An Update

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Although it’s only been a three weeks, it seems like a lifetime ago that I had my line placed and started my IV antibiotic. Time has been crawling along as I am waiting to be free from this disruption and back to usual life. I’d say things have gone as well as possible. It’s certainly not fun. I’ve been forced to follow an infusion schedule which interrupts my sleep and my plans. The medication itself contributes to a tired feeling and gives me restless nights and bad dreams. I’m only supposed to lift a maximum of five pounds with my right arm which majorly cramps my style. The infected congestion has been very stubborn about leaving my lungs so I’ve had to do unpleasant things in an effort to clear it which has made my back and head unhappy. We had to miss a planned vacation due to the timing of my treatments.

But there have been many blessings as well. My sister came and stayed for eight days! I never get that kind of time with my sisters. Jaime has been able to take some time off this week for a little “staycation.” Having him around has been a treat for both Lucas and I and has allowed me the flexibility to get extra rest. I’ve been going back to bed every morning after my first infusion. Having the ability to do that has made a giant difference in how much strength I’ve had through this ordeal, even if my days haven’t started until 10:30am. And thankfully, my lungs are feeling much better than they did at the start of all this. I didn’t even realize how poorly I’d been breathing until I started breathing better. What a relief!

The better breathing brought with it a rush of adrenaline–the kind of adrenaline that makes me want to do 100 projects.  Jaime has been helping me keep those impulses under control. Last weekend was the first weekend without soccer for Jaime, and being the first-rate husband he is, rather than planning a relaxing weekend for himself, he decided to help me tackle a few yard projects I’ve been dying to do. These are things I knew I couldn’t attempt on my own with a PICC in my arm, but with Jaime’s help and supervision we got a ton of work done.  He only scolded me a few times for lifting things he thought were too heavy or being a little too crazy. We had a few conversations that went something like this:

Jaime: How did those wood chips get spread? Those bags are heavy! Plus you shouldn’t be breathing that stuff in!

Betsy: Well, I didn’t really lift it, I sort of tipped it. And I wore a mask.

Jaime: …

***

Jaime: How did those rocks get over there? They definitely weigh more than five pounds!

Betsy: I have two arms, remember?

Jaime: …

***

Jaime: Don’t you think you should take a break?

Betsy: But it’s really nice out and yard work makes me happy. It’s therapeutic!

Jaime: …

***

Jaime: I have to run an errand.  While I’m gone DO NOT finish this project by yourself!

Betsy: …

***

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This is what we started with…a weedy mess.

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Goodbye weeds, hello wood chips.

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Lucas was a big help…

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Except for when he was chasing butterflies :).

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It turned out really nicely!

Gardening and yard work really are therapeutic for me. I have always loved to be outside. I enjoy growing flowers and veggies.  Being in nature invigorates me and gives me peace–both things I needed during these weeks!

My flowers…

 

 

And vegetables.

I’ve been spending time almost every day exercising on the treadmill or outside as well and have worked up to walking two miles in 27.5 minutes. Lower back pain has made running impossible for me since the fall. It’s frustrating not to be able to jog but my doctor assures me that walking this fast will be just as beneficial. I’ve been able to continue my 10,000 daily steps as well.

I also had my 39th birthday last week! It’s crazy to think that was my last birthday in my 30s. Having cystic fibrosis gives me a different perspective on age, though. I’m so grateful to have made it this far and I’m hoping for many more years. The current predicted median survival age for CF patients is around 40 years of age.  I don’t exactly love all the new lines on my face or the fact that I’m getting more forgetful or that I spend a few hours each day with an ice pack on my back.  However I know that aging is a blessing and I don’t take it for granted.

My birthday was a lot of fun! My favorite gift was a card that Lucas picked out and personalized for me. Never mind the words, he thought it was the most beautiful card in the store and wanted me to have it. We also had a nice dinner out and got rained on at a soccer game which was a lot of fun!

Tomorrow morning is my last infusion and the nurses will come out on Wednesday for my final blood draw and to remove my line. Then it’s sweet freedom for me! I’ll see the doctor the following week to check my progress. I’m hoping and praying that this round of IVs will have done the trick and I’ll be able to find stability again.

Waging War

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It’s time for a health update and this is not the one I thought I would be giving! I had a really great winter, getting only two viruses that I was able to recover from without excessive difficulty. I was so excited as the calendar flipped from March to April, and as we sailed through May I thought for sure I was in the clear. I was dreaming of reaching new heights and regaining some lung function this summer after not battling with a myriad of bugs all winter.

