Guest Post:
After my Cancer diagnosis I became more aware of those around me who suffered with different forms of this dreaded disease. My breast cancer, though frightening to me, was much less severe than the cases of many people I knew.
Dave, one of my lifelong friends from high school, lived right around the corner from me. He was diagnosed with an aggressive form of liver cancer in the month of May and was dead by mid September. He loved company so we visited him often. My grandchildren remember the time we took him a watermelon, at his request, after one of our fishing trips. He was a gregarious sort of guy who was loved by many people. As he grew weaker, I would quietly sit by his side and hold his hand until he went to sleep. I treasure this memory of sharing many of his last waking moments with him. While I ached for him and his family, I was filled with a deep and silent gratitude that my own cancer was discovered early and was much more manageable.
My father had colon cancer over 33 years ago, before anyone knew what a colonoscopy was. The surgery was a success and he is fine now. As a result, we are all scanned regularly, we never miss. He has also had prostate cancer and recovered well from yet another surgery. His one wish was to be able to care for my mother until she died, which he was able to do in fine style.
My mother's cancer was much slower moving. She suffered from Multiple Myeloma, cancer of the bone marrow. Unlike Dave's fast moving cancer, hers progressed much slower and was brutally painful. Her bones slowly rotted away until her Femur broke one morning as she was getting out of bed. I watched this vibrant, capable woman slowly waste away to nothing, weighing less than one hundred pounds when she died. I remember well the evening she left my son, Matthew's wedding. As my father rolled her away in her wheelchair, My youngest son, Nick, fell into my arms and cried as if his heart would break. He knew her time was short and it hit him hard because he spent most of his teenage years living in their home along with me.
I have found that cancer is like a dark cloud, robbing us of those we love. But, like most dark clouds there is a silver lining. The last moments we spend with our loved ones become some of the best we have with them. During my mother's last two weeks we slowed down life's frantic pace, laying aside, jobs, obligations and other unnecessary pressures. We made time to be together; we took time to laugh; we enjoyed time to share; we created time to bond, and benefited greatly from time to deepen relationships. These last precious moments together were cancer's gift to us.
-Kathy Christensen
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Thursday, April 5, 2012
THURSDAY THOUGHTS - Mom's Chair Will Be Waiting
Guest Post:
Last weekend Ron and I visited my father in St. George for LDS General Conference. This was our first visit since my mother's funeral about 10 weeks ago. She died of cancer of the bone marrow on January 15 of this year. I was somewhat uneasy as we neared St. George because I really didn't know what emotions would surface. I am happy to report that I was pleasantly surprised.
Some things were very different. My mother would always call us about three hours into the trip and say "Where are You?" That call, of course, was missing this time. Also, the last time we were there, the 1200 square foot condo was full of people preparing their assignments for her funeral. My brothers were practicing musical numbers as were my sister and I. This trip, my dad's sweaty old San Francisco 49ers baseball cap laid quietly on top of the piano keyboard, leaving me to think that the piano had not been used since then. When Ron and I arrived, the house was quiet. While Mom was alive, the TV was always on very loud because she couldn't hear well. We sat down and Daddy turned on the 10:00 news. I laughed as he fumbled with the TV remotes to their new HDTV, saying they were worse to operate than the control boards of a B-747! I am the same way. Mom was always better at this sort of thing. When the news came on, we realized that we had missed a Jazz game where they played Jimmer's team, the Sacramento Kings, and lost by one point. I looked at Daddy, and said in all seriousness, "You would NEVER have missed that game if Mom was still here!"
But some things were the same. The refrigerator was full of 8oz. Cokes. They were the perfect size for Mother. When she was here, they had them timed in the freezer for 37 minutes... just the right time to make them slushy. Now Daddy just puts them in a cup full of ice. Although there were not many people there, the treat counter was full of almonds, trail mix, mini Snicker bars, honey roasted peanuts, Tootsie Rolls, Fritos, and Chex Mix, as my father said to me in a woeful tone... "I have gained 10 pounds!"
