Thursday, July 14, 2011
From Saturday
I’m not sure if many people know this, but after Mom was diagnosed in December, she suffered a complication. The day after Christmas, she was admitted to the hospital in St. Louis, and was very limited in what she could communicate for several days. Sometime early in that stage, I was sitting with her in her room in the ICU, my back to the television, and with her eyes barely open she said something I couldn’t understand. Asked her to repeat it, and I made out the words “porch light.” So I said, don’t worry, the porch light is off … she raised her right hand just barely in what appeared to be a gesture toward the door, said again, “porch light.” I turned around, just as Pat and Vanna started clapping – Mom had solved the puzzle.
Most of the month of December exists only as a blur in my mind, but I will never forget that moment … because in that moment, I knew she was going to come back. And I had infinite hope in that moment that we would get our miracle. I remember very clearly -- that was the first night in two weeks I went to sleep without one tear.
That hope did not disappoint. The weeks that followed, she continued to improve. She was able to walk more steps, talk on the phone – even cook a meatloaf and some toffee. But every morning, we would wheel over to her radiation appointments, and every morning, we would see people struggling, hear people talking about the cures for which they were hoping. And a growing unease began to settle inside me – how many prayers were going up for how many people, drowning out and encroaching on our miracle?
So I started to do the math that I’m sure anyone who has been through this kind of experience starts to do – adding up the many reasons why she deserved that miracle more.
I think many of my teachers in high school thought I was terribly unhealthy in grades 9-12. I missed a number of days of school… perhaps exactly 10 each semester … because that’s how many sick days we were allowed, and mom looked at sick days like vacation days – she’d wake me up some random morning and ask how many I had left … provided the answer was at least one, she’d say “good – we’re going shopping.”
A well-worn path developed between our house and the Plaza – the mileage we racked up only outdone by the triptic from here to St. Louis, a drive she’d make to and from, twice a week for eight years solid. She’d hit the road to collect Luke, Mark and Adam from Chaminade every Friday and return them every Sunday… hours in the car she guarded like a bear, and on which she would rarely allow anyone to infringe. Because in the car, she said, she would get her best information. She’d start driving, they’d start talking – so while they were three hours away at school, Mom was still able to guarantee that she was as up on her kids as any other mother.
After she got sick, her taste in food changed enormously. This woman who prided herself on preparing exceptional meals turned to a diet dominated by twizzlers and frosted mini wheats --the snacks she packed on those road trips every week to St. Louis.
More often than not, parents talk about the teenage years in terms of survival, but I seem to remember our parents actually enjoying them … for the most part. I asked Mom about that just a couple of weeks ago, and her response, “I loved it when you were teenagers. Treat your kids the way you expect them to behave, and you’ll be fine.” I resisted the urge to ask if that means they treated Mark like a felon.
In all honesty, I would say our parents treated us like gold, but that’s not even an adequate comparison. If we really do judge ourselves by how our parents react when we walk into the room, then you should be looking at the four most arrogant human beings on the planet.
After Mom got sick, and Adam started the blog, we tried to tell Dad how to login, and he told us he was living it, he didn’t need to read about it. Well, Dad, you’re stuck, and you don’t have to read anything … I’ll read it to you.
From December 28:
When we were sitting with Mom in her room in the Neuro ICU at Barnes today, I looked at Dad and I wondered if he thinks back to meeting her in a St. Louis hospital all those years ago. Could they have ever even considered that they’d be back in this capacity? I don’t think anyone ever does. They’re adjusting. We’re all adjusting. But they have an added responsibility as parents – one from which they’ve never shied. They continue to teach by example. Ask any one of us. We understand vows now. Over the last two weeks our parents have truly taught us what marriage means.
At some point over the last seven months, Dad has told each of us how much he has appreciated the “sacrifices” we have made through this. When I saw you take Mom’s wedding rings off her hand the other day, all I could think is how lucky we were. I can’t figure out what sacrifice any one of us has made. Rather, we were handed a unique opportunity to give you even just a glimpse into the gratitude each of us feels for having been raised your children. You have set a standard toward which we will each strive … one against which we will judge ourselves in our work, in our homes, and especially with our own children.
