Tag Archives: cancer

cancer, Grief

Be Reading a Book

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I am a voracious reader. Well, I used to be anyways. On average, before mom got sick, I would be reading four books at any one time. Usually one bible study, one non-fiction and two fiction books would be stacked on my beside table.

Last week at mom and dad’s house, I looked on mom’s book shelf beside her bed. On the top of the pile, I found this book I gave her in November which was one of the last books she read.

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I picked the book because of it’s title and wintery scene. I didn’t even read the back.

I remember asking mom about it after she read it in two days flat. She said it was a good light read and that I should read it.

Today, I looked at the book summary. It’s about ‘three people at the crossroads of heartbreak and healing’. One of the characters lost her mom and no longer believes in anything. She believes her mom now speaks to her through heart-shaped rocks.

I may have to start reading again.

P.S. Sexy Neck just walked in the room and saw the book on my lap and asked, “Are you reading again?”

Me, I am still at maybe… Not sure my brain can handle it.

Boys, Family, Grief

Be With Boots

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Strap yourselves in.

Lie down.

Do what you need to do because boy do I have a story for you!

As I write these words I am very conscious that we each have an individual perspective on God, heaven, the meaning of life as well as life after death.

I want to be very clear where I am coming from so that you have a frame of reference for what I am choosing to write. My life is not directed by a church consciousness of God nor is my faith anything miraculous nor profound. My relationship with Jesus started in University in my childhood bedroom, alone with God answering a simple prayer: “God show me you are real.”

This simple prayer followed years of bible study, lukewarm times where I couldn’t see God at work, moments of zealously following God and now this.

This winter season living in a desert while rowing my boat in the ocean of grief. Woah!

Every present God.

Quilt maker sewing good and bad to make a beautiful quilt.

Coincidences that make me take a deep breath.

This one brought goosebumps to my arms.

A few days ago, I was sitting at the kitchen table with the three boys. When we have a quiet moment, this is when someone will usually bring up Nana.

On this day it was two year old, OC. He piped up, out of nowhere and said, “Nana with Boots!”
My ears almost fell off of my head. I immediately looked at JC, our six year old and said, “Do you know who Boots is?”
JC said, “No!”
Our four year old chimed in, “I have boots!”
I then asked OC again, “Who is Nana with?”
He said, “Boots.”
I paused then looked at the boys and told them that Boots was my childhood cat.
They looked at me wide-eyed then we went back to playing Lego.

Grief and God at His best!

cancer, Family, Grief

Be Before and After At the Wall (orange wall)

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There is a sacred place in Jerusalem called the Wailing Wall or Western Wall. This wall is believed to have been part of the Temple of Solomon. Checkout 1 Kings 6 and 2 Chronicles 3 in the bible for more insight.

As I have been painting our living room wall orange, I have been pondering the Wailing Wall. This is a sacred place for Jews to go to pray and lament. My personal orange ‘wailing wall’ has been a place where I pray and lament.

I pray:
⭐️ May this home be a sanctuary.
⭐️ Help me Jesus!
⭐️ Lord, be enough for me this day.
⭐️ Help me ‘understand’ why I want to stuff my mouth with food.
⭐️ Lord, be with each of my boys. Be present to them.
⭐️Help me put one foot in front of another when all I want to do is lie under my duvet.

And I lament, oh how my heart grieves so many things:
💔 Our best friends moving to Vancouver Island last March.
💔 Moving from our ‘hood’ on 29th Crescent in May.
💔 Mom starting to show she is unwell in June.
💔 Saying goodbye to friends popping over and being ‘known’.
💔 Moving to a new city and neighbourhood in July.
💔 Mom being in the hospital and beginning her journey with cancer.
💔 Starting new activities and schools for the boys in September.
💔 Riding the cancer wave with mom and dad all autumn.
💔 Mom’s final hospital and hospice time in December.
💔 Mom’s death on Boxing Day.
💔 Broken relationships are finally exposed. (My sensitive soul is actually more relieved than grieving this one!)
💔 Living each day without my mom.
💔 Watching my dad, Steve and the boys grieve.
💔 Existing in a world without my mom a phone call away, without her popping by, without her listening ear, without her presence, without her hugs.

20140217-131155.jpgBEFORE

I pray.

I lament.

I grieve.

I choose.

To paint.

20140217-131205.jpgAFTER

Sanctuary.

Sanctified.

Peace.

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I can survive!

I am full of gratitude for my boys!

I sit in the desert.

I wait.

I rely on my blessed friends.

I look for how God will bring me out of this.

I believe.

I rest.

I WAIT AT THE WALL.

If you need me, you know where I will be!

Boys, Family

Be On the Team (6 Points)

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Apparently, I use a whole stadium full of sports lingo in my language.

High five!

Hurry hard!

With speed this time.

Go! Go! Go!

I imagine it has to do with growing up shooting around the hockey rink while my dad played. Perhaps it could be the plethora of hours I spent playing volleyball (or really any sport)in a gym. Or even the days we spent on the snow while talking about the hockey rink or what was transpiring in the gym. Could it be my infatuation for tennis and ringette in my younger years that fuelled this sporty language acquisition? Maybe I could even put the blame on my very athletic parents.

Deuce!

Ace!

She scores!

This sports lingo has been a tremendous oar as I have had to row through my grief about cancer with my family and now with the loss of my ever-present mom.

Upon reflection of the words I choose, I have come up with six points on the scoresheet that are helping me understand how to be the healthiest, fittest and strongest player for the team.

