Welcome Home

To the world's greatest and most treasured Mother, Grandmother and Great-Grandmother.

You are already so deeply missed.

'n aire do litrichean móra is sràcan

My First Home No. 2

It is 2:22 a.m. and I just got out of bed yelling ‘Fuck off. Oh my God my side. Fuck.’ I was up an hour ago and took some pills for my knees and had some popsicles. Now I am up and had some pills for my side. ‘Fuck.’

Spent the day at Mom’s and just basically watched her sleep and then went in one of Shelly’s rooms and slept myself.

Today the priest came and gave Mom the Last Rites. It actually was really beautiful. There was Joey, Gord, Doug, Liz, Peter, Suzie, Camille, Father Aubin, Mom (sleeping), Shelly, me, Nadalene, Taylor, Colette, Mickey, and I don’t even know who else was behind us.

Love is physical and you can feel it. Everyone is concerned for the other.

I’m watching the three youngest Joey rubbing Mom’s back, Shelly rubbing Mom’s feet, and Gerry rubbing Mom’s hands. They are going at it all at the same time but could be doing it one at a time as they are so focused and really are just them and our Mom.

Then Nathan and Angelique came. Nathan had bought red roses for Grandma which were beautiful and roses he had dropped off the day before for Jacquie and some he had also placed on Sheldon’s grave after cleaning it and so Jacquie was happy.

I went and had a sleep because I am exhausted.

Nadalene woke me up because Ben had built a ramp for his Mom and Jacquie was coming over and would be there in a few minutes. So Jacquie got to see Mom and even though Mom did not really wake to know Jacquie was there, the rest of us were thrilled. And funny thing is she did know because later in the night when Jacquie was gone she asked where Jacquie was gone.

My side right now is killing me. Christ already, I’ve done my bit and taken the pills – do yours already.

Funny tonight to see everybody order Chinese Food from the place that my parents have ordered from for over 40 years.

Gerry and Quin came in from Lethbridge on Friday.

We listen to Englebert Humperdink and Sidney Divine and all the Scottish music and other music that we all grew up on and that made me feel like crying the most. Seeing Mom who was so full of life and loved her music just kind of lying there and the music became like little stories to me. I saw thousands of life experiences with each little story.

Mom getting her head lovingly rubbed by Angelique, it was so puffy and I loved seeing my daughter rub my mother’s head.

On Saturday Jacquie and I were both so sick and I heard Mom had a horrible day too. I who should have been able to go see my Mom could not even keep awake. I threw up or I slept and I wished I was dead.

Jacquie is on her week of chemo and said that she was so tired and her stomach was so bad and she just couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Mom had a horrible day too.

Of the three of us I am the weakest because I want to quit the fastest. I’m tired of it all.

‘Oh my God, I am sick of this, my left side is killing me. I’m thirsty and I’m tired.’

Our family does not hold each other at a distance and view our problems as individual problems. Families do not walk away from each other. Your problems become our problems. This is simply the way our family works. Blood is thicker than water.

One of the grim realities ahead for us is that my Mom will die and she won’t be there anymore for any of us. We will live and she will die and we won’t have her in the present but only in the past.

But we will have each other. Families are there to stop us from having to be alone.

‘Where is the let up? Christ already.’

I remember reading Vonnegut where he stated that the reason everyone was so lonely and unhappy was that we had forgotten about extended families. That our families were shrinking and becoming more and more separated and independent and all of a sudden when part of the family goes then there is nothing left to fill the gap and that everyone would be happier if we just had bigger families. I think they may not need to be bigger but at least connected.

My parents were people that sparkled and whose eyes were full of hope. They transferred that hope to us. They were always willing to celebrate the ordinary and make us all feel worthwhile, no matter what it was we did.

It is 3:05 a.m. and I feel like shoving myself into the hospital. But I won’t, I think I can bear this and hopefully the pain will go away.

How are you doing over there Mom? How are you doing over there Jacquie?

My First Home

It is the real beginning of the real end.

My first home and an especial love of my life is leaving this world. It may take a few weeks or it may take a few days but how I am going to miss her; my Mom, the person who probably still cares the most for me in this world.

Angelique and Josephine and Domenic spent the day with Mom on Wednesday along with Mickey and Dwain and Taylor and they had a lovely time.

Angelique, Nadalene, and I spent the evening and we had a wonderful time and Mom was in good spirits. Mom kept saying how she would talk to Domenic and he would laugh and how happy that made her. And that little Josephine; of course full of life and love for great-grandma and how when Mom fell asleep; Josephine said ‘wake-up.’

But then Mom had to swallow some pills and that took a lot out of her. Fentanyl came in to play but it just didn’t help ease her breath or panic fast enough. It is hard to watch your mother struggle.

