I live honestly. I try to keep some thoughts private but these are the ones that I hope will help someone to feel that they are not alone, or to have understanding for where I'm coming from.
I cannot believe I have not posted in a year!! What?!
Well, my year has been both wonderful, and difficult, and filled to the brim.
I started college in September 2020. Classes were held in person and we went very quickly from being required to wear masks in common areas but not while seated in class, to all the time. I welcomed the mask at first as I could hide my face and my fear of not belonging while I confidently walked from class to class, fearful of being in the company of 18-year-olds while I was well over that age....
Soon, I found it funny to realize I was returning to school after 23 years since my first year of college. So I would tell people I was in my second year after a gap of 23 years haha.
Learning to be a student again was an extremely steep learning curve for me! I scoffed at a few classes: Do I have to take that? I already know such and such. Like Academic Writing--I was a star in high school English--I even got an A++ (yes two +) on a final grade 13 paper. BUT I was extremely thankful to take that class and relearn how to write, learn MLA and APA references (I think I learned Chicago in Ontario)., and so many other literary necessities like "active voice" over my obvious skill of writing "passive voice." UGH. It was very very humbling (academic papers cannot have "very" haha) as I was continuously disappointed with low grades in that class. In the end, I was able to take what I was learning and apply it and get a pretty high GPA and made the Dean's List for Honours! Phew. As for MLA and APA I refer back to the guide continually and still seem to make mistakes when the paper is handed in. So many papers!!!
Anyway, I survived two semesters, nine academic classes, plus two volunteer class requirements and made it on the Dean's List both semesters. I also chose to take two very difficult Psychology requirements this second-year back to get them out of the way. Those were my worst grades too...My goals, for now, are to try to not care so much about the grades. It is not worth losing sleep over and the results are pretty momentary--yay, I'm smart--and then back to real life because no one wants a braggart around.
I am pursuing a Bachelor in Practical Theology in Counseling and would like to be a youth counsellor in a Christian school, likely private practice as well or maybe something completely unexpected--I am just trying to stay open to what God is leading me to do and I am so thankful for how supportive my husband and children and loved ones have been for me to do this.
A concern to start was definitely financial, but the government has so many Grants available to people in my situation with a family that it has been great timing. At this point, I am heading towards 2024 as my Grad year (same year as Ezekiel's Grade 12 Grad year).
To conclude, I LOVE Grammarly and am so thankful I was introduced to it early in my semester and now it can help with writing emails and blog posts too!
We celebrated our 20th anniversary in an unique way because of the current quarantine/lock down situation. Derek and I went out on some errands and had a special surprise of getting to see his Dad for the first time since he had begun chemo 5 weeks earlier!
Social distanced family photo
Then the kids setup and prepared a beautiful steak dinner for our anniversary.
And Diedre made a beautiful three flavour cake
20 years married is quite an accomplishment in some ways and then a lot of just continuing to do the same things day after day. The usual things of dealing with or ignoring conflict, facing life together as well as living daily as partners and parents. I’m not trying to sound negative, but it’s not all fun times and there have been so many different phases in our twenty years—growing from age 24 and 22 to 44 and 42—literally growing up together.
We took a really fun trip to the Las Vegas Challenge for disc golf in February to celebrate but our actual anniversary fell during a time we had never expected.
We have been home together during the coronavirus and it has been a really good thing for us. We have embraced the slowed down pace of life, co-parented like never before, worked on planning and executing projects around home (he drafted a 4 page list of jobs for himself around home!), still had little dates even if it was just driving to the dump and back together or going grocery shopping for his parents together.
One thing that has been constant for us in our marriage, besides our commitment to serving God in our church community and in our home, is that we love to play—and we love to hang out together. We are definitely each other’s best friends.
I really appreciate his perspective on challenges I have in relationships or just when life is confusing for me. He is definitely my biggest fan and on my team. I’m just remembering when he really wanted me to come back to the climbing gym (when he used to go twice a week, before disc golf life took over)—I felt out of shape and out of place when I went (insecure) and he said “I just think you’re so awesome and I want people to get to know you!” Okay, I’m swooning a little now.
Derek came through for me in such an amazing and supportive way when my father unexpectedly got sick and within ten weeks, passed away. I will forever be grateful for the love he showed me then.
Thank you God, for a faithful friend and husband in Derek. We are both far from perfect, but I can say again, like I did in my wedding vows, that I am confident that God brought us together. Happy 20th anniversary to my Super Buddy, Husband, Best Friend. Ps. He’s got great arms.
That’s what they call them these days. Quarantine Birthday. Covid Birthday. I was hoping for a birthday parade haha, that didn’t happen, but my Family made it special with gifts of food, coffee, presents, decorations. It’s only 42, NBD, but it was weird and special. I actually really like not having pressure to “do a birthday activity” since we’re not allowed to go for hikes or disc golf right now.
One of my favourite celebrations as a Christian was far from cancelled but it certainly looked different. We had church from home like we have been for the last month. Thankfully Jesus never changes and His story of resurrection is powerful and unites believers all over the world.
Our church hosted a really fun drive around town egg hunt using an app called Three Words or something with a chocolate bunny for each child at the end. We hosted our own egg hunt which my adorable husband prepared and itemized below haha
March 2020 unfolded in such a strange and unexpected way.
Our family was still reeling from the cancer diagnosis of our beloved Papa Salmon. Every day we were struggling with our feelings. Derek was living in the cloud of grief I remember being in with my Dad’s diagnosis only months before. The kids didn’t want to go to school because they would cry or just didn’t want anyone to ask them about it/ignore it completely. I was praying to have the strength to be there for Derek and each of my kids, to support them and to support my in-laws. It was very intense. It was triggering my recent feelings of loss for my Dad too. Then our focus started to shift to world news.
