Stories from a Life I Didn't Plan

Tag: Faith (Page 4 of 4)

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

A couple of weeks after my parents’ wedding anniversary, my sisters and I organized a dinner and family get together celebrating a lifetime of love. My parents’ love for each other and for each of us who was born into this microcosm of loving commitment.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love with a sparkling cider toast to Mom and Dad – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

I have watched my parents for a lifetime and made some observations. Frankly, I think that 53 years is a pretty amazing benchmark and I hope that the people in my life that I love will benefit from the lessons I have learned from my dad and mom.

Something I have learned from Dad and Mom is that you must care about and take care of one another.  My mom fixes my dad’s favorite meals just because he likes them and it makes him happy, even if they aren’t her favorites, too. Dad always carries in the groceries and other heavy cargo to and from the car for Mom. Their relationship is symbiotic. They look out for one another and show their care and affection in these simple, yet meaningful ways. Simply put, they are a great team.

Dad and Mom also remember why they fell in love in the first place. But, even more than the memories of the love at first or second sight, is the lifetime of shared experiences, the highs and lows, the stresses and accomplishments that glue them together. After 53 years, sometimes it is hard to see who one is without the other. They complement one another.

I might even dare write, although they might take issue with my choice of words, that my parents are unabashed feminists. During my lifetime of family memories, I only remember my dad supporting and encouraging my mom to follow her interests and reach her goals. He always believed she could do whatever she put her mind to do. It never diminished who he was and he never felt threatened by her achievements or by hearing her opinions. They made decisions together. They discussed things as equal partners and proceeded down agreed upon, sometimes heatedly agreed upon, paths. This model of sharing life together and joint decision making is an aspect of their relationship that I am proud to have as part of my heritage. It helped to shape me as the independent and confident person I have become.

Likewise, Dad never set limits on what he thought we, his four daughters, could do. He taught me to change a tire when I was old enough to drive a car, but urged me to get a good job so I could be in a position to have someone else change it for me. Dad told us we could do anything we wanted. There were no boundaries Dad put on our dreams. I am grateful for Dad, who affirmed and believed we could do the amazing.

Mom was always the heart of our home. She is the one who greeted us when we came home from school, taught us to cook, bake, sew and other lost arts of homemaking. Mom read us bedtime stories and colored in our coloring books with us. She is the one who faced down teachers when we came home in tears and later explained to us why we were in the wrong once she understood the grown up version of events. Mom demonstrated how to be a loving, protective caregiver, while modeling how to be a competent, capable woman, worthy of being listened to with respect for her wisdom, knowledge and experience.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

The Original Six Crowes – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

At the center of their relationship, Dad and Mom have faith in God and that anchors them and the rest of us, too. Through dark and difficult days, Dad and Mom are quick to reassure us that God is faithful and that he hears our prayers, even when we do not see it played out immediately in daily life.

In recent years, our family has faced daunting, unexpected challenges, the latest being my detour with cancer. Yet in the midst of it all, Mom and Dad pull together, lean on one another, and become the oaken strength needed to pull us all through. Their unshakable faith in God and in each of us steers us all through the deep waters of the unknown with the assurance that we will be okay. Things may not end up how we thought or wanted, but we will still be okay.

One of the fears I had for my parents as they grew older was that they would find retirement boring and become antiquated and dated in their thinking. Throughout my life, I had heard of people who could not figure out what to do with themselves and their health deteriorated. Or, they lost touch with the technological advancements of the times and unwittingly ostracized themselves by becoming difficult to include because of their inflexible ways.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Family Celebrating a Lifetime of Love – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

This has certainly not been the case with my parents. In their retirement years, they have disproved the old saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” While I could comment on that being due to them being Crowes and not dogs, I will resist the temptation and simply say I think it is inspiring.

Since retiring, my parents have each developed new and unique interests they pursue individually. I can imagine how hard it would be to have dinner conversation with someone every night if both did the same thing all day everyday. Their pastimes give them something novel and interesting to share with one another and with the rest of us. Mom has developed her knowledge of technology and helps Dad with his projects when needed. It is exciting to see them craft their skills in new areas.

As you can see, we had compelling reasons to be celebrating a lifetime of love with our parents and boy, did we have fun! My sisters and I decided to put Dad and Mom through all the traditional paces of young love, like cutting the cake together, linking arms to drink to a teetotaler’s toast, and kissing on demand. They good naturedly played along, making the evening all the more festive.

