Please support Hats Unto Others!

The first time Mike ever saw me cry was on June 1, 2009, the day I found out my Beautiful Aunt Joyce died of breast cancer. The second time he saw me cry was last Labor Day weekend when I learned my dear friend Lisa McGlaun had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

You know how I feel about that f*cking disease (and my regular readers know what it can suck).  Fortunately, Lisa has completed her chemo and is doing well.  So well that, true to her character, she's not thinking of herself but is helping others.  I'll let her tell her story.

When I went to my oncologist's office for the first time back in August I distracted myself by reading all of the signs posted on the walls. That way I didn't have to think about what was coming down the pipe....chemo, surgery, radiation....lots of stuff that scared the shit out of me but all of it out of my control. So one of the signs said, "Do you want to be a happy hooker?" Well, that caught my attention! Turns out it was for the next meeting of the "happy hookers", a group my doctor started. They get together once a month and crochet hats and blankets for the chemo patients that receive treatment at her office...which I was about to be one of!

So I went to the meeting and loved it so much that I started spending all my down time (time on the couch because I didn't have the energy to get up) crocheting hats. I'd learned to crochet from a family friend when I was eleven but hadn't made anything in years so making the hats ignited my creativity again. It also gave me a way to keep my mind off myself and on something positive like giving back to the community...my new community of loved ones on "Planet Cancer"...:)

Comprehensive Cancer Centers of Nevada has several offices around the valley. I went to an appointment at a different office one day and realized that they didn't have a program to provide hats for their patients. I began to donate my hats there instead. Yarn got expensive! Ideas began to roll around in my head for how to keep these donations going. I'd go to sleep thinking about it and then I'd wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it. Always at 4 a.m. because cancer patients who are on steroids never get a good night's sleep..lol..that is my new wake up time!..arrggg.

So I settled on a buy one/share one program and my husband Todd came up with the name "Hats Unto Others," like "Do Unto Others as you'd have them do unto you." :) Very clever, that man of mine!

Beautiful Lisa

I've had a great response. I think that is because it is a win/win situation for everyone involved. I get to make hats to give to people who need them and now have funding to buy the yarn. Also, I get to be really creative in making the custom hats that people order. The buyer gets a cool hat for themselves and the satisfaction of having another hat donated in their name. Now they are able to help a cancer patient too! The cancer patient gets a hat, which is a very good thing because until you've experienced a bald head you don't realize just how cold it can be! LOL

When I am at home in the evening I almost always have on a hat...my head just gets very cold. I know other women who've lost their hair feel like I do. There have been nights when I've slept with one on because even though I'm nestled under the covers my shiny bald head is not! It's helped a great deal.

I've had 30 orders so far. I'm very pleased with that and I'll continue making the donation hats even if no one else ever orders. As long as I have yarn, I'll keep going. I've set a goal of donating 1000 hats and I intend to reach it

If you've ever known someone with breast cancer--and at this point who doesn't?-- you know how helpless you feel.  You want to do something.  Well. here's something you can do.  If you can, please help Lisa reach her goal.  You can find out more or place an order by emailing her at hatsuntoothers@gmail.com. 

How I wish my aunt were still here on earth with us; I would have loved to buy her a couple of hats.  Although she did manage to find one herself...

B.A.J. was so funny!

I have cried twice in front of Mike since then, both within the past week.  Once was because I was pissed and the other was when I saw on Facebook that my friend's 32-year-old daughter died of breast cancer.   She had learned of her daughter's Stage 4 diagnosis only five days earler.  Thirty-two years old!  And she leaves behind 6-month-old twins.

I'd so rather cry out of anger. 

But what is there to be angry about?  Let's enjoy every minute of life today, shall we?  And thank you, dear Lisa, for being the angel on earth that you are.  With every cell in my body, I wish you a full recovery and a long, long life ahead.

Great news in my family!

You know how I have two aunts named Joyce, right? Well, had. My father’s sister, Beautiful Aunt Joyce, passed away last June, remember? That’s not the great news. No, the great news is, you’re not going to believe this... her husband, my uncle John, is getting married tomorrow.

I know! It’s tempting to rush to judgments and assumptions. Like jeez, couldn’t they have waited at least a year and he probably had her waiting in the wings. On that second count, I assure you nothing could be further from the truth.

