"There's no man, alive or dead, who's going to fault you for living."- William, P.S. I Love You

"I can smell the death on the sheets
Covering me
I can't believe this is the end
I can hear You whisper to me,
'It's time to leave
You'll never be lonely again'
But this was my deathbed
I died there alone
When I closed my eyes tonight
You carried me home"

- Relient K, Deathbed

I've been haunted since Friday.  I guess you could say it's been by ghosts, but not in a physical sense, but ghosts from my past.  

It all started Friday on the drive home from work, when I was reminiscing about my grandmother with a family friend.  It was then that I realized that she passed away 15 years ago last month.  It also hit me that I don't remember her.  I mean I can see a photo of her in my head, but I don't remember her smile, her cooking, her hugs.  I don't remember any information about her, accept I recently learned that she enjoyed ice hockey.  I was 8.

When I got home I received an email about my favorite summer event, the mission trip to Mexico. This email, however didn't have a happy ending.  One of the women who has inspired me through these trips has been battling cancer for the last year or so and was placed in hospice recently.  This has been on my mind all weekend and has brought me to tears almost everyday this weekend.  I haven't seen her in 2 years and most likely won't see her again, until that glorious day when we all get to heaven of course.  It just pains me for such a wonderful woman to suffer so greatly.

Later Friday night my lovely friend Sam and I had a girls night since most of the AFC girls were on the Women's Retreat and the AFC guys were having Man Night.  We ended up watching one of my top 10 movies, A Walk to Remember.  Now this movie alone is sad, then play the (yup you guessed it) cancer card.  This never fails to move me, I cry EVERY time I watch it.  This probably didn't help me too much emotionally, but its just good art, which was the point in watching it in the first place.  By the way, anytime I watch a movie where there is cancer...I will cry, no matter how horrible the movie may be.

I then started thinking about the last year, or so, my family has had.  In the span of 6 months my mom lost 3 siblings to lung and esophageal cancer.  One of my uncle's who passed during this time, the first actually, was one that I had hard feeling towards, especially during the end.  Not only had I only met him 3 times in my life, he didn't come to his own father's funeral, or tell family he was dying until a week before he passed.  I remember writing a letter (that was never sent) to him that told him how disgusted I was by his actions and the pain he caused.

A month later (September) my aunt passed, this one really hurt my mom as they had finally become close in their adult relationship.  They spent a lot of time together towards the end of her life and it was difficult to see her go.

When January rolled around, my other uncle passed, leaving my oldest aunt and my mother (the youngest) the remaining of the 5 siblings.  

I spent a lot, and I mean A LOT of time during that 6 month period thinking about what I would have changed if I could, the questions I would have asked I known their time here was as short as it was.  I also thought about my Boom-Pa (my maternal grandfather) and the undiagnosed depression I had after his passing in 2007 from lung cancer as well.  It had actually gotten to the point where I had a dream that Boom-Pa had called me asking why I had hated him so much, which I found odd because I didn't, he was my grandfather and I loved him with all my heart.  Upon thinking about the dream I realized that I had become so busy with the switch from high school to college that I didn't write, or call, or do much of anything with him during his last year.  I blame myself for not asking those important questions that I later realized would have helped me understand him more.  The biggest question that I have or him is what was it like to fight in World War II.  I have a strange fascination with that war, he lived it, and I never asked or took interest in it when I was with him.

I have plenty of memories of riding the tractor with him when I was younger at the family farm, eating "frozen" Snickers with him, watching the Gators play football with him at Thanksgiving (and I think that's why I don't mind them as much as other Seminole fans do).  I remember when he remarried Dorie (Grumsie, if you will), going to New York City with them for spring break in 1999.  Grumsie and I have only talked once since Boom-Pa's memorial service.  

There are so many things that I regret not doing with each of these individuals, so many questions that I didn't ask that will now be unanswered.  Why didn't I talk to them before, why didn't I take the time?  These are thoughts that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.  Anytime I hear of someone that I know who is diagnosed with cancer, my first thought is will that me be?  Will that be my mom or dad?  Will we suffer what they did thanks to this horrible illness?

I've been joking with my family about how this year marks my dad's 50th anniversary of when he started to smoke, but really it kills me to think about the toxins running through his body.  I just want it all to go away.  No more cancer, no more pain or illness.  

But such is life.  We have to suffer hardships to learn and grow, to become better people.  We need these experiences so that we can help others through their pain and suffering.  It's just one more way God wants us to connect to each other, to know we aren't the only ones to experience (insert problem here).  It's like Jim said in his sermon this morning: If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it (1 Corinthians 12:26).

With that being said, I should stop thinking about my pain and rejoice in the freedom that comes with death, that final release of pain, and focus on celebrating the time that I did have, no matter how short it was.  While my time with the people mentioned above range from a couple of hours to several years, they all impacted my life, and they all helped make me who I am in one way or another, and I'm a stronger and better person for it.

I'm sorry about the novel that I've written tonight, but it was much needed.

ne