Weddings and Funerals

My maternal grandma died in 1992. She had been sick for about a year, with leukemia. While her death was not unexpected, that still doesn’t mean you’re ever ready to lose someone you love.

She died on a Thursday, and family poured in from all over the southeast part of the country over the weekend, until at last it was the morning of her funeral. We all enjoyed seeing one another again; it seems like the only time the extended family gets together is for a wedding or a funeral. Why is that?

Right before it was time to leave her and Grandpa’s house to go to the church, all the family was there. I scooted into the bathroom real quick, just before time to leave. Sat down, did my business, stood up to get everything straightened back down ----- and got the chain on my charm bracelet tangled in my panty hose. The charm bracelet was on my right wrist, and I’m right-handed, so I didn’t have much luck untangling it with my awkward left hand. I didn’t want to just jerk because I knew that would rip a big hole in my panty hose (this was back in the day, when women actually *wore* panty hose with dresses) so I did the only logical thing I could do.

Yelled for my sister to come help me.

She then yelled for my mom, who then yelled for two of my aunts, and before you know it, we had five or six grown women in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at the sight of me, hunched over in the bathroom with my panty hose and underwear around my knees, tangled up in my charm bracelet.

It felt good, that day, to laugh. Especially after so many days of feeling sad.

Jenny and Tre’ gave us a great gift as they shared Catie’s journey, struggles and triumphs with the rest of us these past three years. Sunday at the visitation and Monday at the funeral, they also gave us the gift of laughter at a difficult time. Monday was truly a celebration of Catie’s life, and it felt good to enjoy those memories, and enjoy the company of friends, with their blessing.

There were twenty cancer moms and dads, who had come from all over Georgia, at the visitation Sunday evening. Afterwards, we went out to dinner together. We chatted, we laughed, we remembered Catie, a speech was made, and we toasted to her and Jenny and Tre’. I hope when I die, that the people who care about me can come together and enjoy one another’s company and laugh … there can be no better legacy than leaving a smile on the faces of those left behind. We all cried, too, but mostly this weekend, we smiled when we thought of Catie.

If Jenny and Tre’s aim for the Celebration of Life Service on Monday morning was to honor Catie, and evoke the memories of her that brought all of us the most joy, well, they were certainly successful. The photos were beautiful, the video montage was heart warming, and in almost every picture, Catie was smiling and laughing. Sometimes hysterically. And so we smiled and laughed as we remembered her.

My favorite comment from the service was when Catie’s Aunt Nikki spoke of her, and reminded us that, “Catie’s life isn’t over …. It’s just happening in a different place.” What a wonderful thought, and one that made me happy.

The grace and composure evidenced by her parents was amazing. Jenny stood and spoke of her sweet, sweet daughter, something many wouldn’t have the strength to do. Tre’ played a tribute to Catie on his trumpet. Although we joked with him later that his new nickname is “Sweet Lips” …. Let me tell you, I’ve never heard applause at a funeral, but after his playing, we applauded.

Another touching moment for me was at the graveside service, when Jenny and Tre’ opened a box, and released a dozen (two?) monarch butterflies into the air at the cemetery. It was such a perfect tribute to a wonderful little girl, watching those beautiful butterflies flutter up into the nearby trees.

It was healing for me personally, and I hope for the others, to remember and honor Catie in such a positive way. I hope, most of all, that it was healing for her family. They were so kind to welcome and include all of us cancer parents, and even invited us to the church for the family lunch afterwards.

And because it wouldn’t be a true event without a Kristie-moment, I can tell you that Catie’s great-grandma, who sat at our table at the luncheon, asked me when my baby was due in front of everyone. Now, her mind was sharp as a tack and she could hear everything, but she is 86 years old so I’m telling myself that obviously her vision is failing. Why else would she have asked that? It couldn’t have anything to do with the huge, overflowing plate I had just brought back from the dessert buffet, would it? :)

I share these details with you because so many of you have been kind enough to ask about Catie and share your comments. I’ve gotten private e-mails, as well. You didn’t have to know Catie and her family personally to care about them, and that’s been evident in all the guestbook signatures on her site. I’m sure your kind notes have brought much comfort to Jenny and Tre’. Thank you for doing that.