It was a very hard day for Jacquie yesterday as when I left her house with Colette and Wahid we went on to visit Mom and she had to stay home. Yes she phoned a few times and Mom rallied herself to say ‘Is that Jacquie, tell Jacquie not to worry.’ And Jacquie said she wouldn’t but of course she did.

Our family has always been a survival unit with our parents agreeing in all actions to care for us kids and for us kids agreeing (not in all actions) to take care of our parents. When I went to Shelly’s last night it was to a hard scene as Mom was disoriented. And at the same time it was beautiful to see her children all around her focused on her completely.

Harry was gone to get new medicine. Jeanine had been there all day and was talking to the nurses and getting all the information we needed. Suzie was upset and crying of course it is all so much. Mickey who has been there every day taking care of Mom while Shelly is at work was taking care of Mom and trying to help her. Colette and Joey were holding Mom’s hand and rubbing her back. Shelly was taking care of all Moms’ needs too and just putting herself out there. I sat back in a chair and watched.

When Mom settled I sat beside her and held her hand. She said ‘Who is that?’ I said “It is your Renee, Mom.” And Mom said ‘Oh my Renee.’

And how hard for us all that our mother whom we love and cherish above all others must face anguish and despair. She will endure pain and fear and suffering and she will fade before our eyes.

And yet we will hold her gaze in our hearts and in our prayers knowing that it would be disrespectful to avert our eyes even for a second. Our gift to her now is our undivided attention.

My mother’s wealth is her family. Mom is very proud of the bonds that her children have. And believe me, we have them. Mom would be the first to say that the wealth of her children could not be given a price and that she was proud of each and every one of us.

Shelly and Peter have set up a lovely room for Mom where she is so happy and comfortable. Where she says she eats like a queen. I will never forget that you have done this for Mom Shelly. Thank you.

We gather everyday now, we her adult children. We gather to her bedside which has become Holy Ground. You are our first home, our greatest champion.

I love you Mom. xoxoxo

Times Three No. 14

Hard times, hard times!

Imagine being a loving daughter who sees your Mom almost every day or at the minimum five out of seven days. And then you are dependent on Transit rides for your wheelchair to get you to and from the hospital so you can see your Mom.

Imagine being a loving daughter who wants to get that same Transit ride to the hospital everyday but you are on chemo that is making you terribly sick and are on pills that make your anxiety go through the roof. And then you are lucky if you get to see your Mom once every few weeks.

Imagine if that is the best mother in the world and she is dying and you can’t get to see her. Imagine that you felt the same way when your 25 year old son was a few floors below you at the same hospital you were in and you couldn’t get down to see him; not because of the Transit but because you were getting chemo and radiation and were sick as a dog and when you felt slightly better which you did everyday and went to see your boy it took everything to be able to get there and then you suffered for hours both physically; but mostly mentally.

Hard times, hard times!

Imagine that it is not easy for our darling Jacquie.

Jacquie whom when she gets to heaven God will say ‘well done,’ is not being well done too.

Jacquie feels like a lot of things are getting away from her and she is being left in the dust. Many of us with cancer feel this way especially when we are feeling super ill to boot. And just so you know it always feels especially personal.

Together strong Jacquie.

Our Warning

My Mom is dying. Is it better to say my Mom is very ill? If it is, it wouldn’t be right because that of itself is not quite true; as it is more than that. I must keep this real in my own language and state that my Mom is dying.

Boy how we all love our Mom, we, who are so fortunate to have the best mother in the world and I mean bar none. If you think you know how much we all love our Mom than you need to rethink it again.

Mom has been in and out of the hospital over the last six months with different chest problems that are mostly associated to her COPD. At one point they even thought she had the swine flu, which she did not.

My Mom has been in Riverview since before Christmas and has had many tests, one of which was a Mugga Scan that is showing that the arteries from the heart are very weak as they have had to work quite hard for her lungs.

Part of the problem as COPD advances is that the body goes into a panic that it cannot breathe. This is very hard on the heart. After the scan they started my Mom on fentanyl to help trick her brain into thinking she is breathing better so that she does not panic which makes her much weaker that much faster.

So now my Mom gets fentanyl before she eats, goes to the bathroom, sleeps, basically moves period.

There was a family meeting before Christmas and everyone in the city went. I just stayed with my Mom in her room as I had no interest in going to the meeting. For me it would just be the same of what I have heard for the last four years about myself. ‘She is dying; we don’t know how long; etc. etc.’

Mickey told me that the medication was what they give to people in their last stages of life.

Joey said there would be no warning and that when Mom dies, she will just seem to fall asleep. For some reason I was surprised.

