They say time heals all wounds. And I really hope this is true. It's been four months exactly since my mom has been gone and I can't say it's any easier. If anything it seems as it gets harder and harder. It gets longer and longer since the last time I saw her, gave her a hug, told her I love her, saw the joy in her eyes and the happiness in my babies eyes when they were with her. I think that's what I mourn the most. I will mourn my children never knowing what an amazing grandma she was and how much she loved them. She always wanted to be a grandma. In fact, almost every second since we got married all she wanted was to have grandchildren. And for the 4 1/2 years before Jericho was born, believe me, she didn't hesitate to let me know how much I needed to have kids:)
Tonight we came back from our third trip to Hawaii together. The first time was right before we knew that we were going to be moving to San Diego for James to go to grad school. We went to Hawaii so we could check out Hawaii Pacific University. That was the first school to accept him. It was also his birthday so it was an even better excuse to go to Hawaii. The second time was a little bit over a year after he graduated from his MBA and Masters in Nursing programs and Jericho was 10 months old. No one else knew, but we were on our babymoon. I was a month pregnant with Karis and we were planning on telling our parents when we returned from Hawaii.
The really funny thing is that I would always joke with my parents and James' parents about getting pregnant right away after Jericho was born. I guess the joke was on me when I got pregnant when Jericho was nine months old. We decided to tell our parents the night we flew in from Hawaii. We stopped by James' parents house first. They were shocked. They always warned us to wait between kids because of how hard it is to have babies so close together. Of course they were happy but we could tell they were thinking..."what are you guys thinking??" They are always so supportive of us and they told us they were happy, but we could see the fear in their eyes too:)
Next, we went to my parents house. It was just past midnight and their only grandchild was coming to see them so of course they were awake. We had Jericho tell them he was going to be a big brother while wearing his Halloween costume....a kangaroo with it's baby in it's pouch. We told them that he was carrying his baby just like mommy was. My mom's reaction was so classic, my mom. "Are you serious??" was all she could say. Then the obvious question, "are you pregnant?? Are you kidding??" We would laugh about it afterwards, but even our planning, or lack of planning, wasn't going to stop God's plans.
Karis was the girl I always wanted. I was thrilled when I found out she was a girl. Since I had such a close bond to my mom, I always envisioned having s daughter in hopes that we would share a closeness like I did with my mom.
God knew that I needed Karis. His timing was perfect for when I got pregnant. Mom was able to meet her. My mom called Karis her replacement, and my mom got to spend the first year of Karis' life with her. Mom was there a few hours after Karis was born. In between her chemos she would come and visit us in San Diego or we would come up and visit her. We got to move back to Pasadena for seven months before mom had to go and we spent EVERY possible second we could together. We went on trips to Santa Barbara, San Diego, and Las Vegas during those seven months. And mom was there celebrating with us the day that Karis was dedicated to the Lord. All the while, that entire year of Karis' first year of life, my mom had cancer. She went through chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and then chemotherapy for almost ten more months after all of what she already endured. And then went to be home with the Lord almost a month exactly after Karis' fist birthday.
I've heard the quote, "Everybody dies. Not everybody lives." And I am reminded of my mom when I think about this quote. Though my mom had cancer, you would have NEVER known. She was so positive. She was so hopeful. She watched my kids the night before she went to the hospital so James and I could have a date night. She didn't allow cancer to take away her life.
No wonder I was missing my mom so much more tonight. The last time we came back from Hawaii, we went to share with my mom the amazing news. It's really ironic how our memories have such ways of reminding us about things that sometimes we want to forget. On the flight home, during one of the movies I watched someone said, "All I remember are the good memories, and those are the worse kinds."
I still can't believe she's gone. I miss her every second of the day. They say time heals all wounds. It’s going to take a lot of time to heal this wound, but God is so incredibly faithful. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” - Psalm 147:3
Thank you, Jesus for your promises. I will trust you no matter what.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
My Drug of Choice
This morning was a complete blur. You would have thought that I was drugged with the illegal type. Last night I started getting the sniffles. The kind that doesn't let you breathe properly when lying down. I decided that I wasn't going to go to sleep at my normal sleeping hour, around 1 or 2am. For one night this week, or should I say one night since February 22, 2010, I was going to take medicine to help me sleep, and not replay in my mind over and over what could be different, if my mom was still here, and what could've been done so that she didn't have to have cancer. I know I sound crazy, but for the last 19 months, I've had a hard time going to sleep because of my thoughts that don't turn off.
All this to say, all heck broke loose, my kids were screaming their heads off and going crazy for an hour before I had any recollection of the fact that I am mom. When mommy is sick, the world continues. Moms have no time to be sick. Thank God, my cousin was here and watched dinosaur train and gave Jericho milk so that I could stay in my unconscious splendor for another hour. I finally woke up at 8:30 because the screaming alarm clock wouldn't stop. I got out of bed, still lost in the cloudiness of Tylenol PM and carried my sweet Karis and placed her in my lap. My cousin walked into Karis’ room and explained the past hour to me. I'm sure I looked crazy...out of it. He asked me what drugs I took...I responded slowly, "T-y-l-e-n-o-l P-M." I was out of it. Really out of it. I couldn't even imagine myself on the illegal drugs. SCARY. And I thank God for keeping me away from them in high school. Many, many years ago I had some friends that had the goal of getting me get into it with them. I know that with my type of personality, if I would have given in, it really would have destroyed my life.
