Spring Has Sprung

I was at the beach today and although it was a little windy the sun was great and the air felt great and the ocean was beautiful as usual. The forecast is for ten days without rain and with temperatures in the lower to upper 70s. Merrie is coming for the week and she is a sun worshipper, so it is perfect for her. It is clear it is spring because my blue car is yellow and I just had it washed. Everyone I know opens the conversation with a comment about their sinuses. My morning wheezing wakes me about the same time as the alarm. Yup it is spring. I'm not complaining by the way, it is just a reminder that even our favorite things need for us to overlook some complications. I'd rather have the unpleasant changes that spring brings then to have only one season. Pick anything and you can find the down side if you want to. You can also find the good in even a bad life if you want to. My life with Marsha was a blessing and losing her is a tremendous loss, but if I look for the positive I would rather she go first and leave me to grieve than the other way around. I have more things to fill my life than she had, and filling time was really important this past year. Why do we want to look at the worst and not the best. I still love spring you know.

Conscience

Today was a traditional day in the life of an Episcopal priest. In my experience sometime during Holy Week the clergy of the diocese meet for a service in which the bishop blesses the holy oils used for baptism and healing. The clergy also celebrate Eucharist together and here a sermon of encouragement for their ministry as priests and deacons in the life of the church. In normal times it is a time of bonding where those who share a similar calling by God are united in celebration of the vocation to which they are all called in service to Christ. I have experienced many such services in my years as a priest in Massachusetts. Some of my brothers and sisters would not attend the gathering in the Diocese of Massachusetts because they could no longer vow "to solemnly engage to conform to the doctrine, disciple, and worship of the Episcopal Church". It was a matter of conscience that they stayed away from the service. Although I had problems with the direction of the Episcopal Church I was not prevented from participation by my conscience. Today in South Carolina I attended this same event for the first time. The picture is of my first time in the Cathedral of St. Paul & St. Luke in Charleston South Carolina. Once again the service was meaningful and the sermon was perfect. After Eucharist and the blessing of oils the bishop allowed those who could not participate in the renewal of ordination vows to leave with the recessional hymn, while those of us who were able in good conscience to renew our vows stayed with the bishop for the traditional renewal of vows. The fact that priests that I know and love in both Massachusetts and South Carolina that could not participate in conscience point out a sad reality of our life in these times. Sad or not,one thing I know is that if we don't honor our conscience we are in danger of sliding into a life that lacks integrity. I also know that we are called to love everyone not just those with whom we agree. Living in both realities is the greatest challenge, but God never said it was going to be easy.

Palm Sunday

I have attended many Palm Sunday services. Every year I would take home the palms and they would be in the house to remind me of the triumphal entry of Jesus my King. On some occasions I would get a cross from someone made from the palms and I always liked that. This year I was given the most beautiful of all the palm crosses I have ever received from a teenage girl at church.

On Saturday I was at Camp St. Christopher to share in a Cursillo team meeting. I'm not on this particular team but because I am on the next one and Cursillo in this diocese is new to me I was invited to attend. I had free time during the day when some specific groupings were meeting. As I walked around the camp which is filled with many palm trees and palmetto vegetation. I could visualize the people around the Mount of Olives cutting off or breaking off palm branches as Jesus came by. Although palms are not majestic like the giant redwoods of Muir Woods or the spectacular trunk and cover of a very old live oak, they are majestic in their own right. Perhaps it is the association I have with Palm Sunday and the sign of His royalty, but walking among the camp palms is beautiful and spiritual.

Todays celebration of Palm Sunday seemed more realistic after being in that place among the palms.

Withdrawal

I know about being addicted to nicotine. I was a very heavy smoker who tried and tried to quit only to fail again and again. Often I would go for hours only to be hit by such intense bodily discomfort that I was driven back to a cigarette. High in the mountains in 1979 without a cigarette and without anyone with me who smoked I went through the withdrawal with tremendous difficulty. Well the church has been taking up my time for days now with much travel and no break. I have church tomorrow also and I'm fearful that golf withdrawal will set in. What an ugly sight that might be if I start swinging my arms wildly in the middle of the service. Or maybe while handing out communion I get caught up and my mind starts to wander and I just stop and stare at the green grass out the window. I'm getting embarrassed just thinking about it. It's a good thing I'm really hooked on God more than golf, and I'm not worried about withdrawal there. For where can I go where he is not there to meet me. I do love golf though.

