It Will Not Last Forever

I chat with a few people online. People who are traveling a similar journey, to the one that I've been on. People who are in the beginning, or middle, of this journey. And I can understand that overwhelming feeling, that they all have. That at any second, they will BREAK!

When you are in the beginning, you are sure, you can beat it. If you are the caregiver, you are certain that there will be a cure. You are the shining light, of the entire operation. You sing like a bluebird, just to let your loved one, it's going to be OK.

By the time you get to that middle stage, you are just hanging on. Many times, you just want to curl up in bed, and cry. You see, how fast your loved one, is fading away. But you are still trying to cheer them on. No matter how difficult it is. No matter how many tears, you shed. Or how many times, they take all their anger, out on you. You are still trying to hang onto...some hope.

I think a lot about this now. What a way, to start an "Inspirational Sunday" post. But it's the truth. Somewhere along the way, we all start to lose ourselves. We start to lose hope. And purpose. We are still our loved ones biggest cheerleaders. And advocates. Heck, don't mess with our sick loved one. We make Momma Lions, look like cute kittens.

But we lose ourselves. In the process. And we're sure, we are never going to be the same again. Truth is, we aren't. We will never be the same...as the pre-cancer, carefree people, we once were. No matter what happens, our lives have changed. Forever! And there is, no going back.

I say this, sitting on this side of the journey. Still healing. But totally raw. The cancer didn't just happen to my Dad. It happened to me. To my Mom. To our friends. And to our families. There will forever, be pieces that are missing. People that couldn't take it. And people, that have left our lives.

But beyond those outward parts, that are affected...we are forever changed. Forever! Nearly 13 months, after my Daddy's passing, I'm starting to gain back...some of my pre-cancer self. The sleep, is coming a little easier. I'm taking time, to exercise. And eat better. I find myself, caring a little more about what I wear. If my hair is combed. And every once in a while, I reach for my makeup.

Those are things, I didn't care about before. Like reading, watching a movie, or just sitting with my thoughts. Before, I couldn't even hear myself think. Or pray. Or just be. My entire mind, body, and soul...were on overdrive. Not just trying to help my Dad. But trying to survive. I completely lost touch, with all those things, that had once made me happy.

No matter what your outcome is...if your loved one survives...or goes with the Lord. You will be changed. Make it a positive change. I look back on my friends, who experienced this with their infant daughter. Their journey has been much longer. Nearly 10 years. And once a year, I still see the panic in their eyes. As their little girl, goes for her checkup. The cancer changes everyone.

What I'm here to tell you is, you will survive. As a caregiver. As a family member. As a friend. You will survive. It's a difficult journey. You will change. The world, will look different to you. You will learn what is truly important. You will stop tolerating all the crap in your life. You will change. Make it for the better.

If you would have asked me, 15 months ago...how I was. I would have told you "Fine." The reality is, I wasn't. I was trying not to drown. In the world around me, I was just trying to survive. Just trying to make sure, my Dad was OK. Not in pain. His needs being met. His healthcare in line. That he was doing good. I was drowning...

It's something, I would not have shared with anyone. It's something, I buried deep in my soul. It's something I'd cry about, at the bottom of the shower. I was not OK. I didn't know, how I'd survive another day.

13 months ago, I was a mess. Trying to keep everyone up. Talking to people. Being their cheerleaders. and support system. Making sure, they were OK. Meanwhile, my 32 year old self, couldn't comprehend what life would throw at me next. How would we survive this? What else could possibly happen?

The truth is, time is what I needed. As cliché as that sounds. I needed time. Time needed me. I needed to see what people around me, were really about. Were they there, for the right reasons? Were they people, I could count on? Were they weighing me down...or holding me up?

For a very long time, I've shouldered so much of this. So much pain, heartache, and suffering had happened in my lifetime. So very much! And along the way, it was the same people. Every single time, it was the same people.

When I finally made those choices, to walk away, it was freeing. It is, what I needed in my life. To walk away. To not feel that burden. That load. To feel like, I had to put on a "face," just to deal. Because that is what life had been...

These days, are still a challenge. But I find myself, dealing better. Dealing with emotions. Dealing with my grief. Dealing with...well everything. But it doesn't feel half as overwhelming, as it once did. The middle part of our journey, was the toughest part! By far, the toughest...and loneliest part.

I'm here to tell you, it won't last forever. It really won't. Take some time, for yourself. And for your loved one. Make the memories. Crawl into their hospital bed, with them. Hold them, when they are scared. Talk to them. Share stories. Make memories.

