Thanksgiving

We intended to avoid Thanksgiving this year, although it is one of our favorite holidays, hoping to delay the traditional celebrations until next year when, perhaps, we will be stronger. And, although Joel and I will not cook turkey and all the fixins' nor watch football nor even be in this country on Thanksgiving, we cannot help but think of the meaning of this day. Lydia shared Abraham Lincoln's Thanksgiving proclamation of October 1963. It is worth reading and re-reading. And, mind you, this was written in the middle of the Civil War--not exactly a happy time for folks back then.

The year that is drawing toward its close has been filled with the
blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are
so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they
come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature that they
cannot fail to penetrate and soften the heart which is habitually insensible to
the everwatchful providence of almighty God.In the midst of a civil war of
unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign states
to invite and provoke their aggressions, peace has been preserved with all
nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and
harmony has prevailed everywhere, except in the theater of military conflict;
while that theater has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and
navies of the Union.Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields
of peaceful industry to the national defense have not arrested the plow, the
shuttle, or the ship; the ax has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and
the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even
more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased,
notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege, and the
battlefield, and the country, rejoicing in the consciousness of augmented
strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large
increase of freedom.No human counsel hath devised, nor hath any mortal hand
worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the most high God,
who while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered
mercy.It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly,
reverently, and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the
whole American people. I do, therefore, invite my fellow-citizens in every part
of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning
in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next as
a day of thanksgiving and praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the
heavens. And I recommend to them that, while offering up the ascriptions justly
due to him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with
humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his
tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners, or sufferers in
the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently
implore the interposition of the almighty hand to heal the wounds of the nation,
and to restore it, as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes, to the
full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity, and union.In testimony whereof,
I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United Stated States to
be affixed.PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S THANKSGIVING DAY PROCLAMATION, OCTOBER 3,
1863.

I had intended to steal Sue's idea and count the blessings I wish for others rather than my own this year. Yet, I find that I truly am thankful for so much that I want to at least start enumerating what I am most thankful for, even though I'll never write a complete list.
I am thankful for having Maura for 22, almost 23 years. I am thankful for Joel's kindheartedness, for Danielle's sensitivity, and for Lydia's fierce loyalty. I am thankful for a son-in-law who seems quite willing to accept the faults of his new family and love us regardless. I am thankful for Maura's many friends who have allowed us to be a part of their lives, and for the legions who were touched by Maura and form her living legacy. I am thankful for a job that fulfills me in so many ways, allowing me to use my strengths to help others. I'm really the one who is helped--the job forces me to take my eyes off myself and my own sorrow and focus on the needs of students, and in that there is healing. I am thankful for my brothers and my sister--those are priceless relationships, even when untended. I am thankful for the many friends who have let me know in so many ways that they care. I am thankful that God has given me hope amidst the sorrow. I am thankful for the atoning work of Jesus Christ. I am thankful that I can feel thankful, even if just some of the time.

Allison

Allison Davis walked onto the platform to receive her diploma for the B.A. in Music at SHSU in May, 2009--the same graduation ceremony in which Maura would have participated had she not already grown too weak to attend. Later, in her blog, Allison wrote about the her new life as a music teacher, as a "grown up", and her outward and inward struggles and triumphs. Here is Allison's voice, from a summer post to her blog:

I'm trying to see how God has a hand in things even when I can't see
how a situation is going to work out or the purpose of it. One thing that
really has been a struggle for me was Maura's death. For anyone reading this
that doesn't know who Maura is, she was a voice major at Sam. We were
friends, but not super close or anything. A year ago she was diagnosed with
cancer and fought a long, hard battle, finally passing away this past May
(www.mauraupdate.blogspot.com).
Maura was one of the bubbliest, most beautiful, most kind people I've ever met.
And she had this awesome faith. Like I said, we weren't all that close, but I was really affected by her whole situation. Why would God allow that to happen to someone so young, with so much potential? How could He take her away from her friends and her family? How was that FAIR? How does that show God's love? I'm
still struggling over that. It's just so hard to understand the whole situation. And I know things like that happen every day. But I don't think I've ever actually known someone my age that died. Even now, I'll think of her and the frustration almost chokes me. I don't know why her situation has become such a fixation for me. And I don't feel like I can really talk about it because there are people I'm around who were very close to her and who are probably way more frustrated than I am. I'm just seeking a purpose in this life. And a reason why things happen.

