The Moyer Foundation Luncheon, 2011

David and I were invited to the Moyer Foundation Luncheon/benefit this year, as the guests of the Hutch School. David was a student at the Hutch School during his 9th grade year, when Katie was in the hospital having her treatment for cancer. We love that school and its staff, and we appreciate all that they did for both David and Katie during the year of 2006-7. They were both blessed by their time at the Hutch (Katie attended in April, May and part of June). The Moyer Foundation supports the Hutch School. If you would like to know how you can help the Hutch School, please visit the website and check out their WISH LIST and volunteer opportunities.

David's Hutch School photo, October 2006

David & Katie with Hutch School Staff, June 2007

You may recall that last year, I was the speaker for this event. It was fun to be in the audience this year - far more relaxing for me - and it was a treat to have David with me. The staff of the Hutch School were terribly happy to see David. It has been at least two years since we went back for a visit, and he has obviously changed quite a bit. They sat next to him at the table and chatted before the program began.

The Moyers are a kind and compassionate couple. They are generous, with strong faith and values. They believe in using their gifts to help children in distress, and they practice their beliefs. They are expanding their foundation, and we learned more about what they are doing during their presentations. You can find out more by visiting their website or facebook page.

It filled my heart to see my son, healthy and happy, visiting with the good people who helped him to cope with his sister's illness and the upheaval to our family's life during that horribly stressful time in our lives. It was a pleasure to introduce him to the Moyers, who kindly took a few moments with us. It moved me to tears to realize that we would not be there, expanding our understanding of children in crisis and those who use their power for good, if it hadn't been for Katie and her cancer journey. I would rather have my daughter back than know any of it - of course I would - but that was not given to us. In spite of that fact, I am aware of all that Katie's path has done to enlighten, broaden and change ours. I owe her so much for opening my eyes and my heart.

Thank you, Hutch School, for all you do every day for children in distress!

Ann Marie, Katie & classmates at the Hutch, Spring 2007

Thank you, Jamie & Karen Moyer for your support of the Hutch School, and the many other ways that you care for children in our communities.

Jamie Moyer, Karen Gberger & Karen Moyer, 2010

P.S. - We saw the ring ("World Series rings are notoriously showy.  They are meant to be seen and admired, if not for their actual appearance, then for their meaning.  Each ring for last year`s Phillies championship was made of 14-karat white gold and held 103 diamonds (one for each of the team`s regular-season wins).  The left side of the ring was personalized with the player`s name above the Phillies` Liberty Bell logo.  The right side showed a World Series trophy shooting out of a tiny rendition of Citizens Bank Park, and the face of ring contained a ruby inlay and the famous Phillies "P" in more diamonds"). It's flashier and bigger than I would ever have believed, if I hadn't seen it myself, up close. It's hard for me to imagine that a man would want to wear something so BLINGY, except for what it symbolizes in the baseball world. I wonder who designed it! To read more, click here.

The Moyer Foundation 2010 Annual Giving Luncheon

The Moyer Foundation posted the following update on facebook Friday:

"Thank you for supporting the 2010 Annual Giving Luncheon- helping to raise more than $250,000 for children in distress in our community."

How wonderful, to read that!

The event was lovely, and very well done.

My mom and I arrived a bit early, and were welcomed at the "VIP reception" on the 35th floor of the Sheraton. We were kindly greeted by Foundation staff, and served hors d'oeuvres by the catering staff. There was a lovely buffet and champagne, but Mom and I agreed that alcohol was NOT in our best interests, under the circumstances.

A staff member came to invite me to pose for photographs with Jamie and Karen Moyer. I went with her. As we met for the first time, the Moyers couldn't have been more welcoming or gracious. Karen said something about me being "a rose between two thorns." She also told me that, if I had any trouble at all getting through my talk, I should look for her - she would be right nearby for support. Very kind. She was also wearing a fabulous outfit, with KILLER shoes...I mean to say.

I went back to the table where Mom was waiting, and we listened to a few words from a Board member, and from the Moyers. After that, it was time to go downstairs to find our lunch table. We were seated with people from the Hutch School, the group by whom I was invited to speak. David and Katie both attended the Hutch School - David for most of his 9th grade year while Katie was in the hospital, and Katie for the last month or two of the same (her 6th grade) school year. Both of the kids LOVED the Hutch School, and I was looking forward to speaking on their behalf, in support of their excellent program.