Yesterday was the first day of MOPS. I can't say enough about MOPS, and what an amazing blessing it has been to me this past year. The speaker talked about faithfulness and asked us to think about what was hindering us from being faithful.
A culmination of different conversations, a recent argument with the hubby, exhaustion, and sleepless nights came together and confirmed: BUSYNESS.
I have always been a busy person. For those of you who know strengthfinders my number one strength is arranger. In layman’s terms it means multi-tasker and living passionately and striving when being able to live this way.
I don't know why this surprised me. Or why it took me ALL these years to accept. In high school I was involved in everything possible ASB, cheerleading, choir, clubs I was president of, because God forbid I couldn't just be a part of something. Committees, fundraisers, oh dear God it makes me tired just typing this. In college I was a Nursing Major. Nursing majors had the reputation of being the people you went to school with for four years and no one knew because they were always so busy studying. But to no surprise I was in choir, a resident advisor, and I prided myself when people were surprised that I was a nursing major.
This "strength" has always driven my husband crazy. The detriment of this strength for me is that when things get hard, I delve even more into busyness. Busyness is my drug of choice. The thing that numbs the pain and helps me to forget what I don't want to remember, until the night comes, everyone is asleep, and the only person I am left with is myself. Which is why, even though my children sleep so amazingly, 10-12 hours to be exact, since Karis has been a baby, I still have sleepless nights.
The day my mom died I told James, "It's time for me to go back to work." Right away I contacted my previous company and told them that I was ready. I was ready to take on new projects. I started emailing around inquiring about jobs that I heard about. Retrospectively, I was looking for something to fill the void and numb away the pain of losing my mom.
A few weeks ago the routine of September began. Mommy and me preschool Monday and Tuesday, MOPS (and being a part of leadership) on Wednesday, Positive Parenting Class on Thursday, Bible study with two of my best friends at the crack of dawn on Friday morning. We are scheduled every single day, not to mention taking care of my children, feeding them a decent meal, getting a couple of showers in sometime during the week, the normal taking care of my family and my own life, having a decent relationship with my husband, and taking care of my mom’s affairs. I was beginning to feel a little run down. Did I mention that I'm a part of the women’s ministry at church, and working on starting a new ministry? No wonder I'm exhausted.
Yesterday I started to accept the fact that my busyness, my lifelong coping mechanism, was starting to wear on me and my kids AND my husband.
This morning we stayed home. I didn't rush out the door to our scheduled activity. The kids and I stayed in our PJs until after 1pm. I was able to have a phone conversation with a dear friend who has been encouraging me in my marriage and with my blogging. I got to tell her how thankful I am that we were able to become friends because she sought me out because I "wear make-up."
I had a great conversation with my aunt who I needed to talk to about my mom. We talked about how it still doesn't seem real even though it has already been two months and we were there with her when she took her last breath. We talked about how much we miss her and how I wish things were different.
At 10:30am, my sister, who is a teacher, called me. She was on her way home from school. She lost her voice. I convinced her to come sleep at my house, so that we could be together.
If I continued to succumb to my drug of choice, even though my kids are sick and exhausted, I would've missed out on two very needed conversations this morning. My sister wouldn't have come over to sleep at my house, and I would continue to be crazy and busy and numb to the pain of not having my mom's presence in my life.
One day of being home with my thoughts, my messy house (because we are actually home to ransack it), and the ability to rest, has helped my soul to continue to mend and be present in my children's lives, and to those around me.
So starting today I will be more purposeful, in what I choose to do and choose not to do, and know that it will take time. It will take lots of time to heal from missing my mom so much, but it is ok. I will try to not fill the sadness with busyness anymore. I know it will take time to overcome this addiction of busyness. But through God’s help, and the grace of those around me, I will get through this.
All this to say, all heck broke loose, my kids were screaming their heads off and going crazy for an hour before I had any recollection of the fact that I am mom. When mommy is sick, the world continues. Moms have no time to be sick. Thank God, my cousin was here and watched dinosaur train and gave Jericho milk so that I could stay in my unconscious splendor for another hour. I finally woke up at 8:30 because the screaming alarm clock wouldn't stop. I got out of bed, still lost in the cloudiness of Tylenol PM and carried my sweet Karis and placed her in my lap. My cousin walked into Karis’ room and explained the past hour to me. I'm sure I looked crazy...out of it. He asked me what drugs I took...I responded slowly, "T-y-l-e-n-o-l P-M." I was out of it. Really out of it. I couldn't even imagine myself on the illegal drugs. SCARY. And I thank God for keeping me away from them in high school. Many, many years ago I had some friends that had the goal of getting me get into it with them. I know that with my type of personality, if I would have given in, it really would have destroyed my life.