I smiled as I entered the small guest bedroom where I found on the couch at least $50 worth of new yarn Daddy had purchased to make hats for the humanitarian group in his neighborhood. Beside the yarn were several circular looms used to create hats of different sized for those in need. Daddy uses two colors just like Mom taught him to and he has two Tupperware pitchers (on gallon size) where he keeps the yarn so it doesn't tangle while he works. I asked Daddy where he purchased the yarn and almost laughed out loud when he answered, "I avoid Walmart because the colors aren't as nice, so I pay more and go to JoAnn's." On the fridge there were several sticky notes taped on top of another with numbers on them. Daddy smiled proudly as he told me... "I have reached a milestone... 1003 hats, and that is just since I have been keeping track!" I was amazed.
Mom's clothes were gone so the walk in closet in their bedroom looked empty. Dad has four pair of walking shoes, two pair of dress shoes and assorted sweat pants and T Shirts. He has never been much for fancy clothes; he owns enough to look presentable on Sunday at church... that is all. They used to doze off and on through General Conference (don't we all?) and it was comforting to hear him snore from time to time. Mother's chair sat empty all the while we were there. The last years of her life were spent in that chair. To me, it seemed to be an unspoken reality that it is still hallowed ground... at least for now. Daddy has also mastered the art of keeping the bills paid and sending cards with $5 bills in them to each grandchild and great grandchild on their birthdays. Both of these skills were taught to him by my mother.
In "Tuesdays with Morrie", there is a wonderful quote where Morrie states: "As long as we can love each other and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here... Death ends a life, not a relationship."
I was pleased to feel in my parents' home, a peace that was almost tangible. I brushed a few tears away as Daddy told me, "Sometimes when I doze off, I awaken and feel that Mother has been here just for a brief moment. This home is an endeared and treasured place because she is near."
I am happy to report that on Saturday, we watched the Jazz game as well as the NCAA semifinals. Mom would have been proud even though the Clippers won. As Ron and I left for home, I felt wonderfully peaceful inside about Daddy. He is happy, contented and functioning well. He complete hat #1004 during the last session on Conference and I'm sure #1005 will be completed in no time. Mom's chair will be waiting for me when I visit again... and who knos? I may even sit in it then.
-Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member, Lifting Hearts
Last weekend Ron and I visited my father in St. George for LDS General Conference. This was our first visit since my mother's funeral about 10 weeks ago. She died of cancer of the bone marrow on January 15 of this year. I was somewhat uneasy as we neared St. George because I really didn't know what emotions would surface. I am happy to report that I was pleasantly surprised.
Some things were very different. My mother would always call us about three hours into the trip and say "Where are You?" That call, of course, was missing this time. Also, the last time we were there, the 1200 square foot condo was full of people preparing their assignments for her funeral. My brothers were practicing musical numbers as were my sister and I. This trip, my dad's sweaty old San Francisco 49ers baseball cap laid quietly on top of the piano keyboard, leaving me to think that the piano had not been used since then. When Ron and I arrived, the house was quiet. While Mom was alive, the TV was always on very loud because she couldn't hear well. We sat down and Daddy turned on the 10:00 news. I laughed as he fumbled with the TV remotes to their new HDTV, saying they were worse to operate than the control boards of a B-747! I am the same way. Mom was always better at this sort of thing. When the news came on, we realized that we had missed a Jazz game where they played Jimmer's team, the Sacramento Kings, and lost by one point. I looked at Daddy, and said in all seriousness, "You would NEVER have missed that game if Mom was still here!"
But some things were the same. The refrigerator was full of 8oz. Cokes. They were the perfect size for Mother. When she was here, they had them timed in the freezer for 37 minutes... just the right time to make them slushy. Now Daddy just puts them in a cup full of ice. Although there were not many people there, the treat counter was full of almonds, trail mix, mini Snicker bars, honey roasted peanuts, Tootsie Rolls, Fritos, and Chex Mix, as my father said to me in a woeful tone... "I have gained 10 pounds!"
