Hello gang, thanks for making the transition. If you have no idea why I included you on this, here is a short summary.
Last year I lost my best friend and husband to colon cancer. This raging beast very likely began its war in his colon when he was 41. He had no symptoms until he was 44, and by then the battle was already lost. He was my hero, and fought this thing to the bitter end.Every available drug, therapy and procedure that we could dig up we used. I think had we not done that, he wouldn’t have lasted 19 weeks, much less the 19 months we had with him since the diagnosis.
The bulk of you were the ones who sustained us through this catastrophe. Every single one of you were a brick in the foundation of support, and for that I will be grateful forever.
Life has this distressing tendency to go on. Children need to be fed and nurtured, jobs attended to, and, surprisingly, beautiful things often happen.
This blog is my attempt to stay above the mire. Above the easy tendency to be sad about my lot, about the unfairness and unanswerable questions that accompany such a disaster.
If you can stand it, you’ll hear about grieving children, life in the middle of the bed, making friends as a single woman, and what God has to do with all of this.
You’ll also hear about business decisions, some sound and some not so much. Chris and I were business partners for twenty years, and it is jarring to lose both your husband and your business partner.
In the spirit of helpfulness, I will also give you a peek into our family dynamic. This is not Oprah, so I’ll spare you the titillating details. Even so, Chris’s upbringing had a profound affect on his life, cancer journey, and even his death.
So, where to start? Life can be so full sometimes, and sometimes so desolate. I guess I’ll end where I began, with a thank you to all of you who were there, right when we needed you.
Much love, and hope to see all of you soon.