Yesterday was the first day of MOPS. I can't say enough about MOPS, and what an amazing blessing it has been to me this past year. The speaker talked about faithfulness and asked us to think about what was hindering us from being faithful.
A culmination of different conversations, a recent argument with the hubby, exhaustion, and sleepless nights came together and confirmed: BUSYNESS.
I have always been a busy person. For those of you who know strengthfinders my number one strength is arranger. In layman’s terms it means multi-tasker and living passionately and striving when being able to live this way.
I don't know why this surprised me. Or why it took me ALL these years to accept. In high school I was involved in everything possible ASB, cheerleading, choir, clubs I was president of, because God forbid I couldn't just be a part of something. Committees, fundraisers, oh dear God it makes me tired just typing this. In college I was a Nursing Major. Nursing majors had the reputation of being the people you went to school with for four years and no one knew because they were always so busy studying. But to no surprise I was in choir, a resident advisor, and I prided myself when people were surprised that I was a nursing major.
This "strength" has always driven my husband crazy. The detriment of this strength for me is that when things get hard, I delve even more into busyness. Busyness is my drug of choice. The thing that numbs the pain and helps me to forget what I don't want to remember, until the night comes, everyone is asleep, and the only person I am left with is myself. Which is why, even though my children sleep so amazingly, 10-12 hours to be exact, since Karis has been a baby, I still have sleepless nights.
The day my mom died I told James, "It's time for me to go back to work." Right away I contacted my previous company and told them that I was ready. I was ready to take on new projects. I started emailing around inquiring about jobs that I heard about. Retrospectively, I was looking for something to fill the void and numb away the pain of losing my mom.
A few weeks ago the routine of September began. Mommy and me preschool Monday and Tuesday, MOPS (and being a part of leadership) on Wednesday, Positive Parenting Class on Thursday, Bible study with two of my best friends at the crack of dawn on Friday morning. We are scheduled every single day, not to mention taking care of my children, feeding them a decent meal, getting a couple of showers in sometime during the week, the normal taking care of my family and my own life, having a decent relationship with my husband, and taking care of my mom’s affairs. I was beginning to feel a little run down. Did I mention that I'm a part of the women’s ministry at church, and working on starting a new ministry? No wonder I'm exhausted.
Yesterday I started to accept the fact that my busyness, my lifelong coping mechanism, was starting to wear on me and my kids AND my husband.
This morning we stayed home. I didn't rush out the door to our scheduled activity. The kids and I stayed in our PJs until after 1pm. I was able to have a phone conversation with a dear friend who has been encouraging me in my marriage and with my blogging. I got to tell her how thankful I am that we were able to become friends because she sought me out because I "wear make-up."
I had a great conversation with my aunt who I needed to talk to about my mom. We talked about how it still doesn't seem real even though it has already been two months and we were there with her when she took her last breath. We talked about how much we miss her and how I wish things were different.
At 10:30am, my sister, who is a teacher, called me. She was on her way home from school. She lost her voice. I convinced her to come sleep at my house, so that we could be together.
If I continued to succumb to my drug of choice, even though my kids are sick and exhausted, I would've missed out on two very needed conversations this morning. My sister wouldn't have come over to sleep at my house, and I would continue to be crazy and busy and numb to the pain of not having my mom's presence in my life.
One day of being home with my thoughts, my messy house (because we are actually home to ransack it), and the ability to rest, has helped my soul to continue to mend and be present in my children's lives, and to those around me.
So starting today I will be more purposeful, in what I choose to do and choose not to do, and know that it will take time. It will take lots of time to heal from missing my mom so much, but it is ok. I will try to not fill the sadness with busyness anymore. I know it will take time to overcome this addiction of busyness. But through God’s help, and the grace of those around me, I will get through this.
Monday, September 12, 2011
How to Live with Cancer
If I’m being completely honest, I want to rip down every Colon Canswer, Prostate Canswer, and Breast Canswer billboard I see when I’m driving down the freeway. The truth is that the particular hospital that displays these billboards does not have all of the answers about cancer. I cringe every time I see them because they give such false hope to people battling this horrid disease. Two and a half weeks before my mom died, she had an appointment for a second opinion with this hospital. The doctor she met with told her that she could try the last chemo that she was on and all he could recommend was hospice.
I was there with my mom during that appointment, and her response was, “We just have to pray that this one works.” I was speechless. I felt like I got kicked in the throat. I could not get any words out of my mouth.
You see, through the 17 months that my mom knew she had cancer; she lived with so much grace and courage. To this day I do not understand how she never broke down or got angry. Maybe she did in the quiet of her own soul, but never outwardly did I see her anger.
Since the minute she was diagnosed her response was always the same. “I’m not scared. I know where I am going. He can take me any time.”
I hated when she said that because I WAS NOT READY. Didn’t she want to see my kids grow up? Didn’t she want to be with us for as long as she could? We were just starting a brand new phase in life. We just moved back from San Diego so that the kids and I could spend time doing all of the things that daughters and grandchildren do with their mom and grandmother.
The thing about my mom is that she had an eternal perspective. God was close to her, she never stopped praying. And even though I prayed and BEGGED for God to heal her, He decided to heal her in a different way.