There was more and more news everyday about Coronavirus which was also being called Covid-19. My brother and family had plans to fly to New York City for March break and their entire airline (Cathay Pacific) cancelled all flights. They rebooked through another airline but within a week it was becoming clear that travel was getting shutdown around the WORLD.
Heading into the week of Derek’s birthday (March 13), some strange behaviours were showing up on social media. I went to Costco on March 8 and noticed people rushing to the toilet paper and loading up with 3 or 4 of the large 30 packs which I thought was strange. I bought only one large pack like I normally would.
Later that day and the next on social media, there were videos and pictures of people in BC, shopping and running, or rather, racing to the back of the store for toilet paper! There were pictures of empty shelves in grocery stores. With weeks, pasta, rice, toilet paper, hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes were no where to be found!
On March 12, news coming out of Alberta was that schools were getting shut down because of the virus. This got me feeling nervous so I kept the kids home on Derek’s birthday. That was their last day of school before spring break and now—possibly their last day of school for this year!
I do a prayer journal entry most days and my first mention of the virus was on March 14. That day, I wrote, that it had been confirmed in 175,000 people worldwide and would continue to rise in the next month or two.
On March 16, the first Monday of “Spring Break” I was started to get pretty anxious about the numbers. Alberta announced that they were closing schools until September! The next day the BC government announced the same and said all children would pass their grade and be passed on to the next grade fir September. The health campaign is to “flatten the curve” so that the healthcare system doesn’t get overwhelmed, which is what we were seeing happening in Milan Italy. Any gathering over 250 people has been cancelled. NHL, NBA, PGA, disc golf, athletic gyms, swimming pools—ALL SHUTDOWN! It was craziness. Some NBA players got the virus. Starbucks was only allowing drive through now!
I wrote in my journal, that they call it “Social Distancing”. No handshakes or hugs. Stay 1 metre apart. No more congregating. We actually led worship on the last Sunday we met as a church (March 15). I felt so nervous to be there. Less people came. The news was constantly advising people who are sick to stay home and self-isolate. I was trying to figure out what I was so fearful of: running out of food and money was what I could figure out. The kids and I went on a beautiful social-distance hike with my Mom that day. That would be the last time we visited with her in that way for a long time.
Diedre had two days of babysitting scheduled that week and I was so worried for her to go. I didn’t want her to get sick and pass it on to Derek’s parents. By Wednesday, my empathy for the dying (reported to be dying alone because there were so many cases all at once in Italy especially) and their loved ones not getting to be at their side or have a proper funeral, was breaking my heart. I was so down about this. The numbers as of March 18 were 3237 for China with 11 new deaths in 24 hours, and Italy had 475 new deaths to bring the total to 2978.
By Friday, youth group was officially cancelled for the teens. I was not going to let them go anyway so I was relieved.
By March 21, all non-essential stores were closed. Only grocery stores, pharmacies, take-out only for restaurants and cafes. Derek was working extra long days and I was feeling worn out from the anxiety and being home with the kids alone—even though they are pretty easy and just content to hang out at home. I was trying to surrender my stress to the Lord. I realized that in my normal life, I have anxiety that I’d learned to manage—throw in a cancer diagnosis and a worldwide pandemic and apparently it was too much for me. BC numbers were released and there had been 10 deaths in BC and 19 across Canada from the virus.
Monday, March 23 brought the closing of all playgrounds, basketball courts and sports fields. No more disc golf (we had gone almost every day the first week of Spring Break.
Anything where people would gather in groups. They lowered the number to 50 people or less and then down to 10 or less, and then to 5 (so people with big families were making lots of jokes about that one). That was also the first day of Chemo for Papa. We were told that he could no longer have any visitors. That was very sad news.
My prayer was to God to “please cover each Christian with Your light of the Holy Spirit, like little flames walking among people at the hospitals across the world, and caring for the dying, and please draw people to Your Kingdom—TODAY is The Day of salvation. And for us believers, please increase our faith—help us to trust wholly in You and not be tricked by the devil to focus on other things—please help me to lead my children to face this, face You, and let You give them comfort, strength, and joy.
John 11:40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”
The baby that made us parents for the first time turned 15 on February 26. Diedre is a sweet daughter, a loyal friend, a voice of reason with an obvious gift of godly wisdom, a counsellor to her friends, she is gentle and serves others in childrens ministry, singing, and is a joy to be around. She loves athletics (basketball, track, fitness) and is a positive teammate. I love spending time with her and she is a friend to me. I pray that she will continue to seek God’s will for her life and allow Him to work in her and lead her in the path He has planned for her.
Ezekiel had the idea to buy her a ukulele and wanted to pay for half of it. She was so excited to open it! He planned such a sweet and thoughtful surprise for her.
This grade 9 year has been a year of growing up with her first loss of a grandparent, adjusting to a new school and social groups, losing some friends and having her eyes opened to some pretty serious problems among her classmates.
As a family we always do a birthday activity of the child’s choice but this time we tried to make her birthday special and I had planned a concert for our whole family to go to on February 27 (but Derek was still sick from Vegas—hopefully Coronavirus—and didn’t feel up to it so we took a friend).