Turn on the scoreboard, here we go:

1. CHOOSE TO BE A PLAYER! WE ARE STARTING WITH SOME NEW DRAFT PICKS. THE TEAM IS CHANGING JERSEY’S, STRAP YOURSELVES IN AND PUT YOUR F1 HELMET ON.

I have always tried to be a team player. I have always wanted everyone to be on the team. I have always felt the need to encourage people on the team that surrounds me – my friends, neighbours, family members and even the mail lady. This was a lot of energy going into being on the team as well as trying to be the team manager and cheerleader.

2. STEP UP, OR STEP OFF THE PODIUM. PLAYERS ONLY GET TO PLAY.

I am not interested in having people on the team who tell me I am now in charge of organizing things for the team. Sorry, every person is going to have to pull their own weight, plan their own lives, holidays, trips. I ain’t taking over the coaching role mom vacated. I definitely don’t like the cheerleader’s outfit nor the fact that the manager doesn’t get to play the game.

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(1985/86 Ringette Team)

3. TALK. LISTEN. TALK. LISTEN. COMMUNICATION IS KEY.

I am definitely not interested in having people on the team who have told me they need to have communication boundaries. If you can’t talk as a team, there is no team. Plain and simple. Oh ya, my children are on my team til they are eighteen so you better figure out what you need to do to swing the bat for the team. Otherwise, you will most likely will find it frustrating coming onto the field to play with a team you don’t know, but may have known twenty years ago in Little League.

3. GIVE ‘SOMETHING’ OF YOURSELF TO THE TEAM. (Not just expensive gifts!)

I am not interested in players who want to be on the team, but not be open or available to anyone by sharing something of themselves. Being on a team means give ‘n ‘r for the team: physically, emotionally, mentally.

4. YOU CAN MEET YOUR OWN NEEDS ON THIS TEAM.

I am no longer interested in being the one to plan, ponder and even worry about how you are fitting in with the team. Time for each person to step up to the plate and say what kind of skates don’t hurt your feet. Practice saying what you want then if you don’t get what you want, get off the bench. and get it yourself. No more moaning and groaning.

5. A TEAM IS NEVER PERFECT.

Lastly, on this team there is a place for mistakes. Yes, I just painted two walls of my house orange. Yes, I often say the ‘wrong’ thing in your eyes. Yes, I am raising my boys imperfectly with all my love. Oh ya, you can also throw your judgements (or prayers concealed as judgment) down the luge track.

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(1990 High School Volleyball Team)

6. LIFE IS A CHOICE: GOLD MEDALS EXIST FOR BOTH TEAM AND INDIVIDUAL SPORTS.

If you want perfection, stick to the 100 metre dash, keeping your eyes on the finish line, practicing to the best of your ability knowing I wish you well.

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(1991 Volleyball Provincials)

I choose to play on a team.

I was laughing out loud as I write this post. What great memories my parents created for me through sport. What a privilege it is to be in such a ‘raw’, fragile time!

cancer, Family

Be Indiscriminate.

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Cancer is indiscriminate.

No question.

No concern about who gets it.

I will never be able to make sense of my mom’s diagnosis and ultimate death due to cancer.

Often when I hear about famous people getting diagnosed with cancer I am apathetic about it because I think, they have money and they will be able to do more to cure their cancer or at least put the cancer into remission. Nope. Patrick Swayze, Dana Reeve (Superman’s wife), Steve Jobs (Apple guy) and Luciano Pavarotti (Opera Singer) have all died from cancer.

Indiscriminate.

Brutal.

Knocking me senseless.

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cancer, Family, Grief

Be in the Beginning Stage of Grief

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I am self-assessing that I am in the beginning stage of working through my grief.

The fog.

The midbrain.

The haze.

The denial.

I grieve my mom, our move, our old neighbours, our best friend’s move, our loss of friends. Grief is a pervasive theme right now, layer over layer.

I’m in a place where I’m constantly late. This mama, who was “teacher trained” to be on time and to follow a schedule, can’t get her child to school before the bell rings.

I can’t read. This ferocious reader can barely read a paragraph. I haven’t picked up a book in months.

Form filling has now been passed over to Sexy Neck. I used to get a rush from filling out forms. The completion. The finality. The knowing of all the answers. Now, I could care less.

I used to love to organize: people, events and thinking about special gifts to buy. Now I have no energy or need or want to organize anything or anyone or to buy a single thing.

We are living with the bare necessities and having great conversations talking about needs and wants.

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Every day I wake up and wonder, What the hell happened?

It’s like a tsunami has ravaged my expectations, the sense of control and my relationship with my mom. There is debris everywhere containing everything she did with us, for us and just the huge ways she was a part of our everyday life. There are also huge chunks of debris involving my dad’s life, his retirement and their plans together. We get to see, move, feel and touch these pieces of debris every day.

It is exhausting.

Mind blowing.

Devastating.

I know that I am in denial as I can’t even talk with my mom, ponder where she is or even contemplate that I, Steve nor my children will have my mom in our lives again.

I sit in this beginning stage rowing through the waves of grief. I am going to give myself this time to do my ‘work’! As my counsellor tells me, I can do my work now or later, but I will have to go through it one day.

I am choosing each day to sit.

To ponder.

To wonder.

To cry.

To be.

Just enough, each day!

cancer, Grief

Be Wanting To Call Papa and Nana

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Here’s the conversation we had when two year old OC told me he wanted to call Papa and then Nana on the telephone. Papa was up cross country skiing, so I knew he was out of cell range. My dear, ever-present mom died on Boxing Day.

OC, who do you want to talk to on the phone? (YouTube video link!)

Sweet child working out his sadness of why he can’t call his Nana. These are his very own words.

I was Surprised!

I was humbled!

I am amazed!