Dear Mom...

Dear Mom –

5 years is a long time.   

At the one year mark, looking through photos, there wasn’t a huge difference in the kids.  But 5 years, 5 years you can definitely see significant changes in the kids.  Of course I have not aged at all!  ;)  Sadly, we will never get to watch you grow older than 59.  I guess that is one good thing, you will always be young in everyone’s memory. J 

As the anniversary approaches, I find myself going back to the caring bridge site as I think about those last days. I know I have mentioned it before, but I am so grateful for that site where I can go back and read what was happening during those eight months.  I did the same thing on the one year anniversary of your death and wrote:

This week has been especially painful.  Although like I said, I think about those last months/weeks a lot, the closer it is getting to the anniversary date the harder it is.  On Saturday I thought about how we had that party at Heather's house for everyone to get together to see you.  Unfortunately the cancer was taking over and you were having a hard time, especially managing the pain and staying awake. 

On Sunday I thought about how you were barely talking anymore and you were even worse than on Saturday.  I remember in the morning how the pastor had come over.  His intention was to give you communion, but you weren't able to stay awake long enough to receive it.  You were still in the bedroom, barely awake, so he came in to see you there.  It was me, you, dad and Pastor.  After he had prayed for a few minutes, dad had to leave because the Theda Care van pulled in with your hospital bed.  I can remember you curled in the fetal position on the bed and me kneeling on the bed, holding you.  As he was praying you said to me, "I am trying to come out of it."  I said, "I know..it's O.K."  I remember after the priest was done talking we prayed above you saying the Our Father and I can remember my tears falling on you as we stood above you as I said the words.  I remember saying to you afterwards, "I love you Mom" and you responding in a sleepy state, "I love you too."  It would be the last time you talked to me.

I remember the kids coming later that afternoon and kissing you good-bye for the last time.  That was so painful.  I wish I would have realized you could hear us and not treated you like you were sleeping.  I would have had them talk to you more.  We were at your house this past weekend and when we got back and the kids were in bed Sunday night, I sat at the kitchen table and cried my eyes out thinking about that day a year ago.  I went back to the Caring Bridge site and read some of the messages from that day.  How did we get so blessed with friends that cared enough to send us those messages and prayers!  Now a year later, how comforting they were to me.  Such kind words and wonderful prayers.

Then there is that Tuesday morning, the 10th of August that you passed away.  Those early morning hours when you were in pain.  I tried everything they told me to do on the phone and nothing was working so they were on their way to put in a morphine drip.  I was crushing pills between a spoon and putting them in your mouth trying to get them to soak into your cheeks.  I was putting liquid morphine into a dropper and putting that into your cheeks as well.  Nothing was soaking in and I can remember going to put the next hourly dose in and the previous hours worth of meds would still be there, resting in your cheeks.  You had such a high fever and I just didn't know what to do anymore.  I didn't want to lose you, but could remember begging God to come and take you because I couldn't stand to see you like this another minute.  I couldn't fix you and was actually scared I would kill you with all of the high doses of meds as stupid as that sounds. 

 I remember being shocked, mouth wide open shocked, when all of the sudden the groaning stopped and the extremely heavy breathing you had been doing for days stopped also.  You opened your eyes and I knew it was the end.  Rick went to get dad (who was on the phone because one of the machines stopped working) and got Heather and Jim out of bed.  Your eyes slowly came down like you had been looking up and I just stared, dumbfounded.  Once your eyes came into focus, you kept saying over and over...I..I...I...I...I..I and I knew you were trying to tell us one last time that you loved us. Of course these would be your last words, you told us this all the time.  You would manage to get an "L" out, and then go back to the I..I..I.  We all stood together and watched you slip away telling you how much we loved you.  I can remember looking around the room and seeing the tears on everyone's faces.  Devastated, yet relieved you were free.

 I remember being outside and letting the grief and anxiety of the last 12 hours out.  I was crying so hard that at one point I wondered where that sound was coming from and realized it was coming from me.  I can remember going back in to see you before they took you away and immediately realizing how cool your head was compared to minutes before from that awful fever.  I remember calling our friends and family and sobbing with them on the phone There are a hundred other memories from those last few days, but this is what comes to me now.

Although those parts of the caring bridge book I had printed make me sad, it always seems to help me get through this anniversary.  Going back and reading the messages from our friends and family helps enormously as well.  I bet you all didn’t know after 5 years, I would still be reading those message and finding comfort in them, so thank you.  Lexi had her first glimpse of the book about 6 months ago.  She had come across it and started reading some of the entries.  I let her read a few pages and then put it away, thinking maybe another year and then I would bring it out again.  I am glad she will get to read your story, how you fought like hell right until the end.

Speaking of Lexi, she is now a teenager! 

 

 I know…scary.  I hate to jinx myself, but I think she is going to be a much better teenager than I was in regards to getting in trouble.  I know what you are thinking, it is early yet, but one can only hope! J  She is still very active in sports and soon I think she is going to be taller than me.  She likes so many of the things you enjoyed the most about the outdoors- flowers, birds, etc. that I find myself thinking how much you two would have enjoyed growing older together and spending more time together.  She recently left for a week long camp this weekend (pic above) and she was so nervous.  Both of my kids, lucky for me, are very close to us and she was having a hard time not being able to reach out to us if she was homesick or scared because they weren’t able to take their phones.  I am sure she is having an awesome time meeting new people and staying busy with all of the activities.