On November 16, 2009, just three days shy of the six-month milestone of Maura's death, Allison died in a car crash. So young. Others, many who were friends with both Maura and Allison, are having the same thoughts that Allison had, having experienced a double-whammy of loss.

The picture below is currently the facebook profile picture of one of Maura's very best friends, Kara, and was taken at a Halloween party last year. What a difference a year can make. The girl in the middle is Kara. On one side, Maura. On the other, Allison. How eerie to see yourself as the lone survivor of a snapshot taken barely one year ago.
My heart goes out to Allison's family, especially her siblings, her parents, and her fiancee. I have some idea what they are going through.

Six

Six months since Maura died. 

Today. 

I had decided last week that I did not want us to be alone today, so I invited people over to the house via facebook. More showed up than I expected, especially given the other events scheduled at the same time. Others wrote cards or sent notes or emailed. The evening went well. We just talked and ate. The conversation naturally gravitated toward Maura for awhile. We were able to share our Dynamo story. 

     And there was more sadness this week, especially for Maura's friends: another May graduate of the SHSU School of Music died this week in a car crash. She had come to Maura's funeral.She had just started a career as a music teacher. Many of Maura's friends were at her wake tonight.

   And another death earlier today--gifted writer named Kevin Foley died from sarcoma tonight. He has blogged about his life, his cancer, his family, world politics, and just about everything for a couple of years. You can read Card Blue for yourself. I feel as though I have lost a friend, although I never met him.

     I love Maura, and I miss her very much,

Bounce

     I'm having a harder time pulling it together at work. Last Monday, someone tried to tell me of a mistake I had made, and I looked at her blankly because i just wasn't understanding what she was trying to tell me. I felt...vacant. And stupid.
     I'm having a harder time pulling it together other places,too. On Friday, we went to a pub downtown to watch the Dynamo vs. L.A. Galaxy playoff match in Los Angeles. It was crowded. I felt uncomfortable, out of my element. Oh, no. I realized that this was a place Maura had described to me, a place she and Katie had been to. Maura loved having fun. Who doesn't? But Maura was so good at it. She could brighten everyone's day and make us all have fun. Sob, sob. Except now. I really just wanted to go home.
     Things got a bit better after the game started. But it was a weird game. The ref made some bad calls. The lights went out in the stadium in Carson, CA and the game was stopped twice for a total of 30 or 40 minutes.
     At half-time, the Dynamo representatives that were at the pub announced the winners of the silent auction items, proceeds of which were going to the Dynamo Charities. Then he announced a Live Auction for a Dynamo Party Pack, "which includes, among other things, two Dynamo players that come to your event to sign autographs, and a Dynamo Moon Bounce." What? What did he say? A moon bounce? A Dynamo moon bounce? "And we will start the bidding at $100." And I thought of the blog I wrote just a day or two before Maura went into the hospital for the last time, when we were planning her graduation party, and I announced that we would have a moon bounce, at Maura's request. Maura really wanted a party with a moon bounce. She never got it. Instead, the tumors grew, her kidneys failed, and she died. 