A few weeks ago, however, I started to notice increased shortness of breath. I was keeping up with all my normal activities, but suddenly exercise, yard work, chasing Lucas around, and other things of that nature became more difficult. My seasonal allergies are bad at this time of year so I assumed those allergies were irritating my asthma and I wasn’t too concerned. I headed to a routine pulmonary appointment the last week of May and was surprised when my breathing test revealed that my lung function had dropped from 38% to 34%.

I had no other signs of illness or infection, so my doctor put me on five days of steroids hoping that would reduce the apparent inflammation and get me back on track. I experienced a little reprieve while on the steroids but still wasn’t feeling right, so I contacted him again last week. He put me back on the steroids and added oral antibiotics to address any infection that might be locked up and hiding in my lungs. On Friday I went in for a check and was dismayed to see that my lung function, rather than rebounding, had dropped an additional four points to 30%.

Cystic fibrosis can be puzzling. Most of the time when my lung function drops, it’s because I’m sick and I know it. Usually it starts with a virus and moves to a CF-related secondary infection. My lungs fill with mucus, my airways swell, I struggle to breathe, and I can’t wait to get relief. But this time, I feel pretty decent. I do have the shortness of breath that I mentioned earlier and my lungs have been achy, but overall I have been feeling fine and handling all my regular activities. There was nothing obvious to account for this big drop and that makes it even more unnerving.

My doctor explained that although I wasn’t exhibiting any classic signs of infection, infection is still the number one cause of a drop in lung function. The fact that I wasn’t responding to steroids probably means that although my asthma is always a component of my struggles, it wasn’t the main player in this situation. My doctor ordered a chest x-ray to rule out anything else unexpected, but that came back clear. So we have circled back to the notion of an infection.  This one is hidden, yet waging war on my lungs all the same.

To quote Farmer Boggis, “Dang and blast!” Dang and blast and a lot of other emotions too. A kind of numbness settled in at first. I just couldn’t understand it. Next, frustration. Moments like this shatter any fleeting feeling of security I may dare to believe I have. Getting through the winter unscathed was such a victory–a victory I was reveling in and so grateful for. Yet here I am with my lung function lower than it has ever been before. After a bit the frustration moved aside and the grief set in–waves of sadness swelling up and washing over me as the fears gripped my heart. My lungs are functioning at only 30%. It’s so scary.

Times like this always bring emotional struggle. It’s never just a physical battle. It’s necessary to experience the disappointment, the frustration, and the sadness and face the fears. The emotions never fit into a neat little box. There is no scheduling myself 36 hours to get over it. Friday night was rough but Saturday I felt better. Sunday I woke up in the wee hours of the morning feeling heart-broken. But in the midst of the sadness and frustration I knew it was time to get to work. The tables need to be turned. It is time to wage war against this infection.

This battle has two fronts: the physical and the emotional. Waging war means doing everything in my power. Jaime and I started doing manual percussion on my chest in addition to my normal airway clearance. Monday afternoon I headed to the hospital to get a PICC line placed and I started an IV antibiotic on Tuesday morning. My buddy the treadmill and I have been spending time together each day as currently, brisk walking has been the only thing that makes me cough mucus out.

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Attempting to show this infection who’s boss!

To balance off the treadmill work, I’ve been resting more in the afternoons. These afternoon rests are made possible by the arrival of my sister Julie from Tennessee! She got here Wednesday and will be staying through Monday to help me with chores, play with Lucas, give me moral support, and make a bad situation a heck of a lot better. She’s helping me with the physical aspect of this war but also helping all of us get through it emotionally.

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Aunt Julie is an awesome playmate and Lucas is thanking her with hundreds of hugs and kisses.

Fighting on the emotional front means a few things for me. First of all, I am committed to continue on with as much of my life and daily routines as possible. The PICC line is so great that way. There are some restrictions, but nothing too limiting. I’ve been spending time in my garden. Nature feeds my soul. I’ve been picking Lucas up from school and running an errand with him here and there.

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Lucas, holding the door for his class at pick up!

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A quick stop for some groceries and an orange balloon.

We’ve been keeping up with his school work.

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A special secret school project to thank his teacher.

I’ve continued my normal work schedule.

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Tutoring with my PICC.

I may have to cut back on some of these activities depending on how the next weeks play out, but as long as I have the strength, I want to continue on.

