Suck it, Cancer

"Sit down." 

Ever notice how two words like that can send a tremor of fear right through you?  So, a couple of weeks ago when I came home from a nice evening out getting a pedicure with Sarah, and Jamie greeted my arrival with, "Sit down," I was unprepared, to say the least. 

And in my brain were things like the following: one of my grandparents died...then Jamie said, "Your mom called and your sister..." and my brain went to things like: my sister died, my sister was in a horrible car accident, wait...which sister are we talking about here...

...and he finished with, "...has Hodgkin's Lymphoma."  Oh.

Wait, what?  No one died? 

Okay, that's the good news.  But my sister has cancer...well, that just sucks.  Seriously...that was my first thought.  That sucks (how very educated and mature of me, but sometimes there just aren't better words).  And no kidding, my very next set of thoughts went to something like, "So, cancer bites the big one and I really wish my sister didn't have cancer, but in this family we've got cancer covered.  We're GOOD at cancer, so cancer...BRING. IT. ON. because you are soooo going to lose." 

Now, I don't mean to minimize cancer or the diagnosis of cancer...at all.  The "C" monster as my sister has started to refer to it is scary and life-altering and sometimes deadly.  But, I wasn't kidding when I really did think of it as something that was manageable and treatable and with an attitude of, "Okay...now what?"  I didn't freak out (other sister did, but that's okay, too) because, like my oh-so-wise sister has pointed out, our experience with cancer has been one of SURVIVAL.  Let me list the ways...

Mom - Breast cancer survivor, 17+ years
Grandma - Breast cancer survivor, 15 years
Jamie - Colon cancer survivor, 6+ years
Cheryl - Leukemia survivor, 12+ years
Gina - Breast cancer survivor, 4+ years
Susan - Multiple myeloma survivor, 6+ years

So, while cancer is a scary word and treatment is a long, arduous journey, I don't live in a world where cancer has won very often.  I live in a world where you do the next thing, take the next step and fight the battle in front of you because there is no alternative.  Cancer is terrible for the patient, and not too fun for those of us that love the patient because the overwhelming feeling is one of helplessness.  What can you do?  What do you do?  For some, they worry and stew.  I just come from a family where we just say..."Suck it, cancer." 

And then we move on. 

So, to my baby sister...just keep doing the next thing.  Know we love you mightily and ferociously... and remember that you always have a tribe in your corner.

Erica   

10 Things

I was recently perusing on Pinterest (http://www.pinterest.com/), which if you haven't discovered is GREAT! I can pretend that I actually have a decor gene - which I do NOT - because I am incredibly capable of following directions for someone else's great idea! I have successfully made numerous recipes, with mostly favorable reviews, and even knocked out some cleaning tips, decorating ideas and crafty things. Very proud of myself! So, as I was perusing tonight, I came across someone else's blog and it listed "30 Questions To Ask Each Other." And I began reading the list...and realized that it would be fun to answer some of them here. So, it is my goal to do some more frequent posting and use some of these questions as insipration...


Here's today's question: List 10 things you would tell your 16-year old self if you could.


Okay, I'm not sure I can come up with 10, but we'll see...

#1) It will all turn out okay - because at 16, who isn't worrying about the future? Who isn't freaked out about leaving home and going to college and just growing up.

#2) Trust yourself - I think I've been pretty good at this, but I wish I could have known that my own mind was good enough and staying true to myself will get me far in life.

#3) Take care of your health - Probably my single greatest wish for a "do-over!" It is SO much harder to create a healthy, fitness-minded lifestyle at 30-something than it would have been to just maintain it as a teenager and into adulthoood. Maybe not terribly realistic, but so. much. easier.

#4) You will find "the one." - Because in my mid-20s, as I went to wedding after wedding, and served as bridesmaid in SIX weddings, I was beginning to doubt this one. Wouldn't have traded the experiences I had along the way, but just knowing it was going to happen might have eased my mind.