The concert was full of many musicians that we all liked. Some of Diedre’s favourites and really someone for everyone. It was a crazy long concert—like 4 hours or more!! So many families from school were there too. Toby Mac, Jordan Feliz, Aaron Cole, We are Messengers, Tauren Wells and more! It was crazy. Unfortunately Ezekiel got a crazy headache (not a good combo for a super loud concert) and kept having to leave the arena. I had earplugs in which were super helpful and so I finally gave them to him but he was too far gone. It was so loud! Anyway, if we do that again, I’ll make sure to stock up on earplugs for everyone. The birthday girl seemed to like it a lot
Sometime last year, I suggested to Derek that we should go to the Las Vegas Challenge Disc Golf tournament to celebrate our upcoming 20 year Wedding Anniversary (April 24). So we saved up and found some local friends that were also planning to go. We booked two nights at The Flamingo and would stay five nights with friends for free (sharing costs of Uber to the tournament each day).
I was excited to get direct flights from Abbotsford for a decent price! We flew out on February 16. The Flamingo room was upgraded for about $30 and it was HUGE! A long wall of windows with a view of the strip and the Bellagio fountains. We’d call the kids in FaceTime and show them the fountain show. Loved that!
The weather was perfect but I suffered from crazy altitude headaches for four days straight and took steady doses of Advil. While we were there we started hearing more about Coronavirus that was coming out of Wuhan China. I was getting a little worried being in such a hub of international travellers. At one point Derek was coughing so hard and throughout the night. We both hope we had a mild case of the virus. They did ask us while travelling if we’d been to China.
The disc golf tournament went great! Not that we played especially well in our categories, but the event was super fun, the Las Vegas disc golf club were super helpful hosts, the weather was amazing, and the company of our local friends down there was so great! It was a fun time being together to celebrate our 20 years of adventuring and our marriage. We didn’t really do much Vegas-y type stuff other than a 24 hour buffet (except for celebrating Robin’s birthday on Fremont Street). We were able to buy the buffet passes in time that we got 5 meals for it! We enjoyed a lovely view of real flamingos while we dined, we got lost a few times and ended up having our final meal at a lovely French cuisine buffet. Seriously so good!
Life had been pretty tough after the loss of my Dad. It was so good to get away. Our poor kids were still dealing with the strangeness of losing a Grandparent when we got the news in February that Derek’s Dad was also diagnosed with cancer. We got the confirmation of it while we were away. Derek and I decided we would keep the kids home on the day after we returned from Vegas so we could hang out and share this sad news.
Our eldest daughter was just about to turn 15 so we were trying to choose the best possible time to let the kids in on this news—we knew we wanted to wait til we got back so we could comfort them since we knew it would hit them hard.
My parents separated and began new lives very far apart geographically. Christmas with both of them was not a memory I had growing up.
I didn’t celebrate Christmas with my Dad until I was 12 because all of our visits were in the spring or summer. My mother flew from Toronto to Vancouver with my brother and I for our first Christmas together with our Dad and his new wife (of four years) and her two teenage daughters. My mom stayed with her sister nearby.
It was a magical Christmas. My Dad and step mom, Diane had designed, built and decorated a beautiful home. Diane would set aside time with me to teach me how to bake Christmas treats: quick and easy squares, lemon coconut squares, and other easy to assemble treats. My brother always went off to work on projects with my Dad in the shop. It was a lovely visit and I loved getting to know my new step sisters who had careers already and were so cool and accomplished.
We attended several parties, some with friends of my Dad, some with family and my cousins. I was delighted to open a beautiful party dress and an adorable bunny. Twelve is a special age of walking the line of childhood and becoming a young woman. That Christmas filled my heart in so many ways.
When I moved to BC in my early adulthood, I got to spend a few Christmases with my Dad and Diane. It was fun to travel to the different places they lived and spend time together. I don't remember that much about the visits but I guess thats how young adults are, just enjoying what they enjoy--going snowboarding, hanging out together, eating together.
Once the babies started arriving in our young married lives, Poppa and Diane would take the trek over from the Island to come for Christmas dinner. Sometimes those visits were postponed because of the snow, but often they were there. I was always happy to see my Dad cuddling one of my new babies. Sometimes I felt like I was putting the child in his arms against his will, but thinking back, I can see now that joy in his face and his willingness to cuddle a grandbaby. I think I was often insecure about how he was receiving me or my kids because we didn't know each other that well, really.
Heading into Christmas this year, I definitely felt the weight of sorrow and was not anticipating some things like I normally would. Decorating and Christmas tree hunting was significantly subdued for me and quite delayed. We had a wonderful visit at my Mom's with my brother's family. I felt so in the moment and just loved being together after all the sadness of the fall.
Christmas Day we would go visit at my Brother's, and I was really missing my Dad. That's where he would always be. On the sofa, visiting whoever was nearby. I cherish the pictures of him from those yearly dinners, cuddling a baby or watching grandkids gather around. I know now the joy that our family brought to him. I'm so thankful we had a few years of living near to one another so we could get closer in our relationship. He really loved me and my family and made the effort to come to family gatherings all year round.
This is the first time my Brother and I have had to plan a Memorial. My Brother really wanted to get away for two days with me so that we could focus on the details and our Eulogies. I thought we might work together on one Eulogy and take turns saying our part, but it developed into two separate pieces which we proofread for one another.
We went away to a hotel and talked through our ideas, had a few meals together, wrote out some thoughts and planned out the service and the memorial handout. It was the most time we had spent together in years. It was a special time, a difficult time, a productive time and I'm thankful for that. This trip happened on Thursday/Friday, one week after our Father passed away.
