Up North

Dear Mom,
 This post is a little late. The summer is flying by like a Bat Out Of Hell, and I am just going with the flow. As promised, I wanted to follow my emotional post from before,  with memories from Cass Lake. This year at Cass was the first without you, and you were sure missed. I look back at all the pictures I took last year, and there are so many that I love. I took 4 times the amount of photos last year compared to this year. As always Cass Lake did not disappoint.

 

The water was a lot higher, and we were not able to really walk on that pier you are on above. It was pretty much underwater, as you can see below. Your fish of a Granddaughter "Lilly" made sure to swim as much as possible, even if it involved getting swimmers itch.

 

We did not do much minnow catching either. The high water and unsafe docks kept us away. 

As always Great Grandpa's knowledge and patience kept the twins busy.

 

We didn't do a group picture this year either. It didn't really ever come up and I think we just wanted to enjoy the days, and everyone was so busy it just snuck away from us.

As always the twins were showered with affection and attention. 

The twins did tattoos again this year as well, and lots of different art projects to keep them busy. Ice Cream at the lodge every night was very common. I also got to witness, how HYPER Charlie gets from a Sugar High. Pretty comical.  I can just picture you laughing at him.

Although the week last year had some unknowns of what is ahead, we still enjoyed every minute. This year we kicked back more and just had more emptiness.  You were referenced many times during the week.  As you would of wished though, we still had a great time and felt your presence with us. 

As always Charlie kept everyone laughing.

 

 

We also did the annual, drive by Angler's Old lot and just looked in awe, at the place we went for many years. I am pretty sure, we have the same conversation each year, but it is what we do. 

We had some wet pontoon rides, that created lots of laughs and screams. 

Lilly's new job this year, was to help gather sticks to keep the fire going. I am sure Tony, the resort owner, loved the well manicured hill in front of our cabin, due to our little work horse.

Lilly made friends, just as I used to as a child up north. Jumping off the dock and swimming away.

Charlie took it all in, as he usually does.

 We even hung out with Joe at Star Island for an afternoon.

We slept in, and rolled out of bed, right into our swim gear.

We had watermelon for bedtime snack, after getting all the sand off of us from the day in the sun.

 Lilly was put to work with Aunt Jen, and loved every bit of it.

Yes...she would smell the dishes to confirm cleanliness.

 Walker Thomas celebrated his birthday up there as well. Where did this little monkey haired baby go?

So there is the skinny on the first summer vacation without Grandma Pam.It is still unsettling with me, but it just makes me want to create memories for my children just as you did. It makes me want to duplicate the love and passion you had for your family.

Miss you tons,
Mando

Handed Lemons

Dear Mom,
     The article below, has made it's way around social media for sometime now. When I first read the article you did not have cancer, and life was going on as normal. I read it, and still cried. I thought to myself, I don't even want to think of the day when my mom starts to fade away and she leaves me. I had to watch my Grandma Lilly be taken by Alzheimer's in 2010, and the years leading up to that were sad, terrifying,  hard and stressful.  I was pretty sure that it would be awhile before I would have to go through "that" process again. 

I sure struck out.  I'm angry and sad that two wonderful woman who made such an impact on my life were taken from me all within 4 years. I feel robbed and taken advantage of. We all got along, we loved eachother, and were pretty damn good pals. That didn't matter.

Lilly didn't even get to grow up to remember the legacy she was named after.

She remembers her Gma Pam though. The twins still tie you into random conversations and it makes my heart swell.


Here is the article I was talking about in the beginning before I started to ramble.

My dear girl, the day you see I'm getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I'm going through. If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don't interrupt to say: "You said the same thing a minute ago"... Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.

When I don't want to take a bath, don't be mad and don't embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?

When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don't look at me that way ... remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life's issues every day... the day you see I'm getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I'm going through.

If I occasionally lose track of what we're talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can't, don't be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.

And when my old, tired legs don't let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don't feel sad... just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love. I'll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I've always had for you, I just want to say, I love you ... my darling daughter.

Hearing the word "Hospice" made my world crash, but I just sucked it up and did what I had to do.  We all did.  I know it really bothered you to have people always with you at your house, helping you cope, and get your food and meds.  You hated the feeling of "Putting People Out."  You knew we had jobs and families to keep running as well. Well guess what, we had people fighting for us as well, and they helped keep those running while we were with you.

Do not worry. We all took something away from those days and nights with you. I never lost my patience with you, it warmed my heart that I was able to help you get a nice hot shower in and feel like a million bucks. I loved putting make up on you, so you could feel pretty. I loved putting lotion on your legs and feet, to make you feel as if you were at a Spa. I loved warming up butterscotch pudding in the microwave and topping it off with reddi whip for your bedtime snack. Your nighttime munchies still make me giggle. The amount of mashed potatoes and butter you consumed in the 7 weeks of hospice, was something fierce.

