Why Support Groups Matter

I have a few friends, who either have walked this journey not long ago, or who are in the middle of the journey. I get a lot of the same questions. Almost daily. How do you manage? Does it get easier? Really, what were your first days like?

 

My answer is always the same. I managed, because of support groups. This has been the toughest journey, I've ever walked. And most days, feel overwhelming. But the support groups, they help so much!

 

From the beginning of our journey, our medical team, recommended joining a support group. We were lucky, in that the hospital where my Dad got treatment, had an amazing Support Group. They'd welcome us, with open arms.

The day that we got a definite Stage 4 diagnosis, we were embraced. They called in, so many people to talk with us. To comfort us. And to lend a shoulder, to cry on. The man, that was in charge of the group at the time, came to speak with us. Two days later, we were sitting in the Support Group.

Once a week, for 6 weeks, they'd have a group meeting. Lunch was always included. No one ever felt, like they had to hold back. We had various speakers, come talk to us. Doctors, nurses, religious leaders, former patients, family...anyone associated with cancer. Then they'd open up the floor, for the patients, family, and caregivers to speak.

The people who attended our support group, were amazing! At your weakest point, they were there to support you. Embrace you in hugs. Give you words of encouragement. Give you advice. It truly, saved my Mom and I. Especially, in those early days.

My Dad wasn't too happy, about going to our support group. The day of the meetings, he was usually a little grumpy. I think we only got him there, because there was a free lunch involved. But after the first session, my Dad saw how important it was, for my Mom and I. And although he wasn't over the moon about going, he didn't give us a hard time, about attending.

There were some days, that were definitely tougher than others. Whenever morality would come up, my Dad would check out. He didn't want to hear about death. It wasn't something, he wanted to talk about. And when that would happen, I'd go sit with my Dad, outside the meeting.

Looking back now, I realize it had more to do with my Dad, processing what was happening. How his life, was nearing the end. And he wasn't ready to process that...not yet. But it was a helpful group. Many of the people that attended, had been through cancer before. They were entering, their second or third battle, with this disease.

We met some truly amazing people, in that group. One woman, still comes to mind. I think about her, at least once a week. And I wonder, how her journey ended. And if she ever found peace.

You see, this woman was just a few years older than me. In her mid-thirties. She was diagnosed with an incurable breast cancer. And only had months to live. She also had 2 very small boys. When we first met her, she was so angry. Angry at God, her doctors, life in general.

We'd go to group. And without a doubt, she'd sit next to me. Every week. Commenting on little things. Like she liked my nail polish. Or thought my hair looked nice in braids. Or did I catch the latest episode, of her favorite show. And after the first meeting, I tried to have little things for her. A bottle of nail polish, a candy bar, maybe a book I'd enjoyed.

By the end of our support group session, we had developed a friendship, of sorts. She'd tell me about her fears. Of having to leave her sons. And not having any family. What would happen to her babies? Why did the cancer happen to her? What was her life going to come to? She had lived a tough life. And this, just darkened it.

She would tell me, to share her story. One day, she wouldn't be here. And no one would know, what she'd been through. I at least, knew some of her story. The parts, that she was strong enough, to talk about. The things, that weighed the most, on her heart. It was really, a heartbreaking story. Of a young mother, scared for her babies.

Our sessions ended, in the summer. But we'd still manage to see people from our support group. Everyone attended doctors' appointments, chemo, and radiation in the same buildings. And from time to time, we'd see that same lady.

Like my Dad, she'd opted to try chemo. To extend her life. Even if, it was just by a few weeks. They both knew, there was no cure. But they wanted to live, as long as possible. My Dad was at his 4th or 5th session. My Mom had stepped out, to go grab us a snack. And there she sat. The woman, that wasn't much older than I. She sat crying. Crawled up, into a ball. In the chair next to my Dad.

He'd reach out to her. Grab her hand. And tell her, "You're not in this alone. If I can do it, so can you. It's not easy. We're not lucky. But we can do this. We can do this together! We're here for you." She would continue to cry. But she'd sit up. And look at my Dad. Stare into his eyes. "Do you think so?" It was a timid voice. Something you'd imagine from a frightened child.