Chruch

You probably would have guessed this already, but I love church. I even like some of the buildings. When I see the body of Christ the church acting like the Body of Christ I am always filled with hope. One of the best witnesses to Christ happens when the church, the people of God, treat one another in a Christian fashion. We can see wrong behavior everywhere around us in the world. We find people greedily grabbing things for themselves, and people hurting others at every turn. It is not hard to find examples of people abusing power and position for their own purposes, but we hope not to see the same in the church. Today I felt the pain of Christian brothers and sisters who stood by their principles knowing they were in a slim minority in the meeting. I had been in that position many times in the past when I was the one in the minority. Today however I felt no spirit of anger or hatred in the room aimed at that small minority. I even saw clear acts of compassion. The church may never, until we stand before Christ in His heavenly kingdom, agree about everything and even some important things, but we are still commanded to treat one another with love, respect and dignity. To me that would show the world the real church. That church could change the world. Can we find enough Christ in our hearts to live as the real church forever? I hope so, but maybe I'm just a Christian dreamer.

Boasting

The past few days have been filled with conversations about God & grace. Sometimes I feel funny when I share some of my past experiences. It can feel like boasting. It is not that the experiences are not real or that they are even exaggerated. The true real accurate experiences are all I need to share. God has shown me astounding things.In the discussions that have occurred around boasting we concluded that it is boasting if you telling of your own accomplishments and you let others know that the it simply is the result of your human ability or greatness. It is witness if what you share makes clear that it could not have happened by your own ability but rather required the grace of God to have happened. God does not empower us to be channels of grace for extraordinary results so we will keep them a secret. God wants the world to know everything that his grace can accomplish. It would be boasting if somehow anyone thought they were special and that God would not do the same things through any willing person who is in relationship with Christ. Oh that we all would boast of the great things God has done for us. Oh that we all would boast of the great things God has done through us.

Love Never Ends

The picture is of Marsha and I when we went on a cruise in the Caribbean. I can think of so many situations where I can claim precious moments with Marsha. I was telling Bekah yesterday about some of the most transformative moments in our marriage. In may ways they prove that love never ends because they are as real to me today as on the days they actually happened. I have felt such meaningful love in other situations as well. Not even just with Marsha. I have experienced it on Cursillos and in reunion groups and in churches and in my family nuclear and extended, and as a priest and as a widower and elsewhere as well. What I am saying is that when we experience love it does not end. It persists no matter what. My Cursillo ended, my reunion group no longer meets, some of my family nuclear and extended are not regularly part of my daily life and yet the love remains. I can remember many moments in my life when I really felt loved and they never fades. I return to them like a watering hole in the desert whenever I feel that unquenchable thirst. Clearly the most important is the love that Marsha showered on me, but I want to be clear that real love from any source is a copy of God's love and never ends. Isn't that the best. Love never ends we always take it to go!!

What Can You Say

I will get to an account of the day, but today is the one year anniversary of the death of Marsha Lynne Beard Boynton an amazing person. I have done sermons and eulogies for many people and I even said some things at the services we held for Marsha, but she defied description in so many ways. You see she was everything good to me. You see I write that and immediately it feels like what happens when anyone dies they become Saint So & So. I'm not overlooking Marsha's humanity any more than she overlooked mine. One part of the everything good was that she wouldn't settle for less than my best. She was intelligent, humorous, generous of spirit, generous of time, compassionate and passionate, honest to a fault, dedicated to children and young people, a real professional, charming and yet in many ways shy, the best partner a man could have, surprisingly elegant, loving in ways that aren't just a cliche, a true Christian woman who measured herself against high standards, I could go on but you get the idea. What can you say when God has given you forty five years to share with a treasure like that. I was blessed and I know it doesn't seem sufficient. So I'll just leave it at the trite but true. She was everything to me. I still love you honey.

