There isn’t one right way to react to loss. And the thing about grief? It’ll sneak up on you precisely when you’re not looking.
This morning I attended a memorial service for a 38 year-old mother of two. She died of complications from leukemia, leaving a loving husband and two children behind. We were connected by a shared friend and a diagnosis of cancer.
When Kellie was diagnosed fifteen months ago and learned she needed to have chemotherapy I offered her my scarves. I had an extensive collection from my months spent without hair and had been serially loaning them out to friends after my hair grew back. After they’d covered my head, they’d gone to a friend’s sister in Colorado who had breast cancer. Then they went to a friend down the street who also had breast cancer. The fourth head they touched was Kellie’s.
During that time I had to deny others the use of the collection. I know too many women who’ve had cancer, I thought. There isn’t a break in between their tours of duty. The scarves don’t rest, they just keep traveling.
Perhaps some might find it icky to wear a scarf of someone else’s. That never seemed an issue for my friends. In fact, their softness from being washed so often was a bonus; heads are sensitive when hair comes out and the softer the cotton is, the better.
Kellie had those scarves for a long time. Her own fiery red hair was long gone; my scarves were a poor substitute for that ginger hair of hers. I like the thought of her having something comforting and cheery to cover her head during some of those difficult days though.
After the service today the guests stood talking over coffee and tea and far too many sandwiches and baked goods. Unprompted, our mutual friend assured me the scarves were safe and would be returned soon. I know when the stack comes back I’ll touch the scarves longingly, wishing Kellie were delivering them herself.
I’m overwhelmed today with emotions… sadness at the second Mother’s Day without my beloved mother-in-law, anger at cancer for claiming another young mother, frustration that oncology is often an art more than a science, worry that it will happen to me.
I just need to think. I just need to cry. I just need to remember. I just need to live.
Link to Twitter
I don’t have the right words to say, other than, I took a few extra minutes to read this today, as I know it was exceptionally hard for you to write. Thoughts are with you.
I love your story of the shared scarves.
The memorial service for my friend David, who died of a brain tumor, was on 27 February. It was a huge group of folks; he had many friends whose lives he had touched in one way or another. There were two hours set aside for reminiscences and music. Boxes of kleenex were in each row of chairs, and we used them. David died the previous May when I was on a trip. Sue, his wife, and my good friend, sent out an email telling us all he was getting weaker. I sent them both a loving note, which he got the day before he died. There was nine months between his death and the memorial, but it seemed he had just died. Sue misses her soul mate. His young adult children miss their dad, felt lucky to have had him as long as they did, wanted a lifetime more. I miss my good friend and loving supporter through tough times. I could use his advice right now. As I thought it would, his memorial brought up memories of my beloved brother-in-law, Lorenz, who died in 2007.
As much as I can, I understand about the loss of your friend. I send you my love and support.
Cry, remember, and know, in my opinion, you are doing a great job of living your life.
I hope to see a day when those scarves can be retired.
Thinking of you and Kellie.
Once again, you open up are vulnerable and let all of us read what makes you you, Lisa. So well written and a tribute to how Kellie touched your life.
Yes, food is conftroimg!! And I sometimes head straight to the cabinet as soon as I walk in the door, especially when it's been a rough day!!I need to get more focused..and stay on the plan, with God's help!~Beth
Thanks a lot for sharing this with all of us you really know what you are talking about! Bookmarked. Kindly additionally seek advice from my site =). We will have a link alternate contract between us
I have some growing in my garden, that is, if the chickens haven't eaten it yet. My kids love it and cilantro and other fresh herbs. Nothing like fresh herbs!
jag tycker du sköter bloggandet bra men det skulle vara kul om du hade mer filmer även när du rider hemma och inte bara på tävling =D
I can’t believe I’ve been going for years without knowing that.
I love this, Rachel! Love that you made gingerbread 🙂 and that you and Sarah had so much fun together! Wish I could share a dino and glass of milk with you!Love you both 🙂
I will fight to the last drop of blood to protect my First Amendment Rights. If my government cannot extend the definition of time of war to include wars we’re not in, we are living in nothing short of a tyranny.
Lisa, I’m sorry for your loss of Kellie. The story about the scarves is quite touching. As one who lost her hair, I understand about the softness thing. Well worn scarves are something special, you can almost feel the love as well as the softness coming through the worn fibers.
