Unreal Reality

 Oxymoron? Maybe. But for me, May 6, 2005 was an unreal reality. Here's how that day unfolded:

The early hours of that day were eerily quiet. I remember emailing my friend, Betty, telling her all about the events of the previous day and suddenly realizing it was very quiet in our home at 2am. It was never quiet in our home, even at 2am. We had an eighteen month old who literally never slept for more than 45 minutes at one time; she had severe reflux that caused a lot of pain and would abruptly waken her (and us) at all hours of the day and night. It had been nearly 45 minutes and the house was quiet. She was still sleeping! (Albeit, propped up in her crib and looking very uncomfortable.) Todd and I, and more recently my Mom, would take turns holding her through the night. But this night she was in her crib, Todd was in a hospital bed, and I was typing at the computer. All was unusually quiet. 

Of course it wasn't long before I was rocking and holding and trying to soothe our screaming 18 month old daughter as Todd continued to lie in the hospital bed. I "woke up" around 4 or 5 without the screams of our youngest. My Mom was tending to her, so I tended to Todd and gave him the medicines he needed to keep him from being in too much pain. He was suffering from advanced four stage renal cell cancer, that had spread throughout his body and had even begun into his bones. He could no longer get out of bed. Two days before he had had a piece of pizza for dinner, in bed, and since then he wasn't moving much, or talking much anymore. He was in agony. We had many visitors, and some who stayed the night because I was so scared he was going to die when no one was around. 

The previous four months had been a blur, a fog, an unbelievable nightmare when Todd was diagnosed, spent over a month at NIH, endured an eight hour surgery where he suffered a stroke, infections, loss of eye sight in his left eye, hallucinations, and memory loss, and now he had only been told a week ago there was nothing more they could do for him. Here we were the morning of May 6, 2005, with him unable to get out of bed, not eating, and barely talking, being in severe chronic pain, and taking meds every few hours to try to help him find some relief. The hospice nurse kept increasing the dosages and times when we were giving him the narcotics. Soon it was time for the morphine. Now he was unable to swallow, so we were giving him morphine (as well as other medications) with a syringe at the back of his throat beside his tongue. 

After giving him some more morphine around 7 am, I just sat next to him and held his hand. The hospice nurse had told me the day before that she felt like he was trying to "hold on" for me and the kids, and that I needed to tell him it was ok "to go." I didn't want to do this. How could I tell my husband of 17 years that it was ok for him to die? Tears filled my eyes, and I looked at his eyes and began, "I love you so much. I hate seeing you like this." A friend, Karen, had spent the night with us, and she was nearby listening, praying, and encouraging me to keep talking. So...

I repeated how much I loved him and thanked him for loving me. I thanked him for loving our children, and then named each one and the different things he shared with each one, reminding him of how very special he was to each of our children. I also reminded him of how there were so many friends and family who were there and loved him and our family so very much. I told him so many cared for us and would continue to care for us. He was smiling with tears in the corners of his eyes and he kept nodding his head. Then I asked if he saw any angels, (I remembered my grandfather had seen angels right before he had passed away), reminding him that God would never leave him and that to be absent from the body was to be present with the Lord. He nodded and looked up to the corner of our room. Karen and I got chills. We were in the presence of angels! Then I told him that if it was time for him to go, that it would be ok, and that we would be ok. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to say.

Later that morning, I repeated the same speech about loving him, him loving us, how special he was, thanking him for the assurance of knowing he would be with Jesus because of his faithful testimony in trusting Him to be his Savior, and then finally telling him it was ok to go when God called him. While I was telling him how there were so many that would take care of us, I mentioned that Karen's husband, a good friend to both of us, was cutting our grass for us at that very moment and asked if he could hear the mower. As he was shaking his head yes, the mower apparently hit something because it made a loud sound and stopped. He gave me a big smile, and we laughed. Sure, it wasn't the same with Todd mowing, but it was getting done and we were both grateful for that!

At around 3 pm Todd's breathing became labored and raspy. In just a few hours he seemed to begin struggling for every breath. 