Most importantly, I’m trying to keep my eyes off my circumstances and on my Creator. He is the one who calms my fears and speaks peace and comfort to my heart. While I was on the treadmill the other day, a song came on that I haven’t heard for quite some time. The words were fitting. They go like this:

I will lift my eyes to the Maker
of the mountains I can’t climb
I will lift my eyes to the Calmer
of the oceans raging wild
I will lift my eyes to the Healer
of the hurt I hold inside
I will lift my eyes, lift my eyes to You

From “I Will Lift My Eyes” by Bebo Norman

These troubling circumstances are a lot to handle. These mountains are too high for me and these oceans too rough. The hurt and fear are at times more than I can bear. But none of it is too much for God, and I know my life is safe in His hands. He holds me and watches over my life. And best of all, He has already won the war.

Conversations with Lucas: Brains, Bathroom Talk & Big Words, Predators & Prayers

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Our Cutie Comedian

L: Daddy, let’s play the chasing game! But we should take our socks off so we don’t slip.

J: I’m going to leave my socks on, my feet are cold.

L: But Daddy, I really, really want you to take your socks off!

J: I’m too cold! But if I slip I’ll take them off.

L:  [Thinks for a moment…] Okay Daddy.

[Game commences]

L: Daddy, pretend you slipped!

[Jaime purposely slips and falls]

L: Okay, now take off your socks.

J: Hey!

L: You said if you slipped you’d take off your socks!!

B: I think someone outsmarted you…

J: You tricked me! But I tell you what, if you catch me, I’ll take them off.

[Frantic chasing ensues]

L: Daddy, pretend you let me get close to you…

*

[Lucas and Jaime are doing a puzzle of the United States]

L: Um, Daddy, that’s not where Nebraska goes!

J: Oh man, you’re right!

L: Yeah. I guess you’re not the smartest human in the world.

*

L: Mommy!

B: What up?

L: I just went potty.

B: OK.

L: But Mommy?

B: Yes?

L: You might want to go clean the wall.

*

L: Mommy, upstairs is Daddy’s bathroom, downstairs is your bathroom, and this is my bathroom.

B: Really.

L: Yeah. It’s special. Try your hardest to keep that in mind.

*

L: Guess what I know about science?

B: What?

L: Chicken poop helps flowers to grow! But not human poop.

*

L: Mommy, I’m all done with my lunch!

B: That’s great!

L: See! Look at my plate. It’s barren!

B: Barren?!

L: Yup! There’s nothing there!

*

L: Mommy, at my farm Henny is smart. King doesn’t know anything yet.

B: Oh?

L: Yeah, King’s igernant. Wait, what’s that word again?

B: Ignorant?

L: Yeah igernant.

*

L: Mommy, what does endemic mean?

B: Endemic? Where did you hear that?

L: On Wild Kratts, the one called Lemur Legs. It means an animal that only lives in that place like the lemurs in Madagascar.

B: Oh. Hey wait, if you knew what it meant, why did you ask me?

L: I just forgot for a moment and then I remembered.

[Lucky break…I was going to have to look it up]

*

L: Mommy, come look! The mouse is living with the owl in my barn!

B: Really? Won’t the owl eat the mouse?

L: No, this owl eats different kinds of mice. It eats technology mice.

*

L: Maybe we can get Madagascar from the library again.

J: Sure, we can do that.

B: Really? There were some scary parts. If we do we might have to fast forward through the scary parts like where the crocodile swallows the…

L: OR WE COULD JUST STAY CALM.

L: I do like Inside Out better than Madagascar. Inside Out is kind of lovely. Madagascar is kind of scary.

*

[Bedtime prayer]

L: Dear God, please help Mommy’s fingers to feel all better.  And please God, send us a new glass bowl.

*

L: Mommy, why are you just standing there?

B: I’m a little nervous to get on the treadmill.

L: Why, Mommy?

B: It’s just hard for me.

L: Don’t worry, I’ll pray for you! Dear Jesus, please help Mommy be brave to run on the treadmill so she can get all better. We love you, thanks, in Jesus Name, Amen. There. Do you feel much braver now?

B: So much braver Little One. ❤

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Conversations with Lucas, Part Five

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It’s time for another installment of Conversations with Lucas! I hope they bring a smile to your face 🙂

L: Mommy, am I holding my pencil right?

B: Yes Baby, that’s right.

L: Oh thank you! That fills my heart with joy!

[Mine too.]

*

L: Mommy, no one is allowed to touch the cell phone tower. No parents and no kids. But I am.

B: Oh, do you have special privileges?

L: No, I have gloves.