#5) Making the effort to maintain relationships is worth it! - Because little did I know, but the best friends I had at 16 are still among the besties I have now. Distance or not, we've always remained a part of each other's lives. And I'm so, so glad.

#6) Live more and take more risks...within reason - Never a daredevil have I been, but I sincerely wish I wouldn't have been such a darn chicken about so many things. Following rules is fine, but it gets a little boring sometime to always be the one that's the "adult" in the room - even when we were 21. Another of my greatest wishes for a "do-over." Live a little more spontaneously...

#7) Life will sometimes suck...and you will be okay - Enough said.

#8) You will get to know your grandparents better - We always lived far away from my grandparents growing up...like states away. When I came to college 10 minutes from them, I got to have a relationship with them for the first time in my life. We grew up without Skype, cell phones or even e-mail, so I did not really know my grandparents well until I was an adult living near them. Even though my dad's parents have sinced passed away, I got to know my grandfather well and am grateful every day for the fact that my 88-year maternal grandparents are still alive, well, and living just minutes from me.

#9) Technology will change the way you live your life - Not sure this is such a good thing, but I don't think at 16 I had any comprehension of what technology was to come. Email, cell phones, the Internet, DVRs, Skype, SmartBoards, iPods, laptops, Facebook...the list is endless.

#10) Follow your heart - Because at the heart of it all, no one can make your decisions for you. At the end of the day, we all have to make our own decisions, own them and live with them. Ultimately, I have to sleep with myself at night and the choices I make. I never want to regret my path in life, so I think this is the most important one.

Well, I guess I could think of 10!

Erica

Reminders

Over the weekend, Jamie and I drove about 45 minutes north to a small community on the Mississippi River to participate in Eagle Days. Eagle Days is an effort by the Department of Conservation to educate people about the bald eagles that roost and nest along the rivers in the winter. We watched a movie about the bald eagle's near extinction, saw a live eagle program put on by the Wild Bird Sanctuary and watched the eagles fly over the river, hunting for fish. It was cold, but bearable, sunny and an almost-perfect way to spend a winter's day. And then Jamie's phone rang...

His cousin's son, only 21-years young, died unexpectedly in his sleep Friday night. No reason, no explanation, no discernible cause. Conversations of autopsies and 911 calls and the heartbreak of two parents...and innumerable aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, siblings, friends...

We were shocked. Tried to go about our day, keeping this young man and his family in our thoughts and prayers. We'd be talking about eagles one minute, exclaiming over the majestic sight it is to see them soaring above...and our conversation would suddenly shift, to conversation of Jesse, a life gone too quickly. It's safe to say that our thoughts were preoccupied by Jesse's death and the heartbreak of his parents. Because though we cannot know their pain or their circumstance, we know the pain of walking this earth when your child does not.

And so, many times throughout the day and into the evening, I found myself overcome with tears. Sad for a life cut short...sad for parents that will never be the same, that will miss their child until the day they die...sad at our own individual pain that never quite goes away.

Jesse...Kayla...Leah...Allison...Faith. Lives lost too soon, at various ages and stages, all leaving behind parents that are forced to figure out how to move forward when it feels as though the world around you has stopped moving. I know now that I will think about my child every day of my life. For the rest of my life. I have figured out how to move forward...how to honor her and remember her and how to be happy more than sad.

But, on days like these, those sad moments creep in because it so immediately puts you right back into that place of your own pain. Knowing how heart-wrenching it is to walk this path and continue on. It is a reminder of memories that haunt and hurt. And memories that bring smiles.

Though we did not know Jesse well, I will use this as a reminder to live life to the fullest because once again, the reminder exists that life has no guarantees. So if there is something you want to do, do it. If there is somewhere you want to go, go there. If there is someone you want to know, meet them. If there is something you want to be, be it. For life is short, without a guarantee and all too often, we are reminded of that too late for someone's son or daughter.

