What is Death with Dignity?

I have this friend. She is sweet, beautiful, brave, generous, and talented, to use only a few words. Her name is Elizabeth and she has Stage IV cancer. She has been living with this diagnosis for over four years. This is after having been in remission from breast cancer for several years.

She recently shared on her own blog that she was beginning the last chemo option she has. That post, and the one immediately after it (about telling her kids), got me thinking about Brittany Maynard, a 29-year-old woman who also has cancer. I see a vast difference between her response and Elizabeth's. This is Elizabeth's first blog post after receiving the Stage IV diagnosis:

It's amazing how relieved I feel. I'm not kidding. Even though I received horrible news today, I just feel so blessed. Let me explain...

For the past week, I've allowed myself to think the worst: that I have cancer all throughout my brain and only have 3-6 months to live. I've pictured losing my sight, my senses, my motor skills, my memory and my very personality. I've planned the details of my funeral and thought about what legacy I'd leave my children. And weaved throughout these practical, yet depressing thoughts, I've prayed and clung to God. He has given me a peace about coming home to heaven, yet a sadness about not having more time on this earth to put my faith into practice. I've been learning so much about God and his love and his soveriegnty and would love the opportunity to LIVE for him...not just be willing to DIE for him.

I have given my life to God (although it was never really mine to begin with)! So whenever God wants me home with him, I'm ready (and *shhh* actually looking forward to it)!

But now, I feel like I've been given this gift of LIFE....even though cancer has moved to my bones! Strange, huh?

For some reason I feel free to live every moment to the fullest. A devastating diagnosis will do that, I suppose. After all...what's really important in this life?

Disclaimer: I hope to remember this in the coming days and months when I'm weak and in pain : )

When my legs are too weak to walk, my heart will be skipping along...enjoying every breath God gives me.

And here is Brittany's choice: "When doctors told Brittany her death would likely be slow and painful as the tumor continued to grow, she opted to choose her own ending. On November 1, surrounded by her husband, mother and best friend, she will end her life using medication prescribed by her doctor" (source).

I've been wrestling with this whole thought of "death with dignity". What does that really mean? Does it mean "dying on your own terms" (which rarely happens)? Or does it mean living with dignity? Living life to its fullest ~ wholly and completely? In a sense, we are all, after all, dying. Most of us don't know when that day will be or how it will happen. Does that mean we won't face it with dignity? Or does dignity come in facing the unknown? I don't know. I do know, though, that Elizabeth has touched many lives with her transparency the past several years. Her life, not her death or a decision to end her life prematurely, will be her legacy. Personally, I think that is where the dignity lies.

Rainbows ~ a Great Promise

2014 has started out ROUGH. We have had a number of things just seem to hit all at once, and, while I won't go into all of them, a big one is the transmission going out in my car. Last night, something else hit and it just felt like the straw that broke the camel's back. I cried and felt like screaming. I was SO mad about something I couldn't fix.

This morning, I saw my teenager out the door and went back to bed since the baby was sleeping. A moment later, I got a text from my son. "Go outside on the porch and look toward the school." Ummm...really? I didn't want to. I was tired. I was still grumpy from last night. I did NOT want to get up and I did NOT want to go outside. I wanted to stay in my warm bed. I wanted to lie there and sulk. But I got up. I went outside and looked toward the school. I saw exactly what he wanted me to see ~ a beautiful vibrant rainbow.

And it got me thinking. God gave the rainbow as a promise. A promise that He will never allow the floods destroy life. From Genesis 9 (NLT):

¹² Then God said, “I am giving you a sign of my covenant with you and with all living creatures, for all generations to come. ¹³ I have placed my rainbow in the clouds. It is the sign of my covenant with you and with all the earth. ¹⁴ When I send clouds over the earth, the rainbow will appear in the clouds, ¹⁵ and I will remember my covenant with you and with all living creatures. Never again will the floodwaters destroy all life. ¹⁶ When I see the rainbow in the clouds, I will remember the eternal covenant between God and every living creature on earth.” ¹⁷ Then God said to Noah, “Yes, this rainbow is the sign of the covenant I am confirming with all the creatures on earth.”

Then I got to thinking about all we've been dealing with lately. One or two things aren't a problem, but all of them compounded at once feels like a flood.

I bet that Noah's family was very grateful to be on the ark, especially right after the rain started. I bet the first few days, it was even somewhat enjoyable. But I'm guessing that on day 21 of the rain, they were getting really tired of being stuck inside with a bunch of stinky animals. And I bet that on day 41, they were ecstatic the rain had stopped and that they could go outside in some sunshine. And my guess is that 6 months later, they were frustrated all over again, wondering when things would dry up and they could step out on dry land. Finally, 9 1/2 months after it stopped raining, they were able to get off the ark. FINALLY.

I'm willing to venture a guess that after they built an altar and thanked God, they felt incredibly blessed and grateful for God's promise. And then they retold the story to their children and grandchildren. "Hey Shem, remember when it felt like it would NEVER stop raining?" "Man, Japheth, those were horrible days, but we had God and we had each other and we got through it. Right, Ham?"