     Joel, I said, let's bid on the Dynamo Party Pack. "Who will start the bidding at $100? Yes, the woman with the Dynamo scarf." And I realized I was standing up, with my hand held high, wearing my Dynamo scarf,  "Who will bid $150?" And Joel said, What are we bidding on? It's a Dynamo Party Pack, I replied, and the players come to the party and there will be a Dynamo moon bounce. A what? You know, the jumpy jumpy thing that Maura wanted for her graduation party. "Who will bid $150? 150? Yes, I've got $150. who will give me $200 to have two Dynamo players come to your event...?" One more time, Nikki and Danielle were both prodding me. No, it's too expensive. And Joel, still confused, What are we getting? It's for Maura, I said. A party for Maura. Can we go again? Joel raised his hand. "Yes, $200. Who will give me $275?" Oh my gosh.  A minute later, they came to our side, took our credit card, got our information, and, for $200, we became the proud owners of a Dynamo Party Pack, which includes, among other things, two Dynamo players that come to our event to sign autographs, and a Dynamo moon bounce! 

     I cried. Duh.

     So now we are working on a plan. We've decided that we will use the Dynamo Party Pack in a fundraiser for one or both of Maura's funds---Sarcoma Research at M.D. Anderson and/or the music scholarship endowment fund in her name at SHSU. Kind of exciting!

Ubi Caritas...

This video is from Maura's memorial service. I hadn't watched it in a long while and was again impressed with the sheer number of friends, many of them graduated and living out of state, who came to sing for her. They rehearsed for less than an hour together. The pastor commented that it was the best music ever sung in the church. Such a beautiful piece of music. Maura selected it herself.

When David Heard by Eric Whitacre Part 1

I remember hearing Maura's chorale sing this piece a couple of years ago. At the time, I was very moved, especially with Matt's countertenor solo (as good as the soloist on this video is, Matt's performance was brilliant, haunting, sorrowful, memorable). I wish I had the SHSU version to put up here instead. David's cries, sobs, wails, and moans were so artfully made into music, and I remember thinking--and feeling--how incredibly painful losing a child would be. Many times after Maura became ill, I would hear Matt's solo in my head, "O, Absalom"

Requiem

I'm listening to Rutter's Requiem on the radio right now. So many memories of Maura and this hauntingly beautiful piece of music.

Pink

It's breast cancer awareness month and guess what I did. I became a living, walking poster.

Last week we attended the Dynamo game against L.A. Galaxy and I put sunscreen all over my arms and shoulders and face. Note to self: testing a new sunscreen on the arm for an allergic reaction is not the same as testing it on the face. I broke out in a horrible red rash that I had to explain away to my students he next day. But the rash disappeared within 48 hours.
What did not disappear was the sunburn on my chest and neck where I had neglected to apply any sunscreen at all. Even after one week, I have a painful sunburn in the shape of the pink cancer awareness ribbon around my neck and on my chest. I kid you not. It will peel and fade to a light shade of breast-cancer-awareness-pink that will last for months.
Dear Nancy Brinker, have I gone too far for The Cause?

No, I will not post a picture. That's just gross.

WaterWorks

I cannot understand how I sometimes have absolutely no control over my emotions and other times, I'm the pillar of strength and downright stoic. Today should have been easy. It was a gift I couldn't take advantage of--a lovely inservice day. My chief pleasure on such a day is in the gathering of colleagues from several campuses, giving me a chance to see work friends I don't see on a daily basis. The morning passed without incident. I began to falter in the afternoon after several people came over to talk to me. One of my co-workers dubbed me Miss Popular; I can't help it if people love me :) I hadn't seen many of these colleagues since before Maura became ill. Some didn't know about Maura, and, of course, the subject of my absence came up, and I told them, and well...Others came to offer their condolences. That was a good thing--no awkward silences. I'm glad they did not ignore me. And I'm glad they did not probe or try to say anything else. Lots of I'm sorries and lots of hugs. Just right! But all those expressions of love and concern and friendship drain my energy and bring my sorrow to the surface. When the speaker began, I was already in a fragile state. Jonathan Sprinkles is an excellent motivational speaker for college students, coming from a background similar to many students on our campus, so I had looked forward to hearing him speak. Unfortunately for me, he asked us to write down recent challenges in our lives (I didn't) and how we had solved them. (Uh-oh. Here it comes.) My chin quivered; my eyes welled up; and I'm sitting at a table with all my immediate co-workers. Darn. Double darn. Then Jonathan proceeded to tell us that most of our greatest challenges are 1) temporary, and 2) never turn out as bad as we think. I never heard what number 3 and 4 were. Oh, thank you, God, that I was near a door! A friend followed me to make sure I was okay. Then she retrieved my belongings from the conference room, and I headed for home. Only I didn't go home. Instead I came back to work for awhile, needing to get my mind busy. Well, that didn't work either. I got some work done, but here I sit, unable to concentrate, using my work computer for personal blogging. I think they can fire me for this. If you are reading this, and you have the ability to fire me or to get me fired, please don't. It's 6:50 on a Friday evening, and I'm a wreck.