When I returned home, my mind was unsettled on what I had written and what the point of the message would be. I had so much doubt about what had just flowed out of me, sharing memories, sharing how my Dad made me feel and our special relationship. I took the next week off of work as we finalized the details. My daughter and niece and sister in law and I took a shopping trip to gather supplies for a floral arrangement. I wanted the girls to feel a part of things and put some of their touch into the Memorial for their Grandpa. We also had a day planned for all the grandkids to put together photos of Poppa on poster boards.
I had a strong sense of getting to know my Dad in new ways after he passed away, because of the stories I heard about him. I learned about friends that he was close to who really loved him, that I had not known about. Places he had lived or traveled to. I learned that he taught fishing to several people who really appreciated it. He was a skilled craftsman, hunter, fisherman. It felt very sad to think that I had missed out knowing these things about him. One thing I knew was that he would take the time to research a topic that interested my husband or my brother as a way of connecting with them. It made me wonder what he had tried to connect with me on...but it also reassured me that we had a living, growing relationship and we were dear to one another. He was a loving Father to me. He was what I needed. Eventually, I worked out what I wanted to say and it turned into this:
Psalm 40:5 says
5 Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works Which You have done;
And Your thoughts toward us Cannot be recounted to You in order;If I would declare and speak of them,They are more than can be numbered.
I wanted to start with this verse because I can clearly see God’s hand in Poppa’s life. Our family heritage--moving forward in Christ and building a generation that will love and serve Him. God takes the surprising examples and does great things through them, or us.
Poppa would mention from time to time how when I was very little, i would be so excited to see him, I would wrap my tiny arms around his neck and squeeze him so hard in a hug.
That is a good description of my relationship with him. I loved him so much, I was always excited to see him, and I was a big hugger.
Growing up in Ontario, we would get a call once a month, on Sunday at 6pm. I was always so excited to get those calls. Any chance of connecting with my Dad was so special to me. My whole life he’d always end our calls with “Bye bye for now.”
We would travel at the beginning of summer to Toronto and fly to Vancouver as Unaccompanied minors. Those flights were so exciting for me and I felt so special getting to travel to BC to see my Dad. Andrew shared the details of how Poppa made a cushioned seat for me to sit in his truck. That project really touched my young heart, knowing he had prepared for my arrival and caring for my safety.
It was a fun adventure to spend time with him and be a part of his daily life for those two months. I realize now, how much effort he put into preparing for our time together. He had many outings planned to make each summer a great experience. We went to the air show with his brothers families for several years. He took us to the whale park often, we got to try wind surfing, or shoot rockets in a field, and spend time with our cousins on our Mom and Dad’s sides which was always a highlight for me.
One summer he had bikes ready for us and these cute biker hats. We would go on bike rides together all the time. That particular summer, living on 2nd Avenue were some amazing memories. I was twelve, and would just bike around to the park or with my cousins or neighbors. It was so special having my own room, in this brand new beautiful home, and how Diane had prepared it for my summer stay. Being that age, and living in that beautiful home, where we also spent our only Christmas together (later that same year) with him, was so special. He taught me some woodworking basics in his shop.
He was a skilled woodworker. He built some beautiful homes and creative furniture pieces that I have in my home today. My family sits around the table he built as a Christmas gift for Andrew and I when we were roommates back when I was 19.
Part of the story that God wove as a provision for our upbringing and an area of consistency were Brethren assemblies. When we moved to Ontario, my Mother was a new Christian, having been introduced to the faith through our stepfather Richard. Our church for the next 15 years was a Brethren chapel in North Bay, Ontario.
Meanwhile, back in BC, Poppa was dealing with the loss of his kids and was seeking the Lord. Poppa told me that he got saved at Christian Life Assembly in Langley in 1982 and He told me they said: you don't want to hang out with a bunch of old fogies, go find a Bible study in White Rock with people your own age--and so he looked up Hilltop Gospel Chapel and started attending there.
In the summers when we would come visit we attended the same type of Brethren assembly. I have recognized the gift from God this was in my life, learning solid Bible teaching and a love for God’s word and having consistency in Ontario and in BC!
Poppa was funny. He smiled a lot, joked around and had so many stories to tell. Since humor was a way we had communicated our entire relationship, I would force myself to tell him funny anecdotes, even in these final 10 weeks. He introduced me to a very silly song called Don’t Bury Me when we were talking about end of life plans. And even the day before he went to be with the Lord he chuckled at my joke.
He was also very serious when it came to his faith and he put a lot of time and effort into studying the scriptures. He was told that he could explain the scriptures in a very clear way, and earlier this year he gave his testimony at this assembly and was told by many how much it touched people. I tried a few times to get him to tell me his testimony so I could record it but he always said “not today. I’d need to be feeling better first.” Or “id need to be in a better mood.” Throughout his many moves around BC: Parker Street, 14A Avenue, 2nd Avenue, WIllowbrook near Oliver, Rock Creek, Kelowna, Courtney, back to Chilliwack and then White Rock, Poppa attended various Bible studies and chapels.
Poppa was intentional about witnessing or sharing his faith. When he lived on 14A Avenue, he had a neighbour with lots of little daughters. The girls would come and knock on his door and just walk in and sit at the table for some food whenever they felt like it. Poppa struck up a friendship with their Mom and was instrumental in her accepting Jesus and going on to raise her daughters in the faith.
As a grandpa, Poppa had great joy from the grandkids presence and was delighted to see that they, like his children, were choosing to follow the Lord. Poppa made a point to come out to meet each new baby that joined our family. I love looking at the pictures of him cuddling the babies and looking them in the face. He came to many of the birthday celebrations for the grandkids (especially if it coordinated with good fishing in the area and he’d stay over for a few days). I loved going on little outings with him and my kids. One thing we did for several years in a row was going to have a fruit waffle from Krause Berry Farm for Father’s Day. Often it was with Bennett, since he had less days at school. Poppa loved our waffle outings. Another enjoyable meetup we would have was to go for ice cream at Birchwood Dairy in Abbotsford, or Purdy’s Chocolates in the mall (which has the best prices). Ice cream was definitely a connection between all of us with Poppa.