I wish with everything in me that Mom were here and healthy today. But the fact that she isn’t doesn’t mean our prayers weren’t answered. We got our miracle – we just lived within it for the last three decades. In counting up the reasons why Mom deserved a cure, I realized just days before she died that I was counting up individual miracles … When a good friend was dying of cancer a couple of years ago, she said to me, you have to remember, everyone here is losing one person – the person dying is losing everyone. She was right about pretty much everything … she’d be the first to tell you… but I really think she was wrong on that count. Because when I think of her now, I see her in a place where the Cardinals and Notre Dame football are enjoying perpetual winning seasons, she’s snagging bread out of the oven and getting toffee off the stove while planning her next trip– and where she’s managed to solve the one puzzle she was never quite able to figure out here on Earth … the ultimate multi-tasker has found a way to be five places at once … and still light up every corner of Heaven with a dazzling smile.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
She was born to the late Philip and Roberta (Buffy) Reuter on May 2, 1954, in Williston, North Dakota. She graduated from Medicine Lake High School in 1972, and received her Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing in 1976 from the College of St. Catherine in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She married David Wuellner on July 2, 1977, in Medicine Lake, Montana, and they lived in St. Louis and Nashville before making Sedalia home in 1983.
Shelley worked as a registered nurse and as a part-time nursing instructor at State Fair Community College before becoming a full-time homemaker, a role she approached with unmatched joy, energy and dedication.
She was an active member of Sacred Heart Church and accepted leadership roles with Sacred Heart School Foundation, Sacred Heart Parish Council, P.E.O., Pettis County Health Center Board, Bothwell Regional Health Center Foundation Board, and Sorosis.
She is survived by her husband, Dr. David Wuellner, Sedalia, and four children: Luke Wuellner, San Diego; Mark (Maggie) Wuellner, Cincinnati; Abigail Wuellner, St. Louis; and Adam Wuellner, Chicago. She is preceded in death by her parents and one brother.
Mass of Christian Burial will be 10 a.m. Saturday, July 9, 2011 at Sacred Heart Catholic Church, with the Rev. Father Mike Volkmer officiating.
In lieu of flowers, the family suggests donations to Sacred Heart School Foundation.
View Mom's obituary in the Sedalia Democrat. We also submitted a copy to the Plentywood Herald.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Wednesday Morning
I post the following with a combined sense of sadness and relief.
Mom slipped into a coma over the weekend, and died peacefully at 2:05 this morning. We have all been home since late last week, and at least one of us has been with her around the clock. Luke and Mark were by her side when she passed.
Her funeral mass will take place at Sacred Heart Church in Sedalia on Saturday, July 9 at 10:00 a.m. Her obituary will run in tomorrow's paper, and we'll post it here, as well. In lieu of flowers, we would suggest contributions to Sacred Heart School Foundation, an organization that honors Mom's dedication to Catholic education and supports a school she loved -- the one that educated all four of her children.
Thank you all for your continued kindness, prayers, love and support. Few things I will claim to know with absolute certainty, but I know we were blessed enough to have an incredible mom whose spirit we will feel but whose physical presence we will miss every day for the rest of our lives. I also know that in the life we experience after this one -- whatever that may be -- there is no cancer. For those things, and many, many more, we are indescribably grateful.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Update
Many of you read Adam’s last blog post describing Mom’s progress and improvement. The new treatment was effective for some time, and we’re very grateful for each quality day it gave us. However, as is the case with this type of cancer, the tumor has found a way to work around the medicine. Her condition has rapidly deteriorated over the last three weeks, and an MRI Monday morning confirmed what we had all suspected, and has forced us to recognize that treatment is no longer effective.
We have no idea what kind of time we have left. Hospice came to the house today, which helps guarantee her comfort, and allows us to stop being caregivers and just be her family.
