What matters
Thursday, August 23, 2012 
As I write this, someone in my family is dying. I told myself I'd keep this out of my blog, away from here. Because here is where I do my best to create an upbeat, positive spot for folks to visit. This isn't upbeat, positive.
Mostly, though, I wasn't going to write about this because it's her story, not mine.
But my story is that I'm struggling with this, need to write about this. This person I love, dying as I write.
I wonder what to make for dinner as she wonders if the breath she's taking may be her last. I pack for a trip, try to catch up on things that matter for my future, when she doesn't have one.
That sucks. So much.
That's my biggest thought, that's my biggest struggle.
My struggle, though, is nothing compared to her struggle. Or the struggle of her kids, saying goodbye to their mother. Or the struggle of her husband, who's trying to come to terms with his wife being told she has only seven more days to live.
And that was several days ago.
I love this woman like a sister, can't imagine our family without her. But we're not close. Unfortunately. She married into the family I married into nearly a decade before her. Though we've been part of that same family for years, miles kept us apart, distant. Thirteen hours worth of distance by car, I keep thinking, as Jim and I contemplate the logistics of attending a funeral.
She and I would send cards and photos at Christmas. Occasionally "like" something of the other on Facebook. Consider the good, the bad, the ugly, the sad of this family we both married into. For nearly twenty years we've done all that together yet seperately, from our own homes while attending to our own families.
She's only a few years older than I am. Her two kids are a few years younger than mine.
Her two kids who are now married.
Her two kids who have not yet had kids of their own.
She never got to be a grandma.
And that makes me so very sad. For her. For her kids. For her grandkids who will never know her.
And so very sad for her husband. My heartbroken brother in law. Her biggest fan, her greatest admirer. The one at her bedside—a hospital bed now set up in their home—watching this strong woman who changed his life die, decades upon decades before she should.
Not that anyone should die young, but this pillar of a person especially shouldn't. She's the best of the best. One who does what needs to be done. Cares for those who need to be cared for. Loves without limits. Makes the plans no one else feels like planning. She remembers and does and is. In all the right ways, at all the right times. Effortlessly.
She would have made one helluva grandma.
And that makes me so very sad.
Cancer doesn't care though. Doesn't care who's young, old, grandma or not. Doesn't care who it makes so very sad.
The last few days, I think of what she's doing as I'm doing what I'm doing. None of it makes sense. None of what I'm doing seems to matter at all, when what she's doing matters so much.
What she's doing just plain sucks.
So very, very much.
Reader Comments (26)
An eloquently written post on such a sad subject. I'm glad you posted it. Makes me want to reach out to some of my family members I just keep in light touch with. My sympathy to your family.
I am so very sorry to hear this. I do know what you are going through as our sister-in-law passed away last winter. I would be walking on the beach and think about her unable to get out of bed. It does suck.
Friends are for comfort and you are among friends here. Write on, Lisa. Wish I could give you a hug in person.
I hope this special woman has a peaceful passing filled with love. My heart goes out to you, her entire family, and her circle of friends. My belief is that she will indeed meet and watch her Grandchildren grow up, with a front row seat.
We've gone through many tragic losses over the past 20 years. My dear friend killed in a car accident 6 months pregnant with her first baby. A child that we adored struck by a single bolt of lightning from nowhere. Like you, a sister-in-law who courageously fought a battle with cancer and lost. Sadly, I could share much more.
I feel my family owes a debt of gratitude to the loved ones we've lost, for the tremendous joy they brought us while here and for the lessons we learned through our grief in their passing. We've learned to say, "I love you" all the time...and we try to celebrate the blessing of each day and every moment. These are the good old days.
However, I still don't understand the why of it all, and I've come to the conclusion that I probably never will. They say time heals all wounds, but the scars remain. Yes, it does truly suck.
For you my friend...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Very sad. My only uncle died a long slow death from pancreatic cancer about 5 years ago, and it was a heartbreaking process, watching hospice set up in the middle of his family room, where we'd all gather for the holidays. Cancer is horrible. My sympathies to you as you navigate this hard time with your family. I am sure you're treasuring your time with your loved ones all the more now.