Will turned 9 this summer. 

 

Hard to believe the baby of the family is going into 4^th grade.  He is really into sports as well.  He is pretty shy out on those courts/fields, but he tries his best.  He had a school project that he brought home one day this year and the title of the paper was, “My Most Prized Possessions”.  One of the things he listed was, “My grandson coin is precious to be because it reminds me of my grandma that died.”  So know that although he was only four when you left, he still remembers you often. 

I wanted to share a song that Amara Otto recorded and sang.  So beautiful.  Tracy sent it to me and I was in tears picturing Amara singing it to her Grandma Mary and relating it to our situation as well.  Hopefully the link works!

Since I wrote you last we had our big trip to Disney last September.  We sure do enjoy our family trips to Florida.  There isn’t anything quite like standing with the kids watching fireworks in this magical place.  Don’t get me wrong, with the crowds and the heat, we could kill each other at times too, we aren’t the Bradys like Heather likes to call us, but there are many moments during those vacations that make me grateful. 

 

In December we lost dad’s brother Uncle Jack.  He too had cancer.  It was hard to watch his kids go through what we did.  Although Jack was older than you at 78, no matter what age it is always hard to lose a parent. You just wish you could take the pain for them since you have already been through it.

This spring we also got bad news about dad.  He went in for his normal physical in the early part of winter and his PSA level was high. So he did further testing before Christmas.  I think he was lost in the system for awhile because it took forever and amen for them to get those results and then suggest a biopsy. I went with him to get the biopsy results and found out he tested positive for prostate cancer.  Although from all the reading I did about his PSA levels in the prostate I did in the months before we got the results I could feel it in my stomach he did have it, it still didn’t make it any easier to hear those words again, “I am sorry, but it is cancer” not even 5 years after losing you.  I was a little angry.  It isn’t even me and I know how I felt hearing it, not sure how it felt for him to hear those words.  You know dad, he had on his cop face, the one that says, “well, what are you going to do?” 

Dad prepped and ready for surgery.

I hate to say it, because I don’t want to down play it, but since we have been through the fast growing cancer with you and the appointments that were life or death results, hearing that his was slow growing was a little easier to take.  The cancer was treatable and for that we are grateful.  His options were radiation, having the prostate removed or just watching it (the surgeon didn’t recommend that option).  Dad opted to have it removed and in May Dad, Heather and I went down to the VA in Milwaukee for the surgery. That was an adventure in itself.  Ha Ha  Heather and I got stuck in kind of an older/crappy hotel, but it was really close to the VA, so at least we didn’t have to drive far.  We did however stack furniture in front of the door when we went to bed.  The surgery was successful for the most part, although at the first post op appointment they did have to let us know that after the pathologist read the results it was noted that a small part of the prostate was left behind, but she was fairly confident we shouldn’t be concerned and that it was probably destroyed during surgery.  It damn well better have been! Ugh, you go to get something removed, you hope they get the whole thing. They let him go early the next day, which proved to be a couple of long days for him in pain, but soon got better.  He did go down for his 3 month post op appointment though and his PSA levels came back at zero, so that is good.  Obviously without a prostate, anything above a zero is bad.  He feels good now, but some of the side effects of having to use the restroom all the time keep him at home. He even missed our family vacation to the cabin and several other get togethers.  The longer this goes on, the more I am beginning to wonder if he is just using this as an excuse to avoid the family get togethers! ;)

This spring the kids really like to ride the go-kart at dad’s house.  They rode it for hours and I could just see you cringing about your lawn being torn up.  There was a race track going all the way around the house. Ha ha  Dad also restored that little Kitty Kat snowmobile that Kal had when he was a little boy, so will got to ride that once before the snow disappeared as well.

 

Just getting in my yearly letter to let you know that we think of you often and that we are doing well.  Writing you these letters helps me heal and get through the anniversary.  When I start writing and going through the memorabilia, I get a good cry in, and then I am good to go. I think you just need it; at least that is how I cope.  Although there were some ups and downs this year, we still have a lot to be grateful for. I hope you are doing well in heaven and enjoying spending time with our friends and family that have gone before us. 

Please continue to watch over us and it would be great if you could show us a sign here and there that you are with us.  I don’t think I had one all year!  I miss those. Not sure if that is your way of saying you know we are O.K. and don’t need those anymore, but they are much appreciated.  I know Sally told me that you visited her again this year.  Obviously we have talked about how we see you as a hummingbird now and again at very appropriate times.  For Sally, it is every time she is going to plant flowers, and only on that day does she see that hummingbird. Last year the hummingbird came right into her garage and flew in front of her for a minute and this year the hummingbird sat looking at her in the window.  Just an FYI, I am going to see Therese Caputo again in October for mine and Jamie’s crazy girls day out and if you could come through, it would be pretty awesome.    

 

Love - Melissa