To quote a part of my November 25, 2010 blog post:
In my generation, we have 13 cousins. At 43, I am the second oldest. The
first five of us are very close in age and grew up together.
My 41-year-old cousin Paul, the youngest of us five, has been battling colon and liver cancer for the last six months or so.
In person, via email and via Caring Bridge, he keeps us updated on his condition.
----------------------
I am now 45; Paul is now 43. He is still battling color and liver cancer. From what I have heard, but not from him because he doesn't like to discuss it, he is regularly going to MD Anderson as well as getting treatment here in New Orleans.
While his mom - my Aunt Barbara - was going through the final stages of hospice, her four kids watched over her. She was staying at my cousin David's house, but passed while Paul was watching over her. (David and his wife Becki were out of town for the Easter weekend.)
Here is Paul's Caring Bridge update, posted today - three weeks to the day since his mom died:
It’s
been over two weeks since the death of my mother, and I think that I may now
have enough clarity on the event to sit down and write. I once said of my
cancer and the ensuing events, that it brought no epiphanies to my life and its
purpose. I experienced no parting of the clouds with a booming voice of
instructions or recurring dream that clearly showed me the way. I had not
expected such events, so the lack thereof brought no disappointment. What
the tragedy of my mother and my cancer ordeal has revealed is that we are all
innately prepared to deal with adversity. The choice to use this ability is
solely our own. This fact was once again confirmed by my mother spending her
last two months of life under the constant loving care of my brother and sister-in-law.
Without a moment’s hesitation they took on tasks and duties that 6 months ago
they would have flatly denied having the capacity to handle. It is this
capacity that separates us and defines our character. It seems to be a
tailored opinion that we would fail to rise to an adverse situation, but it is
my conviction that it is our nature that overrules our conditioning.
I
will say only a few things about the actual passing of my mother and what I
have taken from that experience. I guess my most powerful emotion would be how
natural death is. The actual moment of her passing felt so right and so
peaceful that you could feel nothing but relief. The body is an amazing machine
that wants to live and will fight so hard to do so, but there was a defining
moment around 2:00 in the morning where her death was imminent and her body
just didn’t want to let go. It was when I felt the most pain for her fight. I
just wanted it to be over. I wanted her body to let her die and free her of
this suffering. Two hours later her struggling calmed and her breathing settled
to almost normal. It was a moment I will never forget. The room went from one
of torture and anguish to stark silence. She was gone and there was such an
emotion of rightness about it all.
As
a families go, I could not be more proud to belong to such a group of people.
Aunts, Uncles, cousins and friends all took part in the last two months of my
mom’s life. Mom got to see how much she was loved and experienced how she affected
so many. We celebrated her life with a crawfish boil and blaring Cajun music.
We all cried a little but laughing is so much easier. There are times when I
pass by her number on my phone and wish that she would have left a greeting
that I could listen too but Mom was not the most technically gifted person in
the world, and I’ll just have to settle for the number. I miss the little
things most and those are the hardest because they can’t be anticipated. They
pop-up on me like a shiver and demand a moment of reflection. She was the
only Mom I will ever have, and I was lucky enough to tell her so.
-----------------------------
During our Memorial Crawfish Boil, many members of our family stood up to speak about Barbara. Here is Paul's contribution...
--------------------------
Barbara is gone but not forgotten. Let's now work toward that same sentence not be about Paul...
Friday, April 27, 2012
Song: "Never Let You Go"
I bought an mp3 player recently and I'm filling it with Walking Songs. So I can start walking more. I know I need to lose some weight. Music is - as usual - the key to my current project.
I have a longer blog post planned with a list of all my walking songs. For now, here is one...
My favorite song by a band that I occasionally listen to. But the song regularly steady rotation on my Media Monkey.
First, a live version that I found (with a 10-year-old guest guitarist - the son of one of the members)...
And the video for the original version...
I do like other songs by Third Eye Blind. But that's for another day too.
I have a longer blog post planned with a list of all my walking songs. For now, here is one...
