Dear Family and Friends

It’s December and bitter cold this year.  The schools had their first snow day because of rain over snow-covered roads.   Unlike the poor deer, we are keeping warm and looking forward to Christmas.  As always, we are enjoying the cards and letters we receive from you.  I spoke with Shana on the phone a few moments ago, and I told her that I was going to send a short newsletter this year.

 Silence.

 And then we both laughed and laughed.

 Shana, Mike and the boys will be here from December 23 to Jan. 3—our first time together that her cancer won’t have us all its scary grip.  First diagnosed with breast cancer in May, she was looking at months of treatment, which ended in November. Her Marquette visit this summer was cut short to get home to the University of Penn Hospital for a double mastectomy on July 10.  We flew out on July 9 to help.  Actually, our flight was canceled due to fog; we arrived on July 10 to relieve the sitter…I think Shana was already out of surgery.  We had the boys for four days by ourselves.  Yeah.  We can chuckle now, but oh boy.  We couldn’t drive anywhere nor walk anywhere in 90 degree plus heat; however, some of my most treasured moments with the boys came from this trip:  two-year-old Pax wearing only Batman or Superman shirts and capes, eating chocolate toast every morning, giving sponge baths, reading books and Lego Ninjago, watching YouTube videos of battleships blowing up and of Mickey Mouse, running through the sprinkler, doing art projects, wrestling with Grandpa (“Bapa”) and enjoying Mike’s yummy vegetable soup.

I attended their neighborhood-block party and met really nice supportive people—the food was amazing, too.  Shana, looking fabulous, came out for twenty minutes, got in one or two photos, and was back inside.  She had a really tough go of it, and I’m just so thankful that we could be with her to help.

She has written quite eloquently about this latest chapter on her Ain’t No Mom Jeans blog that you will find especially insightful.  If you would like to read what she has written, there are two articles in particular, “I don’t know how to talk about this” and “This wild and precious life” that are especially inspirational.

I flew out again for her first chemo treatment in early September, and then Bill and I flew out in November for her last one.  The chemo itself was tough, but the crazy side effects of other meds made it even tougher.  Mike’s mom, Susan, helped with the second chemo treatment, and two of her good friends flew out from Denver for the third treatment.  Shana had amazing support from family and friends and from so many readers of her blog in the form of prayers, cards, food, and flowers.   Hopefully, we can now put this chapter in the books.

The boys were being good sports for Nana.

Just before we flew home.

We spent eight weeks in Gulf Shores—two weeks too long; I missed being home.  Our trip down was fraught with ice storms and a crazy backup on the freeway.  We were stuck on a quarter-mile stretch in Arkansas for 5 hours.  Cars were being towed across an icy bridge in front of us, and the bridge was actually closed for three of those hours.  Thank goodness for Scotti and our iPhones; she identified the only exit on this stretch, and when we finally reached it around 8:30 p.m., she directed us to the closest hotel, where we stayed for two nights.  The manager became the chef as everything was closed down.  Can hardly wait to see what our upcoming trip will bring.

Some photos from our stay in Gulf Shores:

We celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary in a very unique way.  We planned a  dinner with Scotti and Zach at the Vierling.

The kids surprised us with a photo board of our favorite “couple” pictures and balloons  and had a bottle of champagne waiting at our table.   The next morning (our anniversary) Adam, Shana and Scotti had forty roses delivered to us in sets of ten, 1½ hours apart.  

A memory from a family member or a friend was typed on a piece of paper attached by a thin ribbon to each of the roses. You cannot imagine the fun of reading these messages (some from you), and now these messages live on forever in a photo book that Scotti gave us.  Such a great idea.

We didn’t get to Calgary this year to see Adam and Krysta, but Adam did fly out to visit with Shana just before her last chemo treatment.  So our visit to Philly overlapped, and we were able to spend some time with Adam there.  We had hoped to visit Adam and to see his new home in Calgary, but 2013 was a bit crazy; for sure in 2014. Our grandsons Jake (14) and Zachary (11) are busy with school and their sports.

