I'm Just Being a Silly Girl

One year ago today my phone rang and it was my mom with the worst news I had ever heard. 

One year. 

Before I know it, I will be saying that it has been one year since my mom passed. I hate that word. I hate not having a mom here.

This last year has been the toughest of my life and I hope we never see a year like it again. I can only speak from my experience with pancreatic cancer and I know how tough it was. I imagine all cancers are tough. Many can be treated and cured. I hear, about other cancers, “the prognosis is good,” or “the survival rate is really high.” I never heard that from a single person. My mom never heard that either. Can you imagine what it must have been like for her? This woman, strong and courageous, was told from day one that there was absolutely no hope. She was told that she was going to die. She said she wasn’t scared, but how could you not be? Maybe not scared of where she was going, but she had to be scared of what was happening.

Everyone knows that my mom chose to fight. Some might find that a strange statement, but if you know anything about this particular disease then you know that is a choice that must be made. One road takes a person straight to the end of this life but still requires heavy medication. The other road can buy time, one month, two months, a year maybe three, maybe more. There is just no way of knowing. Life is full of uncertainties. That is what makes it hard. I personally like to read the end of the book first. It is just my way. My mom didn’t want to know until she made her way through all of the chapters. You can probably guess which road I wanted my mom to take. I am proud of the decision she made. She wanted to make sure she tried everything she could just on the chance that she could be the one who could beat it. I didn’t want my mom to die, but I didn’t want her to suffer. Who would? I knew what my path for her would mean. But, I wanted quality, something she didn’t really have. No regrets, never. My mom is a hero. It was just her time.

People told me that they were amazed at how I handled everything and how they would have been a wreck. I had them fooled. I didn’t fool my mom, but I didn’t fall apart very often around her either. Instead, I fell apart at home. I did my best to raise her spirits, encourage her and I told her all about Heaven. Haven’t been there yet, but I have read a lot and one of my best friends has ministered to me when I have asked. He has read a lot too. I wanted to make sure that my mom understood what was happening and I wanted her to know what was waiting for her. Most of those discussions happened during the last month. No, I didn’t handle it well and I feel like I am sort of paying the price now. My mom didn’t need to worry about me; she needed to believe that I was okay. That’s actually funny now that I think about it. I am terribly emotional and my mom knew it. I wonder how different it would have been if I had not tried so hard to keep it all in. Look, I knew in my heart that this disease was going to take her life. No matter how much I wanted it different, something inside told me that I needed to accept that every day during the last year was going to be the last date that I was going to have her here. I couldn’t change it. 

No, I am not strong. I am just a good faker. Nothing has changed inside me over the last year; I just don’t have the hurt of seeing her suffer. I have the hurt of not seeing her. I can’t figure out which is worse. So many little tiny things happen and her smiling face pops up in my head. That’s hard. I don’t cry all of the time but then I never did. I cry hard in spurts. I miss my mom but then I’ve said that a time or two. I wonder what I hope to accomplish by repeating myself. I don’t like repeating myself, but on this subject I just do. Mom isn’t coming back. I don’t really need her to, I just want her to. And I know I am not alone, it just seems like a very lonely club I belong to. I wasn’t ready to join but here I am. 

I keep writing because I think that one day a light bulb will go off and my grieving will be over. Maybe by putting my words out “there” I will force myself to keep going and ultimately I will be okay. Sometimes, I’m just not okay. Words don’t help. It just hurts. I do kind of hope that maybe my pathetic self could be helping someone else that is going through the same thing. I know how many people read, I have even heard from a few. So if I can’t figure out myself then maybe you, or you over there, are saying to yourself right now, “that sad girl is hurting just like me. I’m not alone.”

One year since the diagnosis. It has been long and short. I haven’t been back to the grave. I’m not sure I will ever go. She isn’t there. I have only been back to my parent’s house twice. I think that makes me a bad daughter. The last time I was there, I looked around and couldn’t absorb anything. I really thought she would come down the hallway with her crossword puzzle complaining that she only needed one more word. I need to go. I need to help clean out her closet. I said I would but now, it’s easier to stay away. The heart of that home is gone. 

My mom is still gone. I hate pancreatic cancer. I wish everyone did. 