Life is too short. This journey, is too short. I know it doesn't feel like it now. But it is. I promise you. It feels like, it was a million years ago...for me. Not just 13 months ago. What I wouldn't give, for one more of those days. As completely overwhelming as they felt. As hopeless, as some days were. I'd give anything, for one more day with my Daddy. Just to hear his words, see his smile, and hold his hand.

It will not last forever. Cherish it, while you can. One day, you will wake up, and miss those days... ❤❤❤

A Heartbreaking Year

Today marks, one year, since we said goodbye to my Daddy. It's a tough day. Images of that day, flash through my head. I could give you, the play by play, of every detail. How I laid with my Dad, in bed, early in the morning. How he didn't want to be alone, all day long. How he ate, an entire container, of applesauce. How we just talked. And held hands.

My Dad was able to thank our nurse, Robin. It was his way, of saying goodbye. He appreciated everything she had done for him. It was the only goodbye, he said that day. My Dad had a visit, from his favorite little buddy, Jaelyn. And I saw the pain in his eyes, when he looked at her. Knowing, it was the last time. She was not afraid that day. Like she had been, over the last few days. They wanted to hug. They needed it. And it was heartbreaking.

I could tell you, about the look in his eyes. How he knew, he was going. And he didn't want people to know. How he kissed my Mom, when she left for work. And didn't really want her to go. But he also didn't want her, to see what was going to happen next. He loved my Mom so much, he didn't want her, to have to see him suffer.

I could tell you, about all of it. How we read the bible. And then, he got sick. How I beat the ambulance, by over a half an hour. To the hospital. And I'd later find out, they had pulled onto a side street, to try and revive my Daddy. They respected us both, so much, they didn't want me to see. They tried everything they could, to keep my Daddy alive.

The feeling of helplessness, I felt. The heartbreak. As I sat in the waiting room, alone. Making the plea, to everyone on Facebook, to just pray. Having to send my Mom, the message. That this time, was urgent. And having to walk into that ER room, and know, he was leaving me. That I would spend, the rest of my life, without my rock. My Daddy, was not going to see me get married. Or know my babies. There would be no more long talks, and silly smiles.

The feeling of emptiness, when my Mom would walk in the door. And see my Dad. How he couldn't breathe. The gurgling he was making. The panic in his eyes. And the heartbreak, every single time, he'd look at us. He didn't want to leave us. He loved us, so very much.

This time, the ER was a scary place. My Dad struggling, to breathe. The nurses running in and out of our room. Panicked. Trying to clear my Dad's airways. The alarms, going off, on all his machines. The panic, in every single person's eyes, that came into the room. Watching my Mom's heartbreak, through her eyes. Watching my Dad. I could see how scared he was, through his eyes.

It killed me, to know, I couldn't fix this. The doctors, could no longer help him. I knew this. And hearing the words, come out of the doctors mouths, didn't make it any easier. Watching my Mom, was beyond heartbreaking. For weeks, I'd known that this time was coming. For days, I could sense it. But my Mom, she was being hit, by all this news. All at once.

And that feeling, when his doctors came to talk to us. We all knew what was happening. There was nothing left to do. They had tried everything. It was my Dad's wishes. And they'd respected them. But there was nothing left to do. They could make him comfortable. But they assured us, he wouldn't make the night. It was time to call our family and friends.

I immediately walked out to the hall. Called our nurse, Robin. Who offered to come and stay with us, at our home. Then she realized the situation. And offered to help us, in any way that she could. I called and called, for our priest. I knew, my Dad wanted him there. I made calls to my aunts, uncles, friends, siblings, and so many family members. It was time, to say our goodbyes.

But when I think about today. And just how tough it is. How tough, this entire week has been, I remember my Dad's words. "Don't cry for me. Celebrate my life. Remember me, with a smile. Not tears. I'll always be with you. In your heart. I'll catch you when you fall. You'll never be alone. But don't cry. I hate to see you cry. Remember the happy times. All the love we have. All the time we shared. The memories we made. Make my life, have meaning. The struggles, were worth it. Remember me with a smile, not with tears."

And that's what I want to do. I want to remember his smile. The toothy grin, that I love so much! How even my Dad's eyes, would light up, when he smiled. That's what I want to remember. Not the details of that day. Not the heartbreak. And the helplessness, that I felt. Not watching, the doctors and nurses, for hours...trying to help him breathe.

If you want to read my Daddy's obituary, you can go here. But I wanted to share, more about the man, behind Love for Blue. I want to share some stories with you. About the man, I love. The man I call Daddy. And the man, who has shaped me, into the woman I am today.

