Tales of a papa's girl

2 years and one day

2012-01-02T02:48:00.000-08:00

dear papa,

yesterday marked 2 years since you have been gone... and guess what.. we made it once again in tact.. of course the whole day and day before i was entirely conscious of what day it was.. and of course i missed you just as i always have.. but the pain was absent.. the emptiness in my stomach.. the feeling of the ground being pulled out from under me.. wasn't there.. just the realization that we made it two years.. then there was hope...

the first year you were gone felt like a walking nightmare.. my head and heart just couldn't move forward.. i felt stuck.. it was a really hard year to say the least..

the second year felt.. for lack of a better word.. different.. you were missed for all 365 days.. but we all woke up from the nightmare and began to live again...albeit with some difficulty but no where near like it was the first year...

now we are beginning our 3rd year.. and i feel hopeful..i know that this year i will begin a real career.. mom will find some kind of fulfillment.. my brother will embrace responsibility and adulthood.. i feel this will all happen because our grief will not hold us back this year.. and this is what you would have wanted.. the best for us..

in everything i do you are with me.. every moment of my day i think of you.. every holiday or quiet time.. you are missed.. that will never change dad.. but know that your family is okay.. feel free to look down on us now.. we are ready!

your daughter

christmas 2011

2011-12-24T08:07:00.000-08:00

how many of you remember my dad during his one really fat year? out of no where he got super fat.. then the next year it was gone...some men buy sports cars or get hair plugs in a midlife crisis..my dad ate.. apparently..anyway..this photo is from that christmas...as for me. well.. footie pajamas don't do any one much justice..haha...

so this is christmas.. our second without my papa.. i never thought we would get here..there is evidence of healing in all of us..i see it mostly in the way we have been able to remember and celebrate without too much pain.. he is missed.. and thought of daily. hourly really.. but without that ever present lump in the back of the chest.. well..for the most part..it is an amazement that we as humans are able to over come what felt like the end of our world.. and we do so.. for him..

this year we celebrated christmas a day early.. so last night..the 23rd was our christmas eve.. and as i write this i am waiting for famiy to arrive to begin our christmas day..some people are bucking this slight change.. but i am loving it.. it is extending christmas a whole day!

some events of note have taken place since i last updated.. my brother was in a car accident.. his first.. and for a while we thought his truck.. my dad's truck.. would be deemed :totalled:..thank God it was not.. and we got it back this week! my brother asked a few days after the accident what i thought dad would say.. well.. my dad was patient.. and a man of few words.. and the accident wasn't his fault.. and was in truth.. an accident.. i am not sure my dad would have had any words of wisdom to say at all... maybe a tisk or two at the state of the truck.. but that's it..

we do that a lot.. my family.. we wonder and day dream of what it would be like to have him here.. what he would say..what he would do.. even in the middle of some pretty vulgar toilet humor.. of which i am quite partial to..we laugh harder knowing he would laugh...

have a wonderful holiday readers! use christmas..not as a gift giving tinsel ladden day.. and not even as a commemeration in a religious sense.. just be with those you love.. and love a little harder..in honor of my daddy!

life getting in the way..it's a good thing

2011-11-06T08:25:00.003-08:00

i have neglected so much lately... sleep...health...a social life.. this blog...most of my house responsibilities..and so much more.. and for what? i can't think of what it was that had me so occupied.. i did start a new job.. the shift in my natural sleep all day schedule really threw me for a loop.. but really my neglect had to do with life getting in the way.. and that's a good thing.. i don't want to dwell on my ongoing grief to the point where i need to unload on this blog on a daily basis.. and i like the informational sprinkled narrative that it has become... that is not to say that i am not entitled to break downs.. and that those break downs will not become public at some point.. life includes grief.. the emptiness is still there.. i don't suppose that will ever go away.. i can' live with that.. but i appreciate the pain coming in shorter waves and spaced in such a way that i can live the life my papa would have relished in watching me/us live...

fall has brought so much to attention.. the dying leaves look so beautiful just before they fall.. they become mulch for the grass growing below.. it is a grand display of the circle that is life.. i really did not mean to make that sound so sappily poetic.. really i didn't...but it does bring to mind the beauty behind death...it's hidden but it's there.. because if we don't let death bring us to the depths.. we become more beautiful.. if we chose to learn and grow from the pain we can nourish everything we fall upon like the leaves on the grass... ok now i am just making myself sick..blah blah blah...

so this past week marked dia de los muertos... we have never had that type of mexican culture where we would have celebrated in this.. i think it had much to do with us not being catholic as well.. but it is a wonderful thing to see and take part in..if you never have.. i don't make alters.. but i do bake.. and paint.. and fold flowers every year... i like the idea of it.. the symbolism of it.. the celebratory part of it.. if you are not familiar with day of the dead do yourself a favor and learn about it.. it is not the Americanized "mexican halloween" the craft stores tote it to be.. it is a celebration of those who have passed.. it celebrated the sweetness of life and it's brevity... i find a lot of comfort in ceremony and symbolism... maybe because i live so far from my family and miss out on the daily ceremony of family life..that i feel the need to hold onto what is around me and familiar..anyway it's not something i have thought about too consciously...

my aunt called me the other day to ask some advice (i am an autism whisperer of sorts)...anyway.. toward the end of the conversation she made mention of my papa and compared me to him... it was so nice to hear and while she may not have known it..it was something i needed to hear that day.. it wasn't a hard day..i was just feeling a bit far.. a bit lost.. patient a wise is what she called me.. and i can only hope to have half of what my dad had..

so it has been quite a few weeks... and much like every other day in the life of this papa's girl... my dad was entwined in it all...

Cancer Groups- a special message

2011-10-14T12:50:00.000-07:00

i was recently contacted by a man who asked to post a message on this blog to get the word out on some information he felt was important.. because all of my past guest bloggers have been family.. i will be honest in saying i put this poor guy through the ringer because i would never endorse certain information.. i finally got around to reading this guest post and some of his personal blog.. and i feel confident in sharing whatever he wants to send out to you all.. he has nothing but postive things to share and this particular message is about fellowship and support via groups...

fyi.. if you would like to guest blog..about cancer and/or loss.. please email me at amberumen@yahoo.com

David Haas is a cancer patient advocate and his blog can be found at haasblaag.blogspot.com/

Have you just found out you have cancer? You may know someone who has survived. Are you in cancer remission? You may be going through chemotherapy or radiation treatment. If any of these things are true in your life, you may feel as though nobody can relate to what you are going to. If you become involved with a cancer survivor group you will have the chance to talk with or write to someone who has been through the same things as you. You can learn how to best treat your disease and get advice from those who have been there, who can teach you how to best fight the negative side effects you may be experiencing.

There are a variety of cancer survivor networks available. The Cancer Hope Network is one such network. Through them you can be matched with someone who has been through cancer treatment, who may be going through something similar to you. This group can match you with people who have gone through anything from a common cancer like breast cancer to a very rare cancer like mesothelioma. You can receive emotional support and encouragement online or over the phone. Actual cancer survivors will tell the stories, will tell you it is possible to live a full live despite having cancer. You will not be talking with someone who is a professional therapist, but with someone who knows just what you are going through.

There is also support provided for caregivers and links to different agencies that might be able to give advice on treatments.

The Cancer Information Network provides links to a variety of support helps to cancer victims, including a letter from a survivor of lung cancer, a link to the Cancer Hope Network, and links to other agencies that provide support. There are also links to sites that give information on treatment, legal issues, financial resources to those with cancer, and support resources for caregivers.

There are numerous other support agencies, including US & Too for those with prostrate cancer at ustoo.com, with links to many support groups, information about the disease, and more.

The American Brain Tumor Organization lists support groups, provides inspiring stories, advice on how to manage fatigue, rehabilitative medicine, speech pathology services, and many other resources.

While having cancer can be devastating, there is help available.

By: David Haas

MIA

2011-10-04T13:58:00.000-07:00

this was my brother's birthday cake.. my cousin decided on the picture of him in the bathtub.. no worries..he is hard to embarrass.. and bonus.. the cake was yummy!

so it's been a while since i posted.. a day before his 18th birthday.. a day before i flew out to AZ and surprised him.. not only is he hard to embarrass..he is also hard to surprise... well ok.. he was surprised.. but the reaction was more like "hey what are you doing here?" and not AHHHHH!!! combined with jumping up and down.. and good thing too.. because he is a big guy now.. and i could likely be hurt in the jumping up and down process.. either way i missed him and my family and this trip was exactly what i... or we... needed..

we had a small get together for his day.. my mom hired mariachis and some friends and family came to wish him well.. i have gotten past coming to my mom's house and not seeing my dad there.. i don't look for him anymore.. but as the mariachis sang Un Dia La Ves.. (one day at a time).. my eyes welled up and i frantically looked around.. and expected to see him in one of the patio chairs.. or at the grill.. there was that fresh pain all over again.. the one i pray God eases..memories i gladly accept.. sadness i will take in stride.. but this pain.. this ache in my rib cage and nausea in the deepest pit of me is what i call fresh pain... because that is what i felt when the C word was first used.. that is what i felt again after every dr visit.. that is what i felt on the morning he did not get out of bed and that is what i feel when the ice cold water bucket full of shock is thrown in my face every time i forget he is gone... i am still great.. fantastic even at hiding this pain... i sang and danced to every song the mariachis sang.. when my aunt (during un dia la ves) asked why i wasn't singing.. i calmly leaned over and said "because i'm crying".. instead of crawling into the fetal position at her feet..that was the only down part of the trip.. for the most part we faced this milestone with grace.. and it's never as hard as we expect it to be

after i got home from HOME i lagged.. as i always do.. in unpacking and re-acclimating.. i always allow myself one day to wallow and feel the homesickness.. i had a few job interviews.. in fact..the week before last i was offered a job... so i have a job... well.. technically.. because HR has been just peachy and has left me hanging... it's all good in my hood though.. because this is giving me plenty of time to weigh my priorities and examine myself.. this is not a teaching job but is within the school system and i have had to work out and work on my feelings of bitterness and inadequacy.. i can not go into this job feeling short changed.. it would not be fair to the students i will be working with.. so HR's mishaps are a blessing really... and i has given time to see it that way... in all this mess i have been broken and built up over and over.. i have cried and screamed and let out all kinds of rage i didn't know i had been suppressing.. and you know what? nothing changed..the world didn't bend toward my needs.. and there is a lesson in there too..

and that is what i have been doing since i got home.. examining the things that happen to me and around me.. understanding the lessons it all has to teach me.. what i have learned is this: 1. i need a master's degree and i am seriously considering social work so that i can consult as well as teach... 2. every day is precious time lost with the people i care about the most and i NEED to get home or close to home for good...3. the miles stones we have yet to reach without dad will no doubt be tough.. but we will get through them like we always do..

another milestone

2011-09-13T12:10:00.000-07:00

my brother turns 18 tomorrow... and here we are.. another milestone that our dad will not be here for...he got his licence and his first job within this year.. and now.. the big 18..of course that thought leads to everything else he will not be here for.. his graduation.. wedding.. but.. i didn't want this post to be a sad one...

when our dad's dad died i asked him what kind of father he was and if he was any kind of role model for the kind of dad our papa wanted to be.. he said that his dad was more of a provider than a teacher.. and that he wanted to be both.. then he laughed and said.. "heck..if your brother makes it to 18 i will be happy"..and i think.. well.. you did it dad.. you did your job.. and more.. because he may not be there physically tomorrow.. but his legacy will be present in the form of my brother..when i see the man he is becoming i see my dad.. i see everything he instilled in him..i mean..ok..my brother is far from the man he will someday be.. but i see glimmers and hints.. and i don't worry about him the way i would have before.. i see his potential and i see his heart.. and both are beautiful..

so what now brother bear? what's so big about 18? well here is a list of things you can do after tomorrow:

Buy tobacco

Change your name

Get a tattoo

Get a piercing

Work more hours

Sue someone /Be sued

Purchase liquid white out

Pawn something

Get married/Get divorced

Adopt a child

Be on Jerry Springer

Buy a lottery ticket

Get a hotel room

Call some "900" numbers

Go to a night club

Get a Sam's club/Costco membership

Skydive

Sign legal documents

Gamble

Get a loan

Buy insurance

Donate blood

Enlist in the military

Be convicted as an adult

Become a stripper

Vote

Obtain a credit card

Buy a monkey (w/ a license)

ok.. i didn't say you should do these things... but i totally support the monkey thing!

Book Review- A Sacred Walk: Dispelling the Fear of Death and Caring for the Dying

2011-08-30T11:28:00.000-07:00

A Sacred Walk: Dispelling the Fear of Death and Caring for the Dying

by Donna M. Authers

A & A Publishing, 2008

This is another book that I read to ready me for volunteer work. I started it a month ago but just recently finished it. It was a tough read. So much of it reminded me of my papa that I had to put it down almost as soon as I picked it up. It was difficult to remove myself from it and I didn't want to read it in that mind set. If i say here that I was able to read it and not cry or not think of my dad, it would be a lie.

In this book Donna gives practical advice for any caretaker, caregiver, friend or family member of a person who is dying.

This advice and wisdom comes in the form of personal stories, scripture and practicality. Donna talks about many of the losses she has been through in her life but the one that resonates throughout the book is the loss of her mother. From the moment when her mom learns that her brain tumor is inoperable Donna and her mom begin a journey. Their honesty with each other is beautiful and raw. They struggle together to find meaning, God and closure. What they find instead is strength.

The toughest parts to get through in this book are the conversations and letters shared with each other. It is hardest to keep the tears at bay when her mom says she feels like she is detaching, like she is here and there and the same time, so she knows it is time. Any book on death and grief will tell you that at some point the patient will detach emotionally but to see/hear the words is heart wrenching. In the end Donna's mom passes with dignity and in the most ideal and beautiful way. Subsequently Donna was left with "good grief". This was a wonderful read simply due to the best of a bad situation experienced by the author. Her lessons are very much worth reading, and learning from!

on God.. and faith part 5

2011-08-25T12:24:00.000-07:00

so it's been another time of struggle for me.. i keep praying for patience.. i am seriously lacking.. still no job.. still looking.. still feeling rejected and worrying about student loans and money issues.. and i am trying to have faith that God will provide and will put me where i can be of use.. i read the sermon on the mount for the first time the other day or should i say night.. because i haven't been sleeping.. in it Jesus says "Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?"...

because i am not sleeping i have gotten into this habit in the deepest darkness of the night.. to call up a vision of my dad.. i mean to the very last detail.. i can see every line in his face.. i can see him from the side with his head bent in thought.. i can see him smile and the crinkles in the outer corner of his eyes.. i can smell the mix of dust and leather that clung to him all the time..i see his hands..the callouses and strength within them.. i hear his voice.. his laugh.. i am so terrified of forgetting him that i force myself to do this.. all the while feeling daggers in the pit of my stomach... because i can't hug a vision..when i finally do fall asleep i dream of him... lately my dreams involve goodbyes.. like he is visiting me in Michigan and before i take him to the airport i hang onto his neck and won't let go.. i tell him i love and will miss him and whatever will i do without him.. i tell him how important he is to me.. and i cry and he just holds on to me... i think in my dream i am saying all of the things i should have said to him.. he says it will all be okay.. in this recurring dream i fall asleep instead of taking him to the airport and when i wake up he is gone.. and there is that emptiness i feel when i'm actually awake.. this lost emptiness that comes when my mind remembers he is gone... my mom has shared with me that last week was a tough one for her.. she was feeling it all over again.. grief comes in waves.. we know.. but this was like living through it all over again..it's normal... doesn't make it hurt any less does it?

so because i find myself praying every night and day when i am at my lowest, i think about my dad and his prayers... and today i decided to share something with you all.. what i really want to do is talk to him.. call him and remember the story with him.. maybe talk about faith.. and have those beautiful long philosophical conversations that we used to... i wrote about my dad's faith and what we struggled with when my mom first gave her life to God in this post On God And Faith part 1 some of my favorite conversations with him were while my mom was at one of her bible studies..we talked about prayer and whether it was just collective good "vibes" being sent to someone in need.. and could that healing power be dismissed if we didn't call it prayer.. because sometimes that word scares people.. but somehow "vibes" doesn't...and then there is the dinosaur story that i wasn't going to share here.. but like i said.. this is my way of talking to my dad too..it is my favorite.. and encompasses so many sides of my papa..

one night when my mom was at bible study my dad called me, like he normally would.. sometimes to talk about the weather or just to say hello... at the time he (we) were kind of feeling a little left behind in my mom's new journey.. she wasn't home much.. and my dad was catching glimpses and snippets of conversation.. he attended a few bible studies but this night he said he could never be baptized...i don't hide my worry about religion, denominations and such.. so he knew how i felt.. but proceeded to tell me "they don't believe in dinosaurs!" what? haha "dad, how can they not believe in dinosaurs?" he went on to talk about the evolution controversy and the belief that the earth is not old enough to be dated back to when scientists date dinosaur fossils...and that he just couldn't deny hard proof for faith... NOTE: i have yet to ask anyone within my mom and dad's congregation if they believe in dinosaurs.. this was simply his deduction from things he'd heard..anyway.. we talked for an hour about this dinosaur issue admittedly giggling at the thought of denouncing their existence.. i mean.. seriously?

so, about a year and a half later my dad is baptized and i call to talk to him.. to set my own mind at ease i needed to know.. was he tying up lose ends here? was he scared? what brought him to this decision? (at this time he is sick and not doing well).. he says it was just something he felt he wanted/needed to do.. he had been attending church and bible studies for some time before this.. this was not an abrupt decision..then he cupped his hand over the phone and whispered.."but ana marie.. i still believe in dinosaurs!"... ha! i laughed and cried.. but mostly laughed.. cause that is my dad for ya!

God i miss that man... today and every day.. i wish more than anything he was here to help guide me in my struggle with faith.. and my search for a relationship with God.. i think he would understand me.. i know he would..

forget everything you THINK you know

2011-08-09T10:42:00.000-07:00

i spent most of my evening yesterday feeling angry, frustrated, rejected, and sorry for myself.. i am doing all that i can to find a full time job.. i have student loans breathing down my neck.. my husbands truck is falling apart quite literally.. subbing is just not going to cut it this year... and after countless resumes and applications being sent out.. i have heard nothing.. if you have ever looked for a job to no avail then you know the frustration and ultimate feelings of "what is wrong with me?"..and i don't know why but i keep feeling like if i could just talk to my dad then i would be okay.. silly i know.. cause really and honestly i wouldn't even tell him how i was feeling.. but if i could just hear his voice i might know that it's all going to be okay.. that's what dad's do.. they make everything okay.. even when they don't know they are doing it...

so i prayed.. and cried.. and resolved to "keep the faith" and know somewhere in the depths of myself.. that we will be okay in the end.. that something will happen.. something will come up.. some employer somewhere will realize how amazing i am at my job and hire me.. somewhere there is a classroom of really lucky kids that will have me! ok.. so i don't know this.. and today i am not this confident.. but.. fake it till you make it right? i read in this book i have been reading that if you just pretend to have faith..then God will take care of the rest.. He will take your doubts, fear and anger... in the same book i read that when we are at our lowest and struggling with our own pain, focusing on someone else would help... so i was blessed with a wonderful distraction/ message a few weeks ago (ok like months ago)..and it deserves attention...as do you all dealing with loss.. for this woman in particular and her family.. this loss happens to be a diagnosis..

there is a loss/grief that comes with diagnosis.. you see in our lives we tend to looks ahead.. we have visions of perfect futures...and a cancer diagnosis throws that whole thing off the track.. so not only do we deal with the reality of mortality but we also begin to mourn that life we thought we'd have.. even when a person survives cancer..the future is not the same.. sometimes is it even more amazing.. but not the same.. and we certainly can not see that even more amazing future when struggling with mortality...

so this particular message sent to my facebook inbox started with "i am not a creepy stalker" and who can resist reading a message that starts like that? anyway turns out that her husband was diagnosed with stage 4 kidney cancer earlier this year and she looked to the web for information and blogs that would help in some way.. she asked for any words of wisdom/comfort and spoke of her kids (adult children) who seem to all be dealing with this in their own way..and struggling in different ways..

this got me thinking of my own family.. truth be told we were not all on the same page in dealing with papa's diagnosis and deterioration...i struggled to be the strong one.. the logical one.. the one who needed to see scans and find any and all information i could.. my brother refused to hear anything unless it was positive.. i won't ever call it denial.. it was what he needed.. to know that there were possibilities and hope.. my mom controlled what she could.. she forbade the hospice workers to talk about death in any way.. and they sure did hear from her when she was defied..she tried to control his diet and anything else that she could.. because everything else was out of her hands... others in our extended family were angry.. other's avoided.. other's urged him to fight until his very last breath..and my dad.. well he took it all in stride and in faith.. i am sure.. i am positive he was scared, angry, and just as bewildered as we all were.. but he truly held us together with something as simple as a smile..

so i compiled some things that i want this woman and her family to know..

1. first and foremost find God..accept the strength that He has instilled in all of us.. it's there you know.. we just aren't always aware of it until we need it.. when you find the strength to get out of bed and do it all over again.. when you find the clarity to listen to the doctors.. that's God..

2. forget everything you think you know.. no amount of books.. no amount of advice.. nothing. can prepare you..

3. respect each other's differences.. understand that we all do what we need to do..it may not be what you feel is the "right" or "best" way.. but you will all get through it.in your own way.. no matter the outcome..

4. be positive.. understand that this is actually a gift of sorts.. it's one we would all like to return.. i know.. but it's a gift none the less.. all of us will face the end at some point.. but we don't always know when that will be.. God is sending you a message.. listen, He says... i may not take him today or tomorrow.. or for another 40 or 50 years.. but some day i will.. and this is your wake up call.. head that warning.. and cherish every moment you have with each other.. even if you have another 50 years together!

5. reach out.. find someone, anyone you trust to listen to you.. there are so many things you may not want to say out loud.. write it down.. get it out... and know that friends, real friends, can take whatever you give them..this is a stressful time for you all and holding it in can and will lead to physiological issues.. i lost my voice.. literally.. from holding it all in.. i could barely squeek and croak for a week!

6. never accept.. "i know how you feel" because no one does.. not your siblings.. not your mom.. no one knows how YOU feel... you each have individual relationships with your dad/husband.. don't feel alone in this.. relish in it.. own it.. but find those who simply listen.. not commiserate

7. SLEEP!

8. did i say sleep? get your rest.. you need each other at your bests.. so pop a benadryl or see your dr for something if you need to.. just get your sleep!

9. one day at a time.. that was my dad's favorite song to sing in church.. and it's the most we can do.. take it one day at a time..

10. and finally some thing for the man at the center of this all: in the face of surgery.. you swallowed hard and did it.. in the face of a very difficult treatment.. you balled your fists and resolved to do it.. continue to fight.. God will meet you in the middle.. you are still Dad.. so continue being Dad.. you are still a partner.. so continue giving the same support that she gives to you.. and do what you need to do for you..you are in charge.. you hold the cards...not even a monster as terrible as cancer can take that from you!

the easy way out?

2011-08-01T12:57:00.000-07:00

last week my cousin committed suicide...i didn't know him well.. he was on my dad's side of the family and if you are a repeat reader then you know i am not as close to his side of the family and struggle with some feelings in regards to that topic... in fact the last time i spoke to him he didn't know who i was... it was after our grandfather's funeral and he was standing alone in the corner.. he felt bad that he knew my brother (who doesn't know my brother) but didn't know me.. he asked "do you know anyone else here?" which was funny because in truth i didn't and neither did we... we knew my aunts and uncles.. and a few cousins..we made snide comments about how people use funerals for family reunions and it was sad that many of the people there would not see each other till the next one (turned out to be my dad's).. this was in direct reference to my brother's speech (mini eulogy) during our grandfather's funeral.. you see my brother had gotten close to the family as he accompanied our dad while he cared for first his mother then his father before their deaths.. which is where the sense of abandonment and anger came from latter.. but i digress.. this is about our cousin...not us..

so my mom called to tell me last week and there was shock.. no i didn't know him well but i have always understood him to be a solid man..one who fought for our country..i called my uncle to give condolences and by chance spoke to a grief counselor who opened my eyes to this whole subject.. i needed help wrapping my mind around it all.. i felt so bad for the pain that his family must be feeling.. as well as the confusion and subsequent anger and guilt associated with being a surviving family member...i tossed and turned one night because i just keep thinking about what kind of inner pain and turmoil he was feeling in order to have taken this step.. i mean.. we all know what it's like to want to throw up our hands or not get out of bed.. so imagine that pain multiplied..

this weekend i also found out that another person, in the same city as my cousin, took his life as well.. this man barricaded himself in his house and called the police.. the swat team was sent out to no avail... the man shot himself.. at the end of the news story people left comments.. most were to the effect of "suicide is selfish" or "he just wanted attention" or "he took the easy way out"...hurtful terrible comments... it turns out this man fought for our country as well..the comments made no sense to me.. didn't the people saying this hurtful things have any amount of empathy to consider the victim and what a painful decision this must have been?

so in thinking about this and talking to the counselor that i ran into i learned that there are so many myths out there and general feelings about suicide..

