Well, the blog has ground to a
temporary halt this summer. Summer is usually the time that we get
out and do things, and try to find stuff that is worthy of writing
about. Unfortunately, lately that quest became seemingly very
unimportant in the scheme of life. When something like this happens
in your life, it really throws your perception of what really is a
biggee, and what isn't.
My mother was diagnosed with breast
cancer in the spring. It seemed like bad news after bad news
followed. I'll never forget the look on her face when she received
the call that there was nothing that the doctors could do and that
treatments would be ended. It felt like all of the air was sucked out
of the room. Mom's spirit was totally deflated after the call, and
she stared off into space. She had recently been having the time of
her life, playing music and travelling with Lloyd, and they had so
many future fun adventures planned. It all seemed overwhelmingly
unfair. Fortunately we live close by and were able to spend lots of
time with her those last months. Mom grew weaker and weaker, and near
the end of July, with Lloyd faithfully at her side, her battle was
over. Words will never adequately describe the hole that is left in
our lives. We were left totally numb. It felt like the months after
breaking my neck, a low point is reached beyond which more bad news
means nothing, you've reached your limit. Needless to say, things
that used to be a big deal no longer are. All of the normal fun
things seem unimportant, and therefore unappealing. Hence I have very
little cool and fun stuff to write about. We have done very little
camping, no flying since June, not even any fishing yet. I know from
past experience that this will pass, and my friends and family have
been so great at helping us to get back to (the new) normal. Mom will
be sorely missed, but we must remember that there was a lot more to
her life than the last few months of sickness. She had many years of
health and happiness, a lot of exciting adventures, and was loved by
so many people. We must say goodbye for now, but we know that it is
only for now.
Goodbye Mom.
Mom's passing reminded me of a story I
wrote after my father passed away six years ago, I hope he built his
cabin in paradise.