My grandpa, past away in December 2013. And I was asked, to say his eulogy. Not something I ever imagined, that I would be doing. But I was close to my grandpa. And no one else, was able to get up there, and talk about him.

Little did I know, it would be something, that I'd need. To prepare me, for what would come, 15 months later. I'd be saying the eulogy, for my Dad's services. And I would need the experience, from my grandpa's services. I needed the experience, to be able, to do the most difficult thing in my life.

Actually, in October 2014, my Dad asked me to start writing it. Even he knew, no one else, would be able to get up there...and talk. To tell his story. To deliver his eulogy. And tell everyone, about his life. But I refused to do it. Pretty much like my grandma's request. Shortly after my grandpa's passing, she asked me to write hers. So she could read it. I just couldn't imagine it.

In reality, I tried. Many times, to write my Dad's eulogy. In fact, in the hospital, late at night...I'd pull my laptop out. No words would come. I could manage to make notes. About what I wanted to talk about. Notes about stories, I wanted to share. And notes, about songs I felt, told my Dad's story.

But that's as far, as I ever got. In December 2014, when my Dad was hospitalized, I remember opening those files again. Late at night. A day or so after Christmas. Trying to bring myself, to write something. Instead, I watched my parents sleep. In our hospital room, I just couldn't put those words, out there. It made our situation, too real.

Again, just a few weeks later, I'd attempt it. My Dad was hospitalized, over his birthday. And honestly, we just weren't sure if he'd make it. Actually, I'd already had a total breakdown, with one of his doctors. And the amazing Ms. Mary. My Mom and I, had already been summoned to a meeting with the Hospice Team. I knew what was coming. So did my Dad.

I think he knew, that I couldn't get the words out. Because it would make our situation, too real for me. We would talk about it, though.  He would tell me, what he wanted said. And told me, he'd leave the rest up to me. That was not quite, a month before his death. We would spend an entire night, laying in his hospital bed, crying. And talking.

And after my Dad's passing, it was the one thing, I struggled most with. I sat many times, in front of my laptop. Spent many nights, awake. Trying to get the words to come. Eventually, I let myself completely fall apart. One night, at 1AM. While my Mom slept. I sat in one of my Dad's school buses, and cried. And I wrote his eulogy.

Once the words started, they just couldn't stop. I was wrapped up, in one of my Daddy's old shirts. Sitting in his bus. Holding his rosary. And the words, just poured out of me. 10 pages later, I felt like his story was told. From his words. From his daughter's words. And through music.

On the Friday night, of my Dad's rosary, I needed some time, for myself. I excused myself, from the receiving line, 5 minutes before the services were to start. And I stood in the back of the church. Praying. Our favorite priest, would come back with me. And say a little prayer too. I felt like I was ready, to tell Blue's story.

After hearing Forever and Ever, Amen. I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure, that these words I'd written, were right. As I walked up to the podium, I decided, to talk from the heart. I had some notes, tucked away, behind the eulogy. And that is what I'd would go off of. I'd speak from the heart, about my Daddy.

The next morning, I planned to read his eulogy, I had prepared. At my Dad's funeral. Before my Dad's services started on Saturday morning, I checked in with everyone. I'd talk to the musicians. And I'd make sure our pallbearers were OK. I'd make sure the boutonnieres, were handed out. I'd talk with the funeral director. And our priest.

Lastly, I'd get our items together, that we were placing with my Daddy. The pictures my Mom and I, had picked out. The prayers, saints, and cards I'd picked out. And the notes, my Mom and I, had written to my Dad. Our family would line up, and we'd say our last goodbyes.

I'd let the tears, silently, roll down my cheeks. Not able, to hold them back any longer. And I'd hold my Daddy's hands, for the very last time. The hands that had worked so hard, to provide for me. The hands that had disciplined me, for years. And the hands, that have loved me, for my entire lifetime. I'd kiss my Daddy's forehead. And I  knew, those prepared words, once again were not right. Again, I'd speak from the heart. Knowing what my Dad wanted to be shared. I'd let my heart and soul, do the talking.

And I'd tuck those words away. I wouldn't share them, that day. My family wouldn't hear, the words, I'd cried over. My friends wouldn't get to hear the stories. But I'd find the strength, to post them on my blog. The blog, that was telling our story, as it was happening. In real time. I'd share my stories, with these people, that were following our story.