But, we also planned activities that we had shared with Dad and Mom over the years. We played games, sang gathered around the piano while Mom played, and ate a delicious meal together, all of which was an integral part of our family life when we were growing up. And, I remembered how much fun we were together! I smiled and laughed and enjoyed celebrating a lifetime of love because I am a result of that love and commitment. I would not be the person I am today without that specific set of parents and those smart, multitalented, wild, and crazy sisters.

Surrounded by this great throng of people, I was struck by the many and varied talents represented. And to think, it all started with a young couple in love. Each of my sisters is intelligent, articulate, artistic, and funny. Their children have benefited from their unique talents and developed their individual expression of the innate artist within.

My eldest niece, Catie, has developed one of her great talents into a successful photography business and has graciously allowed me to use her photos in this post. Please check out more of her work in the following links:   Catherine Leanne Photography and Catherine Leanne Photography Blog . If you know of anyone in need of a creative photographer for an upcoming event in Northern California and beyond, I encourage you to contact Catie.

Celebrating a Lifetime of Love

Two Original Crowes’ Anniversary Cake – Photograph courtesy of Catherine Leanne Photography

Each one of my sisters used their gifts and talents to organize this celebration. Alice planned the menu and delivered food from Tantardini’s, a European Bakery-Deli. Absolutely delicious. She also spearheaded the keepsake picture frame we all signed for a picture taken by Catie to commemorate the celebration. Leanne coordinated the upcoming not-so-secret-now getaway we decided they needed as a break from the stress of chemotherapy and other daily pressures. Lynnette oversaw the creation of the balloon bouquets by her teenaged sons, designed the table centerpiece, and created a cake that was both delicious and beautiful (assisted in the final touches by her twin sister, of course.) There were other things they did, but my sometimes unreliable, chemo affected brain cannot recall it all now.

Forgive me if I have crowed enthusiastically over my family, but I feel enormously blessed to have been born to these parents and to have grown up with such witty and interesting sisters. As we were celebrating a lifetime of love, first and foremost, we celebrated our parents’ love for each other, but I couldn’t help but reflect on how much love over our lifetime they have lavished on us.

I think that’s an incredible reason to celebrate.

Unlikely Fellows on the Cancer Detour

The unlikely fellows on the cancer detour have been one of my great surprises during the past few months. Soon after recovering from surgery, I looked for cancer support groups and found Cancer CAREpoint, a local non-profit offering free counseling, as well as cancer support groups.

After attending my first support group, I was hooked! It was such a relief to find other women who were grappling with doubts, fears, and struggles similar to what I was facing. From these groups, I have Unlikely Fellows on the Cancer Detour
made personal connections with a couple of the others and we talk outside of the group. I would like to say we meet for coffee, but that’s off the table for those of us who have to watch our exposure to the public due to the risk of infection.

But, when we talk on the phone or at the oncologist’s office, we may run the gamut of emotions and topics from mutually bemoaning the distressing loss of hair; to other surprising, and sometimes humorous, changes in our appearance; side effects; and family issues, just to name a few. With these faithful fellows, I have found understanding and encouragement.  Often, we are laughing one second and on the verge of tears in the next.

These unlikely fellows on the cancer detour share a body of knowledge that none of us ever expected to learn and carry a card to a club none of us ever wished to join. Yet, in the face of the unexpected turn that life has taken us, I admire the courage and commitment to live that these fellows embody, whether by courageously facing a new therapy or graciously dealing with unpleasant side effects. Some of them are survivors, some are like me and just on a cancer detour, some face recurrences, and others are walking with cancer down their final stretch of the journey of life. Their courage and grace inspire and challenge me. Some encourage with their outlook on life and others on their tenacity.  For example, one person I met was given about six months to live and seven years later is still standing.

And, the faith of one of the select few closest to me inspires me. Even with the ups and downs of treatment, she has the assurance that if God heals her then great, but if not, then he will be with her no matter what. Her faith inspires and challenges me to put life and cancer in perspective and to live with hope for the future.

The shared wisdom and experience of these unexpected companions help me as I try to find my way. Although I know each experience is unique, still their experiences help me realize that I am not alone and although they may be unlikely fellows on the cancer detour, the accompaniment eases me down the road.

Ways to Support Someone During a Serious Health Crisis

ways to support someone during a serious health crisis

Chemo Infusion Number 2

Since I began leading a very sequestered life due to chemotherapy, many of my family, friends, and neighbors have offered to help me however they can. So, I have been thinking of suggestions for ways to support someone during a serious health crisis.

As an independent, single person, sometimes I find asking for and accepting help difficult. I hate to inconvenience anyone and hesitate to ask if I think I will be imposing. And frankly, sometimes I cannot think about getting dressed, let alone what I might need. Nevertheless, I am deeply grateful to these kind folks for their offers and have taken many up on their kindness.

