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