Let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want more than all the world your return. ~~ Mary Jean Iron ~~

Shelly was over and we were talking about it and I thought I better clarify. I had thought that we would have time to gather around Mom. Shelly told me that she mentioned in the meeting that we were able to be there with our nephew Sheldon and our Dad at the end and would we have that opportunity. They said no, that we may not even know Mom died right away, we may be talking to her and she will take a breath and just pass away.

Even still I kept thinking maybe we would have a warning and I realized that the fentanyl is our warning. This is the last stages; this is our gathering time; this is our warning; this is our time to gather around.

Shelly and Jeanine are taking care of Mom’s needs and meeting with the doctors and staff. Shelly will be having my Mom come and live with her. Mom is so excited and we are all excited. We are all happy that our Mom will be in a loving home with a loving daughter and Mom will have most of her children able to come and help her.

Shelly and I were talking the other day and I was just saying what a blessing for Shelly. Of course, Jacquie or I would have taken Mom in our homes in a heartbeat had we been able too, but that is not the case; so Shelly is the lucky one.

I said to Shelly ‘Mom was there to usher you into the world Shelly and now you will be able to be there to usher her on her return from the world.’ Talk about full circle.

We all believe that my Mom will live until she dies because that is just how she does it. And as long as my Mom is comfortable I hope this dying takes a very long time.

*artwork by Kelly Vivanco

Welcome Home

Bernice died on Monday. The last time I saw Bernice was at Sandi’s funeral, and even though she was very sick she looked beautiful like she always does.

We laughed; she always would make me laugh. Big gold earrings were on those ears of hers of course and she was dressed to the nines.

Sally and I are the only two left from my original support group now that Bernice has died; many friends and many deaths. I loved you all and I always will.

Bernice you wanted to be met at the Gates of Heaven and I believe you will, not only by your parents whom you adored but our dear friends that have helped to lighten our heavy load.

Darlene
Judy
Ilona
Donna
Kris
Kathy
Lee
Cheryl
Pam
Helen
Carol
Sandi
Frances
Barb
Catherine

On Christmas Eve and Boxing Day I banged into Bernice’s husband at Riverview where my Mom still is and Bernice was. He said she wasn’t doing well but he would give her my love.

You wanted peace dear one and I hope that you have found it.

Goodnight dear friend.

Welcome Home

Darling Catherine you said in group a few weeks ago that if you only had five weeks left it would not be enough time but that you could live with the idea of maybe five months.

It wasn’t to be and I am sorry. Sorry for your small son and husband and sorry for you.

Welcome Home

One of my dear friends Sandy died.

It always seems so strange that you can sit on a chair beside someone and within a week they are dead.

Sandy is from my support group. Last Tuesday when I went to talk to Jacquie’s pharmacist I saw Sandy and went to go sit with her ‘Oh Hello’ she sang to me. We sat outside in the lounge for about ten minutes and her Mom and I and Sandy talked. She told me she was going to see the doctor about radiation.

Sandy told me that she was feeling alright, but that the skin would not heal and that she now had holes over her chest. Holes where the cancer had eaten through the skin. Then she went on to say ‘Enough about me how is Jacquie?’

Sandy had a passion for cats. Sandy took the feral cats from a field by her home and raised them up and got them proper homes. For Sandy, heaven won’t be heaven without some cats.

My dear Donna emailed me the following about Sandy and I want you to hear it too, just so you get a wee picture of a very wee lady with a tiny bun on her head, a wee lady with the biggest heart and the singiest ‘Oh Hello’ you could ever hear.

“I read the email about Sandy, beautiful lady. I saw her last Tuesday sitting in the lobby at Cancer Care waiting to go to radiation for the open sores on her chest. I noticed her right away and knew she was really ill. Her skin was gray and her breathing laboured. First thing I did was give her a kiss on her forehead as I had come up behind her. She looked up a little startled but her eyes lit up when she recognized who kissed her. ‘Oh Hello’ she said. We chatted for a bit. She decided she was going to head for radiation so I went to group. My memory of her will always include her voice. Oh Hello. Just because she sings it when she was happy.”

Goodnight dear friend.

Taking Care Of Business No. 2

Nathan is watching me climb out of a town car limousine at 1:00 on a Friday afternoon. He says ‘Who the heck dropped you off Mom?’ I tell him Lynette from Desjardins (the funeral home). He laughs and says ‘Oh God.’

Anyway, Friday afternoon I spent at Desjardins Funeral Home. I am always fine-tuning my funeral arrangements so that it will be less work for my family when the time comes.

This is my third time going as I went in May last year. I plan on making this an annual event just to fine-tune and also to get use to the place. The first year I went I felt choked, the second year it felt more like business and this year it felt like I was just renegotiating what I want in my living room with an interior decorator.

