Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Midwest Images
As promised, here are some photos from our trip to Omaha (College World Series) and to South Dakota (Badlands National Park, Black Hills and Mt. Rushmore).
'I'm in Nebraska, you're in Iowa.'
Friendly fish
Omaha zoo
Cheering the Dores
Black Hills train ride
Obligatory Rushmore shot
Badlands hiking
Badlands ladder climbing
'I'm in Nebraska, you're in Iowa.'
Friendly fish
Omaha zoo
Cheering the Dores
Black Hills train ride
Obligatory Rushmore shot
Badlands hiking
Badlands ladder climbing
Friday, July 8, 2011
A Month Later
I miss her more than I imagined. I miss her more than words can convey.
The gaping hole in our lives is enormous. It seems to be opening, in fact, not closing. But before I talk about us, I want to talk about Dori.
Between her funeral and visitation, we think nearly 1,000 friends and family came to pay tribute. We thank everyone for the support, love and especially prayers. They provide great comfort. Most of our comfort comes from knowing she has no more pain, no more anxiety. Just joy with Him, so richly deserved.
Dori and I were able to talk about her funeral in advance. She wanted violins, so two of the best violinists in the area played beautifully. I wanted elegant, delicate flowers; the arrangements of violet, pink and white were impeccably her. The music was divine, led by the cherubic singing of Hannah, a school teacher of our children. We thank Rebecca at our church and Father Kibby for the wonderful jobs they did.
Deacon Mark Faulkner, my dear friend who knew Dori well, delivered a eulogy for the ages. I will post it at the end here, but the most poignant moment came when he left the pulpit, approached the children and me to within 15 feet, and delivered the last several minutes verbatim with no notes. He spoke of her in a way only a friend can … He knew her well and truly felt our loss, but fought through his own emotions to tell us what we needed to hear. If you were there, you were moved.
What Dori did for us – from the day I met her to the day she died – was give us the best lives ever. Her unselfish, devoted nature carried us every day. Her eulogy and her funeral captured her angelic spirit, her tremendous grace and her greatness. I miss her warm smile and her distinct laugh, which were mentioned prominently in the eulogy. But I also miss her loving, daily hugs. She fit perfectly. I miss holding her cold hands, which always refreshed my always warm hands. I miss her adorable nose freckle, her chestnut brown eyes and her sweet floral-like aroma.
I miss her wise counsel tremendously, but Dori knew what to do about that. A few weeks before she died, she created “Advice for a Happy Life: Love to Kathryn and Will,” a hardback book for the children. Combining family photos and her astute words, the book is a guiding light for our children. I read and quote it often, grateful to have her direction, encouragement and spirit with me in this way as I raise two children on my own. Some of her wise words in the book are also in the eulogy.
That night after the funeral, Vanderbilt played a super-regional opening game, the biggest baseball game probably in the school’s history. Will wanted to go, so we did, watching the Commodores win with ease. Many friends know Coach Tim Corbin has been very supportive of Dori and our family the last four years. He visited her at Vanderbilt hospital, called her in Houston, emailed and texted me from time to time, and most especially has been very supportive of Will and Kathryn.
This busy man, on probably the biggest day of his life, came to her funeral with his wife Maggie. After the win that night, he said he wanted us to be with the team in Omaha at the College World Series, if we were up for it. Before the bus left for the airport a few days later, he presented Will with an authentic baseball jersey. In Omaha, he texted to see how we were doing and to see if he could do anything else. Tim Corbin isn’t just a great baseball coach. He is one of many angels watching over my family. I love him for loving Dori the way he did, for being at her funeral with his soulmate, and for smiling at and supporting my children.
The nine-day trip to Omaha was fun, a true escape. We went to their stellar zoo, enjoyed their Strategic Air Command Museum, their vibrant Old Market, and a water park inside the hotel only 100 yards from the ballpark. Uncle Al, Will’s godfather, was with us the first five days. We cheered loudly for our team, and apparently were on ESPN many times, according to dozens of texts and voicemails from friends. That was how we honored Dori, cheering for a team she loved, a team of young role models worthy of praise and support.
After Vanderbilt was eliminated by Florida after a great run, the kids and I drove to South Dakota. We toured and hiked the Badlands National Park, observed bison herds and prairie dog towns, took a train ride through the Black Hills, scaled Harney Peak (the highest mountain between the Rockies and Alps at 7,200 feet), and visited Mt. Rushmore. Driving the Midwest was therapeutic because we were enjoying God’s creation, something Dori loved very much.