Erica

What I've Learned

As we begin a new year, I am reflecting on the past and looking to the future. I could wax poetic here about all the profound things I've learned. And truly, there are many...but that is a post for a different evening. Tonight, it's mostly about what my family has taught me.

What 2011 taught me...
1) Family matters - Forgive the cliche, but we spent New Year's weekend in Cincinnati with my family. We have grown to include my mom and dad, myself and the hubby, two sisters and their hubbies, another sister and her SO (significant other, since a man of 40 can't be called a "boyfriend" without cringing), and one adorable, gifted, and highly intelligent (I might be biased) niece and nephew. Seriously though, my almost-3-year old nephew has to be the most adorable, smartest child. Ever. Really.

What I so enjoyed about the weekend was the ebb and flow of it all. There were no expectations...no schedules...nothing we "had" to do. We celebrated a belated Christmas together and opened presents. There was hysterical laughter over gifts of Orange Slices (I think you had to be there) that led to veiled threats and secretly swiped pieces of candy for the next several hours.

The weekend included good natured ribbing from the previously mentioned SO, who is a SERIOUS sports fan, to my hubby, who likes to get as much as he gives. So, the SO wore a jersey of a team he loves that my hubby detests, coincidentally with our last name. It had the desired effect...laughter.

Wine was drunk (drank?)...anywhooo...lots of wine, and beer, and champagne. Pretty sure that the trash and recycling company for my parents are convinced that a bunch of drunks were spending the weekend there. Games were played. Puzzles were put together.

"Apples to Apples" was the game of choice for the weekend. If you've never played, a brief summary is to say that you basically predict what someone else will say. It's a fun, funny, ridiculous game. The best part is that as the game is played, the discussions over answers turns into a sort of courtroom drama! Everyone begins to defend their answers, and you hear the most ridiculous things. Examples include...

"The potato is an undervalued vegetable."
"Whipped cream is more creative than DaVinci?!"
"Spiders are more arrogant than lawyers."

These are seriously some of the conversations that were had...and we got hours and hours of laughter out of them. They will give us stories for years to come.

I got to watch the hubby and the SO bond over a puzzle...yes, sir. A nearly 35-year old and a 40-year old chatting over a puzzle, bonding, and frequently celebrating the sheer joy of finding that "just right" piece that fit in that incessantly difficult spot! I heard "Shanananaaaa..." in celebration more times that I can count.

2) Breaking tradition can be fun...We arrived in OH coincidentally on my parents' 39th wedding anniversary. So, breaking with tradition, my parents invited us (and one sister that lives in town) to join them for dinner in celebration. The other sisters weren't in town yet, but we got to enjoy a lovely dinner with my parents. My favorite part was asking my parents about 39 years of marriage. "What was your best decision?" "What was the decision you were most unsure of that turned out okay?" "What have you learned?" It was cool, invaluable, and reaffirming.

3) Time flies. I looked around at my family this weekend and saw a changed dynamic. My "baby" sister that used to go by "mini-me" because she looked so much like me now goes by a different title - Mommy. She is a mother to 2 beautiful children. An amazing mother - and married to a man that is a wonderful father. It is difficult to realize just how grown-up she is because to me, she will always be "mini-me." Also, realizing how grown-up she is just reminds me how old I am! : )

4) My sisters (and me) have chosen incredible life partners. I love all of the men that have walked into my life through my sisters. I enjoy their company, their values, their humor, their wit, and their patience. Patience, because coming into this family has to be a bit like walking into a den of wolves. We are fiercely close and we love loudly and without reservation. I think it took these men some time to adjust to our chaos. The noise is deafening sometimes...but so sweet. It was the noise of four sisters living in a house where "interrupting" was not really in our vocabulary. I often joke that if you didn't learn to just keep talking, you never got heard. It has changed from that sound to one of a different kind of family - different politics, different viewpoints, conservatives and liberals, sports fans and hunters, women - and men. Laughter, the clink of glasses, the cheers over a puzzle and the arguments over the creativity of whipped cream (you really had to be there) makes us a new family. One I love...one I cherish. So, to my family...I know that traveling and coordinating to be together is not always easy, but I am again reminded of how important it is. Because I know that when I'm 90, I will still remember days like the ones we just shared. And I'll still be able to tell you why a potato is an undervalued vegetable.