I should be proud of my fundraising for this disease. Instead, I feel I haven’t been able to honor my mom properly. However, with the help of a wonderful person at PanCan, my city has written a proclamation declaring November Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month. All I did was send the prewritten letter to the mayor. But, I am telling myself that because of PanCan and because of me, my city is honoring my mom in November. (I know that isn’t the reality). My mom would be so proud. Now I feel I have made a difference. Silly isn’t it?

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

Can a Fish Be Spayed? Just Wonderin'

I think my fish is a sex addict. There, I said it. I am not proud of her, but I think an intervention is in her future. I realize this has nothing to do with my grieving process or fundraising, but this is something that has been brewing in my house, ok in my fish tank, for quite some time and I think it is time I address the issue.

It all started oh about 3 or 4 months ago. We have two Dalmatian Mollys and they happen to love each other. Curiously, Lady Molly became pregnant and gave birth. It was a special time in our home. Our daughter just loved the babies and we desperately tried to save as many as we could. In the battle of nature vs. nurture, nature won and we were only able to save three. Unfortunately, most were consumed at an earlier date and one of the three decided the nursery wasn’t comfy and perished. So, two survived and are thriving. Whoo hoo, free fish. 

About a month ago, I noticed that Lady Molly was gaining weight. Being the female that I am, I decided not to point it out to her and hope that it was just stress and she using food to ease her emotions. Nope, she was pregnant…..again. No problem, we learned a few things and we had a plan. Yes, this could work. We would separate her from the other fish into a smaller tank. We would watch her and when she had her babies we would move her back to the bigger tank. 

Lady Molly grew. If you can imagine a pot-belly pig as a fish, that was what she looked like. She even waddled when she swam. Last night I made her a nice tank with new everything, the perfect birthing palace. We moved her this morning. My guess was that she was either going to give birth or just go belly up. We had no choice, my daughter loves babies and we will do just about anything for her. The day went on just like normal. No excitement, no drama. I decided to check on our expectant mom. Yep, she gave birth. It was sweet. There were babies swimming here and there. We moved mom so the babies could have a better chance. Then we started counting. At first, we counted about 10. No problem, we have lined up adoptions. Notice I said “at first.” Lady Molly had roughly 40 babies. You read it right, 40! They are all alive and eating fish food. What do I do with 40 fish if they survive? That doesn’t include the other 12 I have in the original tank. These aren’t guppies, they grow much bigger.

Can you spay a fish? No that would be too hard. I can’t have a talk with her about waiting a little while longer, I don’t speak fish. Although, my son says he can speak dolphin..hmm, something to think about. Seriously, how do I teach my fish that just because he says he loves her doesn’t mean she should make babies with him? This is a dilemma and frankly I just don’t know how to solve it. Can’t flush a live fish; that would be wrong, right? (Please pick your jaws up, I am on the side of the animal/fish). I guess I could get a third tank and put it next to the babies and the hermit crab tanks. Oh my gosh, I just thought of something. Do fish inbreed? Wholly crap (please forgive me)! Are we going to have fish popping out all over the place? Clearly I won’t be sleeping tonight. I will be up trying to keep the boys away from the girls. Oh the life of a parent.

So, we have two four year olds, two dogs, two hermit crabs and 52 fish. The kids I’ll keep, the dogs are old and just want to lie around, the hermit crabs like to redecorate and then the fish… 

WANTED

Lots of free fish to a good home.

Must have own tank.

Send inquiries to me.

I realize this seems made up, but I assure you, it is a true story. I now have 52 fish. I didn’t this morning but I do now. On a side note, my son thinks that all animals poop out babies. I think I will save that discussion for another day. Welcome to my life.

By the way, click on the link below and donate, I’ll send you a fish.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

If You Like Snacks, Come With Me

What do you stand for? Who do you stand for? I have spent a great amount of time in my life asking myself the first question. As cliché as it sounds, I have asked myself, more than once, what is the meaning of life. I have always felt that I have a greater purpose than just muddling by like the masses. Before pancreatic cancer came into my life, I was struggling to find my role in life. Wife, mother, daughter, friend, income bringer-inner and when my mom was diagnosed I added grieving daughter; how to manage those and still feel like a human was the challenge. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mom, wife, friend and daughter. But something has always been missing….me.

