seem still for a bit, starting in the evening of Christmas Eve. The solitude and lack of traffic and closed stores always made me feel a bit peaceful, I knew it was coming, Christmas morning and a day to just BE with family or friends. The day where there would be no conflicts, no pressures, no anxiety, no worries, really. We can all just take that 24 hours, the gift God gave us to celebrate the birth of His son, to do whatever comes naturally and feels good. Everyone does things differently, but to all Christians, it means the same, and some years we reflect more than others on its significance. Our girls certainly grew up knowing the true meaning of Christmas, but they also were indulged by Santa and presents from grandparents, aunts and uncles. Early years were lean, but they didn't know it, and some years were plentiful, if not "over the top". It didn't matter, the pure and simple joy, for one day was enough to make us smile, knowing they appreciated the gifts, and enjoyed them. Then the new toys or games would come out and the day and days that followed were spent engaged as a family. There were plenty of arguments over the game, Sorry, but never on Christmas Day. How does the world know to be peaceful and loving on Christmas Day?!! God prevails and shows us the way. We all know that it doesn't have to be Christmas Day to find that peace, that joy, that love, those who choose and understand that God is here in all times, in all days, well, that peace can never be taken away. It is a beautiful gift and I am grateful to know it and open it every day.

A conversation with my sister-in-law prompted me thinking, some time back, just how blessed I was to know God, how our whole family was, to know Him, when Allison was diagnosed. I believe that the whole situation would have evolved differently, and no day would be peaceful if we had not previously known a loving and merciful God. From the moment we heard the word, cancer, it was clear to us that God would be our guide, that we would find our peace and our answers in Him. Allison carried a pamphlet, God's Medicine, with her into treatments and prayed for doctors and nurses caring for her. She found a scripture to cling to that brought her the most comfort and she memorized it so that when her radiation mask was placed, she had no fear. She felt peace, joy and love. She, and we, never lost sight of God's hand in this. No, not that He gave her the cancer, but He was going to cure her, one way or the other. And cure her, he did...not in the way we thought or planned, but haven't we all learned that life isn't about OUR plan. Sure, there were times when I would have bargained, screamed, begged Him to do things differently, but through it all, once we gave this to His doing, peace and joy and love shined through. You could see it in the joy of our "last" Christmas, when the angelic glow began to permeate Allison, when we had the most amazing Christmas Eve and Day, filled with the most intimate and loving moments a family could have, playing that Uno Attack, or eating a whole pan of appetizers, and having champaigne and orange juice with my famous breakfast. The most important thing was, God gave us that last Christmas, free of worry, pain, anxiety or stress. For that one whole day, there was no cancer in our lives, no need to worry, God had it all under control. And now we have the pure and simple understanding that God takes care of it all, as if we didn't know it before. He has used our Allison to show us the light. Yes, I am glad I knew Him before and that I will always know and honor Him in my life, He is ever present, and as much as I long for Allison's physical presence, I know there is no more wondrous place for her to be...we will find that peace, joy and love in all that we do because we dared to first believe.

Friday, December 19, 2008

This Time of Year

I still wonder if the intensity of grief is all about the holidays or if it has mainly to do with the last days and weeks that Allison was home with us. The days mesh, and it is almost difficult to determine how and why the grief can come raging as it does, how the loss can bring tears in the night, how the body releases whether you want it to or not, and how it attacks when you least expect it. I see Allison in the faces of shoppers and in the items in the store. My knees go weak when I pass a Victoria Secret, thinking I need to duck in and get that pair of "pink" sweatpants. My insides scream when I walk through Kohl's and notice all the hooded jackets that she should have for cold Chicago weather. And seeing all the young woman in their beige boots, with tattered jeans and headbands, well, they could never know how my throat closes and I want to run out of the store. Last year I couldn't step into a mall for holiday shopping, this year I have made several stops. The gift of retirement is that I can go at odd hours, when there are very few folks indeed. So, I do just that, and I can go on my own terms. I set out with a specific plan, but on many attempts have just left the mall suddenly, with plans to set out another time. I am blessed to be my own barometer of what I can and cannot do...but still, she is everywhere, and that can be wonderful. It can also take me to the depths of despair and realization and can be that step closer to acceptance, accepting that she is never coming through the door, her smile will not light up my life, ever again, at least not in the same way. As I share with others, I never knew you could go from almost near euphoria to despair, and all emotions in between, in a matter of seconds. I never knew a lot of things until this path became my course of life.

There are times I feel as though I am the only one struggling with a loss because it can become all consuming. In the confines of my mind, I know that is not true...however, it just seems that way. That is unless I work at realizing and understanding there is a world outside of me, outside of my family, outside of my home. It is almost like a full-time job just to remove myself from my own deep sadness and know and listen about others and what they face. I have always said that everyone has a story and they do, and more and more, those stories are revealed to me. Perhaps they are revealed so I can, once again, be reminded that in this devastation, so much beauty and good has come from it, that we have a daughter who left us a brilliant legacy to carry on and live for her. I am convinced that she would not want those she left behind to carry the burdens so deeply that we cannot move or function. Her life and spirit in itself is enough to help us get up each day and smile and listen and care. And while it may be "easy" for me to say, I know that there is a solution to every problem and that we can find our way through whatever loss we face. That may not sound palatable to those who are losing their homes, their financial security, their marriages, their lives to whatever cause. I guess if God had given me a choice of what or who to lose, I would have taken other options over my child. But the choice was not ours to make, just like those who are losing part of themselves every day. What we did get to do was make a choice on how to respond and heal and find our way through the fog. That brings to mind a book that was instrumental in helping me find my way, and believe me, I am still working on that, but the book title, "Surviving The Losses of Your Life", by H. Norman Wright, talks about all the losses we face, ones we recognize and ones we don't. He lends varying types of assistance and while he bases much of it on scripture, he truly gives insight to the fact that we are all "losing" something or someone every day. In these times where loss is prevailing and we all can't answer the phone without hearing one more bit of bad news about someone we care about or love, it is reassuring to know that we will make it, somehow, but surely only by the grace of God. I love it that I can surrender all my burdens and pain and sorrow and heartache to Him, and that He takes it all, and promises hope when we choose to believe. Yes, I read every book I can that will help, I find my daily devotionals and affirmations help me breathe through the moment and get to the next one, and I truly understand that today is all we are promised. It can look as bleak as the weather so far this winter, but in the next minute, the streams of light filter through, and I know God is helping hold me up, for these times, these "last" days that bring memories that I would rather just put on hold, these times will pass and brighter moments will come, laughter will fill the house and hope is the promise, for as long as we have life, there is hope and there is a solution. This day, I long to just hold the hand of my beloved Allison, to sit by her bed and bring her favorite breakfast, and I thank God I savored the moments I did have, and as intensely painful as they are, I thank Him for the sweet memories.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Siblings

Ever since I posted the photo of the sisters, Jennifer and Allison, I have thought about the whole matter of siblings and how they get through a loss such as this. I have discovered that often, the siblings are the forgotten or unsung heroes when it comes to losing a loved one. You find there are many support groups for parents, or children, or spouses, but often, the siblings are the one who are left to sort it out and find their own way. As a parent, I have known nothing more intense than losing a child to cancer, and I cannot imagine a plight more devastating than being a grieving mother or father. I saw it in the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. John Walsh, when interviewed this morning on the Today Show, I saw the pain, the grief, the loss, and after 27 years, the tears were still ready to be shed. This journey, while unique as the type of death, is one that is understood to the core once you have travelled the road of knowing and living with such a loss. Also, to their credit, the Walsh parents gave amazing tribute to the three children they had after Adam was murdered. Their mother took such pride in the interview in pointing out the dignity and strength of those children, who never knew their brother, but who feels his spirit in the family unit. She made note of the fact that they never complained and they never wanted it to be about something other than what it was, seeking answers and making Adam proud...and all of us who know the case understand what the Walsh parents have done for lost children all across this country. Adam did not die in vain and these parents made sure of it.

But back to the siblings...and one particular sibling, Jennifer. If I could, I would take this walk away, this pain, this unforeseen journey, just as I would have gladly taken cancer from Allison. But I can do neither and I can't make her journey about me or her father or anyone else. She is the one who lost her only sibling, who lives on and marches to a different beat, forever changed, and she is the one who will find her way. Surely, as her parents Joe and I will be there to support and help in any humanly possible way, but it doesn't take away that she is a sister who had to let her best friend go, and in fact, she helped Allison move to eternal life in such a beautiful, dignified way. I say Jennifer is grieving graciously and that a part of Allison's spirit infiltrated her the moment her soul left her body on that January morning. Jennifer has the strength, determination and fortitude to honor her sister in every act and she carries her with her through all sorts of daily trials. She is going to find her own way through this, and has a good start on it. No mother could be more proud of the woman she is becoming, how she handles what has been dealt to her, and the grace she accepts from God. There are times when we know it is all too surreal, even now, almost 24 months into a lifetime of losing a child, a sister, and that we have mountains to climb. But we also know what faith is and how it helps you breathe, move and navigate.