My Dad would struggle to get out of his char. So many tubes, coming out of everywhere. He'd give her a hug. And would promise, to be there for her. And bravely, she'd call over to the nurse, so she could begin her treatment.

We'd see her, a few more times. In the chemo room. That would be, the only time, we'd sit next to each other. But from then on, she'd wave from across the room. Put on a smile. And write a little note, to my Dad. We'd usually get it, on our way out.

It's crazy, how even in chemo, my Dad was able to inspire, comfort, and encourage someone else. By the Fall, my Dad would be struggling. We'd be in and out of the hospital. Taking time off, from chemo. Trying radiation. And we wouldn't see her, anymore.

I always wonder, what happened to our friend. One night, in the hospital, my Dad thought he'd heard her. And we'd go visit his hospital neighbor. It was someone else. But even they'd strike up a friendship. And he'd provide this twenty something, with some inspiration.

I think about those people a lot. I'd wonder, how we would have dealt, with my Dad's illness, without that group. After my Dad's death, I'd be asked back. To talk about what I'd gone through. As a caregiver. How I was dealing, with losing my Dad. And just, how I got through the days.

Lots of people, thought I was crazy. Going back. To that group. To talk. To be supportive. I'd just lost my Dad. Had I healed enough? I don't know what the right answer was. But for me, it was the right time. It helped me, in my own healing.

Those people had been there for me. And my Mom. And my Dad...when he'd let them in. It was my time, to be there for them. And it truly helped me, to heal. To pick up the pieces, and start moving forward. These people knew my story, our journey, and what we'd been though. They were walking a similar road. And I didn't have to pretend, to be OK. I could cry. I could be real. I could just be...

 

Since my Dad's death, I've attended a couple of support groups. And coming from a caregiver, I would recommend a Survivor's Group. Or a group, just for Caregivers. I've seen the need for it. Personally. And from others, who have reached out to me.

If there was anything I could tell the people at Presbyterian, it would be to start a Caregiver or Survivor Support Group. It's needed. And would be a valuable asset, to so many. It's that "after care," that is necessary. For so many people.

Support Groups, are for people, walking similar journeys. It's a place, where you don't have to worry about explaining yourself. If you've walked a similar journey, you'll understand what I mean. How many times have you been frustrated by family and friends? That just don't get it. You explain, you give details, you provide updates...and no one seems to care.

Many times, the caregiver is expected to be the strong  one. Never crying. Or letting things get to you. Then one day, you feel yourself cracking....

That is what support groups are about. Finally dealing with all those things. The things no one wants to talk about. Or deal with. Or make real...

I found, that we got so much hope, from attending our support group. Not hope, in terms of a cure. But hope, that we would all be OK. That we could take care of my Dad. My Dad, got that hope too. That after he was gone, we'd have people, that understood our situation. That would comfort us. And help us, on our journey.

And at the end of the day, our support group provided so much of that. For all of us. They made us feel, like we mattered. Our journey mattered. Our struggles, were real. I want to be that, for someone else. That is why, I go back. Every single time, that they ask. I go back.

In fact, I'd be willing to start a Support Group for Survivors and Caregivers. It's so important. And with some help, I think it would be a success. It's something that would benefit so many! And I think it's something, that no one thinks about. Until they need it.

After my Dad's passing, I didn't find a Support Group right away. I heard something on the radio one day, and I turned to a group. That was based out of a church. And it, became my saving grace. A place, where I could deal with my grief. I didn't have to be strong. Or tough. Or the leader. I could just be.

It was roughly 6 months, after my Dad's passing. My Mom was back to work. And I could go alone. And just deal. Some days, were full of tears. Some days, were about talking. Some were about listening. All were about dealing. And working through the tough stuff.

It was finally a place, were I could just be. I could deal with the anger, the heartbreak, the loneliness, the uncertainty, and the loss. It was a place, were I could just be. I could fall apart. And no one judged me. I found my strength there. In that room. With strangers. I found myself again.