I know that my troubles today aren't nearly the equivalent of a flood over the whole world, but they do affect many aspects of my life and world. They rock my ark, and my security at times feels threatened. BUT (and this is the cool thing) ~ God is in control. My ark might be rocking on the waves, but I'm still afloat. I might feel a little overwhelmed at times, but I have my beautiful family here beside me. And above all, the flood isn't covering everything. That was the reminder I received from that beautiful rainbow this morning. It was just what I needed.

Post-game Interview, the Need for Grace, & an Apology

I am what some would call a "prude." I'm pretty conservative in my beliefs, values, and traditions. I think that's why my response to the Richard Sherman interview (by Erin Andrews) has taken even me by surprise.

In case you haven't heard, the Seahawks won a place in Super Bowl XLVIII. Immediately after the game, Ms. Andrews came up to Mr. Sherman to interview him about what happened in one of the final plays of the game. (If you haven't seen it, click here to watch it.) He showed incredibly poor sportsmanship. One of the things we try to teach our kids is how to be gracious winners. This was definitely not an example of gracious winning. Ideally, he would have said it was a nice effort by Crabtree and just left it alone. If he was unable to do that, then he should have followed the advice of mothers everywhere and not said anything at all.

Alas, he did not.

In response, a number of people are calling for an apology by him to Ms. Andrews (who doesn't seem to mind the attention this interview has gotten) and even more are "disgusted" by the behavior. While I don't think his attitude and comments are what I would like for my children to emulate, I see it a little differently. He didn't react with a profanity-laced tirade (caution: needs bleeped) unfit to be aired without bleeps. He didn't flip anyone off. He probably won't even land on a list of the 10 most unsportsmanlike moments in sports.

I'm ashamed to admit that instead of a gracious response, he responded not unlike what I probably would have in his shoes. You see, I am competitive. I like to win, although I'm not really big on trash-talking. I have been known to do my fair share, though, in response to someone else doing it. I get defensive and feel like I need to get back at them for "running their mouths". If I wait 15 minutes, I wouldn't say anything ~ it's not really who I am, and in the heat of moment, my humanness might take over for a minute. My heart would hurt later over anything I would say in those moments. I look at what happened mere moments before that interview and think, I can only imagine what would have come out of my mouth. (Please note, I don't cuss, but I have been known to use "idiot", "stupid", and more critical terms liberally when annoyed.)

It is in that vein that I find myself standing by Sherman, thinking that he showed more restraint than most in similar situations, but less grace than many. Last year, I worked on extending grace, and perhaps this is an extension of that. I probably wouldn't have been as forgiving (or grace-giving) a little over a year ago. Now, though, I am trying to be more open in recognizing my own flaws and failures, and this is one that really cuts close. I am trying to learn to use my words "for good." I don't want to be the one remembered for a few poorly chosen words, but rather for what I said to uplift and encourage the downtrodden and for what I said to defend those who couldn't defend themselves.

This isn't intended to defend Sherman. It's my own defense ~ my own response ~ a recognition on my part of my own failings and how hard it is to see someone else being hit so hard for something I've done. Ouch. I hope to do better in the future. In the meantime, I offer my own apology for any hurt I've caused out of my own competitive spirit.

One More Day!

He's coming home!

My son has been gone the past week-and-a-half, spending Christmas and New Year's with his dad and family in that part of the country. He goes three times a year ~ part of Christmas break, all of spring break, and all but a week of summer break. Last summer, he left a few days after his baby sister was born, and I am so glad he was able to be here and have a few days with her before he left. She grew and changed so much while he was gone, but she wasn't quite as aware that a family member was missing. This time, though, she knows who "brother" is and loves to sit and play with him. He loves to "wear" her (in a Boba carrier), and she thoroughly enjoys being toted around by him. He has made up songs for her and likes to make her laugh. He will take baby girl whenever he can. If she starts fussing in the car, he right away tries to help cheer her up.

The past ten days have been hard. She misses him and loves listening to him on the phone. More than her missing him, I miss him. A lot. Every time. Our home just seems so incomplete with him not here. He is a daily dose of joy and humility for me. lol Seriously ~ he's a teenager and he has his moments, but I thoroughly enjoy having him around. He is a great kid. He has chores that I have to nag him about at times, but he is incredibly helpful otherwise. I miss him ~ and not his help (although that is great), but his presence.

His heart for others is incredible. I've no doubt that it's a big part of why he is such a great big brother. He has raised money for suicide prevention after a friend killed himself. He's raised money during the 30 Hour Famine for World Vision. He is part of the youth group at church and is hopeful that in the next few years, he'll be able to go on a mission trip. He stands up for people who don't always have someone to stand for them.

I appreciate his insight ~ he often sees things in a way that I don't...or sometimes in a way that I should. His presence is a good reminder to me for my resolution word for this year. If I'm not gentle with him ~ or someone else ~ form his viewpoint, he reminds me. Aside from my hubby, I don't know who else would be able to effectively give me that type of feedback.

I can't wait to see him tomorrow.

My "Resolution Word" for 2014

Two or three years ago, a Facebook friend (former college classmate) shared about how she was not doing New Year's resolutions, but instead was choosing a word to live throughout the year. It was a fascinating way to look at resolutions, and I decided then that I was going to do the same.