Erica

As I sit tonight, it has been a rough evening. I spent much of the evening on the phone with my mother. Who, God bless her, was the mother I love...she listened, she sympathized, she didn't try to "fix" what was wrong. Had some good thoughts...and all the while, just let me be. Even better...she even offered money. Who doesn't love that? Just kidding...

Seriously, I feel a bit as though I'm at a crossroads. I have felt like this for some time. Our life has not worked out the way we thought it would...we are not where we expected we would be. Somehow, around every corner we turn there seems to be some new hurdle. Some of those hurdles are small and easy, some are tall and difficult. Yet, they always seem to be there...and I am struggling with a few that seem to keep reappearing. They just will not disappear in my rearview mirror. Perhaps that is a sign that I need to address them in some way.

But, what do you do when it feels as though tackling those hurdles feels more like climbing a mountain? Never in my life have I felt more like climbing the mountain is easier than staying at the bottom, unhappy, unmoving. Never have I felt more like taking a leap of Faith, as scary as it is, might just be worth it...because nothing can be as bad as staying exactly where I am.

Now, I don't need everyone worrying...we are fine. I just feel as though there is this fork in the road...that it's been there staring me down for a long, long time, and it's finally right there, smack in front of me, forcing me to make a choice - this path or that one. In the past, that fork has seemed more inconsequential...in the distance, surreal. Tonight it feels like it's right there -right out in the middle of the road. And there's no going around it. So, how do you choose a path. I guess that's where Faith comes in.

Faith in my God...faith in my husband, in my family, in my friends, in myself...in my own abilities to take a leap that has no net.

I don't know exactly what that will look like...I don't know which path I will take, or what exactly awaits me on either one. But, for the first time in a long time, I feel like we might be able to move down one and tackle those hurdles. And at the very least, like maybe I'm ready for a new set of hurdles...even if I don't know what they look like quite yet. Maybe that's the lesson. Faith is, after all, all about believing in what you cannot see.

Erica

Easier

It seems that when someone experiences loss, people feel the need to say something that equates that loss to something in their own life. "I know how you feel," or "When I lost my (fill in the blank)..." I've had conversations with some people discussing the loss of a baby versus the loss of a grown child. How maybe it was easier for us...or for those with an adult child. Which way is easier? To have only three days of memories, as we did? Or to have 21 years of memories, as my dear friend Kathy did? Which is easier...years of Christmases to remember and be haunted by - or no Christmas pictures, no presents unwrapped...no memories to haunt us?

This is, without a doubt, the stupidest conversation I've ever heard.

Even with only three days of memories, we are still haunted. We are haunted by the "what ifs" of our life...what if we'd waited one more month to get pregnant? What if we'd chosen more medical interventions? What if we'd brought her home? What if my sisters had come to town to meet her? What if she was still here? What costume would I have dressed her in for Halloween? Would she have understood Halloween and Christmas this year? What if she had lived?

And my friend, Kathy...whose 21-year old daughter died just eleven weeks after an unpredictable cancer diagnosis. What haunts her? The pictures on her wall? The memories in her heart? The Christmases to come that Allison will never have? The wedding that will never be?

Who's to say which of us suffers more? And frankly, why in the world does it matter? We both grieve...we both mourn...we both love our children...we both think of them daily...and we both find a way to move forward, to find the beauty around us, to keep living the life we were blessed with. We live with more questions than answers. We have days that are good and days that aren't. We have moments that feel amazingly light and blessed...and moments that feel as though our legs have been taken out from underneath us.

We are the same.