As I mentioned, we’ve all heard a lot about odds over the last six months. I think of how rare this disease really is – I looked it up not long ago. The chance of a woman being diagnosed with a brain tumor (regardless of type) is .005%. Looking at that number, I can’t help but wonder why she had to fall into such an incredible minority?
But if we’re going to talk about odds, I have to acknowledge one that is simply unquantifiable. The odds that Luke, Mark, Adam and I would end up her children are four in … what? Those odds don’t exist. We’ve spent the last 26, 28, 30 and 32 years wandering around with winning lottery tickets in our back pockets. So please know that as horrible as this situation is, we still think of ourselves as incredibly lucky.
I write this note for a few reasons – but mostly because I know word will start to spread, and, as with her diagnosis, I want as much information to come from us as possible. At the same time, I’ve had this conversation with a few of my closest friends over the last couple of days, and I really don’t know how many times I can repeat it. I’m prepared for what’s coming, but I will never be ready.
All of that said, I still begin and end every day praying for a miracle. Whether your prayers are for that – or merely peace for her and for our family, I ask you to keep offering them up. Also, for those who will see or speak to her in the coming days, I make this request: please leave your tears at the door. I know that’s a tall order. We can’t escape the fact that this is devastatingly sad for her friends as well as for us – but she worked so hard to make our house a happy place. I feel she’s owed as many smiles as is humanly possible in the days ahead.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Moving and shaking
This past weekend, we had a full house, with Maggie, Mark, Abigail, and Dad. Good food from everyone as we all pitched in, but especially from Abigail. And sister, speaking of, is getting very excited as she hopefully gets to move into her new house in a week or so. Though we are not looking forward to the painting and heavy furniture lifting. "Mom, exactly how strong you feeling these days? Well, grab that side of the armoir then!"
Otherwise, all is well. This week is another Avastin week, and a super combo week as it also will include the once a month Temodar. But we are thankful for both as they and the countless prayers are working beautifully. Thank you all. Love you, Mom. And just because the walker is there, doesn't mean you get to grab a midnight snack without waking me first! Goodnight.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Happy Mother's Day, and other exciting news!
Then, exponentially more exciting, Mom recently had her MRI pictures taken to track progress. We all hold our breath every time these check-ups occur, praying for the best results. Prayers were heard, and happy to report that it shrank by about ¼ inch! As the adage goes, less is more, and couldn’t truer in this regard. Really, these pictures just proved what we already knew – Mom has been getting better by the day as evidenced by her health (always smiling), appetite (Burger King is the new method of choice), and increased mobility during the past month (we don’t want her to get cocky, but she’s been known to get up and walk around via the walker, alone, with no help or person in sight – Mom, we love you and are proud of you, BUT BE CAREFUL!!!).
That’s all for now. We’re all excited for Abigail’s house, the encouraging MRI results, and even the sunlight and breaks from rain we are now seeing. Patio furniture and outdoor carpet (handpicked by Mom at a recent Lowe’s excursion) are all out on the deck – bring on summer!
We love you, Mom.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Happy Birthday, Mom!
But for tonight, just wanted to say...HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY! The whole family can't wait to be in St. Louis this weekend, where we will continue the celebration and welcome in a Mother's Day celebration to top it off. We love you so much!
Goodnight, everyone.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
She came, she saw, she conquered
And for her encore, she struts around the room, huge grin across her face. Then Dad and I realize, just as I imagine parents seeing their baby crawl for the first time, Oh no, now she's mobile...
But we're of course thrilled. Love you, Mom.
Have a good day, everyone.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Good News Weekend
She has mastered the Mom role for over 30 years, I guess it is time for a new challenge. Can't wait for it. And neither can she.
Love you Mom! Congrats again bro and sis!
