Re: [MOL] Story [02949] Medicine On Line


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Re: [MOL] Story



Me too!
You know, I was just thinking the other day that one of the hardest
things I ever had to do was tell Lisa's kids that their mum was going to
die, and to encourage them to go in and say goodbye to her. But they
handled it so much better than I did. Of course there were many tears
shed, but they each seemed to find their own way of dealing with her
passing. Even now, out Cassie (who doesn't talk) blows kisses to her
aunty Lisa. Today is Jessica's ninth birthday, it is also the day that
Lisa had her surgery and was diagnosed with colon cancer, one year ago.
A mixed day for Jess, she was Lisa's goddaughter, and being the first
girl on both sides of the family was extremely close to Lise (remember
that Lisa had three boys). Tomorrow it is Wayne's dads birthday, and on
friday it is our Davids (15). This is followed by our wedding
anniversary on the 28th. As you can see, this is a time of both joy, and
sadness for us, and that story helps us to remember that sometimes, we
should not look for a solution, that if we just think like our children
and really believe, then anything is possible.
*gentle smile to all*
Love Mam

jerry corrigan wrote:
> 
> Dear PJ:  That story made me cry my eyes out!  Thank you so much for sending
> it!!! Love you, Kathy
> -----Original Message-----
> From: PSerritell@AOL.COM <PSerritell@AOL.COM>
> To: mol-cancer@lists.meds.com <mol-cancer@lists.meds.com>
> Cc: Rbrady2468@AOL.COM <Rbrady2468@AOL.COM>; Hamptons Online E-Mail
> <eaiggy@hamptons.com>; Leelake998@AOL.COM <Leelake998@AOL.COM>;
> truocchio@webtv.net <truocchio@webtv.net>
> Date: Monday, February 22, 1999 4:42 PM
> Subject: [MOL] Story
> 
> >
> >Sam's Way:::::
> >
> >One day my 4 yr old son, Sam, told me that he'd seen his baby-sitter crying
> >because she'd broken up with her boyfriend "She was sad" he said "I've
> never
> >been sad" Sam added. "Not ever"
> >
> >It was true Sam's life was happy in large part because of his relationship
> >with my father.  As Sam told everyone, Pa Hood was more than a grandfather
> to
> >him they were buddies.
> >
> >There's a scene in the Movie Anne of Green Gables in which Anne wishes
> aloud
> >for a bosom friend. Watching that one day, Sam sat up and declared, "That's
> me
> >and Pa bosom friends forever and ever."
> >
> >My father described their relationship the same way. When I went out of
> town
> >one night a week to teach, it was Pa in his red pickup truck who'd meet Sam
> at
> >school and take him back to his house.  There they'd play pirates and
> nights
> >and Robin Hood.
> >
> >They even dressed alike; pocket T-shirts, baseball caps and jeans.  They
> had
> >special restrauants they frequented, playgrounds where they were regulars,
> and
> >toy stores where Pa allowed Sam to race up and down the aisles on motorized
> >cars.
> >
> >Sam had even memorized my father's phone number and called him every
> morning
> >and night , "Pa," he would ask, clutching the phone, "can I call you ten
> >hundred more times?". Pa always said yes and answered the phone every time
> >with equal delight.
> >
> >Then my father became ill. In the months he was hospitalized for lung
> cancer,
> >I worried about how Sam would react to Pa's condition: the needle bruises,
> the
> >oxygen tubes, his weakened state. When I explained to Sam that seeing Pa so
> >sick might scare him, he was surprises. "He could never scare me." Sam
> said.
> >
> >Later I watched adults approach my father's hospital bed with trepidation,
> >unsure of what to say or do. But Sam knew exactly what was right; hugs and
> >jokes, as always.
> >"Are you coming home soon," he'd ask.
> >"I'm trying." Pa would tell him.
> >
> >When my dad died, everything changed for me and Sam. Not wanting to
> confront
> >the questions to and feelings my father's death raised, I kept my
> overwhelming
> >sadness at bay. When well-meaning people asked how I was doing, I'd give
> them
> >a short answer and swiftly change the subject.
> >
> >Sam was different, however. For him, wondering aloud was the best way to
> >understand.
> >
> >"So," he'd say, settling in his car seat, "Pa's in space, right?", Or,
> >pointing at a stained-glass window in church, he'd ask, "Is one of those
> >angels Pa?".
> >"Where's heaven?" Sam asked right after my father died.
> >"No one knows exactly." I said
> >"Lots of people think it's in the sky."
> >"No," Sam said shaking his head, "it's very far away. Near Cambodia."
> >"When you die," he asked on another afternoon, "you disappear, right? And
> when
> >you faint, you only disappear a little Right?"
> >
> >I thought his questions were good.  The part I had trouble with was what he
> >always did afterward: he'd look me right in the eye with more hope that I
> >could stand and wait for my approval or correction or wisdom.  But in this
> >matter my fear and ignorance were so large that I'd grow dumb in the face
> of
> >his innocence.
> >
> >Remembering Sam's approach to my father's illness, I began to watch his
> >approach to grief.  At night he'd press his face against his bedroom window
> >and cry, calling out into the darkness, "Pa, I love you! Sweet dreams!".
> then,
> >as his tears stopped, he'd climb into bed, somehow satisfied, and sleep.  I
> >however, would wander the house all night, not knowing how to mourn.
> >
> >One day in the supermarket parking lot, I saw a red truck like my father's.
> >For an instant I forgot he had died. My heart leapt as I thought, Dad's
> here!
> >Then I remembered and succumbed to an onslaught of tears.  Sam climbed onto
> my
> >lap jammed himself between me and the steering wheel.
> >"You miss Pa, don't you?" he asked I managed to nod.
> >"You have to believe he's with us, Mommy," he said. "you have to believe
> >that."
> >Too young to attach to a particular ideology. Sam was simply dealing with
> >grief and loss by believing that death does not really separate us from
> those
> >we love.  I couldn't show him heaven on a map or explain the course a soul
> >might travel.  But he'd found his own way to cope.
> >
> >Recently while I was cooking dinner, Sam sat by himself at the kitchen
> table,
> >quietly coloring in the Spider Man coloring book. "I love you too," he said
> >I laughed and said "You only say 'I love you "after someone says 'I love
> you
> >first"
> >I know" Sam said "Pa just said, "I love you Sam," and I said, "I love you
> >too." He then kept coloring.
> >
> >"Pa just talked to you?" I asked
> >"Oh, Mommy," Sam said, "he tells me he loves me every day. He tells you
> too.
> >You're just not listening."
> >Again, I have begun to take Sam's lead. I have begun to listen.
> >
> >By Ann Hood from Parenting
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