The following is from an email I wrote to my friend, Betty, who lived in NM. It's the best way I know to finish the story of May 6, 2005:

My husband, my best friend, my love was dying in front of me, Betty, and there was nothing I could do to help him. 

We kept giving him the morphine and anti-anxiety meds, and called hospice, which told us we could give them every hour now, and added a med to dry up the secretions, which never worked.  I couldn't stay in there any more.  I went out on the deck when he was breathing so noisy and slow.  It was torture to sit and listen and watch.  Kim came out and said it was ok, that I didn't have to go back in.  She said her and Kelly were with their dad around the clock, then they went home for a shower, came back and he was gone.  She always thought that was because he felt he could go and not have them go through that pain of watching him go.  So she said it was fine I wasn't in there, and maybe Todd would recognize that and feel better leaving without me there, knowing I wouldn't have to endure that.  I felt so terribly guilty, but I couldn't make myself to go back in there.  Then Kim came out around 6:30 and gave me that look.  He was gone. She held me tight and we just cried.  I started shaking all over.  I suddenly felt all alone.  I ached all over.  My world crashed in.  I couldn't speak or even breathe.  This continued, and I couldn't even tell the kids, but they knew. Nathan came over and we hugged awhile, then each one came and gave me a hug. Winter said, "Daddy's in heaven now, why are you crying?"  And I told her how much I missed Daddy already. Even though the house was literally filled with friends and family, I felt so lonely. Could he really be gone? Am I really left here alone? Please tell me this is a nightmare and I will wake up soon.

Kelly walked back with me, so I could see him.  That was so hard.  I suddenly felt so angry at him for leaving, and yet I told him it was ok to go, but it just suddenly wasn't ok anymore!  It stinks!  It makes me so angry!  How can this be happening?

Thanks again for the all the encouragement and especially those prayers.  It means so much.  You are right, this is truly unbelievable, but God is good and showing Himself a source of strength and comfort. Everything hurts and nothing makes sense, but God is good. He is able. He will get us through.

Saturday, February 27, 1988

 It's not very often February 27th falls on a Saturday, but today happens to be one of those occasions. Today, on a Saturday, 33 years ago, I married Todd J Radle. I will never, ever forget that day. It truly was a fairy tale wedding! We had over 300 guests from all over the country. It began bright and sunny, then rain, then sleet, and ended in blanketing the area in snow. That may not sound like a fairy tale to you, but to me, I was amazed that we had all types of weather in one day...our day! 

I was privileged to spend 17 years married to this man. And he was such a great husband and father, leaving us with so many great memories. But that's why it's still difficult to not cry when I remember those times. There are smiles too, but for some reason, even after all these years, I cry. I miss him. He was so good to us. Thank you, hon, for all those memories. And thank you, dear Heavenly Father, for allowing us to live those many years with such a fun, loving, godly man. I wish it were more, but am so thankful for those we were gifted with him.

Betty

 I have tried to start writing this many times. I can't seem to find the right words, though, to describe Betty and the impact that she has had on my life. For several years I truly believed Betty was an angel, for I never met her in person, hadn't even seen pictures of her until recently, and she always had the perfect words to say when I was at my worst and when I was at my best. 

My first encounter with Betty was in 1999 on an online forum entitled "Praying for our children." It was here hundreds (maybe thousands) of moms across the world would communicate with each other about their children and how best to pray for them. Some would type out prayers after reading requests; others would make suggestions; and still others would ask more questions in order to pray with more understanding. Betty did all of these things. I felt she had zeroed in on my particular needs, and we soon began sharing more private emails just between ourselves. This was clearly God at work in our lives to bring us together, as it proved to be the beginning of a long friendship, encouraging each other in the Lord and praying diligently for our children and for each other's children. I live in Pennsylvania, and I found out Betty lived in New Mexico. We were worlds apart geographically, but so close to each other's needs and requests and victories with praise, that the distance never mattered. 