In 2012, I chose "love". I tried to live each day with an example of love. Not always easy, but I tried. I did cheat a little that year, as I knew I was getting married, so "love" kind of was an obvious choice.

In 2013, I chose "grace". I wanted to learn to not only give grace to others, but also to myself. I think I've came a long way in regards to extending grace, although I must admit that I still struggle with be gracious to myself sometimes. I think, though, that it has helped in regards to my parenting this time around.

I've been giving a lot of thought to my word for 2014. I thought of "grow" or "learn", but those are obvious, as I'm starting classes in a few weeks. I thought of "time", but I've already talked some about that in another post. I'm trying to challenge myself this year.

Then, I thought of a word that I've struggled with for myself for a while. I know this will be a challenge, but I am praying that I make it. The word this year is "gentle". I looked up a definition, and here it is from dictionary.com:

gen·tle

[jen-tl]

adjective, gen·tler, gen·tlest.

kindly; amiable: a gentle manner.

not severe, rough, or violent; mild: a gentle wind; a gentle tap on the shoulder.

moderate: gentle heat.

gradual: a gentle slope.

 

verb (used with object), gen·tled, gen·tling.

to tame; render tractable.

to mollify; calm; pacify.

to make gentle.

to stroke; soothe by petting.

to ennoble; dignify.

Synonyms
clement, peaceful, pacific, soothing; tender, humane, lenient, merciful. Gentle, meek, mild refer to an absence of bad temper or belligerence. Gentle has reference especially to disposition and behavior, and often suggests a deliberate or voluntary kindness or forbearance in dealing with others: a gentle pat; gentle with children. Meek implies a submissive spirit, and may even indicate undue submission in the face of insult or injustice: meek and even servile or weak. Mild suggests absence of harshness or severity, rather because of natural character or temperament than conscious choice: a mild rebuke; a mild manner, temperate, noble, manageable, docile, tame, quiet, courteous, polished.

 

WOW. That's a tall order. I want to clarify, though: it's not that I'm ever deliberately unkind or hurtful. I am, however, always honest and straightforward ~ and most times, I don't filter it through a lens of gentleness. One friend once said to me "It's not that you're not gentle. You're just......firm." My hope is to be more gentle in my responses to people. I can still be firm, but I definitely need to add gentleness to the mix.

 

Have you ever chosen a word as your "resolution"? Would like you to share how it went (or what it was)? Would you like to join me on the journey for this year? I share my chosen word publicly to help hold me accountable, but you don't have to. It is relieving to not have a bunch of resolutions to try to stick to. Just a single word ~ that is doable, but not necessarily easily so. I hope you choose well.

Time Flies when You're a Parent

I just dropped my older child off for freshman orientation. I can't believe he is a freshman in high school this year. It seems like only yesterday that I took him to preschool for the first time. He didn't really want me to leave, but eventually turned and went to make some new friends. Eleven years later, he tossed a "Love you" over his shoulder and hopped out of the car without so much as a glance back. As I drove away, I did something very unexpected ~ I teared up....and then cried all the way home. My "baby boy" is growing up. I've known it was coming, but it really hit me today when I wasn't expecting it. Wow...where has the time gone?

I went into motherhood not knowing what to expect, and I know I've stumbled along the way. Thankfully, I get my footing back, move forward, and try to learn from my mistakes. Despite the mistakes, I think my son is doing very well ~ I am so proud of my young man and who he is becoming.

Now, I'm back at square one. I have a newborn, and it's all new again ~ a girl this time. There are ways that she is so similar to her brother (she is pretty easy-going and loves to smile), but of course, there are differences, too. There are differences in me, too. That's where this blog comes in.

Over the last 14 years, I've said WAY too often, "next week" or "tomorrow" or "later", as well as "hurry up" or "maybe next time". With my new baby, I often hear the advice given to all new moms: "treasure every moment, they grow up fast". I've also read a lot recently that moms say they don't really "treasure" those moments when they're crying or fussy. Well, for me, I am treasuring every moment I get with her. Don't get me wrong, I hate hearing her cry. BUT....I know that the time where I can be enough to console her is limited. I know that the time where the worst things going on in her life are that her diaper needs changed, she needs to eat/burp, she is tired, or she just needs to know she's loved will one day turn into things that I can't easily solve. I love her little smiles. I love when she snuggles up to me, asleep with a full belly after nursing. I love the sunshine she brings into my life. I love that I am able to rock her and hold her and snuggle her and let her know that she is loved and safe with me.

The past couple of years, I've tried to stop the "next week", "tomorrow", or "some day" answers to "Mom, can we...?" and instead tried to make it happen (when within reason). Sometimes, those are the right answers, but I am trying to give a more definitive answer than those ("next Tuesday" or "tomorrow right after breakfast" or "in June after school gets out"). God has thus far blessed me with two beautiful children (and a gorgeous stepdaughter), and while I feel completely unworthy and frequently inadequate, I know that He is able to give me what I need to provide grace when I mess up. For that (and so much more), I am very thankful.