Suicide Myth

People who are suicidal definitely want to die.

Suicide Fact

The vast majority of people who are suicidal do not want to die. They are in pain, and they want to stop the pain.

Suicide Myth

People who are suicidal do not seek help.

Suicide Fact

Many people who are suicidal reach out for help.

Suicide Myth

People who attempt suicide are weak.

Suicide Fact

They are in pain. Many people who are very "strong" die by suicide. (www.suicide.org)

so are we seriously going to judge people based on a last desperate action? are we going to consider them weak? my cousin and the other man who died in the same week fought for our freedom..they both saw and experienced things we will never understand... they more than likely did not come to this decision lightly and sought help in some way.. they did not want to die.. they just wanted the pain to stop.. and not being able to understand it ourselves does not give us the right to give them any less respect..and families should not have to hide in shame.. and guilt.. simply because society condemns them as well.. maybe instead of judging we should be trying to better understand why..we are busy finding cures for cancer..but this is just as serious an epidemic..

just some thoughts in respect and memory of Travis Berumen

Eva Braun

2011-07-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

today we lost our Eva..and i am struggling with the idea of "just"..as in just a cat...i mean i lost my dad for goodness sake.. i have lost cousins, grandparents.. but never a cat.. sure i flushed a few fish in my day.. i don't remember those losses... my dog's disappearance is a mystery.. so was my brother's dog.. so i was not expecting the loss of our little Eva to hit me so hard.. i kind of walked around the house for a while.. not sure what to do.. but writing has helped me cope with so much that i felt this blog fitting to place her memorial..

we got Eva a few weeks before Halloween in 2006.. there was this woman nearby who had kittens...a stray (must have been a feral stray from the temperaments of the kittens) had a littler under her porch.. we already had an adult male cat (Patrick).. but why not get a kitten...we had bought a house..why not fill it up.. our plan was to pick one and make sure it had a good life.. doctor care, spay/nueter..etc...so we picked a black ball of fluff who we named Maggie May...the problem was Maggie cried and cried and cried and she was full of fleas so we had to keep her quarantined till the vet would see her.. so my husband made a decision.. "go back and get another one"..i did.. when i had picked out Maggie i hadn't seen another kitten that caught my eye...so i asked the lady which cat Maggie tended to be with the most.. she pointed at a teeny tiny black and white mess of a cat.. "that's Hitler" she said.. because she had a mustache...i thought.. there is no way i was going to name her Hitler.. but Eva Braun seemed okay... and i brought Eva home...as soon as she saw Maggie they were like super glue...they slept together.. refused to use separate litter pans.. they were spayed together.. scratched each others stitches..licked each others paws when we subjected them to nail clippings..

Somewhere along the way Eva became neurotic.. she ate her food in gulps..she got really fat so we put her on a diet.. she slimmed down but got too thin and after that we couldn't get her to put on weight... she would chew off clumps of her fur... she would scratch her face and ears till they were bloody...we couldn't figure her out... she was treated for mites and worms.. both of which she didn't have (precautionary treatments).. we did things to alleviate any allergy she might have had.. we gave her extra love..in the end.. she was deemed "crazy"... she spent more time in a cone than any animal i've ever known.. the cone was to keep her from hurting herself.. but many nights we would try to play with her and she wouldn't play.. she was so unhappy... and we felt so bad for her... the other cats turned on her and were annoyed with her constant.. CONSTANT meowing and yowling..we would find scratches on her nose from one of the other two...and the cone would go back on..

last night i noticed a large amount of fur missing from her tail.. which meant she was at it again.. and the cone was to go back on today.. instead what we found was her water dish broken into shards..there were some drops of blood near the water dish and on her favorite perching stool.. but no Eva.. we discovered her body hidden, curled up in a box... she had undoubtedly hidden there to die.. as of right now we have no idea how she died.. we have deduced a freak accident of sorts.. i don't want an autopsy.. i just want her left alone..

this afternoon i found a biodegradable box and painted her name on it.. we are going to bury her in the backyard.. the city demands a metal or wood box but i would like for her to decompose quickly.. i would like for her body to be used by the earth.. i don't know if cats have souls but i hope she is finally at rest..

i didn't know how hard this would be.. i joked all the time about our oldest dying and the possibility of finally getting a dog.. i can't get out of my mind what might have happened and how scared she might have been.. did she meow? we don't know what time this occurred..had we learned to tune her out to the point that we wouldn't have noticed? poor Eva...she wasn't just a cat... she was her sister's keeper.. and she was my husbands source of sanity when i was in Arizona with my dad..

our fatty, fatty fat fat, large marge, looney tooney, eva von fatz, fatzenstien, von pork, porkness, porky, porky pie, eva braun.. we will miss you!

Book Reviews- 2fer

2011-07-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

I have finally begun hospice volunteer work. I was excited to hear that I had been cleared and was given my first assignment. I went to a convention mostly having to do with finances and taxes and passed out information on what HOM does. I have pretty much decided to speak very generally about any assignment I am on and only convey experiences that have/will affect my grasp on grief and the loss of my father. As a volunteer I am supposed to be open to the individuals I am working with and not project my loss in any way. I know that what I have gone through with my dad affects everything I do in life, but I am resolved not to “make it all about me.” So this assignment was great practice for that. It was an odd place to have a hospice booth, this convention, and I was reminded by a few people how bleak hospice is contorted in people’s minds. So I lightened the mood by reminding everyone that death is as inevitable as taxes.. that went over well because the mass majority of people I talked to were accountants of some kind. So I pushed pamphlets like my life depended on it, to people who dared make eye contact with me. Then there came the practice I mentioned. Some people sought out the booth. They came to me simply to tell what a wonderful experience they’d had with hospice, and one not so great experience. They wanted to tell me about their mother’s, sisters, fathers, brothers, wives and husbands. I listened, said that I was glad that “we” could be there for them. Some left a little misty eyed but most left with huge grins on their faces. Most people relate to others with two simple words, “me too.” So when one man told me about his mother in law using hospice, I could have interjected/related that my dad also used hospice. But what would that have accomplished? A whole lot of nothing, for him. He walked across the convention floor to tell me about HIS experience, not hear about mine. And it was nice to allow him that. I w

as worried that doing this would bring up all kinds of unresolved or even perfectly resolved issues with grief. I no longer have that worry. Me doing this has nothing to do with my dad. I am doing this because I know that I can. For the same reason I teach special education. I could teach anything but I focus on special education because I can. I can talk to the living all day, but I chose to give my time to the dying, because I can. And wouldn’t it be a shame to waste that on reruns of Oprah. As much as I love my Oprah time, it can be spent more impactfully (yes I make up words now). Ok.. getting off my soapbox.. I have a couple of book reviews if you are interested:

In preparation for my journey as a hospice volunteer I have a stack of books to read. A list was sent from HOM and I ordered a couple from my library.. as well as a few that came up in the search. The two books that I am reviewing today are written by hospice volunteers. Each writes about patients of whom have make an impact on the volunteer and either offered a learning experience or a better understanding of themselves.

When Evening Comes: The Education of a Hospice Volunteer

By Christine Andreae

St Martin's Press, 2000

All I can say after reading this book is “wow.” Christine’s account of the connection and struggle to connect with her patients was so raw and honest. My first thought was that it was too honest and could be offensive to family members. But I wasn’t reading it from that perspective. I was reading it looking for tips and tools. What I got instead was a look inside a volunteer as she struggled with feelings of inadequacy and the potentiality of crossing the lone with her patients. She writes, in journal form, about finding her “place” within the care team, friends and family of the patient. She worries about her misgivings and slip ups. In one particular passage in which iced coffee squirted out of my nose after reading it, she describes meeting a couple who is a bit too open about the wife’s cancer. The husband openly discusses where the cancer is, how long she’s had it… cancer cancer cancer. As Christine listens to him speak she wonders how his openness with a stranger is making his wife feel. She attempts to change the subject by making note of the brightly decorated Christmas tree. She says “how pretty that tree looks with all the cancer on it.” For days she frets over how to make it better. What could she say or do to take it back.

She also writes about her struggle to find a reason why she is a volunteer. She worries that her volunteering as well as her murder-mystery authorship makes her seem macabre. She gives text- book answers to the “why” question and fears no one believes her as she does not believe herself. She doesn’t dwell on this question but discusses it while trying to say open and receive the “gifts” other volunteers talk about.

Through Christine’s honesty and self discovery, I certainly picked up a few tools but more importantly discovered how important being honest with one’s self is in this journey!

Becoming Dead Right: A Hospice Volunteer in Urban Nursing Homes

By Frances Shani Parker

Loving Healing Press, 2007

I really don’t like to say that I did not like a book. Really each book has something different to offer and the fact that I finished it is a testament to it right? So I didn’t like this book, rather, it was not my “cup-o-lemon-ginseng-green-tea.” I find most poetry pretentious. I love to teach the subject and I love giving kids that alternative way to express themselves. But really, just say what you need to say. I am guilty of a few too many metaphors I’m sure.. but I still tend to roll my eyes when beats and measures are used for emphasis.. just use an exclamation point.. it serves the same purpose. That being said, the author of this book is an acclaimed and note worthy poet and it shows through her writing, which is possibly the reason I found it trying to read.

Back to the book- Frances Shani Parker, a Detroit high school principal decides to become a hospice volunteer after caring for, in an informal way, two men with AIDS. She writes about seeing a need for workers willing to be compassionate for patients with AIDS in particular, and she fills that void for two men.

As a volunteer she visits with the patients she lovingly writes about. She learns how to be “open” (a recurring theme in both books), and how to visit each patient in their reality. I found this the most helpful. Many of her patients had some form of dementia and if she had not been able to relate to them in their reality, time would have been wasted either ignoring them or trying to convince them otherwise. For instance one of her patients claims that there is a man under her bed. The author crawls under the bed and shouts for the man to leave her patient alone. The mental image made me giggle but also made sense. What would most people have done? Try to convince the woman that there was no one under her bed? That would have frustrated all involved. In the patient’s reality there was a man there, and the author was able to quiet and comfort her by playing along.

There were also patients that she struggled to connect with simply because there was no verbal communication between the two. With each patient she found a way to connect, through music, or through speaking to them as though it were a year in their youth.

Although I struggled with some of the author’s writing style I was still able to learn so much through her experiences.

father's day

2011-06-27T10:36:00.000-07:00

i wasn't putting off writing about father's day purposefully.. i got busy... ok so maybe it was subconsciously purposefully..

this is our second father's day without him.. see first father's day for that post... but this year i resolved to do better...didn't work out so well

father's day anticipation starts as soon as the cards are put out in the stores.. last month i was shopping for a shelf of some kind.. twice i ran out of walmart in tears... you know they don't warn us that we not only mourn the physical loss of the person.. we also mourn thing we do or want to do involving them.. every father's day (not sure when the tradition started) i would send my dad a fart or poop related card... toilet humor is the best kind of humor! when sound cards came out i was over the moon excited to send him the fartiest nosiest card ever! i found just the right one and he played it for every visitor for months afterward (until he claimed my mom broke it)... so this year after passing the huge signs advertising father's day cards i felt a pull to find the fart cards... and was hit with the ice water that is reality.. i don't have a dad to send them to...

sure i've got amazing uncles.. and a father in law that deserves attention.. but no one liked a good fart joke like my dad! so there is no replacement to be had..

so father's day creeped closer and closer and i got more and more anxious... the morning of, i woke up resolved to have a good day.. so what if my dad wasn't there to be called? i could celebrate the general idea of fatherhood...i put on my brave face and began the day... till i burned the breakfast turkey sausage.. overfilled the coffee maker.. dropped countless breakables within a matter of minutes.. i screamed, cussed, cried.. over burned sausage and salsa all over the floor needing to be cleaned...not over my papa

later my husband and i negotiated the calling of his dad.. i screamed, cussed and cried.. over his taking his dad for granted.. not over my papa

later still i stubbed my pinky toe.. it immediately turned purple... i screamed, cussed and cried... over my toe.. not over my papa..

i was sent away for some retail therapy.. driving to target to buy a bunch of things we don't need i passed a funeral procession.. i turned on my brights.. and i cried.. for their loss.. whoever it was.. not over my papa..

do you sense a theme of denial here?

my mom called that afternoon apologizing to both me and my brother because she understood, that day, how hard this was for us.. to see reminders everywhere of the things we couldn't buy for him.. of the cards he would never read.. of the reality that all we had were memories and a grave to clean.. maintaining my composure (i was in target after all).. i listened..

when i got home i took a nice long hot shower.. and i cried.. screamed.. cussed.. and cried some more... this time it was for me.. it was for him.. denial is exhausting .. and something had to give..

they should hand out tshirts to those of us who have lost.. i survived father's day.. or i survived mother's day. or i survived the anniversary of my daughter's college graduation.. or i survived a random tuesday that i was really missing my grandmother...

i guess that's what we do right.. survive.. go forward... onward.. because here i am a week and a day later.. surviving!

Book Review- Heaven Is For Real

2011-06-22T12:30:00.000-07:00

Heaven Is For Real: a little boy's astounding story of his trip to heaven and back

by Todd Burpo w/ Lynn Vincent

Gale, Cengage Learning 2010

I read another blog about a woman who also lost her father to kidney cancer Bumps in the Road. She mentioned this book in one of the posts that she'd written. I read it on the same day that I had gone through my first day of hospice training. In this particular training we were asked to set aside any misgivings of God or our particular faiths or lack there of. We were told stories of patients reaching out into space, gazing at or even talking into the ether in their last minutes of life. We were warned that even if we did not believe in an afterlife, that we could not discount our patients' experiences. I believe whole heartedly in an afterlife. I believe that there is a place that awaits me in heaven. I also believe that children are much more open to these experiences and so the book peaked my interest.

The Burpo family experiences something that would shake any family to it's core. Their three year old son faced death. Little Colton suffers a ruptured appendix and two surgeries to clean out his system. During Colton's time in the hospital the Burpo's turn to their faith and send countless prayers for the well being of their son.

Colton survives and even miraculously thrives (which baffles the hospital staff). The family counts their blessings and continues on with the business of life until Colton offhandedly mentions a recent trip to heaven. Yes, heaven.

He relays messages from Jesus and Todd's grandfather. Todd Burpo instantly believes his son and finds scripture to back up the child's descriptions of heaven, Jesus, John the Baptist and "Pop". Colton continues to remember events and reveals he saw his father praying while he was in surgery, he describes coming out of his body and being held by Jesus. He describes angels, as the bible describes them, not as they are portrayed in paintings. Todd is surprised by his son's revelations because his Sunday school education has not been nearly so advanced for the child to know such biblical details.

Colton becomes a messenger of sorts as time progresses, emphatically expressing that we must have Jesus in our hearts if we are ever to enter heaven.

This was a short read and while I would have wanted to just see Colton's words and not the interpretation of his pastor father, I think the message is more important. I don't feel we should question children. They are far too pure and innocent. My brother spent many months after my grandpa passed, talking to a statue in the cemetery that he claimed was him. My mom, after turning out my light would say "sleep with the angels" and I believe that I did. We were both taught to pray away our bad dreams. Something I still practice 30 years later. Regardless of the lives we chose to lead and the things we chose to believe or not believe, there are countless experiences out there that can not be discounted. I don't know what little Colton experienced, only he does..but I surely believe God was there to cradle and comfort him and his family through his illness. That I won't ever take for granted, because I have experienced that myself.

Book Review- Making Rounds With Oscar

2011-06-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

This book will be the first in a string of reviews. To ready myself as a good hospice volunteer I have begun reading books having to do with death, dying, grief, terminal illness etc. These books are suggested by HOM, suggested by friends/family and other bloggers. My blog seems to be taking an interesting turn toward informational as well as personal and you are all on this journey with me!

Making Rounds With Oscar: The extraordinary gift of an ordinary cat

by David Dosa M.D.

Hyperion 2010

Dr. Dosa works as doctor specializing in geriatrics. He finds himself working in a wonderfully caring and home-like nursing home on the advanced dementia ward. The nurses and other staff begin to talk about one of the many cats living in the home, Oscar. He is a surly one and isn't overly friendly. In fact he is rarely seen.. unless a patient is actively dying. Dr. Dosa discovers this is not a new activity for the cat. He has watched over many dying patients long before it was noticed.

Dr. Dosa interviews families of former patients and learns that Oscar was not only a comfort to the person as they passed but also one to the family. In some of the cases Oscar was the only one present during the passing, at which time he would curl up next to the person's body and await the undertaker.

Through Dr. Dosa's interviews the reader learns of the struggles every family has to endure when a loved one is diagnosed with dementia. Each family finds its way to the realization and subsequent guilt of needing a nursing home. They grieve their mothers, fathers and spouses long before they have passed due to the dementia taking away much of who they are. And through it all Ocsar watches and waits to do his duty.

Dr. Dosa starts off trying to understand why and how Oscar is able to detect death. What he learns instead is the importance of what Oscar does. The way he helps and comforts and the importance animals play in caring for people with terminal illnesses.

This was a great read, although the conversations did not seem natural (keeping in mind it was written by a Dr. not a writer), the story was beautiful. My Nana passed years ago after deteriorating through that horrible disease we call Alzheimer's. I had long since moved away and struggled each time I visited home. I was honest when I said I didn't want to see her. I wanted to remember her the way I knew her. Healthy and quick witted. My Nana had a huge part in my raising. If I wasn't with one of my parent's then I was surely with her. My brother was "hers" in many ways. Or at least that was her claim from the day he was born. She loved him with a fury I have never witnessed before or again. In her last days/months she carried a photo of him and I in her bra. The last day I saw her alive I sat with her awkwardly and my mom pushed for me to talk to her. I couldn't.. I didn't know her, she didn't know me, I had nothing to say and tears would surely have burst out if I had been able to eek out a single word. Instead she took my hand and held it tight. I could feel the involuntary shaking in her hand begin to stop. She looked at me and said "I don't think I know you" she held tighter to my hand and leaned in and finally said "but I love you." Those were her last words to me, and I am so blessed to have that memory. I was not there for her passing but am told that before she passed she asked for my brother, who was there with her. Knowing how much my family struggled to take care of her and my own short experiences with the disease, I was touched by the honesty displayed by the families in the book. A recurring theme was having to grieve the person they knew while learning to love the person they became. Also, in thinking of Oscar I am reminded of how amazing animals are. They aren't cursed with logic and emotions. They just do, they just react..and sometimes when no one else can, they just love.

on God.. and faith part 4

2011-06-15T12:33:00.000-07:00

here are links to parts 1-3

part 1

part 2

part 3

i have 4 bibles...i got my first from my paternal grandparents so long ago that i scribbled with crayon on the inside... the other 3 i got more recently..my mom was so exited when i got my contacts so that i could actually read/see the words... she asks at least every other time if i have read lately.. my usual answer is "no but i know i should".. my views are a little complicated but are becoming clearer... i make no secret of my issues with organized religion and religion in general.. but do want a relationship with God and strive to understand more..i also lack "faith"... i am logical to a fault and still question things that have no answers.. but as i work on my relationship with God through prayer and self exploration i can honestly say i see the world more clearly.. i see beauty that i never saw before.. i see and compartmentalize things so as to less complicate my life... in short.. i trust that God has a plan and place for me with him and i will get there.. eventually...

so.. this morning i got up.. poured a huge gigantic heart stopping cup of coffee..opened my windows and sat to read one of my bibles.. i kind of scanned a few random pages.. i don't have the attention span for much more than that when i am fully caffeinated... anyway i ran across this section in which Paul (i think) speaking...

1 Corinthians 15:43

"Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength"

and it got me thinking about a conversation i had with a woman at a hospice training session... we were being told to respect the religious and spiritual views of patients and families we see..we are supposed to go in as blank slates (hard as that may be).. anyway this woman was telling me of a talk she had with a friend who was atheist but asked her to pray for her when she was sick... "it must be hard" the woman said to me "to not have anything to fall back on," she said "i'd rather put all my faith in God and be wrong in the end instead of believing in nothing and being wrong in the end".. i tend to respect whatever way a person choses to get through life.. whatever way then tend to find their strength..in fact i take offence to people who blatantly declare one way of praising God is wrong.. i believe God is too big for religion.. i digress.. like i said.. i am finding my way and making my path..

then i thought of another comment someone made.. plain and simple "rest in peace robert".. i giggled to myself... if the scripture above is true.. which i choose to believe is truth...then you better believe there is no resting in peace going on.. ok so maybe he is snoozing in a golden woven hammock up there.. but with his body fixed and his health and youth restored i imagine he is running, hiking and enjoying such beautiful sights that our human minds can't even fathom them... he is in peace sure... although his neighbors aren't getting so much peace as he snores loud enough to shake the whole kingdom!

the point to all of this is the way a "seemingly" random passage can lead to contemplation.. and that is where i find God.. i believe he guides me to where i need to be.. in my job searching.. rejections and no replies...in the daily kinks that get thrown in my way.. He is there and there is a message to it all if i just listen hard enough...and because i can find this clarity more easily i can spend the rest of my day dancing in my living room.. cause life is beautiful!

journal part 6- final

2011-06-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

spent memorial day weekend the way the rest of the world does..in and out of lowes and with a hot dog or two...last memorial day i wrote in my journal for the last time until october 2009 then once again in march after my papa passed..for the life of me i can not remember what i/we did that memorial day.. i know i went back home for father's day (which is coming up and which sends me crying out of stores every time i see the card displays) in any event, memorial day of 2009 left me once again questioning my loyalties...my husband was very supportive of me being home with my dad when i needed to be... but i struggled dealing with pent up feelings of having moved away in the first place.. we moved from AZ after he failed to find work there after a year...in that time i have had a chance to earn my degree and do what i need to do so that we won't need to depend entirely on his income.. but somewhere in the deepest parts of my brain there is a little girl who never wanted to leave her family and unfortunately the blame wrongly falls on him when i am most upset or feeling torn.. we are looking and trying now to move closer to home but after losing my grandparents then my dad.. sometimes i can't help but feel "too little too late".. and that is not something i want to think about right now as i look for jobs and opportunities... so on with the journal entry...

for the other 5 in this series follow these links:

memorial day, 2009

dad,

since i have been back in MI i feel like a zombie. just doing what needs to be done on autopilot. my heart is with you not here, and not in my daily activities. i find myself feeling sorry for (my husband). i have nothing to give him. my patience is gone, my smiles are gone, there is no more me.. inside of me. everything i do revolves around the fact that you have cancer. every thought i have, every breath i breathe reminds me. but how else should it be?

then there is this limbo that i am stuck in. half of me is begging God for a miracle while the other half is readying myself for the inevitable. and the continuous guilt of not being home with you eats me alive. i suggested to (my husband) that we spend the weekend reconnecting, maybe we should get away. but i know i have nothing to offer. there is no connection to be had when all i want is to be with you while i still have the opportunity. i am at a total loss.

but my new motto, busy hands=busy mind... seems to dull it all a little bit.

Guest Blogger: My Brother

2011-05-23T10:16:00.000-07:00

my dad and brother would take these road trips.. they drove route 66 into new mexico one weekend.. just on a whim.. they went to disneyland (just the two of them).. they camped and visited friends.. and went on a trip to tombstone.. i don't know whose idea this photo was.. i am sure it was my dads (see like watching nature for the solo photo taken years earlier) but it is one of my favorites... anyone can see the camaraderie and friendship between the two

if you have read my blog for any amount of time then you know that my brother plays a big part in it... because as much as this is my blog.. my dad was OUR dad.. so i could never leave his views or experiences out of it.. for past blog posts featuring my brother see:

brother bear, mine, his, ours and we are

i woke up this morning to an amazing surprise.. a guest blog email from none other... it was so hard to read because we don't really talk about this.. we try to think about the good times.. and i think we worry about protecting each other's feelings.. but it made me think about something i learned over the weekend..i am in training to volunteer for hospice... and in our first training we talked a little about the dying process.. we were told to listen to the patients in their process of passing.. we should take it seriously if they are talking to people that have passed before or if they are reaching out.. our dad waved into the corner.. my mom asked if he was waving to the angels.. he nodded yes... we were also told that hearing is the last sense to go.. so they can hear us even if they do not respond.. my brother and i took turns telling our dad that we would be okay, that he can rest.. it was not permission to die.. never that.. it was the understanding that this cancer had taken his body and my God we would miss him and hurt for him but we didn't want him to struggle... or worry about us in his last hours.. he waited till my brother and i left the room to pass.. and in my brother's writing of his last words to our dad i fully believe he heard him.. and was proud of his strength.. and as much as he didn't want to leave us.. knew.. we would be okay...

and i am so proud of him for doing this.. for putting his feelings into words.. into taking such a cathartic step.. so without further ado.. my brother's words

I always think back to his sick days and I feel like it’s healthy to write a little about it. The first time I found out my dad was sick was a week after we went to go see Gran Torino and my dad was shaving and told me, “hey don’t I look like Clint Eastwood?” The day before he told me I had went with him to a doctor’s appointment, he said to come with him inside where the doctor was going to talk to him, then he told me “maybe you should just wait outside”, I began to worry. Let’s skip through to the part where they told me. It was a Saturday after the doctor’s appointment and I felt something was weird, as my mom and dad and I sat down to eat breakfast my mom said “your dad has cancer.” I looked at my dad and cried and ran outside then called my sister right away, she explained to me he will be having surgery and everything will be okay.

