Sixty Candles

Dear Mom,

Your birthday is coming to an end, but I figure I still have time to get your annual birthday letter on paper before it’s officially over. Happy 60^th! I just turned on our favorite episode of Gilmore Girls, so we can celebrate like old times.

I can’t believe this marks the third May 2 we’ll cross off the calendar without you here to make your own cake. I always get anxious as May approaches—your birthday, and the multitude of persistent retailers e-mailing me with reminders that Mother’s Day is coming up. I so wish I could respond to each of them, “Trust me. I know.”

I would say I miss you more this time of year, but that’s not the case. I think it’s just a little more acceptable for me to talk about how much I miss you. Nearly three years later, I still miss you every day. I have wanted to call you, or turn and see you standing behind me, in every moment of happiness and in every moment of disappointment these last three years have shelled out. But I miss you most in the minutes each day I spend in the car and in the minutes walking between meetings – those minutes I once filled talking to you. I miss you in every insignificant moment only a mom would think significant. I miss your advice. I miss your opinion. I miss your laugh.

In the midst of the missing though, I see you everywhere.

Last weekend, I was driving to Notre Dame, and Dad – right on cue and in true you fashion – called the second I pulled onto campus. I laughed when I answered the phone then, just like I used to laugh when you did the same thing. You don’t have to worry anymore, he’s taken over that responsibility. Whether your kids are small or grown, I can’t imagine how stressful it must be to be their only parent, the only person who can love your kids and care about them and worry about them the way a parent would. I’d tell you he’s an amazing dad, but you already know. And you would be proud.

And did you see? Luke cut his hair! He looks like your son again (not a WWF wrestler)! And that mane went right into an envelope addressed to Locks of Love—a move you no doubt inspired. He has an unbelievably big heart. You would be proud.

I see you every time Mark even talks about his kids (don’t worry – I’ll get to them in a minute). I would love to see you experience him as a dad. It has amazed us all. And Maggie is such an incredible mom. The love and patience they demonstrate and the joy they so obviously experience in parenting – you would be so proud.

And Adam, with his endless enthusiasm and energy, he’s a constant reminder of you. You would envy the life he and Carrie are living. They travel like you, albeit to even more exotic locales. They’ve been married two-and-a-half years now. You were right. He, like Mark, found a good one. I think you would have enjoyed having three daughters. Oh – and Adam’s also taken over the job of Chief Information Officer (head gossip) for the family – you would definitely be proud.

I’m guessing by now you would appreciate it if I got around to your grandkids. Oh, Mom. They’re beautiful. They’re smart and they’re funny and they’ve injected more life and more joy into this family than I could have ever imagined. David just learned to clap, and Millie is a riot. She loves to sing “Happy Birthday.”  Tonight, she sang “Happy Birthday to Grandma and Millie" (I think she adds herself every time). I will never forget the way you reacted when you found out you would be a grandma. I think of how you would look at the two of them now, and I smile every time. You would have been such a good grandma. Don’t worry. They know who you are. And you would be so proud.

I made a trip to the Grotto Sunday night to light a candle for you. But then, I just kept lighting more – 61 in all – one for each year that has passed since you were born, and one for the year ahead. With each one, I made the same wish. My birthday wish for you is that wherever you are, you see this – you see everything you did on this earth, every life you made possible, every life you made better, and every life you still influence today – and I really, really hope you’re proud.

We are celebrating your birthday this weekend in a way you would have loved, along with your grandson’s first birthday. He’ll blow out one candle tomorrow. And while I would promise to tell you all about it, I know I won’t have to.

I’ll see you there.

Happy 60^th birthday, Mom.

Love,
Ab

From Saturday

Several people have requested copies of the the remarks Dad and I gave at Mom's funeral mass. Dad says his words were "written in his head." My mind is far less reliable, so the following is what I had in front of me. I post with one disclaimer: this is not written like anything I would submit to an English teacher. I wrote it Thursday night, printed it, didn't look at it again until Saturday morning, and haven't looked at it since. (Yes, I am effectively washing my hands of all grammatical errors, misspelled words and misused punctuation marks...)

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.

Rochelle (Shelley) Reuter Wuellner, 57, died Wednesday, July 6.