With family and friends, you always hold back. Just a little. You don't want people to know, that you are broken. Inside and out. And you put up walls. You stop being, true to yourself. But in the Support Groups I was in, I could just be. I could be broken, hopeless, and afraid. And I could put myself back together, again. No one ever judged. Ever!

Do be afraid of Support Groups. You will learn how to deal, with all your emotions. You meet similar people. Who will be supportive, of your situation. You will learn, that there are people, who will support you, no matter what you've been through.

It's a place, were you can be real. And get real. With yourself. You are able to put the pieces back together again. You learn tools, that help you to deal with your days. And your emotions. And you  realize, you will be OK.

 

The fact that I was able, to be a part of a support group, helped to prepare me. For the next part of my journey. You don't always know what is coming. But this was a way, to prepare me, for the hard days, that were ahead of me.

I'm so grateful, to the staff at Presbyterian,. That started us, on this journey. They held our hands. Helped put our hearts, back into place. And allowed us, the time and space, to grieve. They helped us grow. And eventually, they helped us, put the pieces back together again.

That's why support groups are so important. It's those things, that allow us to move forward. That help us, to put the feelings, emotions, and grief...in a better place. You learn who you are. And how to deal. It helps you, to get through the day. And the week. Then the month. And before you know it, you will make it to a year. ❤❤❤

Thank You!!!

I didn't know, what I was going to write about today. Life has seemed, a little too much, as of late. I've been sick, off and on, since last March. More sick, than not. I hear, from lots of people, that it's pretty normal. As in, after you stop being the "caregiver," everything attacks. Because you are so exhausted and run down. I believe the term I keep hearing is, "Caregiver Burnout."

But I've tried to fight it. Time and time, again. I'm not that kind of person, that crawls up, and gives up. I'm more, "let me keep fighting." But sometimes, you get knocked down hard. And just need a break. I found myself, in the ER, last Saturday. For the first time, in forever! My body, screaming in pain. My heart literally, felt like someone was stabbing it. And I kept praying. Talking to my Dad, in my head. Just hoping, everything was OK.

I'm still not 100%. And I feel like I need to go see a specialist, or something. Because something is not right. I'm having more side effects, from the shots I was given. And I'm ready to feel human again. To be the person, that is doing for others. Not just "trying to make it, to the end of the day." But I want to share that with you. That not every single day, is a good day.

I think we want people to see that. That we are doing good. That life it OK. And we're moving forward. But sometimes, it's not. And we're not moving forward. And sometimes, we just need some help. Yes, I just said that. Sometimes, I NEED SOME HELP.

It's been a challenging year. I still can't wrap my brain around, the fact that it's been a year. So many things have happened in that year. So much time has passed. But it still doesn't FEEL like a year. A year without my Dad. A year without carrying all of the weight, stress, and responsibilities...that came with taking care of him. A year, without my best buddy. His love. And his companionship.

It's when I read posts like this, that take me back. When reality slaps me, in the face. When I realize, we've made it this far. We will MAKE IT! Because we have God on our side. Rory is such an inspiration, to me. On how to live life. To have the grace, that is necessary, to move forward. And how to have love in my heart, when I feel nothing inside.

After I read this post, it really got me thinking. About how grateful, and thankful, I am. To so many people. You see, I usually start writing my blog posts, the afternoon before I post them. And finish them up, in the morning. Early. When I have a clear mind. And can read, through what I've written. It gives me, a sense of calm and relief, to read through my blog post...early in the morning. Without any distractions. Just me and my words.

Then I go through my e-mails. And that usually leaves me, about an hour. To cry it out. I read every single e-mail. And they make my heart swell! With the love and prayers, that I've received. From all the corners of the internet. To hear YOUR stories. To know, that in some small way, I've made a difference, in YOUR LIVES!

It really does, make my day. I feel, like I can continue, this journey. That no matter what I'm going through, life is still moving forward. And I can somehow, inspire the next person. I can make a difference, in someone else's life. That my words, somehow make someone else's journey, just a little easier. It has touched me, in ways, that I truly, can't bring into words.