Joyce and John got married on June 3, 1967; my sister Lori and I were flower girls in their wedding. They were 21 years old. Joyce died 2 days before their 42nd anniversary and I can tell you no man ever demonstrated more devotion to his wife than John; he couldn’t have been more loving in his care for her during her illness. Here they are when Lori and I visited at Christmas 2008.


That was Joyce’s last surge of remission; soon after she had surgery to combat the cancer that had spread to her brain and after that she never regained her footing.

Shortly after Joyce’s death, John told me that he’d lost his parents nine days apart and had attended his brother’s funeral just two months before Joyce’s, but nothing could have prepared him for the loss of his wife. It was hard to imagine him alone in their beautiful country home in the woods outside Jim Thorpe, PA; a house my aunt had meticulously decorated and that held her physical imprint after she was gone.

Last summer John reconnected with a former co-worker (John took an early retirement from his position as a Ph.D.-level chemical engineer), a woman named Dolores whom I believe he’d met almost 30 years ago. And tomorrow they’re getting married, on Valentine’s Day.

Too soon? Why wait, I say. Nothing is going to bring my aunt back. Joyce was truly the nicest person on earth and I know she would never want her beloved to suffer with grief. Who knows—maybe in some kind of cosmic way, she was instrumental in getting them together.

So here’s to you, John and Dolores! May you enjoy good health and happiness together for many, many years. I believe there’s an angel in your corner cheering you on.

And life goes on…

Well, yesterday I was back at work in my gray cubicle, though I was no longer consumed with worry about my aunt. I’d like to think all that “she’s in a better place” stuff is true. Maybe it is. It’s still hard to believe she’s gone.

I rode down from Albany to Pennsylvania Friday afternoon with my kids. It was really nice to have them all to myself for four hours; usually when I go back to Albany there are a lot of people around and I don't get to connect with them much. If you’re new to my blog, both of my kids are singer-songwriters. Christopher is a sweet and gentle soul. Courtney is also a sweet and gentle soul, but she’s also a trip and a half.

Court’s an excellent driver, so we took her little Subaru. As we got off the NYS Thruway, I read the directions my sister Lori had written up for us.

Me: “Look for 84 west. We want 84 west.”
Courtney: “Okay.”
Me: “Oops, I think we missed it. That was the entrance ramp.”
Courtney: “No problem, I’ll just pull a huey.”

Courtney skillfully makes a U-turn.

Courtney: “Okay, so now we want 84 east, right?”

Isn’t she precious?

The wake, held at the church where Beautiful Aunt Joyce was a pastor, was tough. It was a closed casket, and I swear I could have hurled myself over that thing like a wailing Italian widow. Very sad. We did, however, get a kick out of sentiment on the floral arrangement from her congregation.


Beloved Paster--too funny. I knew BAJ was into scrapbooking, but I had no idea her pasting skills could mean so much.

After the wake we went back to our hotel suite in the nearby town of Lehighton and had the traditional family beer party. I took this picture of Chris and Courtney in the parking lot. I don’t care that they're 30 and 31—they’re still adorable to me.


Saturday morning we went back to the church for the service and of course, it was very emotional. Joyce was only 12 years older than I am—way too young to die. I kept thinking what if I only had 12 years left? You never know. Scary.

Because Joyce was a pastor, the service was very religious (duh). Church never clicked with me—even when I was a little kid—and whenever I go to funerals, I realize that when they’re talking about the deceased person, I’m sobbing away, but as soon as they start talking about Jesus, I kind of space out and I stop crying. So in a way, I really am comforted by all the religious stuff. Ironic, huh?

I have to tell you this. Joyce was a bit of a kook, and when she was sick she used to make videos of herself doing a take-off on the old Senor Wences character from the Ed Sullivan show. Her character was called Senor Fuentes and he had little costumes and everything. Here she is hamming it up last Christmas.


So check this out. In the middle of the funeral service, the minister said, “I can’t believe I’m doing this, and I would only do it for Joyce…” and then he put up his hand, which had a face painted on it.


His little painted hand person told everyone that Joyce would want us to go on with our lives and live with laughter. It was the biggest “laughter through tears” scene you could imagine.

At the end, BAJ was taken to a special plot in the little cemetery outside the church. It’s a beautiful spot, but what's up with that sign?


