jennifers

Lainy you have positively affected so many people, and we are all so lucky to have met you, even if only online. Your light, your humour and your optimism helped to make this board what it is today. Love you Lainy, all the very best, you are going to be SO missed!

Jen

Yeesh, just can’t do things the easy way, can you??!!
You know I’ll be sending prayers, positive thoughts, warm wishes and whatever else you’d like me to send you from here! We all know you’ll do great, but recover quickly – things are never the same here when your banter isn’t included!

Sending love too!!
Jen

Hi Scott,

Sorry you ever had to search out this site, but your attitude will get you far, your humor is contagious. I’m in Calgary, and my Dad had cc.

I just wanted to add my 2 cents about the port. Dad didn’t get one, and after a few months of constant pokes that got more and more difficult, he wished (and so did we) that he had gotten one. I agree that it’s something to discuss with your doctors.

Wishing you all the best – I don’t post often, but read daily. I’ll be watching for your updates!

Jen

This post has me grinning foolishly with watery eyes this morning Lainy. Worthy of a response for sure! Glad to hear you have found someone that sounds so fantastic!

I know I don’t post often anymore. Still on here almost daily, keeping up on everything, but this year was the roughest of my mourning, and I cried enough reading posts, responding to them would have done me in! I missed Dad more then the day he died this last year or so. It’s getting better, I think putting his ashes in their final resting place helped on the anniversary. As did a few visits my Mom and sister had with a medium where he came through VERY loud and VERY clear. Even ordered that Michelle “give his baby girl (me) a hug from him, because she so needs it”. And I did. He also acknowledged my sweet girl, Alyssa Breh, the fact that she was named after him (Breh – Herb (my Dad) spelt backwards), and was told that there is a very strong connection between them. Not just a name, but he died and a part of him lives on in her. Apparently we will see him in her more then any other of the grandchildren. I believe it, I see him in her eyes every day and she has just recently started the same things Katelyn did right after he passed… peek-a-boo, laughing and waving at a spot in her room. Amazing. Other exciting news is that after years of trying and treatments, my sister is expecting… TWINS! Found out on Good Friday after days of dreams of her sitting with Dad and him telling her it would all work out, and is due Christmas Day. Now, tell me Dad didn’t have something to do with THAT timing!

I love you and miss you Lainy (and everyone else), but I’m still here. Just a bit more quiet

Have a lovely day, my CC family!

Jen

The latest update. Pam, I haven’t stopped thinking about Lauren and your family since this all started. We are all here with you in our minds and in our hearts, and the prayers are plentiful. I hope the new machine helps… miracles happen every day, and I hope Lauren is one of them.

All my thoughts and love,
Jen

http://www.loveandhopeforlauren.blogspot.ca/2013/06/monday-morning-update-6313.html

Another update from Pam this morning. Things sound positive today! We are all thinking of you and praying for Lauren and your entire brave and incredible family Pam!

http://www.loveandhopeforlauren.blogspot.ca/

Well, I can’t say I’m happy I made you cry (although a good cry is as soothing as anything else sometimes), but I AM glad I was able to give you another perspective. That’s the thing about this amazing group of people. So many of us follow a similar path, but we all get something different from it. It’s good to hear other peoples thoughts, and somehow it helps to know you really (REALLY) aren’t alone. Once you are here, you can be guaranteed that someone you have never met will be thinking about you and praying for you and your family at any given second of every day. It’s a pretty incredible gift.

As for recording his voice, do it sooner then later. We bought books for Dad to record, but he suddenly went from okay to confused and they never got done. Actually, that’s not true – near the end he did read part of Twas the Night Before Christmas and we listen to it on Christmas Eve, but… it’s not his voice. Not the voice I remember from my childhood. It’s a tired voice. It could be from meds, or high bili levels or just being too tired from chemo, etc. to focus, but it can happen suddenly, and then it’s forgotten about.

Thinking about you all!

Jen

Hi Dorien,
I’m writing from a different perspective – a daughter who lost her Daddy way too early (and I was 30 when he passed away almost 2 years ago)! From day 1, Dad’s attitude was “it is what it is” and really focused his time and energy in making sure that we spent quality HAPPY times together, and he couldn’t stand it when we sat there and concerned ourselves with the later-ons, and the anger and the sadness. We actually got into a few arguements because I kept telling him it WASN’T okay and it really bothered me that he accepted it so easily. Thing is, I’m sure he really didn’t accept it as easily as he let on. I had just had my first child when he was diagnosed, and I know it broke his heart to think of everything he would miss with his kids and grandkids when he was gone. He chose to help us deal with our grief in that year and a half from diagnosis to when he passed by letting us know that HE was going to be okay, and that he needed to know WE were going to be okay.
Once I figured that out, my attitude really did change. I decided it wasn’t fair to him to make him feel somehow guilty by always being so upset that he would be leaving us, because clearly it wasn’t his choice and was hurting him as much (or more) then it was hurting us, whether he let on that it was or not. Once I got that through my head, it was easier to face, and we often even joked about it (believe it or not)! He went to have a family ring made for my Mom out of his wedding band, and when the women asked when he needed it by, he said “well, soon… I don’t know how much time I have left”, and I burst into tears. When we walked outside he burst our laughing and said that the tears were perfect, and that we may as well use the “dying” card while we could. I remember starting to laugh and not being able to stop. He had that ring in hand 5 days later… ha ha.
Anyway, long post that could have been much shorter, I think it’s just so important for us to realize that our loved ones need to know that we are going to be okay. It’s okay to cry, and be mad and be sad, but I think we (or I, at least) needed to focus on helping THEM feel better… they are the ones that are going to have to leave, after all.
Now, 2 years later I am going to be having my second child (due just 3 days before the anniversary of his death), and as sad as I am, I really do know he’s okay because he made sure I knew he would be. You have a beautiful family (I’m obsessed with your blog and instagram, by the way), and you will be fine afterwords. It won’t always be easy, but like others have said, things have a way of working themselves out. For now, just continue to spend time with him and your kids. Make memories and know that it’s true what they say… the memories will get you through. Oh, and one thing I wish I had was something from him with his voice. Sometimes there’s nothing in the world I want more then to hear his voice. Just a thought for your kids. There are recordable books, and as cheesy as it sounds, I wish I had him read one for each of us while he was still healthy enough. It’s a small keepsake that would have meant the world.

Thinking of you and your family.

Jen