The night of my dad’s surgery I remember doing the most stupid thing ever. I smoked pot. I guess I felt like this was the thing to do at a time like this, I was wrong and I told my sister and she was very upset and I trashed the weed that night. The surgery, as we were waiting in the waiting room I was just anxious I wanted it to be over already. We got to see my dad before he went into surgery and I cried, he told me “I will be alright and I’ll see you when I get out.” I left my dad and went outside, I needed fresh air. Just then my cousins Mike and Gj and Jr came to get me and we went to eat. When my dad got out of surgery I felt so much better, happy and thanking God. Thinking to myself that everything’s over now, but I was wrong. The doctors tested my dad again and found that there was more cancer and it spread. I couldn't believe it and started blaming God. After the doctors tried treatment a couple different times, my dad became very weak and I hated it but as long as the cancer would go away he needed to keep doing it. I was let down those times the treatments failed I had hoped something would work. It didn't.

My dad gave his life to Christ, September of 2009. He was so full of hope and we had an angel with us, Gilbert Castillo (Gj). He did so much for my dad, he loved him so much and my dad loved him, Gj was at our house everyday praying and keeping my dad full of hope. When my dad was coming to his last days Gj was suppose to go on a trip with his soon to be wife, my dad told Gj “Go have a good time.” My dad didn't care about himself; he wanted Gj to have a good time.

Another angel sent to us was Natalie Zaragoza, she would take my dad to all the appointments and treated my dad as if he were hers. It seemed like she always knew what to do. (I’m not trying to leave people out, the others I didn't mention you know who you are).

The last day, I remember everyone coming over. My Tia Kinney played the guitar, I guess to make his final breath peaceful. As everyone was in the room my mom begged my dad to get up and drink coffee begged and cried, and just told him to get up. I finally did the hardest thing ever, I stood up and gave my dad a hug and told him “dad, you can go now, you can go dad, we will be okay, mom will be okay, you don’t have to fight anymore. dad you fought hard enough dad now you just rest”(11:00pm). My dad did not pass away until 3:35am he waited and still fought to his last breath.

My dad left me with his personality as I’m told by some people. He left and touched so many people’s hearts and left spaces in their hearts as well. To this day I always have my dad with me. I know God is preparing a place for me in heaven so I can be with my dad. I wish I could just hug him and tell him I love him and tell him thank you one last time, but I know the next time we meet it will be forever.

adventures of a fishing vest

2011-05-22T10:30:00.000-07:00

my dad decided to give fly fishing a try.. my husband lent him some waders and he caught a few bass..when he returned home (back to AZ) he apparently purchased a fly fishing vest..i didn't know about it until i was home with him for his last few months of life... some nights i would get into his closet and smell his shirts... when he was sick he didn't quite smell like himself.. and i longed for the dust mixed with stetson and leather smell that seemed to cling to him all the time... while in his closet one night while everyone slept i found the vest.. it was in the very back and the tags were still on it... i don't know when he bought it or why he never used it.. but there it hung...

when he passed i took a few things home with me... i have his rusty spurs, the belt buckle he would have been burred with..and the vest...

it hung in my closet for this year and some months until my husband and i decided to take this impromptu fishing trip... i packed sandwich fixings, threw an extra pair of underwear and a toothbrush in a bag..then at the last moment packed the vest.. when i took the tags off i was overcome with the sense that my dad had touched them... they were just price tags.. but no one else had touched them.. just him.. and me... i put the tags into a little box and we were off...

we got there and i set up camp, alone, in under 30 mins.. annoyed with mosquitoes and a lazy bones hubby... but proud too... i set off to look for dry wood and find the river..

when we decided to hike out to the river and do some fishing i loaded up the vest... i don't fly fish so the vest held my eye drops, chapstick, bug spray, dean koontz book and inhaler.. i deemed it my "swiss army vest"... no fish were caught.. we had ramen noodles for dinner

all went well until the second day when we got up and made coffee and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches... i missed my dad's camp breakfasts.. eggs, potatoes, sausage, tortillas (he or my mom would make that for at least one morning)... we fished and fished.. and still nothing.. but it was too quiet... and even with the hubs right next to me i felt.. alone... we target shot the pistol.. and i did well.. i called my mom to check in.. but realized after i hung up that i really wanted to talk to my dad.. i was just missing him so much..

i love to be out in nature.. i feel closer to him there.. but this trip seemed to put him farther away... doing the things he loved.. without him.. with so many reminders around us (the vest, the camp chair, the coffee percolator, the fillet knife, and countless other supplies he'd given us though the years) it just seemed wrong to do it without him...

on our fishless way home i thought about the bugs and the many mosquito bites i would be scratching after a shower washed the grime away, i thought of the way i took down camp in under 20 mins!.. and i realized this trip was without complaint (a miracle in and of itself.. because i am the queen of whine).. i was sore and achy.. tired and dirty.. and as much as i missed my papa...i was also proud of myself.. and i know he would have been too

Happy birthday Papa!

2011-05-10T11:07:00.000-07:00

this is the birthday boy.. may 10th 2009..we only had a handful of months left with him and in the back of our minds we wondered if this would be his last..

those, however, were not his balloons.. they were the one's he got my mom 4 days before, for her birthday... he thought holding them was a cute idea.. i remember this day like it was yesterday.. i wish it was... he is missed every day of my life.. but even more so on special days..

today would have been my dad's 63rd birthday.. it is the second time we are marking this day without him.. tonight my husband and i are going to go fishing and then we are going to share memories over pie... birthday's are strange when the person you are celebrating is gone... that need to mark the day is still there... we are all just so scared that he will be forgotten.. but.. that can never happen.. my dad touched so many people's lives and huge spaces are left in so many people that he won't ever be forgotten.. his was a life that was lived so fully and with so much heart that the mark he left on this world is truly permanent...like a stain.. haha

i didn't expect it when i started blogging, but more and more of you are getting to know him as well..for my newer readers.. i had posted a series of "5 things" .. they were lists of 5 things you should know about my daddy... and to celebrate his life today i am reposting them and creating a list entitled:

15 things you should know about my dad- plus a few more

my dad was not afraid of the tighty whiteys... he would open the door in them.. unashamed.. and more focused on the reason you are at the door to begin with... when he was getting very thin and his shorts fell down in the front lawn (can you call rocks a lawn?) he just grinned.. and said the breeze felt nice....
my dad loved to dance (let me quantify this a bit more.. not so much actual dancing.. more like silly movements to music)... it was not surprising to catch him doing a little jig to whatever music was in his head.. and if there was actual music.. watch out!
my dad loved music- our lives were filled with music.. many times he would start singing and after a while we would all join in... sometimes he would sit and strum his guitar and my brother would get out his keyboard and it would sound just horrible! when his mp3 player was full of battery power, he was in his own little world of cindy lauper and old country
my dad was strong... not in the way that most girls except their dads to be.. i mean STRONG... naturally strong.. he definitely had a steel working bull riding grip.. holding his hand when he prayed, even in his last days, felt like holding an anvil...
my dad was happiest outdoors.. hunting.. fishing... camping... even simply sitting on the porch... he was like an ocean mammal.. he had to get out for air in order to live..what i think he got out of it... is what i am ever in search of.. freedom...
never ask him for help with homework: my dad was probably too smart for his own good... he watched too much PBS... my brother and i asked him as a last resort....you know.. when you are just trying to get done... you just want to go to bed... but you have one last thing to do and it is stumping you...so you get desperate.. and ask him... well settle in.. it's going to be a while... my favorite example is when i was working on dividing fractions... and he told me the history of fractions!!!! the history!!!!!
sometimes he really DIDN'T know: you could have asked my dad anything... ANYTHING... and he would know the answer.. as a little girl.. i thought he really did know everything... as an adult... i saw just how much he made up... yup.. made up... my brother didn't believe me... we were trying to remember who sings the theme song for Toy Story (randy newman, the laziest song writer alive).... but dad said john sebastian... he answered with so much conviction..we laughed and said he'd made it up... he never admitted to making up that name... he said Google was wrong....
he watched ANYONE who performed on Austin City Limits: on the last list i wrote about how much he loved music.. well this included horrible bands like Cold Play.. simply because they played Austin City Limits... i had a bit of a crush on Paolo Nutini... before i knew his name i called him the hot Scottish guy... from the other side of the house i heard "the hot Scottish guy is on!!!!"... when i got there he was laughing... "just kidding, it's willie nelson again"
he hated The Simpsons: few things really got his goat... i will never know if he actually ever watched an episode...i think he would have thought it was funny.. but his heels were dug in and he stuck to it....i was grown.. an adult... visiting from Michigan... i was up late watching the simpsons... he walked in and started yelling at me (me....an adult.. married.. living a half a country away)..... i giggled and blew it off.. until he woke up my mom to tell on me.....
he personified IRON WILL: he woke up at 4am to go to work... some mornings i would be awake to and watched him drive away from my bedroom window.. i felt so sorry for him... to have to go to work in the dark....some days he came home with burned holes in his shirt or skin! (welding).... he worked really hard for us for so many years.... i think it had to be the will to work... when he was in his wheelchair... he did everything he could to still walk to the bathroom.. he would lock his legs... even if was just a few steps... when he pulled himself on and off the wheel chair.... it was will.. sheer will...
my dad was never bored: he could easily amuse himself... usually by making some kind of animal call with his mouth.. his favorite was a javelina call.. one particularly uneventful fishing trip comes to mind... on one side of the lake sat my dad, myself, my brother and my husband.. on the other was a pair of men... then after an entire day of nibbles my dad begins to call in these phantom javelina... the men across the lake didn't realize that the horrible sound was coming from my dad.. they looked left and right for the large hairy pig.. when they realized it was my dad they laughed in relief and we all called it a day...
he liked trying new things: on one trip to San Fransisco he talked us all into trying "authentic" Chinese food... lets just say it involved a few live things.. and some tepid octopus... not to mention the time he decided to take up skate boarding and went out and bought himself a skate board complete with vicious looking cobra on the deck
he loved kids: before i came along he doted on his nieces and nephews.. each of us, it seems, had our own song... most didn't have words.. just a cute little tune.. either way.. we were all very special to him
he didn't drink: he sipped... he nursed.. possibly before i was born and in his younger years he did.. but what i like about this is that he didn't need to.. he was fun and laid back all on his own... he was real.. all the time
he was slow: he drove slow, ate slow, walked slow.. and it drove people nuts... i am sure it drove me nuts a time or two... but now when i think about it, i can appreciate it... that he didn't rush through life... he was always stopping to smell the roses...
he had tiny teeth... i don't know why or how but his teeth were little.. but.. he made up for it with a huge warm smile
he had little hands (i have little hands) short stubby fingers... but i miss them the most.. i miss the roughness of them and the strength within them.. those seemingly small stout hands could have and sometimes did carry the world
he could sneeze you out of a car... his truck(s) were always dusty.. and it never failed.. anytime you got into the cab with him he would sneeze.. a sneeze that would literally fog you out.. no matter how close you leaned to the window...
he was a man of few words... he didn't say a whole lot... he was quiet and patient and just sat there and took things in.. but when he had something to say.. i don't think anyone could NOT listen..

happy birthday papa!

journal part 5

2011-05-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

here we are nearing the end of this journal series and finally a break! (next and last entry of this series will be memorial day) i was telling my cousin the other day that i kind of regret starting this series...it is bad enough dealing with the way i feel now.. but here i am torturing myself with reliving the way i was feeling then...

this entry was written a couple of days before i went home for a few weeks...i was blessed to be able to spend his last birthday with him... i also got to spend a mother's say with my mom and her birthday too... this hadn't happened in too long

rereading this entry makes me think of the anticipation of his birthday..some of us wanted to have a big party.. invite everyone.. but my brother vetoed that idea... in the same way that he wasn't ready for me to come home.. he also wasn't ready to consider the possibility of it being his last birthday... i was constantly walking this fine line of staying logical and trying not to hide from what God had put in front of us... but also being positive for my brother who wiped all possibility of death from his mind.. he was stubborn in the way he chose to look in the opposite direction... this was the way he chose to cope till our papa's last day of life... what i tried to tell him in order to prepare him yet not burst the protective bubble he'd put around himself was that we were given a gift of sorts.. God was saying "hey look, it may be 30 days or 30 years, but one day i am taking him"... and we were so lucky to at least have that knowledge and cherish our 30 days or 30 years... this logic comforted me.. but would send my brother in a fit of furry... i changed my tactic after this trip home.. i adopted his positivity and hope.. for all of them..

4/31/2009

Dad,

i am trying to sort my feelings out today. i will be with you in 2 days. shouldn't i be excited? i want to feel excited, instead of scared or this nervousness that takes over. i am not sure why i feel this way but i think it could be that i am afraid that when i see you this inevitability will seem all too real. i won't be able to hide from it if i am standing face to face with you and what you have inside of you. i also think that i will have to face my control issues. here i feel helpless and frustrated that there is nothing that i can do, but i can rationalize by telling myself "if i was only there..." but once i get there i will have to deal with the reality that there really is nothing that i can do.

funny, i was talking to mom and she said (my brother) is not excited for me to come. that he is acting apprehensive. i know he is feeling the same way. i know that me coming home makes this too real for him. he also wants nothing but positivity and hope and he knows how my mind works. i am coming home armed to take him on! here we are feeling the same exact way but pretending not to be.

you sure did make some interesting kids dad. what we lack in quantity we make up in quality. we are strong, bull headed, overly opinionated and hot tempered. i wonder if you see that and although most of those traits are not great things, i hope you are proud of us anyway.

journal part 4

2011-04-27T10:37:00.000-07:00

when papa bought this jeep it was the ugliest bright orange monstrosity i'd ever seen... but it was loud and maybe that's all that mattered... in a matter of months it was so pretty.. cream paint.. heavy duty tow bar and back hitch... it even had these switches where a radio might go that turned on lights and fans.. i am sure they had a bigger purpose but i just enjoyed pretending to be in a space ship.. i was probably much to old to be playing make believe with that thing.. but it was fun none the less.. the seats perpetually smalled of dust and dirt from so much off roading... it smelled amazing.. like the desert

this photo is of my mom, dad and brother bear at the river bottom.. picture perfect day don't you think?

that jeep...we had so much fun on that thing... not just the trips and death defying maneuvers but there were little things i remember.. when the far off clouds looked just a smidgen darker than the ones over head my dad would invite us for a ride... to go look for rain... some nights he'd pile us girl cousins into it and drive to an abandoned burned up house on van buren ave. and tell us ghost stories...

dad had taken a photo of it and framed it.. a photo of just the jeep.. that still makes me giggle... anyway... april 2009 was also the month when he sold it... we were dealing with so much with the progression that the cancer had taken... the selling of the jeep affected me and it became the topic of the 3rd letter in my journal.. the selling of this jeep lead to the most vivid real dream i have ever had of my tata (maternal grandfather).. i will go on any record in saying that it was more than a dream.. losing my tata so many years ago was such a shock to my young mind and affected me in ways that i am only now understanding though the loss of my dad...this was more than a dream.. it was a message, a visitation if you believe in that kind of thing...

april 26, 2009

dad,

you sold the jeep to mark (my cousin) yesterday. i was so sad. i remember the day you brought it home. it was the brightest color orange i had ever seen. i remember when i was standing behind it and it back fired on my inner thigh. i was crying and you put a cold soda on my leg. did you know i still have black bits embedded in my thigh from that day?

last night i couldn't quiet my mind. the memories just kept flooding in. the worst part is all this made me realize that one day you will only been in my memories as well. it breaks my heart to know that i will only see you in pictures and will never get to hug your flesh and bone again. when i finally did fall asleep i did not deem of you. i dreamed of tata. it was so real dad. i could smell him. it was so clear and vivid that it left me with so many emotions today.

in the dream emilio (my brother) and i are sleeping in the living room of the old house in tolleson. emilio is on the sofa, which mom would hate, and i am on the recliner chair. tata is sitting on the coffee table and he is watching emilio sleep. he shakes his head as if to indicate that he can't believe how much he has grown (my tata passed when my brother was very young and at the point in this dream he is 15 years old and very very tall). he sees that i see him and he motions me to him, i hug him and i feel the rough cotton of his brown flannel shirt against my cheek. i breathe in the oil on his hair and the cigarette smoke in the fibers of his shirt and i cry, and cry. i tell him i don't want to lose you. i say that i don't ever want to miss you the way that i miss him. he takes my face in his hands and starts to say something and i can't hear him. i tell him i can't hear him and he just shakes his head and looks away but there are tears in his eyes. and then i wake up. when i woke up my pillow and face were wet. i was crying in my sleep.

i tried to fall back to sleep and i succeeded but every dream i had after that was of you.

i know why i dreamed of you and tata. i am angry at you dad. i am angry that you sold the jeep. i understand why you sold it. you weren't using it and it does deserve to be used but right now, at this point, it feels too much like you are tying up loose ends and i am not ready for that.

i practice this conversation in my head sometimes. in this conversation i say that it is okay to give up the fight, it is okay to stop the chemo. i tell you that i would rather you feel good for the time you have left on this earth. i wondered if practicing this conversation meant that i was getting stronger in my understanding of all this. i wondered if maybe i was ready to let you go. but that is not what it means at all. what it means is that i am scared to see you sick. that i don't want to see my big strong dad sick and fragile. but is our need to see you strong causing you to ignore your body? could we push you to go too far with treatments simply by needing you?

i will see you in 6 days dad. i can't wait but i would be lying to say that i wasn't scared. i am more than that dad, i am terrified!

it's funny.. just after my dad passed i had to come back to michigan and back to school.. my last semester in school had started and my last class was a writing class... the instructor would give us an off topic to write about.. like our favorite place to play as a child...i thought i had written about my mom and dad's closet but when i read it over i realized it was about the smell of leather.. boots and belts and morphed into a piece about my dad and the way smell is ingrained in us from birth and that in Heaven i will know him by smell... i bring this class up because i think that is what happened here.. i began to write the letter in regards to him selling the jeep but that lead to my admittance of fear.. and what i was really afraid of... i understood death was a natural part of life.. i never asked "why him"... but i was so afraid of feeling that loss again.. that longing i still have for my tata... and the fear of seeing the man i needed most.. helpless... then ultimately questioning the concept of "fight" in terms of cancer...

anyway.. there are 2 more entries that i plan to share.. one on the 31st and the last on memorial day.. i haven't read them since i wrote them so i am a bit apprehensive to see what other realizations i have yet to unleash..

journal part 3

2011-04-25T10:15:00.000-07:00

yesterday my husband and i went to see the latest disney earth day release called african cats... over the past 3 installments it has become a tradition that we see these documentaries opening weekend... the theater was almost empty so i didn't hide my dorky "oooohs" and "aaahhhhs" at some of the cooler moments.. like the high speed camera usage during the cheetah chase scenes or the cute yawns of the lion cubs.... the plan was after the early movie i would put a roast in the crock pot and he would go out hunting.. instead we were attached at the hip for most of the day.. he even stood next to me while i did dishes.... then just before dinner was ready the conversation started.. i don't know who started it...but we talked about dad... he wanted me to recount his last night (as he was unable to be there at the bedside but came a few days later)... who was there? what did you do? how did you feel?..."do you miss him:?" i asked.. "of course" he answered and i understood our clingy-ness after the movie.. that was their thing... dad and my husband.. they would call each other after knowing one had gone hunting.. they would talk on the phone till the batteries ran out of one of their cell phones.. sometimes dad would call and after a quick hello would tell me to give my husband the phone..i would jokingly throw a hissy fit but i loved it... he was missing dad after watching the movie.. i was too... i grew up on religious taping of marty stouffer's wild america and nature on pbs... watching any nature show ultimately makes me think of dad... apparently it had the same effect on my husband as well.. so while it was easter and i have many easter memories of my dad, mostly seeing him at the grill... what brought him to mind this time was what he loved most.. nature... happy earth day indeed!

so this is the journal entry i promised in the last post... it was written on april 23rd.. it was the second entry in the journal that i am now trying to reclaim.. i was avoiding him.. i checked in with my mom or cousin for updates.. but i hadn't spoken to him an a while... dialing the phone sent me into a panic... and i would sob uncontrollability... i spent many hours of the days curled up and my poor husband didn't know what to do for me.. it's a helpless feeling that sends me into panic mode..there was nothing the doctors could do.. nothing he could do.. nothing i could do...

April 23, 2009

Dad,

i haven't talked to you since the day we got that last bit of bad news. i am just not strong enough yet. i don't want to bring you down with my crying and negativity, but at the same time i just want to hear your voice. even if it is just to talk about the weather, like most of our conversations end up. i hate being so far away from you but i think me being here has forced us to talk in ways we never have before. when i am home we are perfectly content to be in the same room together. although i have always taken comfort in our ability to just be with each other and not rely on idle conversation.