My favorite song by a band that I occasionally listen to. But the song regularly steady rotation on my Media Monkey.
First, a live version that I found (with a 10-year-old guest guitarist - the son of one of the members)...
And the video for the original version...
I do like other songs by Third Eye Blind. But that's for another day too.
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Happy Easter
Happy (Alien) Easter, Everyone!
Speaking of - the Alien movies, not Easter - have you seen the latest Prometheus trailer?
Speaking of - the Alien movies, not Easter - have you seen the latest Prometheus trailer?
Aunt Barbara
My Aunt Barbara died late last night. Brain Cancer.
A month or so ago, she was moved to my cousin David and his wife Becki's house. David and Becki left for Monroe yesterday afternoon, for a short Easter vacation. My cousin Paul and his wife Sarah took over the vigil over Barbara.
Email at 5:08 am this morning from Paul:
Mom has passed. Thank you to everyone. I'm so proud to belong to this family. I'm just so grateful of how this tragedy was met.
Email at 5:34 am this morning from Paul:
P.S. You may want to think twice before asking Sarah and I to baby-parent sit. Obviously we are not very good at it.
Our family is great a laughing through the tears.
------------------------------
Posted by my sister Claudia on Facebook last night:
-------------------------
Let me take all this in and I may post more about it later.
A month or so ago, she was moved to my cousin David and his wife Becki's house. David and Becki left for Monroe yesterday afternoon, for a short Easter vacation. My cousin Paul and his wife Sarah took over the vigil over Barbara.
Email at 5:08 am this morning from Paul:
Mom has passed. Thank you to everyone. I'm so proud to belong to this family. I'm just so grateful of how this tragedy was met.
Email at 5:34 am this morning from Paul:
P.S. You may want to think twice before asking Sarah and I to baby-parent sit. Obviously we are not very good at it.
Our family is great a laughing through the tears.
------------------------------
Posted by my sister Claudia on Facebook last night:
-------------------------
Let me take all this in and I may post more about it later.
Monday, March 26, 2012
News Article: The Weinstein Company Will Release 'Bully' Unrated
The Weinstein Company will release the film Bully unrated on March 30 after the MPAA refused to budge on its 'R' rating on the film, according to a press release received by Movieline:
It will be up to movie theaters to decide whether or not to let minors see it.
Here's the trailer to the film...
Furthering proof that the R rating for some
language is inappropriate for a film that’s meant to educate and help
parents, teachers, school officials and children with what’s become an
epidemic in schools around the country, the fight against the rating
continues on. The outpour of support by politicians, schools, parents,
celebrities and activists for the film’s mission to be seen by those it
was made for – children – has been overwhelming. Nearly half a million
people have signed Michigan high school student and former bullying
victim Katy Butler’s petition on Change.org to urge the MPAA to lower
the rating.
Said BULLY Director Lee Hirsch, “The small
amount of language in the film that’s responsible for the R rating is
there because it’s real. It’s what the children who are victims of
bullying face on most days. All of our supporters see that, and we’re
grateful for the support we’ve received across the board. I know the
kids will come, so it’s up to the theaters to let them in.”
Here's the trailer to the film...
Friday, February 24, 2012
FU Cancer
My Dad has been battling prostate cancer since right before Katrina (2005). The doctors removed his prostate in October 2005 and supposedly the cancer with it. His cancer returned about a year ago. He currently gets treatment five days a week.
He says, "I guess cancer doesn't grow on the weekends or holidays. And apparently you don't need a prostate to have prostate cancer."
My Dad is 76, but is quite active. I realize that I'm going to lose him soon-ish, but am not ready for that day yet.
My cousin Paul - three years younger than I am - has been battling colon and liver cancer for over three years. The doctors keep giving him a positive diagnosis - and then the cancer spreads or comes back. He's 41 years old. 41. He says that if this fifth regiment of treatment doesn't work, he's giving up. We don't believe him - and I really don't hope he's serious.