Although it is Nadalene who originally wanted me to set up my funeral, I really feel now that everyone should do it and honestly it is just something that needs to be done.

The funny thing is that the more I go and the more I know, the more I realize I can more or less do what I want. I also feel that at the time of my death Lynette will see me as a person not just a body.

I will share with you what went down this year.

Lynette and I go over all the details of what I want and switch up a few little things here and there. I tell her that I have bought a cemetery plot at St. Boniface Catholic Cemetery on Archibald and give her all the details. Tell her that I have also prepaid for the opening and closing of the plot.

We talk a little more about the urns and I tell her I want to check out the new ones they have this year as I am looking more for a box type.

We go down to the casket room again and I honestly don’t know why they have the caskets so crowded in that room. They are jam-packed with their quilted lining that gives me the creeps. I ask her if they have samples of the cardboard box that I want for cremation and she says no, just the wooden one for $740. The one I want is $15 and she tells me that it just is really a long cardboard box that looks similar to what a fridge would come in. I ask her if it has Kenmore stamped on the side and we both laugh.

The first year I thought I would want a niche in the wall and was told I couldn’t have a wooden urn because they dissolve and the cemetery doesn’t allow that. Last year I thought I would want a bio-degradable urn, but this year I decided against the bio-degradable as it looks like a white cotton cardboard box that you would take leftovers in from a restaurant and I don’t want that sitting in the church. It looks cheap when really it is more expensive than the wooden urns. I did like one wooden urn but am thinking I want to talk to the cemetery place and see if I just can’t have a nice wooden box that isn’t $500. I prefer what Karin made for her companion Zach.

I really like the idea of dust to dust; ashes to ashes.

I am only there for about an hour.

Costs of a funeral:

Arrangements: $840 (2007); $940 (2008 and 2009)

Transfer of body from hospital: $215 (2007); $265 (2008 and 2009)

Staff (four people): $495 (2007, 2008, and 2009)

Preparation for identification: $220 (2007 and 2008); $395 (2009). I ask why such a big hike and the answer was so lame that I don’t even remember it.

Basic facility: $295 (2007); $195 (2008 and 2009)

Cremation fee: $460 (2007); $485 (2008); $495 (2009)

Lead car (for priest, flowers, urn, etc): $125 (2007, 2008, 2009)

Limousine for family: $225 (2007, 2008, 2009)

Casket for cremation: $760 pressed board (2007); $15 for cardboard (2008 and 2009)

Urn: $760 for pewter (2007); $435 for bio-degradable (2008); $415 for wooden urn (2009)

*Memorial cards: $1.75 per card (2007 and 2008); $2.00 per card (2009) $600

Guest book, 50 thank you cards, and crucifix: $195 now no longer want from Desjardins and will buy on our own.

Luncheon sandwiches: $10 per person ($3,000) now no longer want from Desjardins, Mickey will get from that place in Steinbach.

Luncheon tea and coffee: $1.50 per person then $1.75 per person ($425) now no longer want from Desjardins, Mickey will get from that place in Steinbach.

Two hostesses: $250 now no longer want from Desjardins, Mickey will get from that place in Steinbach.

*Based on 300 people.

The funeral based on around 300 people attending would be about $4,165. Not including taxes, church costs, priest, death certificates, food and catering, other papers needed or cemetery costs.

After the meeting I ask Lynette to use the phone and she asks me if I am phoning to be picked up. When I tell her yes, she tells me she is going right by my place and can drop me off.

Just before exiting she tells me how great it is to see me again and how she is happy when she sees me. I tell her that I like to see her too, but hopefully if I see her before next year it will be socially and not business.

Some things I still know for sure:

Do not want to die at home.
Cremation cardboard box of $15 (do not upgrade this).
No public viewing.
Full Catholic Mass at Holy Family Church (incense and holy water).

I wrote this a week before Sheldon died; little did I know that I would be seeing Lynette again nine days later with Ben and Jennifer.

One Year Ago

My Dad died one year ago today. My nephew died 12 days ago today.

It’s funny that I have missed Sheldon more in the last 12 days then I have missed my Dad in the last 365.

And now I look at your picture Dad and the 365 days come crashing in.

Dad thank you for crossing over time and space to let Sheldon know that he would be with you and that he would not be alone. You always liked to do things in a big way.

I love you Dad and I especially miss you today.

Prayers for the dead are on the same footing as gifts for the living. The angel goes in to the dead with a tray of light, bearing a cloth of light, and says ‘This is a gift for your from your brother so-and-so, from your relative so-and-so.’ And he delights in it just as a living man rejoices in a gift.

~~ written by al-Ghazali ~~

Grieve With Us

Jacquie, Gilbert, and I did Sheldon’s obituary and it is in the Winnipeg Free Press today. Please read it and grieve with us that this most magical young man is no longer physically present in the world.