First, try to find out about the person’s needs and health limitations. Then, decide how you are able and willing to help . Finally, make a sincere, specific offer of assistance.

In addition to the myriad tasks my mother does for me, I have a neighbor and friends who get me groceries or other miscellany at the store; a friend who offers to go to chemo with me; a friend who brings dinner on the weeks my mom is at home and brings various items from the store; a sister who acts as my personal shopper and is not a bit bothered by becoming the annoying person in the store on her cell phone while she FaceTimes me to show me a product before making a purchase; a friend who comes over to walk with me; and another friend who calls to say, “I’m on my way to Target or Costco, can I pick up anything for you?” It is a lot less intimidating to ask someone to buy something for you when they are already at the store.

One of the casualties of health is energy. Staying on top of everyday tasks as simple as housework and meal preparation can become an unachievable goal.  If you have time and are willing, consider offering to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathtub, launder clothes, or take out the trash. Maybe bringing a meal would be helpful, once you find out what dietary restrictions have to be followed. Perhaps you could take the car to get gas or offer to drive to appointments or help with chores, like banking or going to the post office. If they are in a chemo fog, or have chemo brain, they might need help organizing tasks like paying bills and keeping track of medical appointments and prescriptions.

If you are not sure what you can do, I have a few other suggestions of ways to support someone during a serious health crisis, and I encourage you to check out other websites that share creative ways to be supportive, like 20 MORE Things You Can Do When Someone You Love Has Cancer,  44 Ways to Make the Day of Someone With CancerHow to Help a Friend Going Through Treatment for Cancer, My Angry Cancer, and We Need to Stop Saying, “Let Me Know If You Need Anything” .

For me, when my friends have been specific about how they can help me, it makes it a lot easier to say, “Thanks. I would really appreciate that.” And, I do. I truly do appreciate each kind act you do for me.

 

Managing Chemo Side Effects

One of the most important conversations I had with the oncologist before starting chemotherapy highlighted all possible side effects and how to go about managing chemo side effects.

Nausea, cold sensitivity, infertility, hair loss, skin dryness, neuropathy, low white cell count, low platelet count, risk of infection, mouth sores, etcetera. For each chemo regimen, the list varies, but nothing on any list is very appealing.

Knowing what might lay ahead helped me feel equipped and  empowered as I started chemo. In fact after the first round of chemo, I thought I knew what to expect and talked to the oncologist about how to mitigate the most bothersome side effect that I had experienced. I felt confident that I was well prepared for dealing with this chemo thing.

Then came round two. Side effects were similar, except that the main side effect from round one was no longer an issue and the preventive measures I took actually made me miserable.

From round to round, I have found that the side effects can vary somewhat or other times widely. Sometimes one will be worse than another and just as soon as I have a plan with the oncologist to mitigate the most bothersome, another pops up and the first one doesn’t seem so bad.

Yes, it makes planning difficult. But sometimes, it is also a relief when nausea that had persisted from round to round suddenly isn’t a problem at all in one round. I still believe that being informed and prepared for chemo is preferable to going in without the information. I am grateful for sites like livestrong.com and the American Cancer Society that provide information about the side effects of chemotherapy for different kinds of cancer.

For me, managing chemo side effects is a little like playing a video game: Just when you think you have it mastered, you get bumped up to the next level where the environment is the same, but the variables have changed.

They say forewarned is forearmed and indeed I can say that at this point in my chemotherapy I am ready for just about anything.

 

An Unshakeable Legacy of Love

Two days ago my Granny Crowe would have turned 101 years old if she were still alive. Although Granny left us before we were ready, she left her family an unshakeable legacy of love.

When I was a girl, on Saturdays my family would drive to Granny and Pa’s where my sisters and I would play with our cousins. We would run around outside and do who knows what, but we had fun because we were at Granny and Pa’s.

My most precious memory of going to Granny and Pa’s was how special I felt in the middle of that grand group of cousins. Granny had a gift for making people feel like they were precious and exquisitely loved. Among the murder of Crowes, I was an insignificant pipsqueak. I was born with crooked feet, a speech impediment, and brown eyes. I was the second of four girls and there was nothing significant about me except for one thing: most of the Crowes had the most beautiful blue eyes.

But not me.  My eyes were brown. Over the years they have lightened up to a more nondescript color, but when I was a girl they were most definitely brown. Granny made sure that having those brown eyes made that crooked footed, tongue-tied little girl feel special. I believe Granny made each of us feel that loved and special, even though there was a great bunch of us.