Jake plays baseball and Zachary plays soccer, and they both ski.  Love that Adam sends us pictures from their Lake Louise skiing adventures.  So lucky.

Scotti and Zack are becoming very handy around their new home.  A favorite spot in the summer is their deck off the back of the house.  Scotti is in her fourth year teaching world history and English at Westwood High School.  Scotti’s school did a breast cancer fund-raiser at a girl’s volleyball game in October, and the girls honored Shana at that game. Zack’s nephew Ethan and his hockey teammates did a similar breast cancer tribute to Shana (‘#Take that breast cancer’ photo).

Zack is a dry waller and Mr. Fixit for things at camp, for which I am so grateful.  They went to Riviera Maya on the Yucatan Peninsula for a belated honeymoon in June (we cat sat for Leo. Yay!) and had an amazing time.  They said it was everything they had hoped it would be.

A wedding of good friends took them to Las Vegas on their one-year anniversary.  How lucky to be celebrating in Vegas.

They have graciously hosted Thanksgiving for both sets of parents this year, a rummage sale, and surprise birthday parties (right, Zack?).

Scotti’s birthday celebration.

Christmas will once again be at their home.  Such a blessing to have them here. There were two separate weeks when I was in Philly with Shana that Scotti took care of her dad making sure that he ate dinner with them and helping with meds.

When asked how Bill is doing, I always say ok, because he is.  We continue to learn more and more about Lewy Body Dementia as we talk to his doctors.  It was encouraging to learn that some LBD patients can have remarkably little change from year to year.  He has a problem with short-term memory; so thankful we are all in his long-term memory.

We continue to work out in the morning, go to the occasional movie, play or concert.   I do a 60-minute BodyPump class twice a week with Scotti, which I really enjoy.  I’m kept very busy as president of my P.E.O. group and as the treasurer of Marquette’s beautification committee.  Summers will find us enjoying happy hour with our good friends, puttering around camp, and walking everyday.

A short, but fun-filled visit to camp

The Goldens and Oslunds continue to help us at camp, anticipating what needs to be done before we even think to ask, which is so incredibly helpful…even when it sometimes backfires.

In early September, I was in Philly when Jim Golden decided to take the docks in for the winter.  So…Sam and Jim pulled their docks out of the water…and then took ours out, too.  Uh-oh!  I like to keep our dock in until October.  I love sitting on our dock (with a glass of wine, naturally), even if I need to wear a jacket and a scarf.  Additionally, Al and Arlene Schick were coming from Winnipeg in late September to enjoy the lake.  Arlene is like me, wanting to hang out on the dock.  You can imagine my shock when I returned home and found my beloved dock sitting on the retaining wall.  My conversation later with Jim started like this:  “You know I love you and so appreciate your help . . . ”   To make a long story short, Jim and Sam, despite my protestations, put the dock back in (our neighbor Tim stood with a cup of coffee watching them, “didn’t you just take this out?”) and fun on the dock was had for another few weeks.  Gay and Sam took it out again in October, in much icier water.  It’s so hard to reward that kind of friendship.  We are blessed.

A favorite photo that gets me through these cold days. Summer is coming.

A camp sunrise

We lost a dear, dear friend this year, Mike Meldrum, at the age of 64.  This will be Linda’s first Christmas without him.  We keep him in our prayers, and he will forever remain in our hearts.  He is so terribly missed.

I enjoy this walk down memory lane, and it’s why I do this newsletter every year.  While I hope that you, too, enjoy reading it, we most hope that you and your family are well and enjoying this special time.  Our lives seem to get busier, but as we were reminded in the last sermon we heard, it’s important to sit and listen.  I’m working on that.  May you, too, enjoy the gift of time with your loved ones.

Love, Tina and Bill