Sheldon Bouchard
May 31, 1984 – September 18, 2009

It is with deep sadness that we who loved him most announce the passing of our son and brother.

Remaining to forever cherish Sheldon’s memory are his parents Jacquie and Gilbert Bouchard; his siblings Ben (Chrisy) and Jennifer (Paul); nephews and nieces Brett, Jeff, Luke, Kayla, Grace, and Brady. He also leaves to mourn his grandmothers Daisy and Lil and his many aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Sheldon is predeceased by his grandfather Henri with whom he is currently sitting on a park bench with.

Sheldon had the best laugh you have ever heard. Sheldon loved to laugh and he loved to make others laugh. He was kind and polite and had a spirit that could make the galaxy look small.

Sheldon loved deeply, thought keenly, felt intensely and suffered beautifully. Sheldon showed us all what the true meaning of grace under fire meant.

A memorial service will be held on Friday, September 25, 2009 at 2:00 p.m. at Holy Family Parish on Archibald Road.

Private family reception to follow.

Welcome Home

Goodnight sweet prince. Rest in peace.

Happy Father's Day No. 2

To all of us that were lucky enough to have a wonderful father (I know that many weren’t) I hope that you get to spend some of your day with him; whether touching him physically or only with your mind.

I especially want to whisper on the wind a Happy Father’s Day to my own father. I got to breath with you last year Dad and I sure wish I could this year; but that is not to be.

I also want to wish a Happy Father’s Day to my husband Wahid, the father of my three children.

A few quotes in honour of fathers:

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. ~~ Ruth E. Renkel ~~

There’s something like a line of gold thread running through a man’s words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~~ John Gregory Brown ~~

Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. ~~ Anonymous ~~

Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later…that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~~ Tom Wolfe from The Bonfire of the Vanities ~~

*artwork by Polly Dunbar

I Sang To The Stars

My dear friend Bella lost her husband on Saturday. My thoughts are with you Bella.

Last night as I sang to the stars,
I realized they may be the souls of
former friends or of future children.

So, I sang louder and louder
and I thanked them for listening.

I heard their applause
and they thanked me for coming.
At the same time we both said
our ‘Your Welcomes,’

And as I watched them twinkle,
They watched me Shine…

~~ A Ship of Broken Hearts by Laura Duksta ~~

Memories

Today is the anniversary of the day that my parents got married. If my Dad had not died in September it would be their 64th anniversary.

Instead it is a day full of memories.

*artwork by Kathy Hare

Welcome Home

Rest in peace Carol.

Ring Around The Rosy

Honestly, I don’t know what is wrong with me. I am so emotional that I have been crying over the drop of a hat for several weeks now. Probably since I had that wicked flu and was throwing up non stop for days. It reminded me of everything that I try to forget.

I keep repeating my version of the nursery rhyme ‘Ring around the rosy, pocketful of cancer, hush-a hush-a, we all fall dead.’ Why I’m torturing myself I really don’t know.

Right now my back is killing me, so does that mean the cancer is on the move. Like my dear friend Pat says ‘You have a sore on your hand and you think it is leprosy. A headache and you think it is a brain tumor.’ Any ache and any pain is cancer in my mind.

Is this the time? Is the bullet from the gun that is aimed at my head going to hit me square this time?

It has been well documented, my relationship with the monster under the bed. But this is something different. I think I am suffering a personal malaise.

My tears do not belong to the family of boo hoo hoo, nor do they belong to the family of hoo hoo boo; rather they belong to the family of silent, eyes welling up, tears just falling off your chin in mourning.

My head floods with the images of the people I have known and loved. The slow inevitable decay as things got worse; the surprising speed with which it all ended. Like receiving needles, anticipation of the needle can be the worst, only in this case I know it isn’t the worst, it is only the beginning.

I was never given any guarantees. I take the optimistic side of all of my medical info. Not that it matters one little bit. Not that there is a single thing I can do about it. The sheer helplessness and impotence of the situation can be paralyzing.

Of waiting to be told that this will not end well. Getting an elbow to the ribs reminding you that they said it would not end well right from the beginning where it already was not going well. Reminding you not to be surprised, you have been told all along.

‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of cancer, hush-a hush-a we all fall dead.’

My soul and I have been talking and we think that because I love my family and my life so much I just can’t bear the thought of leaving them or it. My husband, my children, my granddaughter; it is too much to bear.

My family scene was set and all the characters were comfortably in place. A middle-aged couple hoping to retire one day with lots of grandchildren to remind them of their youth. Three adult children and one son-in-law with another son-in-law on the way. Two careers. A house. Extended families, friends, dreams, and aspirations.