My aunt Barbara - Paul's mom, and my Mom's younger (66-year-old) sister - has been battling brain cancer for the last year. Her PET scan came back two weeks ago: The cancer has spread throughout her body. Her doctor says that she has single digit months to live. She is living with my cousin David - a doctor - and his gorgeous, patient wife Becki on the Northshore for now. The day before Mardi Gras (three days ago), however, she was admitted to the hospital for an irregular heartbeat. She was moved from the ICU to the "regular" hospital on Wednesday afternoon.
Carlos and I visited with Barbara on Ash Wednesday, while she was still in ICU. She is still Barbara, but we can tell that she is beginning to forget things: A physical therapist stopped in while we were visiting. While attempting to answer questions, Barbara sometimes deferred to Becki. Sample question: "How do you exercise daily?" Barbara wasn't sure and looked toward Becki for the answer.
Another update another day. I have more to add to this story, but I'm angry and upset right now - so have to move on.
He says, "I guess cancer doesn't grow on the weekends or holidays. And apparently you don't need a prostate to have prostate cancer."
My Dad is 76, but is quite active. I realize that I'm going to lose him soon-ish, but am not ready for that day yet.
My cousin Paul - three years younger than I am - has been battling colon and liver cancer for over three years. The doctors keep giving him a positive diagnosis - and then the cancer spreads or comes back. He's 41 years old. 41. He says that if this fifth regiment of treatment doesn't work, he's giving up. We don't believe him - and I really don't hope he's serious.
My aunt Barbara - Paul's mom, and my Mom's younger (66-year-old) sister - has been battling brain cancer for the last year. Her PET scan came back two weeks ago: The cancer has spread throughout her body. Her doctor says that she has single digit months to live. She is living with my cousin David - a doctor - and his gorgeous, patient wife Becki on the Northshore for now. The day before Mardi Gras (three days ago), however, she was admitted to the hospital for an irregular heartbeat. She was moved from the ICU to the "regular" hospital on Wednesday afternoon.
Carlos and I visited with Barbara on Ash Wednesday, while she was still in ICU. She is still Barbara, but we can tell that she is beginning to forget things: A physical therapist stopped in while we were visiting. While attempting to answer questions, Barbara sometimes deferred to Becki. Sample question: "How do you exercise daily?" Barbara wasn't sure and looked toward Becki for the answer.
Another update another day. I have more to add to this story, but I'm angry and upset right now - so have to move on.
Mardi Gras
Work has been stressful for the last month: I was transferred to another department, and the changes are challenging and ongoing. In the midst of all the upheaval, we had Mardi Gras. In this post, I had planned to post about Mardi Gras and complain about my job. Then I came across this blog post - which put all my complaining into perspective.
-----------------------------------
Each night, after she listed her daily gratitudes and wrote in her diary, she would find the countdown calender drawn on pink paper and dressed in white, silver, purple, and red glitter. With her very special pen, she would carefully cross off one more day, informing me of the new countdown as she called out wishes of sweet dreams. As the countdown slimmed from a month, to a week, and then to days, her excitement grew.
“I don’t know if I should wear a costume this year or not, Mama,” she contemplated in the middle of a lesson on polygons for her sixth grade math class.
“Mama. do you think I will get a shoe?”
“What do you think the floats will look like?”
“Which book should I bring with me to read while we wait?”
“Should I take pictures with my cell phone?”
“I am so excited for beads, Mama!”
She was preoccupied with the parade, the Krewe of Muses, and our Mardi Gras holiday.
Since our first parades as New Orleanians a few years ago, our Mardi Gras holiday has consisted of Muses on Thursday and d’Etat on Friday. Having a spouse working in the restaurant business, Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras were never spent together – he is busy insuring everyone else has their spirits high on these two special days. And because my daughter is a high-functioning autistic child, we stayed away from the crowds of the super krewes. Just in case.