I woke up last year on this date at my usual time. Marsha was on two medicines given by eyedropper as hospice medication so I prepared the two and went in and she didn’t wake up as she swallowed the two. Leaving her sleeping comfortably I dressed and went for my morning walk around the community. I was back at home about 7 AM and my daughter said that Marsha was struggling to breathe and seemed in pain. We had promised Marsha she would not be in pain but when I went in I didn’t think she was in pain. I suggested to Merrie that if she was concerned she could call the hospice nurse and she did, leaving a voice message. Before 7:30 AM the nurse called back and spoke with Merrie with the result that the pain medication could be doubled without any problem. I prepared the second dose and went to the bedroom to give them to Marsha and she was gone. I got into bed and just held her for some time and said prayers and said goodbye before I went out and told Merrie that she had passed away. People got up and the hospice nurse was called, Jim Burney, our friend, was called as he was picking up Marsha’s body for the funeral home and the rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity making phone calls and talking to people. We had to get Laura to Myrtle Beach and talk to the church about a service. It seemed like a dream in may ways. How could she be gone? How could I be a widower? I did know what Marsha wanted so the service was easy to plan, but the rest was just an aching movement through the things that need to happen. I say aching at the same time that I would say numb, because although I was emotionally hurting, it was not as bad as I would have thought. I was strangely at peace in the midst of it all. I was so glad that I had the family with me. We are scattered from top to bottom on the east coast and if they had all returned home leaving me alone at the time of Marsha’s passing I would have found it much more difficult. Perhaps that was Marsha;s last gift to me. Each of us deal with death a little differently and our relationships with Marsha were a little different so we each went into our mode of coping and we gave one another space to do that pretty well I thought. In the end it was a long emotional roller coaster of a day, but I was happy for Marsha. She did not suffer and I knew where she was going and I live with such pride for how she lived. At the end of the day I was amazed that I went right to sleep and slept well. I thought I would have difficulty but I did not.

March 22nd

This was the day of the last kiss. We didn't expect things to happen quickly from what the hospice nurse had said, and Marsha had help with the family that was there so I think I went to church in the morning. Marsha did not like for me to stay home because of her and she had made that plain over and over. With Marsha God came first then family. The rest of the day has a kind of vagueness to it. As far as my life was concerned it was another day of taking care of Marsha and that had become a routine part of my life. Family was in the house and Dave & Pat a little bit but nothing unusual was happening. The most important part of the day from my point of view was that Marsha talked with Cassandra who was still in Maine on the phone. She also spoke with Laura who was in Wisconsin but Laura had been here for a week so that was not the same as Cassie. I think Cassie was the last piece of Marsha's to do list. It was emotional for all who heard her saying goodbye to Cassie and once more expressing her love for her. I know Marsha and I were never sure how well Cassie knew that we loved her exactly the same as we loved the others. Marsha wanted her to know that in the worst way and yet she doubted that Cassie really understood, so this was an important good bye from Marsha's standpoint. I didn't know until this summer that Marsha had the same conversation later that day with both my son and my daughter. In both cases Marsha asked, "Is there anything I need to do for you before I go?". I both cases the answer was no nothing. My son said a little later that evening that he thought she was going to go that night and I didn't know why, but it was because of that conversation. She knew I was ready when she was, but she needed to check with her kids. Marsha had settled earlier that night than the rest of us. I kissed her goodnight for the last time not knowing it was going to be the last time. She was sick and she was tired so it was a quick peck of a kiss not the kind you want to remember as saying goodbye to a lifelong lover. I would have gotten into bed and held her and kissed her if I had known but I didn't. I have so may pictures like the one above. It seemed like a lot of people would catch us kissing in one place or another, and I loved to kiss my Marsha, but the last kiss, I wish I had known.

Home For The Last Time

March 21, 2009 I started the day picking up my son and grandson at the airport on the early Spirit flight from Boston, then we were off to the hospital to see Marsha. Merrie and Bekah had arrived last night so they headed for the hospital with Dottie. I stayed for only a few minutes at the hospital because I had to go to the pharmacy and pick up the hospice drug pack. Dave & Pat stayed at the house because they were bringing the hospital bed and other things that hospice had ordered and someone needed to be there to receive them. The morning at the hospital was frustrating. All we were waiting for was the discharge papers and it seemed like an eternity, We finally abandoned the hospital room for a sun room so we would be more obvious in our waiting. We were supposed to be home to meet the hospice nurse and that was most important. My son does not do well with hospitals and being the first time he had seen his mother sick he wanted out. I had seen enough of hospitals with Marsha and I wanted out. Marsha had not wanted to go into the hospital anyway and she wanted out. I'm not saying we were impatient or anything, but man were we impatient. When we saw the doctor who was to discharge her we thought that would be it, but then we had to wait for a nurse to complete the paperwork. We did manage to get home and the hospice nurse came along with Beebe Smith a parishioner who works for Incare Hospice and Jeff Wallace the hospice chaplain also with Incare both of whom we knew from our Surfside parish. Everything to do with the hospice care went perfectly as planned. The nurse was pleasant and professional. The house was full and confusing but she moved within the confusion and accomplished everything we needed with clear instructions about the days and weeks to come. After all that was done the rest of the day was spent in just a relaxed kind of visiting mode with some anxiety in the air but good to be all together. Last item for the day was saying goodbye to Dottie who flew home that night. She knew it would be the last time she saw her sister and Marsha knew that as well. I can't even begin to explain the whirlwind of emotions in that day. I was so happy the plan worked and Dana and Forrest had gotten to see Marsha. I was glad Merrie and Bekah had arrived and felt sorry for Laura who could not come. I worried about Cassie who was not here and had not seen Marsha, and they had not as yet connected even by phone. Personally I was up and down and over and out and just rolling with the day. Marsha never slept in the hospital bed so we went to bed as usual together in our own bed. Marsha went earlier than I and I was exhausted when at last I hit the bed.