Nothing made me know I was loved quite like being drawn to Granny’s breast in a hug so deep I could almost feel her heart beating.  Granny’s love flowed into me through her sweet embrace and touched me to my soul. I knew I was loved deeply.

Granny and Pa’s legacy lives on. Recently, one of my Crowe cousins hosted a family Christmas party. I was excited to see pictures of the event via Facebook. I marveled at the number of people attending the party and the smiles on their faces as they enjoyed being together as a family during the holidays, just like we loved going to Granny and Pa’s on Saturdays. Those pictures reminded me of how Granny left an unshakeable legacy of love in the heart of more than one little, brown-eyed girl.

 

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed by Family Illness

The best-laid Christmas plans derailed due to unexpected family illness. While on chemotherapy, I maintain a quiet, sequestered life to protect me from the risk of infection. Once I realized my chemo schedule would leave me free the entire week of Christmas, I made plans with family to spend the week at my elder sister’s home and go across town to my parents’ home for various activities, including gift opening and Christmas dinner. I anticipated this special time to enjoy with my loved ones. Little did I know a severe, highly contagious virus would sweep through the household, resulting in our best-laid Christmas plans derailed.

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed

Annual Tradition of Admiring Christmas Light Displays Was Missing a Few Important People

Early in the week, it became apparent that sickness had hit my parents’ house. First one, and then another fell ill with a nasty respiratory virus, making it imprudent for me to be in close contact with my dear family. Thankfully, my sister’s family across town remained healthy, so I stayed nearby with the hope that the virus would pass quickly.

 

We had also all joined in a family meeting using Skype early in the week, so I began to think about Skyping with one sister who could not be with us for Christmas for gift opening. It seemed to be the next best thing to being there.

As Christmas dawned, family members were still ill, making it impossible for me safely join them for our planned celebration. So, we cooked dinner in separate kitchens across town, transported dishes for Christmas dinner and gifts, and then logged into Skype so that we could watch as gifts were passed around and opened.

Although I did not get the hugs I normally enjoy while home to visit, amazingly, the joy of Christmas surrounded us and we were able to watch via Skype as each one peeled back wrapping paper of carefully selected gifts. Skyping made us slow down and focus on each individual family member, appreciating the joy of receiving a well chosen gift and the resulting gratitude expressed. And, we sent one another air hugs and other expressions of love through cyberspace.

While we had seen our best-laid Christmas plans derailed, we still savored a delicious, potluck home-cooked Christmas dinner and celebrated this special time together through the miracle of modern technology.

Losing Hair on Chemo

When I first met with the oncologist about my impending chemotherapy regimen, he told me that most people do not lose their hair on this chemotherapy. Only about 15% would tend to bald. He emphasized that my chemo is a medium sort of chemo, which would not be too onerous. Unfortunately, several weeks ago I noticed I was losing hair on chemo.

All of a sudden, my hair started ending up in my mouth, in my food, all over my clothes and the floor. It was coming out in my comb and brush, lining the sink and the tub whenever I was near. Even the dust bunnies that accumulate on my hardwood floors are now somewhat blonde like me.

Since my oncologist had assured me I would not lose my hair, I was alarmed thinking that I was going to be bald. This was not supposed to happen to me! I was not supposed to be losing hair on chemo. Chagrined by my vanity, I felt doubly grieved: first, for losing hair on chemo and second, for feeling so mournful about my hair loss.

One day, I awoke with such terrible bed head that I had to rejoice that I still had enough hair to support this amazingly, ratted mess. The silliness of my appearance and the sheer volume reassured me. And, after all, hair grows back, and thankfully mine normally grows quickly.

As my hair continues to thin, admittedly I still struggle with how cancer and chemo have changed my life. I wasn’t supposed to be losing hair on chemo, but in my imagined version of my life, I wasn’t supposed to have an aggressive, fast growing cancer before I turned 50. I wasn’t supposed to have a port infection, either.  Perhaps finding myself the exception to these medical statistics should make me feel exceptional, a stand out from the crowd. Still, I would settle for not being such a medical exception, unless it is to never have cancer again–in spite of the statistics.

 

Losing Hair on Chemo

Is that really my hair?!?

 

Unexpected Cancer Detour: Hijacked Once Again

When I began writing My Hijacked Life, I had no idea that an unexpected cancer detour was just ahead.

About the time I left off blogging last year, I had begun to lose my appetite and consequently, lose weight. Along with that, I would often have cold hands, heart palpitations, and I lacked energy. These signs were so subtle that I didn’t think much about them indicating that something was wrong. In fact, the unexplained 20 pound weight loss for someone who has been weight conscious for an entire lifetime, was a great boon. Since I was experiencing extreme stress at work and at home, I simply attributed the weight loss to life’s turmoil and pressure.