Today, we are struggling. We are home, and our house feels empty in many ways. We’re all doing forms of grief counseling. I started the weekly “Grieving Spouses” group at Gilda’s Club, something Dori wanted me to do. Dori’s sister Kathy and I are told we’ll find a “new normal” at some point. A new normal? How do you package that up and sell it? Time is supposed to help. Remembering Dori’s eternal joy is, too. All I know is things aren’t great right now. I’d be lying if I said they were.
The kids and I are having OK days and bad days. Today, we rode our bikes for more than an hour, which was good. Down time tends to be tougher time. Exercise and activity aren’t a panacea, but they help a lot. I have prepared and posted a marathon training schedule to our refrigerator. Yes, I am running another marathon. More on that later this month. I have reintroduced structure in my life, and am encouraging and doing the same for our kids.
Here’s the eulogy. I’ll post photos of the Midwest trip soon.
FUNERAL for DORI BROWN June 10, 2011
Deacon Mark Faulkner
First Reading Isaiah 40: 28-31
Second Reading Colossians 2: 1-7
Gospel Reading John 16: 19-24
The Gospel reading we just heard was marked in Dori’s Bible as one of her favorites and Jim selected it today for how it poignantly speaks to us TODAY.
Our Lord showed His disciples and He showed us that death is not the end…that grief will one day give way to joy. So many of us prayed for a miracle of healing for Dori…and it happened TWICE… actually 3 times.
Dori did not have good odds when she was diagnosed with AML 4 years ago. The progression of the disease did not look encouraging on several occasions. But with remarkable spirit and resilience and determination, supported by thousands of prayers and the wonderful caring staff at Vanderbilt ministering to her medically, she was restored to good health and became a miracle girl.
When the disease came back and she found herself in Vanderbilt again, things got especially dark and she was given VERY low odds of survival. I remember breaking down while talking to Jim outside her room on a particular Sunday as we discussed how her blood counts and GVH disease dynamics weren’t doing what they need to, and if they didn’t, she probably wouldn’t make it.
And when he next posted on Caring Bridge, it was as if a tsunami of prayers stormed heaven and for little apparent reason, her counts started rising and her situation completely and unexpectedly turned around. She was restored again to good health and became a 2-time miracle girl.
And when this awful disease came back again recently, we all prayed for another miracle…a third one…and consistent with this Gospel, our prayers were answered with the ultimate miracle…Dori was given the ultimate miracle of life…eternal health and happiness.
In November of 2007, I gave a homily on perseverance and spoke about St. John of the Cross and Dori…in his book “Dark Night of the Soul” John of the Cross talks about the dawning of new and transcendent life that comes after living through a very dark time. He reminds us that our God promises that in spite of any current darkness, if we just try to persevere, there will ALWAYS be new and greater light and life following.
And I shared this from Dori who was at the time, persevering as she continued to recover from “round one” of leukemia…….[edited]
Dori wrote: “After having been in the hospital over 2 months this summer, I have now been here again for another month…and this stay has been the most difficult physically. Heavy medications that take their toll, high fevers that saps you, Chemo induced mouth sores and a throat too sore to swallow or talk, exhaustion and pain and nausea and rashes…but…I found a nice quote from the diary of Anne Frank...
“I don't think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.”
“I wish that I could say I've been fully living according to that inspirational message these past 30 days, but it’s been so tough. I do know that I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and that is so welcome. I can't wait to walk back into our house, to be able to tuck the kids in bed, to sit on chairs that are not vinyl! To just be home.
“After a very dark period, I do sense a light at the end of the tunnel… Thank you for your support and prayers. I didn't realize feeling good felt so good!”
Love to all of you, Dori
Dori’s sense of new life and new light was correct…that is what awaits us both in this world and in the next if we, like her, persevere, …a brighter life after hardship and the BRIGHTEST life of heaven…Dori had an even brighter outlook, a brighter appreciation…after persevering through her hardships. She laughed even more.
Kathy Robson (sister)
More than anything, Kathy loved Dori’s laugh – which was happy and healthy and beautifully hearty. Dori’s infectious laugh even stymied herself at times. When things got too funny, Dori would be laughing so hard she would go silent, and with happy tears in her eyes, would resort to pointing at the person making her laugh. When Dori’s laughter turned to tears of joy, that only made everyone laugh harder.
Kathy loved how Dori always allowed her as the younger sister to tag along with her Vanderbilt friends, like each spring break. Kathy was always welcome in Dori’s world, no questions asked… that’s a theme many others in Dori’s life would come to learn and appreciate.