Addendum, 7:30 Saturday morning: I'm better now. Still, I go back to my original question: Why do I have no control over my emotions? So many times I can talk about Maura, or I can listen to people making insensitive remarks, or I can read or listen to self-help gurus. No tears. I'm fine. I've got this grief thing under control. And at other times...
Emotional triggers? Nothing and everything.

Fact or Fiction

Theatre is so much better than a self-help book for processing grief. For me.
This weekend I saw the play Rent for the second time in several years. The first time, I thought it was a nice show. This time it was a memorable and moving experience. Every theme of the play flew past me unnoticed save one: the responsibility of living well. It is not a show about gay people or AIDS, even though it is. It is about life, about choosing to spend our time on what matters.
I did not expect the floodgates to open during this show, but , hello, everything reminded me of Maura. One of the main characters, aptly named Angel, was Maura: talented, kind, loving, the peacemaker. After one year, Angel dies, leaving his friends to figure out what Angel's life and death taught them of the importance of life, love, and relationships (and, I add, God).
Maura's last 525,600 minutes were, as the song suggests, measured in love. I was taken by surprise to see Maura's high school friend, Jennifer Ross, soulfully sing the solo in Seasons of Love. I felt like I was in church, and someone please pass me the Kleenex. Really. I think the people behind me should have asked for their money back because I was probably very distracting. As Jennifer finished, I rose to my feet, aas did so many others, and the applause reverberated throughout the theatre.
After the show I had to compliment her--and she confided that the director had scolded her for singing the song without passion. So she searched her heart and started over, singing to Maura and for Maura and about Maura. And she got it. And I got it. And the whole audience got it. And it was for Maura. I'm so glad I got to be a part of that.
Jennifer said that Maura taught her how to sing Gospel music. Isn't that funny? The little blond chick teaching the African-American diva how to sing? I think Jennifer exaggerated, but she insisted that she had a very small voice before Maura drew her voice out of its shell.

Theatre is so much better than a self-help book for processing grief. So are novels.
I don't know why. I'm not opposed to inspirational books that speak to grief and healing. I'm reading four of them right now, all good, all helpful; all gifts from friends who were helped themselves by one or another of these books. But I find that it is within fiction that I find a character or two that I can identify with, and I can cry or see things differently or find comfort. Biographies that are written by excellent storytellers (certain books of the Bible being a terrific example of the latter) satisfy that same need.
Here is an excerpt from The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski. I have read this paragraph--the whole chapter--- at least a dozen times over the course of reading the book this month. Simple, but accurate:

There followed, for each of them, good days and bad, and often Edgar's best moments coincided with his mother's worst. She could be cheerful and determinedly energetic for days on end and then one morning he would walk downstairs and find her hunched at the kitchen table, haggard and red-eyed. Once lapsed, nothing could deliver her. It worked the same with him. Just when normal life felt almost possible--when the world held some kind of order, meaning, and even loveliness(the prismatic spray of light through an icicle; the stillness of a sunrise), some small thing would go awry and the veil of optimism was torn away, the barren world revealed. They learned, somehow, to wait those times out. There was no cure, no answer, no reparation.

