A Very Different Thanksgiving

I dropped my wife and kids off at the airport tonight. They are now on a plane to Dallas, to spend Thanksgiving with my in-laws. It is the first Thanksgiving we’ll be apart.

Tomorrow night, my niece Char (Harlan’s daughter) arrives from LA. Her mother, Gail, is already in Phoenix, visiting a friend. The three of us will be heading up the hill to Flagstaff with my other niece, Tess (Cece’s daughter). Thanksgiving at Cece’s house in Flagstaff has been our tradition, but this year is different. This year, there is no Cece.

For me, Cece and Thanksgiving are permanently bound together. The only time I recall missing Thanksgiving with Cece and her family was the year her husband Steve passed. Cece, like my mother, was an excellent cook, and she always prepared a couple of my mother’s staple recipes for the occasion: carrot ring and kugel. My contribution to the meal was usually limited to a pumpkin pie or pumpkin cheesecake, expertly prepared by the bakers at Costco.

Holidays for me inevitably contain a moment of profound sadness, when I am surrounded by family, but get present to those who have passed. This year, I am emotional in anticipation, resisting the inevitable sadness, and yet curious as to how it will be this year and for years to come. A fine tradition has ended. What will be born from its ashes?

More Birthdays!

Yesterday, August 24th, would have been my brother Harlan’s 53rd birthday. It was also my friend Jenifer Anseth’s birthday, and I celebrated the occasion with an e-card, a song on her voicemail, and various Twitter and Facebook posts. Birthdays are great for many reasons, not the least of which is the opportunity to torture my friends with a song.

If you read my post, I’m Not Fighting Cancer Anymore, you know that I have been a longtime supporter of the American Cancer Society. Around the time of my birthday, when my sister Cece was reaching the end of her life, ACS came out with a great new marketing campaign, More Birthdays! I meant to write about it back then, but I was focused on being with Cece as she ended her time with us. This campaign is, in my opinion, a brilliant shift for the American Cancer Society. Rather than focusing on the negative fight against cancer, we can focus on the positive, More Birthdays! ACS is now the official sponsor of my birthday, and I encourage you all to rally in support of More Birthdays!

My thanks to whoever at ACS came up with this new campaign. It is a simple, and brilliant change in context.

Cece’s Beautiful Life

My sister, Cece Cook, died peacefully at 9:23 A.M. on May 13th, 2009, 10 days shy of her 50th birthday. As she slipped away to eternal peace, her daughter Tess held her hand, and I stroked her hair. Her friend and neighbor Sybil Smith sat on the cot with Ana Novak, and Alexis Johnson stood to the side. Cece and Tess had decorated the room comfortably with items from their home, including a recent painting by Tess’s friend Jenna, depicting Cece and Steve as butterflies, and Tess as a caterpillar. The staff at The Olivia White Hospice Home, including Head Hospice Nurse Patti Kavanaugh, saw to it that Cece’s final days were filled with comfort and love, and that all of her wishes were honored.

Cece created, planned and executed the end of her life flawlessly, indicative of the powerful woman she was. Her foremost goal was always to be certain that her sweet girl Tess would have the love and support needed to carry on without her parents. She put together a team, led by Sybil, to make sure that everything was handled. She engaged the parents of Tess’s best friend, Emily Johnson, to act as Tess’s guardian until she turns 18 this September. I had the privilege of meeting Emily’s parents, Alexis Johnson and Amy Jelliffe, this week. Tess couldn’t be in better hands. More importantly, Tess has grown into a strong, independent, capable and beautiful young woman. Cece was a great Mom.

Tess has an amazing group of friends, in addition to Emily there is Mara (Ana’s daughter), Allison, Jenna, Sarah, Rachel and Jessica. They all gathered in Cece’s room, laid flowers in her hands, played music from her ipod and sang along. Later, we gathered at the funeral home, and as Cece’s body was being cremated, I recited the Mourner’s Kaddish, and we all joined in the 23rd Psalm.

Tess and friends

If it’s not already apparent, what  made Cece’s life so beautiful were the wonderful people she attracted. As Sybil stated, it takes a village, and the Flagstaff village surrounding Cece and Tess has my heartfelt gratitude forever. Steve’s brother Kevin and wife Cely, stepson Johnathan and wife Siri, Ana, Vickie, Amy and Alexis, Ken, and countless others that I never met, all have been there when needed. You will never know how comforting it was for me to know that you were there for Cece when I was home tending to my family in Phoenix.