Lori was a pallbearer, and I was so happy that our uncle John selected her for that honor. The loss of BAJ is especially hard for her. Lori was a handful in her day—to give you an idea, she’s now an administrator at the juvenile home where she lived as a teenager. Lori’s both my sister and my best friend, and I can tell you she has one of those strong personalities that some people find intimidating. Not everyone gets her, and not everyone appreciates her. BAJ was one of the people who truly loved Lori unconditionally from Day One. It's a big loss.

In the last few weeks, Lori made several trips from Albany to PA. Most of the time she’d dirty up every pot and pan in Joyce and John’s house, making and freezing meals so they would always have something handy to eat. Shortly before Joyce died, Lori spent a sleepless night holding her hand in the hospice. Every few minutes Joyce would weakly call out to her, “Lor?”

“I’m right here,” she’d reply.

The night after Joyce passed away, Lori was sleeping in her bed at home and she swears she heard Joyce’s voice call her again.

“Lor?” she said. Only this time her voice was strong, like it was before she got so sick. We think it was Joyce’s way of telling her she’s okay.

How about you? Do you think that could be possible?

What today would have been

When I was a kid, people had to be important in some way to get their picture in the local newspaper when they died. I was a child with big ambitions; my goal was to be that important. These days anyone and everyone can have a photo included with the obit, so now I want to simply lie in state.

Today would have been Beautiful Aunt Joyce and Uncle John's 42nd wedding anniversary. I remember the day well--Lori and I were flower girls. Forty-two years!


I can't imagine what it would be like to lose your life partner after such a long time. And I really believe they had a joyous marriage. We should all be that lucky.

Let's see, if I get married, um... tomorrow... yeah, I can still get 42 years in.

Sad news about Beautiful Aunt Joyce

I’m sorry to say that Beautiful Aunt Joyce passed away today at 7:15 EDT. Even though I knew with 100% certainty it was coming, it’s still a bit of a shock knowing she’s actually gone. That headache you get from crying so much is starting to settle in; this post will be therapy for me.

I’m leaving for Albany tomorrow afternoon and will be returning to Vegas on Sunday. Amazingly, the bereavement policy at work allows for three days off, even for aunts, which is nice. My sister Lori was teasing me about this post—she said at least now I don’t have to go into rehab or have elective surgery to get out of work. We're sick, huh?

I don’t know when the wake and funeral will be, but we’ll have a family caravan down to Pennsylvania either Wednesday or Thursday. As sad as we all feel, every one of us in this crazy clan is a comedian (and nothing is off limits), so there’s sure to be lots of laughter through the tears. Yeah, we put the “fun” not only in dysfunctional, but funeral, too.




Joyce would want it that way; she had an incredible sense of humor herself. Even though it was devastating for her to lose her hair to chemo, she found a way to laugh about it. Baldness? Nothing a hat with built-in dreadlocks can’t solve!




Here she is with my nephew Cameron, Lori’s son.


And here they are again—pulling a little switcharoo with the headgear. Cam, that wig is so totally you!


Funny, huh? Just your typical pastor.

This picture was taken last Christmas. BAJ was doing so well then; her hair was growing back and she seemed like she was on the upswing. So sad now.


Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who left such loving comments on my recent posts. You have no idea how comforting your sentiments are (especially the bawdy ones!) And I'm so sorry to hear of all of your losses. The blogsphere is an amazing place—I feel like I have dear friends all over the world. Some I’ve actually met… many I feel like I know… but most of you just read my crap and slip onto and off my site without saying a word. Thank you. Whoever you are, I know you're there.

I’m not sure when I’ll get to post again; my posting schedule has been out of whack lately and will continue to be for a little while longer. Just check back when you can, and know you’re loved.

Another one rated R for language

Well, I have to say that I thought twice about yesterday’s post. I was afraid that maybe I’d finally crossed the line with all the “suck my dick” talk. First I thought about the poor, nice, unsuspecting reader who might be visiting my blog for the first time and then gets assaulted by that crap. Then I thought of all the perverts who are now sure to be coming to my site because they’ve Googled “suck my dick.” Great. Hi, guys.

But when the comments came in from my dear, sweet readers saying, “Yeah, fuck cancer! Cancer can suck my dick, too!” I started feeling glad about throwing the filthy talk out there. It was actually empowering. I mean, how often do women get to say something so in-your-fucking-face, and with such conviction? Man, it felt good! Of course, I’m sure I’m the only person on earth who’s ever gotten an email from her daughter asking, “Who is Elisabeth Kubler Ross and why should she suck your dick?”