Also, funny story about honoring him as a Grandfather: I always thought his Danish heritage was cool and when it came time to welcome our fourth and final child, we decided we would honor the Dads that raised me by giving Bennett Paul’s middle name of Antony—no H—and My stepdad Richard’s middle name Henri (because he’s French Canadian)—so Bennett Antony Henri was named. Fast forward a year and my Dad says “so I had to get my birth certificate reprinted and it turns out that my middle name is actually AnTHony—with an H.” Literally his entire life his Mother told him his name was AnTony—which I thought was because it’s Danish.
The pain of the past and the struggles Poppa had, led him to some very low months or years, where he struggled with mental health challenges and would stop attending church. I could never accept that that was really him, and using my God-given gift of encouragement and exhortation, I could not just leave him in that state.
Romans 15:13
13 Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
I challenged him and would check in on him and pray for him. I’m so thankful that he had returned to fellowship, and Bible study and discussions and that he had a spiritual mind these last few years to face the coming trial. He was a spiritual leader to us in how he took the news, accepted it without denial and had peace. Right from the beginning of his diagnosis, he texted me about how he had a rough night physically and it was hard to take but that he was “sooooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!!”
My prayer for him this last month, knowing that his health was declining, was that Poppa would finish well, that he would have a spiritual mind and connecting with God. I want to close with a verse that I saw lived out by my Dad in his last weeks:
Romans 8:6
For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace.
Its hard for us to comprehend that dying would give someone life and peace but it really did. His great gift to us at the end, was peace, comfort, that he was okay to go and that we could let him go. I love you Poppa, Bye bye for now.
~~~~~
The table is an example of the skilled woodworking he made. His cowboy hat and bolo ties. His favourite property that he loved in Rock Creek area. The floral arrangements the girls and I worked on.
When October 2019 hit, my Father's health was in obvious decline. He had palliative nurse-at-home visits and I was able to attend most of them. The nurses were very compassionate, they encouraged him to partake in comfort measures for the time being and to take the steroid that had been prescribed (that Poppa was uncomfortable committing to). They also asked for him to take this heavy duty pain med (although he had not complained of pain really for the last month--which we accepted as a miracle considering his cancer location). He clearly told them he did not want to take it because it was too strong and he was sensitive to medications and that particular one had caused violent dreams and essentially throwing himself out of bed into the wall.
The nurses planned to see him on Monday and then check in or come visit him also on Friday. It irritated both of us that they would repeat the same questions from the previous visit, as if they hadn't read the file notes. Anyway, he repeated that he did not want the pain med again but by this time he had tried the steroid for several days and had enjoyed feeling a bit more peppy and was making some plans to take a ferry ride with all of us. He was slightly perked up and happily eating for about 3 days. But then, by Friday's meeting with the nurse, he was very tired, almost dozing off during the meeting. He went right to bed and I went out to buy myself some of the best fish and chips in White Rock, and he requested gravy with fries. When I returned to his condo, he was completely asleep so i didn't know what to do--wake him and he'd be upset to be woken, or save the food in the oven and it might be too cold to enjoy when he woke. I decided to wait. He woke up when I only had about ten minutes before I needed to leave to go get kids from school. He was disappointed the food was not hot, but ate a piece of fish and seemed to enjoy it. That was his last time eating solid food. The weekend resulted in more decline. He barely ate, other than some delicious soup from my sister in law. He was preparing to wean himself off of the steroid because of a misunderstanding.
Monday October 7th was another visit from a nurse and she did not rebook. I found that odd to just leave him as is so I called and requested that they would now come daily to see him as he seemed weaker and weaker and wasn't having any appetite. He was not taking his pills and was very tired.
On Tuesday, October 8th my four kids and husband all came out to see my Dad. I told them this might be the last time. He smiled so big having them there. He was happy to hold their hands and get a hug. We watched a gold mining tv show together during our visit. Heres a nice pic from healthier times:
I was scheduled to work on Thursday October 10th but was really torn. It was a beautiful sunny day and I just wanted to be with my Dad and take him out in the sun. I didn't know there were any issues specifically, but just that the nurse had helped him fill out forms for Hospice the day before. I mentioned to my supervisor that things were going pretty downhill for my Dad and she said "Are you sure you should be here? You don't have to be. If you need to go, just tell me." I felt sick to my stomach for the next hour and just kept thinking over and over "No, I don't want to be here. If I don't have to be, I should probably leave. I want to be with my Dad."
I worked for one hour and then left. I called my brother and found out that they were told by the nurse who came to see him that day to take him to Hospice now. I didn't quite know what to do or where to go because I live one hour from my Dad's home and one hour from the Hospice. I went home and rested for a bit waiting to hear what to do from my brother. Finally, I decided to head to my Dad's home. I arrived just after the ambulance had arrived. Met up with my Brother and step Sister and step Mom. Got the low down. My brother and I headed to Hospice together to help settle Poppa in while he took the ambulance.
My Dad could still get up and stand. He was communicating. We joked a little together. My brother and I left when we felt that we had done all we could to get him settled. We had no idea how long he would stay at Hospice and kept getting answers like "it could be 3 hours, it could be weeks, likely not months. The average stay is 19 days in BC Hospices."