Goodnight.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Smile and Wave
The last 4 weeks have been great on all counts. As of Wednesday, Mom has now undergone 3 full treatments of Avastin. She's getting stronger by the day, mentally and physically, and we couldn't be happier. Moreover, I'm also very proud to say that this blog is being written from the comfort of Mom's giant couch. The reason - Mom just up and said, I want to sleep upstairs. So up we went. No time to even think about it. She stood up, held my hands to the stairs. And then literally bounded up them without letting herself rest by putting two feet on the same step. "One step at a time, Mom, we'll get there". "Yes, honey, but one step at a time will just take longer". Wise. Very wise.
So upstairs she sleeps. For those that don't know, if Mom needs help, she rings her bell. She joked that I should have given it to her so she could ring it in Dad's ears. Yeah, he would have loved that, I told her. She of course was joking. But on a serious note, she went to sleep with an even bigger grin than I've seen in weeks, and now Dad won't need to go far to give her a hug in the morning when he wakes up. She'll be right there next to him, where she belongs.
Love you, Mom. Good work tonight.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Rest and relaxation
Dad has decided to join the couch party in the family room, as he is taking some well-deserved R&R for at least the next week. Mom and I are loving having him at home more often.
And then there's Mom, or Smiley, as both Dad and I have referred to her on countless occasions lately. She is walking better, sitting up in the arm chair, currently reading Gone with the Wind during the day, and judging American Idol at night (I speak for the family when I say, how could America not vote Pia into the next round!?)
The siblings have rotated weekends, where this weekend I'll be out in Chicago to see Carrie while Abigail comes home to be with the folks.
Between the second round of Avastin and the nonstop prayer from family and friends, we are doing really well. Thank you.
As I write, Mom has been napping for the last couple hours. Strong odds that there will be a late night request from the kitchen, we'll see if it's eggs or beef roast. I should probably get some sleep as well. Goodnight everyone. Love you Mom!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Round 2
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Family Car Ride
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Looking Good
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Time to make the donuts!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Home with Mom
Nine Days
The following message was written by one of our wonderful friends in Sedalia. It boggles my mind to think of just how many people are praying for Mom ... though it can never be too many! We'll post an actual update in the next few days (all is well!) -- but in the meantime, please join in the Novena, and share with anyone ... and everyone.
Dear Friends,
This Sunday, at Sacred Heart Church, a nun from the "Little Sister of the Poor" Order spoke to our parish. Their organization was begun by Sister Jeanne Jugan in the 1800's and the order is devoted to serving the elderly. Jeanne Jugan was recently canized a saint in 2009. To be named a saint in the Catholic Church, miracles must be tied between the person who is up for sainthood and situations on earth. Sister Jugan's last miracle proven was the healing of a medical doctor in Omaha, Nebraska. He had an inoperable tumor and had traveled to leading cancer centers in the US but the message was clear nothing could be done for him. He had resigned himself to death but his wife refused to give up. She contacted the "Little Sister" Order in Omaha and they gave her a novena (prayer) to recite daily. They joined her in this prayer. The doctor was miraculously cured and Jeanne Jugan was on the road to sainthood. This order of nuns has promised to begin this novena for Shelley and I would like to ask you to do the same. With all of us saying the same prayer daily, we hope another miracle will occur.
NOVENA PRAYER: Jesus, You rejoiced and praised Your Father for having revealed to little ones the mysteries of the Kingdom of Heaven. We thank You for the graces granted to Your humble servant, Jeanne Jugan, to whom we confide our petitions and needs. Father of the Poor, You have never refused the prayer of the lowly. We ask You, therefore, to hear the petitions that she presents to You on our behalf. Jesus, through Mary, your Mother and ours, we ask this of You, who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit now and forever. Amen.