A year ago, I promised myself, and my Daddy...that I'd share those words. One day. When the time felt right. When I could share, what had come to me, that night. Over the next week, I'll be posting my Daddy's eulogy. Here. I'll be telling his story. Sharing my memories. And hopefully, inspiring you. Please come back and read it.

I've not shared these words, with any of my family or friends. Not even my Mom. The time, just didn't feel right. But now it does. And along with all of you...my Mom, our family, and our friends will get to hear the eulogy I had prepared. Thank you, for all of your support, love, and prayers. It really has meant so much to me. And has carried me, on the days I've struggled most. Today, marks one year. It doesn't make my heart, hurt any less. But it is a day that should be celebrated. Like my Daddy's life, should be celebrated. It is, what he wanted.

This blog, is written, by a real person. By a woman, that has walked a tough journey, with her Daddy. We didn't win, against the beast, known as Colon Cancer. But I promised my Dad a lot, during his last few months. And one of those things was, to share our story. As tough as it may be. As many tears, as I shed, while writing some of these posts. I don't want our journey, and story, to go without sharing.

As much as I want to be your cheerleader, through your dark days. I also want to share, our toughest and darkest days. To let you know, you are not alone. There are others that came before you. There will be more, that come after you. And this journey, has changed me as a person. I want you to know, about the good days. And how chemo and radiation, gave us a little more time. And I want to share, this part of our story, as well. The part, that makes tears well up, in my eyes. That makes me feel like a 3 year old, little girl once more. I want you to know, we have tough days too.

Many people, going through this journey, will eventually find themselves here. At this part of the journey. It's why, we are trying so hard, to fundraise. We want to find a cure. To help another family, avoid this heartbreak. Until that time, I want people to know, death doesn't always have to be a horrible experience. It's not the end. And our loved ones, really have gone to a better place...with the Lord.

I'd give anything, to still have my Daddy. Really, I would! But I don't want his pain and suffering, to be minimized. To be forgotten. That every single thing he went through, wasn't in vain. That there was a purpose, behind his struggles. And more than anything, I want to help people realize, grief doesn't have to be a bad thing. Tears shouldn't be hidden. More than anything, our loved ones, deserve to be celebrated. And today, that is what I'll be doing. Celebrating the life my Daddy lived. The life he gave everything too. And lived, to it's fullest! I LOVE AND MISS YOU DADDY!

You see, my Daddy, was my life. He is the one person, that never judged me. That loved me, completely and unconditionally. And would have given anything, to see me succeed in life. What my Daddy didn't realize was, he was my role model, my hero, and my Superman. I learned more from his actions, than I will ever learn, from any other person. Or from any book.

From the time I was born, I was his morning glory. And he was my sunshine. I'd spend 31 years, taking care of my Daddy. After seizures. Through illness. And when the cancer, was finally found. He'd spend, his lifetime loving me.

During our time together, my Dad was my anchor. He encouraged every single thing I did. Music, education, cheerleading, crafts, and my life. He would push me, way outside my comfort zone. My Daddy would take me to school, every single day. And pick me up, in the afternoon. That time in his truck, was some of the most precious, we ever shared. It is where, we'd become best friends.

My Dad would ask about my day. He was completely interested, in what I was doing, learning, and who I was meeting...along the way. My Dad was encouraging. He was loving. And he was strict. My Dad would spend much more time, than most, in his truck. Taking me to violin lessons, music rehearsals, cheerleading practice, shopping for costumes, and just hanging out. My Dad, never really told me, that he loved me. But he showed me, in more ways, than I can count.

When I lost my Daddy, there was no goodbye. He never wanted to say those words. He told me that, the day he was diagnosed. It was that day, that I realized, how much I was losing. My Daddy, was much more than a father. He was my best friend. The person, I had leaned on, most in life. It was that night, that I realized how much, my Daddy had taught me.

So many people have asked me, "How did you do it? How did you take care of him, for so long? How are you doing it now?" And the only answer I can really give is, he loved me. And I loved him. My entire life, my Dad taught me, how important it is...to take care of "your people."

That is how I did it. I couldn't imagine, turning my back, on my best friend. The man, that worked until his hands bled. So he could provide me with a home, food, and my necessities. The same man, that worked from 3AM-9PM. So I could play the violin, go to Nationals, and have every single book...I ever wanted as a kid.

But it was more than that. It was the years, of cuddles. The strong hugs, when I'd had a bad day. The supportive talks, when I was struggling. It was afternoons, filled with laughter and smiles. It was the years and years, filled with my Dad, being my Dad. Bringing me a Happy Meal, to school, every single day...until I got to middle school. It was my Dad, spending countless hours, listening to my screeching violin. And encouraging it all. It was the countless games, that he found himself at. Because his daughter, was a cheerleader.