There is just one other character yet to introduce. Crawling through a crack in the foundation, waiting in the wings offstage just behind the blinds by the air vent, smelling like cells gone haywire, and taking up residence in my right breast. The bad guy, the one with enough power to, at the very minimum, kill me and destroy everyone else too. There is no doubt that he will kill me one day, but destroy my family he will never do.

‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of cancer, hush-a hush-a we all fall dead.’

When I was first diagnosed I was devastated. Then I had treatments and was so sick that at certain points I didn’t really care anymore; as a matter of fact I sometimes wished that a stranger would creep up to my bedroom and blow my brains out. Then my chemo stopped because my heart needed a rest (in more ways than one) and I started to feel better.

And even though I have reached a place where the pain and side effects are more or less managed, who’s to say that they won’t show up again sooner than later, out of the blue, ready to pounce on me again because I have tricked myself into believing that I might be one of the lucky ones. Cancer is a tricky bastard and the universe is even a trickier bastard and who knows what the two of them might cook up.

This was always a losing battle. I always knew it was. It’s just that living without hope isn’t much of a life. It is a hard thing to fight when you know you’re not going to win.

My body, my mind, my emotions, they are all tied up in knots and braced against more pain and illness. I remember the illness. And I don’t know if I can live through that again.

‘Ring around the rosy, pocket full of cancer, hush-a hush-a we all fall dead.’

I was a child who grew up in a dream and became the woman who married the man with whom she had three children and raised them in the dream too. I have always been more of a denial type of person; you know, pretend it’s not there and make it to the finish line.

I remember being one of many sisters, but now I am the one sister. The sister that is dying while the others are not. The sister that was, and will be again, stuck in a bed while the many sisters can get up and walk away. I remember clearly the distancing between me, sick as a dog on the couch, and the others sitting close by. Close by, but never ever close enough to know.

‘Ring around the rosy pocket full of cancer, hush-a hush-a we all fall dead.’

I must comfort myself with what I have always comforted myself with ‘words.’ Thank you Francis Bacon for these:

Begin
doing what
you want to do now.
We are not living in eternity.
We have only this moment, sparkling
like a star in our hand –
and melting like a
snowflake.

I remind myself that partly cloudy is partly sunny and that here on this earth right now I have been given the opportunity to live with angels. This life here and now is good and the people I am able to share my life with are good. I have to believe that this time here will not be all there is because my soul will never be full of them. My soul will yearn for them always.

Maybe I am being morbid, but it’s really that when you have a terminal illness, well, that’s a time when you just can’t live for the future any more. This was and continues to be a huge burden for me. And sometimes I really don’t know how to be with it.

Roger Housden states “To be vulnerable to the mystery of our life as it presents itself, requires forgoing our hopes and fears for the future and being willing to taste what is here before us, in all its poignant bittersweetness.”

I am still here (thanks darling Jill). I need to show up and be present every day and maybe, just maybe that will be enough (but I don’t feel it will).

The words of ‘Ring around the rosy’ date back to the Great Plague of London in 1665 (bubonic plague). The symptoms of the plague included a rosy red rash in the shape of a ring on the skin (ring around the rosy). Pockets were filled with sweet smelling herbs or posies which were carried due to the belief that the disease was transmitted by bad smells. The term hush-a hush-a was really ashes, ashes which referred to the cremation of the dead.

2009

To all my dear ones gone before me; I will never forget you. My life is better because you were all in it.

What I wouldn't do now Dad for your New Years' Blessing.

To all my dear ones still here with me; Health and Happiness to all of you and to all of the people you love.

Happy New Year……

Interview With A Veteran

All days he is with me, and here today on Remembrance Day, I can state that I will never forget.

The picture is of my Dad when he was 17 years old. I can’t help but well up with tears because I love when I see a family face. I see all of my brothers in tiny little pieces, Harry, Dwain, Gerry and Joey. I love how in the family face I am getting glimpses big time of my nephews Jamie and Zac. Nathan and I laughed the other day when looking at this picture because he and I both always have our fists clenched just like that. Nadalene always screams ‘you guys are going to get arthritis.’ How the family face goes on and what a wonderful thing that is.

How many of you guys are with me when I think that Nana probably placed Dad's little cap on his head so jauntily just before they took the picture?

Probably about 10 years ago, I asked my Dad some questions about his time in the military. I had one of those question books about your life and your parents’ lives.

What made you decide to join the military? Were you drafted or was it a personal choice?

I joined the military for two reasons, the first was patriotism and the second was for adventure. It was a personal choice as I joined when I was 17 years old. As an appendix to why I decided to join the military was because I went to see the movie ‘Captains of the Clouds’ and the theme song was ‘We’re off to the big show.’ That movie made me want to join the Air Force.