I'm so sorry you are going through this, but I'm glad you chose to write about it. Your sister-in-law sounds like a wonderful person.
My thoughts and love are with you.
My sympathy to her family and yours. Lisa. My mother died of cancer at 51, when I was 18. One of the griefs I still feel as that she didn't get to know my children.
I'm glad you shared all of this -- hopefully it makes the load a little lighter to share it with those of us who DO care about you. You are right, this just really sucks.
My heart is with you and Jim, Lisa. And my prayers are with your friend and her family. So sad. Your beautiful words expressed your love and sadness so very well. As a writer, this is one of your coping mechanisms. You are such a beautiful human being, my friend. My heart aches for you. Sending hugs your way.....
You did such a beautiful job of expressing the despair and helplessness of waiting and watching as someone we love dies. No matter how long you know it's coming, there is no way to be prepared. And, you're absolutely right, it just sucks.
You and your family will be in my thoughts, my friend.
I'm so sorry, Lisa.
I understand how painful this time is for you. I lost a brother to cancer a few years ago. He was 49 and left behind a wife and two boys. He would have made an awesome grandfather! I took this from a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
"Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary."
To truly know and appreciate happiness, I feel we must know sadness. Thank you for sharing your sadness. Your in my thoughts and prayers...
Lisa, I'm so sorry for that lovely lady and all her loved ones who are hurting. And, I'm sorry that I never taught you how to handle such pain...because I never knew how to make it through myself, still don't.
Try to be glad for her to soon be in a place without pain and, dedicate one of your happiest days to her, after she's gone; I'm sure she will be where she will know and be aware of how much she meant to you.
Love and comfort I send to all of you.
Lisa, I'm so sorry you and your family are going through this. Your sister-in-law sounds like a great lady. My sympathies to you all.
My thoughts and prayers are with you and Jim, and for you sister-in-law and her family as she lives her last days on earth. I pray she goes peacefully, surrounded by those who love her.
None of us know our appointed day, but we can each enjoy each day and live it fully as if it were our last. I hope you can help keep your S-I-L's memory alive for her future grandchildren! She will be watching over them from heaven!
I am so sorry you are losing such a wonderful friend and inlaw. Life goes on for everyone, and death is a part of life. I was so close to it myself this year, and all I could think about was my daughters having to plan my funeral. I cried for them, not for me. Please know I know how very sad you must be feeling.
Im sorry thats all because I know there are no words to help
Dear Lisa, I am so sorry to hear about your beloved member of the family is dying. My heart goes out to you, your family & her family. I am pleased you wrote what you did, in some small way I hope that it has helped you. My thoughts, prayers & love are with you. Hugs Sally
We just never know, do we? A reminder, again, to be so grateful for every day we breath and love. I'm so sorry for you and your family. Sending comforting thoughts your way.
I'm sorry to hear this. We try to make sense of life and death, but it doesn't seem possible to do so. We just have to take the time to grieve, and then move on as we can. Not much solace at the time.
Sympathy and hugs. I went through this personal dilemma when my dad was ill--wanting to post yet not wanting to compromise his privacy and dignity. But this post will do a great deal of good. We'll all hold our family members a little bit closer. Sending postive thoughts to all those affected by this sadness.
No it doesn't care. Hugs to you and her.
Dear friends: Thank you, everyone, for the thoughts, prayers, and kind words. It truly makes a difference to know so many care, so many understand. I sincerely appreciate every single comment. Thank you.
Lisa, I am so sorry. It was heartwrenching to read your beautiful tribute to this lovely lady. What a privilege it is for you both to be sisters-in-law.
Lisa, I'm so sorry for your heart break. I'm sorry for this dear lady who won't know her grand children, for her grand children who will never know her except through the memories of those that are left behind. It's hard isn't it, to go on with daily life when a family member is dying. It seems like somehow the world should be put on pause until it's over, greived, then play can begin again after giving the respect deserved to our loved one.
Sadly, Margie Carpenter passed away in the early hours of August 24 at the age of 53.
Thank you, again, for your kind words and prayers for her family.