Give yourself permission to feel your emotions, whatever they might be. I’m trying to do the same as I face another Mother’s Day without my mom.
In my day job, I manage medical bills for people with chronic illnesses. Many have cancer, many more are young and have young families. My heart aches, even though I see such a small part of their journey. Ive seen many, many miracles. I have also seen a lot of pain.
I am grateful my mother in law beat breast cancer. I’m equally heartbroken that colon cancer took my dad before he could walk Mr me down the aisle & meet his grandson. My father in law also died from colon cancer, he saw us get married but he wasn’t there to.meet my little guy.
This Sat I will run to raise $ for breast cancer. I run because I can. I run because not everyone has a traveling scarf to wear. I run to restore dignity to patients. I run because I’m grateful I dodged the bullet twice with cancer scares. I run for those who can’t.
Allo Gabriel, j’ai le même problème que toi avec Babytel… possible de me donner des indications avec Voip.ms??Je suis en informatique mais le volet téléphone m’est méconnu. De plus le site semble très complexe.Merci!
Tu as raison quand tu dis qu’il faut pas toujours se prendre la tete. Moi aussi je suis plutot adepte des ptits looks pas trop sophistiqués. En tout cas, ça te va bien
déc06Marie-Claude Quelle joie d’apprendre la venue d’Even! Je vous embrasse tous les trois et vous souhaite beaucoup de bonheur! J’ai hate de te voir petit bout.
Dodam jeszcze że ów tajemniczy starożytny gnostycyzm odcisnÄ…Å‚ piÄ™tno na caÅ‚ym starożytnym Å›wiecie i zostawiÅ‚ swój Å›lad we wszystkich znanych wtedy religiach.W religii greków i rzymian istniaÅ‚ taki ruch religijny jak Hermes Trismegistos, w religii Å»ydów sabbataizm oraz ebjonim.ChrzeÅ›cijaÅ„scy gnostycy uważali Jezusa za tak zwanego “oÅ›wieconego”.
it to you, your team will even not have noticed it. Best regards, We had always loved Google because you have created excellent solutions to make people more independent from the system.This is your strengh, do not loose it.
And of course those who hate unions – they’re rampant in Repub ranks – could easily see their demise if liveable wages were paid, working conditions were not life-threatening and grievances were heard without threats of recrimination. So obviously it must not be that unions are hated, it’s their threat to dimished profits in the pockets of the overlords.
Le mie preferite sono quella dove sei distesa sul divano con i cuscini fiorati (che è la mia preferita in assoluto) e quella dove salti sulla schiena di Richie al mare ?
I’m so sorry your scarves are returning to you because Kellie is gone. Oh, alas, it is so difficult to lose friends and loved ones. xo
What an amazing post. So sorry for your loss.
When a child I knew passed away from a soft-tissue cancer, her parents donated her hats to the children’s hospital where she was treated. It’s sad that they are still in use, but nice to know those animal-design hats might be making another child smile.
Oh Lisa, I’m so very sorry for the loss of your friend. Knowing you as long as I have, I see how emotionally involved you get. Your generosity and sensitivity to others, especially women with cancer. Your thoughtfullness to share your beauiful scarves with other women, touches me deeply. Only one who has gone through a hair loss would understand how special of a gift that truly is. The little white, terry cap you sent me was the one I wore the most. I cherished that gift like no other because it was perfect in its comfort, warmth, and durability.
I hope you are able to share how you feel when you get your scarves back. I also hope you let us comfort the intense feelings that are going to happen when you do, the very least we can do for someone as loving and caring as yourself. I won’t be able to share my little, white cap, because it is something I could never part with. I attach that gift from you to courage and the will to continue. I will always be greatful for that little striped package, if not for that, I would have had nothing to cover my head when the time had come. Thank you for that, and thank you for sharing your traveling scarves story.
What a moving and eloquent post – I can’t imagine how difficult it is to be in this sisterhood and to lose a member to this horrible disease. Prayers for you and your friend who is gone. So sorry for your loss.
This is the perfect blog for anyone who hopes to understand
this topic. You understand a whole lot its almost hard to
argue with you (not that I really will need to…HaHa). You certainly put a fresh spin on a topic
that’s been written about for a long time. Excellent stuff, just wonderful!