Poppa said goodbye, gave us hugs and smiled as we left him. So we went home, not knowing what the next days would hold.
Early on October 11th, our step Mother's birthday, she got a call to come in because my Father's breathing had changed. I waited a few moments and then decided that my kids and husband and I would all go and plan to spend the day at Hospice, to be with my Dad and my brother's family.
We ate a good breakfast, got coffee, and headed there with snacks and drinks. Each child brought a book or two because we figured it would be a quiet place to spend the day. The hospice was beautiful and inviting and had lounge areas and a huge outdoor courtyard. Upon arriving, my Dad, no longer speaking, made an audible expression that he knew I was there now.
We held his hand. Each child spoke to him and gave him a hugs. We spent some time singing Hymns that my step Mom would request. It was a good family time. My husband and kids were amazing that day, kind and cooperative and very supportive.
Around 3pm, I felt really restless. I just wanted to leave and have a break from being around all of this. I prayed and asked God to help me with a decision because I felt like I was being rebellious or selfish in the moment. I decided that I should stay the night. The previous night, i left thinking that he was so close to death, and if it were to happen, I was ready for that. Today, my heart softened to a place of caring for him. I wanted to provide any comfort or support he might need. I took Derek aside and said I needed to talk about something. Derek said, "I've been thinking: what if when someone is dying, and alone they feel sad or lonely; and what if when someone is not alone, they feel comforted or loved in those last moments. I think you should stay with him." So we were on the same page and I decided to stay.
My step Mom left to go home around this time and my Brother stayed til around 5pm. Our family stayed until 6pm and when the kids each said goodbye and announced that they were going home, he changed his breathing to where it almost sounded like crying. And then I was alone with my Dad.
Sometimes he would reach up his arms and so I'd talk to him and hold his hand and settle his arm back down. My brother and sister in law returned to visit around 7pm. We chatted together and stopped for silence whenever his breathing would have a long break.
I had a private moment with my Dad moments before he took his last breath, and it was very special and I'm glad I decided to be with him til the end. He passed away at 8:45pm on his dear wife's birthday, on October 11 2019. I was so grateful to Jesus that this struggle was over for him. Peace.
Gone to be with His Lord and Savior on Friday, October 11, 2019 at age 73. Paul was born in Saint John, New Brunswick on August 7, 1946. He was the third of five boys. When Paul was 16 the family moved from New Brunswick to White Rock, BC.
Paul was an intelligent pursuer of skills and knowledge and could discuss any topic at length! Many appreciated that he always had a unique and thoughtful perspective to share.
He loved his time as a logger in the Queen Charlottes and had many stories from that time. He was a very skilled craftsman who took his love of logging to the art of fine woodworking, where he created many practical and creative pieces for his home and clients. He enjoyed renovating houses, and later in life with his wife Diane was able to build many wonderful homes throughout BC.
As an outdoorsman, he loved hunting, fishing, and horses, and enjoyed sharing these hobbies with others. He would always tune into the Calgary Stampede or attend the Cloverdale Rodeo. He had an extensive knowledge of Rodeo and enjoyed following the careers of many of the key players.
Paul was very friendly and outgoing and could find something in common with everyone. After committing his life to the Lord in 1982, he enjoyed fellowship at various Brethren assemblies throughout BC. He was a gifted Bible teacher and we wish we could have heard more from him before his quick decline in health. He found great comfort knowing that his children and grandchildren have chosen to follow the Lord and serve in their home churches. Paul was peaceful and confident in the end, knowing the Hope of his salvation and recognized that he would soon be with the Lord.
Life is slowly slowing down The end is coming I see that you’re ready It’s as if you’ve been given permission It’s time to go—God is waiting for you All my life My Father, My Hero I didn’t know all you were Til I was older I am so thankful for your great love You have given me what I needed I am so thankful to God, For how He weaves the story We all became His children That’s a miracle in itself Thank You, God, for giving me my Father All my life My Father, My Hero I didn’t know all you were Til I was older I am so thankful for your great love You have given me what I needed God redeems, that’s just what He does When we recognize it’s Him What a blessing we receive Thank You, God, for caring for me For giving me a loving Father
-----------
I wrote this on September 27 2019 the day after Poppa got the news from his oncologist that he likely only had 4-6 months. On August 1st 2019 he was terribly jaundiced and had been ill with gastro issues for weeks. He had been away on a fishing trip in July but got so weak that he had to pack up his camp and take the ferry back home. He woke up so ill on August 1st, they called my brother at 7am to take him into emergency. My family and I were on our way down to Portland for our only big family trip of the summer. I was getting text messages all morning and was trying to decide if we needed to return or could continue on with our plans. Finally, hours later, they got the scan results back that he did have a tumor that appeared to be putting pressure on his bile duct, blocking it and causing the jaundice. The were quite certain the tumor was located on his pancreas, and mentioned 99% sure it was cancer, but said confirmation would come at a later date. Poppa took the news as cancer. He texted me the results and said "Soooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!"
We did continue on with our weekend plans in Portland and I would check in on him every day, morning or evening. On Saturday, the day of my tournament, everything went late, I was outside of cell range, when I finally went into cell range, my phone went off with a flurry of notifications. I was so scared as I pulled over to check my messages. There were messages from my family about my Dad but more shockingly, was from my step sister who suddenly had lost her own Mother in law. She was getting a planned surgery, things went well. After a short time she had some complications and had further surgery which had such disappointing results and an incredibly sad conclusion to what was a day filled with hope. We took some time to contact my step sister and husband, two dear people and grieve together. Such an unexpected and awful shock to us all.
