Finality and Hope

March 12th
I wept today. Sobbed. Just hours ago. Just hours ago I said goodbye to my Italian Mama, Teresa.

I have not been to many funerals. My earliest and first was my great grandmother's, Adeline, when I was 9. I still remember the pain I felt in that room as a young kid. I remember my chest hurting while I watched all the hurt around me. I still remember some of the words I recited from the poem my parents wrote for her. I was proud to be given that responsibility. But it still hurt. That feeling stuck w me and from that point forward I dreaded all wakes and funerals. I do not do well. And since then if an acquaintenance passed away I simply sent a card to share my condolescences. It was just something I couldn't handle. I did not attend another funeral until over 20 years later. I know most people cannot say that. I know how lucky I was.

Nothing prepared me for the pain I would feel at the funerals of my filipino cousins Jimmy and Jacob in 2007. Their sudden and tragic deaths by drowning were unspeakable. Their anniversary is approaching and my family's pain deepens as the countdown hits, each year they trigger their pain at the marking of Jacob's March bday. Those novenas and buriels were absolutely heartwrenching. I had NEVER seen so much ache in one room, one grassy space afront coffins. No parent should have to bury their child before their own death. No one!

Teresa's service brought back so many of those aches and pains. I have a had a connection with this lovely lady since I was 8. Maria was my first friend in the new neighborhood. Her parents the first to welcome me into their home. Feed me AMAZING Italian food and wine. Their home was always filled with such a sense of togetherness. So comforting. So caring. I could go on and on with the memories but I wont. All I know is seeing those 3 children, now adults, and her husband was not easy. And yet as much as I dreaded seeing their pain , all I wanted to do all week leading up to this day was hold them, hug them.

When I arrived at the church I realized they would be walking in as a family with her body. Oh my. As soon as I saw them I lost it. Every one of their faces was purely empty. They were drained of life themselves. Numb. Their pain was everywhere. So what if Teresa was not hurting anymore! Everyone in that room was! How is this okay? How is this the way life is? Birth and death? I question it all. Her family has every right to be angry. I filled with so many fears of my own. The anger. Fears. More unknowns. The day I myself will be following my own parents caskets. I just can't.

It felt like a bad dream really. For years that family has suffered with one cancer diagnosis after another, amongst more than one of them. The type of family you want to yell at God FOR. I have prayed enough is enough already many times. Leave them alone! But no answers.

And here they were weeks ago coaching Charito and I through their chapters of lung cancer. And now it was over. So quickly. So unfair. When did it come to this? No trips to the zoo with Matteo. No opportunity to make his first communion outfit. No a lot of things. And those thoughts not only hurt to think of, the reality of it, but also my fear. My fear this would be our path with my own motherinlaw. Is cancer always this cruel to adults? Grandmothers? Even with hope, is this what happens to the elders? I only know the child like cruelties of cancer. I live it everyday. And we have had hope since the beginning and we face those cruelties with such force no one would want to challenge Charito and I. It is a fight they could not win. Us Carpers will win this one.

More cancer is what it was. And you bet I wept for my boy in that church. I told myself over and over again IT WILL NOT BE HIM. I WILL NOT PICK OUT A TINY PRETTY BOX TO PLACE MY BOY IN. NO. And that is what I said to my favorite girls and their brother and their father as I hugged them before the procession. Bc of course, with cancer on their brains, Grayson is who they asked about. It was the hug I wanted to give all week. And as much as I feared facing them, their painful eyes once I held onto them, I did not want to let go. We held each other so tight. I didn't care who was in line behind me to pay their condolescences. It was my friend, her sister, brother and father who I wanted to be there for. It was so hard. Their loss of faith so evident. And I don't blame them one bit. I am going through similar doubts myself. Not so sure they will get theirs back. They are a family that toiled with it for 10+yrs. Of course they are going to hate...alot. I would be the same.

But as we stood by Teresa's side in the mausoleum and said our final goodbyes I continued to pray. Pray their hurt will subside even just the tiniest in the upcoming weeks. I worry. I worry as soon as all of the out of towners head out...the quiet, the aloneness, the solace. It will hurt even more. It will become even more real. And it will feel like drowning. The what now questions will continue to trail them each morning. And even though I am not going through what they are going through somehow I played all this, piece by piece in my mind. I may not have loss my mother but I have shared a bit of their fears in the past few months. And that is scary. Too scary to see all this cancer amongst such a small group of people. So wrong.