Yeah.

Sorry, there’s just no smooth segue… Go pour yourself a coffee or hit the john and come back.

Okay, here’s the latest on Beautiful Aunt Joyce. It’s not good; I guess the doctors are projecting 2-14 days. My sister Lori drove down to Pennsylvania yesterday and my cousin flew in from Texas. Mom is leaving Boise on Sunday (though for the record, BAJ is my father’s sister). I’m not sure what to do; I was on the fence about whether I should head east as well. I was a hospice volunteer for several years and I know that sometimes people hang on much longer than you’d ever expect. It’s a tough call.

For now, I’m just proceeding as usual, knowing that I might be on a plane sooner rather than later. Beloved boyfriend and I are following through with our plans to go away this weekend; we’re seeing Lucinda Williams in Mesa, Arizona, on Saturday night. I’ve been to a million Lucinda shows already and she’s always wonderful. We’ll be staying at what should be a beautiful resort in Cave Creek; hopefully it will actually look like the photos they have on their website. (Remember my post from last April about the Cottonwood Resort in Scottsdale?)

It will be good to rest up and have some peace and alone time, knowing what’s inevitably lying ahead. So sad.

Thank you all for your prayers and best wishes for Joyce. My heart is breaking, but your kind words mean so much to me, more than you can possibly imagine. I’ll keep you posted.

Um, did I tell you I hate cancer?

This is not the post I intended to write for today; I’m a bit out of sorts. Moments before I did the panel presentation at the library last night, I talked to my sister Lori, who had some bad news: Beautiful Aunt Joyce in Pennsylvania is not doing well. That’s actually a massive understatement; she’s in the hospital and will soon be moving to the inpatient hospice area. Lori says the medical people said it probably won’t be days, but it could be weeks. Hopefully BAJ will reach a point where she can have hospice services at home. Right now she’s in a lot of pain and her quality of life is starting to suck. She told Lori on Wednesday that she feels she is ready to go.

Cancer. Started with breast cancer; now it’s everywhere.

My first thought is WHY HER? That’s what I just don’t get. BAJ lived the cleanest life imaginable—I doubt she’s ever had a drink and certainly never smoked and maybe I’ve heard her swear once. (Yes, she’s a blood relative—I know what you’re thinking.) On top of it all, she’s a goddamn pastor! Of all people to be suffering. Wouldn't you think God should be on her side?

I fucking hate cancer. God forgive me for saying “fuck” in a post about Beautiful Aunt Joyce, but I fucking hate cancer. Years ago you never heard of cancer like you do today. Hell, I think my first exposure was the movie Brian’s Song; Brian Piccolo was the first person I’d ever heard of having cancer and he wasn’t even someone I knew in real life. That was 1971; I was in junior high school before I even knew a thing about cancer! And now it’s fucking everywhere. WTF is going on???

So as I’m sitting here typing on a laptop computer, it’s hard not to think of all the amazing goddamn technological advances that have been made since that movie came out. It’s just hard to believe that with all the goddamn geniuses coming up with shit like the Internet and freakin’ iPhones that there’s not a single goddamn person walking this earth who’s smart enough to analyze some cells in a fucking petrie dish and discover a cure for cancer.

I mean, really--and all the fucking races to raise money for the cure and American Cancer Society this and that… and give, give, give… and don't even get me going on the New Age thinkers who’ll tell you that it’s your own feelings of resentment that in turn manifest themselves inward as cancer… they can just SUCK. MY. DICK.

Clearly, I’m in the anger stage. I so preferred denial.

Oh, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, you can suck my dick, too. If I had one.

Update on my trip east

I know--Monday is not my usual blogging day, but I'm going to be traveling tomorrow and won't get a chance to post.

Lori and I left our sister Stacie's house in Fairfax, Virginia, early Sunday afternoon and headed north to Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania. On the way we stopped at the King-of-Prussia mall, where we met my blogging buddy Debbie Schubert and her husband, Chuck, for dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. I hadn't met Debbie before, so it was a real treat to see her in person, and she and Chuck are absolutely adorable together. How wonderful that they've been married for over 25 years! It was such a joy to meet them. I'll post a picture once I get back to Vegas.