My mom’s faith was secure. She did not have any regrets in life. She was steadfast in her hope in the Lord. She had peace. She loved God. And she was ready to be with Him when He was ready for her.
Unfortunately, He was ready before I could ever be.
God forbid I ever have this horrible disease. But if I do, I have an amazing example of someone who lived with grace, love, and hope during the hardest time of her life.
Thank you, mom for loving God and trusting Him with your life. I have a lot to live up to.
I was there with my mom during that appointment, and her response was, “We just have to pray that this one works.” I was speechless. I felt like I got kicked in the throat. I could not get any words out of my mouth.
You see, through the 17 months that my mom knew she had cancer; she lived with so much grace and courage. To this day I do not understand how she never broke down or got angry. Maybe she did in the quiet of her own soul, but never outwardly did I see her anger.
Since the minute she was diagnosed her response was always the same. “I’m not scared. I know where I am going. He can take me any time.”
I hated when she said that because I WAS NOT READY. Didn’t she want to see my kids grow up? Didn’t she want to be with us for as long as she could? We were just starting a brand new phase in life. We just moved back from San Diego so that the kids and I could spend time doing all of the things that daughters and grandchildren do with their mom and grandmother.
The thing about my mom is that she had an eternal perspective. God was close to her, she never stopped praying. And even though I prayed and BEGGED for God to heal her, He decided to heal her in a different way.
My mom’s faith was secure. She did not have any regrets in life. She was steadfast in her hope in the Lord. She had peace. She loved God. And she was ready to be with Him when He was ready for her.
Unfortunately, He was ready before I could ever be.
God forbid I ever have this horrible disease. But if I do, I have an amazing example of someone who lived with grace, love, and hope during the hardest time of her life.
Thank you, mom for loving God and trusting Him with your life. I have a lot to live up to.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Potty training and missing my mom
It's hard for me to believe that last week marked a month since my mom has been gone. People who have lost a parent too have told me that it will always seem like they just lost their mom or dad. Sometimes I just long to hear her voice again and have a conversation with her about nothing in particular. Sometimes I just want to call her cell phone and leave a message for her just to feel like she's still here.
But reality is hard.
It was especially hard last week when my babies hit two big milestones. And I just wanted to call her like I normally would and tell her the updates. She would always be so happy and excited for them. Just last week Jericho technically started to potty train himself. I've heard of kids doing that before, but I never believed it. He is 2 1/2 and I know a lot of boys that are potty trained already. My mom would always tell me, "Potty train him, it's easy." My response was always, "No, we have too much going on, it's too hard."
I would do all the things that people tell you to do to get them ready for peeing in the big boy toilet. Jericho watches his daddy go pee pee, he watches the potty training Elmo video, he has a toddler toilet that he sits on while he's watching the Elmo pee pee DVD, and I would always ask him, "Jericho, wanna pee pee in the big boy toilet?"
Until last Tuesday the answer was always, "No, mommy." I would never push him. I just figured when he was ready he would let me know. Really, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything, our move back to LA; James having a new job, having Karis, and mom being sick, that potty training was the last thing I wanted to worry about. But last Tuesday morning was a little different that usual mornings. Jericho usually comes running into my room and yells at the top of his lungs, "Mommy, wake up! Mommy, get out of bed!" And this morning he said, "Mommy, Jericho go pee pee in the big toilet." I jumped up and we ran to the toilet. Jericho officially pee peed in the big toilet. I know this is so silly to be so excited about, but you don't know my mom. She would be doing cartwheels with me if she could. I wanted to be able to tell her this huge event in our lives, and I couldn't.
Last week, Karis started standing on her own. As a mommy these milestones are huge. And I just wanted MY mommy to be able to celebrate with me and be excited with me too. I know at this point there are going to be many milestones that I will miss my mom being a part of. I will miss her for the huge ones, kindergarten graduation, Karis' first boyfriend, Jericho's first heartache, and the little one's like Jericho LOVING going to McDonalds with papa. But times like this, when I miss her so much, so much that sometimes it feels like it's hard to breathe, I need to remember the encouragement my sister received from her friend, Marc. Marc lost his dad unexpectedly, two months before we lost our mom.
-------------------------------
Hey Jenny,
No one deserves to lose someone close to them. It's definitely the hardest thing I've had to go through. It's important to remember every positive thing about the present and that everything truly happens for a reason. We could have lost them while we were growing up and may have never known them at all. There are so many other worse situations - always.
There's really nothing anyone can say to take the pain away. And it's not about getting "better." It's more like being able to live without her and coping. You've always been a bright, loving person and I'm sure she gave you nothing but love.
And keep living your life and pursuing your dreams. That's what she would want. :)
-------------------------------
When my sis shared his message with me, two things stood out, "There are so many other worse situations - always" and " keep living your life and pursuing your dreams. That's what she would want."
My mom would be upset at us for being so sad right now, especially because of missing her. She would want us to keep living life and pursuing our dreams. My mom was the most loving person I knew and she gave me, my sister, and my babies nothing but love.