There was never a day that passed that I didn't check my email to see if there was an email from Betty in those early days of our friendship. It was common to send and receive at least one email, sometimes more, every single day for years between us. When Todd got sick in 2004, there were also several times that she would tell me to call her or she would call me very late at night or in the wee hours of the morning (when our children were sleeping, so that I/we could actually hold a conversation). Her voice was calm. Soothing. Angelic. As Todd's health declined, Betty became my lifeline. At the time, she was attending pharmaceutical school and was extremely busy with studying and attending classes. Yet she would often take the time to either email or call to explain medical terminology and offer suggestions to help Todd. I thank God, even today, that He used her to help us get Todd into NIH (National Institutes of Health) for his major surgery that no other hospital confidently felt they could handle. 

After Todd's passing, Betty was there. She listened to my aching heart. She endured countless emails of never-ending pleas for relief from the pain and agony I was enduring. She patiently would return emails of encouragement, telling me to take one day (or hour or minute) at a time and to "climb up in Father's lap and just let Him hold you." She insisted, for then, that I simply needed to rest in our Heavenly Father's lap and let Him do the rest. Gradually she encouraged me to take baby steps as she saw I could move forward. She never let me stay "stuck" in my grief. She needed to gently push me, knowing my potential and always encouraging me to take those steps with Father's help, leaning on Him for every small advancement. I couldn't see a difference, but she would often tell me she did and "show" me over and over that God was truly working and that I was making progress. Honestly, without Betty's continuous emails, I truly believe I would still be stuck in my grief and not be doing anything to help myself or my children. But by God's grace, now 16 years after Todd going to heaven, and with Betty's encouragement and prayers, I can face each day with the confidence that God will sustain and help and guide me through the rest of this life.

Over the past decade our emails began to get more sporadic. We would check on each other periodically, and be sure to share the big events in our children's lives as well as our own. After finally getting the pictures from my son's wedding, I emailed Betty to share our special day with her. 

The next morning her husband emailed me back. Betty had passed away on September 13, 2020. At first the email didn't make sense. There was no way. But very quickly, before I even finished reading the details and rest of his email, my eyes filled with tears. I'm still having difficulty believing this (thus why I haven't been able to write this for so long). Several friends and acquaintances have died since Todd's death, but none have hit me like the loss of Betty. It can't be real, can it? Betty? My rock? The one who is always there for me? Once again, I feel so alone. It is only Jesus. He will never leave. Time to crawl back up in Father's lap.

Forever in our hearts. I miss you, my dear, dear precious friend. Until heaven...

Drum Roll....Officially Tales of Eight Kids!!

 

Words cannot easily describe the wonderful weekend we had at the marriage of my son and his beautiful bride. From my parents and Tiffany and Brad arriving last Wednesday, the great "family" times we enjoyed, setting up for the rehearsal dinner and then watching the pieces fall into place for a fun time that evening, getting ready for the big day, arriving early to help with a few details, to each event of the wedding, Nathan and Lydia's wedding was a pure delight to my soul. I think seeing so many family members and having my children and both of my parents all together at the wedding was my biggest joy. 

I'll post some pics below, but before I do, I wanted to give a huge shout-out to the Flegal family. Mr. and Mrs. Flegal both worked so hard to make Lydia's dreams come true, and I believe they succeeded! They were the perfect host and hostess to a gorgeous wedding and spectacular reception. There were only a few times when I cried. The first was when Nathan saw his bride in her gown for the first time and filled with tears as he continued to watch her walk towards him with tears streaming down his face. That made me cry. 

                                                                    

Another was when Mr. Flegal chose to by-pass the traditional answer to "Who gives this woman away?"'s Her mother and I, when he turned around, faced the guests, and began..."I'm the father..." Yes, he was the father. Todd was not there, and I suddenly missed Nathan's father. That made me cry. 

He continued to talk about how he knew Nathan many years (reminding everyone that he and Nathan were friends before Lydia and Nathan were!), watched him grow up, and was giving Lydia away to him without any hesitations. That made me cry.                                                                                       

                                                                            

The tears ceased for several hours and were replaced with plenty of smiles and laughter. Then it was time for Nathan to dance with his mom (me). We danced to This Is How You Walk On, and we talked the entire time. I told him how proud I was of him. I told him the wedding was beautiful and his bride was elegant and beautiful as well. He told me he had put Dad's pin on his vest, and when he had asked the photographer to get a picture, she suggested he move it more visible...to his jacket's lapel under his boutonniere. "Look," he said after I asked if he had moved the pin. So I did. That made me cry.