Let me back up: the Hutch School is supported, in part, by the Moyer Foundation.  I'm very familiar with the Hutch, but was not as familiar with the Moyer Foundation. After I accepted their invitation to speak, the executive director of the Moyer Foundation suggested that I come over to meet him and some of the staff, so that I could learn more about them, and they could get to know me a bit better.

I drove over to the Moyer Foundation office on Magnolia Bluff. It was inspiring; they are excited about what they do, and committed to doing it well. As we were getting acquainted, the executive director realized that our family had been helped by the Moyer Foundation's generosity much more than any of us had known. Since they support Ronald McDonald House, Childlife &Advanced Care at Seattle Children's Hospital, Hospice, the American Cancer Society's Camp GoodTimes West AND the Hutch School, he felt there was a lot more that I could say...yet still, just five minutes in which to say it, at the luncheon!

I went home and did some writing, and re-writing, and editing. I practiced, and edited some more. I read it aloud with Latte "heckling" me (rubbing up against my legs, purring and distracting). And then I was as ready as possible.

I am not a public speaker. I love to write, and tell stories, but delivering them on stage is daunting, and it's not getting any easier with practice. Smaller groups are better for me. This room, the Sheraton's "grand ballroom," had about 75 tables, set for 10 people. I'm not kidding - there were nearly 800 people in attendance. Huge video screens were placed around the room so that everyone could see the stage, from every place in the room.

It was a luncheon; just one hour. Very good for business people, and the staff kept it moving and on time. The Moyer Foundation volunteers and staff members were awesome, courteous and professional. Awards were given to the Volunteer of the Year, Youth Volunteer of the Year, the Humanitarian Award and the Corporate Partner Award. All were inspiring. Steve Raible (a local news broadcaster and MC of the event) spoke. A board member spoke; the executive director spoke. Karen & Jamie Moyer spoke. I kept counting my note cards, to be sure I hadn't lost one, while we ate lunch. I didn't eat much - I was concerned that I might end up with bit of parsley or green onion stuck between my teeth, and I was having fear fantasies about that - but I did eat some chicken, so that I wouldn't get up on stage and faint (another fear fantasy). Have I mentioned that I'm not a professional speaker?

A staff member came to get me. I stood by one of the enormous video screens, to the side of the stage, and leaned against the wall. My legs started to tremble. I bent one knee (an old trick learned in junior high school choir - thanks, Mr. Taylor!) and relaxed the other leg. Switched legs and prayed: "Jesus, help me. I just want to thank God and do a good job for the Moyer Foundation. Help me get through this. I don't want to cause a scene. Help me." I looked for the people at my table, and figured that at least one of them (my mom) would be praying with me.

My legs stopped trembling. I felt calm. The signal came for me to walk up on stage. I did it.

The lights were very bright. I saw myself, out of the corner of my eye, on the huge video screens. Bad idea! So I looked at my notes, and began to tell the story - the five-minute version - of our cancer journey, describing the Hutch School experience and the other blessings that the Moyer Foundation supports. I was aware of photos of Katie flashing on the video screens, but decided not to look. I had to focus on what I was saying, and try to look around the room, to make eye contact with the audience.

Toward the end, I found the Moyers. They had been seated right in front of me all along, but the lights were so bright that I couldn't see them. Karen was leaning on Jamie.

I finished. I stepped down from the stage. Steve Raible shook my hand. The Moyers came up and hugged me very warmly. Karen walked me back to my table, with her arm around me. She is just so kind.

Afterward, I was able to meet the Metcalfs, the parents of Erin Metcalf, who was the inspiration for Camp Erin. Camp Erin is a nationwide camp for grieving children that was created and funded by the Moyer Foundation. The Metcalfs were very gracious and understanding. I saw people from many of the departments that I had been able to mention: Seattle Children's Hospital's Foundation, Hematology/Oncology department, Childlife; Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center, and others. I am so grateful that I was able to use words to paint a picture, to raise awareness and support for these wonderful entities and the people who staff them.

I can't write a huge check for my favorite causes, but if my words can move others to do so, it's worth dealing with my shaky legs and discomfort to help make that happen. I'm willing; I just need a little rest in between times! So I'm enjoying some quiet days now.