When you became Cece’s friend, you were a friend for life.  Cece was blessed to remain close to many of her friends from her youth. Wendy Maayan (Segal), Sue Lopez, Wendi Wert, Lori Maloney (Schnitzer), Dan and Marni Ribnick, Julie Fitchett, Tim Weil, and Jeff Nerenberg, to name a few. Please don’t feel slighted if you’re not listed here, I am including you too. I just can’t remember/list all of you.

Cece and Wendy

Cece and Sue

Slumber Party 1971

Family was central in Cece’s life, and while no one was more important to her than Tess, our niece Charlotte (Harlan’s daughter), held a special place in her heart. Along with her mother Gail, Char, Cece and Tess were able to spend some great quality time together over the years. Char lost both her father and step-father to cancer, and during her recent visit to Flagstaff, Char and Tess developed a special bond.

Char and Tess

My family had the pleasure of spending every Thanksgiving but one with Cece over the years. The trek up the hill typically included me falling asleep on the couch while Steve tossed Aaron and Gabriella around in the park across the street, with Jenine watching. Char did her best to join us, and we were often accompanied by Ted and Butsy (Harriet) Harlem. The Harlems were best friends with our parents from Minneapolis, following them to Arizona not too long after they moved. There are no words sufficient to express how wonderful it is to have Ted and Butsy in our lives. Thanksgivings will not be the same.

Butsy and Jenine

Ted Harlem and Aaron

Gabriella, Tess, Cece, Char and Emily

While separated by many miles, Cece maintained a great relationship with our sister Barb and her family. We were able to attend her daughter Catherine’s wedding a couple of years ago, reconnecting with Craig, Celia, Janet, and David. Celia and her husband Ken, along with daughter Ellie were able to visit again this January, just before Cece landed in ICU.

Cece’s beautiful life was filled with love. As she looks down on us from up above with our Mom and Dad, Harlan, and Steve, she is sending her light, love and eternal peace to all of us left here on Earth. While I know that I will miss her deeply, I am comforted to know that she created and completed a beautiful life. All is perfect in the order of the universe.

Surrendering

I pulled into Flagstaff just before 6pm Sunday night, heading straight to the Olivia White Hospice Home where Cece is staying. She just completed a nice visit with Sue and Bob Lopez, whom she collaborated with on “My Sweet Girl“.  She surprisingly had plenty of energy left after such a busy weekend, and we visited for about an hour. As much as I am comforted by the amazing support group that Cece and Tess have in Flagstaff (thank you Sybil and Kevin and all of Tess’s great friends), it is hard to be so far away from her. We had a great conversation, and I am clear that I came at the right time.

Cece and I talked about whether it still mattered to her to try to make it to June 5th for Tess’s graduation. It doesn’t. She is ready to go, although we weren’t so sure that her body is ready to follow.  This morning she conferred with her nurse, and they made some adjustments to her medications based on her new choice. I spent the day with her, including reviewing some old family photos. Her memory for people is still amazing. Tess’s uncle Kevin and I went to the house and brought back her “meditation chair”, so that she could be more comfortable in her room.

By late afternoon, she tired and took a nap. I ran out, grabbed some lunch and came back to find her still asleep. When she awoke, she was not the same person I had been with earlier in the day. She was moving in slow motion, and the decline continued through the evening. While I can’t speak for them, I think Sybil and Tess were both shocked by the difference from the day before.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Cece may have weeks left, days, or only hours. The sudden decline could be related to the change in her meds, but I think she has simply surrendered to the universe. Peace.

My Sweet Girl

If you read my previous post “I’m not fighting cancer anymore!” then you know that my sister Cece has been fighting lung cancer for over 4.5 yrs. If you haven’t read that post, please take a moment to read the first paragraph, so that you will have the necessary background info.

In January, we almost lost Cece when she went into septic shock. She recovered, and subsequently visited her old college roomate and friend Sue Lopez. Sue and her husband Bob are musicians that perform together as Special Blend. Cece and Sue collaborated to write My Sweet Girl.

Cece wrote the lyrics, Sue the music, and Bob produced it.