You never really understand, how during your lifetime, you spread tiny parts of your heart...all around. How you give people, little pieces of your heart. And then one day, you look up, and you see them. All those pieces. It's almost magical. When you get that "aha moment." When your eyes are opened up, for the very first time. And how you gave just a little, and got so much more, back in return.

I think about that now. Maybe it's being on "this side" of the journey. Maybe it's the growing I've done, in the last year. Maybe it's the struggles, I've walked through. But I see it now. How I've given pieces of myself, to so many. And in return, when I've needed it the very most, I've gotten them back 100 times over!

And I'm so grateful, to all the people that have touched my life. Especially, in the last year. When I've struggled the most. And NEEDED you the most. You have been here for me. The perfect strangers...you have prayed, loved, and thought about me. And my family. The people that drop off, little things. Like a meal, a card, a little something that was my Daddy's.

The people that have embraced us. That were perfect strangers. But who have seen my Mom and I, crying for my Daddy. The caring friends, we've met at the cemetery. The AMAZING people at church. The kind souls, that have paid for a meal, when we have gone out. Our family, that has completely embraced us. Friends who have never left our side.

Those people, that understand, when the world is too heavy. For us to bear. And realize, when we just shut ourselves in. I thank you! From the bottom of my heart. Because sometimes, you just don't know, how to ask for help. But you've had the patience. And have stood by our sides. Sometimes, having to carry us, along this journey.

And I realize, people just want to help. In any way, that they can. They want to help. Because at some point, we've been there for them. They respect us. They love us. And want in some way, to make our lives better. People want to feel your hurt and pain, and they want to share it. To make it less of a burden, for you. They want to take some of that hurt and pain, away from you. To help you, make these tough days, more bearable.

It's in these dark days, that I see the good in humanity. Maybe we've lost our Superman. And part of our family. But the kindness and good, that we've gotten from so many others...has carried us so far! It has given my Mom and I, the strength, when we've needed it most. When we've needed a shoulder to cry on, perfect strangers have been there for us.

I've got to say this. From the AMAZING contractors, and honestly friends, that helped us make it...to the end of last school year. THANK YOU!!! You will never understand, how much, that meant to my Mom and I. To the love and respect, that our business associates showed us, I can't say Thank You enough! You made those dark days, days that we could get through. With our heads held high.

To our friends, Thank You for the grace and love, you have shown us. For lifting us up, on the toughest of days. For being our strength. And our salvation. For the understanding you have given us, when we can't seem to leave our home. Or meet you, for breakfast. Or answer a phone call.

To our family, the ones who have stood by our sides, THANK YOU!!! In ways, that I'll never understand, we've been shown...who really loves and cares about us. I don't mean this, in a mean or hateful way. But in way, that comes from my heart. With love, kindness, and respect. My eyes have been opened up, to know what "real family" is. The people that will come, and pick you up off the ground, and love you just the same. The people, that silently pray for you, every single day. And who understand, that your world has just been shattered. And you're just looking for any way, to move forward. The family, that loves you, just because you are...you. You don't feel like, you have to put on an act. You can just be you. And they love you, for it all! The good, and the bad.

I think about all the blessings, that my Mom and I have received. It's the little things, that get us through the day. And turn our days, into weeks...then into months. And without us realizing it, we made it to a year. It's the little things. The kindness, from our Church Family. Who always, stop and give us a hug, or handshake. Wish us, a good week. Sing to us. Make us smile, when our hearts are hurting, the most. It's the kind people, we both work for. That have made this transition, a little easier. With their kindness, and love. The respect, that they continue to show us both. And the friendship, that will last a lifetime!

It's the dozens of people, who have reached out to us. That have made our world, a little easier, to live in. The kindness, in your words. And in your eyes. The people, that continue to welcome us. Who reach out, with pictures of my Dad. Or stories, that I've never heard. It's the neighbors, who continue to reach out to us. To make sure, we're OK. That our needs are being met. And that we are safe.

Our AMAZING medical team. I just can't say, enough Thank Yous! Truly I can't. For the love, respect, and kindness you have shown us. And continue to show us. How you continue to reach out, to my Mom and I. How you are our biggest cheerleaders! And realize, that my Dad's death, didn't mean that our journey ended. Thank You!!!