And thank you to my friends from Atlanta/Moultrie, whose caring and compassion, along with the generosity of Jenny and Tre’, turned this into an uplifting gathering. Spending time with all of you was the most beneficial thing for my spirit. But since most of our kids are young, we’re not waiting on a wedding to get together again. That could take years.

And in the meantime, we’ve got more laughing and smiling to do.

Good-bye, Catie-bug.

Catie Marie

Catie Marie
September 26, 2002 - January 18, 2007

My heart is just sick at the loss this wonderful family has suffered. So many people, thousands and thousands of people, have been logging on to Catie’s site last night and today to leave words of encouragement, support, and condolence for her family. I feel luckier than most … we knew Catie personally. We consider her and her family to be our friends.

I have often wished that Jenny and I lived closer to one another because I think we could be really *good* friends. (Maybe Jenny hasn’t wished it, but I have!) Although younger than me, and not a mother as long, she is definitely the kind of mother I aspire to be. In the two and a half years we’ve known them, I have never, not once, seen her lose her patience with Catie or the terrible situation they found themselves in. Never raise her voice, never get frustrated. Never voice an unkind or ungracious thought. Catie was her universe, and anyone who watched them together for even a moment knew that. Those of you who have followed their journey via Caringbridge knew that. Jenny and Tre’ were so blessed to have Catie as their daughter. Catie was so blessed to have them as parents. And Heaven is truly blessed to have welcomed such a sweet angel through its gates late last night.

I wish I lived closer to Atlanta as Catie’s final hours drew near last night. So many of my cancer-mom friends were able to go to the hospital and be with Jenny and Tre’ and the rest of their family; to say good-bye to Catie, give one final kiss, to support them, and support one another at the end. I should have driven up yesterday afternoon, but to be honest, my heart still believed that Catie would pull through, as she’s fought back so many times. I wasn’t ready. I’m sure Jenny and Tre’ and the rest of Catie’s family weren't ready, either. … anywhere near ready.

As a Christian, I am comforted by the belief that Catie is standing tall and straight in Heaven today, running and skipping and jumping and playing as she was never able to here on Earth. I think she has hair long enough for bows, and lots of friends to play with. I hope Jenny is right, and lots of puppies, too.

I went back through Kendrie’s cancer scrapbook, looking for photos of Catie. In every photo I have, she and Kendrie are right next to one another. They got along so well, and I’m sorry that we weren’t able to get them together more often. Looking at these photos today brought back many happy memories for me, which is good, since smiling through tears is sometimes the only bearable way to cry.

The song that is playing now, I played on the site the first night Kendrie went off-treatment and went to bed without chemo. It’s called “A Final Dream” and is about a little girl and new beginnings. I think it’s perfect for Catie, as she began again today. It’s not the new beginning I wanted for her. Selfishly, I wanted Catie to have her transplant and then begin her new cancer-free life here on Earth, surrounded by her family and friends who love her so very much. Instead, it was time for her new beginning in Heaven, also surrounded by people who love her. But her family and friends left behind are hurting; please remember everyone in your thoughts and prayers.



This was July 2004, the first time we met Catie's family in person after communicating online. It was a Lighthouse family retreat in Florida, and our families were assigned to stay in the same condo. Kendrie and Catie hooked up fast and adored one another. They weren't really that close in age, Catie was almost two and Kendrie was almost five. But they really enjoyed one another. In this picture, they're laying on the floor watching tv together.




This was a month later, when the girls both had chemo appointments on the same day. We met up at the clinic and then went out for lunch afterwards. I think *I* enjoyed it as much as the little ones did. :)




A few months later, and there's even some hair growth for Kendrie at this point! Our families were having dinner after the Lighthouse Christmas party in Atlanta. (Catie was apparently having something with marinara sauce!) :)




Again, chemo appointments on the same day.




Jenny and Catie had been staying in the Ronald McDonald house in Atlanta while Catie finished up her treatment ... or at least what we all hoped would be the end. We had a clinic day, so we bought lunch and took it to the RM House to hang out.

In hindsight, that's what a lot of our time together seemed to be about ... just hanging out and making the most of a difficult time for both families. Chemo in Atlanta is much more endurable if you know you're having lunch or dinner with friends afterwards! But it's so much more than that, as the parents in this cancer world can attest .... it's getting to know these families and these beautiful children and coming to care about them so very much.

And at its most basic, the most simple part, is something every decent human being understands. Its recognizing a beautiful little girl and her wonderful family, and counting yourself lucky to consider them friends.