The incredible, heroic story does belong to Jennifer, who not only lives for herself, but lives to make her sister proud. She is our hero and our earth angel, full of spunk and the desire to live. Siblings can often be forgotten, but we will not allow that to happen. Everyday I know how blessed I am to be able to say, yes, I have two daughters, one is guiding from heaven, and the other is here with us, finding her own way, becoming her own person, influenced, but not defined, by this loss.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Christmas Memories

So many thoughts and emotions scurry through our souls at this time of year, the hustle and the bustle of preparations and plans. The anticipation and the thrill of it all keeps us going toward that moment, Christmas Day, when families blend and traditions hold us together. Then there are the memories that come flooding in and often, when we gather, we remember when, we talk of Christmas' long ago, when the girls were babies, and toddlers, then pre-teens, when the annual shopping with Aunt Kathy took place, when the cousins visited, when the grandparents on both sides were sitting in the room, each beaming as the girls and boys opened their own gift, when Grandpa would hold the bow bag, or the times Allison and Jennifer would put on a Christmas skit, when Allison would play The Little Drummer Boy over and over and over again, when we would all gather at church for the plays and the services, when we opened that one special gift on Christmas Eve, when the girls would sleep together, even as grown young women, in anticipation of the early morning openings, with the stockings being the thrill of the day. Indeed, the memories never end, in fact, they become a valued, irreplaceable treasure. It seems even more so now that one of us is gone, Allison is not here in the physical sense, and that is more painful than any of us could imagine. We don't want to imagine or think about it, until it happens, and we are forced to do so...we are compelled to look at it all differently, yet embrace the memories as they are, and now, those are what we cling to, lovingly and carefully, as if they could shatter if we forget. But we won't forget, and I have come to realize that through all the memories comes the common thread of love. We don't think of how tired we were from the shopping or late nights or years when things were lean and we wondered how we would provide. We don't recall or remember the sad times for too long, rather, we carry in our hearts the pure and simple feeling of love. Christmas IS love and it is reflected in the photographs, such as the one that I am posting today. Christmas is a happy time and even as we have learned and embraced the true Christmas story over the years, and know that Jesus has always been the reason for the season, it is a day when all is right with the world and we stop and just be with the ones we love, and who love us.

As I hold tight to the memories of love and light and hope, it is not the gift in the box or bag that I can clearly define or describe. Yes, there have been those moments when a special gift does stand out and I don't forget that moment, but that gift, and all the memories are just symbols for the love in our hearts. That love sustains me as I look to a Christmas morning without the physical presence of Allison, without the girls spending one more Christmas Eve together, sleeping with Barkley in anticipation of a wonderful day, it holds me together when I make the favorite family cookies or egg casserole breakfast, and when it is all said and done, and the wrapping lies on the floor, and the presents are put away, I know for sure that the love of Allison and each other will permeate us all, will bring us together, will get us through the moments of pain and loss, when she will not walk through that door, that love will prevail and she will never be gone from our hearts. With every beat of my own heart, I feel her and know her and remember her, and she lives on, differently, and even more profoundly than ever before. Thankfully, she will always be part of our memories and our present and our future on Christmas Day, and every day.

Friday, December 12, 2008

This Is The Day

I didn't exactly know what to name this blog when I began, but I rather like the name and the purpose. Writing brings me peace and when my fingers fly across the key, I feel as though I can express what roars within, maybe not always as eloquently as I would like, but nevertheless, for some reason it is theraputic, and that is good. I still find myself repeating the scripture that started this whole process, when times were, and are, tough, I repeat once, twice, as many times as necessary, "this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it". I find my way to get to the next moment with the strength of a loving, promising God.

Well, this is the day...this is the day that marked my father's birthday. He is heavy on my heart, as I wrote about yesterday, and today, though maybe not doing it justice, I want to tell a story about my father, one I learned AFTER he was gone, and in an unlikely place, years removed and miles away.

I was a school principal, doing my best to secure funding for a camping trip for our 5th graders. Prior to my arrival in this school, the DARE officer had found local resources to fund the trip, but business budgets were declining and there seemed to be very little support. I stopped off at the local Parking Spot Garage one evening to see if a face-to-face meeting would help. In doing so, I met a very nice lady who referred me to the new manager. I was to contact him the next day and when I did so, he explained just how his new boss was not inclined to make this happen, after all, budgets were cut and politics were involved (naturally, I won't get into that part of the story). It seemed a dead end. We continued chatting for a minute as I made my appeal about our "city" kids not having real-life opportunities and that this is perhaps the ONLY experience like this that some would have...the new manager agreed to stop by my office later that day, just to see the school and see if there was another type of support he could lend. He did as promised, and as we visited in my office, we laughed about camping, he asked me if the principal attends, and I said, NO, the Assistant Principal LOVES to camp (and that was true!). I shared that my camping experiences were limited and that even as I was Jennifer's Girl Scout troop leader, we earned our badge by "camping" at the Holiday Inn in Hannibal after visiting Mark Twain land! He laughed and then we led to where we grew up...and lo, and behold, both of us grew up in Vandalia, Missouri, a very small town where everyone knows your name! I had sensed he seemed familiar all along, but there was no reason to believe that I knew him. So, we, of course, reminisced, and spoke of our families and siblings. Me, being a bit older than him, well, we had never really crossed paths. There was another reason, he was a black man, and in our day, in this small town, I cannot believe it, but the "colored people" lived on their own side of town. One thing led to another and he spoke of his relatives and a particular aunt of his and I began to see how this story was going to unravel. You see, my brother had been hit by a car when he was 5 years old, by a black woman travelling down the main street of town. David was thrown by this car as he got off the school bus, and landed many feet away, maybe even almost a town block. It was a devastating time for our family as we didn't know whether David would make it through, but I remember my Dad's rendition, or do I remember the actual event...there was concern that if David lost his life, what would happen, and I remember vividly my father saying, "I will do what I need to do, I have two other children who need me"....(and some wonder how our family gets its strength...what a legacy). At any rate, the town was in an uproar, encouraging my father to sue this woman, to get revenge, it was very ugly. But my father remained stoic and did the right thing, always stating that she didn't set out to do harm, that it was a true accident and that she most likely had her own demons about what had happened, and that he didn't need to add more.

As the story goes, I was sitting in that school office, talking with the manager and we discovered that the lady was his aunt, and he knew my father. His "kinfolks" adored my father, and were ever grateful to him for supporting the woman who had nearly run over his son. And support her he did, he gave her a job at the local factory that he managed, AND I found out from Brian, he went to that part of town, in his big yellow buick, every Friday night with groceries and clothes from the factory for those in need. Of course, I never knew, there was no need to, for my father was the silent giver. He never wanted recognition, he just did the right thing.

Brian left my office and HE did the right thing, our students received $4500.00 in money orders so they could each go to camp. I don't know how Brian found the money, but he did, and he paid it forward, as they say.

Thank you, Dad, and Happy Birthday, as we continue to get through trying times with your legacy in place and the desire to help others at all times, when we can and how we can. I know you and Mom and Allison have found your way to keep sprinkling the magic. Love, Kathy

Thursday, December 11, 2008

A Dad's Birthday

I woke up with the strongest sense and presence of my father, and in my groggy state, couldn't figure out where it was coming from. You know that state of mind when you have to put all the pieces of reality in place, because for that moment in time, you are someplace else, maybe in a memory, maybe in a dream, maybe in a spiritual visit, nonetheless, it takes a minute to come to the present. Often, that altered state is pleasant and happy, even euphoric, but then it is lost, and the reality of life as we know it is upon us. I have learned, through loss, and life's lessons, that the euphoric state doesn't need to be lost, we can hold on tight to the love and feelings, even while dealing with the reality. This morning, I had a beautiful sense of a party, a big cookie cake, smiling daughters as they presented the gifts, and I was feeling quite good, still fuzzy, and altered, but good. Well, of course, it was a distinct memory of a happy birthday for my father, and then I realized just why this was significant. His birthday is tomorrow, 12/12, as he would say! He also shared his birthday with Frank Sinatra, which was truly meaningful in some ways, to him, at least I think so, because he always reminded me of that fact. Well, once the dream and memory faded a bit, I was brought to the reality that Dad is not here, he has been gone for 6 years and would be 78 years old tomorrow. He was not intended to be with us this long, he had lived long enough according to him, and to be honest, he was never the same in the eight years he lived without my mother. His death didn't take the same course for those left behind as it did when our mother passed away, or certainly since our daughter. That is not to say that grieving didn't exist, for each of us, it truly does, but we understood, in new ways, just how God works His magic. We also know that God taught us lessons through the experience of Dad's cancer diagnosis, his own 11 weeks from diagnosis to death, what it means for a family to come together as their last parent leaves this earth, leaving the children to find their way in a new phase of adulthood. There was not a man who loved his children and grandchildren more and to think that right now he is reunited with one of them, well, that cannot cause him the pain it would have had he been alive to know it. He surely knows, in the spiritual realm, that a glorious reunion took place and we will all have that moment, as promised to those of us who accept the gift of salvation. That is my hope this morning, as the dream faded, and for a minute, I felt very sad and disoriented...I miss him at all times, and I can honestly say how deeply I wish he could have been here through my own loss, but that is selfish. It was not meant to be, it was destined that he was there, waiting to embrace his grandaughter, and leave the lessons for the other grandchildren, the legacy, the mark, the imprint of poise, dignity, empathy, love and care. And, tomorrow, on his birthday, maybe I can share a story or two of this man and how I came to find out more about him, long after he was gone.