For Linda: Directions to Katie's Bench, Liberty Bay Park

Here is a google map link that shows the location of Katie's bench in our town's waterfront park by the marina. I hope it works; I recommend the "satellite" version, if it does. The map also shows the location of our neighbor's new restaurant, Burrata Bistro. I've been there four times now, and every time, it's great! [This photo is of the Kvelstad Pavilion, which is next to Katie's bench.]

I am so glad that we have a bench in this park with Katie's name on it. It's a very pretty place, one that we enjoyed together countless times when the children were growing up. We have been to many boat rendezvous there, walking the docks, admiring beautiful wooden boats, enjoying the dogs and cats who travel with the boats' owners. We used to walk on the boardwalk, along the shoreline, and down Front Street, peeking in storefronts, browsing in the "used book" store, buying a cookie or a donut in one of the bakeries, seeing people we knew...all of which is part of the beauty of living in a small town, especially one where your dad (and his parents) grew up! We still do this, and it's still fun.

The directions are by request from Linda, who is one of the fantastic physical therapists at Seattle Children's Hospital. I wish I had a photo of Katie with her. Linda worked with Katie many times (when she was an inpatient); Linda's colleagues were also very helpful to Katie and to us, but I want to tell you about Linda, today.

This movie is of Katie, in August of 2006, just one month prior to having any symptoms of illness, two months prior to her diagnosis (and a year before her death). We had walked 3 or 4 miles to get to this place, and had to walk 3 or 4 miles back to our car. No problems, at the time.

When Katie was admitted to the hospital in October, she was considered to be in grave danger...chiefly because the enormous tumor had made its way into her heart. The concern was obviously that it had begun to affect her heart's function, but also that a piece of it could break off and kill her, at any moment. In fact, we were told that the surgery and emergency departments were "aware" of her condition, and were "prepared." This made it problematic to know what was possible for a (recently very active) 11-year-old girl to DO. Enter Linda, who came with her Physical and Occupational Therapy expertise, and helped Katie work on range-of-motion exercises, gave her massage, talked & listened to her.

One of my favorite Linda stories was when the day of David's birthday (November 21) was drawing near. Katie had been in the hospital since October 10, and was not allowed to leave. She wanted to do something for David's birthday, but shopping in the hospital's gift store was not what she had in mind...she wanted to make something. But what? Linda found out that David liked Lemon Bars, and what did she do? She got a box of the Krusteaz cookie mix, brought in a pan and ingredients, and let Katie make David's gift for him. Linda then took the pan of batter, baked it, and delivered it to Katie, so she could present this gift to David as a surprise. It was a real gift of love, made with Katie's own hands...and Linda's insight and thoughtfulness made it possible. I wouldn't have known how to make that happen in a HOSPITAL. That is the kind of care that we received at Seattle Children's Hospital, and Linda, Peggy and their colleagues were a vital part of that caregiving. Thank you, Linda!

One of the families we met while living at Children's Hospital and Ronald McDonald House has been highlighted on the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance website. David attended the Hutch School with their two wonderful sons. Here is a link to their daughter, Maddy's story. It's a very happy one!

Latte & Quilts

Look at this gorgeous boy.

Isn't he handsome? And believe me, he knows it. He is known around here as "the King of Beasts," and sometimes as "Robert Redford," because of his gorgeous blue eyes and that strawberry-blonde fur. He's vain, dominant, and a real character. He's LATTE. (BTW, he came to us with this name; we didn't give it to him. I think it's the Italian word for milk, isn't it?)

Today, I took 13 quilts to Seattle Children's Hospital. The staff is so nice, and they tell me stories about how much the kids like the quilts, while preserving the privacy of their patients. I love knowing that these simple quilts bring comfort to children and parents at a time in their lives that is full of shock and fear. I remember the feelings very, very clearly myself. It means so much to know that the staff can get to know each child, and put the right quilt into his or her hands; that they will have a little touch of "homemade love" with them in the hospital, just for them. I am thankful to my mom for helping me to buy the materials, as well as to MB for all of her help buying fabric and sewing with me. A special "thank you" goes to Rita, who taught me how to make them in the first place (including the original one: Katie's!), and who sews them with me. I couldn't do it without all of you!

For some reason, it was the hardest day I've had, visiting the hospital, since Katie's passing. Usually it makes me feel good to go there, but today, I was having flashbacks. I felt walloped by memories, and decided to spend the minimum amount of time there. I just dropped off the quilts, had a quick chat with Ashley & Jen in Childlife, and left. I lost all of my energy suddenly.