We have always watched the parades along the extended route, sometimes called the family zone, and it has been an enjoyable experience. We have reconnected with old friends, exchanging Mardi Gras wishes while catching up with the latest changes in our lives, and have met many new friends. My daughter has played along strangers, created art while patiently waiting for the show to start, and read her first Nancy Drew book along the parade route. Through the challenges that we sometimes face throughout the year, issues dealing with social and sensory issues, Mardi Gras and Muses was the moment of the year where it all faded away, where we were a normal family embracing the culture in our new city, creating memories of our new life.
As we sat on the sidewalk along the parade route and patiently waited for start time, we talked about what we thought we would see, which bands we loved listening to best, and whether Elvis would make an appearance on his moped. We watched Pussyfooters pass by on foot, 610 Stompers in full uniform, and a few Bearded Oysters with high hair weaving through the crowd. As parade time approached, as cliche as it sounds, there was a sparkle in my daughter’s eye and a smile so big, it made me wish that she could spend her life this happy – always.
And then they came. Despite sitting on the ground, our feet on the street, they came in front of us, a gaggle of college kids holding to-go cups full of booze, cigarettes in hand, f-bombs flying out of their mouths with no care who was around them. Once the parade started, we stood, them still in the street. Then the first marching band hit the road, forcing us all to back up, my daughter getting lost in a sea of twenty-somethings drinking a little too much. Some were local, others were not. She looked at me, her eyes tense.
“Mama, I can’t see. And that guy keeps touching me with his beer.”
Despite her 5′ 6′ frame, she was surrounded by young adults too involved in gossiping about who was going to be screwing who, which picture they had on their phones that were “too epic’ to not post on Facebook, and preoccupied by the booze pouring out of their red SOLO cups.
One boy, over 6 foot, came dangerously close to starting my daughter’s hair on fire. Only one float had passed by.
“Excuse me, Sir,” I said, ” do you think you could move over a bit. My daughter cannot see, you’ve spilled some beer on her, and you almost got her with your cigarette.”
He looked at me blankly, then looked at her. He looked at my daughter from head to toe, staring at the patch on her coat that would indicate she was autistic to medical personal should an emergency arise. He sneered at me before laughing in my face.
I put my arms around my daughter, warming her up, protecting her, whispering in her ear.
The tall man with the bear hat on his head paid no mind to us. He didn’t move, either.
“Hey, man! I need to move. This woman is bitching at me because her retard daughter can’t see the parade!” he shouted to a kid a few feet away.
----------------------
You can read the rest of the post and all the comments here. I assure you that you'll be moved.
-----------------------------------
Each night, after she listed her daily gratitudes and wrote in her diary, she would find the countdown calender drawn on pink paper and dressed in white, silver, purple, and red glitter. With her very special pen, she would carefully cross off one more day, informing me of the new countdown as she called out wishes of sweet dreams. As the countdown slimmed from a month, to a week, and then to days, her excitement grew.
“I don’t know if I should wear a costume this year or not, Mama,” she contemplated in the middle of a lesson on polygons for her sixth grade math class.
“Mama. do you think I will get a shoe?”
“What do you think the floats will look like?”
“Which book should I bring with me to read while we wait?”
“Should I take pictures with my cell phone?”
“I am so excited for beads, Mama!”
She was preoccupied with the parade, the Krewe of Muses, and our Mardi Gras holiday.
Since our first parades as New Orleanians a few years ago, our Mardi Gras holiday has consisted of Muses on Thursday and d’Etat on Friday. Having a spouse working in the restaurant business, Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras were never spent together – he is busy insuring everyone else has their spirits high on these two special days. And because my daughter is a high-functioning autistic child, we stayed away from the crowds of the super krewes. Just in case.
We have always watched the parades along the extended route, sometimes called the family zone, and it has been an enjoyable experience. We have reconnected with old friends, exchanging Mardi Gras wishes while catching up with the latest changes in our lives, and have met many new friends. My daughter has played along strangers, created art while patiently waiting for the show to start, and read her first Nancy Drew book along the parade route. Through the challenges that we sometimes face throughout the year, issues dealing with social and sensory issues, Mardi Gras and Muses was the moment of the year where it all faded away, where we were a normal family embracing the culture in our new city, creating memories of our new life.