Truly, I'm touched, when people at the grocery store, gas station, or a restaurant...reach out to us. To all the AMAZING people, who have been behind the Love For Blue project, from the very beginning! All the amazing people, that continue to help us, grow our foundation. Those people, who have donated to us, made purchases, or have visited us at our various functions...THANK YOU!!!

From the bottom of my heart, I mean it! Thank You!!! For all the kind thoughts, e-mails, prayers...it has made this very tough journey, bearable. At times, you think you are never going to make it. Then someone reaches out. Through an e-mail, a meal, or other kind gesture...and you realize, life isn't so bad.

I know, we are blessed. But God has opened my eyes, my heart, and my soul...to so many kind people. In the darkest of days, we have so many loving people...that hold us up. I could spend my lifetime, trying to thank all of you. Trying to repay you in some way. Trying to even out, the table. But I could never do it. Because the love has poured in. In ways, I could never have imagined.

And I want you all to know, that is what our foundation, and this blog are about. Reaching the next person. Making life, a little easier, for someone else. My family has been so blessed! And we want to pass that forward. In some small way, we want you to know, you matter too. And we're thinking about you. Thank You!!! And for that person, that just isn't sure, I'm thinking about you too. I'm trying to hold you up. You matter. Your journey matters. And there are people, on your side too! ❤❤❤

Our Gentle Doctor

My Dad received all of his care, from one hospital. Different locations. Many doctors. More nurses, than I can sit and talk about. But one hospital. It was the best decision, we could have ever made.

Not only did it make it easier for us. It kept all of my Dad's doctors, on the same page. Everyone had access, to everything, all the time. If we were in the hospital, our doctors were very easy, to get in touch with. All our care, came from the same place. Including, our Homecare.

Along the way, you meet different people. In the Presbyterian organization, they work so well, as a team. Working together, for the patient. Mapping out, how your care will look. Taking every person's opinion, into consideration. And it works really well.

In the Fall of 2014, my Dad was scheduled to potentially have his stoma reversed. Chemo, was making him a little too weak, for the doctors liking. So there was a break, that was taken, halfway through his scheduled 16 treatments.

During this time, he'd receive radiation. And we heard all sorts of horror stories. But my Dad was optimistic. As always. He was ready, to attack this beast, growing inside him. We had an appointment, with the radiation team. And that is where we'd meet Dr. Garg.

An amazingly kind soul. His staff was truly, some of the kindest, that I've ever met! They made us feel so comfortable. And if you've ever had to have radiation, you know the initial appointment, can be rather lengthy.

We went in. The nurses were so kind, and helpful. Explaining everything in great detail. Allowing me, to help as much as possible. They knew, my Dad was most comfortable, when I was with him. After I'd help them, to get him settled in, another nurse, would walk me back to a conference room. Where I could wait. In comfort. With something to drink, and snack on.

I'd meet Dr. Garg first. While my Dad was being "marked" for his treatments. He'd explain to me, what was going to happen. What our schedule would look like. What I could expect. What I should look for, in terms of side effects. And assured me, he'd be right by our sides, the entire time.

Then he'd meet with my Dad and I. And explain everything, in great detail. Making sure, my Dad understood, everything he was saying. Talking to him, and reassuring him. He sat right in front of my Dad, held his hands, and assured him it was going to be OK.

Radiation, was very beneficial to my Dad. He didn't have any side effects. Nothing that they'd warned us about. Or anything we'd heard, from other patients. Dr. Garg, kept his word. And would be by our sides, the entire time. I don't think, there was ever a treatment, where he didn't come and talk to me. To let me know, how things were going.

My Dad was rather weak. By Fall 2014, he'd been through so much. And to go to his doctors' appointments, we'd take his wheelchair. I'd help him, to undress, and put on his hospital gown, before every treatment. The nurses would bring my Dad coffee. And once they'd taken him back, for his treatment, they'd come make sure I was OK.