My Dad, in terrible pain, waited through the weekend for news of his next steps. He got the stent surgery on his 73rd birthday the next week, on August 7th. We were able to have a good visit and prayer time with myself and my children the day before. He was worried to go into surgery, especially after what happened to sweet Barb. He heading into surgery with the calm assurance of his faith in Jesus. The stent surgery went very well and they were able to scrape the tumor to get a sample for testing. Very quickly we got the results that it was indeed pancreatic cancer. We then waited for over a week for a call for his surgery date to get whipple surgery. When the week came and went, we finally got the name of a surgeon sorted out (there was a real problem with keeping all the doctors sorted). Upon contacting the surgeon, we were informed that there was no intention of a surgery date, first there would be a meeting to discuss options--so that meeting got scheduled. Every day felt critical at this point. When we finally got to see the surgeon, I recorded the meeting and asked the questions that the family had discussed for me to ask. We had brought him into the meeting in a wheelchair because he had been very tired and we wanted to preserve his energy. Apparently that was a mistake because the surgeon was disappointed to see he was feeling weak. We found out that day that he needed to get stronger and come back when he was walking more than sitting around in any given day. They said if he could gain a bit of weight and be walking around like normal, they could proceed with surgery. The surgeon said he had been relatively healthy a short time ago (maybe about 5 weeks before) and was hopeful that he could get back to that level. This was August 26.
Next we got to go to see an oncologist. My brother took him to that appointment on September 11. I wanted to go so badly but Poppa did not want too many people at the meeting and was adamant that he only wanted Andrew to take him. I could tell how much he appreciated the time and attention with Andrew. I had to work anyway, so I worked, distracted, because I wanted to be with my Dad. Anyway, the appointment was recorded, and they got good news that at this point, the goal was to get Poppa eating and getting stronger--diabetic diet was no longer necessary and he could just enjoy what he wanted to eat and gain some weight.The bad news, which Poppa had been suspicious of, was that if he was too weak for surgery, he would be too weak for chemo as well. He also seemed to be one step ahead of the bad news. Anyway, he was focused on the good news for now and went forward with every intention of getting stronger and ready to put in a good effort.
I, of course, was so distracted the next day by the news that I locked my keys in my truck while at Starbucks before work, with all my work stuff and proper shoes in there, and had a heck of a morning and was late to work by 40 minutes while I dealt with BCAA. The cafe is literally 2 minutes from my work so I just felt like an idiot.
Poppa ate delicious, rich foods for a few days and then got crippling pain in both feet and ankles which he thought was gout. He could barely walk. So the plan to go for a decent walk every day got put on hold, his jaundiced was cleared but he had ongoing bouts or harassing levels of nausea. Andrew worked so hard to find him foods that would calm his tummy troubles and help him gain weight. He was working off information that I couldn't verify online, that red meat or pork caused jaundice so even though he did not want to eat chicken, he felt he had to over what he really wanted to eat. Food became such a focus for us trying to support him. He went to see his family doctor about the gout and she recommended he go back on the diabetic diet. We were so frustrated since he was told to eat whatever tasted good to him--he was so disappointed to be put back on the diabetic diet. That didn't last too much longer.
He had a meeting with the oncologist again on September 26 so we got him back on the "eat anything" program. Unfortunately, by then, he had lost an additional 10 lbs since the last appointment, and the doc was concerned. I was at this appointment, with the job of asking some questions, and record. We asked about his nausea, wondering if it was caused by other medications he was taking, and was told, that the nausea was for sure caused by the cancer and where it was located. He also refused my request of doing another scan so we could know if it was growing because he kept saying "we know its growing" but i wanted to know, how do we know without seeing. He said it wouldn't help and we didn't need to know specifics because of the symptoms. I asked the hard questions of, where is this going, etc. The doc suggested 4-6 months. Poppa felt sure that he would not make it til Christmas. He revealed that he had been in pain (where previously, he had pretty low pain). They worked on a plan for comfort measures and prescribed a steroid to take daily to help perk him up so he could get walking and enjoy some outings. The steroid is intended for use for 3 months and then it has some pretty awful side effects, so this made me suspicious that the doc didn't actually think he would survive beyond 3 months. Poppa had lost 60 lbs since July at this point. Things were getting pretty real.
Sometime, during those weeks, I was asked to discuss end of life plans with him, and it was super awkward but he made it funny and introduced me to the song that came to mind for him, called Don't Bury Me, by John Prine. He looked it up on his iphone and we listened together to this very silly song that was "so him".
My life has been running away from me. My four children are currently in two different schools and although I realize this is very normal for many families. I am apparently a big baby and am barely holding my life together these days. It's also an hour round trip of driving each morning and afternoon.
My oldest has an incredibly busy schedule with school sports and for some reason I am compelled to attend every game in its entirety. I just completely love watching her team grow and learn how to play together. I am blown away seeing their composure as they play volleyball and might have a bad hit or pass but immediately get ready for the next pass and not getting flustered. I remember volleyball as being the cause for a lot of self deprecating comments haha. I did play on my college team which is kind of hilarious since I was b.a.d. other than having a very consistent serve. Underhand. This grade 8 girls team that I have spent watching over the last two months are amazing--mostly doing killer overhand serves. And the excitement to watch them grows as they've continued to be undefeated all season (except for a silver at one fun tournament).
What I have observed in my life and that of my overscheduled child is how difficult it is to remember God in the moments of busyness. We had a very easy pace last school year. And what I had considered to be busy, is laughable now. We had such a chill summer. We love being home. Now it feels like we are barely home. It was easy for me to spend time studying God's word, going to my beloved Wednesday Bible study, Tuesday morning prayer at school and Friday morning chapel. That was my spiritual routine. All of those things have been cut out of my regular routine.