Were you concerned about the world situation at that time?

Yes, I had grown up during the depression, so I was concerned more about people having jobs. At 17 years old the war seemed far away, while men being able to support their families were more of an immediate concern.

Were there other family members also in the military when you joined?

Yes, I had cousins in the military.

Where were you living when you joined the service?

My parents lived in Winnipeg, but I was working and living in Calgary, Alberta when I joined the service.

What branch did you join?

I joined the RCAF which stood for Royal Canadian Air Force. I said it stood for Really Caught and Fucked.

Where did you undergo your basic training? Was it tough?

I underwent my basic training in Manning Pool RCAF No. 2 in the old Brandon arena in Brandon, Manitoba. The training was strenuous. My training officer was Corporal Turecki and he was a tough miserable bastard.

Did you have any further training? If so, what?

I went to No. 3 RCAF Wireless School in Winnipeg, Manitoba. I was trained to be a gunner.

What was your area of expertise in the military?

I was a gunner in the planes.

What rank did you hold?

I held the rank of Leading Air Craftsman.

There are many things I know about my Dad’s time in the military, here are a few.

*He turned 18 the day he landed in England.

*He met the love of his life at a dancehall in Aberdeen, Scotland.

*He married the wee lass from Aberdeen within a month and after seeing her only three times.

*His first child (Harry) was born in Scotland.

If anyone can shed light on this one, go for it.

*I am not sure about this one, but I always thought he was shot in the leg during the war. Then I talked to him and I think he said shrapnel hit him. I talked to Shelly about this awhile ago and I can’t remember if she had a different version of it.

I always laugh at this story and honestly, I think it is true. When my Dad went for his physical and had to get checked there was a doctor and a few older soldiers along with other new soldiers getting checked out. He said the doctor looked at his penis and called the other soldiers to come take a look. They then said “Well here he is lads, God’s gift to women.”

Conversations Among The Dying

The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is not true. My good friend Darlene died one year ago today. You never forget and you never completely heal. Time heals nothing. Time passes and that is it.

With the anniversary of Darlene’s death come the memories of my other dear friends who died: Jill, Helen, and Angie. It isn’t easy to lose people that you grow to love, just as it isn’t easy to know that they died of what you will die of and that in the end it comes very quickly and sometimes without having the loving relationships you would like because egos (either yours or theirs) get in the way.

Darlene’s best friend Sally and I were discussing Darlene and how much we miss her and how much we love Marcie and Travis and how we can’t even describe how sad we are for them. Sally said about cancer and Darlene dying that ‘It is all torture, just different forms of it.’

Today, one year later, I remember opening my Facebook and reading the only message Darlene had ever sent me on Facebook and it was posted on November 2, 2007:

*Hi Renee. I love you and think of you all the time. I’m starting chemo on Monday, Docitaxel and Gymsidabean? They’re giving me Kytril so I guess I’ll be sick, not looking forward to that. Got a PICC line today and they drained my stomach and got 6.6 liters off my stomach. They put a steroid after the drain hoping that will keep it down longer than two days. Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you earlier. Don’t know if I’ll see you Tuesday, hope so. Lots of luv Dar XO

I replied with the following:

*6.6 liters are you kidding me. Oh my God.

*Can I come and see you, just let me know. I can come and spend some of the day. I love you. I just reminded Marcie about our lunch next week. You might be having chemo then though. Darlene, Taxotere really did wonders for me. I want the same for you. Hurry and let this be a terrible memory.

*Sally told me yesterday in group that you fell and are black and blue. Darlene, what next?

The phone rings, it is Irene and she proceeds to tell me that she has bad news ‘Darlene just died.’ I said ‘Darlene who?’ She says ‘well Darlene.’ I say ‘My Darlene?’ She says ‘yes.’

I can’t believe it; I just talked to her yesterday. I believe it, and at the same time, I don’t. I feel like somebody just ripped my heart out of my forehead.

Marcie calls me and tells me her Mom is dead and could I come over. There are no words to say to a daughter who just lost the most important person in her life. I go over and see Marcie and Travis and I have no words.

Today, I think of all the things that Darlene, Jill, Helen, and Angie have done to stay alive so that they could spend more time with their children. I think of all the things that I do and Sally, Donna, Carol, Bernice, etc. do to get another day. And with all of the things that we do and go through there is still no reassurance that we can keep the devil at bay.

It is inevitable for us, for all of us really, that no matter how we plan, dose, medicate, radiate, recuperate, and then get more chemo that we can keep death at bay and our bodies bouncing back.

We have been marked and so sometimes all we can take from a day is the support and love that we give to each other. We of the mark, we who will miss out on our children’s lives before we should have too, we who understand the same language, we who miss the ones who have gone before.