*

L: Daddy, I want you to read this book! [Points to The Three Little Javelinas by Susan Lowell]

J: Oh, the Three Little Javelinas.

L: Dad?

J: Yes?

L: Would you please stop speaking Spanish and read it the way Mommy does?

*

[Lucas, singing a song from church]

J: Lucas, if you know the songs we’re singing during church you can always sing along!

L: I know, but do you know why I wasn’t singing at church, Dad?

J: No, why?

L: I was waiting for the part where we eat the bread and dip it into that cup.

B: Oh, communion!

L: Yeah, I love that part.

B: Me too. Does it make you feel close to God?

L: Yeah, well, it’s just that being at church makes me really hungry.

*

L: Mom, do you know what?

B: What?

L: You and I have belly buttons.

B: True…

L: But Daddy doesn’t have a belly button.  Daddy has a belly hole.

*

L: Daddy and I are your husbands!

B: Well, Daddy is my husband and you are my son.

L: But we both take care of you and that’s what husbands do!

B: Yes, you’re right, but sons can help take care of their moms too.

L: Okay, I’m your five-year-old son and husband helper!

*

L: Mommy, Henny’s not playing in today’s soccer game.

B: Oh, that’s too bad.

L: Yeah, she has an attitude.

B: Uh oh!

L: Mommy, what’s an attitude?

*

L: Mommy, you feel warm.

B: I do?

L: Yeah.  Your skin is so warm it feels like the fur of a fox.

[He knows this because of all those foxes he’s touched?]

*

[Riding the bus to the hospital]

B: We’re going to pass your old preschool in a minute! And then we’ll pass by Aunt Ede’s work.

L: Then where, Mommy?

B: Then we’ll be on our way to the hospital.

L: Wow! You know almost everything!

*

B: Honey, can you please sit at the table while you’re eating? You’re making a big mess.

L: But Mommy, I can’t just sit still! I need a lot of exercise!

*

J: Did you have fun even though you didn’t want to go?

L: Yes! It was so fun!

J: I had fun too even though I didn’t want to go either.

L: But Mommy did.

J: Yeah, she was right. We should probably just listen to Mommy.

L: Yeah, girls know the right thing to do. They have better ideas than boys.

*

B: I have something to tell you. You and I are going to get a flu shot today.

L: NOOOO!!!

B: But wait, I didn’t tell you the good part yet. Daddy got the movie Inside Out for you from the library and we can watch it when we get home as a “thank you” for being brave and getting the shot.

L: Okay, I guess I’ll go.

[After surviving the shot and both watching and loving the movie…]

L: Mommy I really appreciate this.  Thanks so much for getting me that shot!

B: Um, you’re welcome?!

L: Next time I get a shot, I’ll say to the doctor, “Thank you for the shot.”

[We’ll see about that :)]

*

L: Mommy, I’m going to tell you a story.

B: Okay!

L: Once there was…[story continues for a good, long while].

B: Wow, that was quite a story!

L: Did you like it?

B: Yes…

L: Good! Because I’m going to do it again, but this time I’m gonna sing it.

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Thanks for all the smiles, funny boy.

A Health and Exercise Update

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Friday, September 9th was clinic day for me. It had been three months since I’d been in to see my CF doctor. That means that for the past three months, I’ve felt good enough that I didn’t need any visits outside of my routine check ups. I really like my doctor and I’m pretty sure he likes me too, but we were seeing way too much of each other over the winter months.

I didn’t feel too nervous leading up to the appointment, not until right before my breathing test. Then sure enough, I felt my heart rate start to rise. There are just so many nerves when it comes to that test. I have felt healthy and strong all summer which is the most important thing, but you just never know what that FEV1 number will be. It’s hard not to be anxious.

In the end I scored a 39%. It would have been great to see a big jump since I’m feeling far stronger and healthier than I did three months ago when I scored 38%, but I’ve been through this enough times to moderate my expectations. It didn’t go down so we’ll call it a success!

Everything else checked out great–my heart rate returned to normal after the test, my oxygen saturation was good, my lungs sounded clear, and my blood pressure was normal. All good signs of health. My doctor was very pleased with how I was doing and was especially happy to hear about my exercise tolerance which he reminded me (again) was just as if not more important than what my FEV1 says. He also brought to my attention that in spite of several illnesses over the winter, my FEV1 stayed stable during and after the illness and didn’t dip like it did with my struggles in the winter of 2015. Stability is a wonderful, wonderful thing when you struggle with a chronic and progressive disease like CF. I am so grateful.

