It's 12-12-12. At 12:12 today I'll be celebrating with a chemo party. Go chemo, go!
I've been having a hard time writing
this post. Sometimes I get a little overly excited by my own “new”
ideas and then I feel like I have a lot to say. But as I read and
re-read the wonderful comments and emails I've received on this
topic, I realize that each of you already knows exactly what you
would and should do with your life if you were facing death. For most
of us, discovering those insights is largely a matter of pausing
long enough to think about it. In truth, I'd love to write this post
by cutting and pasting from your responses. Yet, I personally find it
uplifting and inspiring to hear the insights of others in the context
of their personal life story. Those universal truths may not be
“unique”, but they are very special in the life of the individual
who has freshly discovered them. And when I connect with someone who
is sharing their experiences and insights with me they are also very
special to me. So with the understanding that what I write is not
unique or new, I will attempt to share a piece of my personal story
with you, hoping that it will be a reminder to all of us of what we
already know...
When my mom got sick with her final
round of cancer back in March I became kind of obsessed with trying
to figure out what I was supposed to do with “the rest of my life.”
I was 33 and my mom was 60. I could see that her time was slipping
away and I felt like mine was too. I kept telling Anthony that I felt
like my life was half over, but I didn't know what I was supposed to
do with the second half. He tried to console me and suggested that I
go on a vacation or find a good hobby.
The month before my mom passed away I
expressed the same concern to her – that I felt like my life was
half over and “what should I do with my next 30 years?!” My
mother, knowing the over-planning type-A personality that I am,
counseled me to not look quite so far down the road, but to just take
it a few years at a time. Later that night, as I was praying about my
question and my mom's advice, the idea came to me, “Are you being
refined by the experiences you are having?” I realized that I am.
Slowly, but surely I feel like I am improving as a person. I may have had some of my “plans” come to pass (like a college degree and having my own family), but I could never have planned on the
experiences and the people that have come into my life and changed me
for the better.
Still, I continued to wrestle with this
question. Vacations and hobbies and waiting for the kids to get in
school so I could have spare time circled in my brain, but failed to
feel meaningful. What was I supposed to do with my life?!
Then my mom died. And I felt like I was
picked up by a freight train and propelled along a speeding and
wondrous journey. Physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally I
was experiencing so much so quickly I could hardly keep up. I found
my cancer two weeks later and the bulleting train discovered
warp-drive. In fact, it was so overwhelming for me that the muscles
in my back locked-up to the point that it was difficult to walk (or
even sit or sleep). (Actually, I'm still trying to recover my full
mobility, though it's mostly there now). Following the encouragement
of a friend, I spent a few of my sleepless nights
recording some degree of the experience. It's way too
stream-of-consciousness to plop it all down on this blog, but the
point is that these past few months have been crazy difficult and
strangely wonderful.
Now here it is only 3 months after that
conversation with my mom and these days I really hope that my life is
only half over and that I
really do have 30 more years of learning and growing ahead of me! And
now I have no choice but to take it just a few years at a time. But
in facing death, I discovered the answer to my question: What am I
supposed to do with my life?
As I said before,
my answer is not unique, it is not mind-blowing. It is something we
all strive for, but too often get distracted from. It is the same
answer that lies at the heart of all the thoughts and comments that I
have received from all of you on this topic. It is simply this: To
Love Without Fear. Those are the words that came into my mind,
but I've heard it expressed a few other ways recently: “Live life
with gratitude and love”, “I have been placed on this earth to
learn how to love people”, “I would do those things that allow me
to love”, “I would record my love”; or to quote my favorite
play, Les Miserables, “To love another person is to see the face of
God.”
That is the wisdom.
The practice of love comes in dozens of small and often challenging
ways. I've loved your ideas - and thank you for sharing them - and have integrated them
into my own list of ideas:
- Leaving love notes and videos for your kids
- Making a blanket or scrapbook or other keepsake for your kids
- Going on a special vacation with your spouse
- Leaving love notes for your spouse
- “Getting things in order” like your will, insurance papers, bank accounts and passwords (without losing too much time to it)
- Writing your personal history
- Recording your testimony
- Writing, reading or sharing the history of your parents and grandparents. Especially those who have preceded you in death. Wouldn't it be nice to know them when you meet them in heaven?