Stuart Scott a well known ESPN Anchor says it all.

"When you die, that does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you lived, why you lived and in the manner in which you lived," Scott said. "So live. Live. Fight like hell. And when you get too tired to fight, then lay down and rest and let somebody else fight for you." ~ Stuart Scott

You fought hard, and we all fought right along with you. I remember just listening to you cry and say, "I hate feeling like this." It broke our hearts, but we stayed strong for you.I stayed strong to hide how I really felt, so you didn't see me breaking inside. I am sure you knew how I felt, just due to your motherly instinct.

I catch myself losing my patience with the twins from time to time, and every once in awhile I catch myself stepping back to think before I react. I think to myself, how would my mom handle this? I am sure I followed you around the house just like Charlie and Lilly do, demanding my attention, food, drinks, and treats.  I'm determined to ease up and just enjoy it and realize, someday I will miss them following me around, and instead be worried about what trouble they are getting into after 10pm on a Saturday. I know down the road the roles will reverse and I hope to share the above article with Lilly Jean.

Love you to the moon and back!
Your Little Dew Bug

The Big Surgery Anniversary

Dear Mom,
    
    Tomorrow (July 9th) marks the one year anniversary that you had your HUGE surgery at St. Mary's. We knew the tumor was big, but we did not anticipate it to be the size of a football. This morning it dawned on me that tomorrow was the day. I frequently catch myself thinking "Where were we last year at this time?"  Some of the flashbacks bring happiness, some sadness, and the surgery day...well those emotions are crazy. 

We were all scared, you were scared, everyone just flat out freaked out. We held our heads high and hoped for the best. You handled it with the strength of a body builder. I knew you couldn't feel much worse, so you were pretty sure this surgery would bring you some relief. We had all just come home from a week at Cass Lake. We knew it could be your last vacation up north, but we also had hope this surgery would turn a corner for you and we would be blessed with brighter days. The morning of the surgery was very high stress. We all sat together in that pre-opp area while we waited for them to take you back. You were skinny, frail, and tired. We hugged, cried, and kept small talk going.  I hugged you and had to leave. I knew you were going to be taken away, and I had to leave so I didn't see them take you away. I acted like all was fine and I said...see you in a couple hours, mom. I just knew that if I saw them take you down the hallway, I probably would of snort cried. You know that ugly cry I have, that I passed onto my children.

I was so scared that they would go in, close you back up, and greet us with a pitiful face stating..."Sorry, there is nothing we can do."  That happens in these circumstances and we knew it was an option. The surgeon you had was top notch and we had hope.  He also was a clone of Micheal Bolton. His name is Dr. L. I do not know how to spell his last name, and I don't even want to try.

The hours you were in the operating room drug on and on. We were finally moved up to the ICU waiting area, where we could wait for your arrival. We were told to wait and we would be notified by a nurse when we could come down and talk with the surgeon post surgery.

We sat in the room, chit chatted, sipped on coffee, and tried to keep as positive as possible. I am pretty sure I would sit for a MAX of 3 minutes at a time, before getting up to walk the hall, take a bathroom break, pace, etc.  Family kept pouring through that door. You had one heck of a support system, Mom.

The nurse came into the room and told us that the family could come down to talk to the surgeon. She did assure us that mom was alive and they were able to operate. That took a lot off our chest. The surgeon crammed us into a small office and told us that he was able to get all visible cancer out of the abdomen area.  We smiled, cried, thanked him, and just kind of stood there. I knew in my head, you still had cancer on your lungs, but I was hopeful the chemo pills would zap those. People would gasp and say...She is cancer free now! I didn't want to rain on their parade, as I knew there was still some "Nodgules" on your lungs. It's almost like since they called them "nodgules" and not "tumors" people didn't think they were as serious. They still didn't set well with me, but you can't sit and dwell on that. You have to stay hopeful or you will just get sucked in by all those feelings.

We ended this day with hope, hope that you would recover and bounce back. Hope that the cancer pills would clean up the lungs, and the cancer would stay away.

 

Seeing you in the ICU at first was hard. You had lots of tubes hooked up to you and your pain level was quite high. They had that under control by evening and you were up and walking the next day. Amazing.

 

 

Your drive to fight this nasty disease is an inspiration to me and the hurdles I may face down the road in my life. 



We were up at Cass Lake last week, and I was a bit scared of how that week would go without you there. Just as you would of wanted, we had a great week and a great time. I still have a void though, the days are easier and less tears, but there is a hole in my heart and stomach. You are still on my mind a lot, and I think of you all the time. I catch myself still wanting to share stories and pictures with you.  It hasn't even been 3 months so, I am sure that is all normal.

Miss you so much it hurts, Mamma!

Love,
Mando

Next post will have lots of fun vacation pics for you.