I just wish she were here with me and sharing in all of it too.
This made me think, how do I want my kids to remember me and how I celebrated with them. What ways did or does your mom celebrate huge and little milestones with you, and how do you want to do this for your babies? Please comment and share your ideas!
But reality is hard.
It was especially hard last week when my babies hit two big milestones. And I just wanted to call her like I normally would and tell her the updates. She would always be so happy and excited for them. Just last week Jericho technically started to potty train himself. I've heard of kids doing that before, but I never believed it. He is 2 1/2 and I know a lot of boys that are potty trained already. My mom would always tell me, "Potty train him, it's easy." My response was always, "No, we have too much going on, it's too hard."
I would do all the things that people tell you to do to get them ready for peeing in the big boy toilet. Jericho watches his daddy go pee pee, he watches the potty training Elmo video, he has a toddler toilet that he sits on while he's watching the Elmo pee pee DVD, and I would always ask him, "Jericho, wanna pee pee in the big boy toilet?"
Until last Tuesday the answer was always, "No, mommy." I would never push him. I just figured when he was ready he would let me know. Really, I've just been so overwhelmed with everything, our move back to LA; James having a new job, having Karis, and mom being sick, that potty training was the last thing I wanted to worry about. But last Tuesday morning was a little different that usual mornings. Jericho usually comes running into my room and yells at the top of his lungs, "Mommy, wake up! Mommy, get out of bed!" And this morning he said, "Mommy, Jericho go pee pee in the big toilet." I jumped up and we ran to the toilet. Jericho officially pee peed in the big toilet. I know this is so silly to be so excited about, but you don't know my mom. She would be doing cartwheels with me if she could. I wanted to be able to tell her this huge event in our lives, and I couldn't.
Last week, Karis started standing on her own. As a mommy these milestones are huge. And I just wanted MY mommy to be able to celebrate with me and be excited with me too. I know at this point there are going to be many milestones that I will miss my mom being a part of. I will miss her for the huge ones, kindergarten graduation, Karis' first boyfriend, Jericho's first heartache, and the little one's like Jericho LOVING going to McDonalds with papa. But times like this, when I miss her so much, so much that sometimes it feels like it's hard to breathe, I need to remember the encouragement my sister received from her friend, Marc. Marc lost his dad unexpectedly, two months before we lost our mom.
-------------------------------
Hey Jenny,
No one deserves to lose someone close to them. It's definitely the hardest thing I've had to go through. It's important to remember every positive thing about the present and that everything truly happens for a reason. We could have lost them while we were growing up and may have never known them at all. There are so many other worse situations - always.
There's really nothing anyone can say to take the pain away. And it's not about getting "better." It's more like being able to live without her and coping. You've always been a bright, loving person and I'm sure she gave you nothing but love.
And keep living your life and pursuing your dreams. That's what she would want. :)
-------------------------------
When my sis shared his message with me, two things stood out, "There are so many other worse situations - always" and " keep living your life and pursuing your dreams. That's what she would want."
My mom would be upset at us for being so sad right now, especially because of missing her. She would want us to keep living life and pursuing our dreams. My mom was the most loving person I knew and she gave me, my sister, and my babies nothing but love.
I just wish she were here with me and sharing in all of it too.
This made me think, how do I want my kids to remember me and how I celebrated with them. What ways did or does your mom celebrate huge and little milestones with you, and how do you want to do this for your babies? Please comment and share your ideas!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Is this awkward?!?
I was very hesitant to write my last blog post about asking the question, "How are you?" I didn't want it to come across that I was bitter or angry. Some people said that my blog was helpful because they really don't know what to say during times like this. Because of the post, I was able to have a couple of really deep and meaningful conversations. I didn't want people to think that I couldn't be asked how I was doing. Actually, it feels really good to talk about how I'm feeling, especially to people who are asking because they truly want to know and have the time to hear me out.
I've thought about the question a lot and have come to the conclusion that everyone has something they are sensitive to. Two people I love dearly told me that it was hard to hear, "At least they are in a better place," when they lost their loved one. For someone else it will be something else. We are all different, and we all deal with grief in different ways.
After I wrote the blog post and spoke to a couple of people that I trust, I realized that what I had a hard time with was when the question, "How are you?" was used as a filler, just something to say, to fill the spaces of awkwardness, without giving any time to really say how I was feeling. My cousin told me, "Kris, do you really think people ask the question and not care?" and then I realized too that it really depended on the person, our closeness, and how I was feeling at that moment. I know this is not very helpful, but this part is the truth. My cousin also told me that she never felt like I was closed with her, and I never have been, but we are really close, and I know that she loves me and supports me. She has gone through this sadness too with her best friend.
So, I mentioned that I had two really good conversations come out of that blog post. Even though I felt a little uneasy to write that last blog post, these two conversations made it worth it for me. Last week we found out that one of our aunts was diagnosed with cancer. Below is a conversation via text with my same cousin, Julie, mentioned above.
Julie: "I haven't spoken with my cousins yet. I'm kinda afraid too because I don't want to lose it over the phone."