Dori and Kathy loved each other in the unique way that only sisters can love, which:
• Strengthened their spirits
• Nourished their children
• Soothed and comforted their friends
• And bolstered men like Jim and Nathan (Kathy’s husband who just read the word).
Their sisterly love brightened this world, and will shine on.
Happy (mother)
Dori’s mother Happy was sweetness to Dori’s soul, she was her guiding light to the great woman she became. Happy’s reassurances and consistent love put Dori on the right path and guided her through both good times and challenging times.
Happy was always proud of Dori’s classy choices, including her pick of the perfect wedding dress that captured her elegance.
Happy is most grateful for Dori’s unwavering support for her, like the red carpet treatment on many Mother’s Days. But you could say that the loving, giving, unselfish Dori rolled out the red carpet for everyone in her life.
Happy helped nurture Dori’s love of violins, like the music that fill this holy chamber today – that love was fostered by the many trips Happy and Dori made to hear the Cincinnati Symphony perform the Nutcracker. Dori loved to hear the strings of violins speak and dance, and wanted her friends to experience that joy. Dori wanted us to hear violins today.
Rick Sawyer (Dad)
Dori’s father, Rick, has similarly vivid memories of her love of music. When Dori walked onto the stage at Princeton High School as the Princeton Orchestra's CONCERTMASTER, he knew Dori could do anything she wanted.
Rick fostered Dori’s deep appreciation of the importance of a great education. Never was he more proud than when she was accepted to Vanderbilt. Dori excelled in school and passed on that gene to Kathryn and Will. It certainly didn’t come from Jim…but he’s given them other great genes and gifts.
One of her dad’s fondest recollections was his surprise to learn how strong his diminutive daughter really was. At Kathryn’s birth, Dori’s epidural didn’t take. Dori, experiencing childbirth the way women used to, and she grabbed his hand so hard it hurt him. Dori had girl power.
And many of you know how much Dori loved the outdoors, she loved her hikes at Radnor Lake, by herself and with her family, or at Beersheba Springs with Jim. But that love of nature didn’t come easy. When Dori and Kathy were young, their dad’s navigation skills failed him on a hike in the Colorado Rockies…not a good place to get lost! And on subsequent family hikes, the sisters always were sure to less than joyfully remark, “Ohhh, here we go hiking again”.
Jim, Kathryn and Will
Dori Sawyer Brown was the devoted friend everyone wants. She loved good people all her life, and good people loved her … at Princeton High School, Vanderbilt University, SunTrust Bank, Junior League, St. Bernard Academy, and Nashville Bank & Trust. She was grace and love personified.
And Dori loved Jim’s family – Rachel, Anne and everyone – loved them like she loved her own, and they returned that love in bundles.
And more than anything, she was the loving mother every child should have. Dori took care of her family in a remarkable way. She lived the right way and taught the right values and principles, which will carry on in her remarkably beautiful children.
She taught the things we know we should do, but that sometimes need to be emphasized…
Work hard.
Love and respect yourself and others.
Cherish the outdoors.
Eat and sleep well.
Have fun, smile and laugh.
Ask someone how she is doing.
Be a good friend and you will have good friends.
Your choices have consequences.
Live within your means.
Show your outer and inner beauty.
Look people in the eye.
Be organized.
Marry someone who shares your values.
Above all, love God from whom all blessings flow.
Dori’s smile, along with her laugh, are two things many of you have said you will always remember about her. Jim has always said he married Dori because of her smile. Her friend Ramsay, who was her classmate from first grade through senior year of high school, e-mailed Dori recently and I would like to share part of that e-mail with you:
“When I met Dori, we were both beginning 1st grade. We would meet at the top of Gunny Hill and walk to school together, very much an uphill walk, and we walked all the way home together too. I remember Dori smiling and laughing every day. Through elementary school, middle and high school, as our paths went different ways, I still remember Dori smiling.
“I also remember her working hard in what looked like a very comfortable way and surrounded by people who obviously cared about her and were so attracted to her. She had that calm magnetism and gentle laugh that everyone felt. I felt it again when Erica and I had dinner with Dori a few years ago in Seattle.
“It is obvious from the posts on the CaringBridge site that you have always had this and you have touched so many. I'm sure it is a quality found in your children in the various ways that they have about them. And I imagine that it is why Jim was so attracted to you and is so devoted to you.”
Ramsay captured the essence of Dori Brown. Dori’s love had no end, just like Christ’s boundless love for us. She emulated Our Lord from her earliest years, and as her faith grew, she walked consistently and devotedly with Him every step of the way.
She carried the burden of disease with a grace and strength that has each of us in awe.