As we sat on the sidewalk along the parade route and patiently waited for start time, we talked about what we thought we would see, which bands we loved listening to best, and whether Elvis would make an appearance on his moped. We watched Pussyfooters pass by on foot, 610 Stompers in full uniform, and a few Bearded Oysters with high hair weaving through the crowd. As parade time approached, as cliche as it sounds, there was a sparkle in my daughter’s eye and a smile so big, it made me wish that she could spend her life this happy – always.
And then they came. Despite sitting on the ground, our feet on the street, they came in front of us, a gaggle of college kids holding to-go cups full of booze, cigarettes in hand, f-bombs flying out of their mouths with no care who was around them. Once the parade started, we stood, them still in the street. Then the first marching band hit the road, forcing us all to back up, my daughter getting lost in a sea of twenty-somethings drinking a little too much. Some were local, others were not. She looked at me, her eyes tense.
“Mama, I can’t see. And that guy keeps touching me with his beer.”
Despite her 5′ 6′ frame, she was surrounded by young adults too involved in gossiping about who was going to be screwing who, which picture they had on their phones that were “too epic’ to not post on Facebook, and preoccupied by the booze pouring out of their red SOLO cups.
One boy, over 6 foot, came dangerously close to starting my daughter’s hair on fire. Only one float had passed by.
“Excuse me, Sir,” I said, ” do you think you could move over a bit. My daughter cannot see, you’ve spilled some beer on her, and you almost got her with your cigarette.”
He looked at me blankly, then looked at her. He looked at my daughter from head to toe, staring at the patch on her coat that would indicate she was autistic to medical personal should an emergency arise. He sneered at me before laughing in my face.
I put my arms around my daughter, warming her up, protecting her, whispering in her ear.
The tall man with the bear hat on his head paid no mind to us. He didn’t move, either.
“Hey, man! I need to move. This woman is bitching at me because her retard daughter can’t see the parade!” he shouted to a kid a few feet away.
----------------------
You can read the rest of the post and all the comments here. I assure you that you'll be moved.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Kristy McNichol Comes Out
I've suspected for years...
From an article at People.com
Kristy McNichol Wants to "Be Open About Who I Am"
Kristy McNichol has been out of the public eye for 20 years. Now she's chosen to come out – to try to help kids who are being bullied.
McNichol, 49, who has lived with her partner Martie Allen, also 49, (photo of both below) for the past two decades, decided to make a statement about her sexuality and share this photo because she is "approaching 50" and wants to "be open about who I am."
She "is very sad about kids being bullied," her publicist Jeff Ballard tells PEOPLE. "She hopes that coming out can help kids who need support. She would like to help others who feel different."
Best known for her Emmy Award-winning role as Buddy Lawrence in the '70s show Family and later as Barbara Weston in Empty Nest, McNichol left it all behind when she dropped out of Hollywood to focus on her health.
Done with acting, McNichol spends her time focusing on tennis, yoga, travel and raising her beloved miniature dachshunds. "She is very happy and healthy," says Ballard. "And she enjoys living a very private life."
From an article at People.com
Kristy McNichol Wants to "Be Open About Who I Am"
Kristy McNichol has been out of the public eye for 20 years. Now she's chosen to come out – to try to help kids who are being bullied.
McNichol, 49, who has lived with her partner Martie Allen, also 49, (photo of both below) for the past two decades, decided to make a statement about her sexuality and share this photo because she is "approaching 50" and wants to "be open about who I am."
She "is very sad about kids being bullied," her publicist Jeff Ballard tells PEOPLE. "She hopes that coming out can help kids who need support. She would like to help others who feel different."
Best known for her Emmy Award-winning role as Buddy Lawrence in the '70s show Family and later as Barbara Weston in Empty Nest, McNichol left it all behind when she dropped out of Hollywood to focus on her health.
Done with acting, McNichol spends her time focusing on tennis, yoga, travel and raising her beloved miniature dachshunds. "She is very happy and healthy," says Ballard. "And she enjoys living a very private life."
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