I wonder about this. Because the last 10 months of Katie's life were so intertwined with the hospital, and because the staff was so supportive and helpful, guiding us through the maze that is cancer treatment, I have loved staying connected with them. Now, however, I find I am looking to my good memories of Katie's happy life, before she was sick, whereas the hospital memories are the beginning of the end of her happy life. I was sad today as I drove the familiar route, and recalled all of our trips to the clinic, after she was discharged from inpatient care, checking for complications and recurrence. I always took comfort in the staff's help and any evidence of Katie's progress, but today, I remembered the bad trips: putting numbing cream on her arm to make the blood draws painless, the nausea that came over her as we got closer to the clinic, Katie getting sick in the car or the parking lot, doubled over in a wheelchair, hiding from the world under her quilt, and her sadness over all of it. I just wanted to get out of there, so I did.

I stopped by the Hutch School and gave them some of Katie's books for their library, after visiting the hospital. Katie loved attending the Hutch School with David during the spring of 2007. The staff and students were wonderful to her & David, and we love to support them. They can always use donations.

One more photo of handsome.

Look at that huge tail. It has knocked over wine glasses & decorations; he loves to swish it all over the place.

For some reason, blogger doesn't want to let me separate pargraphs today, so I'm using bold type to highlight points. Maybe it will correct itself tomorrow.

Thanks, Auntie Nadine

Here is a photo that I received yesterday, showing kids wearing some of the sweaters and hats knitted by Auntie Nadine. Look at what a difference her hands are making in the lives of these children.

Nadine is widowed, and in her 80s. She had surgery on her hand, so she prescribed knitting as her physical therapy. In response to her own need, she's producing beauty and comfort; I admire that. She's an inspiration. Besides that, she is good company and as funny as can be.

Doesn't that photo make you smile?

A Good Weekend

I have been longing to post for a while, but we have been on the go. I am finally getting a chance to write, and it feels so good!

Gregg took Friday off from work to be with me (my real birthday gift), and we had a great day. We slept in, took a walk here, did a little yard work, had a great lunch, took another beautiful walk (this one on the Island), stopped in to a local restaurant for a strawberry daiquiri (me) and a beer (him) with the world's best salsa and chips, and came home for a quiet dinner. I love to spend time with him; he's great company.

On Saturday, we visited our friend, Dave, whose wife, Cary, just passed away. We had a good visit with him. Then we left his home to go and pick up our David at the airport, on his way home from Big Bear Sports Ranch. It was great to hear all about his adventures there. That evening, I had another "going-away party" to attend for MB, so the boys played tennis together while I was out.

On Sunday, we had a "clam feed" here, with my parents. We all love to eat little tiny steamer clams with melted butter, and Gregg prepares a garlic and white wine broth for cooking them that makes a wonderful clear soup afterwards. He steamed the clams and some corn on the cob (separately), my mom made a salad, I made the daiquiris and hors d'oeuvres, and we sat out on the deck and stayed as cool as possible. It was the true beginning of summer, as far as I am concerned. Both David and Katie have loved clam and fresh Dungeness crab dinners like this one since they were small children. We have wonderful memories of these times, just as I did with my family when I was a little girl, spending the summers at our cabin. I love carrying on those traditions, and though I am grieving the fact that Katie isn't here to enjoy this with us now, I am grateful that she did get to enjoy times like these, practically every summer of her life.

While David had his flying lesson yesterday, Maribeth and I were up at our favorite beach for one last beachcombing "fling" before she moves to Kansas. I packed our lunch, and we started our drive to the beach. I had checked the tide chart days ahead of time, and this day had a really low tide. However, as we were on our way across the Hood Canal floating bridge, a Trident submarine was on its way out to sea. The bridge had to open to allow it to pass through, so all traffic came to a standstill, for about half an hour. If you have never seen one of these subs, it is an awesome sight.

By the time we reached our destination, the tide wasn't as low as we expected, but we decided to go for it. We beachcombed, hiked out 3 or 4 miles, and had our lunch. We kept trying to see what the tide was doing, looking at our familiar landmarks and trying to figure out why it wasn't as low as it should have been (according to the chart). We did more beachcombing, and decided to head back. The tide had come in a long way...and in a few places, we had to climb over fallen trees in order to avoid wading.