I smiled as I entered the small guest bedroom where I found on the couch at least $50 worth of new yarn Daddy had purchased to make hats for the humanitarian group in his neighborhood. Beside the yarn were several circular looms used to create hats of different sized for those in need. Daddy uses two colors just like Mom taught him to and he has two Tupperware pitchers (on gallon size) where he keeps the yarn so it doesn't tangle while he works. I asked Daddy where he purchased the yarn and almost laughed out loud when he answered, "I avoid Walmart because the colors aren't as nice, so I pay more and go to JoAnn's." On the fridge there were several sticky notes taped on top of another with numbers on them. Daddy smiled proudly as he told me... "I have reached a milestone... 1003 hats, and that is just since I have been keeping track!" I was amazed.
Mom's clothes were gone so the walk in closet in their bedroom looked empty. Dad has four pair of walking shoes, two pair of dress shoes and assorted sweat pants and T Shirts. He has never been much for fancy clothes; he owns enough to look presentable on Sunday at church... that is all. They used to doze off and on through General Conference (don't we all?) and it was comforting to hear him snore from time to time. Mother's chair sat empty all the while we were there. The last years of her life were spent in that chair. To me, it seemed to be an unspoken reality that it is still hallowed ground... at least for now. Daddy has also mastered the art of keeping the bills paid and sending cards with $5 bills in them to each grandchild and great grandchild on their birthdays. Both of these skills were taught to him by my mother.
In "Tuesdays with Morrie", there is a wonderful quote where Morrie states: "As long as we can love each other and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here... Death ends a life, not a relationship."
I was pleased to feel in my parents' home, a peace that was almost tangible. I brushed a few tears away as Daddy told me, "Sometimes when I doze off, I awaken and feel that Mother has been here just for a brief moment. This home is an endeared and treasured place because she is near."
I am happy to report that on Saturday, we watched the Jazz game as well as the NCAA semifinals. Mom would have been proud even though the Clippers won. As Ron and I left for home, I felt wonderfully peaceful inside about Daddy. He is happy, contented and functioning well. He complete hat #1004 during the last session on Conference and I'm sure #1005 will be completed in no time. Mom's chair will be waiting for me when I visit again... and who knos? I may even sit in it then.
-Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member, Lifting Hearts
Thursday, January 26, 2012
THURSDAY THOUGHTS - What Cancer Cannot Do
Guest Post from Kathy Christensen...
This past week my mother died and as we cared for her during her last moments, I learned, in a most powerful way, a principle I was not aware of before. Although we and she) knew her time was close, there was indeed an element of free agency as to when she actually crossed over. During her last days she was obviously communicating to those loved ones who had passed before her. She seemed somewhat agitated and anxious; as if she was torn between going there, and staying here. She finally graduated from this life on January 15, 2012.
I honestly had no idea how much I would miss her. I miss our morning calls each morning; I miss seeing her crochet hats with those gnarled little hands; I miss hearing her say, “I just have to ‘keep on keepin’ on!” as she faced the challenges of her failing health. Her last days were filled with pain, but she chose to make the best of a most difficult situation.
Now as we all make the difficult adjustment of moving ahead without her, we also have our free agency as to how we will proceed. During my first two days back at work, I was barely functional. I felt hollow, displaced and just plain sad. The discomfort I felt (and still feel) is almost tangible. But just as my mother chose to handle Multiple Myeloma (Cancer of the bone marrow) with a positive attitude, I must choose to function and thrive here as she would want me to do. With support from my husband, siblings, children, friends, Lifting Hearts, and God I will do just that.
I want to share with you some thoughts that were on a fridge magnet I purchased at a Lifting Hearts Cancer fair in October because I feel they are most fitting for this entry:
I never expected to miss my mom this much, but I will “keep on keepin’ on just like she did, as I choose limit the power that Cancer has in my own life.
Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member of Lifting Hearts
Kathy -
We are so sorry to hear about your mom's passing. We feel like we've been a small part of the last little bit of her life, so thank you for that. And thank you for sharing your most personal feelings with us. You truly are lifting our hearts.
-Kara
This past week my mother died and as we cared for her during her last moments, I learned, in a most powerful way, a principle I was not aware of before. Although we and she) knew her time was close, there was indeed an element of free agency as to when she actually crossed over. During her last days she was obviously communicating to those loved ones who had passed before her. She seemed somewhat agitated and anxious; as if she was torn between going there, and staying here. She finally graduated from this life on January 15, 2012.
I honestly had no idea how much I would miss her. I miss our morning calls each morning; I miss seeing her crochet hats with those gnarled little hands; I miss hearing her say, “I just have to ‘keep on keepin’ on!” as she faced the challenges of her failing health. Her last days were filled with pain, but she chose to make the best of a most difficult situation.
Now as we all make the difficult adjustment of moving ahead without her, we also have our free agency as to how we will proceed. During my first two days back at work, I was barely functional. I felt hollow, displaced and just plain sad. The discomfort I felt (and still feel) is almost tangible. But just as my mother chose to handle Multiple Myeloma (Cancer of the bone marrow) with a positive attitude, I must choose to function and thrive here as she would want me to do. With support from my husband, siblings, children, friends, Lifting Hearts, and God I will do just that.
I want to share with you some thoughts that were on a fridge magnet I purchased at a Lifting Hearts Cancer fair in October because I feel they are most fitting for this entry:
WHAT CANCER CANNOT DO
Cancer is so limited….
It cannot cripple love
It cannot shatter hope
It cannot corrode faith
It cannot destroy peace
It cannot kill friendship
It cannot suppress memories
It cannot silence courage
It cannot invade the soul
It cannot steal eternal life
It cannot conquer the spirit
Cancer is so limited….
It cannot cripple love
It cannot shatter hope
It cannot corrode faith
It cannot destroy peace
It cannot kill friendship
It cannot suppress memories
It cannot silence courage
It cannot invade the soul
It cannot steal eternal life
It cannot conquer the spirit
I never expected to miss my mom this much, but I will “keep on keepin’ on just like she did, as I choose limit the power that Cancer has in my own life.
Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member of Lifting Hearts
Kathy -
We are so sorry to hear about your mom's passing. We feel like we've been a small part of the last little bit of her life, so thank you for that. And thank you for sharing your most personal feelings with us. You truly are lifting our hearts.
-Kara
Thursday, January 12, 2012
THURSDAY THOUGHTS - Fox Hole Buddies
This week has been one of the most difficult yet most memorable weeks of my life. I have been
in Ivins, Utah at the home of my parents with our family to spend our last moments with my mother. She has suffered for many years with Multiple Myeloma (Cancer of the bone marrow) and she is very near death. The disease has taken a once vibrant and healthy woman down to almost nothing. Mother always wanted to be thin and she had tried her entire life to achieve that goal. Cancer has taken her beyond thin to emaciated. As we gathered around around the hospital bed in her home I sensed an incredible unity in our family. I was among the best fox hole buddies that could be found anywhere in the world.
Fox hole buddies don't care what you look like; They don't care how much money you have; They don't care how much you weigh or how you dress; They don't care what your differneces are; They don't care how big your house is or where you live; Our foxhole was different than most others. We were all together in a 1200 square foot home which my brother affectionately named "The Command Post." From this base we kept all members of our forces connected and updated on what we came to call "Operation Linger."
Most foxholes fight against enemies such as bullets, bombs and other forms of artillery. We had one enemy plain and simple and that was PAIN. Our weapons were morphine (pill and liquid form), Lortab,and Lorazapam(liquid and pills). We were dressed better than the rag tag armies in the Civil War, but our forces stood united and strong with prayer, strong faith and unified love for our mother. I am sure that we ate better than any one in any foxholes I have ever heard of. Daddy's snack counter expanded and retreated according to the number of our forces who were present. During the weekend we were all together we had ample supplies of Crunch and Munch, Cheetos, Fritos, Pecan Sandies, licorice, almonds, snack crackers, trailmix, and most importantly an endless supply of Coke Classic in the fridge. After all, members of any command post must be well nourished right?