Back To A Hospital

Last year on this date Marsha was in worse shape than yesterday. Her breathing was more difficult and she felt like she could not catch her breath at all. She was scheduled for an Oncology appointment so we went with a desire to find a solution. Once again they said she had fluid and that her oxygen levels were drastically low. They said if she did not go to the hospital she probably would not make it through the night, and Marsha said she was not going to the hospital. She decided she was going to have hospice care and no more doctors or hospitals and they said that was impossible at four o'clock on a Friday afternoon. I made a call to our parish contacts who worked for hospice and hospice was in place for Saturday morning. Then I insisted she go to the hospital overnight because she was not going to die before our son and grandson could get there. Dottie and I took the long ride to Wacamaw Hospital with a very impatient Marsha. After almost forcing her out of the car at the hospital Dottie stayed with her while I sped home and called my son and changed his airline tickets to the next morning. I called Merrie and Bekah and other family members, and returned to the hospital where they were using medication in an attempt to rid her of some of the fluid. She was stabalized and up in a room by about 8 PM and Dottie and I went home. Dana's flight was do in about 8:30 AM Saturday. It was clear at this point that we were entering the end game of her illness, and I struggled to sleep which is unusual for me. I had faced the reality of her impending death but I thought it was going to be further away than this.

Emergency Visit

The day started in a normal fashion but soon it was clear that Marsha was having difficulty breathing. We called her oncologist and we were told to bring her into the office in Conway. We proceeded to get her ready and off to the office where they said that her oxygen levels were very low and that she had fluid on her lung again. They suggested we call for an ambulance and so we did. She was taken a mile down the road to Conway Hospital and we met her at the emergency room. It was a frustrating experience as it was nothing but delays and after finally seeing a doctor he told us that she did not have fluid on her lung and after hours gave her more medication instead. It was hours for Dottie and I and Dave & Pat joined us and I think it was hours for them as well. The medication did make Marsha sleepy and she was comfortable on the ride home and went to bed and seemed to have a good night. The confusion between what the oncologist said and the doctor in the emergency room gave me some anxiety. I had really had a lot of confidence in the oncologist's office and this made me wonder if they should be trusted as much as I had been trusting them. It is not good to be second guessing your doctor.

Dottie Was With Me

I have made a whirlwind trip to Delray Beach Florida and back this week and internet access was limited. I did get on their computer once and made a small blog but travel and exhaustion kept me from some days. This week last year I was lucky to have Dottie with me. Marsha was not doing particularly well. It was difficult to get her to get dressed or to shower or to do any of the things she would never have neglected if she was well. Partly she did not want help and she knew she couldn't do it herself. I managed to do just enough to help her into the shower without looking one day, but eventually she relented and let Dottie help her. I'm someone who people say brings a calming influence to many situations, but Dottie was definitely a calming influence in these days. She was not only helpful with Marsha, she was helpful to me. She gave me space when I needed it, and yet she was available for some just relaxed conversation. Marsha had gotten to the place where relaxed pleasant conversation was not possible. Not doing well meant she was needy in so many ways. This very strong independent woman that I had been married to for so long was now a shell of herself. It seemed like she could accomplish nothing on her own except sleep and that was limited at best. Dottie really helped both of us for this week. I know she loved her sister and I know she loves me and that showed in her care for both of us. I know I thanked her many times for what she did, but I don't think I could have thanked her enough. She and Pat (my friend next door) even found time to support one another. Just another way that God provided what I needed. Some of what I needed was internal and spiritual and some things required a God with skin on. He supplied all of it as was needed one day after another.