Then we came to the landslides at the base of the cliffs, and had to decide to climb, or wade; we climbed. [This is an old photo, which shows part of the cliff and beach; the slides are not visible, as they are farther out, where the cliff is even taller.]

It was a hoot! This is what David and Katie LOVED to do: climb the landslides (which are really big piles of sand that have sloughed off of the cliffs), and "ski" down

them on their bare feet. Gregg and I used to beachcomb while the kids did this.

I thought, "The kids would love to see us doing this." Maribeth and I were laughing and making our way, calling it an adventure. It was not an emergency, and we were not in any danger; we just needed to keep a steady pace. We got back to the car just as the tide made its way up to the bulkheads that protect the toe of the land.

Note: When we got home, we consulted the chart again, and concluded that it must have been calculated for a different location. I have never been caught or stranded on a beach, and I hope I never will; I'm not a novice at this! We have great respect for the power of nature; the saying, "Time and tide wait for no man" is true.

Today, David and I went to Bainbridge to meet our friends from the Hutch School. When the regular school year is over, the Hutch offers a summer camp for the children and siblings of patients being treated at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (the U of W, Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center and Children's Hospital). We were happy to find out that they were taking the ferry over from Seattle to have a picnic on the Island, so we took our lunches and visited & played with them. What a wonderful staff. This is a photo of David and Katie with them, on the last day of school in June, 2007:

If you are looking for a charity to support, look up the Hutch School, and find out what they do; they are fantastic. David loved attending school at the Hutch while Katie was in treatment for cancer, and when Katie was feeling well enough, she loved attending, too.

Thank you for all that you do for families and patients, Micheline, Maggie, Ann Marie and all of the Hutch staff!

My First Meme

Just Believe tagged me with a meme recently, and it's my first time. No jokes, please.

Here is how it goes: Think back on the last 15 years of your life. What would you tell someone that you hadn't seen or talked to for 15 years? How would you sum up your life? You get 10 bullet points. A list of 10 things to summarize you. At the end of your list, tag 5 more people and send on the love.

1. Fifteen years ago, in 1993, I had been married to Gregg for 2 years, and was very, very happy with him (still am). I was a new mother, and nearly 34 years old; David was 6 months old. I quit my job in Public Finance just before he was born, which was a big adjustment. I was working one day a week, at my family's business in Bellevue. It was a long commute, but it got me out of the house, using my brain, and I earned a bit of money. I also did bookkeeping for my grandmother (paying her bills).

2. We lived in a little spec-house on Hood Canal at that time. We loved the view of the Olympic Mountains so much, and the oysters and sandy beach out in front. It was a lifelong dream of mine to live by the water, as we had lived in our summer cabin when I was a little girl. Gregg and I felt this was a wonderful place to have a family.

3. I went through a spiritual crisis, after David was born via Caesarian section. Being raised as a Christian Scientist, having surgery was a HUGE shock to me, and it really rocked my world. I spent alot of time and energy trying to figure out what the heck had happened. After Katie was born (the traditional way, not Caesarian) in 1995, a dear friend and mentor of mine passed away. I had to look outside of the paradigm for answers, and began to attend a conservative Christian Bible study. Bible study led to a "conversion" experience for me; I joined a Presbyterian church, decided to be baptized, and have our children baptized, too. I am not a conservative Christian, so I ended up quitting that Bible study class, but I got a great deal from it and loved the hearts of the women in it. I joined a more wide-ranging Bible class at my church.

4. We traveled to Europe (France and Italy) twice -- with my parents, without the kids. Wonderful, exciting, fun, thrilling adventures to share with Gregg, Mom and Dad. Gregg and I both love to travel, and we discovered on these trips that we travel really well as a pair. Fantasies of retirement travels began to develop...We also go to Palm Desert annually with the children to visit my parents in the wintertime.

5. I quit my jobs (working for my family business and grandmother), and got a job working at an executive search and outplacement firm, as the bookkeeper, and then the finance manager. I worked 2 days a week, could walk to the office from the ferry in downtown Seattle, and loved the freedom, autonomy and the income.