I have been pondering if that year of ease was preparation for what God had instore for us this year. How do I support my family in fulfilling God's call on their life now? We pray together before school. I encourage them to shine God's light, to be a blessing to those around them, to have good attitudes and good character. We are in the fire now. New schools. New relationships. Can we stand out or stand up for what we believe? I sure hope so.
I have been so encouraged by the coach. How she remembers to pray after each game with the girls. Her way of calling them out to be good examples when we stayed in Victoria by keeping clean rooms and being respectful of the hotel. Coaching can be really hard at times but she is so calm.
I really enjoy coaching and know that last year I would get so competitive that I would forget to pray with the team or that it would feel awkward because it wasn't a proper habit but randomly done. This year I am trying to learn and have been observing quality coaching and hoping to apply that when I get the chance.
I'm trying to soak up all the lessons God has for me in this busy season and figure out how I can minimize my commitments while still doing what I'm passionate and hopefully good at! I hope that all my children will attend the same school so I can cut my driving in half but until then, just trying to learn what God wants for me in this.
I've recently been going through some counselling and learning about Values Mapping. Its pretty fascinating to think that I have some innate values that cannot be changed and were not likely taught to me, but were a part of who I was in the beginning...
It takes some time and some discussion to figure out which values pop out and often its when we get offended that we can identify which value is being challenged or upset.
I have a value for being authentic, which is why "fake" people or passive aggressive people really trigger my authentic value.
I am seeing myself as a bit of a puzzle and trying to get myself put back together...if I ever was totally together!
The annoying thing about counselling is that its like stirring a puddle, and all the mud in the bottom gets disturbed and starts clouding the water. I'm definitely in the cloudy puddle phase right now.
I have struggled with wanting to lose weight for years. I've started and stopped many different approaches to improving my health. I was working hard at working out and was proud to say I worked out 5 days a week for 30 minutes. Then I got a bunch of tests done to try to figure out why I was so tired, and why I cannot seem to actually lose any weight--my cardio was good, but my weight remained high, too high for my comfort. The doctor informed me that all my results came back normal (thyroid function, cortisol, diabetes, etc) EXCEPT that I had elevated levels of bad cholesterol--meaning I don't exercise enough. WHAT?!! I was doing my 30 minutes a day! Thats the recommended amount! Obviously, I was only maintaining, but still, I was trying! And, knife in the wound, if you lose weight, your cholesterol levels should improve. Thanks :S
I started to cry. I really wanted a "reason" for why my weight wasn't just falling off. I didn't have one. So, to me, that meant, I'm clinically depressed. Thats why I'm so tired. Thats why I can't stick to a plan. So I asked for antidepressants. I rushed home and filled my prescription and started that day. I felt terrible. I felt nauseous and foggy headed. I didn't feel well to be driving. I couldn't sleep. I had long long periods of awakeness and then feeling terrible again the next morning because I couldn't sleep. I had to limit what I would do with my kids because I would lose my temper from being so fatigued. I only took the pills for 4 days. Thats all.
I talked with some loved ones and asked if it made more sense to wait since the kids had just gone back to full time school (after summer break) and my youngest was even going to be in Preschool two afternoons a week--giving me a break. I decided that I had jumped the gun and that having all the kids in school would likely help me to experience some actual rest and refreshment and maybe even get to a place of energy again. I also realized that the thing that was depressing me the most was my scale.
When I look in the mirror, I think I look pretty cute. I have a cute body. Its got some curves and of course, some flaws, but its not crazy-out-of-control. I like it. Then I would step on the scale, see the numbers close or at 200 and then say "You're so fat! How could you let yourself get here?! Whats your problem? Why can't you lose weight?" And I would immediately feel terrible about my cute body. Its obviously not cute if it weighs 200 pounds.
So, after some good soul searching, I decided that I have disordered thinking when it comes to food and weight loss. I get anxiety or panicky when thinking about eating--afraid to eat--feeling like this whole weight loss thing is a trick. I've been on programs where you eat what seems like way too much, but you lose, so trying to just eat what feels right, seems like it could never work. Then people will say, don't do too much cardio, lift heavy weights, but then my heart and stroke foundation info, says to make sure cardio is a regular part of my week so I don't die young. So much to balance, but yet conflicting. I finally had to just give it all up. I also got to add anxiety over my elevated cholesterol--thinking no more fried foods or butter (I've been anti-margarine for a few years now) and was literally walking around thinking "I'm going to die. This is going to kill me any day now." I'm only 37.
So, I shared this with a group of ladies at a Bible Study and said I was going to not look at my scale for one month, maybe two and just see how things go. One of the women asked me to give her my scale. I thought that was unnecessary but then decided to just do it, because she is trying to be there for me, so why not let her (since I am trying to establish relationships in a new church).
So I did. I gave over my scale. Thursday October 22 (although I stopped using it earlier that week). I released myself from the judgment and pressure of stepping on the scale. Its a bit of a miracle for me. I was OBSESSING about my weight, about my eating, about my exercise--I am not obsessing anymore. I am exercising. I am resting when my body is sore. I am eating healthy foods and treats. I'm going for walks when I feel like it, or the weather is nice. I'm going rock climbing again. I am not punishing myself with food choices or exercising to exhaustion. I am FREE.
I love my body. I think its cute. I still hope to get smaller, and fit into my clothes better, and be lighter for climbing, but for now, its so entirely attractive to be FREE. Whatever peace I can have in my mind, and lower levels of anxiety--I am all for that!