More Help

Yesterday I was on the road coming down to Florida to see a friend with very serious cancer so no blog entry. In my remembrance of life I would start with Bekah and I getting Marsha home from the hospital and back settled in our home. I'm not sure that Marsha felt the whole procedure was worth anything. She is weaker and less functioning now with each day. I do have the addition of Dottie returning to be of assistance, and Marsha likes the way Dottie cares for her. Her inability to get comfortable is even now growing daily but not at a problematic level yet. It is growing harder for her and harder for me as I watch. They had said 3-6 months and that does not seem at all likely to me even though we are not in crisis. Reality has been present all along but now it is really setting in. As it is with a typical man I just want to fix it, but from the start I've known that nothing I can do will fix anything. That is the frustrating part. I don't like feeling helpless and yet that is what I am. I'm not despairing for we both know where she is going but I do want to hold on a little longer and I'm knowing that is not to be.

Disappointment & Despair

Bekah, shown in the picture with her proud gramma, is here with me now and reminded me that during her week with us last year things were not good. Marsha had fallen twice that week and was badly bruised. Bekah helped me get Marsha off the floor one night when Marsha had the worst fall. She also had other difficulties that for a woman with the modesty, dignity, and grace of Marsha was horrified by. Laura had spent the week earlier and it was a good week, but Bekah got to witness and be involved in the problems. This date a year ago the three of us headed to Conway for a second chemo treatment. After Marsha went in for the usual pretreatment blood work and check of her vital signs we were told that her red blood count was too low and she needed a transfusion. She was given orders to be admitted to Conway hospital for the procedure and off we went. The wait for a bed was not particularly long by many hospital situations I have seen and soon she was taken to a room. I left Bekah with Marsha because they needed a complete list of medications and that was at home in Myrtle Beach. Marsha was already been bruised in several places from the falls and Bekah watched as they tried and tried to get the IV started. Marsha was in pain as they moved the needle and removed the needle and reinserted the needle without success. Each attempt resulting in more bruises. Bekah called me more than once upset that they could not start the transfusion and worried that they would not be able to do it. I knew from experience that hospitals always have the one exceptional individual that they will find from some other section of the hospital when this kind of difficulty arises. When I got back they had managed to start the transfusion but it was then clear that she was going to have to spend the night. Bekah said yesterday that she was glad she was here to see the bad week because she felt like she helped and she got to connect with the reality more. Looking back with the shared vision of two memories it had been a tough week that I thought was next week. I know I was not in a good place when I went to bed that night. I was emotional drained and although I had been assured that his was not out of the range of normal by the oncologist I was seeing the beginning of the end. Weeping had been a big part of this week when Marsha started being so frail.

Memories

Although the time when Marsha was dying from cancer was filled with many activities related to her illness, it was also a time when we talked about the things we had done, and the places we had been, and the people we knew. We talked about a variety of memories from the forty five years we were together. Today I still reflect on those memories and many more as I go through this time without her physical presence. Sometimes I catch myself smiling and sometimes it is weeping even though the memories are happy ones. Some people act as though sadness is a curse or certainly something to be avoided at all cost. I find I am most sad when I am remembering the very best things about Marsha or the very best times we spent together, or the most important challenges she brought to my life. The only way to avoid the weeping and sadness would be by avoiding the memories. The memories, however, are what I cherish and hold close. I will take all the sad signs of grieving because they occur at the same time that I am remembering my love for Marsha and her love for me. Denial of my emotions would mean denial of the best memories of my life. Today was a little bit of cleaning day. I can't clean the house without seeing all Marsha's things. I can even picture where we got most of them. Last week when I ate at Dave & Pat's house, Pat served the meal on the dishes Marsha gave her when we left Taunton. It reminded me of Marsha, but also of the wonderful trip we had taken for a few days away in Mystic Connecticut. Marsha had wanted some china dishes and we found that complete set in a little shop on Main St. in Mystic. I thought about that trip for days after as first one thing then another came back about how we spent the time, and how much we enjoyed each others company for those few days. I smiled sometimes and I wept at others but I cherished the memories. I wouldn't give that up for anything.