Beautiful Aunt Joyce is hanging in there. Cancer is such a pain because it seems once you get one thing under control, something else pops up. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, BAJ had brain surgery recently and the steroids they have her on are kicking her ass. Sucks.

She has such an unbelieveable attitude, though. Last night Lori and I were bitching about something or other and our Uncle John was ragging on Joe Biden, and then Lori said, "What about you, Joyce? Do you have something you want to complain about?" Poor Joyce just sat there trying to get comfortable in her recliner and said, "Oh no, I'm good."

One of the reasons I picked this weekend to come back east was that Lori told me Loretta Lynn was going to be at Penn's Peak, this awesome venue about a mile from BAJ and John's house, on March 30. We saw Little Feat there over Christmas; it's really a fantastic place. John picked up our tickets for us a couple of weeks ago, and all the way up from Stacie's we talked about what a freakin' treat it will be to see Loretta Lynn. Not that we're into country or anything, but for Christsakes, she's a legend! And Lori said John told her it was almost sold out, so how lucky were we? We were even bragging about it to Debbie and Chuck, and I'm missing my incredibly handsome boyfriend's birthday today, which I feel terrible about, but this just seemed like a good weekend to come back here.

So this afternoon Lori, BAJ, and I are sitting around, with BAJ nestled in her recliner. She had a rough morning; another doctor's appointment. It takes all her strength just to get up and out, and of course they did another biopsy because now they suspect skin cancer; one more thing to contend with once she gets her strength back. One of us mentioned that we'd better check and see what time Loretta Lynn goes on tonight and then John yelled in to us from the other room.

"GIRLS! We have a problem. These tickets are for Friday, March 20."

Ever the optimist, I wondered why they would have printed the wrong date on the tickets. I mean, that would be weird, right? They never print the wrong dates on tickets.

Um, the show was 10 days ago. John picked up the tickets on March 19, the day before the concert. That's why it was almost sold out.

Lori, Joyce and I laughed our heads off--the kind of cracking up where you think you might cough up a lung. My head was actually hurting from laughing so hard. Lori felt terrible for screwing up the date, but it's all good. It was worth it to see Beautiful Aunt Joyce get such a kick out of us; she seemed so down after her appointment. We had a great afternoon looking at old pictures of the family and the truth is, I'd rather spend the extra time hanging out here. Every minute with BAJ is a gift.

Tomorrow morning Lori and I drive up to Albany; I fly back to Vegas at 6:00. Hopefully I'll get to see my kids and grandson before my flight.

Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers for Joyce--so very appreciated! I wish I could meet each one of you and thank you personally.

XOXO

P.S. Just had this conversation with Lori:

Lori: "What are you doin' Linda Lou? Blogging?"
Me: "Yeah, I'm putting up my post since we'll be on the road tomorrow."
Lori: "Well, good thing you didn't have anything else to do tonight."

On the road again...

Short post today. I'm at my sister Stacie's house in Fairfax, Virginia, outside of Washington, D.C. I got in last night around midnight; my sister Lori drove down from Albany yesterday. We'll have a brief visit with Stacie and her family, and tomorrow we're driving up to Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania, to see Beautiful Aunt Joyce.

BAJ has been fighting cancer and all the related crap that goes along with it for a few years now and has been through how many rounds of radiation, chemo, blah, blah, blah... A few weeks ago she had surgery to remove a brain tumor and it seems that the recovery from that has been the most challenging. Can I just say I fucking hate cancer. I can't believe that with all the friggin' geniuses walking around, no one has been able to figure out how to get rid of it. For good.

BAJ is a young aunt; she's only 12 years older than me. Trust me when I tell you she's the nicest person on earth--not a foul-mouthed, center-of-her-own-universe type like me. She has a master's in divinity and was a pastor at her church for many years before she became too ill to keep up with the responsibilities of her position. A pastor. In my family!

So Lori and I will be up there to see her tomorrow, and then Tuesday morning we'll be driving up to Albany. Hopefully I'll get to see my kids and grandson for a bit before I fly back to Vegas that evening. I should get in around midnight, and then it's back to work in the cubicle at 7 a.m. Wednesday.

So it doesn't look like I'll be able to post Tuesday since I'll be on the road, but if I can put something up before then, I will. In the meantime, any thoughts, prayers, and positive vibes you can send to our Beautiful Aunt Joyce will be very much appreciated.

Thanks so much. I love you all.