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 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.

Update

When Mom was diagnosed just over six months ago, I knew the odds that I would at some point have to write this update. Unfortunately, “at some point” has come faster than any of us thought it would.

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.

Moving and shaking

Quick update. So I've been out of town for work for the past two weeks - maybe I should leave more often. Upon return, Mom is better than ever, speed walking to the car today as we took a drive around town to see the damage from the tornado. (In your prayers for Mom, please join us in our prayers as well for those families in Sedalia, and especially Joplin, who were devastated by the recent tornadoes).

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.

Happy Mother's Day, and other exciting news!

Happy Belated Mother’s Day and hope everyone is doing well. The last few weeks have involved a lot of travel for us. Luke flew in from San Diego. Carrie and I drove to South Bend for the Pre-Cana marriage retreat, and then immediately back down to St. Louis. And it’s probably easier to name the cities Mark hasn’t been in during the past month. On Sunday morning, we all woke up to go check out the newest addition to the Wuellner family (not the baby quite yet, long way to go until November), but rather, Abigail’s brand new house! She is very excited, and Mom has already picked out her bedroom on the first floor. Two more weeks and we can start painting and moving Abigail in. Rest of the day included a non-traditional “brunch” of Lion’s Choice roast beef sandwiches (well, non-traditional for other families, might be a new one for ours), and some R&R around the hotel for Mother’s Day. Everyone was just happy we could celebrate it together with our favorite person in the world.

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.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

I promise to write more in upcoming posts. Lots to discuss as it's been a big week both at home and in the world: engagement shower, royal wedding (which also brought Abigail home for a girls only slumber party), some redecorating of the brothers' room upstairs, pope beatification, and Osama news.

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.

She came, she saw, she conquered

Quick update. For this post, please imagine the opening music from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Mom eyes the walker at the foot of the couch. She moves her feet down to the floor, props herself sitting up, places both hands on the rails, struggles at first, and then hoists herself up on her own 2 feet (with absolutely no help from Dad or me). Ta Daaaaaaaa!

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.

Good News Weekend

This past weekend, Carrie came in to Sedalia for our Engagement Party weekend. Little did we know, that was the tip of the celebratory iceberg. Mark and Maggie drove in from Cincinnati, picked her up at the airport, and then made their way home on Friday night. Abigail followed suit shortly thereafter. Upon arrival, Mark and Maggie got into the Easter spirit and gave us all very nicely decorated Easter baskets. A unique one to each of us. And not unique in just color or types of goodies, but rather, the decoration on the outside of the baskets themselves. One for "Aunt Abby", "Aunt Carrie", "Uncle Adam", "Uncle Luke", and best of all, one big one for "Grandma and Grandpa". Hugs, high fives, smiles, and tears - Mark and Maggie are very proud to say that they will be welcoming a new member to the family come late Fall / early Winter. Congratulations to them and the rest of the family. We all could use some good news this year, and this is just the best kind we could have received. Mom summed up the general feeling that was permeating throughout the house all weekend. As she woke up with Abigail late in the night as is typical, she had a giant grin across her face. "We're going to have a baby soon....I'm going to be a Grandma!"
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.

Smile and Wave

Mom's latest go-to moves, no matter when you see her and when she sees you, are to give you a giant smile, and wave. Not a giant arm-flailing wave, or a miss america wave, but just a good Mom wave that makes you want to give her walk over, give her a hug, and ask her what's new, how she's feeling, can I get you anything? And in case you are wondering, typically the answer is either No, or, Twizzlers.
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.

Rest and relaxation

So at this point, we're up to 3 types of eggs if you count egg salad. And I can give any fry cook a run for their money based on Mom's morning breakfast routine.
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!

Round 2

Dad, Mom, and I are doing great. Mom has now taught me two ways to make eggs for breakfast (scrambled and over easy). She's definitely easing me into the cooking arena, which I appreciate. Monday night, her dog Kemba of course won the national championship, though thankfully for mom's sake she fell asleep at halftime and didn't have to subject herself to the cruelty that was the watching of that whole game. All day today, "Butler really shot 18%, wow, that's bad." Mom summed it up perfectly. Then tonight, we hoped Notre Dame women would bring home a championship, but not to be. Oh well. Tonight's an early to bed, early to rise (though I can still hear Mom laughing at Leno!). Tomorrow is one of our once every two week appointments at the hospital to get her Avastin chemo treatment. It's just her second go around, but we're looking forward to it as it seems to have helped out greatly already these past two weeks. All for now, but do want to thank everyone for their prayers and well wishes. Love you, Mom. Goodnight.

