My dad's obituary and the difference between big newspapers and small

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My dad passed away Sunday evening. I got the call from my sister Debbie 20 seconds before the Kansas City Chiefs beat the Denver Broncos in Sunday's overtime game. I missed the field goal that put the win in the Chiefs' column.

Priorities.

daughter and dying father
My last photo with Dad, October 27, 2016

My dad was unexpectedly diagnosed with a relatively obscure cancer — myelodysplastic syndrome — the very same week last January that my dog Lyla was diagnosed with her brain tumor. Lyla passed a month later. It took my dad 10 months longer.

Witnessing Dad's steady decline from a hearty, humor-loving 76-year-old to a shrinking (yet still humor-loving) 77-year-old sucked for family. Even more sucky for him, as he was fully cognizant, fully aware of his wasting away, especially as the wasting accelerated to runaway train speed near the end.

I'm filled with sorrow at Dad's death. But that's unexpectedly balanced by my joy he's out of pain and distress. I have no doubt he's in heaven. I'm especially thankful he had no doubt that's where he'd end up, once again loving on his beloved...

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Running for funds... and fun

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Running for funds... and fun

When my daughters were in school, fundraising typically revolved around candy bars. Moms and dads, grandparents and other friends and family were encouraged to purchase a chocolate bar — or a boxful for the really enthusiastic supporters — to help cover the costs of school activities, sporting equipment, and so forth.

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Grandma takes a break

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I like to think I'm superwoman, capable of leaping tall buildings in a single bound... while juggling 361 duties with ease.

Sometimes life smacks me upside the head and tells me I'm a doofus for thinking such things.

Right now is one of those times, and I have no choice but to cry uncle admit I'm juggling more than I'm capable of at the moment.

One thing I'm juggling is caregiving duties for Jim, who — more than a month after his emergency foot surgery — is still on crutches, still has his PICC line for the mega antibiotics fighting the foot-damaging infection he had. Which means I'm still driving him to and from work, to and from doctor appointments, still administering his IV medication each evening, still handling absolutely everything around the house because he can't put any weight on his right foot if we want it to heal correctly. (Which we truly do want, despite the hassle.)

And now, as fate would have it, the "around the house" stuff I face includes something neither of us has ever had to do, thanks to the July 28 hailstorm from hell that hit our part of town. It spared our windows and roof, for the most part, but demolished every living thing in my yard, leaving pine needles and more everywhere.

hailstorm

Other than a huge helping hand from...

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Here and now: July 29, 2016

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This is what's up in my life... and an answer to why I've not been posting much "real writing" here on the blog.

clock and book

On my mind...

How to cheer up Jim after learning yesterday he is "not yet ready for prime time" after his foot surgery, according to his podiatrist. Meaning, he still cannot bear weight on his right foot. Meaning, he has yet another week left using crutches. Meaning, he must still sleep downstairs, must still go in the back door at work where they have a handicapped ramp for him to...

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Here and now: March 3, 2016

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It's been a while since I've shared what's happening right here, right now in my world. Here goes:

here and now

On my mind...

My dad. The week I found out Lyla had brain cancer, I also found out my dad was diagnosed with a relatively rare form of cancer that's, kind of, a precursor to leukemia, something called...

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The concussion discussion from a grandparent's perspective

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My Q&A with Being Brain Healthy author Ruth Curran

concussion movie posterWill Smith's film CONCUSSION, based on the true story of one brave doctor's unrelenting efforts to enlighten the NFL about the effects of continual trauma to the brains of football players, has opened the eyes of many to the dangers of America's favorite sport. Concussions affect far more than just football players, though, and the movie has also opened the door for many important discussions about the effects of brain injuries of all sorts, suffered by all ages, regardless of the cause.

I have long been concerned about concussions in my rambunctious, active, sports-loving grandsons, so I turned to Ruth Curran, author of Being Brain Healthy, to assuage some of the worries and concerns I have as a grandmother. See, grandparents, unless they're in a situation where they serve as primary caretaker for their grandchildren, have little say in the day-to-day care of their beloved grandkids, can't restrict certain sports or activities. That doesn't mean we have no concerns.

being brain healthy by ruth curranHere, Curran addresses my concussion...

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National Family Caregivers Month and 'Doing The Right Thing'

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November is Family Caregivers Month, which recognizes the challenging work of the more than 65 million people—29 percent of the U.S. population—who provide care for a chronically ill, disabled or aged family member or friend (according to National Alliance for Caregiving in collaboration with AARP). More importantly, the campaign stresses the need for those around the caregiver to offer support... and breaks from the job, when possible.

I am not a caregiver. I'm fortunate in that my own mother fares well on her own at this point and doesn't require care. My mother-in-law does, though. Professionals in the nursing home where she resides provide her primary care. Jim's sister Sue, who lives near the home, tirelessly offers Mom the nearly daily love, care, and attention only a family member can provide—despite Sue having a full-time job and busy life of her own, needs of her own.

family caregiver

Sue is, without doubt, the hero of...

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Musing elsewhere: Thoughts on my daughter's miscarriage (PurpleClover.com)

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Thoughts on my daughter's miscarriage

Published October 18, 2015 on PurpleClover.com

purpleclover.com

My daughter lost her baby last week. A miscarriage in the first trimester.

Coming from an abundantly fertile family, it's hard to wrap my head around that. My mom had seven children. Three of my sisters had several children, and a number of those kids had kids. I had three children myself, and my middle child had three children, too.

All of us had no problem. Yet it's a problem for my oldest child, Brianna.

"Problem" doesn't come close to accurately describing the fertility challenge for my daughter. A dead baby is far more than a problem. It's a painful, traumatic, inexplicable loss.

My 33-year-old daughter, who learned just this past year that her chances for conceiving and delivering a child are sadly...

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