It really made the entire experience, a positive one. But Dr. Garg, would be the one, that would bring us comfort. He'd talk us through, our entire treatment schedule. He'd answer all of our questions. He'd give me updates. Without me, having to track him down. He would bring me, the information, I'd need to know.

At my Dad's last appointment, he'd have a seizure. The staff was amazing! Dr. Garg, was right there, by our sides. Assuring me, that my Dad was OK. Which I knew. He'd had seizures, all my life. But Dr. Garg, wouldn't leave our side. He'd want to call an ambulance. So we could transport my Dad, from the Radiation Center, to the main hospital. I'd assure him, it would be best, if I'd take my Dad. He would be very disoriented, from the seizure. And would need me, by his side, when he started to "wake up" from the fog.

Dr. Garg, and 2 of his nurses, helped me get my Dad into our van. They'd secure him. And they'd get my cell phone number. Sure enough, they'd call ahead to the hospital for me. And they'd check in, with me, multiple times that afternoon. I'd receive a call from Dr. Garg, that evening, making sure we were OK. He knew, what he was reading from the charts. But he wanted to make sure we were OK. That we were receiving the care, that we should.

It was amazing! Months later, in February 2015, Dr. Garg would be the oncologist working at the hospital. On the weekend of my Dad's birthday. He would do everything he could, to make sure my Dad was comfortable. That we had everything we needed. And after talking to him, about a Surprise Birthday party, I had planned...he assured me, my Dad would be able to attend.

Dr. Garg, was just one of those doctors, that made you feel comfortable. He explained every single detail, to you. And always asked, if we had questions. When he could, he'd make things easier for us. Trying to provide our family, with everything we needed. At the very moment, we needed it.

And the amount of care, respect, and tenderness...that he showed my Dad. It is the thing, I will never forget. We were very blessed, with our medical team. And it's doctors, like Dr. Garg, that made the experience a little easier. We knew, we had a team behind us. And that no matter what, they were fighting for my Dad. To extend his life. To provide comfort. And to make sure, we were all OK.

I'm very grateful to Dr. Garg. And the care he provided. Not just the medical care. But the personal care, he gave my Dad. Even on my Dad's roughest days, he was an amazing doctor. Knowing, that it was the pain, and not my Dad...that was taking over. Thank You Dr. Garg! From the bottom of my heart. My family, appreciates everything you did for my Dad! ❤❤❤

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... ❤❤❤

She Encouraged Our Journey

When I think about physical therapy, and my Dad, I almost want to laugh. He wanted nothing to do, with physical therapy. But in the Spring of 2014, we were put on PT at home. And he'd continue it, until February 2015.

It would be one of those things, that would really bother my Dad. Physical Therapy. But honestly, it was so necessary for him. It was something he needed, much more than he thought, he did. The night before, our first at home session, my Dad would devise a plan. He thought, he could outsmart the physical therapist.

That is, until he met Lucy. She was this petite lady. That had the warmest spirit. The sweetest voice. And the most gentle way, of doing things. During that first session, my Dad would try hard. To prove to her, that he didn't need any help. But it quickly became apparent, to all of us, he need the help.

 

I'll ALWAYS regret, not getting a picture of the two of them.  After that first session, there would be a definite bond. A sense of friendship. And for my Dad, lots of trust. You see, Lucy became more than a physical therapist. She was my Dad's cheerleader. And encourager.

 

When my Dad didn't feel like doing his exercises, I'd remind him of Lucy's next visit. We usually had two a week. But we were supposed to do his exercises, every single day. My Dad would give me this look, every single time, he saw me coming with Lucy's notes. But quickly, he realized, those exercises were helping. He was getting a little stronger. With each visit. And we would begin, doing his exercises, two and three times a day.

 



 

 Lucy was never pushy. She was never rude. Or in a rush. She only had kind words. Encouragement. And my Dad's well being, on her mind. She encouraged me, to do the exercises with my Dad. She taught me things, that would benefit both my Dad and I. How to help him, to get around. How to strengthen his muscles. And keep his spirit up.

You see, Lucy always knew about our battle. She knew about the cancer. I know, she understood the situation. And my Dad's pride. She understood, that life was difficult for us. But she encouraged us. All of us. And helped us, to see the best in life.