For those of you who aren't Catholics, in our faith, we not only pray to God but also to those special people he chose to be examples on earth. Just like we ask friends to pray for each other; Catholics ask Saints to share in our prayer requests to God. Shelley is praying this novena with us and I hope you will join in too. Many thanks, Kathy Beykirch
Sunday, March 20, 2011
March Madness
Yet, this weekend was still as fun as ever. On Friday night, Abigail and Aunt Kate drove into town, while Carrie and I took a train, bus, and train. Needless to say, lots of good food and lots of "good" basketball was had. Mom is looking great, always greeting us with a smile in the morning and some good commentary during the day. Most notably, in response to a conversation about Ben Hansbrough (ND) and Kemba Walker (UConn) between Dad and me - Mom steps in, "Oh, Kemba, yeah, if I had a dog in this fight, he would be it". Right again, Mom. Ben is on a bus back to South Bend, but Kemba will still be fighting for you next weekend.
But before that, we have a big week ahead of us. First, Luke flies in on Tuesday to hang with Mom for over a week. And then, Wednesday marks the most important day of this month to date. Mom will be heading to Sedalia Bothwell to receive a second type of chemo medicine that she can receive concurrently with the pill she is already taking. "If 1 is good, 2 is better." So please keep her in your prayers extra hard as we look forward to the mid-week and beyond.
And with that, it's time to head to bed as I'm sure Mom is already off and dreaming. Love you so much. Excited to see you in about a week. Goodnight.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Waiting out the storm
Mom looks great, all smiles as we walked in the door, before we went to bed, and as soon as we all woke up. She is in great spirits. We spent most of the day hanging out in the family room, occasionally (often) hitting the kitchen and eating the many pounds of food provided by our many thoughtful and loving friends. Thanks again. And of course, when we're not eating food, we're watching food. Food Network during the day, and then when Mom asked for a list of relatively new movies from which to choose for our evening movie night, she obviously perked up at Eat, Pray, Love. She also didn't mind the idea of a "Chocolate Pizza" that we bought ingredients for and baked up. Pizza Dough, Chocolate, Peanut Butter, Nutella, Marshmallows, and more Chocolate. So, we ate and watched.
Sunday. Abigail and Dad roasted some pork shoulder in the oven (actually, it was pork butt, and yes, we learned that we are all as mature as we thought we were - cue the multiple one-liners and half of the Sir Mix-a-Lot lyrics). After all that fun and food, Abigail and I had to say our goodbyes, and now we're back in St. Louis and Chicago.
Clearly, the point of the weekend re-telling and my train of thought were lost on the last paragraph. But to bring it back, like Mom taught us, we are all waiting out the storm. And while we wait, we are still having fun and laughing as a family. What's better than that. Miss you, Mom. Can't wait til we get to see you again.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
How was your weekend?
“Not long enough.”
I have either said or heard this Monday morning dialogue hundreds of times in my life, but it has never rang truer than in these past few months. Train rides, plane flights, and car trips may be nuisances, but it’s always worth the commute to get home and see Mom. Abigail and I arrived back home late Friday night, to Dad offering us almost a dozen different food items immediately after we hugged hello. Mom was napping on the couch, with the faint comfortable hum of “Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives” in the background. She woke up for a quick catch-up about our work weeks, and then it’s upstairs to bed.
Saturday, I think Mom and Dad were the first to rise by more than 5 hours (needless to say, both napped later in the day). Mom and I got a chance to talk wedding for a bit, knocking out a couple of my groom tasks while I am home. And while we watched a couple food network shows, Abigail was putting on a culinary show of her own as was evidenced by the pasta with Bolognese sauce dinner. During our family movie night of “Secretariat”, she put on an encore performance with some delicious chocolate chip cookies and chocolate dipped strawberries. Mom, Dad, and I were full and happy.
Sundays are travel days and are always over before I want them to be. But we made the most of it, Mass in the morning, another hour of wedding talk around lunch, quick pseudo-fashion show as Abigail returned from the store with some “gala-type” outfits for Mom who is excitedly preparing for a charity “Dancing with the Stars” event in Sedalia in a few weeks, and some quality mother-son bonding time over NCAA basketball and searching online for some good magazines to read. Shocker, guess who is the proud new owner of a subscription to the “Food Network” magazine?