Me: "Call your cousins. It will mean a lot to them to know you care. It's ok if you lose it. You love her and that means that world when your mom has cancer. Believe me."
Julie: "You have me so self conscious now about saying how are you...lol. Just talking to my cousins and I was trying so hard to not say how are you so I changed it up and said....how you doing....lol"
After I told my cousin I wanted to include our conversation in this blog post, she wasn't sure If she should remain anonymous and my response:
Me: "No, I think it's human, you don't want to make them feel sadder, but from my perspective being on the other side, it is so comforting to know how much my mom is loved and how I'm not the only one hurting. I've heard from many people that they try to be strong for me and try to give me my space, but the ones who have touched me the most have been the ones who have cried with me and have come to me with their sadness too."
Believe me, I know it's awkward. What do you say in horrible situations like this? How do you approach someone dealing with the hardest loss they've ever experienced? To me, it is better to say something to show you care, instead of not saying anything at all. If you are going to ask, "how are you?" make sure it is not asked in passing just because something needs to be said. The day my mom died, one of my other cousins (he is more like a brother to me), came up to me in tears, all choked up, and said to me, "I'm so sorry." And that was all I needed to hear to know that he loved her and loves me too.
Right after I posted the last blog post, I got a message from a dear friend of mine:
------------------------------------------
Kristine,
I've been wanting to call you for so long. You have been on my heart for such a long time and the Lord just keeps bringing up your name with everything that I have been hearing and going through.
Not sure if you saw but John's aunt is dying from cancer this week. We're going to say goodbye tonight and I just can't seem to keep it together. I've been crying on and off all day. Then I feel bad because it's not even my aunt who's passing and I have no right to feel as upset as I do. In essence it's a joyous thing as she's been battling this for 3 years and will soon be home with her Lord. Yet I think the thought that she's leaving behind her kids and a husband makes me so sad. I mean she was the glue for that family and I'm not sure how they will do without her.
But I think the thing I'M struggling with the most is what to say when we visit tonight. John is also at somewhat of a loss as to how to handle it. I feel awful and so selfish even talking to you about all this as I know you have your own grief to deal with but you're the only person I know who understands what we're all going through. I just wanted to let you know how timely your blog post today was and how much I appreciated it. It helped a lot.
Kate
My response:
I'm so sorry to hear about John's aunt. I did not know about it. Thank you for messaging me. My mom was the glue of our family too.
Do not feel bad about me, I've been meaning to tell you how much your Facebook post on my wall meant to me. Truly. Your words were so encouraging.
Tonight, give your uncle and cousins hugs. Just say you're sorry. Tell them all the wonderful memories of their mom and how you've learned from her how much she loves them. And yes, you have every right to be upset. She made a difference in your life and you love her. You feel sad for your cousins and your uncle. You're sad that your aunt has been fighting for so damn long and it sucks and it is not fair. Know that God is with her right now. Angels are singing to her and are waiting for her to join them in heaven.
Feel free to share my info with your cousins, my blog too. I am here for you and for them.
I am praying for all of you, and for your aunt. I pray that she is at peace and ready to meet her Savior.
I love you girl. Let me know what you need.
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A recurring theme right now for me is that, God truly works EVERYTHING out for His good. I hate that my mom is not physically here with me anymore, but He uses everything we go through to bring Him glory. When we go through trials and hardships, they would only be a waste if we didn't learn from them and use what we've learned to help others. No matter what your trial is right now, you can always use it to bless others. God works everything out for His good. Always.
I've thought about the question a lot and have come to the conclusion that everyone has something they are sensitive to. Two people I love dearly told me that it was hard to hear, "At least they are in a better place," when they lost their loved one. For someone else it will be something else. We are all different, and we all deal with grief in different ways.
After I wrote the blog post and spoke to a couple of people that I trust, I realized that what I had a hard time with was when the question, "How are you?" was used as a filler, just something to say, to fill the spaces of awkwardness, without giving any time to really say how I was feeling. My cousin told me, "Kris, do you really think people ask the question and not care?" and then I realized too that it really depended on the person, our closeness, and how I was feeling at that moment. I know this is not very helpful, but this part is the truth. My cousin also told me that she never felt like I was closed with her, and I never have been, but we are really close, and I know that she loves me and supports me. She has gone through this sadness too with her best friend.
So, I mentioned that I had two really good conversations come out of that blog post. Even though I felt a little uneasy to write that last blog post, these two conversations made it worth it for me. Last week we found out that one of our aunts was diagnosed with cancer. Below is a conversation via text with my same cousin, Julie, mentioned above.
Julie: "I haven't spoken with my cousins yet. I'm kinda afraid too because I don't want to lose it over the phone."
Me: "Call your cousins. It will mean a lot to them to know you care. It's ok if you lose it. You love her and that means that world when your mom has cancer. Believe me."
Julie: "You have me so self conscious now about saying how are you...lol. Just talking to my cousins and I was trying so hard to not say how are you so I changed it up and said....how you doing....lol"
After I told my cousin I wanted to include our conversation in this blog post, she wasn't sure If she should remain anonymous and my response:
Me: "No, I think it's human, you don't want to make them feel sadder, but from my perspective being on the other side, it is so comforting to know how much my mom is loved and how I'm not the only one hurting. I've heard from many people that they try to be strong for me and try to give me my space, but the ones who have touched me the most have been the ones who have cried with me and have come to me with their sadness too."