I feel blessed that I can smile sweetly when I think of my father and his birthday, that I have moved through and past the pain of cancer, the grueling last weeks where we tended to him at home, where we fed him through a feeding tube, where we monitored medicines and sat by his bedside, where my sister held his hand and listened to his stories or when my brother watched the beloved Patriots team, all in the little room that became his haven, the room with the big window, where he could watch the reruns of his life, and know that he had lived the life chosen for him. Now I can remember the man who watched from the sidelines, who gave to all he could, who had a special look in his eye for his grandsons and granddaughters, who understood life, and taught me to never sweat the small stuff, that any problem has a solution. Little did I know how much I could learn from the actions, not the words, of one man. Happy Birthday to my dad, with love, Kathy

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Compassionate Friends

This time I am not writing of the many lifelines of friends, but the organization, Compassionate Friends, a support network for grieving families and a special, upcoming world-wide candle vigil, this Sunday night, December 14, at 7:00 in your local area. Please join me, if you are able, by lighting your own candle for all those who have lost a child of any age, under any circumstance, in simple remembrance. While I have not been able to attend a Compassionate Friends meeting, I have most definitely taken advantage of their resources and website from time to time. In fact, I may consider beginning a small chapter in our area as there are no local groups. I discovered that if three or more families are willing to be represented, and the leader is at least 18 months into a deep loss of a child, then a chapter can be formed. This may be a calling of sorts, for I embrace their mission of hope, care and recognition of each person's private journey with grieving a child.

I recall when Allison first passed away, many folks sent pamphlets or suggestions of what might work for us. They were most helpful, but when you find yourself in shock, you really do not know where to turn or how to begin. I'm sure some parents do attend support groups right away, for them, perhaps there is a comfort and a need. We didn't choose that option, and still do not, although, we find other ways to face and "handle" the grief. I have always believed it needs to be handled before it handles us...and it most definitely will. However, I never rule anything or any suggestion out, for I don't know what I will need or desire around the bend of this journey. Hence, the possibility of beginning a new phase as a leader of a small group. A group that is growing and growing, sadly enough. I really do not know if I knew more than a handful of parents, personally, who had lost a child when we faced our own loss. Now I find that number growing and I know reaching out to those mothers and fathers is part of my purpose in this devastation.

We will all encounter someone who loses a loved one, a child, in our future. We will learn how to help, respond, assist, comfort and be there when the months tick away and the journey becomes more intense and painful. We will know because Allison taught us.

So, as we light our candles on Sunday night, and remember all those children, and say a silent prayer or participate in one of the hundreds of Compassionate Friends vigils in the world, we bring hope to one another, and the knowledge that our children will never be forgotten.

Feel free to refer anyone to www.compassionatefriends.net, for more information.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Getting Things In Order

A dear friend of mine, who has been through more than any one person should endure, compiled by losses that are unimaginable and surreal, called me a few weeks ago with some news. Her sister had just been diagnosed with small cell lung cancer, the news was fresh and raw and her sobs were gut wrenching. She didn't want to call me, but she knew that I "knew" things about this type of cancer, after all, Allison's journey had taught me, once again, about cancers and treatments and quality of life. As Barb and I chatted, cried, and sorted out some of the information, she made a comment, that her sister just hopes to live long enough to get her things in order. It seems that her sister had somewhat accepted this diagnosis, at least initially, and knew that this type of cancer is the fastest growing, most often, fatal cancer to have...so again, her hope was to get "her things in order". I thought of that a lot over the course of the last few weeks, wondering how that is going for her. I check in with Barb from time to time to find that her sister is still with us, sought a second opinion, and is waiting to confirm an exact diagnosis...a road well known and travelled by our own family, as well. The unknown is prevalent and frightening, but she continues to get her things in order.

Naturally, I have thought of what that exactly means...get our things in order. Does this mean making sure the life insurance policies are paid up, the bank statements are balanced, the will is defined and clear and established? Does it mean sorting out what you want others to have of yours and organizing one's closet? Does it mean seeing and visiting all of those who are near and dear so that things that should be said, are?! It must mean something different to each of us and if we knew we had a certain amount of time to get our things in order, how might we live this day? This has been a concept that I have thought of often, after losing my parents, but especially, my daughter. I have thought, often, what if that had been me? What if it is me tomorrow? I don't look at this as morbid, I look at this as reality. I do desperately try to look at this as my opportunity to seize this day. Sometimes I fall short, I fall backward or waste the moments, but then I remember her legacy. So, naturally, since Allison left before us, I have thought of what I should do to be ready. My quest has been mostly spiritual because in spite of how clean I leave the house and my affairs, there will be a mess at some point! I have used Allison's level of readiness to guide my own compass, and I know it is truly the word of God that is going to prepare me. Her own confirmation scripture, John 3:16-17, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." There are so many more to quote, but the point being, I believe God wants us to be ready, prepared, live for Him, and get our things in order for Him.

A very poignant moment came in our journey with Allison, a speck in time when she turned to me and asked me if she was going to die. I cannot describe the moment, now a memory, and how incredible it was, yes, emotional and heartbreaking, yet, an intimate moment between mother and child. And, I remember my response, yes, Allison, we are all going to die, and we all need to be ready. She smiled, I smiled and I knew I spoke the truth. Could I tell her when and how and what it would be like? No, all I could say was yes, we are all going to leave this earth, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next year, maybe in 20 years, so whenever that is, I know I want to be ready, I want my "things in order". I am not promised any more time, so there is no time like the present to get started.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Christmas Things

I never knew that each and every Christmas item to be placed in its "traditional" spot could evoke such a landslide of emotion. I never knew that each song and carol in the stores and in the car, could stop me completely from making a move. I never knew that creating the standard array of Christmas cookies could move me to tears, tears that feel as though they could shed for days. I didn't know the mere touch of a handmade ornament would take me places that are both joyous and sad at the very same time. I didn't know a heart could take this much. I didn't know until she was gone.

I guess there are some things that must be experienced rather than told, and grief, mixed with the holidays, mixed with her final weeks on earth, make for a wave that can knock you down and keep you breathless. I know this to be true because I feel like I am holding my breath, and have been, for weeks. I do this because I know what is coming. I don't invite it, I don't ask for it, I don't even want it, but it comes anyway, that time of year when the glorious celebration of Christmas, blended with the intensely beautiful days, the memorable "last" days of a life...the "last" time we made cookies, the "last" time we decorated a tree, the "last" visit to church, the "last" selection of favorite Christmas CD's, the "last" weeks at home when I became short order cook, nurse, shopper, housekeeper, you name it...and what a joyous privilege it was, even at the time. Did my inner sense know that these were the "last" times of earthly happenings? Is that why I derived such pleasure from them and would opt, even now, for that, over this?

We had no time to digest the ravaging cancer, 11 weeks, so we took each day and the news that came, responded and dealt with it. We prayed, we laughed, we hoped, we endured, and we came to know what life is really all about and what was/is important. We came to know that never again will we complain about the small things, that out of tragic circumstances, comes a faith and closeness to God and each other that can even be described as worth the journey. We came to understand the Christmas story in ways that had seemed rather remote at the time, and we came to put our complete faith and trust in God, whose will WILL be done. He took care of us all, held us up, and still does. There is no other explanation for how I am still standing, or coping, or entertaining, or cooking, or tending to my family, or even getting up when every corner of my being is screaming out in pain and sorrow. How do I do it, some ask, and I know my answer, fully and completely, by God's grace.He knows this is my trial and my sadness and I know it saddens Him, but he heals and protects, while never promising us smooth sailing.

Yes, as I look in the boxes of Christmas decorations, and close some lids, knowing that they may have to wait for another year, the emotion of putting them up is too raw and painful. But some will be there, tucked away, or placed in a very special spot, lit up and beautiful, the sign that Christmas is coming, these weeks are evolving, bit by bit, and Allison is part of it all. She is gone in the physical sense, but never far from any of us. God will get us through this storm, and then it will calm, and even rear its head again, we will get a respite now and then, and we will find our way. For now, the tears come, the memories are beautiful, yet difficult, it's too soon, too raw and too profound, time will help, and God will ease our hearts.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Acts 20:35, "It is more blessed to give than to receive"

I grew up hearing my father say this from time to time, especially when asked what he would like for a birthday or for Christmas...his response, "no gifts, it is better to give than receive", and he meant it. He would much prefer to stand on the sidelines at Christmas, or hold the bow bag, or sip coffee as we all tore into our packages that no doubt our mother had bought and wrapped, but he had willingly and lovingly paid for. I really didn't know his response was actually a scripture until much later, but what I did know, was that he was a true testament of this concept. I know he gave and gave and gave in ways that I will probably never ever fully comprehend.