(my husband) and i are at each other's throats lately. we are both dealing with the guilt of being so far. and as much as i hate to say it out loud i have wondered if it was worth it. if he was worth leaving my family, leaving you. i love him so much but i am losing you, not him. but here i am stupidly writing a letter that will never be sent. i can not even find the bravery to pick up the phone and talk to you. i really am trying to find strength. and do you know what helped today, of all things? i talked to (my brother) today. i called to check on him, to say i am here for him, but instead he ended up comforting me. he is becoming such a young man. he is stoic and logical like you. i never want you to worry about him dad. i have loved that kid more than my own life since he was born. i could promise that i will always take care of him, but i think it is more realistic to say we will end up taking care of each-other.

good night dad, i love you... oh and it was warm today.. about 60 degrees

journal part 2

2011-04-18T08:33:00.000-07:00

this is my daddy TWO DAYS after his nephrectomy surgery (kidney removal) my husband wasn't able to be there for the surgery but came two days later... my dad insisted we take him out to the desert for a walk (this was the kind of time he enjoyed spending with my husband) ... he wasn't able to walk but sat in his chair, in his pj pants and watched us and the wild animals frolic... it is such a precious memory of my papa's strength and devotion to his kids... he would have truly done anything for us... if strong will and love for family could keep someone alive he would surely still be with us

my husband bought me a journal for one of our anniversaries...i loved it.. i carried it around everywhere just in case the need to write should arise.. i wrote very small to keep from using too many pages.... there is something about a journal that makes you feel important.. the thoughts that are in my head are so important and life changing that i must write them down.. least they do not fulfill their purpose of changing the world.. right? if you write then you know what i am saying.. we write because we secretly hope that after we are long gone someone will find our life altering words hidden away and a new course of history will be attributed to us.... so this journal (leather bound and studded) had it's pages ripped out in april... i burned everything i had written in it prior to the day in april when it became UNSENT letters to my papa.. there are only 7 letters starting in april 2009 and a final one in march 2011 just before i started this blog... (october's letter is written under "journal part 1")..there are not many entries i think because so much wasn't being acknowledged.. my honesty about fear was there but i think i was too scared to write sometimes.. to scared that ink on paper would make it too real... so today starts the april letter series in my attempt to get my journal back.. to once again use it for trite coffee house musings and poorly written poetry... in effort to come full circle in a way.. and as always to honor my daddy...

in april 2009 my dad had been formally diagnosed.. he had already had his kidney and mother tumor removed.. at this point the pathology report came back with bleak news...there would be no cure.. only treatments that were unlikely to work.. up until this point death was not an option.. it was as simple as removing the kidney... we all thought that would be the end of this... our hope was that the nodes visible in his lungs would go away after the main tumor was gone... that obviously did not happen...

for newer readers- understand that i did not live, nor do i currently life, in the same state as my family... much travelling was done..and phone calls.. but i also had the advantage of being able to hide from this every once and while... while i also had the disadvantage of being alone in this...

april 2009

Dad,

i cut out all of the pages in my journal. i can't help but feel like nothing else really mattered before this. i haven't been able to fall asleep without distractions, otherwise i am bound to cry all night. i just can't believe it, but at the same time my all too logical mind won't let me believe in miracles. you are dying. i say it over and over again. my dad is dying. and when i am not thinking about it i feel guilty for allowing myself to be so easily distracted (by tv or music). and when i begin to feel guilty everything comes our into a fight of some sort. i have lost so much precious time with you, i have lost 6 years of making memories. how was i to know the end would come so quickly? how many birthday's have i missed? your bithday is next month and all i can can think is please God don't let it be your last.

i ended that first entry abruptly.. and i can still so vividly remember what i was thinking.. "just stop ana marie" .. just stop..s top crying.. stop being a baby.. stop being negative.. stop being so weak! i struggled with the way i was feeling.. i struggled to allow myself to feel it... in the end.. i stopped... and i kept stopping.. like i said.. today is the first of the april journal entries.. so expect another on the 23rd, 26th and 31st... i expect this will be quite an emotional month...

going forward

2011-04-12T10:48:00.000-07:00

going forward is NOT getting over it.. is NOT forgetting.. is NOT giving up... is NOT "moving on"... going forward is simply putting one foot in front of another... is the act of getting and staying out of bed (sometimes)... is completing the seemingly menial tasks of the day... all this.. in spite of grief....

i don't know the exact quote... and i saw it on a movie of all places but it goes something like "what is tomorrow, but a yesterday that you thought you couldn't face?" how true is that?

daily, when dealing with grief, we struggle with the idea of tomorrow.. can i do it all over again tomorrow? or simply.. i just can't do this anymore! but we do... and each day is a step, going forward...

in effort of my own "forwardness" i have applied to volunteer with hospice of Michigan... i would love to work in community outreach or with grief support and with my degree in education i think i'd be better apt to work with kids... (my brother had a terrible experience with grief counseling, so much so that he has always refused help.. i'd like to change that for at least one kid) however.. i will do whatever is needed of me... i chose to take this step forward in effort to get out of my own grief and also maybe, possibly... lead someone else .. forward.. so fingers, toes and eyes crossed... Lord let me be put where you want me!

so.. after i sent away my application (and because i can see now!!!! thanks to God and my wonderful new doctors who finally fit me with specialty contacts!) ... i have been able to pick up a book again and my random choice is a memoir of a recent widow as she finds her new place in the world without her husband.. and it got me thinking.. as words on a page normally do to one so obsessed with words...i understand what it is like to lose a dad... although i only KNOW what it is like to be me and lose MY dad... has anyone ever said "oh i know how you feel"? well they don't... not really.. because they don't have your experiences.. so as much as i know my own pain from my loss.. i have no earthly idea what it is like to lose a spouse.. a partner.. someone who you handed your children to.. someone you looked across the table at every day with love and disdain.. someone you trusted to be with you in your old age.. someone you planned with, slept with, fought with.. i don't know what it is like to lose that... that being said i also have no experience losing a child or sibling... is loss so universal that i or anyone can "help" another person with their grief? maybe it is just a matter of assuring them.. they can move forward...

brother bear

2011-04-07T15:21:00.001-07:00

"Every time that I look in the mirror

All these lines on my face gettin' clearer,

the past is gone It went by like dusk to dawn,

Isn't that the way? Everybody's got their dues in life to pay"

grief does this horrible thing to us.. it separates us..intentions are there but we forget sometimes...what our own loss means to someone else.. our loss becomes our own.. MY loss, MY needs.. MY pain.. MY sorrow... and inside of our grief we become frustrated at others for not understanding us, helping us, saving us...all that we can fathom is how we are feeling...

meanwhile there is someone left twisting in the breeze.. someone whose shoulders may look big and strong but are already holding so much...someone we will never help or console if there is that little voice inside that asks "what about me?"

when my dad was coming out of surgery.. i was the first to see him.. he motioned for me to come closer.. and i thought there would be a touching moment between father and daughter but instead he asked "how is your brother?"..half jokingly i said "hey, what about me?"... much later when his hospital bed was delivered i was sent to pick up my brother from school.. my dad asked me to tell him about it.. to ready him to see it... even later my most vivid memories are watching him put on the strongest face when my brother was in the room... something as simple as holding the phone in his shaky arm, all but refusing my brother's help in holding it to his ear...

i think there was a lesson in all that.. i think he understood something we didn't... my dad had already understood my strength...understood what i could handle... and what he saw in my brother.. was not a child.. wasn't just a son.. certainly wasn't the favorite (haha) but in him, he saw the one of us three that would need the most understanding and patience in all of this..

i am reminded of my dad's nightly prayers for God to give his family strength and comfort.. and God does that for us daily.. the fact that we wake up and get out of bed daily is a testament to that... but if we want to.. if we step outside of ourselves we can give those things to each other as well..

and sure my heart aches.. i am missing my protector, my source of strength... but what is the cost of my loss to someone else... because my brother lost his one true ally.. lost the only person in this world who didn't expect anything of him.. he lost his best friend.. and we fail him daily don't we? by allowing the space that my dad left to be unfilled.. by continuing to ask "what about me?"

Guest Blogger: My Mom

2011-03-28T14:34:00.000-07:00

Right, is a photo of my dad on his and my mom's hike into the Grand Canyon years ago

bellow is a photo of him and I enjoying the scenery on another trip to the canyon

my mom took a recent hike into and then out of the Grand Canyon.. if you have never been there, you can not even imagine the beauty of it.. it's vastness alone assures you that God is real... I asked my mom to guest blog about her experience hiking the canyon for the second time (her first was with my dad), i knew that he would be heavy on the minds of all who went..

when she was first asked to go she shared with me that she didn't want to do it without my dad... i thought this was something that she needed to do, should do... not only would it show that she was able to do it without him physically but it would also show that, though it's hard, we can move forward without him (for now)... what better euphemism for life, than to climb out of the canyon?

as a family we have taken trips to the canyon.. most every time we did i puked at some point.. but i can still feel the importance of being there.. of looking out and just being still.. taking it all in... that was important to my dad.. just take it all in.. experience it... trying to tune out my mom exclaiming "how beautiful!" "wow!" :)

i love this photo of my mom hiking because we found it as we were going through old photos, dad was already on hospice but still ornery as ever and kept saying "look at those legs".. it was too cute!

so without further ado.. i give you my mom in all her snarky humor and exclamations... haha.. when i read it i could hear her voice because.. much like i do.. she writes how she speaks... and we both tend to play fast and loose with punctuation! she also called to warn me of the somewhat risqué parts... nothing i haven't heard before mom!

My first major adventure without my BABYCAKES

Hiking to the bottom of the great Grand Canyon

This trip had been planned by my niece and sister for at least 6 months. One of the girls that was supposed to go with them cancelled out about 2 week prior to leaving. It was to be a hike w/ a two night camping stay at the bottom. At first I hesitated, only because I had no desire to adventure without Robert. I almost felt that I had no business going without him, I also knew that it was going to be very difficult not only because of my weight & lack of exercise but because this was “our thing” to do. I knew exactly what he would marvel at, look for and his reaction to how we packed our backpacks or carried our water. I knew that I would hear his voice in the wind……. ANYWAY, after giving it some thought and constant encouragement from my sister and niece…….. I decided to go. (and I’m glad I did).

We started out on Wednesday night, after church…… (I knew I/we needed a lot of prayer). My thought s were of my honey, just thinking about him, and how he knew just how much I loved the canyon. At any opportunity or any occasion, he’d take me up there. It is beautiful. BUT, I was going to be there without him. What was worse, was that we’d never share the canyon, again…. Or, the motel….. Who doesn’t like to share motel with their loved one…… It was always a honeymoon; even you didn’t like each other. (another story).

The plan was that we’d get an early start, (that was a joke)…. It didn’t matter, except, had Robert been with us, we would have had an early start… we lollygagged in Flagstaff, shopped for stuff we had forgotten; toiletries, snackies, sun screen, snickers, oh, and a diet Pepsi…… We got to the trail we were going to take (south Kaibab) @ 10:00. We were surprised to see so much snow on the trail. So we proceeded with our hike. OH HOW BEAUTIFUL and slippery. I remember looking up at the canyon and looking for the spot or spots that Robert, our baby girl and I would stand, sit and just stare down at the beauty with appreciation for our wonderful creation. I can’t say that Robert ever left my thoughts, although much of the scenery was blurred with tears. How beautiful it was and how I wish my Robert was there with us…….After 5 grueling hrs into our hike, my legs started feeling weak. I knew something wasn’t right. The conditions worsened. At about a mile from our campsite, I thought was going to die…. The girls didn’t know how bad I was (or they didn’t care). We kept going but I felt I was crawling. (this wouldn’t have happened if Robert would have been with us). When I made it to camp, I (so dramatically) dropped my backpack (he would have been carrying mine) plopped myself down….. and it all came up and out….. I was so sick and couldn’t stop shaking…. My niece and her friend put up the tent so that I could get in it (probably to hide me from everyone). I got in the tent and I just remember feeling a relief that just maybe I was going to be with Robert sooner than I had thought. ( I was sick). I guess it was dehydration….. BAD. Actually, I wanted to die, but then I thought about my babies. How selfish of me, I then started to pray and pray for God to please help me get better. My sister (I couldn’t believe this), nursed me all night, making sure I drank water and the slightest move or moan, she’d ask me if I was ok or better. THANK GOD, morning came and I was feeling in better. I got out of the tent and went to wash up (Robert and I would give each other sponge baths)… I walked away, and laid on the bench of a picnic table to pray, and to soak in the beautiful morning rays, thinking about my Robert. I so miss our intimate moments. We had many, many fun times alone. My mind went crazy thinking of his sayings or asking “Do You Want To HUH-HUH” or sing “I’ve got the horse and you’ve got the saddle, together we’re going to ride, ride, ride”….. the times we would be hysterical laughing at one another because of our fat stomachs……..or when he knew that I was upset at him for whatever reason, he would smart off and from the TV room, I hear him tell my son, “I guess we aren’t getting any cookies tonight……….

OH WHAT HAS HAPPENED…….. It is still so unbelievable….

Midmorning I wanted to go look for the deer. I didn’t want to leave the canyon without seeing a deer. We went about a little walk towards the Colorado River and came across a couple looking for Big Horn Sheep, he said they had been spotted in the area, I told him we hadn’t seen any but asked them if they had seen deer. They told us, that they had seen at least 6 of them watering near the river…. So we headed that way. It was funny to me because here I am, looking for deer. (that’s exactly what Robert would be doing, actually looking for any four footed critter). We didn’t see any. I was quite disappointed. (My sister made friends with a fox). After a couple hours at the Colorado River (it was beautiful), we chose to go back to camp…..

My sister and I sat in the sunshine, enjoying the view of the many, huge cliffs. The colors were just gorgeous. Of course, the quite moments took our thoughts to Robert. I can’t express enough just how much I/we miss him. How could we rewind time? Go back to what we had. Undo what was done…. ………………….My sister mentioned him often. She still misses him as well as the rest of the family; tears are always present when we talk about me. WHAT A LOSS WE HAVE SUFFERED. We’d talk about all he taught them (family) about camping. I truly enjoyed our talk. After a couple of hours “sunning”, people started noticing two dumb Mexicans sitting on the bench laughing or crying…… it was so much fun making friends with so many other people. They would actually stop to join in on our laughter with making fun of each other (that’s what sisters do, right). We even had the Park Ranger joining in on the fun. We met people from all over this great world. I posed for an Asian man….. (maybe I’ll be featured in one of their comic books). We decided to go back to camp and get our stuff ready, hoping to leave by 6:00 a.m. While packing and getting ready for the morning, we received company. These people were “friends we met on the bench”. my sister meets strangers and right away want to play SKIPBO, so she a invited mother and daughter to come over and play “SKIPBO”. We laughed so hard telling her, “Yeah, they’re going to come play SKIPBO, with you”. Well they did…….

Time to sleep and then time to wake up and get going………My niece (who took care of Robert) was amazing. I still can’t believe how she just took over and made things happen. You’d think she was born with the talent of an outdoorsman………. She gives credit to her Tio Robert …. She’ll say that her Tio taught her all she knows about camping. I never helped Robert with the camp set up… I didn’t want to learn how to do it…… too much work. So, I’d say, “I do all the work @ home, so here @ camp, you get to do it. AND HE DID! But “Nelelee”, knew how to do it all.

As we started our early morning hike back out of the canyon, guess what we encountered…… DEER! Beautiful deer. There they were, there must have been at least eight/nine. They were watering and just watching us. They were as motionless as we were. My heart sank. I wanted so badly to holler out to Robert, to come and see them, but was afraid to scare them off. Then again, Robert wasn’t with us. I was able to get near enough to talk to them. It was great. I told them not be afraid, that Robert wasn’t with us. (my honey was a hunter). I didn’t want to leave the area; it was so much like heaven. Beautiful, serene, friendly, warm, cool, and peaceful and I felt very close to Robert. I knew we had to keep going, but it wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave that feeling I felt. So close, to Robert. I was in fact in his world. I thought of us looking over the canyon beyond the canyons, just imagining what we could see. I saw and felt the great beauty with the taste of heaven.

We went about our hike, crossed the bridge over the Colorado River. We stood in the middle or the bridge looking at the rushing waters, but my thoughts were still on the deer and the beautiful meadows against the large rocks within the canyon. There was such a sense of sadness. I think my sister even mentioned it.

I took us 8 hrs to climb out of the canyon. Still, very beautiful at every angle. At the canyon, there are canyons within each canyon and at every spot you can see a different beauty. Breathtaking. We did, at many points, stop for a rest, but even then, we didn’t stop marveling at God creation. That’s when we’d pull out Robert’s binoculars, to see all we can see. At this one point, I heard a chipping, which I thought was a bird. I told my sister, look for that bird that is chipping. So she pulled out the binoculars to look for the bird. Some other hikers stopped and asked what she had seen and she said, “I looking for that bird, do you hear it”? And they said, oh, that’s not a bird; it’s a squirrel (or chipmunk).

We continued climbing. We were well into our 5^th hour. This was grueling and only to get worse. My niece and her friend left us behind. I really don’t think it had anything to do with age nor their fitness. I believe that my sister and I were literally enjoying the beauty. We’d meet hikers on the trail, and we’d talk. The hikers we’d meet coming down, we’d say, “enjoy it”, then we’d ask, “are WE almost there?” The ones that would hike along with us were so good to encourage us, to just keep on going and to enjoy it. So we were all pretty much with the same mind set.

About 3 ½ miles from the top it got bad. We hit the snow again. The trail’s narrower because of the snow. We were slipping and sliding and at just about a crawl. We kept on, slowly but surely. We were still enjoying the sights but really we were worried and wondering whether or not we were going to make it (Robert would have been mad for us taking such a risk). My sister was good about trying to distract us, and this one time she says, “Just think Ernestina, how many sisters have had this opportunity to do what we’re doing , together”. That was nice, but I thought, how many sisters are there that would be so stupid to do this? It was horrible, steep, icy, and slippery. I know there a couple of time I wanted just to quit. Just stop. Then I would hear my Robert say, come on Ernestina, you can do it, we are almost there…… (then I’d remember why I quit hiking with him…… he didn’t know when to stop) At one point my sister slipped. That could have been catastrophic. The trail has logs built in (preserve trail) so we had to lift our leg over to step up. This was on ice and snow. She slipped and only God prevented her from going over…. Scary. We were quiet the rest of the way……I started noticing a place where Robert and I had walked our baby girl down about a mile……. So I knew that we were pretty close but very, very difficult.

Thanks to my loving, merciful God. We made it. I experienced a touch of heaven, a place where I left Robert and beautiful memories. I was able to share many tears with him, and was left with such peace knowing that he is where he wants to be and knowing that someday, we will all be together. Not only the kids and I, but my family that still miss and mourn him. He left us all with precious memories, and I thank God for them. I’M EVEN AT A POINT THAT WHEN IM SAD, OR MISSING HIM, I JUST PRAY AND THANK GOD FOR THE YEARS HE GAVE US WITH HIM. ALTHOUGH SHORT YEARS, FOR US WHO MISS AND LOVED HIM, BUT BIGGER THAN LIFE YEARS, BECAUSE HE LIVED LIFE TO THE FULLEST WITH THOSE HE LOVED.

getting what i came here for

2011-03-21T11:55:00.001-07:00

so i may have forgotten why i made this blog.. i think i have been writing things that i want to write about.. but i also have the reader in mind.. when in reality.. .this blog is for me... it was set up so that i had a safe place to write how i feel.. send it out and release it... and there have been times when i don't write what i am feeling.. or i avoid writing because i know it is going to be hard to read... or worse.. hard to write...

so i want to write this for my own therapy.. so that i can sleep.. so that i can stop feeling the way i have been... but i want to write it without guilt that it will make some of you sad or feel bad... it is what it is... and it's what i need to work out...

i don't sleep.. i can sleep.. believe you me. i CAN sleep... i can lay down for 4 hour naps and wake up ready for another round of sleep... i have fallen asleep in the bathtub... at the movies.. in school parking lots during lunch hour... i CAN sleep.. but sometimes. i won't.. i will myself to stay awake... completely terrified of what i am going to see when i close my eyes...

at night.. there is a stillness...at night it comes down to me and my thoughts... a battle almost... i literally shake my head NO.. i put on my war face and downright refuse to let them get the better of me...

the thing that i am avoiding so much as to drive myself to bite my fingernails till they are painful and bloody.. is my dad... i fight back tears but still feel them rolling into my ears.. hot.. i lose the battle every time... even with my eyes open starting out into darkness i see him... he is thin.. frail... he is scared too...

and that's what gets me... i am laying in bed fighting sleep the way he did every night... we would beg him to sleep and he wouldn't... and i know what he was afraid of... because i see them too.. i see all of the memories and things we work so hard to hide away in our minds.. i know what it feels like to not be able to stop them... and i know.. without a doubt that is what he was seeing... in his over 60 year of life,, i don't know all he had seen.. i don't know all that he had experienced.. but i know the bad stuff lurked... then came out at night...

my nightmares are made of seeing him small and sick on the recliner sleeping with his mouth open... but his hands and feet are twitching because i know he is having a morphine induced nightmare... or i see him hallucinating and seeing bungs on my aunts kitchen floor.. so afraid he is holding the wheels to his wheel chair so that i can't push him into the kitchen.. and all i told him was to not look down... i see him staring off into corners.. and i ignored it... i was so afraid to see my dad afraid that i blocked it all our... or at least tried to... i didn't comfort him... i didn't want to pity him.. i kept on trucking hoping that he would follow.. and he did...

and i feel so much guilt now.. i have so many "should of" thoughts left over.. i should have played games with him at night.. maybe took a walk around the block. anything to help keep his thoughts and hallucinations at bay.. and i didn't... so maybe it's my punishment to lay awake and try to cry as quietly as possible... i try not to live with regret but instead learn.. what what lesson was there to learn here?

after nights of sleeplessness my mind starts to wander in the day... running watter can send me into a panic attack when i think of the look on his face when he washed his hands.. like water was the best feeling in the world after not showering for days... when i cook. i think i could have tried harder to come up with things he could,would eat.. and worse.. i secretly wonder pretending to be so strong led me to this...

all of these thoughts keep me from the good memories... and i start to avoid him all together.. i don't want to talk about him or hear about him.. because i know what is hiding in the shadows of my brain...

these are the demons that i live with.. and i don't know how to get rid of them... except to release them.. here.. or maybe to talk about it...but how is that going to happen when i work to avoid it all?

it's a cycle... and one that has to be broken for my own sanity...

through his eyes

2011-03-18T12:07:00.000-07:00

i love this photo... take a good look at it... at first my my brother and i laughed because we thought it was silly for our dad to take a photo of his rodeo gear... you see a saddle, boots, hat and duffel bag.... and a chipmunk! if you saw the chipmunk right away then good for you.. cause it took us a while...

this photo also makes me think of my dad.. not just because it is his stuff... and a memory from his past but because we get to see something through his eyes...

my dad had eagle eyes, which is baffling because i have keratoconus (a disorder having to do with the cone shape of my corneas), i don't see much detail... i don't see depth... like the edges of curbs.. it is a frustrating issue that i am going to be seeing a specialist about very soon concerning possible permanent options including a cornea transplant....

so much of my life... even before i knew i had this issue.. my dad would spot a deer or other animal and i never got to see it... i just thought there was a bit of magic in him.. some left over native american intuition with nature that i didn't have... but it was just the way he "saw" things.. ok so maybe he was more in tune with nature than most of us.. but there was no trick to it... it was just quietness and patience... the man could sit with a fishing pole for hours before recasting... and came back hunting season after hunting season without a trophy.. but plenty of stories of what he saw

as i try to continue to learn from him i have begun to practice patience more intensely... i listen harder.. i do my pit bull jump at your throat less... it is the part of me that gets me into the most trouble... and what i have learned is that life is much easier if i just let it happen. it meaning life... i can enjoy my life (without being completely content with my situation).. i can enjoy the beauty life has to offer...

the snow is quickly melting as mu yard has turned green in a matter of a day... soon my bleeding heart bush will come out of hibernation and spring will be here... spring is the ultimate sign of renewal.. and if i don't watch patiently i might miss it...

my dad very clearly was in love with life... it was apparent in how he chose to live his life... i want that... i don't want to just see the rodeo gear anymore.. i want to see that chipmunk in everything i do

Guest Blogger: Natalie ... why we walk

2011-03-02T10:50:00.000-08:00

This is my mom and i.. at the end of one of the many walks we did... can you he how thrilled i was to be there? haha

when i was younger i was "dragged" to walks of all kinds... cancer walks, hands across america... i was the cute little chubby girl coming in last as volunteers were cleaning up.. i still am that cute chubby girl.. i just don't come in last anymore..but i wasn't ever able to understand why i was walking.. what it meant... other than my mom promised mcdonald's after we were done...

as an adult who has been affected by cancer i can understand and appreciate the kinship of the cattle heard heading to the finish line...

to read "why i walk"- a past blog entry click here:

http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/05/why-i-walk.html

this past weekend was the Climb to Conquer Cancer in Phoenix... my cousin Natalie was able to get a team together, for the 2nd year, in honor of my papa...

the back of the team shirts

when i see this picture of the group i don't just see people walking for my dad.. i see some cousins who lost another cousin to brain cancer last year.. i see another cousin who lost an aunt to a long battle with cancer.. i see yet another cousin whose mom is a breast and kidney cancer survivor and whose father is battling lung cancer..and of course i see my mom and my brother, making my daddy proud...

i asked Natalie to blog about the uphill 10k for me, as i obviously couldn't be there.. but i also wanted to read what she had to say as i know papa was going to be weighing heavily on her mind while she walked... Natalie took such amazing care of my dad from his first appointment with his oncologist, to dressing him before the funeral... she is also able to get me to release when she knows i need to, when no one else can... i love you Nat, thanks for writing this:

“He left us quietly, His thoughts unknown, but He left us memories that we are proud to own”

As young children we would participate in the cancer walk not really knowing the reality of what cancer could do and those it could affect. As we matured and continued to participate in this annual walk, we began to understand just exactly what cancer was and why so many people continued to walk every year. However, never in a million years did we ever think our lives would be changed so drastically by this disease in such a short time and that we would be walking today in memory of our loved one, Uncle Robert.

As the day approached, we were ready to go, with a smile on our face and so many mixed emotions. Our team was made up of family and friends and each one of them had a special connection to our Uncle Robert. The shirts we wore had a special loving message printed on the back to let others know that we were walking in memory of our loved one.

During our walk we would share stories with one another about how he had touched our lives, things he would say or do and how we missed him dearly. We all survived the 5.5 mile walk, even the kids did great! We all met at the top of the mountain and signed the large American Cancer Society banner with a special message about Uncle Robert. As we continued to hike down, we continued to share stories of our camping trips, vacations and time we spent with him and how he would take us on hikes and point out every plant, or bird or even rock! He paid so much attention to each individual, young or old and made you feel so special and loved.

What an awesome day we shared and we are truly blessed to have had Uncle Robert in our lives and his memories live on in each and every one of us.