It was the 3AM calls. From a tired daughter, who was away at college. That he always started with singing, You Are My Sunshine. It was for the Daddy, who ALWAYS came to my rescue. For the man, who enjoyed spending countless hours, at McDonald's drinking coffee, eating nuggets, and talking.

I did it for the man, that gave his entire life, to me. Who made me feel, like the most important person, in the world. Just because I am Desiree. My Dad had a way of doing that. And we spent so much time together. Making so many memories. That I couldn't turn away.

And as much heartbreak, and heartache, as I've felt...I'd never do it any differently. I'd stand by his side, his decisions, and requests...a million times. My Dad, worked his entire life, for others. And this was the least, I could do for him. On the toughest of days, I'd remind myself, of the hours he spent working. In the dead of summer, his coveralls, covered in grease...providing for his family. Never too busy, to stop and answer my questions. To buy me an ice cream. Or to give me one, of those big bear hugs.

Since my Dad's death, I think back to my childhood. The years, when I'd sit, and just watch my Daddy. Bleeding hands, sweat pouring off his head, working so hard. And I know, without a doubt in my head, he loved me. The material goods that he provided, were nice. But that is not the important thing. It was the time, he spent with me. The memories we made. The stories we shared. The wisdom, he gave. And the security, that he always brought to my life. It was his kindness. And his love.

That's how, I got through the tough days. It was the love my Dad, had always shown me. The kindness. The tenderness. He shaped me, to be this woman. Never realizing, one day, I'd be taking care of him. That's the way life goes. We don't always understand it. And honestly, it can be difficult at times. But we make that full circle. And suddenly, everything falls into place.

This journey, has changed me, forever. But it didn't start, with a cancer diagnosis. It started, when I was born. With a man, that gave everything he had, to his family. He taught me, by example. He nurtured me. And gave me the strength, that I'd one day need.

Take the time, to love, those around you. To show them, how much, they really mean to you. Don't tell them with words. Show them with actions. Mold your children, into the people, you want to see in the world. Take the time, to make memories. And to be silly.

I never imagined, that at 31, I wouldn't have my Daddy. He would no longer, be at my side. But he is still teaching me, the lessons of the world. Showing me love. And making me a stronger woman. I don't have anyone, to take to McDonald's, for hours long talks. I don't have anyone to call at 3AM. Or anyone to watch wrestling with. No one to take to the Casino. Or to cut up apples for. I don't have anyone to talk about the world with. Or to help me, dream big dreams.

But I do have an angel. Watching over me. Every single day. Comforting me, when I need it most. I have a lifetime of memories. And a faith, that one day we will be reunited. I have an angel in Heaven, and I call him Daddy... ❤❤❤

Just Thankful

Around here, we are country music fans. BIG time! King George, has my Mom's heart. It's what we listen to. All the time. Without a doubt, in my heart. It helps make our little world, go round.

That being said, I was crushed to hear about Joey. And through the radio, I've been keeping up with Joey and Rory's story. Heartbreaking. Cancer has a way of doing that. Breaking people's hearts, dreams, and futures.

But their story, has been such an inspiration. One that has provided hope, on some of our darkest days. To hear, she is doing a little better, would make my broken heart, feel a little better. Truth of the matter is, I was hoping for a better ending to their story, than we had for ours.

When I signed onto Facebook today, I noticed all these posts about Joey and Rory. And my heart sunk. I found a link, and clicked on it. To be directed to Rory's blog. And his latest post. In the middle of the library, I sat and read it. And cried.

I cried for all kinds of reasons. These are good people. They shouldn't have to be going through this. No one should really. But these are good people. With such a beautiful love story. It kills me, to know a 40 year old woman, with so much life, is losing her battle.

As I read through the post, I could feel what Rory was going through. In a lot of ways. Grief has a way of doing that. Making a bond, between people, who have lived similar circumstances. And my heart just broke. Knowing what lies ahead, for this family. The emptiness, in your heart. The feeling of, not knowing what comes next. That feeling of, needing to take care of the person, who is longer with us. On earth.

But more than anything, I hurt for their daughter Indy. Just a little girl. 2 years old. And now, she is facing a life, without her mommy. I think about this, from a child's perspective. Because at the end of the day, I am a child. A daughter. That lost her Daddy. It doesn't matter, that I was nearly 32 years old. That I got nearly 30 more years, with my Daddy, than Indy got with her mommy. We both, have lost a parent to cancer.