So, as I grew older and learned there was a scripture that came from the book of Acts, I understand another concept of our Lord and Saviour. And a recent exploration of the chapters helped me understand from what context this scripture comes, (or at least I think I understand it)! Paul was making his farewell speech to the elders after being compelled by the Holy Spirit to leave them and not know what would happen. He knew he would face hardships but only wanted to finish the race and complete the task the Lord had given him, the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace. He knew he may not see any of them again so he encouraged them, once again, to commit to God and to His world of grace and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus himself, "It is more blessed to give than to receive".

Naturally, this story brings several things to mind and correlations to my own life. And what particularly struck me is that lately I have wanted to DO more, BE more, GIVE more, but at times cannot move past my own pain and sorrow and suffering. I pray diligently to move out of myself and my grief into the mode of helping others, and I do, but sparingly, it seems. I struggle to know what volunteer effort to join, whether to re-enter a work world, how to BE again, how to interact again. "They" say it takes time, and that for each of us who suffer from any type of trauma or shock, whether physical or emotional, the journey is different. I agree, but then I realize how life is so short, don't we know, and that my productivity could perhaps be more than making a meal for shut-ins, spending time with a grieving neighbor, baking cookies for those who cannot, offering mentoring advice to those who call or visit, opening my heart and home for a momentary respite for those leading a hectic, chaotic life, or being that listening ear to a friend in need. In this time of giving, rather than receiving, I pray God will lead me to fulfill a mission of His, giving back and doing for others, knowing that we each walk a road filled with challenges. "Giving" takes that sense of pain away, the loss dissipates for a short time, and brings that moment of comfort or joy to others. "Giving", when done with love and care, is healing, therapeutic, and comforting, but most importantly, when done with the conviction of the heart, it is God's work. I know from experience that He will reveal my time and place, so I work to be patient, thankful of the blessings that I do have, the gift of time, the dawning of each day where my soul can carry me where I ought to go, the chance to explore new horizons, a paced life that I have never fully embraced until now, and the chance to "give" when the time is right.

Indeed, I am in a special place in my life, I know it, I work to embrace it, and I am learning something new about myself every day. God has "given" me so much.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Reading Material

The written word is my passion, my addiction and my hobby, I suppose. Always has been, as far back as I can recall, which is about 4th grade, when I began the Bobsy Twin series (I believe that was the title, baby boomers will recall!) and couldn't stop. My nose was often in a book of any kind and over the years, it would depend on where I was at that particular time in my life as to what you would see on the nightstand or shelves. All forms of genre could be found but I rarely read autobiographies or true to life stories, mostly fiction and self-help, then the stage of leadership books and manuals, how to motivate and work with people, whatever came my way. Not long ago, a friend was over and scanned the many books lined on the desk in my "reading room", and another friend asked what she was looking at, and she replied that you can tell a lot about a person when you look at the title of books they have close at hand. So I took a look through her eyes, and saw titles such as "The Heavenly Man", "A Broken Heart Still Beats", "Surviving the Losses in Your Live", "90 Minutes in Heaven", "Seven Choices: Steps in Grieving", "The Power of Now", well, you get the picture. There are also assorted Jodo Piccoult selections, my new favorite author, who my sister wonders how I can read right now...I wonder that too, given the content of her books, high school shootings, dying of cancer, child abductions, and so on. Are those dark topics or just realities in my life, in all of our lives? I claim to love the way in which this author shares the written word, but must admit that she draws me in from the first page and I am caught up in the relationships and lives that made these people who they are, and not only am I hooked, I am intrigued. I know people just like every one I meet in her books, and maybe, just maybe I AM one of those characters.

A book not mentioned above, but a staple on my nightstand, is "The Shack", a book that as soon as I finished it, I began it again. That isn't all that rare for me, for all the books on my shelf find me weaving in and out of them, once finished, to maybe find that one chapter again that helped so much, or to read about that experience now that I am in a different place. But "The Shack", well, that hit home in many ways, starting with the profound loss at the beginning. The book is part fiction, part non-fiction and some of it is up to the reader to determine. You may walk away from this reading experience and ask, did Mac really spend a weekend with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit? One may suggest the absurdity of it all, that it was made up madness at its best. One may wonder how someone's mind could create such a vivid, real, yet remote experience. One may not "get it" at all and abandon the book as a hoax or ploy. And all of that is okay for the experience of reading it as as unique as the individual's life, journey, past, present or future.

I believe each time I read this book, I will be in a different place, as they say, thus, will gain something different than the time before. When I read it this fall, many emotions played into it and I had to sort out where I was coming from. I recalled what I would perceive as my own "shack" moment, when I knew God was always with me, sending the Holy Spirit through me, I recalled moments when I had what I thought was a dream, but upon waking up, knew it was not a dream in the true sense, it was the voice of a loving Father talking to and through me, and I naturally spend the entire book grieving with this earthly father who in an instant lost his child, once again confirming the notion that all we have is this moment in time.

I didn't need "The Shack" to confirm for me that God works His own magic and miracles in each of our lives, that a presence more powerful than us is at work, and that we are never alone, but it was definitely a life changing book to read, one for the Christmas lists. I have already given out 6 copies and I don't expect one of us to interpret it the same at all, but for those of us who are on the quest to look deeper, make sense of life, death, eternity, love, destiny, after-life, it is a good read!

Saturday, November 29, 2008

You're Ready When You Are Ready...

It is amazing to me, now, what demands and expectations society and the world puts on each of us as we move through the various stages and phases of life. Up until a certain point, I feel like I lived the way our culture demanded, I was the good girl, attended church, went to college, married, had two children, a thriving and fulfilling career, raised the family, eventually got a dog, stayed married, and so the story goes...and yes, there were a few bumps along the way, things didn't ALWAYS play out as I had planned, but until the intense walk of loss and grief, all could be rectified and sorted out. Every problem had a solution. Then cancer invaded our lives and all control, problem solving, decision making had to be released and surrendered. This was not a diversion in the road, this was not a roadblock of life, this was real and powerful and a true test of the faith we claimed to hold true.

What prompts these thoughts this day are the well meaning, good intentioned friends and family who "assume" we are in such a better place and that, in some of their words, surely this is getting a bit easier. "THIS" being the second set of holidays, I suppose, or living life, or moving on. Some have even shared that they have "heard" it gets easier. That may be so, the hearing part, I mean. But the actual living part, no. Bereavement is that entity that is unique and personal to each of us who walk and live and breathe it, it never goes away, and intensifies just when you think you have a bit of a handle on it. In our country, there are a few days when the grieving can take off from work, while in others, black is worn for seven years. In our society, if we look good, we ARE good, and that is all that matters. I guess I feel somewhat like an ambassador, these days, when people who really want to know what this is like. In reality, how can any of us really know, and who would really want to, but those who ask, I am willing to share what I can...that we each take it differently. Joe finds himself able to do things I still cannot, and vice versa, Jen and Joe find that working and staying very busy helps as they honor and remember, and I like the freedom of time. I read from the Bible and other devotionals every day, praying to find that word of comfort that always comes, and Joe immerses himself in true to life stories of challenge and victory. I find it most difficult to enter church doors, and Joe is very comforted by that setting. Jen finds her way to visit the cemetery often and I rarely go there. And all of the other family and Allison's friends, well, each one's way of maneuvering through this is as unique and individual as they are.

I guess if there is a message about grief and the upcoming weeks, those that blend the holidays and Allison's last weeks on this earth, it is to say, we are all in this together, yet each treads their separate journey. There is nothing easier about it because it is the second time around, and a fear I do have is that it won't be easier the 20th time around, that is why I am learning to live in the moment, in the NOW. I don't look back or too far ahead, for that brings on its own unique pain, but I am learning to live where I am, acknowledge that place, even savor it, for this moment will not come again.

In the meantime, we are ready for each turn, in our own way and in our own time. I am grateful, in some ways, that I get the chance to create my own blueprint, that I don't have to succumb to someone else's timetable, opinions, or ideas. While I am certainly not a trailblazer in the world of grief, I do get to do it my way and be ready when I am ready...for whatever comes my way.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

A House is "Just" a Home

Along with the wide range of emotions, "triggers", memories, and new plans, this holiday week, Thanksgiving Eve, marks the day we moved into a newly built house. Just three short years, yet what seems a lifetime ago, here we came, over the river, to sleep in the "new house", the house we built after finally being bought out by the airport for future plans. Those runway and other plans do not look like they will come to fruition, much to my chagrin, because I didn't want to leave that neighborhood, that house, that life, my home. I didn't exactly go kicking and screaming for I had no choice, much like many other events in my life, so we made the best of it, and found our way through selecting floor plans, light fixtures, doorknobs, colors, carpet, furniture, all new and foreign to me. You see, in our bedroom we still had my parents bedframe and Joe's junior high desk and dresser, yes, even after 27 years of marriage. And yes, we still had my parents floral couch, used chairs, a dinette set for a dining room, and other assorted hand-me-downs. Then there was the orange carpet, yes, orange, and we never replaced it, rather we lived with it. Prior to the big move, I couldn't take it anymore and we removed it, only to discover a fairly decent floor, and viola, we had hardwood floors for the last year or two. So, naturally, selecting "new" and improved items for the house was rather nice, yet, stressful at times, for I just wanted to stay put and improve the old. But more than leaving the house, it marked a new era, a time when the girls really went separate ways, leaving Joe and I to take on a new home with an empty feeling, yes, the first sought after, then dreaded, empty nest syndrome. A whole book can be written on that topic, and many have, so it clearly must have its place in milestones of life!