“We walked today for those who survived, we walked today for those who are battling and we walked today in memory of those that we have loved and lost much too soon.”

editor comment- who is uncle robert? haha nat.. to you he will always be robbie... the only one who could get away with that.. :)

taking back Bobby McGee... fat chance

2011-02-16T12:27:00.000-08:00

this is my papa rocking out to his mp3 player...my cousins bought it for him to use while going through chemo.. but if the batteries were juiced up, he used them to ignore us :0)

my dad instilled a great love of all kinds of music in me.. it was (still is) totally normal for our family to break out in song at any given time

as i start to bring up more and more things i have written about before. i am trying to keep you guys in the loop by posting links to blog posts that give more insight to whatever i am writing about.. so the music posts are found here:

http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/04/adding-yet-another-stage.html
http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/05/alright-it-was-bound-to-come-up.html

something got into me over the weekend... i went through my anger stage long ago.. i was angry at the world... at "friends" and family.. i was angry at cancer, at the doctor.. but at no time was i mad at my dad... well what took me so long i can't say... but this weekend.. for a brief moment. i felt so angry at him.. for leaving us, for not seeing a doctor sooner, for trusting the wrong people... for so many stupid reasons,,for things that really were not his fault...but i hear that's normal right?
somehow in my manic state i decided that i would stick it to him.. i was going to take back Bobby McGee.. yes.. the song... it was our song.. he introduced me to Janis Joplin and Kris Kristofferson at a time when all i longed for was Tiffany and Debbie Gibson.. and i will be forever grateful to him for that.. but damnit.. i wanted Bobby McGee back.. it is the one song that i will belt out at the top of my lungs no matter who is around to hear the carnage..
so out of anger i put the song on repeat and scrubbed my toilet, cleaned my floors, folded laundry (this is amazing, because if you know me you know this never happens)... and i sang.. i sang my heart out... until my anger was gone..
and don't you know the man took his song back!!! about the 12th time i listened to it.. i broke.. and sobbed.. and so... ol' Janis is put away.. yet again
you can have the song daddy.. for now...

"i'd trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday..."

another 5 things you should know about my papa

2011-01-28T14:34:00.000-08:00

this is part 3 of the "5 things" series.. below are the links to part 1 and 2:

http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/04/5-things-you-must-know-about-my-papa.html

http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/05/5-more-things-you-should-know-about-my.html

i recently explained my insomnia out loud and realized something.. i am controlling it... it is never that i can't sleep.. it is always that i don't want to... there are nights when i refuse to close my eyes.. because i know i will see things i don't want to.. i know i will see my daddy sick and frail.. i know i will relive his sickest moments.. so i don't sleep.. i pop in a disney movie or crochet until i can think of happy things...so last night as i was up.. too cold to get out of bed to watch a movie or crochet... i stared into the blackness and came up with another 5 things i want you to know about my papa:

my dad was never bored: he could easily amuse himself... usually by making some kind of animal call with his mouth.. his favorite was a javelina call.. one particularly uneventful fishing trip comes to mind... on one side of the lake sat my dad, myself, my brother and my husband.. on the other was a pair of men... then after an entire day of nibbles my dad begins to call in these phantom javelina... the men across the lake didn't realize that the horrible sound was coming from my dad.. they looked left and right for the large hairy pig.. when they realized it was my dad they laughed in relief and we all called it a day...

he liked trying new things: on one trip to San Fransisco he talked us all into trying "authentic" Chinese food... lets just say it involved a few live things.. and some tepid octopus... not to mention the time he decided to take up skate boarding and went out and bought himself a skate board complete with vicious looking cobra on the deck

he loved kids: before i came along he doted on his nieces and nephews.. each of us, it seems, had our own song... most didn't have words.. just a cute little tune.. either way.. we were are very special to him

he didn't drink: he sipped... he nursed.. possibly before i was born and in his younger years he did.. but what i like about this is that he didn't need to.. he was fun and laid back all on his own... he was real.. all the time

he was slow: he drove slow, ate slow, walked slow.. and it drove people nuts... i am sure it drove me nuts a time or two... but now when i think about it, i can appreciate it... that he didn't rush through life... he was always stopping to smell the roses...

It's a love without end.. amen

2011-01-24T12:26:00.000-08:00

have you ever heard that song "let me tell you a secret about a father's love, a secret that my daddy said was just between us. you see daddy's don't just love their children every now and then, it's a love without end.. amen"?

so i wasn't going to write today, truth be told i haven't much felt like writing.. as usual i am trying to hold in some things i just don't want to think about much less write about.. i tried to get some of you to write for me (please note that guest blogs are always welcome, write about a memory.. or write about your own lost loved one, or a cancer experience, it would certainly help me out during times like these when i just don't want to write, email posts to amberumen@yahoo.com)

i digress... by saying that it is not the writing that is the problem.. it is the sharing..i keep some things just for me, i am open, albeit sometimes too open... but sometimes.. i know some of you worry about me and i don't want that.. i just want to feel within myself... all the while knowing that writing is what is going to help me in the long run.. yes it is a vicious cycle.. i know...

digressing yet again and back to the topic at hand... (are you following my tangents ok?)... the song came on today, as i was reformatting and dealing with blog issues.. and i thought.. well there is my sign.. wait.. one more tangent... i need to say that i don't necessarily believe nor need signs from my dad, so that is not what i mean here... only that the song was saying "hey dummy, you can't hide.. just write"

it also reminded me about new years... my cousin had suggested and planned new years eve in her home.. the idea was to have it far enough that we could get away from thinking what new years meant (the anniversary of papa's passing)... we could cut loose.. relax.. enjoy and cry if need be.. which is exactly what we needed.. we had done so well through Christmas...i for one was busy trying to be strong.. hide.. avoid.. you get the picture by now... and my strength was hanging by a tread on this night...

i danced, laughed, played games, ate way too many tamales... all the while knowing.. dreading what feelings would surface come midnight...

at midnight my cousin prayed in the new year... and off he and my brother went to ring the cowbell http://fighthopeheal.blogspot.com/2010/04/lifetime-of-lessons-on-his-last-day-of.html and it came... the feeling that i worked so hard to suppress.. it came... and i kept saying to myself.. it has been a year... it shouldn't feel this fresh.. it shouldn't hurt this much... but it did... and it does... as my cousins and brother circled back in dad's truck after literally ringing in the new year i caught the song that was blasting on the radio..it was that song... again.. not a sign from my dad who is blissfully camping in the most glorious woods we should ever be so blessed to see.. but a sign none the less.. to get the heck out of the bathroom and cry if i need to cry... and cry i did...

and so what if i had to stop a few times while writing this post to cry... a girl has got to do what a girl has got to do right?

where do i start?

2011-01-07T10:49:00.000-08:00

epic, healing, confirming, fun, sad.... those are all words to describe my recent trip home...

we celebrated Christmas, New Years and my birthday for the first time without papa... we also let pass the anniversary of him leaving this earth...bear with me.. this is a long one...

epic- i began this list of 30 things i have never done 30 days before my 30th birthday... i knew that without time and cash flow i would have to count even this little things... but i learned something as the 30 days passed... this was about life... every day we do new things.. we have new experiences without so much as a grand parade.. but what i got out of my list was that life is full of wonders.. even little ones.. and for 30 days i really REALLY enjoyed and appreciated every day that God has given me...

watched an entire episode of Glee... wasn't as bad as i thought it would be
apologized first (even though i still think i was right)
drove on a nonexistent suspended license
stayed patiently on hold for 46 minutes and did not hang up till someone picked up
called a radio station to talk about sports
went a whole 9 days without shaving my legs (my old record was 7)
wore a dress to work (ok i mean in a classroom setting, i have worn many dresses when i worked in an office)
made my mom's sugar cookies from scratch, from MEMORY (this was out of pure necessity as i am terrified of ever asking her for that recipe again)
answered my phone "ahoy hoy" it was someone from my dr's office and they totally ignored it
walked barefoot in snow for 10 seconds.. word to the wise.. DO NOT put your feet in warm water right afterward
paid for coffee for the person behind me at the Tim Horton’s drive thru
sat in the front section of the airplane, the noise isn’t worth the extra leg room
was serenaded by a fat man playing a ukulele at the airport
played Just Dance on the Wii (warning if you have this game do not tell me, apparently I am an addict)
rode in the back of a pick up truck, as an adult
laughed so hard I peed my pants, as an adult
laughed so hard I woke up with a sore face, as an adult
tried a spider roll.. yum
ate an entire meal with chopsticks, I usually switch to a fork for rice
ate and enjoyed eel sauce
did NOT have menudo on Christmas day :( (this is my least favorite)
rode Phoenix’s above ground subway system (the light rail), with superman no less!
sang Disney karaoke
played Rock Band with a complete band
played “headbands,” super fun!
was not the youngest person playing a game, when the rules said to start with the youngest person (this is my 2nd least favorite)
went on a random search for Doritos
spent over 450.00 at one store, on my own
visited a county clinic
watched an entire season of weeds in a matter of hours

healing- it is no secret that my brother and i have been hurt with my dad's family for all but abandoning us... but as i reconciled with 3 of my daddy's sisters over the holiday i realized my hurt and anger was displaced.. i can not place my feelings on other people.. i have to take on my feelings as my own... i fully understood that they did not know nor understand why we would feel hurt... i can not expect my papa's family to meet these unattainable standards.. my anger melted away... i am done.. it's over... and i can move forward loving like my daddy taught me to...

confirming- in the same way that i am my papa's daughter my brother truly is his son (this is when the tears come... if i am welling up.. i know you are too.. and i am sorry.. but if you think "this is too hard to read" understand that it is harder to write) my brother is driving... my dad's truck... but in the way that he is built like him, walks like him, is stubborn like him, ponders like him... my heart felt full and broke at the same time.. watching him cross the threshold of adulthood without our dad... i am so proud of the man he is becoming..i see him growing up, making better decisions.. driving on the freeway for the first time.. and i know.. it has to be hard for him.. to miss his dad.. his best friend..and also deal with the fear of being abandoned once more.. .the fear of mortality is not one that a 17 year old boy should have to deal with.. so the fact that he wakes up every day and does what he needs to do. is a tribute to the strength that dad gave us...

fun- i think i laughed more in the two weeks that i was home, than i ever have in my 30 years and one day of life... laughter is something that we need... with every haha.. i feel myself becoming lighter.. with every hehe i feel my soul beginning to mend.. and this time.. i realized i wasn't feeling the guilt that came after the laughter like a bitter aftertaste... guilt that we were living and laughing without papa...

sad- yesterday was my birthday.. last year on this day i attended my daddy's wake.. today, last year.. i watched his coffin be lowered into the ground... i tried to be busy... to listen to my books on tape, watched movies, slept, cleaned, shopped... all day yesterday.... and i did well with that plan.. but as soon as the stillness and quiet came last night, i pictured his body in the coffin.. i pictured him.fragile listening to the bible on cd.. i pictures him as he lay there on that hospice delivered bed.. holding my hand.. looking into my eyes... and try as i might to change the channel in my brain...i saw all of the things i never wanted to relive again... crying is supposed to be healing... i am still waiting for that feeling to come today... it will come though... it will...

i am my father's daughter

2010-12-18T11:12:00.000-08:00

last night, and i don't know how we got onto this subject, someone asked me if i knew why a woodpecker knocks on trees the way they do... i said "of course i know, i am my father's daughter"... because yes i do know why.. and i can tell you why i know and the circumstances as to how i learned the answer...

and i started to think.. there are many tidbits of seemingly useless knowledge that i have... because of my papa.. there are also specific traits and skills i have because of him... and as i thought about the woodpecker... i realized these things were taught... things i take for granted were lovingly taught to be by my papa...

i know how to fish.. from the casting to the gutting (although i refuse to do the icky stuff.. yes, i do know how)

i know how to build and start a fire

i know how to pitch a tent of all kinds with out the dumb directions

i know how to sit still and listen to nature

i know how to get my bearings and not panic if i am lost (i know this all too well, thanks papa for getting us lost in the first place haha)

i know the practicalities of knowing fractions

i know how to shoot, and i am a good shot

i know how to jump a vehicle

i know how to grease a disc brake and change a tire

i know the lyrics to all the songs in the world that matter

i know how to brush my teeth with a stick

and i know how to pee just about anywhere

yup, i am my father's daughter!

gifts

2010-12-02T12:33:00.000-08:00

this is a little statue my cousin gave me to over the thanksgiving holiday.. it was very touching.. especially because sometimes i think people are afraid to bring him up or remind me of him.. and in getting this for me it showed she thought of us.. not just me but us... thank you!

in just a few weeks i will be home with my family... and we will celebrate Christmas without papa...this is an idea that i thought i had gotten used to.. until i began, as most of us are doing now, shopping for gifts... i found myself picking things up to buy for my dad... then being hit.. yet again with the reality that he will not be there (when does this stop happening by the way? i am no longer in denial.. right? so why does this happen? i am really ready for that fresh feeling of pain to stop)... well over the weekend.. i really did buy a gift... i rationalized that i had bought it for my mom.. but once i got it home i had to be honest with myself in that i actually bought it for him... i called my brother... "is it weird to buy and wrap a gift for dad?" "not weird, just really sad"... we decided that he would open the gift... i find myself wondering how many years will we do this before we stop including him entirely?

on the subject of gifts i asked a question today... what was the best gift you were ever given.. and the answer had to be something tangible... we all love our families and appreciate the love we get from friends.. i had a hard time coming up with one... i appreciate everything i receive.. if someone gives you something it means they were thinking of you.. and that is what matters most... but.. in choosing i remembered how my cousin took me for a pedicure last year on my birthday.. it wasn't just my birthday.. it was also the day of my papa's wake... (more on that later)... i was happy to go.. especially because it meant i would spend quality time with one of my most favorite people.. but in getting there and being pampered... i was really able to relax... the massage chair worked out all the knots i didn't know i had been building up.. it was such a release... papa was no longer in pain.. and as much as i ached for him.. i was able to breathe.. to let a little bit of it go and be flushed with the foot bath water.... if you know someone who has lost someone... yes the casseroles and plants are nice.. they are very appreciated... but concider giving the person a neutral place and time to let.. go...

turkey day

2010-11-24T11:24:00.000-08:00

truth be told i never liked thanksgiving... i've always thought it was a silly holiday.. we eat.. then we eat some more.. but.. at least we get together with family and i suppose that is what matters... i hadn't spent thanksgiving with my family in quite a while... we would fly out for Christmas or they would come here so it didn't make sense to take two trips a month apart... and that has always been pretty okay with me...

but last year we were blessed to spend one last thanksgiving together.. as a complete family.. last year on this day we were picking up my husband at the airport... i was readying him for what he was going to see..the last time he had seen my dad he looked pretty well.. he was easily tired.. but was walking... and still had a considerable amount of weight on him... what he was going to see is our big strong papa.. in a wheel chair... thin... far from frail.. but needing more help... he was not going to be able to talk with him as he would have in years past... he was going to avoid talking about hunting for fear that it would make papa sad that he was unable to be in his beloved outdoors... also at this point papa wasn't talking a ton.. and the morphine made him less and less lucid..

the day went without incident.. my husband was very optimistic.. until that night when we clung to each other and for the frist time really sobbed.. together... we never lost hope as a family until papa's last day on earth.. but i think that night we both realized that losing him was inevitable... and our new hope was for more time...

what we were given instead of more time.. was a good day... thanksgiving if i remember right was a good day.... there wasn't a ton of pain and papa discovered he could eat mashed potatoes.. which later turned into a couple late night runs to KFC... and i remember him wanting for us to go home... (to my mom's house because we were at my aunts) to have a singing contest... because we were playing rockstar on the wii... we didn't.. but he was well enough to go to my other aunts home for desert... and i believe still feeling entitled to his singing contest... had my aunt play the guitar for him.. he remembered a song he used to sing to my cousin when she was little.. and while i wasn't there for this event.. the story goes that he had her sit in front of him while he sang "i love" by tom t. hall... i mist up every time i hear that story that my cousin bravely told at his funeral.. and it is a bitter sweet blessing that i wasn't there for that... i had worked so hard to be strong for him... to show him i could handle anything.. truth be told.. i could not have handled that...

again..in my papa's way.. he gave us a wonderful thanksgiving to remember... and this thanksgiving... of course we will be thinking of him and missing him... but pssssssst... i'm still stressing about Christmas :)

just a reminder... if you would like to contribute to my blog as a "guest blogger" (and please do, as i am sure there are many wonderful memories that i wasn't present for, or would like to hear from a different point of view).. if you would like to write about my papa, cancer or loss... please email an entry, photo or memory to amberumen@yahoo.com

not the reaction i was hoping for...but maybe the one i needed

2010-11-17T04:38:00.000-08:00

here is my papa about to open his traditional gift of Stetson cologne.. that he miraculously ran out of every year around Christmas time!

i had been putting it off.. my mouth would go dry and my palms would get itchy... and i could already hear his voice... i could already see his 6 year old face.. i could already see his little fists balled up in pensive anticipation... because this is the way i picture my brother when i have to say something i don't want to... but the moment came when i just had to say it... "i think we should skip Christmas this year".. about 5 very slow seconds passed before he looked at my mom and asked "is she stupid? are you hearing this?" at which point i begin to make my case... "i don't know if i can handle it this year... it is just going to be too hard.. how about we all go to Disney land instead?".... i was so confident that the Disney land thing would work.. it didn't..."then what?" he asked.. with that same stupid smirk on his face.. full well knowing he had us all where he wanted us..."are we going to cancel birthdays too?"

so... we are NOT skipping Christmas... we are facing it.. whether WE want to or not... so.. i have put my game face on.. i decorated the house early... super early... i have yet to turn on the Christmas music for fear that one of the songs that we sang to him that last Christmas eve will be playing...

i just see him.. so frail.. so sick.. on that last Christmas.. my goodness it was only a few days before he took his last breath... it would be easier to face had he been healthy or were i able to think of him healthy.... we did have beautiful memories... he fought so hard to stay lucid.. to give us a good one...

there was a moment that replays in my mind... my uncle had just put french doors in the kitchen instead of the huge heavy window door... it was finally done and my dad seemed to be gazing in that direction.. my mom asked "what are you thinking about?" (keep in mind that this is a loaded question and while we asked it from time to time i don't think we ever really were ready or an actual answer) my dad answered "about next Christmas"... my mom asked "what about next Christmas?" a whole minute passed....and i can tell you from experience i know what was going through her mind... i knew the answers she thought that were going to come out of his mouth... instead of any of those he said "just thinking about how to decorate the doors" a breathe of relief was heard around the world...this moment reminds me of what he was willing to do for us... the brave face he put on for us...

so.. can i do this for my brother? sure i can... do i hate that he was right all along? sure i do!

on God.. and faith part 3

2010-11-09T11:57:00.000-08:00

i was recently talking to someone (sometimes i forget that blogging is entirely MY choice and no one else's, so i have to try to respect other's privacy if i am going to blog about a discussion or event that he/she is a part of.. but i digress) i was talking to this person about Heaven... i was shocked to find out that he did not believe in Heaven... he did not believe in any kind of existence after death... his theory was that when we die there is darkness.. nothing more..

one thing my papa taught me with his faith is that it is VERY MUCH a choice... you can believe... or not... he never said this... but he showed it in his faith.. in his choice to give his life to God... and his choice to trust that there would be a beautiful life after he was gone...

as a skeptic.. think about this... consider a child.. born into an abusive situation.. the worst you can think of.. imagine this child's life cut short by this abuse... what would be the point of this child's life if there wasn't a Heaven.. if there wasn't someplace that her soul could go to.. to heal.. to become complete? consider my papa who spoke to God in his prayers as if he were in the room... my papa was new in his faith... but old friends with God...

so is it harmful for that little girl, my papa or me to believe that there is a life after this one... do i know what it is or what it holds? no... but can't i chose to believe it is full of beauty.. and a chance to see my papa again?

an hour after our conversation, he came back and said... i chose to believe in Heaven... i want to see (your) dad again... so if i have to stretch my beliefs to do that some day... i can...

dear papa, we are finding our way.. just hold tight... we will see you again...

enjoying the moment part 2

2010-11-03T15:21:00.000-07:00

the bride's bouquet with a little picture of my papa hanging from it....the maid of honor and my own bouquet had one as well

i was feeling such anxiety about the wedding... i think we all were... it was going to be too obvious that my papa was missing.. especially because he loved the couple so much and was a strong supporter of their love....i also didn't want my missing him to overtake my joy for them...

he was missed.. very missed... but i am glad to report we did well.. as a group... his absence was noticed but i thank the bride and the maid of honor for making him a part of it all... while i worried that having his picture on our bouquets as well as the "in memory" flowers set next to the guest book.. would make me miss him more.. instead it felt good to know he was there with us... within us... this made it easy to enjoy the much anticipated moment...

the daddy daughter dance was hard knowing i would never dance with my own father.. ever again... but watching Katy look so beautiful and happy made all that disappear... sure there were tears... but more than that.. there was happiness... and dancing.. lots of dancing... i think we did him proud... he would be proud to know we were able to support Katy in the way that she needed instead of being stuck in our grief....

now... time to tackle Christmas... yikes...

10 months

2010-11-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

it is a bittersweet day papa... today i am reminded of the mixed blessing of death... i miss you so much... and you missed so much this month.. but i know last Halloween night was one of your worst.. i know how much pain you were in just one year ago yesterday... maybe in the most pain you had been in throughout the fight...

so while i hurt for you... and need you every second of the day... i also have to thank God that you are no longer in pain... that your fight was not long... that you passed with dignity... and that you are in heaven.

thinking of you in pain is not something that is easy for me to cope with... i also thought of you as i danced all night on Saturday... i thought of how hard it must have been for you to succumb to a wheelchair... to know you would not do your silly dances again... it's not just the physical pain you were in.. but the mental anguish of worrying about us and the realization you must have felt about what was happening.. it is when i think of those things that i can actually thank God for taking you when he did...

i love you papa... and i want so bad to see you smile at me.. or even frown at me... i want to kiss the top of you head...and i want to mean it when i tell people that i am ok.. that everything will be ok... today in this hour.. this minute.. i will allow myself a moment to think it won't...

always,

ana marie

adventures of a shirt

2010-10-27T11:36:00.000-07:00

i made a couple of shirts to wear during various cancer walks i have done this year.. one of them exclaims CANCER SUCKS in big green letters.... the shirt didn't get much more than a glance at the couple of cancer walks i had worn it to... but recently i have worn it out and about... grocery shopping etc... mostly during laundry day :0)

and there is something that i have noticed.... there are so many people out there that have been touched in some way by cancer.. and they all want to talk about it...

it starts with "i like your shirt, where did you get it?" when i tell them i made it, they want to know why... i tell them about papa.. and they have a story to match...

the check out lady at the grocery store lost her six year old daughter a few years ago. she has never done a walk nor has she been a part of any cancer community... she didn't even know support groups existed.... the woman at micheal's has helped me pick out yarn many times... turns out she lost her dad on christmas day... he had lung and prostate cancer...

there is a man who was at the car wash.. his wife is in remission... another man there lost his mom to breast cancer...he has a picture of her in his wallet that he wants to show us....

when i go to turn in my hours for pay at the district office there is a temp. working for the usual secretary... she had oviarian cancer... and her oldest daughter was just diagnosed with the same at stage 4... her daughter is only 32... and the woman cried openly...

if i could i would make shirts for all of those people... and the others who give me thumbs up.. or say... "yeah it does"....

we know all too well that cancer does suck! it sure does!

Don't forget those who have lost...

2010-10-21T12:31:00.000-07:00

Don't forget those who have lost

we don't have the luxury of memory

our dads, moms, daughters, and sons are gone

but still, we remember..and your world spins

don't forget those who mourn

it has been weeks, months...maybe years

when do you stop needing what is missing?

but still, we need..and your world spins

don't forget those who cry

we hide, we choke down, we avoid

we don't want to burden..burn the bridges we use

but still, we feel..and your world spins

don't forget those who have lost

we can't..and the world still spins

2010-10-21T12:04:00.000-07:00

ready for a mishmash of feelings and thoughts?
i have been going through those feelings again... when i am driving i see the leaves.. yellows, oranges and reds that are so bright they make my eyes hurt... and i feel sorry for my dad that he can not see them... i watch my friend's children laugh and smile and think my dad will miss out on grandchildren... but i have to work on wiping those feelings out of my mind.. if i truly believe in heaven then i have to believe that my dad is seeing things and experiencing things that are so brilliant there are no human words for them... i have to rationalize that i am missing him.. and what i want is to selfishly have him here to share in these things with me...
i had an eventful day at work and of course i think of calling him... (when he was home after he had to stop working i would call him in the day to tell him about my crazy adorable students)... i called my mom instead... and while i love talking to my mom it just wasn't the same... i wanted to hear my dad's laughter...
a week from today i will be flying home for my cousins's wedding.. i am so happy and excited for her.. but also terrified of what it will feel like to have the family together.. and see that he is missing... there will be an empty chair.. but really there is this huge empty space in me.. in us... and i am so anxious and nervous.. my brother will be in a tuz.. and my dad will not see that... katy and juan.. who my papa loved.. will start their lives together and my papa won't be there... i can't even wrap my mind fully around all that...
there is no lesson learned in this post.. there are no heart warming stories... just how i have been feeling in the past few weeds...

