The Fight is Over.

Hunter's Dad & Brother,  1/22/13

Yesterday Hunter's Dad's long battle with cancer 

finally came to an end.

He passed away at home in his bed.

My heart is full of love for this family, 

and full of sadness for their pain and loss.

It's Not Enough

I'm not posting this from my High Horse.  I'm posting this as much as a reminder for myself as a suggestion to my readers.

It's Not Enough to say to a friend, "you know you're welcome to come over and visit any time".
You need to say "Hey, I'd like you to come over for dinner this week.  Is Wednesday good for you?"
Maintaining relationships with friends and family is important.  Casual 'stop by anytime' throw-out statements are not conducive to that.

It's Not Enough to say to your aging parents, "I'm going to come visit as soon as I have time".  You won't have time.  You MUST make time.  You never know when time will run out.

It's Not Enough to say "let me know if there's anything I can do for you" when someone is going through a terribly difficult time or a loss.  For most people, they won't do it. Even if they have a need, they won't call.  They don't want to be a burden.  When Hunter's Dad's health took this recent bad turn, at first I asked that question to Hunter's mom..."let me know how I can help".  Of course she didn't.  So I told Hunter to ask her if they would be home on Tuesday night.  She said yes.  I made dinner and Hunter and I took it over and we all ate together.  (except his dad, who is no longer eating.)
Just show up.  And if you see a need - offer to help specifically.  Don't say "If you need someone to take care of the dog while you're at radiation appointments for several hours, call me".  Say "When is the next radiation appointment?  OK, I'll be here to take care of the dog."

I don't think there are very many people who sit at a funeral thinking "Man, I spent WAY too much time with this dude.  Sure wish I'd made less time for him in my life while he was still living....."

Losing.

A few years ago, when I worked at The Other Hospital, I had a friend named Matt.  He was a nurse on my unit.  He was funny, friendly, and incredibly nice.  Shortly after he started, I made a comment about being cold (it's a hospital, I was always cold) and he offered me his jacket.  We were both married, and he wasn't flirting; just a simple but sweet gesture that I still remember years later.

A few months before I left The Other Hospital, Matt received tragic news.  His brother had died in a car accident.  Matt is young, in his late twenties; his brother was around the same age.  Matt was out of work for a short time and when he came back, he was very quiet - understandably.  He stayed in his nursing alcove and had very little interaction with anyone except for his patients.  We all understood and gave him his space.

But the old Matt never returned.  He would occasionally smile again, but it was the kind of smile that didn't make it to his eyes.  He never cracked jokes, and rarely reacted when someone else did.  His grief was palpable; it sort of hung in the air around him.  It was heartbreaking.

Today, I saw Matt for the first time since I left The Other Hospital.  He was at "My" Hospital, visiting someone who was a patient there.  And he smiled when he saw me, and stopped and chatted with me for several minutes.  He was pleasant and kind.  But still, over two years later, that haunted look is still in his eyes.  I don't think Matt will ever recover from the loss of his brother.

There's no other love like the love for a brother.  
There's no other love like the love from a brother.  
~Terri Guillemets

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now my mother is facing the loss of a sibling - again.  My mother is one of five children.  She is the youngest girl, and second to youngest child.  But there are only three children left.  My mother's baby brother died several years ago, as did one of her sisters.  The three sisters left were very close.  For many years, they went to gospel singings together at least twice a year; sharing a hotel room and enjoying sister time.

The oldest sister has been sick for several years; emphysema/COPD, chronic bronchitis, etc. (a lifelong smoker).  She is also one of the sweetest, kindest people you could ever want to meet.

And now, at the age of 78, my aunt has taken a dramatic turn for the worse.  She's in an ICU, being kept alive until all of her children can gather to say goodbye.  My mother will head up to see her tomorrow (she's in another town about four hours away).

My mother has already lost two siblings; and now, barring some miracle, she will lose a third.

Another loss that one just never fully recovers from.

Our brothers and sisters are there with us 
from the dawn of our personal stories 
to the inevitable dusk.  
~Susan Scarf Merrell

Remembering CJ

I've posted here before about my dear bloggy friend Hallie, who lost her beloved son, CJ, to suicide.

Hallie & her family are never far from my thoughts. I can't even wrap my head around what she has been through, what her life is like now.

I can tell you that it has affected my relationship with my children, particularly my son, and his friends. I don't tiptoe around, fearful of doing or saying the wrong thing....but I am mindful. Mindful that suicide does happen. Nobody is immune, and it happens to those you would least expect it to. I try to make sure my children know that no matter what, I love them unconditionally, and they can always come to me with their problems. I don't want to lose them and then wonder if they knew how much I loved them.

Recently, one of my son's friends came to me at a low period in his life. Like a lot of kids his age (19), he's trying to figure out where he fits in in the world, and what he wants to do with his life, and he was feeling like he wasn't in a very good place in life. I tried to choose my words so carefully, to encourage him that it was normal for him to be at this place at this time. And to encourage him to find his passion in life, set goals, and go for it. But most of all to let him know that I love him unconditionally for who he is. He has two wonderful parents who love him that way too, but sometimes kids think "they're my parents, they have to love me". I wanted him to know that I CHOOSE to love him that much, because he deserves it, and because he's smart and kind and amazing. Did I change his life, or even make a huge difference? I don't know. He was very sweet and thankful. We talked for hours over two days. I only hope and pray that I helped him in some way. I also hope and pray that my kids can come to me at times like that, and if not me, someone else who will encourage them and pull them through.

That being said, Hallie is doing a fundraiser in honor of her beloved CJ, and I wanted to bring attention to that here. It's a raffle and for every dollar you donate, you get a chance to win one of 16 different prize packages.

Hallie's Fundraiser

Hallie, I will never, ever forget you or CJ. I send you my love.

If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

The first time I heard this song, I was driving in my car. It was one of the rare times I was alone, and I was glad, because I literally had to park the car and just give in to the tears that were overtaking me.

I hope you'll listen to the song, but it's about what life would be like if heaven wasn't so far away. How we could pack up the kids to visit their grandparents, let long-lost relatives know how their children are doing here on earth, and how "losing them wouldn't be so hard to take, if heaven wasn't so far away".

All I could think of when I heard it was who I would visit, if heaven wasn't so far away.

The first person I thought of was John's firstborn son, who passed away shortly after his birth. I know that John would also want to visit his own father, who died about 10 years ago.

Then I thought of my children's paternal grandmother. My ex-husband's mother passed away in 1993. She gave birth to five boys, four who survived, and always wanted a daughter. When she passed away, she only had two grandsons. I know she would be so happy to meet my daughters, as well as her other granddaughters who have been born since she passed.

I would love to see my Uncle Gene again. He was my father's oldest brother, and almost like a father to him.

All of my grandparents have passed away, and I would love to visit them once more.

One of the hardest losses I've experienced is that of my cousin. He was in his 30's and had recently moved back to our town. He visited our family often. Then one night, he was tragically struck by a car and killed.

Another tragic loss was that of my mother's best friend, who took her own life. I wish she could see her daughter now that she's grown up, and I would love for her to meet her only grandson.

Honestly, there are so many more, so many people that I have loved and lost and would love to visit, even just one last time.

Who would you want to see, if heaven wasn't so far away?