6. During this time, we decided that our house was getting pretty small for the four of us, so we bought a piece of property on the other side of town, facing east, on Puget Sound. We sold our house on Hood Canal, and began to build the house in which we now live. While doing this, we moved into a rental house that my mother still calls "le dungeon." Not a great place, but the only thing we could find with 3 bedrooms and a yard. We were subsequently swindled by our builder, fired them, and had to sue them to get the court to overturn the [false] lien that they put on our house. Then we had to borrow from Gregg's 401K to continue building. We hired a new builder and spent our weekends working on the house. Major strain on both of us.

7. My maternal grandmother passed away at 96 years of age on January 10, 2000. Her legacy helped us to repay our 401K loan and finish the house, and allowed me to quit my job. We moved into our house in March. Gregg's aunt and uncle (his mother's twin brother) were killed by a drunk driver in a car accident the night before Father's Day. Horrendous and shattering. A double funeral.

8. After completing 6 months of training, I became a Stephen Minister at my church. Went on my first Women's Retreat in 2001 and met my Quad Sisters. On September 12th of 2001, Gregg and I were planning to take our first trip to Europe together by ourselves, to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. I was excited to go, but felt uneasy about it all summer long. During the night of September 10-11th, I had a nightmare of a ball of fire rolling down the aisle of the business-class cabin of our plane. I awoke, terrified, in the middle of the night and thought, How am I going to board that plane on the 12th? And then the 11th dawned, and changed our world. I was terrified for months. I ended up having a partial hysterectomy, instead of a trip to Europe.

9. I began Spiritual Direction and studied the writings of many new spiritual teachers. Learned about contemplative prayer, Buddhism, Catholicism and mysticism. Took up Pilates and tried the South Beach Diet. Formed an informal supper club with two other couples. Enjoyed more independence and loved my job as a stay-at-home wife and mother immensely. Volunteered at my kids' schools. Fought with the school district over boundaries and teacher issues. Volunteered to help with teacher awards and school funding. Walked alongside my friend Diane as she dealt with terminal cancer and passed away.

10. In October of 2006, during her first weeks of attending a new, private school, my beautiful, strong, healthy daughter Katie was diagnosed with cancer...adrenocortical carcinoma, very rare and very advanced. The four of us moved to Seattle, and lived at Ronald McDonald House and Children's Hospital with her. She endured 5 rounds of chemo and an 18-hour surgery, 6 weeks of recovery and was able to return home with us in April of 2007. She tried her best to pick up her life, attending the Hutch School (named for the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center) with David, taking a maintenance chemo medication and going frequently to the Hem-Onc clinic to be monitored. The summer was up and down, with the "up" being Camp Goodtimes and Andrea and Mike's wedding; the downs were her moods, her fatigue and soreness. The bottom was finding out that her cancer was back, and was terminal. She passed away on August 16, 2007. We have been trying to learn to live without her presence since then. We have also started an Endowment in her name at the hospital, and we spoke at a benefit over the summer; between those two things, we helped raise over $160,000 for Children's Hospital. I now make quilts for the patients in the Hematology-Oncology ward. We are grieving, and we are living the life that we have been given, with as much love and gratitude as we can.

I will tag Sheri, Karla, Diane W. , Laurie and Susie. I hope you have fun with this; I did!

WWW>ADD?

I wonder if I am developing some form of ADD. Maybe it comes from being on the WWWeb more than I ever have. I don't know. But I have done alot of moving back and forth from one thing to another lately. Today, I exercised, washed clothes, folded clothes, ironed fabric, cut and pinned fabric, sewed a little, made dinner, did the dishes, and am now trying to decide if I should sew more or fold more laundry. As you can see, I am doing neither. It's not very interesting in itself, but the switching back and forth is the thing I'm wondering about. I noticed that I did it all day, in the midst of the chores. Maybe some of it started in the hospital, with all of the interruptions, all of the time, around the clock. Maybe my attention span is shrinking. Maybe my brain is misfiring.

Lest you think I am just "an old scullery maid," I also had a massage today. Our friend, Joanne, is a fabulous person and a fabulous masseuse, who works right in the neighborhood. I can walk to my massage and home again. It was a healing gift, as always, and for those of you who wonder how you can help a friend who is in crisis (or even just going through a bad patch), consider giving her a gift certificate for a massage. My family did this for me when we were in the hospital last year, and it was a great help. Our church provided meals when we were at home and swamped with medical responsibilities (and deep in the first days of grief). Those were so helpful. It's hard to tell people what I need, because I usually think, "I can do it myself," or "I don't need it," or that someone else needs it more than I do. But sometimes you do need help, and you deserve it. If you are a person in need right now, I hope you will let others lend you a hand. It makes people feel better if they can do something to help you.