My loss is not greater than hers. Hers is not greater than mine. They are not the same, but if there is one thing I have learned it is that no one can, or should, compare loss. It cannot be compared. It is, after all...incomparable. I cannot know her grief...she cannot know mine. I cannot know her ghosts...she cannot know mine. And that is the way that it is.

When we begin to assume that one loss is greater than another, we minimize what it is to that person. No one else can know how it feels to bury their child...unless they have. Even then, everyone's exeriences are their own.

It is a fallacy to believe that one loss is easier than another, especially when those losses are that of a child. I didn't lose Faith...I know right where she is. It's not where I'd choose her to be right now, and it's not where I'd imagined she'd be...but I am at peace with knowing that she's okay and waiting for me and her dad to one day join her. And knowing that there is a lovely young woman named Allison whose mother walks with me on this Earth makes today just a little bit easier...

Erica

Cardinal Nation

In 1995, I moved to St. Charles, MO for college. It's a western suburb, about 25 miles west of downtown St. Louis and the famous Arch. We had spent the previous three years living in Cairo, Egypt. Before that, we lived outside of Denver, CO. I had no idea I had just moved to a whole new world...Cardinal Nation.

I grew up watching the Denver Broncos and John Elway in his heyday. I learned about football from my mother. Not my father...he could have cared less about any sports at all. To this day, he would rather do just about anything than watch a football or baseball game. So, as a kid in Denver, I learned about the quarterback, off-sides, touchdowns and the "hail Mary" pass from my mother. To this day, I still really love watching football. However, when we lived in Denver, there was no professional baseball team. We went to one baseball game in Colorado...for the Denver Zephyrs. I still have no idea what a Zephyr actually is. It was a minor league team and I have a vague memory of it.

So, when I moved to St. Charles for college, I knew all about football. Not a whole lot about baseball. But, I was quickly introduced to the game because, little did I realize, I'd moved to a city that has a love affair with their baseball team. No kidding.

The St. Louis Cardinals have been in St. Louis for I don't know how many years, dating all the way back to the years of being the St. Louis Browns. When I first began college here, I don't remember caring all that much about baseball. Then Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa had their famous Home Run Race, in which McGwire beat out the home run record long held by Roger Maris. I vividly remembe sitting in my dorm room with my roommate, watching the game where he hit number 62. And I, too, fell in love. That was probably the moment I really felt like a resident of Cardinal Nation.

That home run race revived baseball after a strike several years before. And it truly introduced me to the Cardinals and the fact that, as my mother says, "Baseball is genetic...not geographic." My mother, who lives in Cincinnati, still roots for the Cardinals. Her older brother, who has lived in Houston for probably the last 40 years, still roots for and goes to Cardinals' games. Even if the games are in Houston.

Being a Cardinals' fan is inevitable if you live in this town...once it's in your blood, it's there for a lifetime. St. Louis baseball fans are known amongst the sports world as being the best baseball fans around. We have a friendly rivalry with the Chicago Cubs...we'll heckle you in the stands and buy you a beer after the game. Mostly because we know the Cards are a better team. : ) Just kidding. Sortive.

My point is that tonight I'm sitting in my living room with a glass of wine...watching the final game of the regular season. Number 162. As is often par for the course, the Cardinals have kept us watching, kept us biting our nails until the very last moment. In order to make the playoffs, we MUST win this game tonight. And we had to win last night. Which we did...by a lot. 13 to 6. It was fabulous! And tonight, we are leading this game 6 to 0. It's looking good for the St. Louis Cardinals. The other night, I watched the game and listened to all of the chants and cheers of, "Let's go Cardinals!" The applause, the cheers, the hollering, rooting on our Redbirds. The funny thing is, the game was in Houston, not St. Louis. It made me smile as I rememberd that baseball is genetic...not geographic.

For it doesn't matter where you live...once a Cardinal fan, always a Cardinal fan. I love fall...changing colors, falling leaves, cool temperatures. And baseball at its best. And I know that no matter how many addresses I have in my lifetime, I will always count Cardinal Nation among them. Go Cards!