Family Car Ride

Very fun weekend as Mark, Abigail, and Aunt Kate all came back to hang out in the Sedalia Wuellner pad. Friday night was an easy one, with quick catch up and early bed time, all except Mark who got in really late but of course in time for a 2 am chat w Mom who is awake at odd hours of the night. Saturday, Mom voiced her opinion of needing to break out of the house and see the real world. So we all piled into the car and went for a scenic country drive along the backroads - completed by a trip to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. Sun glasses, windows down, and rocky road / peanut butter chocolate ice cream on a sugar cone. Mom was happy and so were we. At night we caught the two basketball games, the gamblers in us wished we had listened harder to Mom at the start of the tourney as her dog Kemba impressed the nation yet again. Should be a fun game tomorrow night. And Sunday, always the shortest day for everyone. We had a feast for lunch thanks to Aunt Kate, Mark, and Abigail. Then mid-day, the two ladies headed out, and then by twilight Mark had to do the same. The weekend rounded itself out nicely as Dad will be happy to see when he wakes up that the ND women advanced to the NCAA finals over favorite UCONN. Nice ending to a great weekend, but the real highlight was the same as it was when I was 5. Car ride with the family, dad and mom in the front seats, sun out, windows down, and ice cream before heading home. Love you, Mom. Goodnight.

Looking Good

Mom's greatest feature is that she's always smiling when you walk into the room. But Mom outdid herself today, when I walked into the family room to see her upright in an easy chair, legs up on the ottoman, just kickin' it and reading a book. As relaxed as ever, with a large grin across her face. You look good, Mom. Love you. See you in the morning.

Time to make the donuts!

Mom certainly knows how to wake up. 7 am, papa jake's donuts (which for the record, are both the best and cheapest donuts in this world - get a bigger tip jar!). Cake donuts with sugar are her current favorite. Some quality chat time, surf on the iPad, earmark a couple recipes that we'll cook this weekend, shower, nap, then dinner and Idol. All in a days's work. Thank you again for all of the visits from friends and the inundation of so much delicious food - we have certainly needed it and enjoyed it as the cooking genes have yet to fully evolve in the Wuellner boys. There's literally only so much frosted mini wheats and Mac & Cheese in the pantry. Mom is soundly asleep on the couch next to me, so I think I'll turn in as well. sweet dreams, Mom, and to everyone else as well. Goodnight.

Home with Mom

Kathy, thank you so much. Very touching, and I look forward to praying with Mom every day. The reason I get to say this amazing sentence is that due to Deloitte's and my project team's virtual/flexible work environment, I will now be living and working from home in Sedalia for the next 6-8 weeks. Mom and I have already spent a great 24 hours together, she is as lucid as I've seen her in weeks - a credit to her, first of all, and to the second chemo treatment called Avastin that she began last Wednesday. She is walking more nimbly, awake more hours of the day, and doing just great. So incredibly happy to now get to see her smile everyday for a long period of time. We love you, 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

March Madness

It was a long weekend for all of us, but for all the right reasons. Sad to say, all of our teams, AND I MEAN ALL OF OUR TEAMS, lost in the NCAA tourney this weekend. First Vandy (Dad), next Nova (Luke), quickly thereafter Xavier (Mark, Maggie), and then tonight, Notre Dame (Dad, Abigail, Adam, Carrie). Makes me convinced that if St. Catherine (Mom) were in the tourney, they would definitely have moved on to the Sweet 16.

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.

Waiting out the storm

Another fun weekend with Mom, Abigail, and Dad. Abigail and I drove home late Friday night, narrowly avoiding some random hail storms amid Tornado warnings. Don't worry, Mom taught us well, we pulled over and hung out at a Bread Co. and waited it out.

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.