Fox hole buddies "have your back." When one is tired or not at his best, another stands up to take his place. We had enough of us to do that for each other. Some of us had to get back to our jobs, so others came to replace them when they had to leave. Throughout this entire experience our forces remained strong, making sure that Daddy didn't have to face the end alone. After 61 years of marriage, we knew the end would be more difficult for him than for any of us.
As write this entry, it is my 59th birthday and the battle is still going on. I don't know when it will end, although for our mother's sake, we hope it will be soon. However, this has been one of the sweetest and most bonding experiences of my entire life. How therapeutic it is has been to put away past differences and to unite in the most noble of all missions....to send our mother on to the next life with no regrets. I feel that the most important Commander of all is looking down on us with a big smile.
Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member of Lifting Hearts
**Our hearts and prayers are with Kathy and her family at this time. Kathy - thanks so much for your dedication to us and this blog, for sharing your personal thoughts, and allowing us a glimpse of your wonderful life. We love you.
-Lifting Hearts Members
in Ivins, Utah at the home of my parents with our family to spend our last moments with my mother. She has suffered for many years with Multiple Myeloma (Cancer of the bone marrow) and she is very near death. The disease has taken a once vibrant and healthy woman down to almost nothing. Mother always wanted to be thin and she had tried her entire life to achieve that goal. Cancer has taken her beyond thin to emaciated. As we gathered around around the hospital bed in her home I sensed an incredible unity in our family. I was among the best fox hole buddies that could be found anywhere in the world.
Fox hole buddies don't care what you look like; They don't care how much money you have; They don't care how much you weigh or how you dress; They don't care what your differneces are; They don't care how big your house is or where you live; Our foxhole was different than most others. We were all together in a 1200 square foot home which my brother affectionately named "The Command Post." From this base we kept all members of our forces connected and updated on what we came to call "Operation Linger."
Most foxholes fight against enemies such as bullets, bombs and other forms of artillery. We had one enemy plain and simple and that was PAIN. Our weapons were morphine (pill and liquid form), Lortab,and Lorazapam(liquid and pills). We were dressed better than the rag tag armies in the Civil War, but our forces stood united and strong with prayer, strong faith and unified love for our mother. I am sure that we ate better than any one in any foxholes I have ever heard of. Daddy's snack counter expanded and retreated according to the number of our forces who were present. During the weekend we were all together we had ample supplies of Crunch and Munch, Cheetos, Fritos, Pecan Sandies, licorice, almonds, snack crackers, trailmix, and most importantly an endless supply of Coke Classic in the fridge. After all, members of any command post must be well nourished right?
Fox hole buddies "have your back." When one is tired or not at his best, another stands up to take his place. We had enough of us to do that for each other. Some of us had to get back to our jobs, so others came to replace them when they had to leave. Throughout this entire experience our forces remained strong, making sure that Daddy didn't have to face the end alone. After 61 years of marriage, we knew the end would be more difficult for him than for any of us.
As write this entry, it is my 59th birthday and the battle is still going on. I don't know when it will end, although for our mother's sake, we hope it will be soon. However, this has been one of the sweetest and most bonding experiences of my entire life. How therapeutic it is has been to put away past differences and to unite in the most noble of all missions....to send our mother on to the next life with no regrets. I feel that the most important Commander of all is looking down on us with a big smile.
Kathy Christensen
Survivor
Member of Lifting Hearts
**Our hearts and prayers are with Kathy and her family at this time. Kathy - thanks so much for your dedication to us and this blog, for sharing your personal thoughts, and allowing us a glimpse of your wonderful life. We love you.
-Lifting Hearts Members
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