Journal part 1

2010-10-10T12:49:00.000-07:00

before my papa passed i kept a written journal.. every entry is a letter to him that was never sent... much of it are things that i did not say to him for fear of scaring or burdening him... here is an entry written one year ago today:

Dear Papa, 10/10/09

my goodness it's been so long since i have written in this journal.. maybe because i have spent much of the last few months home.. with you... now i have been back in michigan for almost a month and i am having another one of those days.. when you are on my mind.. and today i realized something.. that this really is the worst.. my very worst fear... did you know that when i was little i used to hear your truck start for work.. i would wake up and watch you drive away and i would cry... at the time i don't think i understood why.. but today i realized that i was scared that you would not come back...saying goodbye has always been so hard to do with you... even over the phone i choke up when it's time to hang up... and now.. my ultimate fear is being realized.. that i may have to say that last goodbye..
today i miss you so much.. and i want to call you just to hear your voice.. but i am afraid of breaking down and being weak when what you need is for me to be strong.. so today i will avoid calling you.. and today will be the day that i let myself break down,,,
mom told me you were avoiding me too...you don't answer my calls when you are having bad days.. but dad that's not fair.. i hide from so much of it on my won..i can't have you adding to that.. i can't have you allowing me to be an ostrich.. emilio and mom can't hide from it.. they live it everyday... why should i be exempt...

fight dad, please beat this... i need you to beat this...
ana marie

9 months

2010-10-01T03:12:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

another month has passed without you... the leaves are changing here, my forget-me-nots are dying... time won't stop... and you won't come back.. but our family needs you more than ever.. i think we second guess ourselves at every move because we are so afraid of leaving you out..
we can't have you here with us but we hang on to every thread of you... what would dad say? what would dad do? what would dad want? ..i know.. we are scared of loosing you any more than we already have... we haven't quite found our footing... sure we move past every day... we wake up.. we get out of bed (sometimes)...we live..and mostly people see us that way.. but inside..we are teetering on this very thin rope.. balancing our pain with responsibilities... which will win out today?
more and more life wins that battle.. little by little we make it across... it's the 1st of the month and i have to go to work.. i have to push you out of my brain for 7 hours... life wins today dad... and i know you would approve

your daughter

2010-09-17T12:08:00.000-07:00

I hadn't blogged in a while so I am making up for lost time :)

also, if you would like to "guest blog" and add a memory or feelings about cancer, my papa, or the grieving process please email me an entry to amberumen@yahoo.com and I will be happy to post it here.. thanks!

There are few things that would cause my papa to lose his patience... very few... even still.. you would hardly know when his limit was reached... if he was trying to wake my brother up in the morning, he just kept telling him to get up... but when he said "ok get up son".. it was sure enough time to get up... another tell tail sign is if he used the word "stupid"... stupid.. didn't mean.. just.. stupid.. it was like his version of cussing... stupid.. was the ultimate straw...
one thing he really did not like was texting… it was stupid… there was nothing worse to him than texting or playing with your phone while “visiting” with him… there was one instance when we were together at a restraint for a cousin’s birthday.. he was not feeling good and was in no small amount of pain.. but he wanted to be there for my cousin… my brother and I didn’t know that he was upset until he had us alone.. he was so disappointed in all of us for texting during the birthday lunch.. “what was the point of coming?” he asked.. no one talked to each other… I feel so bad about that day knowing how much pain he was in and the trouble he went through just to be there… and we were just… stupid…
He didn’t like the idea of texting over calling either…there was no connection in that… doesn’t “I love you” get lost in translation? doesn’t it mean more when you go to the trouble of calling and talking to someone? my brother got me thinking.. (sorry mom you won’t like this)..I flipped him off one day and he said..”you know.. that would mean more if you used your toes or something…if you went to the trouble of learning to flip me off with your toes.. then I would really be offended”… and it applies here… don’t text me “I love you”, “happy birthday”, “thinking of you”… tell me.. talk to me.. connect with me.. show me….
So.. as my papa was in his last hours there was a cousin who pulled his phone out to text… and I stopped him.. and asked him to leave the room…not rudely.. but I wanted to pass on my papa’s lesson…
I think we are learning.. and it still amazes me how much we will continue to learn from him even when he is not here to teach us….

why fight it?

2010-09-17T11:14:00.000-07:00

i think it must have been my brother's birthday (Tuesday) that stirred up all these feelings... and i have made an important discovery about the grieving process... simply put...you can not hide...it will find you...
i worked at staying strong.. i noticed that even when i was alone i was pushing away the painful things.... the things i don't like to remember... but like i said.. it found me
my brain betrayed me... thursday morning's dreams were a constant cycle dreaming about him, like snippets of memories... then (still dreaming) realizing it is just a dream...i cried in my dreams knowing that when i woke up i would not be seeing him... i woke up crying and kept it up most of the day... doesn't help that it rained all day... i just couldn't shake that feeling of the disappointment of waking up to a reality in which he no longer exists.. i was so safe in my dreams.. in his arms..
recently i reconnected with a friend who lost her dad to this monster when she was a teen... many years later she still hurts... so i need to stop acting as if there is a light at the end of this tunnel... this pain is forever... all i.. all we.. can do is live with it... move forward... and quit fighting the grief... because it will find you...

Stand Up 2 Cancer

2010-09-06T12:18:00.001-07:00

StandUp2Cancer telethon airs Friday...if you would like to make a donation in my Papa's honor, or in honor of any fighting or fallen loved love affected by this monster we call cancer, please follow this link

please feel free to forward this link too!!!

https://www.standup2cancer.org/?c=donate&su2ccs=PRUPTO2009-8372

8 months

2010-09-01T09:49:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

today marks 8 months that you have been gone...there is a child's voice within me saying "come back now"... the rational adult in me won't let her talk.... i have been suppressing that child who wants so much just to sit on your feet while you read magazines at Walden Books..... i keep her from reminding me what your stubbled face felt like on her lips when she kissed you goodnight... i keep her from crying... from remembering... from hurting... but today.. she's won... today she is free to feel.. even if it is pain....

i miss you papa.. i miss you no less today than i did 8 months ago... i think i began to miss you sooner than that... it's funny... i think the sicker you became.the more i needed you... and now that you are gone.. have been gone.. i need you even more...

i know that you would not want me to feel this..i know if you were able to see me now you would feel helpless... know that i am okay.. for the most part. i am getting by.. i am living and loving life.. i take your memory with me.. and i trudge on...

but today... today i am just that little girl.. and she needs her daddy....

always,

ana marie

Guest Blogger- Katy

2010-08-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

I realized, or i was reminded, that i hadn't blogged in a while... i am dealing with some feelings of disappointment and anger that could easily be displaced in this blog... so i have kept myself from writing until i work through these feelings..so this is my first "guest blog" post... if you would like to share a memory, story or thoughts please email them to me at amberumen@yahoo.com, i hope to have at least one "guest blogger" a month...

this is katy. my papa tended to "adopt" his nieces and nephews and became a father figure to them in the process..it is such an honor to my brother and i to know that others love him and cherish him as much as we do...katy is the baby of this group of "adopted" sons and daughters..the following is what she wanted to share as she reflected yesterday (her birthday).

"This year has been so full of change. Losing my Tio Robert, graduating college, buying a house, starting my career, and getting married. So many changes it’s sometimes…well a lot of the time is just hard to deal. I remember sitting there at my graduation thinking about my Tio and how I’m actually doing something that he would be proud of. Not another tattoo…or something silly I know he didn’t care too much about. But actually something that would make him proud. After graduation we went to dinner…my Tia gave me a graduation card and signed his name. This made everything I was feeling just come to the surface. I felt him and missed him with every fiber of my being. As these other milestones have approached I can’t help but think of him. Like today, I thought of him and wondered what kind of musical card I would get...because that was his thing. My friend’s mom gave me a musical card tonight, very similar with the same exact characters of the card he got me for my birthday last year. It made me feel like he was there tonight. I still miss him and think of him every day. Just thinking about getting married, hurts my heart. That is going to be such a sad day, without Robert and where the wedding is taking place. It’s morbid for me to think this way, but I use to think…if anything happened to my dad...I wouldn’t want either brother walking me down the aisle, I’d want my second dad, Robert. I really love him like a dad….and I just can’t imagine October 30th without him."

thank you katy.. i love you!

seriously almost choked when i heard about this:

2010-08-15T09:49:00.000-07:00

This is precisely why I wanted to blog about my own grieving process… of course I wanted to share my dad’s story… and share memories… but this is what gets to me!

What is Prolonged Greif Disorder (formally known as Complicated Grief Disorder)? It is just another way of saying “get over it already”

According to http://www.grief-healing-support.com/complicated-grief.html, I have PGD... and should seek treatment…HA!

You also have PGD if you experience at least one of the following symptoms

Intrusive thoughts related to the lost relationship

Intense feelings or emotional pain, sorrow, or pangs or grief related to the lost relationship

Yearning for the lost person

Hi… who doesn’t yearn for the person they have lost?

You also have PGD if you have been mourning your loss for more than “six months”…. hmmmm well I am now in month 7 and while I am healing I am also doing so ON MY OWN TIME!

So wait.. now that I know that I have PGD how.. oh how.. do I treat it?

“Get more sleep, manage stress and emotions, practice relaxation techniques, and pay attention to life in the moment and without judgment...”

Hmmmm sounds to me like a coping mechanism for a little thing called LIFE!!!!

And there it is right there… this is life.. loss is a part of life… and while there are better ways to live we all have to choose our own paths… that being said…there is no guide book or guide lines as to how to deal with loss.. there is no time line for grief…. I have said it many times.. this is a loss one carries forever… it is not a wound that can be healed… one simply learns to live with it….

So.. if you have stumbled upon my blog following the loss of a loved one.. and you are now part of a club that no one wants to voluntarily join.. then know this… your story is your own… your feelings are your own… if my blog or blogs like mine help you in your process then I will be so very happy.. but please do not let anyone tell you HOW TO GRIEVE and know that there is nothing wrong with you!

Grief-healing-support my big ol’ behind!

enjoying a moment part I

2010-08-11T12:08:00.000-07:00

i am home from Ariz. now... trying to transition all over again...so far so good... mostly because i have so much to catch up on...including my poor neglected blog...

the trip was full of moments that i struggled to be in... to enjoy... to allow myself to feel whatever i was feeling...

as a family we "attempted" to go camping.. if you know my dad then you have probably been introduced to camping and fishing through him...i have heard over and over "if it wasn't for your dad i wouldn't have known how to appreciate the outdoors" and other things like that... our trip started (as normal family affairs begin) with drama (that is not to speak lightly of other people's feelings, it's just a word)... but we moved through it.. mostly because those of us that intended on completing the trip felt like it needed to be done.. for us... i know personally i needed to prove that i could do it.. could enjoy it...without his physical being.. but make no mistake.. my dad was all over the place during the trip... seeing familiar tree lined paths while being in his truck brought lump after lump to my throat... fishing on the lake he most frequented was even tougher...

at one point i inexplicably felt sorry for him... sorry that he would never see this beauty again.. well that was stupid... i forget that he is seeing so much beauty that i can't see, that there are no words to describe... i was really feeling sorry for me.. that i would not be able to share it with him again...

our trip was also missing another important person who at the last moment decided it was not something he was ready to do... understandable... while i questioned whether or not i could do it myself.. i am so glad that i did... because when i was able to fix broken and tangled fishing line.. and make a fire.. i knew.. without a doubt..that i am truly my father's daughter... and that was very healing..

my papa was very missed on this trip... when we got lost, still within city limits... it was said that it would never have happened if my dad were there.. as i watched my mom's haphazard grocery bag packed food fly all around the bed of the truck i thought... my dad would have packed, organized and tied down everything... my cousin's son and daughter fondly remembered their tio robert when they saw or thought of familiar things... i giggle now thinking of the hotel/cabin we stayed in... my dad would have bucked the system and slept on the porch.. i could hear him saying "this isn't camping!"

later in the week my brother and i discussed heaven... you know the bible mentions mansions made of gold... but i guarantee you that my papa opted for a four room tent and hammock instead!

comming home...

2010-07-26T00:47:00.000-07:00

i have been home in Ariz. for a few days now...i will be the first to admit i was quite nervous... this is the first time i have been home since my papa passed... i worried about how i would feel being in the house... seeing the sink we spent hours at... seeing his recliner... seeing all of the empty space he left.... while it has been hard it has also been healing.. we have been able to talk about him.. not always accompanied by tears.. we have laughed.. cried.. and shared...
being in his truck was hardest.. it smells like him... like work.. like desert dust...
it doesn't help that my brother in his masochistic style.. insists on listening to dad's music at most times...
i have yet to visit the grave site... more apprehension... not knowing how i will react is the hardest part... odd that reacting is the easiest, most natural thing to do...
i have done very well, considering... and i was thinking about it.. more than likely while i was supposed to be listening to someone...i apologize in advance for being a bit spacey, as i have a lot to contemplate... but i digress... i think i have been able to simply feel because he is very much a part of us.. and the house... i know my dad is in paradise.. more than likely cooking fish over a camp fire... but he is here as well.. in the form of memories... my papa wore hats (ball caps) all the time.. and there is at least one hat in every room.. as if he left them there...
i also believe... as many people remark on how well we are doing as a family.. that it is a testament to my papa.. we were not left with hurt feelings, regrets.. ugly memories... he truly left us in tact with beautiful memories and knowing with all our souls that he loved us...
here is hoping i can remember this when i visit his headstone....

music to our ears...

2010-07-13T11:48:00.000-07:00

after the last post i felt i needed to write something less sad.. gotta have balance right?

we did a lot of bed hopping in my family... before my brother was born my mom and i would switch because she couldn't sleep with my dad's snoring.. sometimes it was so loud it vibrated against the walls... i got so used to my dad's snoring that i slept with him for mannnnyyy years.. until my brother took over... poor dad... because my brother has always been a wiggly sleeper....

so last night it was raining on and off... more like pouring and pounding my rooftop on and off... and it made my husband's snoring erratic... i just could not get to sleep.... so as always i go to thinking about my papa...

my brother and i have agreed... it is easier to fall asleep with steady snoring.. he once said my dad's snoring was music to his ears! music.. i don't know about that... but it certainly held its own lullaby... maybe of security... and hilarity

a few years ago my dad and brother came to visit my husband and i.. we rented a cabin up north and spend the weekend there... the cabin had these weird short walls that created an open gap between our rooms... my brother and dad were in one room.. my husband and i were in the other... my dad was the first to fall asleep and started snoring.. my husband.. unaccustomed as my brother i and i were... could not sleep through the snoring.. especially once my brother joined in... i told him to close his eyes and eventually he would fall asleep... moments later i found out neither of us would be sleeping... my dad started laughing... like actually laughing.. there would be a snore with his inhale.. but the exhale was laughter.. and not quiet giggles... real laughter... it was infectious laughter.. because my husband and i could not stop laughing... we came up with dream scenarios that my dad could have been laughing at.. in the morning we told my dad about it.. he didn't believe us... while my brother slept through that night he was familiar with this laughter.. he walked in and said he'd heard it before.... no big deal.. which sent my husband and i into more fits of giggles

years later as my dad became more and more sick we, as a family, started to miss his snoring... one afternoon nap my mom caught him snoring... she told him when he woke up and he was excited... he said "yes, that means i got some goooooood sleep!"

on God.. and faith part II

2010-07-07T11:50:00.000-07:00

i am not sure where it comes from... the day will have gone well... i will have gotten through it unscathed... then.. i lay down to fall asleep.... i am sure to tire myself out completely.. so i know i am tired.. i know i should be able to sleep... a little tossing...a little turning.. then a flash.. the memory that sends pain to my core.. the memory of my dad in his last hours... unresponsive but his mouth searching for water... i used the stupid ice chip sponge to put water on his lips and gums but he moved his head... grunting.. he was so thirsty... and i was helpless... i don't know who noticed.. who knew... and i don't share this at all... because even now.. typing it.. so much is going on inside... a whole storm of emotions...... this is the only moment...after all he had already gone through.. when i questioned God.... when i was angry with God for reducing my dad to this... to allow suffering... needlessly..i had done really well until that point in understanding that cancer was not something God gave people.. was not a lesson to be learned.. was just a monster in and of itself... but i asked.. why not just take him now.. why allow him to lay there.. helpless. thirsty... why put us through this?

so my night was spent thinking... and reliving these questions...and sorting out some other stuff...my relationship with God is personal.. and new... i am finding my way through this in the best way i know how... i don't know if i will ever be open to religion.. i see what it does to individuals.. i see people using religion to judge, condemn and justify horrible things... i understand that individuals never represent the whole... but it causes me to be wary of it all the same... but my dad, being new to Christianity... was obviously not new to virtue.. and i think if i can try to emulate his virtues i will find my way....

fellowship without judgement- when my dad had to stop working he would spend much of his time on the front porch reading and watching the neighborhood.. he befriended some Jehovah witness women... even after he began to have fellowship with his church they did not forget about him... one day he was in the shower and i answered the door.. they asked about his well being and left a scripture for him to ponder... when he got out of the shower another person made a snide remark about him talking with them...later he told me that he just wanted to talk about the bible, he didn't care with who...it wasn't a matter of being swayed toward any kind of religion.. it was about gaining understanding in any way....and that i should not judge wrongly like that other person had

honesty- my cousin was reading the bible to him one afternoon.. i suggested they read the story about the 4th man in the fire (my favorite.. plus it's a good johnny cash song).. dad had never heard it... in the story three men are brought to the king for refusing to worship a Babylonian god...they told the king that they did not fear the firey furnace they were to be thrown into because they had faith that God would protect them.. the furnace was so hot that it burned the soldiers who took the three men to the fire... and killed them.. the men came out of the furnace unburned and not even smelling like fire...while the men were in the fire a fourth man was seen (usually inferred to be God)... anyway after the story had been read my cousin asked my papa if he would have that much bravery to stand up to the king and be thrown in the fire... my dad thought a bit.. and said.. no... he would bow to the Babylon god.... he somewhat shocked my cousin, who was also his preacher and pillar of faith.... we laughed... he was honest in his answer... it was not in question of his faith... my dad had a very strong faith in God... it was a question of bravery and fear...

i think my dad's virtues are better followed than any religion.. and while someday maybe i will find my way toward a church and religion.. i will in the mean time work on my personal relationship and understanding of God.. maybe until i have faith enough not to lay awake questioning and reliving an all too painful moment...

6 months

2010-07-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

another month has passed.... and nothing has changed.... my world is standing still... i am in a bubble slowly working my way out... i have begun to forgive which i think will help.. and which i think you would like... i wish i had more of your non-judgmental heart in me... it is something i will continue to work on....

we had a bit of a dramatic... albeit hilarious event... in the house... your super smart son-in-law dropped a huge knife on his foot, butt first, and broke his last two toes... he writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i threw him a bag of frozen peas and walked out... i couldn't stop giggling... and i was thinking of you and your foot/heel problems... i don't think you ever writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i know you went on a two hour hike with us... through the pain... even with chemo and the horrible pains of surgery and ever growing tumors... i don't you ever writhed around on the ground yelling and cussing... i will admit i lost my patience with him... but i can hear you saying "pobrecito".... so i am STILL trying not to compare him to you.. or anyone else to you... cause in that battle.. they will always lose....

speaking of feet... mom and emilio went to California this week.. they are still there... and the other night.. for a fleeting moment.. i did it again.. i forgot you weren't there... i thought.. for just one second... about calling to see how you were getting along with all that walking they did in San Fransisco... again my heart sank... when i remembered yet again... you weren't there...and i wondered when that would stop... but i still do it with Nana and Tata.. so i suppose it won't.. ever stop happening

i think back to last year... at this time.. this day.. i was home with you... we, no doubt, had breakfast together... i can't pinpoint the day.. the actual day.. and i hate that.. i want to remember every moment with you.. but my memory fails in that respect... my brain is too caught up in missing you...

i love you papa,

ana marie

healing in forgiveness

2010-06-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

i read The Shack... which i didn't like at all... it was an attempt to take philosophical questions that do have necessarily have to have answers, and simplify it all.. it was trite in its attempt at a conversation with God... i will never understand why people flock to "answers"... when the questions are far more important...

anyway.. what i did take away from it was a personal need to forgive...i will be the first to admit that i hold a lot of anger... it fuels me... it allows me to work full speed.... but unless i get rid of it (even a little of it) i can not heal....truth be told healing is scary in that i am afraid to forget him... and to forget this feeling... but... he would want me to move forward (never move on.. move forward)... so i have to forgive....

today i wrote a letter to his oncologist... in it i forgive him.. for his tunnel vision in treating him...for his lack of understanding kidney cancer in it's specificness.... in it.. i ask that he look into reforming IL-2 eligibility criteria... i ask that he review the use of Sutent... neither of which were used on my papa... i informed him that my dad would have had hot lava pushed into his veins if it meant he would have a few more years, months.. even days... i also tell him that i do not not blame him for my dad's cancer.. nor his demise.. i have to believe that my dad would have taken from us even if he would have qualified for IL-2 or had tried Sutent.. but he should have been given the opportunity to try them as treatment options... it breaks my heart that when he was told there was nothing else they could try.. it was a lie... there were options... i also reminded him the power he holds over oncology patients who put their faith in him to fully inform them...it was a letter a long time coming...

i also am going to take this opportunity to formally forgive people in my life that, at the time, i felt did not give us the support we needed.. it was selfish and close minded for me to believe that you could make it better simply by "being there"... blame had to go somewhere and it went to some of you.. i understand now that sometimes people don't know what to do or say... truth be told some of that anger came from jealousy that this did not affect your life as it so twisted mine... what kind of friend am i to only love those that are there for me... friendship is not based on reliance... neither is love.. i forgive and love you!

i will have a harder time forgiving those that i feel did my dad wrong by not being there for HIM as they could have.. i will have a harder time forgiving those who disguised their need to be the center of attention as "caring"... i will have a harder time forgiving those who have abandoned what is left of my family.... but.. the forgiveness will come.. because i believe that those that i will have a harder time forgiving do not know what hurt they've caused... so what is the point in hanging onto that anger? it will come.. i'm sure it will... and today i feel lighter... i feel a pebble sized void has been filled in the giant whole my papa left me with....

like watching Nature

2010-06-25T12:09:00.000-07:00

this picture always makes me laugh.. YEARS ago..we were in old town Tucson... he snuck away from the group and had this picture taken... i remember wondering.. what was he going to do with it? well he framed it of course.. and hung it on the wall... on that wall was also a blown up picture of his Jeep... who in the world takes a novelty photo alone? my papa that's who! many years after that he had one taken with my brother.. but that is his story to tell

it is always funny to me when people say "i didn't know that about him" or "he was so quiet"... i just chuckle to myself... and it makes me sad for people who didn't really know him.. or understand him....

sure.. he was quiet and reserved... until he stood up for the sole purpose of doing a funny little dance... (ok side note.. sometimes i think these entries are going to light hearted and i will giggle throughout them... but here i sit crying.. and glad i can type without looking at my fingers or the screen) i digress.. sometimes being with my dad was like watching Nature (as my brother once said)... you had to be still.. you had to watch wait and listen.. and he could burst out of the quiet reserved shell....

something simple like putting chlorine in the pool could cause of sting of snarky sarcastic comments (are you planning on getting any of that chlorine in the pool?).... as can driving directly over potholes (is it your goal to hit every pothole?)... not wearing socks could get you a lecture fit for a 3 year old.... not many people saw this... they usually saw a very patient father.. almost absentee in his lack of discipline.... HA... HA....

when my papa was taking care of his parents before they passed.. people saw a strong man.. stoic in his role as caretaker... they assumed he was quiet and non reflective... what they did not have were my lunch time conversations with him.. in which he expressed that he was sad but happy that my nana cuca was in control of her life in choosing not to undergo dialysis... that she was making her choices known... sure they saw the strong man... i held this strong man as he sobbed as her casket was being lowered....when his father passed..i asked him if it was easier to loose him because he had lived such a very long long life... my brother and i were told it was not easy to loose him because he regretted not knowing him beyond a father role... he didn't teach him how to drive or do things father's did.. he worked hard for his family...and while my dad was appreciative he also wanted a "dad"....

you wouldn't know how important you were to him unless you wanted to.... his family was so important to him.. and more than anything he wanted a relationship.. a closeness... he reveled in saying "my sisters are with me," he was proud of the love he had for his family...and while it was so visible to me.. i wonder how visible it was to others... not everyone knows now to watch, wait and listen.... he proudly displayed blankets, meals and hats made for him... like saying "look how much i am loved, and look how much i love them"... did they know what that this is what he meant to say? do they know how hurt he would be to loose them in his passing.... my brother and i are a part of him.. and right now.. we are our only connection to him... that hurts

my cousin said it drove her crazy to watch him and i sit next to each other, both reading separate books.... "you guys are too quiet".... but we were watching and waiting... once.. we saw a humming bird stop flying.. it perched and sat still for a full minute.. it was amazing... and we would never have shared that moment if we weren't watching and waiting...

my point is... if you ever wondered about him.. if you ever wanted to know him better... know this... he probably wasn't who he seemed to you... he was so much more

father's day

2010-06-21T13:17:00.000-07:00

it is the day after father's day... i avoided it yesterday... i think that the build up to it was worse than the actual day.... i was dreading father's day for weeks.. after every commercial that said "don't forget father's day" i would ask "how could i forget?"... i kept busy yesterday and i did pretty well... i had cousins, friends and my brother check up on me... i wasn't lying you guys... when i said i was okay :0)

i think what helped me was the memory of last year... living so far from home, i have missed many (too many) father's days... i sent cards and called...but last year i flew home to surprise him... he was beginning to have flank pain (although we didn't know it at the time, the tumor was growing back, into his flank muscle)... he was already down the rabbit hole of harder pain medication...he missed church that morning... my cousin picked me up at the airport...he was just waking up from a nap and we met in the hallway... he gasped and i hugged him too hard... he let a few tears out.. and in our fashion we both looked away.. leave it to us to suppress the moment.. yes.. i am my father's daughter... he told everyone who came over what a surprise it was to him.. and admitted he cried... i came and went a ton over the summer so i had just seen him a month before... he was truly surprised.... and there is nothing like the smile my dad smiles when he is surprised.. it is a huge grin and he kind of bites the tip of his tongue... the corners of his eyes crinkle...it's real... funny that i remember details of his face and expressions like that...

and i think that is why i was/am able to get through this... my dad was so present... so....there... that i have details to hang on to....

so you want to know why....