- Giving up obsessions with housekeeping, facebook, blog reading, TV watching, etc to actually focus on your children and spouse and be present in the moment. I think those things have their place: Housekeeping – as one friend put it – is a (sometimes mundane) way of serving and loving your family; facebook and blogs give us a chance to uplift and encourage each other; and it can be bonding and relaxing to share a fun TV show with your spouse or kids. But... I have found myself sometimes chewing out my rowdy kids because they were distracting me from posting something on the computer... and the subject of my post?... How cute and wonderful my kids are! Sometimes we lose focus.
- Using right now to build up your child's confidence about whatever they are doing (someone else can harp on their stick-figure drawings, but only you can convince them of your unconditional love).
- Saying “I love you” more often to more people.
- Reconciling any ill relationships (as much as the other person will allow it), because there is no time left to do this when a person is dying.
- Doing fun, unique things to create memories (like family vacations, or small family outings)
- Creating and fostering traditions that will last in your family's lives after you are gone and will remind them of you.
- Putting less on your “to-do” list so you can be open and receptive to “to-do”-ing what's truly important each day.
- Making sure you are prepared to meet God. That one opens up ALL the rest of the love you can hope to give and it is the quest of a lifetime. But even if you feel pretty good on that point, consider when was the last time you actually checked in on that one?
- Living life as normally as possible (why else did God give us life in this manner), but with more gratitude and more joy.
- Finally, doing all of this stuff (even I have to make specific goals and deadlines to work on these things and I am highly motivated right now).
And if
you have 15 or more years to go?
- Make a HABIT out of all of the above!
- If you keep a blog or a journal – awesome! Anthony pointed out to me that even if I didn't have any time left to do anything, thanks to my 6-year-old blog, my kids already have lots to read about me, our family and my love for them. That's such a comforting thought.
- Be sure you have regular installments about each child's personality and why you love them (birthdays are perfect times for this). And regular installments about your spouse and why you love them (anniversaries are perfect for this).
Ok, I have to end this post with a
confession. There is a comment I get quite often, both verbally and
in emails, and I have to admit it makes me cringe and laugh at the
same time. It is some form of, “Wow, you are so brave.” I cringe
because I am reminded of the seriousness of my condition. I laugh
because I honestly feel like I'm going to be around to hear that
comment for a long time! Yes,
it is brave to go
through cancer treatments and yes it is definitely
brave to wrestle with your own mortality, but my dear friends, we are
ALL going to die. When is a better time to wrestle with my mortality?
When I'm 90? When I'm rolling end-over-end in a freeway collision? I'd rather have time to appreciate and make use of my time rather than lose my life suddenly. Maybe I'm not the brave one, maybe I'm the lucky one.
From my Dad. Priceless to me and worth sharing:
ReplyDeleteWhen your mom had faced down the prospect of her mortality, your she made an important decision that the disease wouldn’t get anything extra from her. She determined that she would get as much out of each day as the disease and treatments allowed, and try not to let in fear, regret, negativity, self-doubt, guilt, etc. to take anything from what was left. She wouldn’t fight the hard days; but would surge when the openings came.
As one faces the prospect of a significantly shortened life, the time you have automatically becomes precious. You begin to more fully appreciate any time with loved ones, the beauty of this glorious planet, the nobility of people, the value of experiences--even the lousy experiences. Though gratitude comes naturally, it can be cultivated to become stronger and more meaningful as one of most precious gifts of a shortened life. I’d thank Father each day for another day to experience, to love, and to grow as a person. When special moments and experiences caught my attention, I’d try to pause a moment to drink it in and then to utter a thanks.
I would video-record myself for my family—especially for the young ones who have less context for ours and their lives. I would bear my testimony. I’d let them know how much they mean to me, and why. I’d let them know that I love and always will live them unconditionally. I’d let them know about the hopes and dreams I have for them; but I would confirm that I mostly wanted them to determine their own life and to find the happiness that comes from being careful to make good decisions and decisions that are good. I would ask them to never doubt that my spouse loves them and loves me. I would bear my testimony that the Gospel is the surest way to their happiness. I would record me with them reading some stories, having some discussions, telling some jokes, saying “I love you”, hugging them. Not a need to obsess, just a place to go when they want to snuggle up with visual and aural memories. I would record messages of love, and support for my spouse, and affirm my covenant to them.
I would absolutely learn to have completely honest conversations with Father. I’d open my heart about fears, angers, apprehensions, pains, frustrations and ask him to help me heal them. I’d confess openly when I was struggling to get past some issues, and ask Him to help me get stronger. I’d accept His comfort. I’d acknowledge His love for my family. I’d visit any negative feelings I’d held against others and ask Him to help me let them go. When I felt overwhelmed with issues, I’d tell Him I needed Him to take my emotional burdens, and let them go. I would gradually learn to completely trust my fate to Him.