And then we arrive back in our cars, back in airport terminals, and back sitting on trains to our homes away from Home. I have to admit, I do look forward to going to work and seeing friends on Mondays. But tomorrow morning, when they ask, “How was your weekend?”, I’ll politely, but sincerely respond, “Not long enough.”
Love and miss you already, Mom. See you in a couple weeks.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Rocky Road
I was able to go home last week for mom’s last day of radiation. It was great having the family together for a few hours that morning before Mom, Dad and I returned to Sedalia for the week. It was quite emotional watching mom come out of her last treatment to ring the bell signifying the end of her cycle of radiation. Everything that went into completing the radiation is what was so emotional yet so satisfying. The determination of our mom, the time it took, the changing of her physical appearance, the worrying from the kids, it all adds up. We are all so proud of her and can’t be more excited to have her in the comfort of our home for a while.
Once we got out of the hospital and back to Sedalia is was straight to the couch in the new makeshift bedroom/family room. Mom’s iPad is always on, the phone is always buzzing, and the tv is on either The Food Network (she’s still getting cooking ideas) or Jeopardy. She takes her baby steps around the first floor of the house to get around, sneaking into the kitchen to make a grilled cheese for lunch or to satisfy her large sugar tooth. Rocky Road ice cream, peanut m&m’s, and oreo cookies are the drug of choice.*
*If anyone from Apple or Breyer’s is reading this, send iPads and ice cream.
I find it a little more than ironic that mom’s ice cream of choice is Rocky Road. We all know this process is not going to be easy. There are ups and downs just like anything in life. Right now though, we seem to be having more ups. Just for her to be walking on her own is a huge victory. I can’t help but think that this is leading up to the mother/son dance at Adam’s wedding come Halloween. I can’t wait!
Also, a lot of people have been asking how our dad is doing. It appears to me that he has turned into some sort of a Michael Keaton hybrid of Batman and Mr. Mom. He’s busy working, fighting crime, doing the occasional load of laundry, paying bills, making sure mom is comfortable, and getting sleep when he can. I'm always amazed at how little sleep he seems to get by on. Things are going to be much more settled now that mom is home. Exhale.
See you in 5 weeks mommy.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Back home
Currently, Luke is manning the home front for the entire week, as the other siblings are back in their respective cities. As always, looking forward to getting back home and hanging out with Mom. Thanks again for everyone's love and support. Love you, Mom! Goodnight.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Mom rings the bell!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Time for the Main Event
Super Monday
Tomorrow is one of the biggest eating, drinking, tv ad watching, football cheering days of the year, but it ranks as the second most important day out of the next two. Pretty certain no one in my family cares who wins or loses in the game, just pumped to have Luke back with us in St. Louis tomorrow and to prepare for Super Monday - Mom's 30th and last radiation treatment which she will proudly signal by ringing that bell to the applause and hugs of her family and friends. Already getting goosebumps. Thank you to everyone who has shared these past 6 weeks with us, through prayers, flowers, well wishes, hugs, food, drinks, and just being there for us in any and every way possible. We are very blessed to have such amazing friends and family in our lives. Enjoy the game tomorrow and get ready to cheer for the one who we know will always win - Mom.
We love you, Mom! Goodnight.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Batten down the hatches
Monday, January 31, 2011
Snowpocalypse!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The General
Mom sat at her perch on a dining room chair, again Mom has been able to sit and walk anywhere on her own including down the stairs as Dad found out after she snuck out of bed at 5 am. General Shelley methodically directed her troops (Dad and me) around, across, and into each other as we sliced, diced, poured, and blended. A symphony of sounds and smells, as one friend told me tonight "she's like ratatouille!" 1 hr later and 3 more hours in the crockpot, short ribs dinner was prepared. The General approved. Success!
We all made our way to St. Louis, I caught a quick flight to Chicago while Mom and Dad went back to their apartment. Already looking forward to Thursday night and into the weekend as the whole family comes together. Love you Mom. Goodnight.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Mom! Meatloaf!