Enough Time

In Ron Greiser's sermon last Sunday one important part was that time is short. During bible study this morning one small focus was that we only have this moment, the present. So many times we live as if we have more than enough time only to end up in these situations where we are convinced we did not have enough time. It's never about enough time, because it's only time. It is a sequential series of moments of indeterminate length and all I have is each moment as it comes. The truth is I had enough time with Marsha. I may regret how I used some of it, but I had enough time. Would I have used the moments I had with Marsha any more wisely if there had been more of them? Did my use the actual moments suggest I would have done better with more of them? At times I look at our plans that never happened and I have regrets. We had so many things we were going to do. Then I think again. What moments as we spent them should we have given up in order to do the things we missed? You know, we made our choices because of what we valued. We had more then enough money to do things we really thought important and God never made Marsha work harder than any ten teachers I knew. Or God never made me work 60 and 70 hour weeks. Those were our choices and when it came to Marsha and I having time or my going out to a hospital or having an extra commitment, it was Marsha who pushed me out the door sometimes forsaking her own plans for me. It was my decision to sometimes cook dinner and take on more things in my life as I watched Marsha spend hours correcting papers. I loved her being the best teacher and she supported all I did with the same sacrificial dedication. You see we did what we thought was most important and that left some other things out. Maybe looking back I would have done some things differently because I now also see the results, but I didn't have the benefit of seeing the results when I made my choices. I thought in that moment I was making the best choice. Regret is living with history, and fantasy is is useless until we pick it in the moment. Marsha and I had enough time. We used every minute. The time was full all twenty four hours of every day. More time was not available to me or anyone else. My regrets are really few compared to what for both of us was a life with a lot of meaning and satisfaction and contentment. But discussions of time are most important when we see time as limited as if we have to grab all we get out of some limited pool. But Marsha and I saw time differently. You see all of that discussion is only important if you remove Marsha from eternity. Marsha really has not run out of time and neither have I. Time always moves on.

Suffering

I'm waxing philosophical these days because nothing particularly different or exciting was happening during this week a year ago. Constant in the situation when someone has cancer among other possibilities is the question of suffering. For a Christian that question sits in the middle of our faith because of the suffering of Christ, but it shouts with meaning when someone you love has cancer. I'm not saying that Marsha was suffering in the classical sense of the word, but the possibility is ever present when they are dying of cancer. We see ourselves perhaps separated from God when we suffer ourselves and see no end, or when we watch another suffer when we know they don't deserve it. The question sits bold in the air. Why is there suffering. I don't know that I have ever come up with a satisfactory complete answer, but I do know my suffering has most often happened because of the cumulative complicated effect of a whole group of free people. Even many diseases are the cumulative effect of many groups of people. I find it so easy being analytical about things, even suffering, and it does help me face the realities when they actually happen, but the possibility of Marsha being that reality made logic fade. I know I would rather have suffered than to contemplate Marsha suffering, but those choices were not in my control. Gratefully all the concerns about suffering were in vain. Although Marsha was uncomfortable, she did not suffer, or if she did suffer, God's strength was enough for her to live without any outward sign. So with all the analysis and all the practical experience I still find no satisfactory complete answer about suffering, but I continue to work at it.

Love

How deep is your love? How do you even begin to know? I have frequently talked about the evolution of my love for Marsha. I think that my path of evolution of love in marriage is even more common than people would think. Maybe others move more quickly or even jump over some parts of the process entirely, but love changes throughout a relationship. I know before Marsha got sick I knew the strengths she offered to me through our relationship, and that some of them were things I had wanted to change or eliminate in the early years of marriage. I hate the phrase implying that a husband or wife completes each other. I think God made me complete but I didn't always live up to His expectations. God however can complete me, not in new creation like I wasn't a full creation to begin with, but rather a new creation in that I have been recreated by God toward my original created destiny. I also believe that Marsha helped mightily in God's work. Her love for me and my love for her were used by God to further our growth, but I think we both would say our love was still a project. It still amazes me that I discovered new depth to my love for Marsha in the process of losing her in this earthly form. Although the days were filled with difficult circumstances, as I helped her from place to place and waited as best I could on her every need I discovered a new depth of my love. You know how you wish you could have a do over from time to time. (I was playing golf with a guy today who spoke of a golfer friend who would just allow himself frequent do overs and not count them against his score) Wouldn't it be nice if we could just have many do overs in life, because I would love the chance to live with a healthy Marsha understanding how much I truly love her and why. That falls in the category of regrets which are useless and not worth holding onto at all. This depth of loving however is a life lesson and can be applied in many ways. I may be a slow learner but I'm glad I learned even if it was in the midst of the loss of my greatest treasure.