I didn't understand what went into a "new" house, how beautifully empty it could be, how it echoed, how people could see in, how much you needed to fill it up! So the task started slowly to make this house a home. The first Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas helped, especially as Joe and Jen and Allison each gave their own sentimental gifts to me...as for me, I stuck to what I thought was the plan, practical gifts for the girls, along with some assorted "diva" type items, and no presents for Joe, the house was our present to ourselves. Well, imagine my surprise when a wrapped package sat alone in the rubble of unwrapped gifts, a photograph of my former home, taken at twilight, and matted in none other than the orange carpet. Tears flowed as memories of days long gone took over, and I held it to my heart. On the heels of that precious gift, the girls presented Joe and I with an amazing surprise photograph taken over that Thanksgiving holiday, and the sparkle in their eyes said so much. And then Allison's words, "we wanted you to always remember what we looked like when we moved in here, and we will make this house a home"...the sage wisdom of a young 20 year old college student. Jennifer had arranged, and no doubt, paid for this amazing gift that now, too, stands as a treasured memory.

I have come to realize in the short three years where life has taken such drastic turns, that so much of our happiness and joy does come from the memories made in days gone by, that we often forget to savor the little things that all too soon become the big things, that simple words and gestures can last a lifetime. I have also come to realize that God had a way of helping us expediate the process of making this house a home, we had time to spend, games to play, laughter can still be heard, and a presence is so life like that it will never fade. We have managed to bring what we had in Bridgeton to this St. Charles home, and while all of our plans for it have changed, like everything else in our lives, all we needed was the love.

So this day, I am grateful for the love, and the memories.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Friends and Lifelines

It's another Sunday and sometimes that's all I can say about that...but as I count my blessings I think of the week I just spent, really filled with so many friends from my various circles. I also had a long conversation with a friend, who is working to mend a torn relationship with her friend, and she sought the advice of the wise one, that would be me! How I came to be so wise, I don't know, I suppose the amazing relationships that I have been blessed to have over the years, bearing the confidences of many, understanding what makes people tick, or just plain growing old, which I don't think I am always willing to accept! At any rate, I thought of this past week, this past year, this past two years and I thought of so many who have become my lifelines. Friends are certainly not with you at all times, but there must be many connections of the heart, because often, just when I am thinking of a particular person, they call, or send an e-mail, or a card. Or sometimes there is no need for any of that because we are just in the same place and we know it without even sharing words. My "lifelines" know who they are, and I wouldn't attempt to share names for fear I would leave someone special and spectacular off the list! If they don't know who they are, I hope they, too, feel the tug of their heart strings today, knowing how they keep me up, afloat, and basically surviving. Different friends serve a purpose in my life, some have so much history that they know me better than I know myself, some are that daily chat that connects me to the realities of life and her world, confirming for me, that life does keep going on, some friends bring the pot pie when my world is caving, and some call and simply say, "I love you", some send just the right trinket or note or something that "spoke" to them from hundreds of miles away, causing me to breathe in hope for just that moment, some will gather at my home because I am not ready to socialize or find myself in larger crowds, some let me know they saw the angel wing in the sky or the letter A formed by a cloud, and some call to simply say "I have no words" but I am with you, some send a sympathy card, even now, after what some would perceive as too long a period of time, some understand that I have to follow my gut and heart and take baby steps to resume my new life, some don't understand, but try, some make decisions (out of love) for me because they "think" that certain things would help me, some see the pink sunsets differently now and send a picture, some are brave enough to let the tears fall with me as they allow me to speak of a daughter who is gone from this earth, but never gone from our family, some have no expectations of me, some have a few, most will never understand this journey I now travel, but some ask how is it going, and take the time to listen, some give the gift of time and a two hour visit, or coffee or a glass of wine, some are rushed in the craziness and madness and surreal times of their own lives but have time for a one line e-mail, some I have not seen since Allison's service, and some I see more often, some never knew Allison but understand why she came into their life, some helped raise her up and loved her like their own, some don't want to imagine the devastaion of loss, so they keep going on until they, too, face a loss, and then call me, some turn away at the thought of getting together, others face their own courage and hold me tight.

ALL friends come into our lives for a reason, and I have come to know, serve as my lifeline, my glimmer of life and light, and I am blessed to have so many moments when a friend is all I need.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Thankfulness

Yes, it's that time when most of us look to our blessings and give thanks, try to extend good will and cheer to neighbors and friends, perhaps give to our favorite charity or lend a hand to "give back" for all we have received. Many of us love the Thanksgiving holiday because there is very little stress, except for the cooking part, and minimal expectation, it can often be a day to just BE and really enjoy family. I know for many of us, Thanksgiving Day is every day, especially when you learn very quickly that nothing in life can be taken for granted! Imagine my surprise a few Thanksgiving dinners ago, when our oldest daughter asked everyone to go around the table and say what they were thankful for...it was then that I realized, and found my own thanks, that some of what we had taught and stood for had really impacted her. I remember to this day what everyone around that table said and I cling to it when shades of grief and loss penetrate me, knowing I will have many blessings, but not the one of having my complete family around the dinner table. I have come to know, however, that while the loss is often unbearable and unthinkable, I really DO have my complete family, just not in the way I would have perceived or preferred. We still have that wholeness and completeness and Allison is always a part of everything we do, just as before, perhaps even more so, because as we learn to cope and breathe in a new way, she is at the core of how we keep going on, going on and giving thanks for times such as these.

For many, it is difficult to comprehend giving thanks when there is so much pain, and applying it to their own lives is most difficult. I find that to be true, too, at times, and sometimes as I list my blessings in my blessings journal, I am almost glad no one else will ever read it, for there are moments when I am digging and digging for a blessing to ease my troubled heart. Times and life are hard, we have learned that they aren't meant to be easy, we will all face loss, trials, burdens, bills that can't be paid, Christmas mornings that don't bring the happiness we thought it would, loss of jobs, and these times are the most challenging of all. Every day someone we know loses their life to cancer, to someone else's wrong doing, to stress, to overdoses, to unthinkable means. Then we are left to go on, sometimes wondering, "is this all there is", to be in this pain, to dread or fear a holiday, to worry ourselves into physical and mental incapacities. But for some of us, we truly know that "in the scheme of things" this can ALL be worked out, for when there is life there is hope and God promises us all our own unique miracle. I am comforted by that concept and truth, we all have our place and time in this life, and the struggles make us stronger, and the life that is left becomes all that sweeter. Nothing looks the same, everything is anew, songs sound different, simple chores and caregiving become a privilege and the moment we are in becomes the most important one there is...

I read on a church sign just this week that if all we do is give thanks everyday, that is sufficient. God hears us, this I know, and if all I can do is give thanks for one thing, then I consider myself blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving to all, love, Kathy

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Just an "ordinary" Day

As I pulled in the parking lot of the school where I once served as principal, just this morning, to visit a special event being held on a Saturday morning, I was reminded of how many times I had pulled in that same driveway, walked up the steps of the school, worked all day, sometimes into the evening, going about my business all in the course of an ordinary day. Today, as I pulled in, I was reminded of the day my world changed with the ringing of a phone call. As I was heading into a grade level meeting, the call came, Allison's voice starting strong, then quivering to tell me not to rush to Chicago, that she would be alright, but to please come the next day. She needed and wanted her parents. The doctors had found a small mass, maybe it was not "just" pneumonia after all. Thus, the shift from ordinary to extraordinary, surreal, and unchartered. From that moment forward, no day would be the same. I know there had been life defining moments before, but none that shocked to the core, causing my inner sanctum to feel as though a circuit breaker was setting off alarms through every fiber of my being. That pulsating feeling has become my new reality, for never again will life be defined as normal. I think of all the aspects of my life that once were just simple and ordinary, like grocery shopping, or dining out, or taking a trip, or attending a social gathering, or entering a school. There are days when I still drive way out of my way to find a grocery store that will not bring me so much sorrow and pain. The memories flood and I am weak, and sometimes I abandon the cart and head for home. When I enter a Target or a Wal-Mart, I scope out the faces in case of recognition, in case I have to explain anything. I armor myself with the right words, just in case, in case I run into anyone who might not know, or who does know and doesn't know what to say....like the time I ran into our former dental hygenist who asked how Allison was liking life in Chicago. Was I more sorry for myself for having to answer, or for her who had to hear the answer? I prepare when I meet new people for the question that always comes, "do you have any children", and again, my simple, "ordinary" answer has been changed, now rehearsed to the fullest, "yes, we have two children, our daughter Jennifer is 26 and our daughter Allison passed away after a battle with lung cancer"...again, nothing is "ordinary" any more. When I, or others in our family, can bearly utter her name, say it without intense pain, I know that we are no longer in an "ordinary" state. When I think of ways to make the holidays a bit different, I know that the "ordinary" traditions can not come without intense pain, washing over me with every ornament to be hung, every Christmas carol to be sung, every trip to the store.