I have something wonderful to tell you. A man who met David last year in Seattle (his daughter was at The Hutch School with David, while his son was in treatment at SCCA for cancer) recently signed Katie's Caringbridge guestbook. (I am thankful to be able to say that his son is in remission.) This dear man shared a memory of David playing the piano for his daughter at school, and said that David's playing had sparked her love of Phantom of the Opera, and that they had just been to see it on stage. I told David about it, and what do you think happened? David started playing the piano again, for the first time in MONTHS. David has a natural love for music, and he has enjoyed the piano from the beginning of his lessons. Gregg and I both loved hearing the children play, especially as their own styles developed.

Katie never wanted to learn to read music, so she memorized her pieces; she had artistic talent, and put her own interpretation into the music. David was diligent about practicing, learned to read music and made rapid and steady progress. While we were in Seattle last year, he had little access to a piano, and rarely played when he did. After Katie passed away, he chose not to resume his lessons, and stopped playing altogether.

It is lovely to hear him working on his favorite music again, patiently playing until he remembers what he has forgotten. The energy it creates in the house is so nice. It reminds me of the days when I was growing up, listening to my brother practice piano and guitar. I am hoping to persuade David to start taking lessons again this summer...It's time to take a moment to thank Grandma and Kappa for giving the kids the gift of the lessons for so many years, and for helping us to buy our piano.

Another change of subject (ADD?):

This photo is a great example of Katie showing some "attitude." She is holding David's bear, who is named "Katie Bear." When Katie was born, a friend of mine sent the bear to David, knowing that Katie would be receiving lots of gifts as the newest member of the family. David named it "Katie Bear," which shows you what a nice guy he is, and always has been. Sibling rivalry wasn't his issue; he actually named his bear after his new sister!

Here is one of my favorite photos of best friends, just because.

And here are a few more.

Chicken Breasts

I don't know how to explain it, but my brain is working in some strange ways these days.

On Monday, we had a visit from the Willetts, a family we met at Ronald McDonald House last year. Mandi attended the Hutch School with David; her little sister, Samantha, was the patient, (and is now in remission from leukemia). Their mom, Karla, is a nurse. Sammi has a Caringbridge page (www.caringbridge.org/visit/samanthaspage) and Karla has a blog (A Little Something to Share, to which you can find a link on the right side of this page). She drove them down to see us, as it is Mandi's spring break this week (Karla's husband, Mike, wasn't with them). I am going to post a few of Karla's photos, since she took all of the pictures.

We spent time on our beach and in our woods. They all enjoyed the rope swing. We showed them around Poulsbo, visited Katie's bench and the local bakery, shops and candy store. Then we came back to have dinner with Gregg, who was home from work by then.

Karla and I got into a discussion about the need for research into new methods of treating cancer. We both know of cases of patients dying from the side effects of treatment, as well as from the disease itself. We were talking about possible causes of cancer, too, and wondering about vaccinations, our food chain, pesticides, hormones fed to the animals that we eat, etc. I mentioned the hormones in milk, and how the milk cows are constantly lactating. Karla brought up hormones in chickens. I asked, "Don't they lay an egg every day, anyway?" She said, "I mean the size of their breasts." Now, we had just been discussing cows and milk, so I am thinking: udders. I asked, "Chickens have breasts?" Everyone at the table stopped and stared at me. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment; they were looking at me as if I had completely lost my mind. Then the "aha" moment arrived. Oh. Chicken breasts. Like thighs and drumsticks. Mandi and David turned pink, and laughed. Gregg and Karla laughed harder, and I think I laughed the hardest of all.

Menopause? Middle age? Chemo-brain by osmosis (from caring for a patient living with chemo)? Stress? Trauma? I don't know, but I am glad that I can laugh about it. Please feel free to have a laugh at my expense.

A day off from school

Friday, David had a day off from school. He decided, some weeks ago, that he wanted to return to the Hutch School for a visit, and then go to Children's Hospital to see doctors, nurses, and other staff who meant a great deal to us during our time there. We had been advised that some families find this very difficult, but he had been looking forward to it very much.