When the leukemia reared up the second time, and I pushed the button in the Vanderbilt elevator for the both dreaded and wonderful11th floor, I had a prevailing thought…and I walked into that [unfortunately] familiar room of Dori’s, I looked at her (and pardon the gutteralism) and said “this sucks”…….she said “yeahhhh, this REALLY sucks”.
The room was already adorned with the loving touches of her kids -- Will and Kathryn, your mom loved all your drawings and messages and pictures…and you know she SO loved you…and I know it doesn’t lessen the grief, but she loves you even MORE now.
She loved all the times with you and especially was cherishing this past month, just hanging out with you, life in it’s simple form, on the back patio, smelling the smells, seeing the flowers so lovingly planted by dear friends, hearing the sounds of your backyard, and just talking with you…
She loved talking to you and marveling at the great kids you are…keep doing that…keep talking to her…she will always love that…it’s hard for us to comprehend, but she is closer to you than ever before and she, in oneness with Our Lord will be with you every step of your lives.
She will be quietly, powerfully, positively praying for you and pulling for you. She is still your mom, and Our Lord and she will help guide you. As St. Paul tells us, the communion of saints and angels of heaven are a cloud of witnesses around us…everyone in heaven is a saint…and so now, for you, she is “Saint Mom”…you have your very own patron saint.
Tell her about everything going on…she wants to hear it…she wants you to know she is still a part of your lives.
As we heard Kathryn, when you were born, it was painful, but after your birth, your mom’s pain gave way to infinite joy and love (just like the Gospel tells us). As your mom was born into heaven this past Tuesday, her pain once again gave way to infinite joy and love.
Jim, over the years I have heard you say on more than one occasion that you “married up” – yep! The beautiful thing is, so did Dori. Your loving devotion to her, as reflected in your blogs and posts to Caring Bridge let us all see that Dori also chose well.
You took your vows to Dori Sawyer and gave us an example of living those vows to the depth of and the way those sacred words have their most full and profound meaning.
Jim, you truly took Dori to be your wife…you beautifully fulfilled your promise to be true to her in good times and in bad…you devotedly cared for her in sickness and in health…and with the fullness of your heart you loved her and honored her all the days of her life.
Dori graced us and so have you. Thank you.
Dori, we love you. Thanks for loving us. You were Light and Truth and Love on earth…and as the Gospel said, our tears will someday turn to joy, because in the eternal span of time, it really won’t be that long before we see you and your smile again. Amen.
The gaping hole in our lives is enormous. It seems to be opening, in fact, not closing. But before I talk about us, I want to talk about Dori.
Between her funeral and visitation, we think nearly 1,000 friends and family came to pay tribute. We thank everyone for the support, love and especially prayers. They provide great comfort. Most of our comfort comes from knowing she has no more pain, no more anxiety. Just joy with Him, so richly deserved.
Dori and I were able to talk about her funeral in advance. She wanted violins, so two of the best violinists in the area played beautifully. I wanted elegant, delicate flowers; the arrangements of violet, pink and white were impeccably her. The music was divine, led by the cherubic singing of Hannah, a school teacher of our children. We thank Rebecca at our church and Father Kibby for the wonderful jobs they did.
Deacon Mark Faulkner, my dear friend who knew Dori well, delivered a eulogy for the ages. I will post it at the end here, but the most poignant moment came when he left the pulpit, approached the children and me to within 15 feet, and delivered the last several minutes verbatim with no notes. He spoke of her in a way only a friend can … He knew her well and truly felt our loss, but fought through his own emotions to tell us what we needed to hear. If you were there, you were moved.
What Dori did for us – from the day I met her to the day she died – was give us the best lives ever. Her unselfish, devoted nature carried us every day. Her eulogy and her funeral captured her angelic spirit, her tremendous grace and her greatness. I miss her warm smile and her distinct laugh, which were mentioned prominently in the eulogy. But I also miss her loving, daily hugs. She fit perfectly. I miss holding her cold hands, which always refreshed my always warm hands. I miss her adorable nose freckle, her chestnut brown eyes and her sweet floral-like aroma.
I miss her wise counsel tremendously, but Dori knew what to do about that. A few weeks before she died, she created “Advice for a Happy Life: Love to Kathryn and Will,” a hardback book for the children. Combining family photos and her astute words, the book is a guiding light for our children. I read and quote it often, grateful to have her direction, encouragement and spirit with me in this way as I raise two children on my own. Some of her wise words in the book are also in the eulogy.