Music has been important to me throughout my life. When I was little I would listen to Wacky Westerns and Elvis. As I aged, Elvis and whatever was trendy was what I played. It’s funny how I can hear a song and it takes me right back to a particular time, some were good, and some were not so good. Regardless, I can pair certain events in my life with certain songs. I know I’m not the only one, but in my mind it is my special gift. The last three weeks of my mom’s life were difficult. I think I have driven that home a time or two. My drive to her was no less than an hour and a half, each way. So, I had some time to listen to music. Many times I listened to my kids DVDs or CDs. Simple songs about not hitting or just the alphabet. I did listen to mainstream music too. One song in particular just seemed to play every trip. You have to understand here that I rarely listen to the words. The song had no special meaning to my situation; it just played on the radio…a lot. I hear it sometimes and suddenly I am driving by myself to see what pancreatic cancer did to my mom since I saw her last. Those feelings of what am I going to see or find come pounding back. I like the song and I always listen. I imagine that she is still here. CRAZY! I know! 

There is another song that I have heard a few times. I looked it up, watched and listened. I listened to the words. That is why I am asking, what do you stand for? I thought about it all the way home today. 

What do I stand for?

Tough question, isn’t it? I’ll answer. 

I stand, first and foremost, for my babies. I am their voice, I am their biggest fan. 

I stand for my husband. Smartest person I have ever known. He saved me from a life I wasn’t looking forward to.

I stand for my mom. She can’t anymore. 

I stand for every person who has pancreatic cancer. They have enough to worry about, so I will fight for a cure for them.

I stand for their families. They feel exactly like I do. It’s not fair.

I stand for everyone who will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Today they may have no clue, but tomorrow their world will turn over. They need people in their corner.

I stand for those who have donated. They gave selfishly to this fight. Some because they know me, some because they know the disease.

I stand for those who have not donated because many have no idea what this beast will do. 

Many think they are immune to it. I will stand for you too.

What is my purpose? My purpose for now is to be a wife, mother, fundraiser and a fighter of pancreatic cancer. My purpose is to raise money for a cure. My purpose is to stand for my mom and for all of those affected by pancreatic cancer.

I always thought there should be a commercial that shows people who have the disease, friends and family each standing one at a time in front of a camera. Their eyes would pierce through the screen and they would simply say, “I am the face of pancreatic cancer. I am the face of a fighter.”

I’m not in television; I can’t even get them to notice my cause. But I will say this; 

I am the face of pancreatic cancer! I am the face of a fighter!

What do you stand for? 

Who do you stand for?

While you are thinking, come stand beside me. Fight with me. Who knows, I could bring snacks, I’m a good cook.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBq1E1gbPhY&feature=share

If the Puzzle Pieces Don't Fit, Is It Okay to Jam Them Together and Move On?

Today I feel like I am spent. I really feel like I have nothing more to say, but then that isn’t true because here I am typing.

My mom took center stage last night in a dream. I didn’t like the dream. She was dying. She wanted my dad, brother and me beside her and when we gathered, she fell face first into the pillow. I must have been sleeping that way because it seems strange that I would dream it like that. In the next instance, she was up walking around, still dying, but not dead. She mumbled but never really talked. What does all of that mean? I have no idea.

I cried a lot yesterday, just missed her too much. It seems like each month that passes, I miss her more. I thought it was supposed to get better. At least that is what everyone, and I mean everyone has been telling me. So far, they are wrong. It has been four months. Four really long months. My husband says it has gone by fast. Not for me. I use to call her on my way home from work. She was either first or second on my list of people to call when I had news. My biggest fan is gone….still. I wish God would let her come back, just for one minute, to tell me how to be. It won’t happen and I know that, but still, I wish it would. 

I have a great life. I can’t complain but then most people say that and then turn around and complain about something. Really, I am blessed and I try not to take anything for granted. I am just sad. Not all the time, but in spurts. It’s the same as when she was sick; I was never sad for long stretches. I think I save my sad days up and then let them all come out at once. I don’t do it intentionally; I just have so much other stuff that I have to push the sad back and keep moving. I’m guessing it isn’t the healthiest way to deal, but it just sort of happens. I have considered grief counseling. It doesn’t appeal to me, but it could help. There is a class at my church. As luck would have it, it meets at night when we have soccer practice. By the way did I mention that I volunteered to coach my daughter’s soccer team? Clearly I love to pile things on. So grief counseling at my church is out. I’ll keep writing. I’ll either figure it out or someone will tell me I am doing it wrong.