It was not always easy. There were many set backs. In my Dad's recovery. In his strength. In the things he was dealing with. But Lucy was a cheerleader. She helped us all, to see the good, that was in our life.

And when we'd need help, getting safety equipment, it was Lucy who would help out. She'd make calls to people. She would write referrals. And she'd also give us options. For places, we might look, for supplies. Lucy became someone, I could trust.

My Dad would stay true to Lucy. You see, every time we would go to the hospital and return home, we'd get a different physical therapist. The first time it happened, he got in a fight with our new PT person. Then he'd tell me, to call and get Lucy. The second time it happened, he told them to leave his property. And again, we'd call Lucy. The third time it happened, he told the HomeCare people, he didn't need PT. Then they sent Lucy.

It wasn't that my Dad, didn't want help. It was the trust, that Lucy and he, had developed. It was a bit of history. And lots of understanding. He knew, she didn't judge him. And that she had his best interest, in mind. All of the time!

It was that encouragement, that kept my Dad going. I'll forever be grateful, to Lucy. The lady that walked us through bed exercises. Then sitting exercises. And eventually, standing exercises. She was the lady, that made sure my Dad was safe at home. And who would take walks with us, through our neighborhood.

And honestly, it was the patience she had. The understanding. And the trust, that we all developed. Lucy shared our religious beliefs. And would often times, pray for us. I can't tell you, how much that meant. But she also understood our values. And our sense of community. Lucy shared many things with us. And it meant, that our bond was incredibly strong.

I will forever be grateful, to Lucy. For her professionalism, her kindness, her care, her compassion,  and all of her encouragement. It really did help, my Dad. In so many ways. To extend, the "good days," that he had. It added to his overall health. And allowed us, more time together. In the end, my Dad looked forward to PT. And his visits from Lucy. He really enjoyed the challenges, that she would present him with. ❤❤❤

The Gentle Spirit

As tough as this journey has been, we've had some amazing people behind us. People that have just been our safety net. It's like they know exactly when, we need someone at our sides.

My Auntie Bug, has been that person. For both my Mom and I. There is just something, that is gentle, when you talk about her character. She is easy going. Has a way, of talking, that just calms a person. And honestly, there have been many days, when that is what we've needed.

It's crazy, to know that for so long, we had just lost touch with our family. We were just trying to survive. And most days, it was just a success to be home. Getting together with family and friends, seemed so overwhelming. Something we just couldn't figure out, how to do.

But through it all, our family still loved us. And since my Dad's passing, it's this sort of family, that has held us up. On our darkest of days, they are the ones, that get us through it all. The kind words. The prayers. The little outings.

My Auntie Bug, quickly became that person. For both my Mom and I. In different, but very important ways. She was the one person, I could talk to. Openly. About what was going on. She was the one person, my Mom seemed to open up to.

During the summer, when we wanted to do nothing more than lock ourselves up at home, my Auntie would somehow get us out. We'd go on little adventures. Day trips. Shopping trips. Out to eat. Always including, lots of laughter. And plenty of compassion.

It's what we needed. And my Auntie Bug, always seemed to show up, on the days we needed her most. It was like she knew, when our hearts were hurting most. She'd come. And bring that little bit of sunshine, that we needed.

Over the last 10 months, my Auntie Bug has gotten my Mom and I, to go on little trips. Camping and pinon picking. She's been a "sounding board," for my Mom. My Auntie and Uncle, have been the only people, that could get my Mom out and about.

But it didn't start, when my Dad past away. It started before then. When they'd come to visit in the hospital. Bring my Dad a little something. Their visits, would brighten his day. And mine. It was the text messages. And the prayers. The positive thoughts, that they brought with them.

Funny how that works. How the gentlest of spirits, has a way of working in your life. They move you in ways, that you never thought about before. They bring calm, in the middle of a storm. And provide an escape, from the life you are struggling in. They also bring that security, that you are craving most, in your life.