Which brings me to my next update–Operation Lace Up! A few months ago I wrote that I had achieved my goal of running two miles without stopping but I intended to work on diminishing the amount of time it takes me to get through those two miles. At the time I was running them in about 26.5 minutes.  Well…I’m still running them in about 26.5 minutes. I did start working on reducing my speed as planned, but I found that when I pushed myself even a little bit harder, I was getting over tired and not having energy for the other things I wanted to do. I took a step back and reevaluated my goal. I decided to continue to run two miles three times per week at the slower pace and to shoot for increasing my overall level of activity by getting 10,000 steps or more every day (which my Fitbit measures), workout days included. The summer is a great time to be active, and specifically this summer, I had a lot of work I wanted to do on the exterior of the house after being bitten by the Clean Window Perspective bug. I had areas in the yard I wanted to spruce up and Jaime and I decided this was the summer to paint our house.

I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that yard work and painting are physically challenging to someone with reduced lung function, but I love doing these types of jobs! The sides of our house and the perimeter in the back were overgrown with weeds, so I set out to clear the weeds and move rocks from the back to the sides where they could be more useful for weed management. I’m not done yet, but things are shaping up nicely.  Here are a few photos…

 

You maybe wondering what Lucas was up to while I was doing all this work. As you can see, he helped us paint (for a few minutes) but it took some creativity to keep him occupied most of the time. I put up a tent which I filled with books for him, turned on the sprinkler, even filled a snow sled with water. (Think portable bathtub).

Working outdoors (and going back indoors a hundred times to get the other book or bath toy that Lucas wanted) really racked up those steps! So far I have been successful with my goal and am on a 75-day streak of getting 10,000 steps or more. I feel like this increased level of daily activity has improved my energy and stamina which I’m very happy about. Fall is here now and winter is coming, so I’m sure it will be more difficult to keep it up from here on out. But I’m up for the challenge 🙂

Young Fives

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The day after Labor Day was Lucas’s first day of school for this year. He is attending a half day Young Fives program at an elementary school in our district. A few weeks before school started he told me he was so excited for school to start! I wasn’t sure I believed him. Up until now, he has been very reluctant to embrace any changes in his life. However, the first day of school dawned, and he really was ready to go!

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Our sweet, eager boy on his first day of school!

Jaime drops Lucas off at school each morning, and after they were packed up and on their way that first day, I headed back downstairs to start my morning treatments and therapy. I was anxiously awaiting a phone call or text from Jaime to hear how it went.  About 20 minutes later I got this photo:

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First-day-of-school pasta necklace.

Lucas had walked right in, sat down, and got right to work on a pasta necklace. No tears, no clinging, no nervousness. Just a cheerful, “Bye, Dad!”

When I picked him up three hours later, he was all smiles and excitement. And he is still all smiles and excitement three weeks later. He is eager to go each morning, and he’s been on time every day. Well, almost every day. His morning chauffeur overslept once and they were a few minutes late. Lucas tells me all the time he loves school. We couldn’t be more pleased!

Being five, Lucas doesn’t give me a detailed report after school, but he will tell me one or two things about his day on the way home, and a few more details surface as the afternoon wears on.  Here’s what I’ve gleaned so far:

  • He adores his teacher. Apparently all the kids think she is the “awesomest.”
  • It took his teacher less than a week to figure out his favorite color. It is tradition for her to locate the orange in his outfit each day.
  • His favorite special is gym because of all the running around. No surprise there. It seems they play freeze tag a lot.
  • His best friend in the class is a boy named Beckett. They play chasing games at recess together every day. I’ve noticed that Lucas and Beckett are the only two kids dripping with sweat when I come for pick up.
  • He has never once used the bathroom at school. He disapproves of public restrooms and the classroom bathroom is no exception. Thankfully he can get through three hours without going.
  • Lucas loves playing with his own classmates but doesn’t like it when additional classes are on the playground. Apparently there are some loud girls in the other Young Fives class. He doesn’t approve.
  • The students have to sit “criss cross applesauce, pepperoni pizza sauce” during circle time. Some things never change (although we had a much more boring and politically incorrect name for it).
  • The class did a unit with Jan Brett’s book The Gingerbread Baby which Lucas loved. Being a teacher myself, I happened to have a copy in my office. I brought it up and it found its way into our bedtime story lineup. It’s a very long book.  Jaime is still mad at me.
  • I heard Lucas quoting a line from Froggy’s First Day of School by Jonathan London after his teacher read it the other day. I have that one in my office too. I plan to bring it up after I’m sure Jaime has forgiven me for The Gingerbread Baby. 
  • Lucas hopes to be in Young Fives for a very long time. Jaime told him one morning that it was his last day of school (meaning for the week) and Lucas got teary. He was relieved to hear there were still approximately 175 school days left.
  • So far there haven’t been any traditional worksheets from class, but he did bring this home from his math center:
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Lucas’s very first worksheet.