As 2015 dawned, I faced some health challenges. At the end of May, I contracted a virus that should have gone away in a matter of days, but stayed a full two weeks. Summer vacation began, but instead of staying up all night catching up on reading and or having movie marathons, I was going to bed at 9 p.m.

At the beginning of July, my mother and I took a once in a lifetime trip to Europe. Unbelievably, I was sick and tired the entire time, even as I was trying to fit in everything on my must see and do list.

Again stateside, I visited my primary care physician who told me it could take a month or so to get things under control, so I assumed everything was good.

Meanwhile, I began to ready things for the school year and in spite of flagging energy, I had things all set for the students’ arrival on the first day of school.

Just before classes started, a specialist ran a broad blood panel after I described symptoms I had been experiencing. The results showed I was extremely anemic.  After teaching only one day, I was sent to another specialist who recommended immediate hospitalization for blood transfusions in preparation for tests to identify the cause of my blood loss.

Diagnostic tests revealed a cancerous tumor, so the same evening I had a CT scan before having surgery early the next morning. An experienced surgeon removed the tumor, leaving clean margins. Tests showed the lymph nodes and liver were clear, which was welcome news.

The recommended oncologist ordered additional tests to determine whether or not I required chemotherapy. After an excruciating three weeks, I sat flanked by family as the oncologist told me that I would need chemo: Another curve in my unexpected cancer detour.

I prepared to be off work for six months. Dutifully, I  got my flu shot and had my teeth cleaned as recommended before starting chemo. On the Friday evening before starting chemo, after teaching all day, I returned to the hospital where my skilled surgeon installed a mediport that would enable me to receive chemo. On Saturday, I visited a local historical landmark with a friend. Sunday, I went to church and made lesson plans. Then, on Monday I was back at school for my last day with my students.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a large chair with a tube connected to the mediport in my shoulder having various cancer fighting substances pumped through my body. I looked across the room at a lady who said, “You are too young to be going through this.” I wholeheartedly agree. Often, I seem to be the youngest person in the infusion room. So, to say my unexpected cancer detour has been surreal would be an understatement.

Life altering. Overwhelming. Redefining. A new normal. My very own B.C.: Before Cancer. Any of those might do.

I can be walking down a hallway and that truth suddenly flashes in my mind, my stomach lurches, and I nearly miss a step because that is the new me. I have had cancer. Hopefully my unexpected cancer detour will soon be in my past, not my future, but only time will tell.

While the events leading up to my unexpected cancer detour are indelibly etched in my memory, I can’t see the future quite as easily. I do not know what my life’s new normal will be, how I should plan, or exactly how this detour will shape me. Should I quit my job and travel the world using up my retirement or should I work for a few more years to maximize payouts in my twilight years? While the truth is that nobody knows what the future holds, that reality is painfully clear to me.

My oncologist tells me that chemo is a temporary life alteration, but this I know: for good or for ill, I am not the same and will never be the person I was B.C.: before my unexpected cancer detour.

Once again, my life has been hijacked.

My Hijacked Life

My Hijacked Life

My hijacked life doesn’t look like I expected it would. As a little girl, all kinds of people conditioned me with ideas and dreams about what life would be like when I grew up; when I become a woman. Little did I know that I would never become a woman, at least not in the way idealized by many of my mother’s generation.

Although I went through the requisite pubescent transformation, I never became a mother. In fact, I have never become many of the things everyone told me or expected of me: a lover, a mother or a caregiver. In fact, in some ways I feel as though my life has been hijacked.

I always thought I was doing something worthwhile in teaching and becoming a missionary and I believed while I pursued those worthy vocations that perhaps I would meet a man with similar interests and life paths and we would continue on pursing those worthy vocations together. As the years went by, the dream of children in that equation faded as it inevitably does, but oddly enough the anticipated find a potential mate has yet to be realized.

The Continuation of My Hijacked Life

Finally in the summer of 2015, spurred to action by my desire to be a parent I decided to investigate local foster family agencies and to attend classes for future foster parents. I had explored foster to adopt at other times and in other places, but the timing had always been wrong. This particular summer, just as I had completed all but one of the required training courses through the Bill Wilson Center and was preparing to submit my application to become a foster parent, I was diagnosed with cancer. Those plans to finally become a parent were immediately derailed and once again, I felt the crushing weight of disappointment in my hijacked life.

It seems like there is always another surprise on the way. Unexpected disappointments can crush and break, but one can rise up in brokenness with anticipation and faith that life is still good, even when it seems like our hopes and dreams have been hijacked.

 

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