I think there have just been too many firsts that have happened and I miss telling my mom. People say that she sees us, that she knows what is going on. I’ve said it before, I don’t think so. If the folks in Heaven were able to watch us, know what is going on, they would be heartbroken at the sight of their loved ones grieving and struggling to build this new puzzle we were all given. If that were the case, then Heaven wouldn’t really be Heaven would it? No, my mom is living peacefully, without worry, pain, suffering or heartache. My mom is in Heaven. I know that for sure. Selfishly, I wish she was here. I am wondering what that says about me. I am wishing that my mom leave Gods Kingdom and come back…here. Who would ever want to do that? I am happy for her and I look forward to our reunion, many, many, many years down the road but all I want is 60 seconds. 

I mentioned a puzzle a few lines ago. I love puzzles. As I type, my daughter is putting one together with joy and contentment. I don’t like this puzzle that I’ve been given. It doesn’t want to go together. I am starting to think that the pieces don’t fit. I never wanted it, but it is here and I have to figure it out. My Granny and I would put puzzles together and when one piece wouldn’t fit, she would jam it in and move on. There may be a lesson here. I’ll have to think about it. 

I'm tired, I think I'll put the puzzle away for now. It is just too much for this particular moment. I’ll try again tomorrow. 

Last night, as I was getting my son ready for bed, he told me that of all the moms, I am the best. I asked, “How many moms do you know?” He held up five fingers and then pointed to his thumb. “But this one is you mom.” As silly as it sounds, I am proud to be his most favorite thumb mom. In that moment, I felt loved and I felt joy. 

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

Who Is the Guy Sitting In Regis's Chair?

Preschool, day 2. This day was my test to see if I could really take my kids to school by myself. Could I get them up, fed, dressed and lunches packed and out the door with little or no incidents? I did and I only said one bad word (out of their listening range). I apologize for that. They quietly watched a dvd while I drove for what seemed forever. We made it. No tears, no tantrums and plenty of hugs and kisses. I will admit that I sat in the parking lot after for a little while. I cried…again.

As I drove away, I suddenly realized that I didn’t know what to do. I improvised and went to the grocery store. When I opened the door to my home, the silence was painful. My house is never quiet. What do I do? I did the only thing I could. I turned the television on for sound. I do have a question though. What happened to Regis???? Seriously, I know he retired, but who is the guy sitting next to Kelly now? I turned the tv off. Too quiet . The only sounds I heard were the a/c, fridge and the hermit crabs (Hermie and Princess). They are noisy when it is quiet. Who knew?

My husband summed me up the other day. I am just a girl who doesn’t like change who has been asked to go through too many this past year. He knows me.

I also don’t like to be alone. I can appreciate being alone, but it isn’t my preferred environment. I don’t want a crowd, just a few familiar faces and voices. I have been this way my whole life. Ironically, I moved away to college and lived by myself. Still didn’t like it, but I had cable. Never had it until I went to college. It was a whole new world.

I have not been alone for four years. When the babies came, well, I just had a constant audience. I take that back, there was one day, one very bad day that I was alone. A friend decided to take my kids to play. I was alone in my house…for about two hours. That was the day my mom called to give me the news. I wonder if that is part of the reason I have been dreading this day. I have thought of her a lot, but I haven’t been sad about her. Just sad that my babies are out “in the world.” 

Several hours have passed and I am blessed again with the joyous noise of two children playing, fighting, crying and laughing. I am happy. They are home and all is right again. Day two of preschool, success. We all survived. Just a side note here, Noni, Fella and Mouse Mouse were in their backpacks. At least I know they have their security entourage with them. I love my babies.

You may have noticed that I have taken a break from the constant asking, begging and pleading for a dollar donation to PanCan. I needed that break. It wasn’t 100% because I have been thinking and planning. My break is over. If you haven’t donated, this is a great time to do it. Why? Well why not?

People are getting diagnosed every day. People are suffering every day. People are dying from pancreatic cancer every day. There are a lot of cancers. Many have good odds. Pancreatic cancer does not. If you get a diagnosis today, there is a 94% chance that you will not be here in five years. There is a big chance that you will not be here this time next year. We need a cure and the only way to do that is for you and everyone you know to click on the link below and donate a dollar. Give me one good reason why you aren’t doing that right now.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBq1E1gbPhY&feature=share