If I could bargain with God to go back to a time when the mundane aspects of life were just that, I wonder if I would trade places. I believe I am supposed to know what I now know, what I now feel, what I now live with...I believe I am supposed to realize that all the trivial things and complaining in life could not, do not possibly matter. In fact, I can see through all of that now. And I do get that until someone truly lives the experience, they cannot fully understand how those things just do not matter, but what matters is how we respond to the now "extraordinary" life we live. I live to pay homage to a daughter who is gone from her earthly home, be a role model and mentor to a daughter who is full of life, be a support to a husband who remains strong and true. And I know I am called upon to be a comfort to others, a comfort because I know and understand so much now, the rose colored glasses have been shed for the clearest, brightest, sharpest images. I do not know why, it is still too early to know, but I understand that as I will never know "ordinary" again, God has helped me to see a purpose. His word in 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 promises, "Blessed Be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of all mercies and God of ALL comfort, who comforts us in our afflictions so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God".

Thursday, November 13, 2008

A Day in the Life...

I started this new day with quite a long conversation with my brother, who I always say gets trapped in his own mind most of the time. He lives in the past, he lives in the future, and has ample "think time", which isn't always good. He thinks about what he could have done, should have done, but I must say, he is getting better. His mind, though, like all of ours, can take us places we don't need to go, or it can create situations that are not always true, based on perceptions or perspectives of others, or even of ourselves. We talked about a lot of things and he, as always, gave ME something to think about, too. We mostly talked about the lessons of life, especially of late, and in particular since Allison left us to reach her eternal home. David shared with me how he likes it that I really do live in the "now" and that when he is really "down", he can count on me to inspire. Little does he know that he often inspires me! His lifestyle has never been what I would have chosen, but I have tried to recognize that it IS his choice and that he is who he is...he has a heart of gold, loves his sisters, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews and all assorted others who move in and out of his life. What he shared with me this morning was that he likes the new me (I'm paraphrasing, I think he said he likes me:), a person not focused on the future, not on a personal and professional mission, a person who has time for anyone who needs an ear or advice, a person no longer ruled by the Franklin Planner. Naturally, that caused me a little regret, but it was who I was, the organizer, the planner, the facilitator, the goals and targets I had set for myself were being accomplished. I was privileged and blessed, and still am, even in broken times. At any rate, when I thought of what David said about me living in the now, I am happy that is really true. I think I really embraced that concept out of survival mode when Allison was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer. The curve balls never, ever stopped for eleven straight weeks, and since her passing, no minute is the same, no day is ever chartered, no course remains straight. Naturally, I do still host social events, have lunch or dinner with friends, hold family dinners, and other somewhat "normal" things I once did. But I cannot tell you, any longer, where I will be on what day and at what time. I kept a very tight schedule, somewhat due to my profession as a school principal, somewhat because I am just like that! When David says he has noticed a change, it helps to know that I am making my way. I don't always see it that way. I look in the mirror and I do not see what was once there, I see pain and fatigue and sorrow. I don't see the laughter and joy that others may see. I see a face with penetrating, green eyes that have been opened wider than I ever imagined, I know things I would have never envisioned, and I feel things that are not meant to be felt. I grip at grief each and every minute and I fear growing old and being defined as a mother who has lost a child. I don't look back and I don't look ahead, it is far too painful and complicated. So, I live for now. I embrace the moment I am in and if I have to ask God to get me to the next minute, I do just that. I don't think about the hours of the day and I don't think about how I am supposed to be at this stage. I have learned that this spiral I am weaving my way through is just that, a web that never ends, but changes and evolves. I am learning to walk again, to feel again, to laugh again, to possibly find joy again. I am learning to be a new me and I do my best to NOT let my mind take over. God has blessed me with the opportunity to embrace this change and make it count, for Him, for Allison, and for the living. Like a child, I will stumble and fall as I make my way, I will understand that for each of us, the walk of grief is different, the journey of life is complex, no two of us will respond the same. There is no time frame but our own. And, the deeper promise is that it is all temporal. God promises in the book of Corinthians that things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. That concept comforts me in times of darkness, in times when I do not know how I will go on, whether in grief, or in these shaky times. For some I know, paying the mortgage, car payment, tending to the sick, facing life threatening illnesses, raising the children create intense challenges. In those times, as in grief, there does not seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. But there is, and when we live through and past some of those moments, it is beautiful to know God loves us enough to provide what we need, even when we ourselves do not know what that is...

David, my brother, you gave me a lot to think about this day, as always, and I guess I can honestly say, we are learning the lessons, bit by bit, piece by piece. If we had it all right and correct and in order, there would be nothing to live for, so here's to this day, and all the days that follow.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Songs and Hymns

This weekend as my sister and various friends, college roomies included, gathered at my house for a quick stopover or a sleepover, it was confirmed for me, once again, what good therapy friends and "sisters" can be...the laughter, prayers, serious moments, conversations helped us all "heal" from whatever burdens we carry. This weekend did go down in the record books of all reunions and became known for the singing of songs that took place. One person would make a comment and another would break out in song, and before you knew it, four people would break out in full blown song until they forgot the words, then they would just hum or make crazy sounds. It's as if they created the "kitchen clatter band" right in our own house...you would have to be there to get the full blown effect. I didn't participate but enjoyed watching the antics! If only they could have seen what I observed and believe it or not, no alcohol was involved. This was a first, in pajamas by 8:00 p.m., gathered around the coffee table with no liquor, just having a good old fashioned time. I loved the laughter and the fellowship and the fun, although at moments, it was just a wee bit over stimulating. We knew someday we would grow up and stay IN, maybe do a craft or two, watch a movie or two, well, we are growing closer to that new concept and admitting, just a wee bit, our coming of age in our 50's!

I guess it was not any surprise, then, when I woke this morning with a tune in my head. They had me practically brainwashed with songs from every genre, but this morning, an old hymn was playing in my head, literally. The words were clear, "Praise God from who all blessings flow, Praise Him all creatures here below, Praise Him of the Heavenly Host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost"...or words similar! It's sort of like this weekend, I definitely had the gist of the song, but one or two lines were fuzzy! At any rate, I was humming this song upon awakening this morning and it reminded me, thankfully, to focus on what I DO have, not what I do not. It would be so much easier to stay in the trenches of what, or should I say who, is not here. It would be so much easier to focus on my limitations rather than my strengths. As I head into the holiday season, it is getting particularly challenging to face days with such a heavy load, the pain of loss, the empty, hollow heart. Sometimes I just press my hand heavy to my heart to remind myself that Allison is still there and will remain there for eternity. I remind myself that she is always with me, and I ask God to give me the strength to make it to the next minute, and He always does. It's amazing. He is amazing. And He strums the little tune in my head to remind me of what I do have, a day to be lazy with my sister here at the house, curled up in robes by the fireplace, a daughter who is like an energizer bunny, who keeps us all smiling just by her mere presence, a husband who "endured" so much noise this weekend when the ya-ya convention was held Friday-Sunday, and wondrous friends who one can just be who they want to be with, no itinerary, no theme, no rules...blessings do flow from above. As each sister and friend gathered, all with a burden, a story of their own, it was clear that through it all, God provides the blessings, we have to keep looking and counting.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Blazing Color

The colors of this autumn are so magnificent, none more so than on a drive down Highway 94, yesterday, into and through, wine country. Yes, the wine was incredible, always enhanced when sipping and chatting with others, basking in the sun, embracing the breeze, but the colors....it was as if God took a magic paintbrush and just threw dabs of glory on a wide canvas. I don't know that I ever saw anything like it, so it was for that reason, and the chance to spend some quality time with family, that I was glad I ventured out on a Sunday. Sundays are never simple or easy anymore, I suppose it's because of the connotation to family day, sometimes dwelling on the empty hole in my heart as I remember family church days, pot roast dinners, phone calls or visits, until the dreaded 5:00 or 6:00 in the evening would come and it would be time to concentrate on the week ahead. In retirement, I am afforded the beauty of simple Sunday evenings, no laundry or cooking ahead needs to be done, there is always tomorrow, or the next day. A friend/colleague of mine and I joked that months ago I told him I was going to clean my "lazy susan" in the kitchen, and I still have not gotten around to it...I get around to whatever I deem necessary, now. Another perk of this phase and stage is I am no longer ruled by the demands of life outside my home.