Believe me, I know it's awkward. What do you say in horrible situations like this? How do you approach someone dealing with the hardest loss they've ever experienced? To me, it is better to say something to show you care, instead of not saying anything at all. If you are going to ask, "how are you?" make sure it is not asked in passing just because something needs to be said. The day my mom died, one of my other cousins (he is more like a brother to me), came up to me in tears, all choked up, and said to me, "I'm so sorry." And that was all I needed to hear to know that he loved her and loves me too.
Right after I posted the last blog post, I got a message from a dear friend of mine:
------------------------------------------
Kristine,
I've been wanting to call you for so long. You have been on my heart for such a long time and the Lord just keeps bringing up your name with everything that I have been hearing and going through.
Not sure if you saw but John's aunt is dying from cancer this week. We're going to say goodbye tonight and I just can't seem to keep it together. I've been crying on and off all day. Then I feel bad because it's not even my aunt who's passing and I have no right to feel as upset as I do. In essence it's a joyous thing as she's been battling this for 3 years and will soon be home with her Lord. Yet I think the thought that she's leaving behind her kids and a husband makes me so sad. I mean she was the glue for that family and I'm not sure how they will do without her.
But I think the thing I'M struggling with the most is what to say when we visit tonight. John is also at somewhat of a loss as to how to handle it. I feel awful and so selfish even talking to you about all this as I know you have your own grief to deal with but you're the only person I know who understands what we're all going through. I just wanted to let you know how timely your blog post today was and how much I appreciated it. It helped a lot.
Kate
My response:
I'm so sorry to hear about John's aunt. I did not know about it. Thank you for messaging me. My mom was the glue of our family too.
Do not feel bad about me, I've been meaning to tell you how much your Facebook post on my wall meant to me. Truly. Your words were so encouraging.
Tonight, give your uncle and cousins hugs. Just say you're sorry. Tell them all the wonderful memories of their mom and how you've learned from her how much she loves them. And yes, you have every right to be upset. She made a difference in your life and you love her. You feel sad for your cousins and your uncle. You're sad that your aunt has been fighting for so damn long and it sucks and it is not fair. Know that God is with her right now. Angels are singing to her and are waiting for her to join them in heaven.
Feel free to share my info with your cousins, my blog too. I am here for you and for them.
I am praying for all of you, and for your aunt. I pray that she is at peace and ready to meet her Savior.
I love you girl. Let me know what you need.
------------------------------------------
A recurring theme right now for me is that, God truly works EVERYTHING out for His good. I hate that my mom is not physically here with me anymore, but He uses everything we go through to bring Him glory. When we go through trials and hardships, they would only be a waste if we didn't learn from them and use what we've learned to help others. No matter what your trial is right now, you can always use it to bless others. God works everything out for His good. Always.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
How are you?
Some people have told me they don’t know what to say during hard times like this. Because of this, I thought it would be good to write a little something about it. For me, it is better for someone to say something, than not to say anything at all. Something simple like, "I'm sorry about your mom" will not offend me, make me remember my loss, or make me feel sad. I wake up every day thinking about her and still everything around me reminds me of her. I miss my mom every second of the day. Nothing anyone can do or say can make me miss her more.
I know this sounds trite, but when I want to talk and share my feelings I will. Then you will wish you didn't ask because I have a lot to say:)
A hard question for me to answer is, "How are you?" How I really feel is that I wish this was just a terrible nightmare. I wish my mom was still alive. I wish that cancer didn't exist, and that she was still alive and cancer free. Just like everything else, getting married, having children, losing a parent, you just don't know what that really means until it happens to you.
One of my cousins asked me one day, “How are you?” We are really close; in fact we have had a secret name for each other since we were kids (ok, a really long time ago) We call each other our BCFs, Best Cousins Forever. I’m really not a closed person, but never have I experienced a loss or a hurt so deep, that I can barely talk about it. Losing my mom is one of those things. Because my cousin and I are so close I couldn’t give her the easy, “I’m doing good!” response. She would see right through that. But the truth is that it is really hard to verbalize how I’m really feeling, so I write. I told her if you want to really know how I’m feeling, read my blog. We got off the phone, and thirty minutes later she called me in tears.
I say all this because I never want anyone starting this journey or going through this journey to ever feel like they are alone, that no one understands, and that God doesn’t care. When you feel like no one understands, please know that I will support you, pray for you, and fight with you. During this horrible loss I have learned things that I could have never gotten a chance to learn any other way. This journey has made me more compassionate, more thankful for today, more in awe of God’s love through his people who have been loving me so well, and more aware of how great and powerful He is.
If you know someone going through having a loved one go through cancer or have lost someone to cancer, please share this blog with them. If something I have written makes you think about your relationship with your mom, sister, daughter, or someone else, share those too. Please share your thoughts with me and with others. The stories that have been shared with me already have really touched my heart. They really make a difference!