2010-06-15T11:55:00.000-07:00

people like to ask why... and i can't completely answer why i tattoo my body... it's maybe something that i don't fully understand myself... but i can answer why i got this one... i can at least explain that...

It took some convincing to get my dad to sign on with hospice. We called it everything but “hospice.” Palliative care, home care nursing and the one that finally worked, our best option. I will never say that he was in denial, instead he was very hopeful and continued to have the will of a barracuda to live. The day that the hospice doctor, nurse and social worker came to meet with us, they talked soothingly and asked their questions tentatively. The social worker asked my dad if he had made plans or expressed his wishes. My mom and I both understood the question to be in reference to funeral plans and life insurances. My dad took it to mean something else completely. He answered, “my wife and I are going to renew our vows in February and we are thinking about buying an RV.” Needless to say the team caught on and avoided that subject from then on.

Then the doctor asked him if he was nervous or scared of what was happening. My dad gave the most telling of answers, one that continues to give us comfort in our loss of him. He asked, “Scared of what?" Long before I was a gleam in his eye my dad rode broncos and bulls in the rodeo circuit. My aunt told the doctor that he rode bulls to explain my dad's answer. The doctor understood that the man he was looking at had stared a two ton bull in the eyes and showed no fear... what was cancer after that?

In my dad’s last hours he stopped responding to us. He fought to breathe so hard and for so long his neck veins turned angry and purple. On January 1, 2010 at 3:30 am my dad cried two tears and went home to heaven. He fought cancer for less than a year and in his last breaths continued to fight. It was as if he were holding on for his eight seconds. Like he was up on the biggest, meanest bull and refused to let go until that buzzer went off. He got the highest score that early morning.

And while tattoos are not understood by everyone, this is why I got this particular one on the day after what would have been my dad's birthday. You can see that the bull has a RCC ribbon on his hind quarter, it represents cancer. And there is my dad riding the beast into the sunset. His story and his words give me strength to get past my fear of living without him. The sheer thought of it can get me through my day. This pain is still very fresh and I can’t see an end in sight. Someone told me that this is a pain that doesn’t ever go away, you simply have to learn to live with it. However, if I am truly my father’s daughter I can do anything. I can look that two ton, angry bull in the face and be his legacy

my new La Bamba

2010-06-12T17:20:00.000-07:00

from since i can remember watching movies... maybe from the first time i ever saw La Bamba, i have had this sickness.. this need.. to cry.... once in a while.. i will take out all of my sad movies... put one in and cry.. my go-to... has mostly been La Bamba....i was minute away from putting it in today... because i knew i needed a release... all week, every night, every morning.. i have been fighting the urge to cry... when i close my eyes at night i see my dad sitting in his wheelchair with his head hung down.. asleep.. i will think about how hard he fought sleep and feel guilty that i didn't fight it with him... that i didn't make more of that time... every morning, this week, i have opened my eyes and felt this sinking sensation.. this emptiness.. all of this is normal.. something i should expect to feel from time to time... but for whatever nonsensical reason i have suppressed every feeling inside of me to let it out... i physically shake my head and say "no, not doing it" and i try to busy my mind.... but today i was prepared to watch La Bamba and cry it out...

something different happened though... something unexpected and strange... i went to the library to pick up a book on CD they were holding for me (i like to listed to books while i crochet)... i left the library without looking at it... when i got home and started loading it onto my mp3 player i realized they had given me the wrong cd set...this was not the mystery i expected.. what i got was a memoir about a girl about my age... who lost her mom to breast cancer.. it was written during her mom's last few weeks on hospice.... it took me about an hour to decide to plunge in....

i have spent the entire day listening to this book.. i've crocheted during the funny chapters... i got down on my bed in the fetal position during the heart wrenchingly sad parts... i have relived my dad's last 3 months on earth through this book... and i have come out clean..

in "The Mercy Papers" by Robin Romm.. i found solace.. i found a kindred spirit.. from the moment she wanted everyone out of the house... to the trip to walmart to buy a rubber bed sheet...

through her writing i relived the lunacy and importance of finding the remote control... buying the right flavor of ensure... and the panic induced guilty feeling of being at the grocery store and not with him... she put into perspective the anger i felt toward people when they would tell me i needed to get out of the house... i think.. i finally felt.. understood....

in a weird change of events i had my release today... but i didn't need La Bamba... i don't fully buy into the universe sending me things... i think it is what it is.. but it just happened to be what i needed today

agape love

2010-06-05T16:17:00.000-07:00

can you spot my dad? he is in the front row.. he is the boy with the biggest smile on his face

someone really upset me last night.... i will admit.. i was seething... angry..

and then i remembered "agape love".... my dad gave me this lecture about having "agape love" for family... there was one person in particular who we struggled to like, let alone love.. but he wouldn't let us talk ugly about this person.. instead he reminded us... that this person was family... and we should have "agape love" for them... this is a love that is unconditional... we shouldn't expect anything of anyone.. just love them.. it was and is really doing us no good to be ugly to some one when they have no idea what they are doing wrong... after some time and in remembering this lesson.. i was no longer angry... anger is not productive in anyway...

so i was thinking about this.. and of course about my papa...people used to always say "your dad is so patient"...i suppose you'd have to be, with a daughter who doesn't think about consequences and a son who has never known consequences...

that is not to say he was a walking buddah... of course he got mad..in fact.. seeing dad upset was an event.. and usually brought more laughter than tears....after all we are the "stupid family"... but he had nothing but agape love for his stupid family!

so, my dad continues to teach me, mold me, remind me... and i understood that last night... i can not call him, i can not talk to him.. but somehow he can still get to me.. and help me become the person i want to be... a person with purpose... a person who is happy.. a person who can give agape love...

5 months

2010-06-01T16:18:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

today marks 5 months...and i wonder.. will i wake up every month on the first and be forced to feel farther away from you? i feel myself healing, filling that space that you occupied so heavily... but every month brings a new fear.. because time is moving on without you... i still don't understand how time goes on... my world exploded when you left... i wonder how everyone else was able to wake up today and not think of you... how has everyone else been able to move forward?

not everyone has dad, and i worry about them more than i do myself... i have you in me.. i am a piece of you.. i have within me your strength and the rest of your fight.. but what about those who don't dad? how do i help them?

for some reason this month has been a difficult one.. maybe it was your birthday and mom's birthday.. then memorial .. but this month more than any other.. i picked up the phone countless times to call you... i had the worst day last week... i taught this kindergarten class that walked all over me.. at the end of the day i walked out of the school laughing.. because i was going to call you and tell you about the little boy who peed in the corner.. when i asked him why.. he said.. "because".. i knew you would laugh... i ended up crying in my car...this huge weight on my shoulders.. realizing yet again.. i couldn't call you... you aren't there..

i am planning a trip home this summer dad. i'm scared.... terrified.. of what i am going to feel walking into the house knowing you aren't there... i am safe in my Michigan cocoon in a way... i have pictures of you everywhere.. you are all over the house when i talk about you or play your music... but i do not see your room, your chair, your clothes, your truck, your life... everywhere.. your headstone was put up too... a finality if you will.. that terrifies me too... unfinished business kept it a little unreal... but thats it.. that was the final thing to do.. it's done... now what?

i love you papa,

ana marie

alright.. it was bound to come up

2010-05-29T15:46:00.000-07:00

i have a hard time looking at December pictures of my dad, let alone post them... but this is the only one i have of this memory... and it... like him.. is precious....

i was bound to write about it eventually... there have been tons of fun and memorable moments in my papa's long life in being my papa... but.. sometimes i have a hard time going back that far.. sometimes the pain of loosing him feels too fresh and it makes it difficult to reach back that far... so this is a more recent memory that was bound to be written about...

yes.. this is the story of the infamous singing contests!

no one knows how they started.. no one knows whose idea it was... or why we went along with it to begin with.. or how it became such a serious and competitive weekly event...

anyone who was there can, however, tell you how my dad's face lit up at the prospect of being able to judge all of us...

this is how the contests were structured... my dad would have a pad of paper and a pen (he insisted on being the only judge).. and we would take turns singing to him... so if you happened to be at our house on a random week night... you got pulled in.. you had to sing (or cry your way out of it KATY!).... we started with hymns... i did my best Patsy Cline with Just a Closer Walk With Thee, and on another night did a very girly Bill Monroe with Angel Band....a couple nights we were given a choice of songs... i of course did my best Janis Joplin with Bobby McGee... then there was the last contest.. it was a Christmas special and i did I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas...i am proud to say that i stayed steadily in second place except for the last one... but that one was fixed (my mom had never even placed in a contest and for the Christmas special she was told she would win, unbeknown to us, and she did. Call it a Christmas gift from him...either was it was fixed and i was robbed!)... but we had so much fun and he took his duties seriously... he wrote notes about us as we sang and we were critiqued at the end and given our place (1st 2nd or 3rd)...toward the end of my papa's life he struggled to talk... at the last contest, knowing there was no way in the world he would get Eric (the hubby) to sing, he recruited him as announcer and prize giver...

in having these contests he gave us the most fun memories of him, of being with each other... sometimes i wonder if he knew what he was doing...

i was thinking about this a lot today.. i tend to sing in my car (quite loudly, complete with upper body choreography)... and.. as it happens sometimes when people pass... i forgot he was gone.. i was singing a song and thinking.. hey.. i did really good with that song.. i should sing that at the next contest... when this happens you are immediately hit with a load of bricks... with the realization that this is not going to happen.. he is gone...

i miss my dad so much.. there is a pain at the back of my heart when i think of him... i hurt for me.. not for him.. i know he is a place where he is whole an d happy... but i will always selfishly miss him... but i continue to be so thankful with the legacy that he left us with... and memories to remember and laugh.. instead of cry... but what i wouldn't give to sing one more time for him...

mine, his, ours

2010-05-25T03:24:00.000-07:00

one thing my parents did perfectly (albeit by mistake)... was to have my brother and i 12 years apart...

i have 12 years of memories.. 12 years of being their only focus... i wasn't bitter or jealous when he was born... not when it came to my parent's attention (i was too busy trying to keep him out of my room and from killing my gold fish)... i was old enough to enjoy watching them enjoy him... i was old enough to be doing my "own thing"...and i moved out fairly early.. so, he got lots of years of having them all to himself... because of this we have personal memories to cherish, hold close or share....our memories fall into three categories... mine, his and ours

he doesn't have the memory of my dad's jeep backfiring on my leg... and my dad putting a cold beer can on it... he told me i was okay... i still have bits of whatever builds up in a tail pipe in my leg...but...hey... i'm okay... he doesn't have the memory of puking half way up Squaw Peak only to be rewarded with a solo hike with dad around the mountain while everyone else kept going up..he doesn't know how to play chess or what it feels like to watch him squirm as i explained the workings of a Wonder Bra and why i needed one ASAP

i will never have the memory of driving route 66 on a whim with dad... i will never have the memory of sleeping under the stars with him... i will never know what it feel like to be his "buddy," to talk about girls, to be the twinkle in his eye

sometimes we got a peek at each other's dad... like when we drove to Payson to camp, just the three of us... and we sang the same three Metalica songs over and over...

together we can remember fishing at the trout farm, camping in a hotel room, friday night dinners at pizza hut... together we have one memory that will be the same for both of us... something that will never change.... we had one heck of a dad who blessed us with so many memories...

why i walk....

2010-05-22T15:45:00.000-07:00

i even have a storm trooper on my side!

i know that some people may read my blog and feel sorry for me... they might worry that i wallow in my sadness...in the same vein i know that there are people who look at my involvement with cancer (communities, walks etc) and worry that i am not "moving past it"....

please know.. my blog.. writing this blog... has helped me in ways no one else could... i am free here... i say what i want and what i feel here... i remember him here... i think about my dad every day.. most every hour... and it is not always followed my sadness... lately i have been able to think of him and smile or laugh even... i am able to talk about him more freely... when i say something like "my dad would have loved this" or "my dad used to say....." it brings me closer to him... and i feel like with time and the help of writing... i can do this.. and feel this more often...

i'm fighting cancer in the ways that i am able (walking, supporting, keeping up to date on research)... i feel as if i am continuing to honor his fight... just because he is gone doesn't mean the battle is over... there are other people out there fighting this monster... and i want to be a part (even a tiny part) of some of them winning that fight!

when i walk or when i am a part of events i see so much hope.. not only in the survivors.. but also in the surviving family members (they are survivors too because the monster may take only the body of the loved one.. but what is left behind are shrapnel wounds to the heart that take longer to heal)... i see so many people that have been affected by cancer and i don't feel so alone in the battle....

so please don't worry about me.. i am coping.. i am doing.. i am LIVING! and that is all i can do....

5 more things you should know about my dad

2010-05-19T01:06:00.000-07:00

4:15 am.... i did everything right.... i worked out till i was fully exhausted... i went to bed at a reasonable time.. took a hot shower.. turned off the tv.. took my melatonin.... and bang.. i'm awake.. fully awake...

since i am up... since the computer is on... since for once i did the dishes before going to bed... and since my dad is on my mind... i think it's time for another list....

5 more things you should know about my dad:

never ask him for help with homework: my dad was probably too smart for his own good... he watched too much PBS... my brother and i asked him as a last resort....you know.. when you are just trying to get done... you just want to go to bed... but you have one last thing to do and it is stumping you...so you get desperate.. and ask him... well settle in.. it's going to be a while... my favorite example is when i was working on dividing fractions... and he proceded to tell me the history of fractions!!!! the history!!!!!
sometimes he really DIDN'T know: you could have asked my dad anything... ANYTHING... and he would know the answer.. as a little girl.. i thought he really did know everything... as an adult... i saw just how much he made up... yup.. made up... my brother didn't believe me... we were trying to remember who sings the theme song for Toy Story (randy newman, the laziest song writer alive).... but dad said john sebastian... he answered with so much conviction..we laughed and said he'd made it up... he never admitted to making up that name... he said Google was wrong....
he watched ANYONE who performed on Austin City Limits: on the last list i wrote about how much he loved music.. well this included horrible bands like Cold Play.. simply because they played Austin City Limits... i had a bit of a crush on Paolo Nutini... before i knew his name i called him the hot Scottish guy... from the other side of the house i heard "the hot Scottish guy is on!!!!"... when i got there he was laughing... "just kidding, it's willie nelson again"
he hated The Simpsons: few things really got his goat... i will never know if he actually ever watched an episode...i think he would have thought it was funny.. but his heels were dug in and he stuck to it....i was grown.. an adult... visiting from Michigan... i was up late watching the simpsons... he walked in and started yelling at me (me....an adult.. married.. living a half a country away)..... i giggled it off.. until he woke up my mom to tell on me.....
he personified IRON WILL: he woke up at 4am to go to work... some mornings i would be awake to and watched him drive away from my bedroom window.. i felt so sorry for him... to have to go to work in the dark....some days he came home with burned holes in his shirt or skin! (welding).... he worked really hard for us for so many years.... i think it had to be the will to work... when he was in his wheelchair... he did everything he could to still walk to the bathroom.. he would lock his legs... even if was just a few steps... when he pulled himself on and off the wheel chair.... it was will.. sheer will...

some of these things we can lightly joke about... but it made him endearing... even the trivial things.. like not liking the Simpsons made him who he was.... even these small things i hope i take from.. learn from....oh and i am sorry dad... i watch Family Guy... if only you knew how much worse it was.... you might have actually liked the Simpsons

the moment...

2010-05-16T16:55:00.000-07:00

before my dad was diagnosed.. i never once considered loosing him... after he was diagnosed... there was still very little consideration... there was always hope.. if not for a cure.. then at least for more time....

in the midst of his treatments and my countless visits home during the summer.. he took eric and i to wickenburg to take the quads out for a ride... we rode for hours.. stopping to look at rattle snakes.. gorgeous vistas... old abandoned mines...

we stopped to refuel... at this point.. eric and i marveled at his energy.. we were tired... sore from riding... hungry.. but he was trying to squeeze as much out of this trip as he could... when i think back on it..when i think back on many moments.. i can see more clearly how much he wanted to live as much as he could... this was one of those moments... he was getting the most out of teaching us about reading winds... following tracks... basic desert survival....

we went off for another ride.. we ended up at this huge red rock... it looked like a sunset etched into the side of a boulder... eric and i stopped to take a picture of it and dad pushed on... we saw he had gotten stuck in some sand up ahead... he jumped off his quad (at this time my dad was in a leg brace for some painful fluid buildup in his heel, he was walking with crutches)... he was trying to pull his quad loose when suddenly it slipped and started to roll toward a cliff.. my dad put all his weight into steading the quad and then.. fell and started to be dragged by the quad...

i don't remember what i screamed.. only that i screamed... i jumped off the back of mine and eric's quad so that eric could get to him.... he got down to him... and by the time i got there we were able to pull the quad free of the sand trap and safe from the cliff... my dad hobbled to a safe area and i walked the quad to him...

he assured me he was ok.. in no time we were back on the quads heading back to the truck and trailer...the tears falling down my cheeks where hotter than the desert... i was sobbing.. i told eric to slow down.. i didn't want my dad to see me panic like that...

this was the moment... the moment i considered loosing my dad... his near fall from that cliff made me realize just how scared i was of not having him in my life... i was terrified... still am.. every day...

99.9%

2010-05-14T08:42:00.000-07:00

i was chatting with a fantastic woman last night... we were discussing how when someone you rely upon, you love, you need...passes...it is like a part of you is missing... like you are half a person... because they take that part of you with them... you are lost... without purpose... not sure what your next move is.... second guessing yourself... afraid to rely upon yourself... there really is a part of you missing...

i suddenly decided.. that i do not want to be half a person... my dad took a huge part of me with him.. he in fact did leave me feeling lost... but i have decided that i have the ability to fill up that missing part of me... i can not effectively celebrate him while i mourn him... i can not be me.. all of me... if i don't allow myself to find purpose...

i am resolved to the fact that i will never "get over" loosing my dad... i will always miss him.. will always need him.. will always love him...

however... as i heal... i have decided that i can be perfectly content being 99.9% me.... i'm no where near there yet.... but i know.. with time.. i will be

Happy Birthday Papa...

2010-05-10T13:09:00.000-07:00

today.. i will NOT be sad... i will always miss my papa.. but i have to allow myself to celebrate him as well... i tend to focus on his cancer.. and the loss of him.. but then there is my papa before the cancer... and sometimes my memories can't go back that far because the pain of loosing him is too raw....but today... on his birthday i want to focus on his life... in doing that... i thought.. how would my dad have liked to spend his birthday? if he were here and healthy.. he would surely be outdoors... maybe camping... he would invite whomever.. we would be at Woods Canyon Lake... right about now we would be fishing... we would come back to camp... tired... with or without fish... but later there would surely be a fire... and scary stories....

my dad was known for his campfire stories... and for trying to scare us kids (many nieces and nephews too) by making animal noises and shaking the tent while we slept.. or tried to...

one of my favorite stories was about a mystery creature in the woods.. it went like this:

"while on a hunting trip i was off scouting... i got separated from my hunting buddies... it got dark but i was on the trail of some moving game..at some point i lost the trail and figured it was time to head back to camp...only.. i had gotten turned around and i wasn't sure where i was....i started walking in the direction i thought camp might be... i was looking for anything familiar that would lead me there... i was hungry and tired.. and it was dark... the trees hid most of the starlight and i hadn't thought to bring my flashlight... suddenly i heard this whooping noise.. it sounded like a bird flapping it's wings... but this... had to have been a big bird... bigger than any bird i knew existed.... i shook it off and kept on walking... then i heard it again.. except this time the whooping was followed by a low growl... now.. i don't know any birds that growl neither... maybe they screech or squawk.. but never growl.. the next time i heard it.. it seemed closer.. much closer.. too close... so i squatted at he base of a tree and loaded my gun... i sat... and i listened.... i must have sat for ten minutes or so when i heard it... coming right for me... i took aim and the noise and shot off two rounds... i didn't hit it.. because i still heard it flying.. only... away from me... i hadn't been able to see it clearly when i aimed.. i only made out the silhouette of it's wings... they didn't look like bird's wings.. they looked more like bat wings... only very big... i wasn't able to see it's face but i saw it's eyes... looking right at me... they were red and glowing... i sat still.. listening... trying to to breathe.... i heard it circle...then come toward me again... the sound was right in line with me.. it wasn't just coming toward me.. it was coming at me... i took aim again... but waited.... waited till i couldn't stand it anymore.. and i shot... one round... in the echo of the bang i heard a thumb and the ground shook.... i had hit it.. it was down... it was close... at this point i was safe enough to try to head back to camp but i wanted to see this thing....i decided to stay right where i was until morning... i hunkered down and tried to sleep...finally the sun started to come up and i looked around me.. it was quiet and still... i walked a few yards ahead of me expecting to see the creature.. but i saw nothing... i thought maybe it was farther than i thought so i walked on... and still.. no creature... then.. in a pile of leaves and pine needles i saw blood.... no feathers.. and it looked as if something big had been laying there... i looked around.. for a blood trail.. maybe it had crawled off to die under a bush... but there was no trail... when i made it back to camp i told everyone about it and they came with me to look for it.. surely.. with all that blood i must have killed it.. but we never found it.. and we never knew what it was"

now.. many people have heard this story.. but it changes every time he tells it...one time he said he saw it and it looked like a naked very old man with wings.. another time it had teeth like razor blades... but one thing stayed the same.. everyone.. believed it... it was suspect in the way it always changed... in the way all of his stories changed.. the one about the ghost he drove home, the Indian statue that came to life and stalked campers, the flying Dutchman... so i asked him last year.. if ANY of his stories were true...now it's my secret to keep.. happy birthday papa!

today is my momma's birthday...