I am going to give you a peek at some of Darlene’s emails to me, just so that you can get an essence of what a wonderful, caring, selfless person she was.

These emails are from February/06 to October/07.

*Just wanted to see how you’re doing and to let you know that I’m thinking about you lots (this was repeated on every email, I am not going to repeat it here). Did you go for the bone scan today, if so hope that all went well.

*I’ve got 4 more days of work practicum and than that’s it, I’m officially done school. I applied for a Clerk Typist II at CancerCare, it is a permanent part time position (she did get the job but was unable to take it as her cancer came back).

*Well time for bed. Renee please know that if there is something I can do or you want to get out for coffee just give me a ring. Write when you feel up to it okay. Take care; you’re always on my mind and in my prayers. Lots of luv Dar.

*I know you’re probably already gone for your treatments but I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be thinking of you my dear friend. Hope that all goes well for you and that you’re not sick after the treatment.

*I wish there was something that I could do for you. I remember I cried in the shower every night when I was first diagnosed. And I think I’m always thinking of the time that will be lost. It’s very hard times that we’re going through.

*Do you think that you’d feel like going out for breakfast sometime on the weekend? If you do I could be ready in an hours’ notice. Call if you feel up to it. Take care Renee and I’ll be thinking of you on Friday as I always do. If you ever need me to take you on a Friday please just call. I’ve got my parking pass so it won’t cost us a dime heehee. Thinking of you always my dear friend.

*I hope that you all had a nice Christmas, you’ve been on my mind lots. Renee, you are not going to believe this, my sweet children bought me a laptop computer for Christmas. I cried and cried. Dave has set it up for me and I love it so now when I’m too sore to sit at the desk I can have it on my lap. I’m going to call you today but if you don’t feel up to talking I totally understand.

*I saw Dr. Daenick yesterday and he is recommending surgery to take out the rib and nerves if they are damaged. He is referring me to Dr. Tan, I am so happy about this even though it means surgery.

*Everyone is excited for you GRANDMA!! Phone if you feel up to it, I’ll be home all day doing laundry.

*Hope that you are doing okay and are keeping warm; it is unreal out there isn’t it.

*I went to the surgeon last week and he told me that they could do the surgery but they couldn’t promise that would end the problem and that I could end up in more pain (it did help, but the pain was still incredible). I was upset with that and felt like I was back at the beginning. They suggest that I get a nerve block first (she did and it didn’t really help). What have you been up to, keeping warm I hope. How is Angelique feeling? Are you going to group on Tuesday, do you want to go with me? Talk soon, always thinking of you Renee.

*I have been thinking of you all week, how did the wedding go? Fantastic I hope. I know Nadalene would have looked beautiful. Can you please send some pictures when you can? I’m so sorry that I didn’t make it but I’m still not getting around too easily. I thought I’d be having cabin fever by now but I don’t really have any desire to go out at all.

*I hope that you had a nice Thanksgiving and are feeling okay. We had our dinner yesterday at Karen’s but my stomach is so big I couldn’t eat as much as I wanted to. Just wanted to let you know that I won’t be going to group tomorrow and Sally isn’t sure if she’s going or not. I went to emergency on Saturday I couldn’t take it anymore. They are supposed to drain my stomach tomorrow if the liver is okay. One of the counts was out on Saturday so they gave me some vitamin K and have stopped my needles to help so I sure hope it does. I think I’ll lose it if they can’t do it. I’ll miss you all tomorrow but I’ll be thinking of you all.

The following last email is from me to Darlene’s message above:

*Poor poor you. And I am complaining. I’m so sorry Darlene. I know my stomach hurts and is uncomfortable, but I know it isn’t like yours. I love you and am so sorry that you are going through this.

Who Darlene cared about more than anyone in this world were Marcie and Travis. All she wanted was for them to have people to support them and love them just as if she was here to do it herself. Unfortunately no one can love our children like their mothers do. We can all try but it isn’t good enough. Darlene had a quiet manner and was one of the bravest and selfless people I know. This quote describes Darlene to me at so many levels.

~~ The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next. Mignon McLaughlin ~~

When I get discouraged I go on mostly for my children, but sometimes because of friends like Darlene, Jill, Helen, and Angie. I go on because they would have given anything to be able to do so and that choice was taken from them. I choose to go on and honour them by living and loving, and at my best times being joyful and appreciating every single second that I have on this planet, because Darlene, Jill, Helen and Angie no longer can.

I am one of the marked, the unlucky, the one who has lost a very dear friend. And even that wouldn’t be so bad if Marcie and Travis did not have to lose a very dear mother. Darlene not being here is a big deal and it should be a big deal. Love and cherish the people in your life today because they may not be here tomorrow.