Okay, so he had seven stickers for the number six and his name could use some work, but we’re still pretty convinced he’s a genius 😉

We are so pleased with how this year has gone so far, and proud of our big boy for making such a smooth transition to five school days a week. Jaime was exhausted after the first few days of getting the two of them out the door on time, but they’ve settled into a routine and it’s gotten easier. And for me, the schedule is heavenly. I can sleep until 8:00 most mornings. I then have three hours after they leave before I need to head out. I can get through my treatments and therapy in peace. By the time I’m through those and I’ve eaten breakfast and gotten ready for the day, I usually have 45 minutes to play with. It’s great to get a load of laundry folded, some tutoring preparations done, make some phone calls, or run a quick errand solo before I’m reunited with my bundle of energy. And once he’s back home, we still have plenty of afternoon hours for our adventures. It’s great. Young Fives. We all love it.

A Look of Love

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This time of year always stirs up my emotions. As the summer draws to an end and Labor Day weekend approaches, my mind wanders back to that summer of 2004, the summer when Sheri was dying. I saw her several times then, as much as her energy would allow. In the earlier months I would bring food for her and we would play games or work on crafts to pass the time. As the summer drew to the end, the visits were short and she wasn’t able to do much more than lay on the couch.

Time softens the pain of losing a loved one in some ways. I have gotten used to not seeing her regularly. I don’t expect to see her name pop up on my email or see her neat, cursive writing on a card in my mailbox. But each year at this time, when I reflect on her life and her death, the wound reopens and feels as raw and fresh as it did that first day when I knew I wouldn’t see her again on this side of eternity. There are always torrents of tears as that longing surges up–the longing to see her, hold her, touch her, talk to her and share life with her once again.

Last night I was looking through a box of memories–photos of Sheri, emails and letters she wrote, her book of poetry. I found a few pages I had written the month after she died. I wrote:

I remember when Sheri had a bad lung infection, a blocked bowel, and the tobramycin in her system got to toxic levels. She lost part of her hearing. She lost kidney function and had to go on dialysis for a while. She was in Ann Arbor, away from home for weeks. I remember I drove her and Mom to the hospital. She had a towel and a bucket with her in case she threw up. That was the weakest I’d ever seen her. She turned and gave me a look of total love and compassion before she stepped out of the car. It was the same look she gave me the second to last time I saw her alive. I hope I never forget that look. So much was wrapped up in it. She felt so much compassion for me, watching her go through her pain and how much it hurt me to see her like that, and compassion for the fear I felt in wondering if I’d ever go through similar things, and the love she had for me and how much she wanted to protect me from all the pain she’d been through. All that was in her gaze.

I remember that moment clear as day. I can still see her with her towel and bucket and more importantly, I can see that look of love. In the midst of one of the most trying and painful times in her life, she was reaching out to me with her eyes–extending comfort, love, and understanding.  She was not so overcome by her own struggle to miss the grief of her little sister who was sad and more than a little bit scared.

That look of love brought me comfort then and it brings me comfort now. I remember Sheri’s strength, her courage, her poise, her compassion, and especially the feeling of her love. She fought for life and brought so much joy, laughter and grace into our lives. She refused to be defeated by pain. Her life may have been short by today’s standards, but she used her life for good and for God’s glory. And now in heaven, she’s experiencing only joy and peace–no need for tobra or towels or buckets or tears. Her example gives me courage and strength.

I see Sheri’s gaze only in my memory now, but I know God looks on me with those same eyes of love. His love is an everlasting, steadfast love. His mercies never come to an end. The sadness is there. The fear is there. But God is also there. And someday, we’ll be together again. When God’s purposes for my life are complete, I’ll join Sheri in heaven. It’s fun to imagine what we might do. Run a marathon just because we can? Have French fries without the side order of pancreatic enzymes? Have a fit of laughter that doesn’t end with coughing? Those things are just silly fantasies and chances are, none of that will matter. But I’m pretty certain, when I see Sheri, I’ll get to see that look of love again.

Sheri Leigh VanBruggen, September 26, 1968 – September 4, 2004

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Our Sheri, in 1985.