That night after the funeral, Vanderbilt played a super-regional opening game, the biggest baseball game probably in the school’s history. Will wanted to go, so we did, watching the Commodores win with ease. Many friends know Coach Tim Corbin has been very supportive of Dori and our family the last four years. He visited her at Vanderbilt hospital, called her in Houston, emailed and texted me from time to time, and most especially has been very supportive of Will and Kathryn.
This busy man, on probably the biggest day of his life, came to her funeral with his wife Maggie. After the win that night, he said he wanted us to be with the team in Omaha at the College World Series, if we were up for it. Before the bus left for the airport a few days later, he presented Will with an authentic baseball jersey. In Omaha, he texted to see how we were doing and to see if he could do anything else. Tim Corbin isn’t just a great baseball coach. He is one of many angels watching over my family. I love him for loving Dori the way he did, for being at her funeral with his soulmate, and for smiling at and supporting my children.
The nine-day trip to Omaha was fun, a true escape. We went to their stellar zoo, enjoyed their Strategic Air Command Museum, their vibrant Old Market, and a water park inside the hotel only 100 yards from the ballpark. Uncle Al, Will’s godfather, was with us the first five days. We cheered loudly for our team, and apparently were on ESPN many times, according to dozens of texts and voicemails from friends. That was how we honored Dori, cheering for a team she loved, a team of young role models worthy of praise and support.
After Vanderbilt was eliminated by Florida after a great run, the kids and I drove to South Dakota. We toured and hiked the Badlands National Park, observed bison herds and prairie dog towns, took a train ride through the Black Hills, scaled Harney Peak (the highest mountain between the Rockies and Alps at 7,200 feet), and visited Mt. Rushmore. Driving the Midwest was therapeutic because we were enjoying God’s creation, something Dori loved very much.
Today, we are struggling. We are home, and our house feels empty in many ways. We’re all doing forms of grief counseling. I started the weekly “Grieving Spouses” group at Gilda’s Club, something Dori wanted me to do. Dori’s sister Kathy and I are told we’ll find a “new normal” at some point. A new normal? How do you package that up and sell it? Time is supposed to help. Remembering Dori’s eternal joy is, too. All I know is things aren’t great right now. I’d be lying if I said they were.
The kids and I are having OK days and bad days. Today, we rode our bikes for more than an hour, which was good. Down time tends to be tougher time. Exercise and activity aren’t a panacea, but they help a lot. I have prepared and posted a marathon training schedule to our refrigerator. Yes, I am running another marathon. More on that later this month. I have reintroduced structure in my life, and am encouraging and doing the same for our kids.
Here’s the eulogy. I’ll post photos of the Midwest trip soon.
FUNERAL for DORI BROWN June 10, 2011
Deacon Mark Faulkner
First Reading Isaiah 40: 28-31
Second Reading Colossians 2: 1-7
Gospel Reading John 16: 19-24
The Gospel reading we just heard was marked in Dori’s Bible as one of her favorites and Jim selected it today for how it poignantly speaks to us TODAY.
Our Lord showed His disciples and He showed us that death is not the end…that grief will one day give way to joy. So many of us prayed for a miracle of healing for Dori…and it happened TWICE… actually 3 times.
Dori did not have good odds when she was diagnosed with AML 4 years ago. The progression of the disease did not look encouraging on several occasions. But with remarkable spirit and resilience and determination, supported by thousands of prayers and the wonderful caring staff at Vanderbilt ministering to her medically, she was restored to good health and became a miracle girl.
When the disease came back and she found herself in Vanderbilt again, things got especially dark and she was given VERY low odds of survival. I remember breaking down while talking to Jim outside her room on a particular Sunday as we discussed how her blood counts and GVH disease dynamics weren’t doing what they need to, and if they didn’t, she probably wouldn’t make it.
And when he next posted on Caring Bridge, it was as if a tsunami of prayers stormed heaven and for little apparent reason, her counts started rising and her situation completely and unexpectedly turned around. She was restored again to good health and became a 2-time miracle girl.
And when this awful disease came back again recently, we all prayed for another miracle…a third one…and consistent with this Gospel, our prayers were answered with the ultimate miracle…Dori was given the ultimate miracle of life…eternal health and happiness.
In November of 2007, I gave a homily on perseverance and spoke about St. John of the Cross and Dori…in his book “Dark Night of the Soul” John of the Cross talks about the dawning of new and transcendent life that comes after living through a very dark time. He reminds us that our God promises that in spite of any current darkness, if we just try to persevere, there will ALWAYS be new and greater light and life following.
