In Memory

Two weeks ago, I lost a very close family member to colon cancer. After her diagnosis in January 2007, she put on a very brave face and never, ever complained about the unimaginable pain that I am sure she was in every single day. She had most of the tumors removed in February 2007 but they returned last year. She was unable to keep any food down since November and spent New Year's Eve in a hospital bed. After being told that the cancer was inoperable, she was more determined than ever to live without worry with unwavering faith. She worried more about her friends and family than herself.

I am incredibly humbled by the knowledge that she trusted me so much during the most difficult period of her life. I am quite known for having a queasy stomach and being quick to tear up. But when someone is sick --really sick-- vanity dissipates as does fear and timidity. There were many days when I wanted to cry or scream or vomit or completely break down. But I didn't. If she could be strong, why couldn't I?

Of course, there were tears. When all the visitors had gone and it was just us, alone in her bedroom as I hooked her up to her nightly IV, she'd admit that she had a bad day and cry. But those (bad) days, as far as she was concerned, were few and far between.

Lynn always supported me as I've grown through the years. She surprised me at my graduation in Auburn years ago. She purchased a copy of each issue of the magazine I write for even though I gave her a free copies. When I stopped by each afternoon, she'd ask how my job search was going, if I'd heard back after an interview, if I needed anything.

I'll never really be able to explain how these past few months have affected me. Not as a person, as a writer, as a family member, or as a friend. Over the next few months, I'll try to work through the guilt, the what if's, the sadness, and the loss. That said, I am forever grateful and changed by the time spent with her. While I was busy whining about not having a job, I am thankful that I had so much extra time to be with Lynn.

In typical Lynn fashion, one of the last things she asked for that Sunday night before she passed away was a beer. A beer! She never got to have that beer but I'm having large glass of wine for her tonight.


You fought quietly, loudly
With humor, grace
Kept a smile upon your face
The time has come for you to rest
I won’t protest.
I’m blessed.

We love ya, Lynn.