I love that line: They learned, somehow, to wait those times out. Yes, that is what it is like.
I think of the Biblical stories of Hannah, Ruth, Mary and Martha (the sisters of Lazarus), Mary (mother of Jesus)--women who prayed and believed and mourned and did not, even under extreme pressure, lose faith.

Yes, right now, stories of all genres help me grieve.

Coincidence

I have received several emails and texts from people I don't regularly hear from, asking how I am, telling me they're thinking of me...much more than normal. Lots of people asking, "How aaarrrre you?" with those eyebrows arched in knowing concern. This can mean only one thing: I haven't blogged in over a week, and people get worried I'm going to fall into a funk.  So, I logged on tonight to let everyone know I'm okay, we're okay, everything is okay; I just haven't had anything to say. And, lo and behold, Matt also just blogged from Korea b/c people let him know they were worried about him. Hmm...I think our mutual friends need to get out more. 

It is good to have friends and family who care.

Fame

edited on 10/06/09 (I substituted faith for fame)

....FAITH
I'm gonna live forever
I'm gonna learn how to fly
High

...FAITH
I'm gonna make it to heaven
Light up the sky like a flame
...FAITH

REMEMBER
REMEMBER
REMEMBER

Sue reminded me of these lyrics. I think for Maura I should substitute another word instead of "Fame." But I can't seem to put my finger on the right word that goes with both Maura and the song.

Amanda, Part 2

Please pray for Amanda!
If you do not know Amanda, please take a moment to read here what I wrote in May about this wonderful young woman.

Update :
Still cancer free.

And now, pregnant. :)

(She just started a blog because Matt said she had to since he was in Korea and couldn't be here. You can follow her story at And At The End I Get A Baby.

 

Heaven

Here's the truth: Right now, the number one reason I want to go to Heaven is not to see Jesus or to share in God's everlasting happiness. I don't get excited about spending eternity singing praises of the Most High. I don't think about Heaven as a place where there will be no more evil or sorrow or pain. In my head I know it's all true, but I don't care. Not now. Now, the only thing that thrills me about Heaven is Maura. I'll get to see Maura again. And I know that God understands how I feel, and I can't imagine that I will ever feel differently. But I can wait. And so can God.
Steven Curtis Chapman suffered the tragic loss of his daughter last year, shortly after Maura got sick. At that time, I had to turn off the radio because it was too painful and frightening to listen to all the condolences pouring in to the Christian radio station that I listen to.
The video below is a song he wrote for his little girl that expresses similar feelings to mine. In a subsequent YouTube video, he talks about how the song came about.

Got Regret?

This week I have heard from many people who are grieving--either for Maura or for someone else--and regret reverberates throughout their stories.  I am blessed in that I have little to regret, although my mind keeps searching for ever more failures or omissions when I play the destructive "what if?" game or it's close relative, the "if I had only" game. What if I had paid more attention when Maura complained of cramps? If only she hadn't been misdiagnosed. If I had only figured out how to get to M.D. Anderson sooner.  What if she had not had surgery before chemo? What if we had, early on, rid ourselves of every toxic chemical in our house? Switched to a wholly vegan, chemical-and-hormone-free diet? Chosen a less polluted city to live in? If I had only known...everything I know now. Would it have helped? Would it have saved her life? Would it have given her--us--another year?

Despite that macabre self-flagellation, I have  little regret for the way I lived this last year with Maura, and that is a gift I owe to my mother. 