                                                   

Even before Covid-19 was ever heard of, Lydia wanted an outdoor wedding. Thornbury Farm was the chosen venue, months before Covid-19 restrictions were placed, so things worked perfectly and the setting was breathtaking. Here's some pictures...

                            

         

 

 

Pumpkins

 Every year since Todd and I were married, we would go early October to pick out pumpkins. As the children got older, we would let them each pick out a pumpkin. The tradition continues...

This time we decided to put all the pumpkins together by our front door. We also added two small pumpkins for the twins and one a little larger for Benny, bringing our grand total to fourteen this year! The gang's all here! Yes, Daddy's and the baby's are on the front step too! Happy fall!

Soon To Be Tales of EIGHT Kids!

 That's right! My son is getting married in just a few short weeks to his sweet fiance, Lydia! We are thrilled for them and so excited to gain a new "kid" to our family.

So I noticed it's been a whole year since I've added anything to the blog. Life has gotten quite busy watching little ones this past year. We are blessed to watch my great nephew, Benny, while Dad and Mom are working! He has been such a joy and blessing for us.

We are also privileged to watch twin identical boys this past year! Peter and  Noah have given us a lot of smiles and enjoyment too. My girls like to confuse me and switch them around, and they have been successful more than once!

I can tell you, I've had my hands full, but full of great things and big blessings!

My heart is full, especially with our first visit since Christmas (because of Covid restrictions) from Tiffany and Brad. It was so good to have all of the kids here on the Fourth of July!

So, my introduction of another name change to my blog got sort of got side-tracked with how full my days have been watching little ones, but nonetheless, look out for a new name change soon! Tales of Eight Kids is coming in the very near future!

Fourteen Years (4 months late in posting)

Yesterday, May 6, 2019, marked fourteen years since Todd went to heaven. That may sound like a long time to many of you, and some may even think, "Oh, she has surely gotten over the pain and is no longer grieving after all those years." But I wanted to write tonight to let all who read this that no one ever "gets over it" or stops grieving. Ever.

The reason for this is because Todd is always present in some way, whether it be in memories, in pictures on the walls, in my children's faces and mannerisms, his empty place in bed or at the dining table, movies or television shows that we watched together and now watch together without him, mail addressed to him that still comes, phone calls asking for him (yes, I still get those), forms asking for my marital status, making decisions by myself, doing chores that were once his (I really hate scrubbing the tub!), taking the van and car to get inspections and repairs, signing permission slips as a single parent, sitting in church without him with couples all around, making his favorite meals knowing he won't be eating it, and so many, many more. See, we live with him still present in these things every single day. There has never been a day that passed since he went to heaven those 14 years ago that he hasn't been in my thoughts.

Every night I ask God to somehow make it possible that Todd knows we still love him and miss him, and often to let him know that we are doing well. Especially after major milestones in the kids lives: Please, Father, let Todd know Toby was on the Honor Roll again with all A's! Please, Father, let Todd know that Winter has become an awesome writer and has the same gift of singing like he has! Please, Father, let Todd know Tiffany fell in love and got married! Please, Father, let Todd know that Katrina has become an incredible young lady who loves You and seeks to serve You in everything! Please, Father, let Todd know that Nathan bought his own house! Please, Father, let Todd know that Abe has been doing a great job at his workplace and how very proud he would be of Abe's work ethic, never missing days or goofing off.  ....and on and on it goes. Every night.

I just wanted people to know that even though it's been fourteen years, we still miss Todd/Daddy, and always will. And it still hurts...especially on these kinds of days. There are still nights where I cry myself to sleep, or cry when I think no one is looking when the loneliness consumes me.

Grief remains. And the pain can be around any corner or any bend, but always with change or milestones.

This broken heart will only be whole again in heaven, and this is my hope! This is how I keep going. One day there will be no more tears and no more grief. Until then, we keep going. One day at a time.

Day By Day...