Forgot

I've been thinking and that can be dangerous, but I think I've passed a very important event. In fact I think it was the night before the first chemo. Marsha had a difficult night sleeping. She was up and down for hours and could not get comfortable. I helped her get out to the family room and settled on the couch and I reclined and dozed in my chair. I had been in that room many times with the lights out, and Marsha had been even more often than me. Before Marsha became ill she would quite often fall asleep on the couch and wake up and come to bed a little later than me. I turned out the lights leaving her in the dark. When I opened my eyes before dawn in the dark and looked across the room I saw an unmistakeable white cross illuminated in the darkened window at the back of the addition. I asked Marsha what she saw without explaining and she said she had been looking at the cross in the window. It seemed to her and to me like a sign of God's presence for us in this difficult time. It turned out that all along a streetlight had been shining through a side window framed by the curtains and cast the light on the vinyl x in the center of the window. Why did we both see that cross at the same moment on that morning when we clearly needed it? I find it hard to believe two seriously committed Christian people could have lived all that time with that cross before them and missed it. It was really important to us at that particular moment and I don't think it was an accident that we were both drawn to it that morning. God is good all the time, even when we don't understand it.

The Weekend

I didn't take notes last year so some things are very clear and some remain a little fuzzy. I think Bekah returned on this weekend although it might have been a few days later. Although Marsha was not doing particularly well in the getting comfortable category, she didn't seem to have any adverse reaction to the chemotherapy. We have had a lot of laughs about this period of time. I would move Marsha from the bed to the couch helping her with the wheelchair and the oxygen tubing following behind only to have her uncomfortable one way on the couch and needing to be turned to the other end of the couch, only to think she might do better in the wheelchair, only to think the couch was better and on and on it went. I have said many times that one job for a teenager is to make sure we don't miss them when they leave. It was as if Marsha thought that was her job. Often she would just wait for me to sit down before the next request would come. Pat would say she was perfectly content if I was out until she heard me walk through the door and then she would yell Dana, and I would be off to the races. Really her greatest fear was not being able to catch her breath and in many positions she would get that feeling that she couldn't catch her breath. It was mostly an anxiety that built up more and more once it began, but it was very real to her. I would have done anything to take away that anxiety, but I couldn't.

Chemo Day

The morning was routine, but again the knowledge of the unknown chemo treatment was hanging in the air. We had been given some assurance that the treatment time would not be difficult. Marsha had been given the choice of getting a surgically implanted portal for IVs and chemo but had chosen not to do that. This meant that they needed to start an IV each time she was to receive a treatment. The Friday appointment meant we needed to make the trip to Conway right after lunch to find the office. We were early as always, it is just our way to be early. They took Marsha in for her blood work after a short wait, and then they called me to go back to the treatment room with her. It was a good sized room with lots of reclining chairs for the patients to relax while the drugs entered their body. The nurse was very capable and personable and we both felt quite comfortable with her explanations. She started the IV easily which was not always the case with Marsha and the treatment began. We knew that it would be hours for all the chemo to get into her system so we had reading material with us. Everything went well and the day had a feeling of success. We arrived home with relief for our anxiety. The plan was for another treatment next week and then an appointment with the oncologist on the third week, then start the cycle over again. It seemed very doable as this day ended.

Anxious Waiting

You hear so many true stories of the people who lose their hair and those who are constantly sick to their stomach when they take chemotherapy. That was the source of the anxiety that hung in the air last year this time. This was the day before the first treatment and we had no distractions going on in our life this day. We talked about the possibilities and the fact that Marsha hated to be sick. She was never an easy patient or a very willing nurse. We had waited for this day however hoping that this was a productive or perhaps even miraculous path. Marsha and I had faced the worst of the possibilities in our discussions and I think also in our expectations. I had told so many people to face reality while letting the church pray for a miracle. We knew God could always perform a miracle directly or through medicine, but we had been working at saying what needed to be said and seeing who we needed to see. We were not giving up on life but acting as though Marsha had a very limited life, leaving the miracles to God. We knew the ultimate healing is the wholeness we receive when we die. An anxious day but not a hopeless one, because our hope is in God who will not fail us even if we die.