I've tried to be brave. For a very long time. When my Dad first got sick. Later after his diagnosis. During the battle. When we lost my Dad. And now, in the aftermath. But honestly, I'm still a daughter. Having lost my Daddy. My best friend. The one person, that loved me, completely unconditionally.

It's a tough road. But I'm grateful. That I got nearly 32 years with my Daddy. I knew him. I got to know him even better, during those last few months. I have so many memories of him. And here is this little girl. Not completely understanding, what is happening. About to lose her mommy. They didn't have enough time together. To make memories. To love on each other. To be completely silly, just because...

That's the heartbreak of cancer. It takes you down roads, that you might not be ready to handle. It creates heartbreak. And loss. But it also makes you stronger. It teaches you, to push forward. And at the end of the day, you learn so much about life. About the little things, that for so long, you looked past. All of a sudden, they become important.

In the days following my Dad's death, I learned a lot. About myself. Others. The world. Things that maybe, I'd been too busy or tired for, in the past. All of a sudden, they meant something. I valued the birds chirping, the sun shining, and the gentle breeze.

I do hope, that in the future, Indy will experience these things. That she will have memories of her momma, to look back on. I hope she knows, she is not alone. That there are many people, walking a similar path. Feeling her heartbreak, and heartache. That get on their knees, and pray for her. The same way, they pray for their loved ones. And themselves.

When I say "Just Thankful." There is a lot, behind that. I'm thankful for the time with my Daddy. For the journey we walked together. Because he had cancer, we didn't let that dictate life. We made the best of it. But the journey, it did something for both of us. Made us more aware. More able to live. More willing to love.

I'm thankful, to have a voice. Here. To share our story. To hopefully inspire someone, out there. That they can do it. And to be able to continue with the work, my Dad was so passionate about. I'm thankful he taught me about "paying it forward," living life, and loving with every single part of your being.

32 years, doesn't seem like enough time. It never will be. But I've had more time with my Daddy, than some kids will have with theirs. I'm aware of that. And I also have a family, that has become my "soft place to land." They've been a great support, when I didn't think I had one.

I also have some of the very best friends, that any one person, could ask for. People that truly love and care about me. And my Mom. Friends, who took time out of their day, to send my Dad flowers, cards, stuffed animals, food, and other treats...when he was battling cancer. Friends, that would never let me fall. But who have allowed me the space, to grieve.

I'm thankful, for our dear Lord. Who regardless of my faults, loves me. Without any strings attached. He is my light. My salvation. My love. And I know, that my Lord, has been at my side. This entire journey. And when I just couldn't go any further, he is the one, that has carried me along. He knows my deepest secrets. My entire history. What I think, before I think it. And he loves me, just the same.

I am a very grateful woman. These life experiences have taught me, so much. Most importantly, to live life, to the fullest. To completely, without a doubt, love with everything I have. And to remember the important things. People, not objects. To spend time, with those I love.

There are still days, that I cry. I cry until I can barely breathe. My heart, feels like it will never be whole again. But I have no regrets. I tried my hardest. To keep our family together. To take care of my Daddy. The very best way I could. And to stay positive. Even with death, looming for as long as it did, I was hopeful.

Because that's the thing. When you love so deeply, you always think..."There is a possibility. There can be a cure. There can be a miracle." Your heart is hoping. All while your brain, knows the truth. Your soul, is just trying to get you, through your day. And you never let go of that hope, until the end. I hoped, against all odds, until my Daddy took his last breath.

My Dad spent months...in fact years...fighting to live. For his family. For my Mom. And for me. I know this. He fought, as hard as he could fight. For as long, as he could fight. There were times, when I would think...this could be it. And somehow, he'd pull out of it. A true miracle, of God. In the end, we knew. In our hearts. That the end was nearing.

Like a small child, I'd crawl into bed, with my Daddy. We'd just lay there. Holding each other. Knowing our days, were numbered. Never saying the words. But knowing, just the same. Yearning to spend, as much time together, as possible. Just the two of us. Because that's the bond we had. He was my hero. Always, and forever. And I was his baby girl.

 

For as much as my Daddy believed in me, I believed in him. 100%, 100% of the time! He lived his entire life, to the fullest. He did as much as he could, for as many as he could. He was a rock for his family, a soft spot to land, and a role model...for so many. In life. And now, in death.