But back to the wonder of the fall colors...a friend sent me a message that said something like, "when reluctant to change, notice the beauty of autumn"...not exactly the same quote, but the message is the same. For me, that message means that every evolving minute there is change, brought to our family with a sudden, life altering moment that will always stand still in time. Yet, the changes can bring magnificence. A stronger woman emerges in Jennifer, an awareness that life is short and we should explore and travel has been brought to Joe and me, a sense of music and lyrics that I feel I never heard before, discovering new and intriguing artists and vocalists, time for reading the never ending lists of books and stories, a pending trip from my sister who will stay the whole week rather than a few days, an attitude that we (Kathy and I) are going to drink from the finest glasses and NOT plastic cups, and we are going to drink the best wine first!

Change is constant and next Saturday the canvas of trees will not look the same, the leaves will have blown off, the rains will most likely see to that, but the beauty will be there, nevertheless. There may not be blazing oranges, yellows, and reds blending together in their brilliance but there will be something different, something new to seek and learn from and appreciate. There will be a time for something new.

As promised in Ecclesiastes there is a time for everything, Chapter 3, verse 4..."a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance..."

This is the day....love, Kathy

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Another Day, Another Month

As the day dawns, so does a new month. Another favorite month. Still that month when you get to experience small specks of Indian Summer, savor the aroma of pumpkin breads and pies, light the fall candles, turn the clocks back, all is good in November. Sweatshirts and jacket weather, another favorite.

I also now know something about November that I never knew before, it is Lung Cancer Awareness month. Who knew? But then I have "learned" more than I ever thought possible about many things in the last 24 months. I didn't know that various cancers had their own significant colors, months dedicated to their awareness, staggering statistics, intense survivor stories, and even misconceptions. I surely never knew that lung cancer is the 2nd leading cause of death and has more death related conditions that breast, colon, prostate, and ovarian cancers combined. From an emotional standpoint, I didn't know just hearing the word, "cancer", that so many feelings could blend and roll through my body, mind and spirit. I certainly had heard the word often enough in my lifetime, that is, until it penetrated my life, my family, my home, my heart and soul. It raged and took a precious daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece, and friend from us, way too soon. So, naturally, I am still grappling with it all. I can say, however, that I don't seek answers, for there will be none. Allison had a cell, the smallest of cells, but the most rapid to reproduce into large tumors, small cell lung cancer which makes up 20% of all lung cancers. And I have learned that women who have never smoked are more likely to develop lung cancer than men who never smoked. Very few doctors would have thought to check a very healthy, non-smoking 21 year old when she suffered from complete exhaustion, hoarseness, chronic cough, shortness of breath and chest pain for cancer...it couldn't be, but it was...and her chances of winning the million dollar lottery were better.

I refer to a website, The Lung Cancer Alliance, from time to time, as I make my quest to learn more and find a way to support. I will very soon post her picture on the site, the faces of those who continue to live as survivors or those who have been laid to rest after their intense battle. For obvious reasons, funding is limited and not nearly the magnitude of breast cancer. There is a stigma with lung cancer, calling it the "smoker's cancer". While Allison tampered with and tried the occasional cigarette in her late teen years, she had no habit or addiction. One special doctor made sure she knew that those few cigarettes did none of this damage, that she would have had to had an intense, 25 year habit to have the lung damage she had. Doctors across this country examined her case, and it is quite possible, still, that she is the youngest female to lose her life to this disease.

I am compelled to do whatever I can to understand more in this awareness month, and I certainly wish I could fund enough to enhance the research. While that will never happen to its fullest, I believe that when others look into the shining eyes of her lovely face, they will remember her and help in any way they can....maybe it will be to NOT judge lung cancer patients, maybe it will be to encourage a doctor to take a scan of a lung when the symptoms occur and the belief that lung cancer is for others, maybe they will participate in a walk or relay for life and support cancer research, maybe they will find a way to stop their own smoking habits for the sake of themselves or a loved one, maybe they will take time from their very busy, hectic lives to send a card or give the gift of time to someone in need, maybe they will simply appreciate their own healthy loved ones that much more and let the small stuff go, maybe they will take their own deeper walk of faith and know that God will be with you when you just ask, maybe, just maybe, one person, our Allison, will help make the difference.

This is the day....love, Kathy

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Some Days

Some days just have more significance than others, and of late, all days conjur so much in my heart and soul. I desperately desire to move past the memories of two years ago, where each day for eleven weeks revolved around the biggest change of all, a cancer diagnosis. I have gained a first hand knowledge through many book sources and healing modalities, including varying types of therapy, that the post traumatic shock can take years to even begin to wear off, and there is no timeframe. That is a relief in some ways, because I don't want to be "stuck" in a holding pattern. For me, that would mean life stood still in that timeframe and hasn't moved a bit. I work hard and diligently not to let that happen. Yet, the crisp autumn beauty and pre-holiday season, while in the past, my "favorite" time of year, now sends triggers of emotion that I cannot even begin to be prepared for, at times. Triggers, as I call them, come at the most interesting of times, and I am learning to let them come, use the strategies that I have acquired, not supress, and hopefully, recognize that it's just fine to hold that place for a bit, then move it to another place, knowing I will visit it again. Some days are just that, some days, yet they all hold the beauty, wonderment and blessings, even when I have to look deep.

I don't have to look deep this day to see the blazing pinks, reds, oranges and yellows that are illuminating my entire house. A smile comes to my heart as I think of this day, a 31 year anniversary for Joe and me, a marriage that has withstood many tests and trials, but has without a doubt brought many joys. I ponder just how this could be, with so many marriages ending in divorce, just how this one has lasted, endured, thrived and flourished. The one answer that comes to mind is the commitment and faith in God, vows that at the time were words of a ceremony, but words that later meant more than we would ever know. I do remember that day and how I almost came to tears at the alter when I made that vow. Someone joked later about me not knowing what I was getting into and wondered if that was why...I laughed right along with them, not telling them that my emotion came from such a powerful sense that God was blessing this marriage, and I was right! There can be no other explanation as to why we are still here, standing strong, and holding on to the sacrament of a long lasting marriage.

I also don't have to look deep into this day to find another significance, 14 years ago, on our 17th wedding anniversary, my mother passed into eternal peace. That day had the same autumn glow, with a strong hint of Indian Summer, just like my wedding day, and after very intense suffering and pain, I recall so vividly, falling to my knees while folding laundry, asking God to share His desire and plan for her, and to please do what was best. I believe this was the first out loud conversation I really had with God. Before, I had been raised that prayers were mostly said quietly, and even in that, they were recited, memorized prayers, I didn't really know much about a conversational prayer. It didn't matter, I just talked, and asked, and laid it all at His feet, and lo and behold, the answer came, 15 minutes later, when the nurse called to say that if I would like to see her, I should come soon. There was never so much relief, never so much grief, my first learning experience with the intensity of loss, yet at that moment, I knew, once again, that God will not forsake me when I walk in faith. I didn't ask him to spare her life or beg for her to live, I asked that His will be done. He found the answer and my mother received her miracle.

Some have asked me over the years if the date of our wedding anniversary is painful because of the blended memories, and I have honestly always answered, no! I almost am grateful, because I did perceive her passing as an anniversary gift of sorts, for it opened up a relationship with God that may have never happened, and I certainly couldn't have understood just what that day prepared me for in life. Yes, another blessing in broken times.

I love this day, I am seizing it, embracing it the best I can, triggers and all, memories and all, emotions and pain, even as the beauty of it evolves, yet, grateful for another year, another memory, another day, love to all, Kathy

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Worry and Anxiety

It seems everyone I talk with has some profound worry and anxiety in their lives, and as we share one another's burdens, it is easy to become consumed with each other's concerns. Many of us have the nature of desiring to help out our family, friends, loved ones, colleagues in some way. I know for sure that if I could, I would take away the burdens of the heart of those near and dear to me, my sister and brother in law, who struggle and grapple with how to LIVE through cancer, my dear friends whose children are hurting, therefore, they are in emotional pain, another dear friend who is learning how to BE after a sudden divorce, another who is trying desperately to cope and hold onto the marriage she does have, well, the list goes on and on and it won't ever end. Staying focused on what we DO have, this day, this beautiful autumn, can be difficult even on a good day when bad and evil and pain persist. But I have learned that worrying and being anxious do not help at all, for life is going to be lived, regardless of how much sleep we lose, how much neck and back pain we endure, how limited we become, AND I am brought to my own daughter, Allison's, very words...."mom, I bet you worried about many things as I was growing up, that I would get hit by a drunk driver, or attacked in the streets of Chicago, or become a teenage mother, or whatever, but I bet you never worried that I would get cancer...I could have saved you a lot of worry". Those are my words to live by, another part of the legacy she has left us, and in doing so, she has left me with a freedom to NOT worry about Jennifer, Joe, myself, those near and dear, because it will really do no good. So as our 401 K is diminishing, like everyone else's, and we wonder what is coming next in this world, let alone in our homes, there is freedom in knowing that no amount of worry and anxiety will change it.