So at what point do we call Mom on just playing hooky? Dad and I left the house to run a couple errands during late-morning. We come back to the smell of diced onions, some dirty dishes, and questions for Mom. We find her on the couch of course. “Mom, what have you been up to?” She looks at me with a big grin on her face, ”I made Meatloaf!” Priceless. First stairs, now cooking on her own. Mom is better than ever, and our delicious homemade dinner proved it.
Big week ahead of us. It will be the last one where Mom will spend her week going back and forth from the hospital to her nearby apartment. Then by this time next week, Mark, Maggie, Carrie, me, Luke, Abigail, and Dad will all be back home with Mom. Can’t wait. Love you, Mom. Goodnight.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Little Moments
Well, she’s done it folks! Shelley “Mom” Wuellner has successfully climbed the entire flight of stairs and is currently sleeping in her own bed for the first time in a month! Seriously though, it’s a big deal. Every step, only one foot needed per step, with no help from Dad (though always playing the role of safety net right behind her). Good work, Mom.
Today marked radiation treatment number 24. 1 more week and 1 more day of treks to the radiation machine. After the hospital trip today, I got to witness some of Mom’s happiest moments, sights, and feelings during her week as she made specific note of them throughout the day. Number 1 – the moment we got back to the apartment after her last treatment of the week – fresh coffee and chocolate croissants waiting for her courtesy of Chef Abigail. Number 2 – the moment she lands in the car, knowing her next stop is home sweet home. Number 3 – the “Sedalia” exit sign off of highway 70 that signals we are mere miles and minutes away. Number 4 – walking into the house and seeing her living room, her couch, her home. Number 5 – seeing Dad at the end of his work day (he splits his week between St. Louis and Sedalia in order to continue being the great doctor, Dad, and husband that he is).
Some of these little moments show what’s important in Mom’s life – her family, her home, and of course, coffee (maybe not in that order). All kidding aside, big day for Mom and a fun day for all of us. Glad to be back home; Mom will be the first to tell you. We love you, Mom. Goodnight.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Happy to be home in St. Louis with Mom
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Miss you, Mom
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Superwoman
Monday, January 17, 2011
Halfway There
Saturday, January 15, 2011
On the upswing
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Saturday at home
The Simple Comforts in Life
For the past few weeks, I’ve noticed that the family has decided to do what they like. And the end result has been, we really enjoy the simple comforts in life.
We like to be connected to family and friends. Whether in person, on the phone, in an email, via a text, or written in a blog, we all have been in constant communication with family and friends – those we truly love and care about. We’ve seen more episodes of silly television shows like Man vs. Food, Modern Family, Gold Rush Alaska, and House Hunters than anyone can imagine, but we’ve done so together as a family and enjoyed it more than anything. We also stare at our phones like those idiots in the TV commercials, but only because we want to respond to every text or email and be in constant communication with Mom and everyone else. Bottom line, we’ve made a point to be around those that we love and ensure that they know it.
We eat what we like, our comfort food. It has become very clear what Mom likes. Cheerios, Juice, Coffee, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and Rocky Road Ice Cream –throw in a glass of wine every now and then, and what more could anyone want in life!? The boys on the other hand have made it comically apparent that we are comforted by our favorite high school fast food – none other than Lions’ Choice Famous Roast Beef Sandwiches (with honey mustard). Typical trip to St. Louis includes landing at Lambert Airport and then heading straight to Lions’ Choice without even asking if we are hungry, a new ritual that Maggie and her sister have learned all too well and laugh at every time.
We stay where we like. In the past, it was not uncommon for Dad to wake up to every light on in the house and one of the boys asleep on the couch. Typical Dad greeting to us, “Go up to bed, and I better not find you down here again tomorrow morning. Is that clear?” Crystal. Well, Mom now enjoys the comfort of background noise and a giant comfy couch. So the TV is almost always on, and Mom can be found every morning asleep on the couch. Dad greets her with three kisses and smiles every time he now sees this sight. Like I said, we do what we like and that’s what comforts him – seeing Mom happy.
Love you, Mom. Goodnight.