I'm very grateful to my Auntie Bug. And all that she has done for my Mom. And for me. And everything she did for my Dad. In ways that I can't find words for, she gave him hope. And a sense of calm. And of security. That we'd be OK. We'd have family to surround us. And love us. And watch over us.

We are very lucky. To have the family and friends, that we have. We're also very lucky, to have my Auntie Bug. I know, I can call her, at anytime of day. And she's there for me. I know, as tough as it is, she'll love my Mom through this difficult chapter. And I know, we'll never be alone. ❤❤❤

Officer Webster Fundraiser

On Tuesday, I shared with you, that we are raising money. For Officer Daniel Webster's family. I really believe, that this is a good cause. Something my Dad, would have gotten behind. Something that my Mom and I, are passionate about.

I made a few things, over the last couple of days. And I'm still working on some new items. Since I posted our plans on Facebook, I've received so many orders! Keep them coming. If there is anything you'd like to see, let me know. I want to raise as much money, for this family, as possible!

First of all, I've made more of these hearts. They have pins on the back of them. And they are $1, a piece.

I also made some headbands. The ones with the black flowers, are limited. So if you are interested, let me know, right away! The headbands are $3 each. Also, if you have any black or blue flowers to donate, let me know. I've got plenty of headbands. I just need the flowers.

This is a size 6-12 months beanie. We're asking $10, for it. While trying to take pictures of my beanies, I sold them all! At the park. I only have this one, and the next. But if you are interested in something else, let me know. I had made some beanies for boys. And some hats, with the earflaps too.

This is the only other beanie I have. Again, a 6-12 month size. With a large flower. We're selling this one, for $12.

 

And I have these coffee cup cozies. I'm asking $3 a piece. I've seen people use these, on their water bottles. And coffee cups, that you get at places like McDonald's, Starbucks, and the gas station.

There you go! As always, you can contact me on here, via e-mail (LoveForBlue2015@aol.com), or on Facebook. My goal is, to make our donation on Monday. But if I continue to get orders, I may push back the date, until the following week. Again, 100% of the profits made, will be donated to the Webster Family. Please support them! ❤❤❤

Thank You!!!

Weeks ago, when I loaded up our crafts, for our First Growers' Market...I never realized, how much support we'd get. Saturday, was our last day, of the season. And as I look back on these few weeks, I realize that you guys, made it a success!

I can't even begin to tell you, how many people, came out to support us. Even on the cold days. Like Saturday. I'd see smiling faces. I'd take orders. I'd sell items. There were new people to meet. Old faces, to reminisce with. It was a joy!

So many of the nurses, that we'd gotten to know. They supported us, each and every week. They'd bring me a warm drink. Or a snack. They'd come to share stories with me. About my Dad. And they'd purchase items from us.

 

And all those early mornings, in the cold, were well worth it! We did so much fundraising. Spread our message. And touched many hearts. I feel blessed. To know, that people are supportive. As passionate, as I am. About our cause. And remember my Daddy. With love, in their hearts.

This entire journey, is for him. My Daddy. My Hero. And now, my Angel. We started this foundation, together. And I will carry it, for him. I will continue his work. Will try to reach his goals. And work hard, to make his dreams, come true.

I thought of my Daddy, every single morning. As I unloaded boxes, tables, and that tent. Well before, the sun had rose. It wasn't all bad. I had so much fun too. First and foremost, getting our message out. Raising money. And meeting new people.

The other vendors, were amazing! From the very first day! They welcomed me, and our cause, with open arms. They made a difference in my life. Helped to sell our goods. Spread the word. Helped me, to find, other places to sell. And were just kind. Thank You, to any of you, who are reading this. It doesn't seem like enough. But Thank You!

You see, these people became my friends. I looked forward to seeing them, every week. And talking to them. We shared food. Lots of food! Funny stories. And they ALWAYS sent me home, with fresh produce. More than anything, I enjoyed their company.

It's during these difficult times, that God sends us, the people we need. He makes sure, that we have, support. And love. I'm grateful, for all of it. And for the ability, to raise money. For our cause. To continue to work toward, our goals. And I look forward, to next season. All the amazing people. And the many people, we can reach, with our message! ❤❤❤