Please do not be afraid to talk to me about my mom. It feels good to talk about her. She is and always will be a huge part of my life.
I know this sounds trite, but when I want to talk and share my feelings I will. Then you will wish you didn't ask because I have a lot to say:)
A hard question for me to answer is, "How are you?" How I really feel is that I wish this was just a terrible nightmare. I wish my mom was still alive. I wish that cancer didn't exist, and that she was still alive and cancer free. Just like everything else, getting married, having children, losing a parent, you just don't know what that really means until it happens to you.
One of my cousins asked me one day, “How are you?” We are really close; in fact we have had a secret name for each other since we were kids (ok, a really long time ago) We call each other our BCFs, Best Cousins Forever. I’m really not a closed person, but never have I experienced a loss or a hurt so deep, that I can barely talk about it. Losing my mom is one of those things. Because my cousin and I are so close I couldn’t give her the easy, “I’m doing good!” response. She would see right through that. But the truth is that it is really hard to verbalize how I’m really feeling, so I write. I told her if you want to really know how I’m feeling, read my blog. We got off the phone, and thirty minutes later she called me in tears.
I say all this because I never want anyone starting this journey or going through this journey to ever feel like they are alone, that no one understands, and that God doesn’t care. When you feel like no one understands, please know that I will support you, pray for you, and fight with you. During this horrible loss I have learned things that I could have never gotten a chance to learn any other way. This journey has made me more compassionate, more thankful for today, more in awe of God’s love through his people who have been loving me so well, and more aware of how great and powerful He is.
If you know someone going through having a loved one go through cancer or have lost someone to cancer, please share this blog with them. If something I have written makes you think about your relationship with your mom, sister, daughter, or someone else, share those too. Please share your thoughts with me and with others. The stories that have been shared with me already have really touched my heart. They really make a difference!
Please do not be afraid to talk to me about my mom. It feels good to talk about her. She is and always will be a huge part of my life.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
“Life’s not about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about Learning To Dance In The Rain.”
Below is an email I wrote one of my best friends right after we found out that the eight months of chemo and radiation, surgery, and chemo again didn't work for mom. I was sad and afraid and I needed to hear words from someone who had traveled this road already.
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December 29, 2010
Hi best friend, so good to hear from you. I have been meaning to email you, but can't even get the words on paper. We found out two weeks ago that they suspect that mom didn't respond to the chemo and that it has spread. She has more tests on Monday to determine if indeed the cancer has spread and to what extent. We were devastated to hear the news. God's provision is that we are back here to be able to spend time with her and to be closer to her. At this point I am asking God for a miracle to heal her, and that we, especially mom will have peace. Cancer sucks so bad. I can't even talk about it. I have been so sad. I spend as much time with her as I can, but Jericho just got sick so we need to stay away from her for a while until he gets better. How do I keep enjoying her while I'm so sick thinking about how much longer I will have her? I need to enjoy her instead of worrying all the time and being sad, but it's so hard to find the balance. If you saw her right now, you would NEVER know she is sick. She looks great and is in great spirits, at least around me. Sorry to burden you with all of this. Please give me insight.
I hope you are doing good. Miss you and love you! Please give the kids hugs for me!
December 29, 2010
Kris,
I am so so sorry to hear this. It breaks my heart that you and your family have to endure this. I hate cancer too, it's horrible. It is so hard to enjoy them when you're constantly worrying about the time you have left. It's hard to have a normal life. It's an emotional roller coaster! I can't believe this is happening. :(
I absolutely know how hard it is to say the words out loud, to talk about it makes it seem so much more real. And at a time when you want it to be a dream, talking about it and making it more real isn't easy to do. Does that even make sense? Sorry....but, what I'm trying to say is that I'm here to talk. I wish I could be closer to be there for you. If you need me I'll talk a few days off and be there! I love you, I love your mom.
This quote may not help at all, but it always reminds me of my mom and it fits your situation when you said, "how do I keep enjoying her while I'm so sick thinking about how much longer I will have her"...Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass....it's about learning to dance in the rain."
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Today, I was sad. I was missing my mom, really feeling the pain of what life is going to look like without her. In the movies they make it look like the worst part is when they die. In my case, the worst part is when the realization really hits that it will be a long time until I get to see her beautiful face again. It is especially difficult when life is harder than I could have ever imagined and all I want to hear is that "it is going to be ok, God is taking care of it." The words only a mother can tell her child and make them really believe it. I was feeling her absence so deeply, especially today....and believe it or not, in almost 100 degree weather, in the dead of summer, it started to rain. I can't tell you how many times in this last month when God would remind me in amazing ways that, "it is going to be ok. He is taking care of it." As I was driving, with tears streaming down my face, all I could think about was the quote that my best friend told me about in December, the same quote I found on the piece of scratch paper that my mom wrote...“Life’s not about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about Learning To Dance In The Rain.”
So we pulled into the driveway, I got Jericho out of the car, and we danced. We danced in the rain. Through this horrible storm we can and we WILL dance.
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to DANCE..."
Ecclesiastes 3:1,2,4
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