And that, is what this journey, has taught me. Cancer is horrible. But it brings with it, so many blessings. That otherwise, you'd be too busy, to notice. For as difficult as this journey has been, I'd never walk away from it. This journey has taught me life lessons. And the important things in life. It has taught me, who I am. Deep in my heart. And my soul. I'm just thankful... ❤❤❤

Moving Forward

There are a lot of days, when even I, just want to say, "I'm done. I'm tired. I just don't want to go anymore."

Then I realize, life doesn't just end. We're all walking a tough road. Sometimes, it feels heavier, than it is. But we all have those struggles. We just need to remember, not to give up.

In the last 11 months, there have been many difficult days. But they didn't start on March 20, 2015. No. In fact, the difficult days, started years before. When we had no answers. When my Dad, was just mysteriously sick. Unable to walk. Sleeping. Sometimes, unable to communicate with us. We didn't have answers. Life just seemed a mystery.

Those were the tough days. When life was up in the air. When I'd worry, the absolute most. Because how can you devise a plan, when you don't know what you are up against?

And through it all, I had my Dad, motivating me. Telling me, we have to fight it. We have to move forward. We need to remember that.

I think about that a lot, these days. Either I become stronger, move forward, and continue his work...or I become a miserable person. I tell you this, because in the middle of his cancer battle...I needed to remind myself daily. Sometimes, hourly. Move forward. Get stronger. Keep fighting.

 

And that my friends, is what brings me here. I couldn't ever start to process my grief, if I didn't deal with it. It's not easy. I find myself crying, a lot. Sometimes without realizing it. Something triggers me. Just the other day, I sat in the library, watching this elderly lady. From afar, she reminded me of my Dad. The childlike man, he became, near the end. And I sat there crying, for well over an hour.

Until she left the library. And another kind lady, came to sit with me. To ask if I was OK. Because that's what happens. It hits, from out of nowhere. But you must deal with it. You have to stare it down. And say, "I'm never going to forget my loved one. But I need to become a stronger person. If not for them. For me. I need to be able, to function every single day."

I say this. And I've been where you are. I've been that person, that received that news. That felt like they had been punched in the gut. I still remember when my Dad was first diagnosed. And trying to stay strong. For everyone. And silently, falling apart. Feeling like, life was never going to be the same again.

And in reality, it wasn't. But if I would have stayed in that place, I would have never have been able, to be there for my Dad. I wouldn't have been able to take care of him. To meet his needs. To allow our relationship to grow. To love him. And to make memories.

 

I know, this entire battle can be tough. It is very tough. And scary. Sometimes, overwhelming. If you are the person battling cancer, remember you are tough. You can do this. You've got to "keep your head in the game." But you can do it. If you are the caregiver, you are strong. Much stronger, than you can imagine. Honestly, one day you will look back, and wonder where your strength came from. And how it got you, through all of your journey.

 

I still look back, and think, "How did I make it? How am I still functioning? Where did this strength come from?" Honestly, I don't think I'll ever completely understand that. But it's part of life. And your team, they will provide, so much strength. Honestly, I can't even begin to tell you. Our nurses, doctors, and other team members...were constant "Fountains of Strength," for me.

 

And if you are family and friends, don't doubt yourselves. Love hard. As hard as you can. If you have an idea to call, visit, take someone some food...do it. Do it all! Make those memories. Don't be afraid. You'll always appreciate the memories, later down the road.

 



When I first came across this quote, I immediately thought of my Dad. I printed it out. And I gave it to him. It's still in his wallet. He had been sick. And no one knew, what was wrong. It had been months. Many doctors, trips to the hospital, and countless tests.

The sicker he got, the more trips to the hospital, the more fear I had...the more I thought of these words. I'd end up printing this. And framing it. It traveled with us, many times, to and from the hospital.

And I look at it, for strength. Thinking to myself, if he can do it, so can I. There were times, when my Dad couldn't eat. Or walk. Sometimes talk. But he ALWAYS fought back. It showed me, to never give up. No matter the battle, we always have a way to fight back. ALWAYS!!!

I think of this a lot. Maybe it was the first time we went to our Support Group. Or when we first met, the team, that would carry us on our journey. Maybe it was the first time, we knew it was Stage 4 Colon Cancer. But life, had forever changed. I knew that, deep in my soul. And I had to embrace, the next chapter.

Life would forever change. The somewhat "simple" life we had. And we needed to appreciate it. We needed to acknowledge, that our new journey, was laid out for us. We had time with my Dad. And we needed to take advantage of it. All of it. The good, and the bad.

