Treebywater

Grace, just thinking of you and hoping you know how very much loved you are here.

(((((Sue)))))

(((((Ann))))))

Lisa, I'm so sorry that your family is at this point. Let your Mom know that she is wrapped in all of our prayers. You are too.

She was tough, and no-nonsense, and yet soft and compassionate.... She made me think, and she challenged me to be a voice--for my Mom, for her, for Lung Cancer in general. I miss her a lot.

I don't have any answers to your questions, but I AM delighted for you and your Mom.

I'm so sorry.

((((Kim))))) So glad to see you post. Keep hanging in there.

(((((Grace)))))) This is what we're here for.

I'm just so sorry.

I am just crushed to read this.... You guys have been through so much, so fast... If you go with hospice, and have some choices in your area (I know some places there is only one available option), do investigate if you have time and resources to. Some hospices will continue somewhat agressive treatment while still helping with pain control and support for all of you. Others get pretty nit-picky about 'life-extending measures.' And if you *need* hospice, but feel your husband may be less than receptive to the idea emphasize the help you need--and that it can be used as a measure to give him a break for now. You can always sign off of it when he regains some strength. No matter what, we support you and your family. I just positively ache that you all are facing this. Wish I could give you a real hug.

((((Lilly))))) These things make me just want to hit somebody. As if you don't have ENOUGH to deal with. Keep us posted on what progresses. And hang in there.

((((Nick)))) Gosh I know.

Just so many (((((hugs)))))) and prayers to both of you. I'm so sorry you're at this point.

(((((Amy))))) I'm so sorry. There aren't any answers to those questions... We all ask them. It's just not fair. We're here to support you through this.

You say you think we will think it's stupid that you think you should be fine. I don't think any of us do. I think all of us wake up every single day and go, "Ok. I'm going to be fine today." And then as the day goes on we see if that's true. And if it's not, it's easy to beat ourselves up. You aren't stupid. In fact it's wonderful that you WANT to feel better. But... know that it's ok in the moments that you don't. In the moments that you aren't fine and you just feel like crumbling. That's ok too.

This is just so beautiful.

Grey's Anatomy and Lost

So I have been thinking of my grief as it is now. I have been thinking about how... Part of me is as present to the grief and missing of Mom as I ever was. I keep thinking about how... everything is different now. And today it occurred to me that maybe it's not only grief, but the fact that my Mom's illness, her death, the months after, the grieving.... they've all redefined my life. Totally. I am a new person. I am a different person than I was the day before my Mom was diagnosed. I am a different person than I was the day my Mom died. (Even as I am the "same old Val" I ever was). I know that part of grieving is re-inventing yourself... Learning to live in a world without someone who was so important to you and becoming you in a new way as a result. I don't know... Maybe I am just trying to justify the reasons that I still think of it so much. That it still occupies such a large part of my heart and mind, even though I try very hard to move forward and not let it rule my life. My Mom's illness and death were defining moments (months? years?) for me. Moments when everything was changed. Moments that made me look at life, myself, the world, God, and people around me in a whole new light. The fact is, it all changed my life. And I'm still learning who I am after the fact. I'm still in the middle of the changes. And I think *that* is what keeps me so mindful of it now. I feel like a new person that I'm not familiar with yet. My life feels like a new life that I'm not comfortable in yet--especially with impending family changes coming. A woman in my Bible Study shared today that after any major life transition: Death, divorce, birth of a child the "experts" (whoever they are) say it takes us three years to really adjust. So by that marking stick I'm only half-way into this adjustment period... Anyway. It's disjointed, but those are some of my thoughts today.... Do they make sense to anyone?

There are no words or magical cures that I could offer.... I didn't lose a husband... I lost my Mom, but at six months I was only scratching the surface of it really starting to hurt. It got a whole lot worse before it got any 'better.' Don't rush yourself to be 'ok.' You are grieving. I just ache at your post. I ache for your boys. I ache for you. I ache for how unexpectedly fast everything went for you and how blazingly unfair that is. I don't have any magic words, but I really, really do care.

Grace, I'm just so sorry.... Thank you for sharing with us these last days. And thank you for sharing Carlton with us too.

Still wrapping you in love from here, Grace.

Don, I just keep thinking about this post. Which is good, I think. And I think I've decided that my grief is better, but the loss isn't. Does that makes sense? I don't have to weep all the time and wallow in the fact that I miss my Mom..... but the void in my life is still terrible. I didn't think there was a distinction before. Now I am beginning to. So I guess it *is* getting better..... but I'm not ready to say that the loss is easier or better because I'm hesitant to allow others to think that the badness of her being gone is negated in any way. And I do have to make the choice to heal. And to be open to what this process is doing in me. Those are the choices I make, I think. I'll quit before I ramble too much.

(((((Grace)))))) I'm holding you all in love, care, and prayer.... Know that a part of all of us is there with you.

(((((Kasey)))))