Just The Four Of Us

Paul & Rita were here for a few days and the visit was wonderful. We have so many friends that when we are together it seems like almost instantaneous reconnection. Paul & Rita are like that for me. We share many memories and although we may not see each other as often as we might like, when we do see each other we have so much to share from our history and from our shared faith and shared vision. I find a similar situation with a number of other people as well. That's what I mean by being so fortunate with all the God given relationships in my life.

With Paul & Rita heading home, our house, which in our mind is both halves of the duplex, was back to just the four of us. Once more I can't say enough about the continuous support from Dave & Pat. God truly put us together here in Myrtle Beach. That pertains to all the years we have spent in sharing our vision for life and sharing the space. We have all grown from our relationship I think, but I know Marsha and I have received so much more because of the caring support given over and over during this short time of illness. For two couples who knew very little about each other when we invited them to join us on a trip to Myrtle Beach in the fall of 2002, we found a relationship that was clearly God ordained. We share a spiritual bond as well as many share life interests. It was, for all of us, an immediate knowledge that we were meant to be here together, but we didn't imagine what was going to happen. I've spoken of God's provision for times of need, and all the ways that God prepared the way for Marsha's illness and death. Pat & Dave were certainly the top of the list, and they continue to be there for me today.

Just Another Day At The Beach

Just got home from Alpha. We had an energetic night I thought. The energy seemed to be all over the room in little conversations during the eating times and focused discussion during the meeting time. Some just kept talking after the program and the mood was way positive. This morning was an exceptional morning of golf. I played two balls for the entire round and kept score on both balls. I scored 80 on each one. I don't want to get my pride up because, although I am becoming more consistent, I know that pride comes before the fall, and with golf the fall can be sudden. I might as well just really enjoy the good moments while they last. I cooked a big home made chicken rice soup this afternoon for part of the meal tonight and I love watching people go up for more and see them eager to take home the leftovers. I miss Marsha but I love my life. Often I think that is a contradiction, but it is what it is and I can't deny that I enjoy my life, while I have my moments of wanting to turn around and share it with Marsha. Like in the picture she always brought much laughter and joy that I can lack. Yes I really miss her but especially when I encounter the best memories of who she was, and those are many.

New Visitors

Some of you know that I was prompted by an article in Forward Day by Day to think about the person that was central to me becoming a Christian. The great preacher and theologian Phillips Brook had been asked why he was a Christian and after some thought he said, "I think it was my aunt in Teaneck New Jersey." When I thought about that for my own life the answer was three people, Marsha, a priest friend Paul Schwenzfeier, and Bob O'Grady from my original Cursillo. Paul and his wife Rita became very close friends for Marsha and I at an important time in our lives and our children also became friends. It was Paul & Rita that brought us to Camp Dennen, which became such an important part of our spiritual journey. This week last year Paul & Rita came to Myrtle Beach because Marsha was ill. I had been in almost constant conversation with Paul during these weeks and he was such an important support for me, but for the two of them to come all the way to MB was such a gift to Marsha & I. They booked hotel space so as not to interfere in our life, but we would have opened our home any time. They came to visit and then let Marsha get rest and that probably was wise if Marsha was going to get better, but that was not really going to happen. The conversation was rich with God's presence and rich with memories and stories of some early years. We were so glad they came and so glad that Marsha had that chance to say goodbye. I felt such tremendous support from so many people. God blessed Marsha and I with so many friends who care for us. It was always clear to us how blessed we were, but never more than during these couple of months.

Waiting for Chemo

We are looking forward to chemo if you could ever look forward to chemo. Our visit at the oncologist office was on a Thursday but Thursday is my bible study morning so Marsha chose to go to the same oncologist at the Conway office because we could do that on a Friday. Dottie went home but she was talking about making plans for another trip down in a week or two. We had a visit from Jim & Linda Burney during the hospital time but they came here to the house about this time also. I was running around during much of this time with the medical supply company. First the oxygen, then a wheelchair and multiple trips to get oxygen refills. I was looking at lift chairs although I didn't go for that. When I couldn't be home for one reason or another Pat would be there. It would have been very difficult to handle everything without the support of Pat & Dave. We continued to eat together almost every night, more often at our house than theirs, because Marsha was not all that mobile. It seemed still like a slow motion waiting game and nothing that would really improve the outcome. Even the chemo was just to perhaps lengthen her life a little bit but not arrest the cancer.