And I shared this from Dori who was at the time, persevering as she continued to recover from “round one” of leukemia…….[edited]
Dori wrote: “After having been in the hospital over 2 months this summer, I have now been here again for another month…and this stay has been the most difficult physically. Heavy medications that take their toll, high fevers that saps you, Chemo induced mouth sores and a throat too sore to swallow or talk, exhaustion and pain and nausea and rashes…but…I found a nice quote from the diary of Anne Frank...
“I don't think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that still remains.”
“I wish that I could say I've been fully living according to that inspirational message these past 30 days, but it’s been so tough. I do know that I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and that is so welcome. I can't wait to walk back into our house, to be able to tuck the kids in bed, to sit on chairs that are not vinyl! To just be home.
“After a very dark period, I do sense a light at the end of the tunnel… Thank you for your support and prayers. I didn't realize feeling good felt so good!”
Love to all of you, Dori
Dori’s sense of new life and new light was correct…that is what awaits us both in this world and in the next if we, like her, persevere, …a brighter life after hardship and the BRIGHTEST life of heaven…Dori had an even brighter outlook, a brighter appreciation…after persevering through her hardships. She laughed even more.
Kathy Robson (sister)
More than anything, Kathy loved Dori’s laugh – which was happy and healthy and beautifully hearty. Dori’s infectious laugh even stymied herself at times. When things got too funny, Dori would be laughing so hard she would go silent, and with happy tears in her eyes, would resort to pointing at the person making her laugh. When Dori’s laughter turned to tears of joy, that only made everyone laugh harder.
Kathy loved how Dori always allowed her as the younger sister to tag along with her Vanderbilt friends, like each spring break. Kathy was always welcome in Dori’s world, no questions asked… that’s a theme many others in Dori’s life would come to learn and appreciate.
Dori and Kathy loved each other in the unique way that only sisters can love, which:
• Strengthened their spirits
• Nourished their children
• Soothed and comforted their friends
• And bolstered men like Jim and Nathan (Kathy’s husband who just read the word).
Their sisterly love brightened this world, and will shine on.
Happy (mother)
Dori’s mother Happy was sweetness to Dori’s soul, she was her guiding light to the great woman she became. Happy’s reassurances and consistent love put Dori on the right path and guided her through both good times and challenging times.
Happy was always proud of Dori’s classy choices, including her pick of the perfect wedding dress that captured her elegance.
Happy is most grateful for Dori’s unwavering support for her, like the red carpet treatment on many Mother’s Days. But you could say that the loving, giving, unselfish Dori rolled out the red carpet for everyone in her life.
Happy helped nurture Dori’s love of violins, like the music that fill this holy chamber today – that love was fostered by the many trips Happy and Dori made to hear the Cincinnati Symphony perform the Nutcracker. Dori loved to hear the strings of violins speak and dance, and wanted her friends to experience that joy. Dori wanted us to hear violins today.
Rick Sawyer (Dad)
Dori’s father, Rick, has similarly vivid memories of her love of music. When Dori walked onto the stage at Princeton High School as the Princeton Orchestra's CONCERTMASTER, he knew Dori could do anything she wanted.
Rick fostered Dori’s deep appreciation of the importance of a great education. Never was he more proud than when she was accepted to Vanderbilt. Dori excelled in school and passed on that gene to Kathryn and Will. It certainly didn’t come from Jim…but he’s given them other great genes and gifts.
One of her dad’s fondest recollections was his surprise to learn how strong his diminutive daughter really was. At Kathryn’s birth, Dori’s epidural didn’t take. Dori, experiencing childbirth the way women used to, and she grabbed his hand so hard it hurt him. Dori had girl power.
And many of you know how much Dori loved the outdoors, she loved her hikes at Radnor Lake, by herself and with her family, or at Beersheba Springs with Jim. But that love of nature didn’t come easy. When Dori and Kathy were young, their dad’s navigation skills failed him on a hike in the Colorado Rockies…not a good place to get lost! And on subsequent family hikes, the sisters always were sure to less than joyfully remark, “Ohhh, here we go hiking again”.
Jim, Kathryn and Will
Dori Sawyer Brown was the devoted friend everyone wants. She loved good people all her life, and good people loved her … at Princeton High School, Vanderbilt University, SunTrust Bank, Junior League, St. Bernard Academy, and Nashville Bank & Trust. She was grace and love personified.
And Dori loved Jim’s family – Rachel, Anne and everyone – loved them like she loved her own, and they returned that love in bundles.
And more than anything, she was the loving mother every child should have. Dori took care of her family in a remarkable way. She lived the right way and taught the right values and principles, which will carry on in her remarkably beautiful children.