My last goodbye to Teresa...was for Grayson. I KNOW (even though I did not visit her or call her often as I should of, guilt I will have the rest of my life) she cared, asked and prayed for Grayson often. A great woman with her loving heart would have done nothing less. The sickness they shared. The comparisons she most likely contemplated between her adult body and his tiny body...the somewhat similar treatments, procedures and regime. We were allowed to place a rose upon her casket. As I approached the bouquet my flabbered mess of a mushy body, mind and heart motioned me to grab the closest one to me, but in the middle of my reach my hand froze. My eyes widened, past the blurry tears and puffy lids, I saw a single remaining orange rose. Orange for leukemia. Orange for Grayson. I grabbed it. I held it tight. I kissed it as I waited my turn. I felt my tears fall upon it. And then I placed it on her. For her. For Grayson. A promise to her to no longer worry for him. He will be just fine, Teresa.

As I gave my last hugs, my last glances I held onto Charito tight. We walked toward the cars. I told him "That will not be Grayson." He said "I know." I said it louder. I repeated myself several times past tears. I told him I just had to say it aloud. I had to. God has to hear me. Hear my warning. YOU will not take him. Do you hear me? You will not.

I will be keeping this in mind for months to come

Even though I falter too often in God's name it does give me a push in the right direction...

Encouragement for 2011

God is for you
God loves you

God will not fail you

God will be with you

God will provide for you

God will bless you

God will give you rest

God will give you strength

God will answer you

God will uphold you
God will keep you

Taken from DaySpring

Thank you...

ALL OF YOU!

For all that you do and have done. We would not have survived the turmoil of the past 5 mos without you. The way friends, family and strangers continue to rise at our side overwhelms us. I know I use that word OVERWHELM often but truly is no other way to describe the rush of loving arms we have encountered more than ever in recent months.



I woke this morning forgetting it was even Christmas Eve today. Forgetting I promised Triston we would be shopping buddies today. While rescuing Caden from his pee pee soaked pjs, a hurried bath and yummy bottle at 7 am I felt nothing but quiet. Heard nothing but quiet. The house was frozen. Just he and I sitting in the living room taking the morning in. I felt as if I barely any sleep at all. When will I feel refreshed again? The kind of awake that comforts you for days with a sense of new beginning?



Frozen is what last evening was like. Grayson and I arrived home by 1 pm. By 3 pm I decided to surprise my parents and show up in Roselle. I had that giddy, excited, little girl feeling in my belly. But anytime I get a tad of that feeling (like when I get to see my hubby after days at the hospital or when he returns home from work) it is curbed with the what ifs of Grayson. I glance him over. Recall his last meal and drink. Temperature checks. Is it ok to take him out? Only a few hours? Everyone all well at the house? When was the last time he had his meds? Pack the rest of meds. The list goes on. On top of packing what Triston and Caden would need for a few hour outing. Exhausting just to think about or even attempt but that excitement of seeing my parents overrode that ugh feeling. I gathered what I needed and off we were.



Arrived there around 4:30pm. I cannot put into words the feeling of those hugs from my parents. The kinda hugs you suck in every breath, smell and warmth of. You hold onto it to remember it, that moment, bc you waited months to have it back. And then just like that...we fall into a routine that was never more necessary for me. EVER. The kids run, hug, jump, and play til they collapse. Adults gossip, eat and just chill. Everyone observes and comments how fast they are growing. And of course the infamous thought ---as he keeps up with the big boys---Cancer, huh? Where? You wouldnt even know it. That is HOW AMAZING my boy is. And as I fought back tears, enjoyed the laughs, the pizza the company--- I breathed it in. I purposely touched items and paused in areas in that home reminded of me of where I'd been. I smelled the smells that send tiny smiles through my bloodstream. I munched on sweets the way mom and I munch after dinner. I watched and memorized all the facial expressions I wanted to, needed to, in those moments. I missed them beyond words.

Don't get me wrong...the "CAUTION sign" on Grayson's existence never disappears. I did all of the above WHILE watching him like a hawk. I sure as hell did not want to return to that hospital bc of some stupid injury. Or bloody noses bc of low platelets or a surprise bruise or ...the list goes on. That cautious feeling is heightened when we are around others. Not just adults but other kids. Kids will be kids and G will be a 2 year old...and with that comes rambunctious behaviors and injuries. It's the typical parent worries amplified. And unfortunately, it puts a damper on socialization. But we do what we have to get thru the hard before we get to experience the easy-er. I dont know when it will be completely easy but I imagine it will get easier. And to think prior to July 31, it WAS.