Some preparations matter. I’d leave instructions for tasks I did. If it became too hard for me, I’m not sure I would load myself up with the details of the life after me; but I would list out what those topics could be, and either facilitate my spouse’s preparations, or encourage them to talk with others who can help them think things out and make preparations. If I had funeral requests, I’d let them be known. I’d plead with my spouse not to be too hard on themselves, if they didn’t get it all right. (I’d consider a letter to my spouse’s future spouse, thanking them for being there to love those I had cherished; acknowledging the challenges of being the new person in that household; giving them support for loving and parenting their own way.)
15 years? If you can approach living for just a year, then 15 years is a lifetime. Following your mother’s example of embracing life, living with gratitude and love, and without fear and regret, and trusting Father, you will have more life than most people get in a full lifetime. You will then be the paradox of having created a void that can never be filled, but will forever be filling the lives of those you leave behind. And the testimony part? The things you have been taught about Eternal Life are absolutely true and beyond mere reality.
From my sister Heather. Another gem needing to be shared:
ReplyDeleteI think my feelings on this have changed over the years as we have experienced different things with Mom. I remember when she was diagnosed with the metastasized cancer and they had given her a time frame of several years. At that point everything seemed so heavy and so permanent. Everything we did was a "could this be the last time". After a couple of months I think we all came to the conclusion that we couldn't live on the heightened sense of making everything the "last" and more or less life settled back in to normal patterns and routines.
During the week of Mom's passing I remember thinking over and over again how glad I was that there were no big items of reconciliation or regrets. It was nice to have spent time doing things and having the relationships in place so that it wasn't a rush of activity or trying to make things happen. I also came to the conclusion that there will always be more to do or things you wanted to get to-conversations I wanted to have, questions I wanted to ask but never did because I wasn't at a point in my life where I needed to (things about marriage and kids). And, that you will never get to them all but the big and important things were there. The memories, the activities, the relationships.
So not even having the idea of having a year to live or 15 years-I have changed my perspective on things that are important and where I want to invest my time. I have spent less time on "my activities" like crafts. And while I still get enjoyment from these I am trying to spend more time with people and really enjoy my interactions versus worrying about what else I have on my docket and need to get to. I have also decided that anything that is of importance to me gets top priority. They no longer become a when I get around to you. Also I have found over the last years that objects mean less to me and I put a lot more stock in memories and memory building activities.
The one thing I think I would do and would like to do more of is have more conversations about myself and other people with them. Find out about who they are and what makes them tick. It has been surprising to me listening to the recordings you have of Mom how many of these things I knew and how many I didn't. For someone that I had such a close relationship with I am surprised in some instances how little I knew about my Mom.
Heidi--I'm sitting here in tears reading your eloquent, perfectly said post. I wanted to print it and put it on my fridge. I've been telling Bret and my family how your battle has truly caused me to pause and to reflect on where/what/how I spend my time. Your words are so very, very wise. Thank you for sharing them! Love you cute friend!!! Good luck at 12/12/12 today. I'll be thinking of you.
ReplyDeletep.s. I'm so sad we didn't get to visit in person...however, everyone else got the bug this weekend (Kelsey is currently throwing up) so I'm SO grateful I didn't share that with you :)
Such tender thoughts, insights, and counsel from you, your father, and your sister! How can anyone read that without crying and without reinspecting their own lives to see where they stand and what changes in perspective and focus they can make to ensure they are living their lives to the fullest?! Thanks for sharing your personal journey with us. You are, and will continue to be for MANY years to come, a great inspiration to, not only those who know and love you, but also to those that will read about you. Thanks for being that inspiration to me. Love you! (Oh, and give that nephew of mine a hug and a peck on the cheek for me. He has always held a very special place in my heart!)
ReplyDeleteThis is just beautiful! I am so lucky to have you as a friend! Just today I went out in the backyard with David and played smash ball. (snowball baseball) it only took 15 minutes but I bet he will not forget it :) Thanks for the reminders!
ReplyDeleteWhat an eloquent piece of work. I love reading what you write. It is uplifting, insightful and convicting (in a good way of course). Thank you for sharing these parts of yourself with us. Like Julie, I spent the evening playing Scrabble with my 7 year old although I was tempted to do other things. And I don't regret it one bit.
ReplyDelete