She taught the things we know we should do, but that sometimes need to be emphasized…
Work hard.
Love and respect yourself and others.
Cherish the outdoors.
Eat and sleep well.
Have fun, smile and laugh.
Ask someone how she is doing.
Be a good friend and you will have good friends.
Your choices have consequences.
Live within your means.
Show your outer and inner beauty.
Look people in the eye.
Be organized.
Marry someone who shares your values.
Above all, love God from whom all blessings flow.
Dori’s smile, along with her laugh, are two things many of you have said you will always remember about her. Jim has always said he married Dori because of her smile. Her friend Ramsay, who was her classmate from first grade through senior year of high school, e-mailed Dori recently and I would like to share part of that e-mail with you:
“When I met Dori, we were both beginning 1st grade. We would meet at the top of Gunny Hill and walk to school together, very much an uphill walk, and we walked all the way home together too. I remember Dori smiling and laughing every day. Through elementary school, middle and high school, as our paths went different ways, I still remember Dori smiling.
“I also remember her working hard in what looked like a very comfortable way and surrounded by people who obviously cared about her and were so attracted to her. She had that calm magnetism and gentle laugh that everyone felt. I felt it again when Erica and I had dinner with Dori a few years ago in Seattle.
“It is obvious from the posts on the CaringBridge site that you have always had this and you have touched so many. I'm sure it is a quality found in your children in the various ways that they have about them. And I imagine that it is why Jim was so attracted to you and is so devoted to you.”
Ramsay captured the essence of Dori Brown. Dori’s love had no end, just like Christ’s boundless love for us. She emulated Our Lord from her earliest years, and as her faith grew, she walked consistently and devotedly with Him every step of the way.
She carried the burden of disease with a grace and strength that has each of us in awe.
When the leukemia reared up the second time, and I pushed the button in the Vanderbilt elevator for the both dreaded and wonderful11th floor, I had a prevailing thought…and I walked into that [unfortunately] familiar room of Dori’s, I looked at her (and pardon the gutteralism) and said “this sucks”…….she said “yeahhhh, this REALLY sucks”.
The room was already adorned with the loving touches of her kids -- Will and Kathryn, your mom loved all your drawings and messages and pictures…and you know she SO loved you…and I know it doesn’t lessen the grief, but she loves you even MORE now.
She loved all the times with you and especially was cherishing this past month, just hanging out with you, life in it’s simple form, on the back patio, smelling the smells, seeing the flowers so lovingly planted by dear friends, hearing the sounds of your backyard, and just talking with you…
She loved talking to you and marveling at the great kids you are…keep doing that…keep talking to her…she will always love that…it’s hard for us to comprehend, but she is closer to you than ever before and she, in oneness with Our Lord will be with you every step of your lives.
She will be quietly, powerfully, positively praying for you and pulling for you. She is still your mom, and Our Lord and she will help guide you. As St. Paul tells us, the communion of saints and angels of heaven are a cloud of witnesses around us…everyone in heaven is a saint…and so now, for you, she is “Saint Mom”…you have your very own patron saint.
Tell her about everything going on…she wants to hear it…she wants you to know she is still a part of your lives.
As we heard Kathryn, when you were born, it was painful, but after your birth, your mom’s pain gave way to infinite joy and love (just like the Gospel tells us). As your mom was born into heaven this past Tuesday, her pain once again gave way to infinite joy and love.
Jim, over the years I have heard you say on more than one occasion that you “married up” – yep! The beautiful thing is, so did Dori. Your loving devotion to her, as reflected in your blogs and posts to Caring Bridge let us all see that Dori also chose well.
You took your vows to Dori Sawyer and gave us an example of living those vows to the depth of and the way those sacred words have their most full and profound meaning.
Jim, you truly took Dori to be your wife…you beautifully fulfilled your promise to be true to her in good times and in bad…you devotedly cared for her in sickness and in health…and with the fullness of your heart you loved her and honored her all the days of her life.
Dori graced us and so have you. Thank you.
Dori, we love you. Thanks for loving us. You were Light and Truth and Love on earth…and as the Gospel said, our tears will someday turn to joy, because in the eternal span of time, it really won’t be that long before we see you and your smile again. Amen.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Rest in Peace
Dori died the way she wanted this morning, with dignity and her soul ready for final journey. Rest easy, love of my life, and enjoy the peace and eternal love you richly deserve.
Please see below's CaringBridge post for more details. Love, Jim
Hello, friends.
Dori passed away this morning at Alive Hospice. She is now with Him, forever in perfect peace.