..and with each passing moment!  ...strength I find, to meet my trials here.

I often recall that Thursday morning, the day before my dear husband passed, standing next to his bed and watching him struggle to breathe. A great man of God and his sweet wife were visiting with us. With tears streaming down my face, I confessed to him that I didn't think I could take any more. He wisely asked, "Can you just make it to the end of today?" This was in the morning, and I began to shake all over and sobbed, "No."
He quietly said, "How about making it to dinner time? Do you think you can do that?"
"No."
"Just make it to lunch. Do you think you can make it to lunch?"
"No."
"OK. That's fine," he said softly and gently. "Let's try to focus on the next hour. Can you try to make it through this next hour?"
I looked at Todd, heard his raspy breath, saw him laying there so still, knowing he was in pain, then put my head down and cried, "I can't make it another hour, Pastor. I just can't."
"Alright, then. Let's do this by the second. By the moment. You've just made it through three of them. Now keep going. Breathe." And then he prayed. He prayed for me, for Todd, for the children, each by name, and then for me again. That was more than a few moments! I had made it. I still needed to focus on those moments through the day, but eventually it got to be minutes. Then I was able to move to hours. And you know, baby steps: a few hours strung together, eventually days, weeks, and now, once in a while, a whole month.

I can't tell you how many times I think of the words to that hymn, Day By Day. Through all of these 13 years and 9 months, God has always been here. He has never left me. He has been so faithful. And He gives me the strength for each moment and yes, each day!

A few months ago I came to that point again of thinking I couldn't go on. Through this past summer, my health was not great. Among other problems, the dermatologist found a basal cell skin cancer mole on the side of my nose and another group of irregular cells higher, but near to the other mole. Since my daughter was to be married in August, we decided to have the basal cell removed in early September, which we did and all went well.
For that other group of "build-up of irregular plasma cells," I was told it was not cancerous, but that I needed to see a specialist: a hematologist/oncologist. That sounded cancerous to me! Once there the specialist explained I had "Extramedullary plasmacytoma," which basically is cancer, but not like normal cancer. He did his best to explain this to me, but also said it could be a sign of other plasmacytomas in other places in my body, like my bones or bloodstream. In other words, this could be a sign of leukemia or another kind of cancer in my body. I have to be honest, and say these words did not phase me very much. I have been longing for heaven for 13 years! However, telling the kids would be difficult. That's when I became concerned....for them. One was married in the summer, and another moved to his own home,  but that still leaves 4 kids at home, with our youngest being only 15.

Well, we all began taking each day as it came. Day By Day....again. Over the next few weeks were a series of tests: first there was the bone marrow biopsy, which thankfully was normal. Then there was the PETscan, which again, thankfully was normal. Then they did a CTscan and set me up to do radiation in order to get rid of the apparent single plasmacytoma on the side of my nose. Day By Day...sometimes Moment by Moment.

Radiation treatment involves 5 days a week for 5 weeks. Day By Day. Each morning they need to numb my right eyeball and slide a lead shield over it to protect it from the radiation. Moment by Moment. Then they place a mesh mask over my face and head. Moment by Moment. Then they make sure I can breathe, tell me to stay still, and leave the room. Moment by Moment. Then I hear the humming noise and, although my eyes are taped closed, can "see" the light. Moment by Moment. When it's all done, they come back in the room and remove the face mask and lead shield, and place a patch over my eye. I can't drive for 20-30 minutes, so I need to sit in the waiting room until I am able to drive. Day By Day.

Admitingly, it's not easy to pass these signs every day, but it has allowed me to see a whole different world. A privileged world. A world of men and women who struggle every day, yet who smile and are willing to share their story to a stranger. After the first day, they are no longer strangers. They are comrades. They are fighters. I pray I am able to help them in their fight, and share some Light in their weary days.
 
Currently I am midway through my 4th week of radiation! Side effects are minimal, but beginning to cause conflicts with work.

I was so excited and thrilled to be blessed with one of the best jobs I have ever had! I now work as a tutor for Brandywine Academic Services, and the owner is a believer in Jesus Christ! It is such a blessing to work for someone who I know is praying for me and who wants to run her business as a mission to honor the Lord. I have been really enjoying working with each new student God has allowed me to tutor!