More than that, we needed to prepare, for what was up ahead. The struggle, of this journey. The heartbreak, that would lay ahead. And how we'd pick up the pieces, and continue to move forward. We had to remember all of this, while fighting the fight.

There is always life, after cancer. Sometimes, we are lucky. And our loved one, or us, beat the beast. Sometimes, we are facing life, without them. But our life will be, forever changed. Cancer has a way of doing that. We will all come out of this journey, changed. Stronger for sure. And maybe, with more questions, than answers. But for all of us, touched by cancer, we must remember...to keep moving forward. ❤❤❤

Happy Birthday Daddy Bird!

Today marks, my Daddy's 83rd birthday. Very different, from just a year ago. How quickly life changes. How fast, we can find ourselves, on a different path. Walking a completely different journey.

A year ago, I was quietly decorating my Dad's hospital room. I'd smuggled in decorations for days. Hid them in a drawer. And then I waited. Most of the night, as nurses came in and out of our room. I knew their schedule by heart. We'd been there for a few weeks.

And after his early morning check, I started decorating. Banners and streamers on the windows, boards, and walls. Even if we were in the hospital, I wanted my Daddy, to enjoy his birthday. When he woke up, and I saw his smile, and it was all worth it!

He would spend the remainder of the week, telling me, not to take them down. Excited every single time, a new person walked through his door. It was a little thing. But one, that meant so much to him.

I can sit here and tell you, all about his breakfast. His morning. Our first meeting, with the ladies from Hospice. I could tell you about his lunch. And how the entire crew, from the cafeteria sang him "Happy Birthday!" And how we both made out, with a chocolate shake.

I could tell you about the visitors. His dinner. The gifts we exchanged. And the ladies from the Palliative Team. The struggles we had, as the night came. And he got tired. I could sit here, and describe his entire day, in great detail.

But that was last year. It was a different time. It was a different state of mind. It was a different emotional feeling. This year is completely different. I've almost feared this day coming. I bought decorations for his grave. And silently, counted down the days.

It's a day to celebrate my Dad. To remember all the good times. With him. At his different birthday parties. Enjoying, his beloved Mariachis. It's a day to celebrate. And I must remember that. It's not a day, to be filled with tears. And sadness. And broken hearts.

I had a completely different poem picked out. About this being my Dad's 1st Birthday in Heaven. Something talking about loving and missing him. And just yesterday, I came across this. And knew, it was just right...



Daddy Bird,

I think about you often. Probably too much. If other people really knew. I love and miss you more, with each passing day. And my heart, it feels like it will never be the same. Like all those millions of pieces, will forever be jingling in my chest. Where once, I had so much love to give.

But Dad, you taught me to be strong. To push forward. And to never give up. It's been a tough road. One where I'm constantly, reaching for the phone. To call you. To hear your voice. I can swear, I can hear you calling at night. And in my dreams, I can still see your silly toothy grin.

They say it will get easier. With each passing day. But I'm not convinced. I'm just not sure, about a lot of things. I just know, that I'll never stop loving you. And I'll never stop, trying to protect, honor, and take care of you. You were my rock and my salvation. My one place to fall. My comfort, in this world. The only person that never judged me, turned me away, or hurt me.

On this day, I truly hope and pray, that you are celebrating. Having the time of your life, up there in Heaven. Enjoying our loved ones. Eating good food. And hopefully, there is a Mariachi or 2, to enjoy.

Happy Birthday Daddy! We all love and miss you. Much more, than you'll ever know. Life is just not the same, without you in it. But today is for celebration. Not tears. So I promise to celebrate you, with some cake. If you promise me, that you'll have a GREAT day! Happy Birthday!

                                                         Love You ALWAYS,
                                                                       Your Little Morning Glory



❤❤❤

Heartbroken

I just don't know, how to put into words, that my Daddy has gone to be with the Lord. We both knew the time was coming. He was the bravest man, I'll ever know. The kindest, most gentle person...you will ever know.

And now, starts the hard part. Life without him. I know he will always be in my heart. But my heart is so heavy right now. With pain. With hurt. With being shattered...into a million pieces. He was my world! And there is absolutely nothing, I wouldn't do for him.

For those of you, that would like to read more of his story, you can find it here. I'm not exactly sure, how to put into words, the great loss I feel. It feels like, I'm floating. That life isn't quite right.

But I do find comfort in, knowing his is with our Lord. That he is now safe. And resting. That he will never hurt again.

Please pray for my family, our friends, and of course my Daddy. The last few days, have been such a blur for me. And I pray, that I will find some peace, along the way. ❤❤❤