Cece Cook and her daughter, Tess Mullaney

We’ll be playing this song during the Luminaria Ceremony at the Relay for Life of Central Phoenix. I’m certainly about as biased as a person could be, but I think this song is beautiful, and we want to share it and make it available to the world. It is a gift from Cece to Tess, but I think it speaks to all of us who have been touched by cancer. Please use My Sweet Girl as you see fit. It is an honor to Cece’s courage, grace and committment to Tess. Tess will be graduating from Flagstaff High School on June 5th, and with your prayers, Cece will be there to share this achievement.

I’m not fighting cancer anymore!

I’m no fan of Cancer. Cancer has taken an extraordinary toll on my family. I lost my mother (Shirley) and my brother (Harlan) to lung cancer. Harlan was only 44 when he passed. My sister Cece was diagnosed with lung cancer about 4.5 years ago. Cece has been fighting hard to stick around to see her daughter Tess graduate from high school this summer, but recently began receiving respite care from hospice. Cece’s husband Steve, Tess’s father, passed from esophageal cancer about 3.5 years ago. Two years ago we lost my cousin, Robert, and my wife’s best friend, Jackie. This is a partial list, the other relatives, friends and business associates I’ve lost are too numerous to mention.  I also have a long list of people who’ve survived cancer. However, in my experience, cancer represents a death certificate, with only the date left unfilled.

All of this cancer in my life propelled me to take action, to do something to make a difference. In 2002, my family participated in a Relay for Life for the first time. I fell in love with the Luminaria Ceremony. I was unprepared for how it moved me, seeing all of the bags lit up around the track, and listening to the dedications read over the PA system. I became a fan of Relay, initially because I wanted everyone to experience the Luminaria Ceremony. When our local Relay stumbled two years later, I declared that it wouldn’t go that way again. I placed a fateful call to the American Cancer Society’s Phoenix office, and unwittingly bought myself a 4 year stint as Event Chair of the Relay for Life of Central Phoenix. As Event Chair, ACS offered me an exceptional level of training, and I came to learn that my goals and commitments were very much in line with theirs. Even more importantly, I became aware that I was part of a larger community of people who shared my passion to make a difference in the lives of those touched by this disease. There were times when I felt that my contribution was insignificant, that I really didn’t make a difference, until I became clear that Relay was much bigger than me. Every little bit adds up to a larger whole. This year Relay is celebrating its 25th Anniversary. Communities around the world come together to generate their own Relays and make a difference in the fight against cancer.

What you resist, persists. - Carl Jung

For years, I expressed my commitment to fighting cancer with this phrase: “I am commited to a world where our friends and family don’t suffer from cancer.” This worked pretty well for me, but I had a nagging concern. You see, I believe that whatever it is I focus on, I bring into my life. Whether you call that the “Law of Attraction” from The Secret, or refer back as I do to “Think and Grow Rich” by Napoleon Hill, it is all the same to me. I began to wonder what I was attracting to my life in my efforts to fight cancer and make a difference. Even with that concern, I wasn’t able to find an alternative expression of my commitment that felt right to me. Now though, as Cece runs out of treatment options and her condition deteriorates, I am clear that fighting cancer no longer works for me. I will no longer resist cancer. Cancer will do what it does. My commitment now is to honor all those touched by cancer.

Context is decisive.

The context of “a world where our friends and family don’t suffer from cancer” presences suffering. “Honoring all those touched by cancer” presences honor. For me, this is a fundamental shift in context. The actions I take may not change at all. There is simply no room for suffering. However long Cece has left, I will spend in the presence of honor, rather than suffering. It also gives me the freedom to honor myself, and any emotions that I experience along the way. As I think about it, bringing honor to any conversation ought to make a difference.

This doesn’t mean I’ve stopped fighting to make a difference. This new commitment is still fully in line with Relay for Life and the American Cancer Society. Relay’s theme is “Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back.” This year I am Sponsorship Chair of our Relay, and the Team Captain of the Tough Cookies, dedicated to honoring Cece. I invite you to visit my Relay Page and make a donation, or dedicate a luminaria.  Better yet, if you live in Phoenix, join a team or form your own to honor your loved ones who’ve been touched by cancer.

With regard to fighting back, I am completely up for fighting with politicians who try to cut budgets for cancer screenings, or who want to limit research. Stupid policies do not honor those who have been touched by cancer. That’s why I belong to ACS CAN, the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network, which represents the Fight Back component of the Relay theme. ACS Can has been instrumental in passing clean indoor air legislation around the country.

Looking at what I’ve just written, I may need to re-evaluate my context for politician. But for now, I’m just fine with it.

Thank you,

Ted