We took the ferry over in the morning, walked up to the Hutch School and visited with some of the staff there. They are a wonderful group. If you are looking for a school to support, that is a great one. They are so understanding of what the kids and their families are going through, and are truly supportive. They also provide a great educational experience.

After that visit, we took a shuttle to the hospital, so that David could show me first-hand what his experience was like commuting to and from the school during those days. We went up to Hem-Onc the clinic, and spoke with Dr. Park (Katie's oncologist) as well as Julie and Tanya (our ChildLife and Social Worker, respectively). We saw nurses who have helped us along the way. Then David's friend, Storm, met us and we went to lunch at one of David's favorite places, Metro Market, next to Ronald McDonald House. [This was part of David's Seattle routine that he enjoyed: he would get a sandwich (to take to school) and a smoothie each morning, and then meet me at the hospital. He and I would then have breakfast together before he caught the shuttle to the Hutch School, and I would return to Katie's room to spend the day with her.]

It was great to see Storm. We met him and his family in the hospital last fall, and got to know them when we all lived at Ronald McDonald House. I will tell you a bit about him: he is polite, interesting, fun, a skilled skateboarder, and the best brother anyone could ask for. His sister Madysen's caringbridge site is: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/madysen. We had a nice lunch, and then a chat with his mom, brother and sister, before they left. We returned to the hospital for more "rounds" of visiting. Since Katie had been in the SCCA, ICU, CICU and Surgery wards, we had a number of places to go in order to see everyone David wanted to see...and we even missed some of them.

Gregg met us at the hospital, and then we went to the University Village for a bit of browsing and dinner. Since this was "David's day," we let him decide where we would eat. His choice: Blue C Sushi. After dinner, we drove to the ferry, and home.

It was a good day for David; he rated it an 8.5 on a scale of 1-10. It was a day of mixed emotions for me; I found myself exhausted at the end of it. I love the people at the hospital who loved and cared for Katie. It is a community of people who understand what we have been through. They know how to deal with us. There is no artifice there, and there is such real love, caring and generosity of spirit. For those reasons, I love being there, and even feel that I want to return someday to help others. But right now, it also brings back feelings of futility and enormous loss. I don't know when I would be ready to return, or able to help others, since my loss is so fresh and so very raw and painful. So I will wait and see what feels right.

This morning, David went golfing with my dad, Gregg went running and I slept in. I got up, sat on the couch with my coffee, read some devotional writings, read some Kubler-Ross, wrote in my journal, and just cried and cried. It was a relief, but it even hurts to cry. I can't explain that. It hurts to "go there," to reflect on the feelings that are always under the surface of my mind. It is so hard to adjust to living without Katie. She and I became so very close this year; we were almost always together. I miss her personality; I miss her take on life. I wish I could still help her, mother her, be with her. It is so hard not to be able to give her my love in the small acts of daily living. There are so many things that I wanted to do for her, give to her, share with her. I thought we would have time for those things, throughout our lives.

I thought she was going to have a break, a time of reasonably good health and some fun. She deserved a reward for all that she went through, trying to get well. I thought, If we can just get this horrible tumor out of her, she will have a second chance! I really did have great hope after she survived that surgery. I got used to being her amateur nurse, her buddy, her confidant, her assistant. I love her sense of humor. I miss it, even the jokes at my expense (see the photo for the typical 12-year-old expression). There are so many things that remind me of what I am missing, so many times a day. I don't mean this in a "poor me" sense; I mean "it's hard to do everyday things, normally" because I seem to see a reminder of this loss everywhere around me. Since I am a full-time mom, one-half of my job is gone. Think about it.

This might help to explain why a simple thing, such as grocery shopping, can be a real trial. I stay home alot. It is peaceful here, and I feel less likely to offend someone without meaning to do so if I minimize my social activities right now. It can all wait.

We watched "The Pursuit of Happyness" last night. It was very well done, well-acted, well-thought-out, and it taught me some things. It gave me a new perspective on hardship, and how much perseverance it can take for some people to get out of a hole in their lives, through no fault of their own. The scenes in the homeless shelter made me grateful again for Ronald McDonald House. Hardship comes in many forms in this world. Thank God there are people who want to help when they are able to. Ronald McDonald House is a true haven, as are shelters, for different reasons, but there are parallels between them. Thanks to all of those who volunteer to help, and thanks to those in helping professions, such as doctors, nurses, childlife and social workers. Your gifts make a better world.