Caregivers

The Power of Faith: Overcoming Feelings of Loneliness and Isolation

As I reflect on our experience with cancer, I’m reminded of how isolating that season of my life was. Enter the pandemic that forced us into physical isolation.

Dear Cancer, Do You Remember Me?

Dear Cancer,

I wish I could start with, “Hello old friend, and thank you for all the ways you’ve shaped my growth,” as I have written before, but today that feels like a lie. One thing I’ve lost the ability to do is lie to protect you. Today I am still grieving and angry. Today I can’t see past all you have taken from me.

Can you even remember me? You took my mother in ‘88 when I was just a kid, and yet I thanked you. I thought my debt had been paid. You taught me to love every day, not just on good days, and I thanked you.

Dear Cancer, You Taught Me Loss and Light

Dear Cancer,

For a long time, I thought you only came into other people’s homes. You certainly would never enter mine and wreak havoc. Until you did. When I was fifteen you filled my home and apparently my dad’s bloodstream as well. Leukemia. When we told people the news they would cry, and I never understood why. What’s wrong? This won’t take him down. Do you know my dad? He is as tough as nails!

Facing the Unseen Challenges of Survivorship with Positivity

My daughter, Cecilia, was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL) at the tender age of three, and just like that, my world (and hers) was turned upside down. In an instant, I became not only her attentive Mama but a ferocious Caregiver—two very different jobs.

You Could Say Cancer Changed My Career

Has cancer changed my career? Um, yes.

Another layer to this question is when did it change my career?

Let me take you back in time to my dreams and aspirations as a young kid from Westlake, OH. All of my childhood years, there was nothing else I wanted to do except play football. There were, of course, other sports that I played along the way, but being a 6’2”, 275 pound kid in high school, it was pretty obvious what sport I was going to play.

Grief During the Holidays

It is okay not to feel Joy when you hear “Joy to World.”

At this moment, as I walk through the stores and hear “Joy to the World,” I have a visceral reaction: I shudder. I want to walk out of the store and roll my eyes. I am not a grinch. I love Christmas; it is one of, if not my favorite holiday.

Complicated Grief

Complicated Grief: When Losing a Parent to Cancer and Parental Alienation Collide

When my husband died from complications of cancer 13 years ago, I endured the relentless waves of grief that young widows and widowers are forced to ride when we lose a partner and the parent to our young children. Not only do we mourn their partnership and all our shared future dreams, but we also mourn the parent our kids have lost, and the significance of that parent/child relationship our children will never get to experience.

The Moment . . .

Have you seen a soul enter this world? 
Have you felt a room fill with the energy of new life? 
You can feel it. 
The moment this tiny being joins you on this side, the room changes. 
There is an electricity, a palpable jolt that all who are privileged to be present get to feel. 
It is magic. 

Sisterhood of the Matching Scars

As I step out from the shower and wipe the condensation from the mirror in front of me, I see a woman who has been through more than anyone my age should have ever had to endure. Five scars—from my breasts to my lower abdomen and from countless biopsies and two different surgeries. Four permanent tattoos from radiation sprawled across my chest.

The Cost of Caregiving: Survivor’s Guilt

If I could turn back time, I certainly would. I try not to live life in the rearview, yet, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. I also believe that we learn from our past so that we can focus on our future more intentionally. However, after losing a loved one to cancer after years spent caregiving, I have admittedly experienced some survivor’s guilt. It has washed over me in waves and disrupted the life and identity I once had.