And I will not lie...just because I can feel the happiness and gratitude in these next 24 hours especially, it doesnt mean I dont have episodes of anger and sadness. How could I not? And the question plays over and over in my head-How did Charito and I get here? This place in our lives? I don't understand. That question carries so much grief, anger,despair, pain and uncertainty for us. It creeps up at the worst times. It is evil. That question. It haunts me. So now you know...when I am not thinking positive I am plagued by that question alone. And ultimately followed by that question is the recall of diagnosis day. It is inevitable each and every time. Evil.

But with evil comes good. Like the good, no the GREAT, I have seen in people in recent months.

We are grateful. Grateful for those events we label moments. To have my parents to come home to. A wonderful support system everywhere I turn. Health-ier people in our lives. Happiness to be shared all around. It is what the season is for. To remember it like Triston says, " Jesus was born for me, mom. And God made everything I see." Jesus IS the reason for the season. And I decided today to follow the lead of my big 5 yr old and the innocence behind his version of the tale. It is the simplest. And I need simple. No frills involved when it comes to God's involvement on this eve. Simple understanding and acceptance. Sometimes it is easy to get there and other times not but I AM CHOOSING to get there today. Not sure how long it will last (especially since these kiddos are off their rockers today and it is really, really difficult to maintain sanity without exploding in frustration) but I AM TRYING today. And will continue to remind myself when I can all other day to come. I hope you do, too. Merry blessings to all of you this eve. All my love!

Prayer...

from the youngest souls.

Several weeks ago (I believe it was our first week in the hospital due to that fever G had, so I guess I'm going back to the first week of Nov) while on the phone w Triston he told me he made an angel for Grayson. I told him that was the sweetest thing he could do for him. I assured him Grayson was thinking of him to even though he was in the hospital. I was so touched. How could I rear such a sweet biggest brother?

It gets better!!

The next day Charito asks me if T discussed angels with me the previoius night on the phone. I confirmed. He then proceeded to tell me more. It was not just Triston who made Grayson an angel, but the whole class! Charito described the contents of the wrapped gift to me and I was able to bear my eyes upon it almost a week later.

I was in awe....


Precious, huh?!

Each child made an angel. And each page of the book is a sentence starter-

"__________'s prayer for Grayson is ___________"

The responses range from a superman blanket, Transformer, medicine or dollie to make him feel better. True 4-5 yr old responses.

Have I mentioned how wonderful the staff and classmates are to our situation?! We are blessed! And this is just where the generosity began!

Since then, supposedly, a letter was put together desrcribing our situation and shared among the preschool parents of both T's class and the class next door that they share activities with. We have received an abundance of prayers, support, cards, gift certificates, meals and babysitting offers from so many of his classmates' parents. It is pretty overwhelming to say the least. I had a hard time dealing with all the support from my work staff, much less now we are talking from people I barely know or do not at all. The way people open their hearts, wallets and endless care astounds me. Just when you think there are too many crazies out there, rude people, those who don't stop and smell the roses and are thankful for what they have each day....out from the storm rises clarity-the clarity that THERE ARE angels out there willing to do for others. Now BELIEVE me, this was really hard to for me to accept. All I could think of was how there are people out there suffering much worst than I-no insurance, no job, no home, no car, multiple illnesses plaguing one family at a time or family about to mourn the death of another, you know what I am talking about-you and I think it every so often don't we? The people that "will never be me". I thought about how we DO NOT deserve all of these gifts. OTHERS do. I didn't know what to do. Charito and I are speechless.

I spoke with my listeners-Child Life. They helped me see that there is nothing I can do to stop the overflow of generosity. It is no different than if I had a friend in need and felt that tug to do something and nothing was going to stand in my way. They helped me see it, understand it as a recipient (a position I never thought I would be in). They were right-people are going to do what they WANT to do bc they feel that need to do. To give. And now I am surrounded by people who will only accept my verbal thanks. They will not take money, gifts or anything else in return. Child Life and other parents riding this ride similiar to ours helped me realize that I have to accept that, too. The only thing I can do is Pay It Forward. And I have. To perfect strangers lately. It doesn't hurt, right? It only helps. God would want it that way, I think.