I am reminded of, and cling to, a scripture that carries me, just in case I digress...Philippians 4:6-7, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." I am thankful for the love of God who does carry the burdens for me, leaving me free to live my life, face the challenges, find the joy, hold on to the memories, and live in the moment. My thankfulness abounds and my petition list grows as many face new and grueling burdens, but the promise that God will carry us is the best gift of all.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Off The Merry Go Round

There are days I would prefer to put a stop to life, halt the presses, so to speak, get off the ever evolving merry go round. While most days I can embrace the day, the moment, even the second, there are times, for all of us, when we would wish it to just stop. I am blessed in retirement that I don't have to conform to a world that keeps spinning. Each day I thank God for this gift, for when Allison passed on to eternal life, I knew I was not going to be in a position, physically, emotionally, spiritually, to grieve with hundreds around me. I knew there would be a roller coaster to ride and I wanted to be able to ride it with my own dignity in tact, my own way, and to handle grief before it handled me. When they say it is like riding a wave, that is no exaggeration. But, life is like that, whether we are grieving or not. Each of us has our story, and as I say, some have not begun to be shared. Even with my public words and openness, so much of "my" story, our family's story, Allison's story, has not even begun to be revealed.

So, for today, this day that I do rejoice and thank God for, I am allowing the freedom of getting off the merry go round. I cancelled all appointments, I am savoring the lingering moments in a favorite robe, given to me by Jennifer and Allison, a robe Allison would use as a whole blanket. It is bringing me comfort as are the words brought to me in a scripture that I use often, to remind myself that all of what we deal with is temporal, for in a moment, as my mother used to say, "this too shall pass"...2 Corinthians 4:17-18, "For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."

I know how blessed I am for the ability to stop the presses, for having a day ahead where I am my own boss, to be able just to live this moment in my own choosing, for most people do not have that gift as they struggle through life's challenges. Given what has happened, it is difficult to imagine being one of the "lucky" ones, I prefer to say "blessed", blessed that in brokenness, God shows me how to appreciate and savor and just BE, and His word promises me that whatever is happening or taking place, it is indeed just temporal, and in the next minute, life will take another turn. The ride is rough, demanding, grueling, but filled with hope and faith and light.

Monday, October 20, 2008

This is a day for Courage

I recall when I taught any classroom of students, even my Sunday School class, that I would have a word of the day on the board. I love words. I love to play Scrabble, or Boggle or any other word game I can find. The problem is that no one really wants to play those games with me, and it's not because I always win, I don't. I just like words! Today a friend gave me a gift that has caused me to think about the word Courage. It was a Willow Tree angel, beautifully designed with arms outstretched as if to say Hallelujah! The gift carries much sentiment between this dear one and me, for she is the kind of friend where no words need to be said. The gift is an angel of courage, created by the designer to celebrate the triumphant spirit, strength and courage we call upon to face challenges in our lives, whether they be our health, or the well-being of our loved ones. It is a re-sculpture of an original piece and serves as a reminder of people in our lives who inspire us with their strength and courage everyday.

My precious, eloquent friend let me know how I display courage to her and to others. What praise to think that little old me could inspire anyone else, when I feel that I gain my strength from her and others. Yes, I know it takes courage to do what I do, what we all do, to face our day, to carry the burdens of the heart, to persevere and carry on, to live this day. By admittance, it's not always easy, especially now that I walk a road I never would have dreamed possible. As I think of courage, I know I draw my triumphant spirit from a loving God, who uses others to help me know I don't walk alone. I think of my friend, Barb, whose son called her last summer and told her he would put his motorcycle on an internet listing for sale later that day, and a short hour later, died on the side of the road in an accident, taking his last ride. Barb's courage to get up and take care of her grandchildren, feed them, get them to school, and attend their activities inspires me as does a former colleague, who lost her child many years ago in a fire, yet she finds a way to get up, work as a school custodian, cleaning and moving furniture and impacting the learning that goes on in that school. She often does not know how she will pay her rent with the high costs of fuel and housing, yet, there she is, making a difference. I draw my own courage from a newfound friend who has remained clean and sober for over one year, choosing a healthy life over the one she was drowning in, and from a former colleague who came home one day to an empty house, her husband having taken everything but the kitchen sink and the two children! My own mother comes to mind as I think of her, 14 years ago this month, lying in a coma for 6 weeks as she desperately tried to keep living for us. She underwent operation after operation, procedure after procedure, more than one body should really endure, until we whispered in her ear to let go and asked God to show grace and mercy as His will was done. Naturally, I recall the dignity in which my own father allowed us to feed him, medicate him, care for him in his final stages of cancer, right in our own home, showing the courage to keep his dignity and respect until his final breath. And, I recall the countless courageous parents who taught me so much about life, parents I came to know and respect through their own journeys, losing a child, fighting to keep a child, waking up to abuse, working two or three jobs, taking a bus, to another, to another and finally reaching their jobs hours after they left home.

Examples of courage could keep flowing, we all have them, we all know them, sometimes they are right in our own homes, sometimes they are told to us, but they all come at the time we need, to inpsire and motivate, to help us get up in the morning, to help us keep a perspective, to help us know we are going to be okay. If I were in the classroom today, courage would be my word of the day!

Saturday, October 18, 2008

A Picture Perfect Day

I often feel it is so easy to feel God's presence on a beautiful day such as this, when the leaves are at their most glorious, when the crispness in the air compels you to make a big pot of soup and an apple pie, when it's what I love, sweatshirt weather. I live for these kind of days, the days that bring me back to my childhood and the new england smell in the air. I feel comforted and free and wonderous. It makes me realize I live in a sensory state! I suppose that is why this kind of day is so invigorating, it brings "back" so many glimmers of beauty from my young adulthood-an October wedding just 31 years ago, pumpkin patches with the girls, apple picking with the family, hayrides, winery trips, bread making, craft fairs, football games.

As I embrace this day and make the most of it, I know it would be much more difficult if the picture were different. If it were raining, and the leaves were falling, the skies were gray, and the dampness was settling, I would be looking at this day differently. I certainly know the earth will turn, the tides will change, and in the next minute, the dreary could replace the illuminating, and I mean that in terms of life, more than I do this day. That is when I must be prepared to take what I learn from THIS day at hand and make it the best it can possibly be, armor myself, and tackle whatever does come my way. I thank God for His goodness and grace that will carry me through the beauty and the dark, for even having this 0pportunity to live a new day, and to make a new memory on this autumn day. For this moment in time, He has replaced the deep sadness of loss and painful memory with the new chance, by creating this amazing day. I do intend to rejoice and be glad in it!

Thursday, October 16, 2008

This Is The Day

Psalm 118:24, "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

Devotionals, meditations, scriptures, affirmations, prayer, books, books and more books have always been part of my life in one way or another, only to intensify, meant to sustain, heal, teach, grow me through one of life's most devastating changes and challenges-the loss of a child. Today, I begin another chapter of this journey, the creation of a blog, designed for my own purposes, a technological journal, if you will. Yes, designed for this healing road with no expectations, no second thoughts, no plans, just the pure and simple gift of sharing. Sharing in the hope that I will continue to grow and learn through this incredible turn in life, but also, that this may, or might, become a vehicle for others to become inspired, or inspire us, for we EACH have a story. Some stories are so deep they have not yet been recognized let alone been told, just carried in the depths of our souls, some stories are ever so slowly revealed, thus opening up a new chamber of the heart, causing others to catch a glimpse and causing our own selves to let a little light enter.

So, today dawns a new adventure. Some may say it is a bit risky to share deepest, soulful thoughts and feelings, some may wonder why now. My only answer is that I have always known, and tried to follow, the spirit God sends me. This attempt is no exception. It does, however, come to creation on a special anniversary of sorts, the eve of the day, two years ago, with her parents by her side, when our daughter, Allison, first heard the word cancer as it related to her diagnosis. It seemed that time stood still the minute the doctors walked through the door, one not making eye contact, the other, a later favorite, explaining in medical terms what exactly this meant. The confusion over such a diagnosis lingered, lung cancer in a 21 year old, healthy, vibrant young woman, could not be, so there was to be hope, short lived at best, that this cancer was NOT small cell. I don't believe I heard much as the word itself nearly took my breath away. Finding it difficult to stand and breaking out in a sweat, I sat down on Allison's bed and held onto her foot. The tears shed by the three of us were like never before but not unlike the ones that would pour in the weeks and months and now years to come.

I won't elaborate on that life changing, life altering moment now, but I will say from the second that the word was uttered, none of us have ever been, nor ever will be, the same. We have learned about choices, responses, attitude, perseverance and we know the deeper meaning of faith, love, hope and family. Today I look at the day the Lord has made, and I thank Him for holding us up that day, two years ago, and to continue to do so, for infiltrating our hearts, especially for using Allison to teach so many just how to live strong and solid. Without us knowing it, He created a legacy and a path to Him through our daughter.

From the moment of diagnosis, I asked God for a simple scripture that could help me endure and it was presented to me and has sustained me through the times I didn't think I could breathe, get up, keep on as a caregiver, let alone as a grieving mother. His words are my comfort, my strength, my compass. They guide me as I recite and believe His word to be true.

A painful memory penetrates me this day, this "anniversary" of sorts, but it is filled with the promise of a new day and I am thankful for it and all it brings. Indeed, "this is the day....."

Kathy