2010-05-06T04:13:00.000-07:00

ahh birthdays...they started off with a bang this year... my papa's wake was held on my birthday...it was either that or we would have had to wait till after the weekend... it was a non issue.. seeing as how there was going to be little happiness on that day weather we had the viewing on that day or another... it was still going to be a tough birthday...

so today's my mom's first birthday without him... last year my dad and i took balloons to her job.. and we went for lunch... my dad had never really done anything like that for her... she kept thinking it was all my idea... but it went unsaid... that it could possibly be the last he would have with her... i think we thought that of all events last year...

my mom and dad struggled with their marriage.. as most marriages do have struggles... i think there was always love there... but little affection... when i was little my dad would chase my mom into the bedroom and tickle her... she would scream for me to help her.. i would yell at him until he let her up... those are some of my most precious memories of my parents....

if there was any blessing to be found in the monster that took him.. it is that my parents fell in love again... it was amazing to witness... to have been married for so long.. there had to be love there.. but this was the kind of love books are written about.. devotion... caring... gratitude... they were allies in this fight.. and they found each other through it...

there came a time when my dad needed a wheelchair... he continued to be independent in self care but sometimes needed help stabilizing when he stood... my mom never said.. "let me help you up" instead she said "give me a hug" and as she held him up there were sweet little kisses... i don't think she ever saw the tears streaming down my face.... it was cruel to consider that this would be taken from her soon...

on my dad's last day my mom brought him coffee... as she did every morning... he wasn't going to get out of bed... it was the first time i watched them break down together.. she begged him to get up... he just said.. i'm sorry... i'm sorry.. i'm sorry.. i'm just sorry.. and i have to believe that it wasn't just because he couldn't get out of bed... it was his way of giving her closure to their entire marriage...i'm sorry we waited to long ... i'm sorry it took cancer... i'm just sorry... that time i made no attempt to hide my tears...

i only know what it feels like to loose a dad... even if he was the most important person in my life.. i will never know or be able to understand what she lost... i pray that the memory of last year's birthday carries her through this one...

it has been 4 months

2010-05-01T09:50:00.000-07:00

dear papa,

today marks four months since you have been gone.... four months since you took your last breath.. four months since you took our hearts with you...

in four months you have missed so much... i am finally done with school... i gained another 3 pounds... i am trying dad.. i promise... to loose... eric and i want a puppy to get us ready for parenthood.. i am looking for jobs closer to home... although part of me thinks.. what for? you aren't there.... eric is hunting this week.. i know he thinks of you.. misses calling you to talk strategy....

emilio is showing so much strength.. you would be so proud of him... he struggles with his grades.. but that's been an ongoing battle... the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep are huge pictures of you... he trying so hard to be tough.. to be what you would be for us..

mom is lost dad... totally lost... sometimes i think she is getting it together.. but it has to be so hard.. to juggle everything you did for us...and to miss the gift you gave her in your last days

you would be praying for mama vera dad.. she is having surgery on monday... you would be praying for cousins you looked on as sons and daughters... everybody's lives were upturned.. but i can see people are starting to move on... in a good way.. in a way you would want them to...

you have missed so much in four months... a lifetime has been lived in that long.. but we have missed you as well...

in four months we have not seen you smile... or seen you dance... or hear you sing... we have not seen your face light up at seemingly small things... we have not heard your rant over the new AZ immigration debacle.. we have not held your hand as you prayed for us...

it is so hard dad.. to conciser another month.. a year.. without you to come... but i know it will.. and it scares the hell out of me... my new favorite saying is "my daddy was a bull rider.. there isn't much i am afraid of"... but i am afraid.. every day.. to be here without you... i focus on your strength on your desire to live... and get through another day... but today... i need you papa... i selfishly need you HERE...

i love you,

Ana Marie

i'm sorry.. who are you again?

2010-04-29T08:33:00.000-07:00

at my dad's funeral we all spoke... my brother, my mom and i... i think it was a testament to him that we were able to do so.. for him... in my mini eulogy i spoke about priorities.. all tying into how my dad made his family a priority... i wanted to get the point across that a loss makes us realize how short life is.. and how little room there is in our lives for people who do not wish us well.. for toxic relationships....

it was sad to realize, during this whole process, who really just could care less.. or maybe someone cared but wasn't willing to put themselves out there to express it... i realized i want people who are willing to be there for me.. for us... in my life.. and i wanted those who showed no interest.. no support for me.. for us.. out of my life... i deserve better.. my dad deserved better...

since his passing.. there are people i methodically cut out of my life.. in doing so.. i felt lighter.. and it allowed space for supportive people to further surround me...

in the same vein i hope that i have been able to evolve into a better person .. a better friend... i want to be the type of person that i would want in my own life...

my brother ended his speech by thanking people that were there... "and to those who were not there... you missed out on some special memories"... i was so proud of him for saying this.. it was a way of saying... we will be okay.... we know we did our best for him.. we know we did our best for each other... but you are pitied... for not having known him the way we do.. for not having the amazing memories he made for us...

and these people will miss out on the memories we continue to make...

5 things you MUST know about my papa

2010-04-26T17:02:00.000-07:00

the entire reason for this blog is to give me a safe space where i can talk freely about my papa... in my intro post i expressed that sometimes i felt as though people avoided talking about him, were sick of talking about him, were sick of hearing about him... but.. that can't happen.. my papa was/is the most important person in my life... my life.. who i am... was shaped by him...

for as long as i can remember my mom would say "you are just like your dad"...and that wasn't meant to be a compliment.. she meant i was stubborn... i held my emotions close.. i was independent with no small amount of wanderlust...so yup... i am just like my dad in those ways...

they say you marry someone like your dad... yeah i did that... and i will never regret it... i feel just as safe with him as i did in my dad's arms... i know he will be the kind of father who enjoys his kids and makes them feel important.. entitled to his time...the way my dad

my dad's passing has also shaped me..in my fight and hate of cancer... in my choice to live my life to its utter fullest... to be sure of myself... to grab what i want... to grasp onto my brother even harder... to love with all i have...

in his life there are 5 things that shape me as well:

my dad was not afraid of the tighty whiteys... he would open the door in them.. unashamed.. and more focused on the reason you are at the door to begin with... when he was getting very thin and his shorts fell down in the front lawn (can you call rocks a lawn?) he just grinned.. and said the breeze felt nice....
my dad loved to dance... it was not surprising to catch him doing a little jig to whatever music was in his head.. and if there was music.. watch out!
my dad loved music (hence the new playlist) our lives were filled with music.. many times he would start singing and after a while we would all join in... sometimes he would sit and strum his guitar and my brother would get out his keyboard and it would sound just horrible! when his mp3 player was full of battery power, he was in his own little world of cindy lauper and old country (i am sure there is an entire blog entry on this a-comming)
my dad was strong... not in the way that most girls except their dads to be.. i mean STRONG... naturally strong.. he definitely had a steel working bull riding grip.. holding his hand when he prayed, even in his last days, felt like holding an anvil...
my dad was happiest outdoors.. hunting.. fishing... camping... even simply sitting on the porch... he was like an ocean mammal.. he had to get out for air in order to live..what i think he got out of it... is what i am ever in search of.. freedom...

if you know nothing else about my dad.. if you knew him.. you knew these things... if you know nothing about me.. if you know me.. you know these things make up my life as much as they made up his own....

what the hell did we say?

2010-04-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

we said nothing.. we didn't talk about "it".... this morning i am angry at this fact.. because it has left me with so much to speculate... i have been following the blogs of some cancer patients and i am so envious of their openness... even to be able to vent about crappy side effects or the fear of dying... we didn't talk about any of it...

even when my dad was in the throws of major pain.. we didn't know... instead we learned to look for signs like the way he would ball his fists.... why did he let himself suffer? why not just say... i need more pain meds? all because we were too weak for him.. we couldn't take knowing.. is this what he thought? didn't he know.. did't we tell him enough that he was the most important thing in our lives.. that we would carry him.. that we would do anything for him.. that we COULD take it... ???? i guess we didn't...

instead i am left to dream the conversations we never had.. the conversations that i'm sure were in our hearts but went unsaid...

in my dream last night i was curled up next to him in the hospital bed we had delivered to the house... my head is on his shoulder.. my mouth inches from his ear.. he is telling me that life is wonderful and that i should grasp all i can get.. and i am promising him that i will live life to it's fullest.. that i want to live to be a hundred and every day.. every breath will be a tribute to him... i will live the life he can't... and he is proud of me for his...

but my god.. why wasn't this said when he was here? why am i left to dream the things i should have said.. he should have said.. we all should have said... ????

children always need their parents

2010-04-24T09:25:00.000-07:00

my brother is sick.. the flu or something... it's amazing how a stomach ache can reduce a sixteen year old the size of a linebacker to my little bubbie who still needs his mamone... (binky)...he is enjoying that my mom is taking care of him... that's what moms do.. they soothe us and care for us when we are sick....

it makes me think though.. there is a point (usually it starts at preteen) when we pull away from our parents... we express a need for independence and convince ourselves that we don't need anyone...only to realize too late that we do....

we take moms and dads for granted... especially dads.. dads are supposed to be strong... indestructible... when i was home with him during his last few months, i accidentally set off all of the smoke alarms...i ran around trying to find a ladder high enough to reach the ceiling.. i literally ripped the alarms from the ceiling one by one until it was finally quiet... i was in full panic attack mode... meanwhile my dad retreated outside to read a magazine and escape the noise.....i crumpled to the kitchen floor and sobbed.... it was a turning point for me...my indestructible dad who has always carried us could not help me....it was the first time in my entire life that he could not help me... and it hurt like hell... to know that he was probably feeling just as helpless watching me panic...

today i need my daddy just as much as i needed him that day.... and my heart breaks for that 16 year old linebacker sleeping away the flu.. who still needs his parents...both of them....

ask a question... get preoccupation

2010-04-22T16:16:00.000-07:00

recently someone (hi nicole) posted a blog post about the possibility of strange happenings being contributed to her dad, who was also taken by this monster... it got me thinking.. and thinking... yes.. i was a little preoccupied today...

i think i was perplexed on my ideas vs. my ideals...

when my tata passed years ago... our home smelled like him for days... then later i got a visit... my husband and i got home from a road trip and the radio was on, and loud (it was the song he was buried to... number one.. it's a spanish song and i don't listen to spanish radio stations... number two... why was the radio on?) our apartment smelled of him for hours after we turned off the radio... then i started having "dreams"...they aren't really dreams..because they happen just before i fall into an actual sleep... they are very real.. i can feel things..like the fabric of his shirt... i can smell the oil in his hair... and when i "wake up" i feel overwhelmingly empty....

when my dad was fighting the monster my tata came to me... i told him i did not want to miss my dad the way i missed him... his mouth moved.. no sound came out... then later that month... he visited me and my brother as we napped.. i saw him look at my brother and shake his head... he couldn't believe what a man he'd turned into....i very very very much believe my visits are actual visits...i think my tata comes to me because i need him to...

when my nana passed years ago.. my mom saw her in the hallway of the house the day after she passed....she was healthy looking.. rather than looking like she did when Alzheimers not only took her memory but ravaged her body.. i very very very much believe my mom did see her...i believe my nana wanted my mom to know that she was no longer sick.. no longer suffering...

knowing these things one would think i would welcome a visit from my dad or some inkling that he is still with us... I DON'T... i haven't yet wrapped my mind around it yet.. but i think i prefer to believe that he is in a far better place than earth.. and that he is not thinking of us... i once heard (not sure where) that when you get to heaven you forget your earthly life.. so that you don't miss your loved ones.. and the life you had.. that heaven truly holds no tears... i want to believe that my dad is happy.. and not missing us or feeling helpless that he can no longer carry us as he did in life... i want to believe that we assured him on his last day that we would be okay without him.. that he passed on without worry....so i find myself closed to the idea... in order to believe the ideal...

it's a paradox of thinking i know... like i said.. i don't quite understand it myself...

from the mouths of babes

2010-04-21T02:37:00.000-07:00

kids... they seem to have a better handle on this grieving thing than most adults..

i left my special ed. student teaching assignment for three months to be with my dad...when i told my kids i was leaving to be with my dad and that i had no way of knowing when i would be back they had tons of questions:

why can't he go to the hospital?

why can't the doctors help him?

is he going to die?

each question i answered honestly...the question that seemed to stick with me was "when he dies, will you always have tears in your eyes?"... it's a loaded question... it could mean.. will i cry, or will i be sad... but it made me think that he could see my sadness.. and he wondered.. will that go away...it made me think of something someone told me about loosing a parent...it's a pain you never heal from.. you just learn to live with it...

when i came back to finish working with the kids they had many condolences to give... mostly they said i'm sorry...or nothing

it struck me that these kids understood more about grief than adults when one parent told me..."ehh.. it happens.. better him than you right?" when adults say things.. i have to remind myself that they really just don't know what to say... but even kids know that in that case.. you just don't say anything...

a few weeks ago my cousin's adorable son who loved his tio robert. asked when he was coming back.... his dog had died too and he said they were just taking too long to get back....

i know Ry... they are taking way too long!

a lifetime of lessons on his last day of life

2010-04-18T17:07:00.000-07:00

my papa's last day is not one i like to think about.. but there are parts of it that i have to think about...that give me strength

he woke up in the morning and we knew it would be a different day because he wasn't able to get out of bed for the first time...he spent the morning in and out of sleep...at one point he called me close to him and gave me a message to tell everyone "just thank you, just thank you, just thank you"...by about 7pm. my aunt, who was a retired hospice nurse said that it would be a matter of minutes... his breathing was shallow.. he was non-responsive... we prayed and sang to him.. hours passed and he was still there... we took turns sitting with him.. sharing memories.. while it was a hard time.. sad.. there were tears... but there was also laughter... and more importantly...togetherness...

at midnight my cousin and brother put on papa's rodeo gear and took his cowbells out to announce the new year (this was papa's idea... days before he told my cousin that he could ring in the new year.. literally) the boys jumped in a convertible and we cheered them on...i cried and laughed at the same time... i was so sad that papa was in bed and possibly wasn't aware of what the boys were doing... and happy that they were doing what he'd wanted them to do....

more hours passed and at about 3am my brother and i went to lay down.. we left him with kisses and constant reassurances that it was okay for him to go... a half hour later we were woken up... he had passed... i will always believe he waited for his kids to leave the room... he didn't want us to hang on to him as he let us go....

i will take what i've learned for that day and put it to use for the rest of my life... appreciate those you love.. never fail to thank them.. to love them... and above all LIVE... live life... be crazy.. ring those proverbial cow bells every day... let everyone know...you are alive... that you are life!

Control

2010-04-16T12:55:00.000-07:00

advice... want some?

never tell a cancer patient what to do.

consider it a pet peeve of mine.

think about it.... when you have cancer inside of you, you have no choice but to relinquish some control...

so who are we.. or who is anyone to tell a patient what they should do and what treatment they should or should not do? don't they deserve THAT much control over what happens to them?

i was thinking of my dad today.. and how much he wanted to live... he would have tried anything..had there been anything else to try.... we were right behind him...but always giving him control to try or not try a treatment... believe me i wonder all the time if he would have had a better quality of life if he hadn't had treatment... chemo ravaged his body which he never recovered from... and i wanted him to stop and just enjoy the rest of his life...but he needed to do it for him... for us...

he didn't sleep and many days he would drag... and we would nag him to sleep at night.. that would make him feel better during the day... finally one night he looked my mom in the eyes and said "listen, you aren't going to like it, but i am going to sit here in my chair and watch tv. and i will go to bed when i want to".... my mom and i looked at each other and giggled... pumping our fists inside ourselves shouting "you go with your bad self".... by all means.. he deserved control over his damn sleep pattern...in the end.. i'm so glad that my papa passed with dignitary.. a man in control of what cancer would allow.. till the end

on God.. and faith

2010-04-14T02:26:00.000-07:00

my memories of church consisted of singing and falling asleep at my Nana's feet...the foundation was in Christianity...that about covers it...

my mom "gave her life to Christ" a few years ago..to be honest we all struggled with it... there were bible studies two times a week and church two times a week...there were different views and ideas... i think we all worried that we had lost her...

my dad and i had a conversation about it...he had started to go to some bible studies and to church on some Sundays....but he held fast that there was no plan to be baptized as well... (i have only shared the hilarious nature of this conversation with my brother and i like that we share it so i won't write it here)

after his diagnosis and as the cancer progressed he started to attend church more often..then in September 2009 he was baptized...i called the following day to congratulate him... is that what you do when someone is baptized? awkward! haha.... but he accepted the congrats... and i had to ask him... i had to know...was he doing this out of fear? was he tying up loose ends? what he worried about his fate?

you see before this i hadn't talked about death with him.. actually we didn't talk about it again... ever... but i needed to be sure.... "i did it because i felt it was right"... and that was all the assurance i needed...

my dad was considered a new Christian....but any old Christian could tell you he was a walking (rolling) example of pure faith... it broke my heart to hear him pray... he never prayed for himself.. he prayed for us to have faith... and for those praying for him not to give up.. to have faith....he prayed for other people far less sick than he was... to have faith

i struggled to not be angry with God.. to not place blame on something i was questionable about to begin with... i never failed to be amazed that he was not angry with God.. nor did he ever ask why?

Faith... in seeing that and being surrounded by it... i can no longer question God...i don't know if it will ever lead to my own baptism or assimilation into organized religion.. but i am sure.. without a doubt that God exists and worked within my dad.... and that God answers his prayers every day by giving us strength to live without him.

sleep? what's that?

2010-04-12T08:52:00.001-07:00

i've gotten used to not sleeping. even when i DO sleep it's not a fitful sleep.

it started with the all night worry-fests. all night worrying about an appointment to the oncologist coming up. all night wondering what would happen to us if it didn't turn out right. all night thinking about him and how he was really feeling.

after the last dr. apt. i went home. i hated to face it but i went home to spend his last moments with him... he got worse and needed people to be with him at night. i took my turns. he didn't sleep. he tried to suck as much life out of the day as he could. night was too quiet. i'm sure this is when he let himself think of the worst. we watched tv, took multiple trips to the bathroom, avoided sleep. on my nights off i was woken up to give him morphine... i was his pusher :0)...or find the remote control... i got used to being fully awake upon being woken up...we all did....when he passed we all looked at each other at night.. wondering now what?

since i've been home.. i still don't sleep... my mind doesn't stop... even when i do sleep i can't escape my thoughts... i dream of telling him things i never did.. never had the guts to... time taken for granted....i wake up fully awake and my mind is not my own.. it belongs to him.. to them... night is too quiet.. it's when the tears come and i try not to wake my husband.....

last night was a particularly rough night.... in the day.. as in many of my days... i am like a zombie without having slept with left over bits and pieces of thoughts and dreams still floating in my head.

We Are

2010-04-11T15:52:00.000-07:00

I am made of lost memories, of last breaths, of first cries

I am the stillness of laying awake, listening for a call that I will never hear again.

I am a legacy formed from the word Fight

I am fulfilled by purpose, I am without purpose

I am saved from the beautiful pain of hundreds of needles passing through skin

until the picture becomes clear

I live within the smell of witch hazel and of ink

I am his sister

I am his wife

I am her daughter

I am lost within life’s roles

like being in a house of mirrors… I can’t find my face

I am forever striving to be resilient… whole

I am forgotten then remembered when it’s too late

I am not yet who I will be tomorrow

He is stubborn, angry….typical

He is “Chubby” and “Papacito”

He is too young to remember

too young to matter, too young to care

He’s broken 10 goldfish, countless hearts, my dining room chair

He’s lost every grandparent, a dad, my Metalica CD

He’s taken candy from stores, bikes from open garages, my heart’s rhythm

He’s thrown away hours online, his first pair of glasses, my advice

He is my little brother in the middle of the night with pinches and wet willies

He is my big brother when he comforts, consoles and cares for me

He is amazing, endearing and infuriating

He is two, ten and 16

all in one

He is not yet strong enough to carry us

He will not let us fall

He is the man of the house… too soon

my family is like Jenga...

2010-04-10T11:12:00.000-07:00

you ever play that game Jenga? you build this tower of blocks then you take turns taking out a block until the tower tumbles down...

since my papa's passed i feel like it's harder and harder to keep our blocks together...

we are all doing our best...we are all doing what we can and what we know how.... neither of us is ready to rebuild our tower without his block in it....

on a happier note i have begun to surround myself with cancer.. in a productive way this time... it's not all about worrying and waiting...and my anger can be put to better use than breaking things around the house or yelling at my husband....

i have signed up to volunteer for cancer society of america.. i will be involved in two 5ks next month...i am crocheting my chemo caps like a mad woman... i hate this disease but sitting around hating it is doing no good.... and my dad's legacy deserves more than anger... this is me officially OFF my ass!

adding yet another stage

2010-04-08T07:58:00.000-07:00

there is a new stage to the grieving process....i am calling this one "taking music back"

this one sucks for me because i love music... i don't do anything without music... i am eclectic which i blame squarely on my father....but there are certain songs that i just can't listen to...sometimes i'll start a song but then turn it off because it ends up feeling like self opposed sadomasochism....i can not wait to get to this stage...i miss my precious songs!

i can not listen to:

I'm Yours- Jason Mraz - as my dad passed we sang some hymns around him...my brother sang this to him... months before he passed my brother asked him what his favorite song was...my dad said "the one that plays on sister's (that's me) phone when eric (that's my husband) calls"

Bobby McGee- Janis Joplin- one Christmas long long ago i wanted a Debbie Gibson CD... i got Joplin instead!

Most anything by Kris Kristofferson, The Eagles, Gordon Lightfoot or Michael Martin Murphy- actually add almost anyone who's played Austin City Limits (he never missed it)

Alison Krause make my eyes water when she sings just about anything.. but Your Long Journey is Russian roulette

Anna Nalik's Just Breath (2 AM) is off limits... for one line... yes... ONE LINE

Then there's the rally cry... Bonnie Raitt sings "Help me lord I'm feeling low"...... a song he would listen to and sing (shout)... loud... before his in office chemo treatments... I use it now when i need to feel near him... or get some courage.. figuring if he could do what he did for us then i surely am capable of more... but sometimes it just makes me think of what he must have been feeling....he didn't talk about it.. much... he never said "this sucks" "i hate this" "i'm dying".... he just rallied.... but what must he have been feeling?

There are more songs.. in fact... we all (all who have been touched by his mighty life) have our own off limit songs....

I can't wait to get to that stage...i'm a little tired of hip hop.. but hip hop is safe

the roller coaster

2010-04-05T12:46:00.000-07:00

what are the stages of grieving again? everyone say it with me:

shock and denial
pain and guilt
anger and bargaining
depression and reflection
acceptance and hope

i know them well... because this is the ride you are on after diagnosis as well.. in fact i went through the stages after every visit to the oncologist... every time a treatment didn't work, every scan that showed how aggressive the cancer was...then the loss of him....

i don't think it should end with acceptance and hope though.... i think the end stage should be the ability to remember someone fondly without pain... i am able to think of him and laugh... or smile.. but always later came the pain.. the hurt at the back of my jaw and burning behind my eyes...but today.. i reached a new step

my dad used to play this joke on my mom.. we would be driving and my dad would ask my mom to put her hand to the window

"did you feel it?" he asked

"feel what?"

"did you feel the pain?"

confused she'd say no she didn't

after a bump or passing of power lines he ask her again....

it took a while for her to "get" that it was pane.. not pain... as in window pane... hardee har har

so my mom called with this memory today... she said "i think he would do things just to prove that i was stupid!"

i've been laughing since... with no pain!

safe within my anger stage

2010-04-04T11:35:00.000-07:00

my dad did what many patients do after a diagnosis... he spent time on line finding homeopathic "cures" and a multitude of reason for what was happening.

don't drink dairy... it'll give you cancer.

eat whole grains... they prevent cancer.

don't microwave plastic... it causes cancer.

he became a bit of a health nut for the extent of his treatment.

on his last visit with the oncologist he was told none of the treatments had worked. his cancer had progressed as it was very aggressive. palliative care was suggested.... he came home... and ate two doughnuts and a glass of cow milk.

yesterday i was told that my aunt (tia, mama) vera has been diagnosed with RCC and there are hotspots on her colon which indicates that it has most likely spread. before i was born she battled breast cancer and her breast was removed. she never had re constructive surgery and is proud of her win over cancer and big foamy falsie.

i thought about my dad's attempt to save us all from cancer by forcing us to consider food that was good for us and the overall avoidance of toxins...little did he understand cancer's true nature... but now we understand... cancer is the boogeyman

never thought i'd do this...

2010-04-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

i'm a fairly private person when it comes to my emotions.... maybe that's why i mix up pain and anger... hurt and hostility... frustration and the need to throw things...

i suppose this blog is a last ditch effort to regain sanity...

my dad is dead... yeah..that stings...

my dad died on january 1st of this year.... it was less than a year from when he was diagnosed with rcc (kidney cancer)... by the time he was diagnosed it was stage 4.... it was in his lungs and lymph nodes...

people are tired of hearing about it.. i get the feeling people just want me to be better already... which is why i don't share much... unless i'm asked... and even then.. i have gotten really good at saying "i'm fine" in a way that makes people stop asking....

but when people stop asking i loose my outlet.. i loose my dad.. i can only keep him alive in my heart.. so i have to keep talking about him.. i have to tell his story.. our story... and this is where i will do it...

cheers