We will miss you, Catie.

LIVING VICARIOUSLY THROUGH YOU, BABY!

35 Days to Go

Thanks so much to all of you who responded to my nervous ramblings as kindly and empathetically as you did. It’s comforting to know that more experienced cancer parents have “been there done that” and that all parents, those whose children have other illnesses, and even those whose children are healthy, sometimes get caught with dark thoughts in their head. Thankfully, like almost everything else in my head, nothing sticks around long!

And so, because Rule #1 in Creative Writing Class is “Don’t Depress People on a Regular Basis” (Actually, I have no idea if that’s rule #1. I don’t even know if there ARE any rules in creative writing. I dropped out of college. What a loser. Kids, do NOT try that at home! ) I was feeling pretty unsettled with my last entry, so I’m giving you guys good news with today’s entry. No more depressing babbling. Otherwise, coming here to visit this site would be about as appealing as your annual proctologist’s visit. So read on for much cheerier stuff!

Kendrie had her next-to-last clinic visit for chemo yesterday ….. it’s getting very surreal, to say the least. She will continue to go to Atlanta once a month (or perhaps once every other month, getting local labs drawn in between) for a year after she goes off-treatment. Then the visits will gradually get spaced out more and more …. Once every three months for a year, once every four months, every six months, etc. I was so busy talking to her oncologist, in a half-joking-but-not-really sort of way about “is he absolutely, positively sure it’s ok for her to go off chemo?”, that I completely forgot to get a school excuse, a note for the flu shot, and an excuse to get out of jury duty next month. (Scheduled the same week as her final chemo.) So if I wind up sick with the flu, sitting in court with an expelled child by my side, you’ll know why. Oh, and he turned down my request for additional chemo, with a bemused, “I *think* this lady is joking” sort of look on his face.

But that’s not my good news ---- are you ready?!? OUR FRIEND CATIE HAD HER FINAL RADIATION TREATMENT YESTERDAY AND IS FINSIHED WITH HER MEDULLOBLASTOMA TREATMENT!!!! Or, as Kendrie so nicely put it, “Catie is finished with cancer!!!” (Of course, first she cried because Catie is finished and she’s not and that’s just not fair and why does she have to have cancer longer than anybody??? Then I reminded her that Catie *started* cancer before Kendrie did, so then it all balanced out and Kendrie was fine with it. Obviously, she’s six.)

Yep, Catie was diagnosed on her first birthday with medulloblastoma, a brain tumor. Now I don’t care who you are, that timing just SUCKS! Her mom Jenny and I met online, then our families got to meet in person at the 2004 Lighthouse Retreat, and Kendrie and Catie have been fast friends ever since. Honestly, I could not have been happier for them yesterday! I even shed a little tear on her behalf, although if you had asked, I would have insisted I had an eyelash stuck in my eye because everyone knows I am not the touchy-feely type and I don't cry in public.



After living for seven weeks at the Atlanta Ronald McDonald House, four hours from home, they were packing up the Explorer and heading home! We treated them to a gourmet lunch of McDonalds Happy Meals a) because it seemed fitting since it would be Catie’s last meal at the Ronald McDonald house b) because Kendrie really wanted the Chicken Little toy inside and c) because I only had $10 in my wallet and that’s the best I could do.


Kendrie, posing outside the Ronald McDonald house.



Catie is by no means finished, as she will continue to have speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, not to mention follow up visits, scans, bloodwork, physicals, Brain Tumor clinic, etc, etc. BUT NO MORE CHEMO!!! And she has made a public declaration that she is getting herself some hair for the first time ever, and Santa Claus is bringing her some bows and ribbons this Christmas!

Catie, dear, you deserve no less. All our best wishes to you and your beautiful family.

Please drop by Catie’s site and leave her a note of congratulations on finishing over two years of chemo, surgeries, and radiation to kick cancer’s butt!

Woo-hooo, Catie! You get the party started, girlfriend!

Take care, Kristie

PS. Thanks also for your encouragement and support for Keegan. The best news of all is that his bone marrow results from yesterday came back clear! Now they are still waiting on some other test results (that are inconclusive at this point .... talk about a head game for his poor parents) before charting their course …. Keegna, Audra, Mike and all, we are continuing to think of you guys during these stressful days!