Humor and Cancer

Today while ticking off a long list of errands we were listening to NPR's program "HumanKind." Ironically it was about engaging humor while having cancer. Most of the guests were comedians, all of which proclaimed their ability to laugh through the treatments essentially saved their lives.

I remember after the initial shock of Joe's diagnosis we resorted to our usual sarcastic humor. But that fades when you see your child deteriorate daily, when you have to sign a power of health attorney, when you realize the last chemotherapy protocol wiped out all memories of his childhood and then hear the words, falling like bricks on your ears, "there is nothing more we can do". Watching your son, who read such great books as The Count of Monte Cristo, Don Quixote and Nietzshe for fun, be diluted to "The Carrot War" and only enjoying the pictures; finding humor is an incredibly difficult stretch.

Joe never had the feeling of being punished by his cancer, but in his last months he often asked why me, to which we never had the answer. It was the luck of the draw, a crap shoot and a one in a million odds that this ugly bone cancer would finally claim his life.

Do I think our lack of humor at the end did not save him, no I believe our love for Joe helped him die with dignity.

It Must Be August

Our lower level room, which is a direct shot to the car, is filled with large bags of bedding, bins of school supplies and clothes bags of pants, ties and suit jackets. Yes, it must be August and time for Tony and David to return to McCallie

They are driving themselves back to Chattanooga, a senior year tradition in our family. They will attend a week of RA training and then be totally immersed into their senior year. This year will fly by and I know our phone conversations will be limited since the demands on their time will be more than in the past.

This is our transition to college, and no where similar to boarding school where you are still in contact with teachers, dorm heads and advisors. They will slowly move towards more independence and eventually make the break to be on their own.

It is great time for a parent to see your children take one more step to growing up and growing into themselves.

Are You Kidding?

What are the chances of driving from Charlotte to Connecticut to Providence to Boston and back again you would experience eight traffic jams? Well, that was our road trip and every two hours we were at a dead stop. Seven of them were on our way up and the last was in the wee hours of the morning on the return in the middle of no where. It was a challenge, but I have to admit with all of the "everything that could go wrong did" it was worth every minute. David realized Brown was a place for him; Tony experienced the maybe of Tufts. Each added them to the top of their lists while coffee, GPS and two more campus visits are now found on mine.

College visits and traveling challenges aside, it was the perfect trip. Having your teenage children trapped in a confined space often spawns conversation, especially in the dark when they know you can't see their faces and all positions are facing forward. This was their trip to decide, narrow down, take the next step; my part was to listen in amazement of how they have grown up.

I know we all say where did the time go, how can it be we are at this point, when they are taking flight to make their own way. Ironically, on this long and arduous trip I never asked myself that question. I sat quietly, reminiscing times we spent together and looking forward to many more years with Tony and David. I can't wait to see what they will become.

Surprise Another Road Trip

Within hours we have switched our attention from raising money for bone cancer research to a college road trip. Bright, well not so much bright, but most certainly early in the morning Tony, David and I will be heading to the Northeast to visit Tufts and Brown.

Bridging the gap of Joe, who is gone, and Tony and David, who are still with us, is tenuous. It is a tightrope we tread everyday, not too much this way, a bit more that way; a constant balancing act.

So we honored Joe these past two nights, and now it is Tony and David's turn and their road to college.

Joedance Film Festival 2010

Last night marked the beginning of the Joedance Film Festival 2010 to raise money for Rare and Complex Cancer Research at Levine Children's Hospital, where Joe received all of his care. It was night of family and friends gathered in our courtyard to watch "An Education". The weather held up until show time and then it came down in buckets. We rescued the tables, food and chairs and ran for cover. Our neighbors Dave and Deb graciously opened their home and we gathered there to watch the first of what we hope to be many years of films at Joedance.

Later that night I opened the unassuming brown paper covered box set out for donations that Whitney made and sent with her husband Cam; who by the way helped Mike cook the hot dogs; and found the first checks written for Joedance. Each one given with love and hopefully will help another child be one step closer to a cure. We cannot bring Joe back but we can honor his devotion to raising money for bone cancer research which is horribly under funded. Thank you to everyone who has supported our efforts to carry on his mission.

Tonight the skies are Carolina blue and no rain within miles. We will cook hot dogs, eat popcorn and watch "Big Night".

What A Day

Grief counseling, the dentist and clothes shopping with two 17 year old boys in one day: Torture! Seeing Inception with my family: Truly wonderful!

And The Third Goodbye

Our family has nearly become professional at "spreading ashes". Anyone who knew Joe would not be surprised that he had precise requests of where and how his ashes would be spread. His first was for some to be kept with us in our home so, as he said it, "I can always be close to you". Then there were three other locations dear to his heart: McCallie, Holden Beach, where we spent a week every summer, and the last was Charleston; the place where he spent time with his friends.

So this past Sunday, in Charleston, I stood in Josh's kitchen after cooking four pounds of spaghetti, roasting two chickens and making a huge salad vividly remembering the first time I ever cooked for his friends. It was after a swim meet when we were living in Knoxville. They came to our house and devoured the food, just as they did Sunday night. Each of them started telling stories of when they had their first "Restaino'' dinner and the flood of happy memories came back. There were so many over the past years and we were thrilled to cook every one of them.

So I leaned on the counter donned in the yellow apron Joe gave me for Christmas and felt peace.