Joel once told me that, after my mom died, twelve years ago, he felt as if he didn't have a wife for two years.  That's because for two years after she died, I beat myself up for not having been a better daughter.  I hadn't visited her enough. I should have spent more time with her. I let my busy life get in the way of spending time with someone I dearly loved. I never thought of the day she would no longer be there. I had taken her for granted. I grieved,yes. But, even more painful, I regretted every moment I had wasted not being with her. Grief and remorse. I think that we pair those two emotions together so many times that we hardly recognize the difference. But I know the difference now. I learned a hard lesson with my mom, and I vowed not to repeat my mistake. I vaguely remember it as a a kind of potato-wielding-Scarlett-O'Hara-fist-shaking promise to myself. More than anything else, that is what fueled my insistence that I take care of my dad when his Alzheimer's grew worse.  I never ever ever wanted to feel the way I felt after my mom died, and I did not want to take any time with my dad for granted.  I worked at not taking anyone for granted...not always successfully, but I tried...I still try. That is how I absolved myself of the guilt. When my father died, the grief was more acute because he had lived with us for a couple of years, but the regret was nil except for a few rounds of the "what if?" game--I don' think there is any way to escape that. 

And with Maura? I worked part-time for ten months and took a leave of absence starting in February. At some level, I always knew that she would die, and I did not want to waste any time. I regret lots of little things, but none of the big things. I got those right. Maybe. The grief...the pure, guilt-free grief over Maura's death is agonizing enough. Adding remorse on top of it would be unbearable.

My recipe for minimizing regrets: Declare it "Opposite Day." Whatever you neglected to do, do. Whatever you did wrong, do right. If you refused to give blood because you are afraid of needles, give blood now. Better yet, go the extra mile and give platelets. If you didn't come home sooner to be with your dying friend, make sure you spend more time with your ailing parent. If you took a vacation instead of spending time with your sick loved one, spend an upcoming vacation helping others. If you regret not having shaved your head in solidarity with the one who had cancer, go buy a few wigs for current cancer patients. Make meaningful restitution. "Shower the people you love with love..." and don't take anyone for granted. Ugh-easier said than done. It is hard not to take people for granted. I still do it all the time, even when I try not to. 

Anyway, thanks, Mom, for teaching me a valuable lesson, even after you were gone. I wish I had not had to go through such pain to learn it. 

Pity

Four months yesterday, marked by a visit from two of Maura's best friends. I truly thank them for spending time with me. They are a connection to Maura that I treasure. Kara and I shopped and cooked a vegetarian feast. Before she came I was in a puddle of tears, and I started right up again the second she and Katie left.
Aaagghh! This has been a particularly weepy week. I miss her so much.
I think I am becoming pitiable. I didn't want that. Maybe it's inevitable.

Generosity

I am overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement. Once again I must refer you to Airika and Gerald Pope Photography's blog at geraldpope.blogspot.com . They have posted more pictures of Lydia and Joao's wedding and a slide show of pictures. Not only are the pictures the most beautiful I have ever seen, but the Popes have stated on their blog that all proceeds from the sales of the prints will be donated to M.D. Anderson for sarcoma research! Not only did they provide their extensive services for the just the price of the plane tickets, but now they won't even profit from the sale of their art. What a generous couple.

Ashes and Mount Fuji, Japan

Katie went to visit Leah in Japan. She took a little bit of Maura with her and released her ashes on Mount Fuji--a BFF once again fulfilling Maura's dream of traveling the world. Thank you, girls. Special thanks to Chelsea once again for a great film.

Happy

Wonderful news about two women who have been battling sarcoma: Elsa's tumor is shrinking with a trial drug. And, after three years, Michelle is cancer -free. Time to do the happy dance! 

Wedding Photos

Today, September 10, was the day that Lydia and Joao were originally going to get married. Photographers Airika and Gerald Pope have blogged about and posted more photos of Joao and Lydia's wedding. Click on the title of this post for a direct link to their blog. Or go to geraldpope.blogspot.com One post prior to today's they posted a few pictures from the rehearsal dinner. Amazing, right?
And my brother's already beautiful backyard was turned into the most incredible fairy woodland, thanks to the talented Shawna Yamamoto, a florist/event designer. Wow. Wow! The splashes of yellow, especially the floating candles, were Shawna's way of including Maura in the ceremony.