And despite the itchy, sore, red eye, bright red spot on the side of my face, and fatigue setting in, God has provided the strength needed for each tutoring session! Day By Day. There have been some days where I just don't feel like I can make it, and in those days, God miraculously changes the schedule to provide the rest needed. Every. Time. !!!  Day By Day.

Through all of this, I have been enlightened to things I don't believe I ever would have been, had it not been for the trials. First, it's a lot easier (at least for me) going through the trial myself, than watching a loved one go through the trial. Second, the closer I am in walking Day By Day and Moment by Moment to an Almighty God, the more I am able to see Him at work in the details, and that's amazing! Just amazing!

My prognosis is good for now. They will be checking my blood every 6 months to be sure no other plasmacytomas show up anyplace else.

Trials are tough. But walking Day By Day and Moment by Moment, can strengthen your faith and allow you to rejoice in your Amazing Father like nothing else can.

I know I have copied these words on this blog before, but they are always a blessing to me, and I pray to you as well!

Day by day and with each passing moment,
Strength I find to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.
He whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best--
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

Ev'ry day the Lord Himself is near me
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,
He whose name is Counselor and Pow'r.
The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
"As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,"
This the pledge to me He made.

Help me then in eve'ry tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith's sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E'er to take, as from a father's hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.

Another Christmas...Come and Gone

Christmas was a little different this year. It's been "different" for 13 years now since Todd left us for his eternal home in heaven, but this Christmas season had it's very good moments and it's difficult days as well. I think it's been the most different and difficult since those early years after Todd died. Our family is growing and moving, so the tight-nit closeness of just "us," left to survive with only each other, wasn't felt this year. And I suppose that is a good thing. I suppose, in reality, this is a very good thing for our family, as we are no longer feeling that "survival" mode, getting through the hard times alone, but now the family is putting those things behind and learning to cope and grow as individuals.

Our youngest is fifteen now. She barely remembers Daddy, as she was only two years old that first Christmas without him. Of course she doesn't remember any Christmas with Daddy, so this Christmas was one similar to all others for her. And that is good.

Our 24 year old daughter got married in the summer, so I know this Christmas was very special for her: the first spent with her new husband! And that is good.

Our 27 year old son bought a home in the summer and had moved there just two weeks before Christmas. So I know this Christmas was filled with new excitement for him as well! And that is good.

Our 19 and 26 year old daughters and 29 year old son are doing well in college and jobs and have been quite successful in both academics and careers. They are all maturing into adulthood and settling nicely with their grown-up lives, so this Christmas, for them, was happy and well. And that is good.

For me, this was a big time of adjustment, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I know, especially around this time of year, I need to be thinking truth and constantly repeating God's Word, His promises, and Truth over and over in my head or I would spin into a downward spiral that would leave me in a pit of depression and self pity. I know this, because I've been there many, many times through the years! But I was determined this year to not end up in my room alone, crying for hours. I wanted to be a part, so I leaned heavy on my good God to get me through.

One thing that I was so excited about was making snowmen packages for all the kids (including a spouse and girlfriend)!

 They seemed to really enjoy them, and Katrina even added yellow tissue paper to her younger sister's, Tiffany's, snowman and explained our dog must have peed on hers!

 The kids also surprised me with my own snowman they had made for me, too!

 Christmas Eve, when everyone went to bed, I placed hats on all the snowmen for an added surprise on Christmas morning! I had a lot of fun with this and everyone seemed to really enjoy this new twist to our Christmas routine.

Even our dog enjoyed the festivities! 

Admittedly, there were tears as I cried myself to sleep on several nights, longing to share my heart with Todd and have him experience all of the joy and heartaches of raising these children into adulthood, but God was there with me. He is here with me now and will be with me in the coming days! I am so grateful that I can share everything with Him. He understands. He loves me. And He cares. I am resting in these truths through this Christmas season, and I am so, so very thankful for our good, loving, and caring God! May you experience the same in your life, not only this Christmas, but every Christmas God allows us to be here with our families!