Dori’s health changed rapidly the last three days. She felt good last week, and even was shopping Saturday with Kathryn; but she woke up Sunday morning feeling very different. We engaged hospice care in home and then moved to hospice in residence Monday afternoon. She died shortly before 9 this morning. We’re grateful she’s finally free of the suffering she’s endured on this long journey.
Dori tremendously enjoyed the last month at home with family and a few dear friends. She especially loved the serenity of our yard and time with Kathryn and Will. We ate backyard burgers and celebrated things we like doing most as a family.
Without question, Dori felt blessed with time to leave the way she wanted. Her amazing spirit inspired her to do many things we will remember forever. She had no regrets and was ready for New Life, the best life of all.
Our grief is immense, like some of you likely are experiencing. But so is Dori’s legacy. Last night, I told her I’ve never met anyone who deserves to be with Him more than her. She changed thousands of lives through her loving kindness and Christ-like spirit, which lives on in Kathryn, Will, her sister Kathy and many others. Her smile and her laugh changed this world for the better. I will deeply, deeply miss her.
We do have some family requests. We ask you to direct any planned kindness (food, flowers, gift certificates, etc.) to the charity of your choice. Dori would appreciate that, and so would I. We also would like to have the peace and quiet we need in our house these next few days and weeks. We will see many of you at the visitation and funeral and later this summer.
Dori’s obituary is below, along with some of her favorite scripture that comforted her. With His grace, may we all follow her lead, here and beyond.
Love, Jim
OBITUARY
BROWN, Dorothy (Dori) Sawyer, Age 43 of Nashville, June 7, after a determined four-year battle with leukemia. Born December 9, 1967, in Hanover, N.H.
Survived by husband Jim; daughter Kathryn; son Will; mother Gladys L. Sawyer of Cincinnati; father Richard P. Sawyer Jr. (Carol) of Gulf Breeze, FL; sister Katherine Robson (Nathan) and nephew Parker and niece Claire of Fishersville, VA; uncle Timothy M. Sawyer (Jean) of Bourne, MA; aunt Prudence W. Sawyer of Pocasset, MA; mother-in-law Rachel Blair of Nashville; sister-in-laws Anne Blair Brown (Stephen Woolverton) of Nashville and Elizabeth Light (Tim) and niece Anah of Franklin; and father-in-law James A. Brown (Peggy) of Nashville.
Dori was a light to many, a role model who followed in Christ’s footsteps. Loving, genuine, graceful and kind, Dori immersed herself into improving the lives of those around her, especially her two children, husband, family and dearest friends. She was a member of Cathedral of the Incarnation and enjoyed her roles in banking, most recently with the wonderful team at Nashville Bank & Trust. She loved to hike at Radnor Lake, walk with friends, and gave to the community in many ways. She was a graduate of Princeton High School in Cincinnati and Vanderbilt University. The family thanks the teams at Vanderbilt Ingram Cancer Center, M.D. Anderson Cancer Clinic and Alive Hospice for their care.
Visitation will be Thursday, June 9, from 6-8 p.m., and funeral services will be Friday, June 10, at 10 a.m., at Cathedral of the Incarnation, 2015 West End Ave., Nashville, 37203. In lieu of flowers, the family asks donations be made to charities of choice or the “Education Funds for Kathryn and Will Brown,” which may be mailed to Nashville Bank & Trust, 4525 Harding Road, Suite 300, Nashville, TN, 37205.
SCRIPTURE
2nd Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the Faith.
Numbers 6:24:26
The Lord Bless you and keep you!
The Lord let his face shine upon you!
The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace.
Matthew 11:28-30
Come to Me,
All of you who are weary and find life burdensome;
I will refresh you.
Take My yoke on your shoulders and learn from Me,
For I am gentle and humble of Heart.
You shall find rest because My yoke is easy and My burden is light.
Isaiah 40:31
But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. The will soar on wings like eagles.
Proverbs 3:5
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your understanding.
1 Peter 5:7
Let Him have all your worries and cares, for He is always thinking about and watching everything that concerns you.
Colossians 2:6
And now just as you trusted Christ to save you, trust Him, too, for each day’s problems: live in vital union with Him.
Isaiah 43
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
Jeremiah 29:11
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Saturday, June 4, 2011
'What Can We Do?'
Many times each week, we're asked, "What can we do to help?" Folks feel helpless. We get it.
But there is much you can do. Many already have, not only with random acts of kindness to our family but also by supporting the efforts we believe are making a difference. You can always look to the left under Links, but here they are:
Join the Be the Match Registry.
Hundreds of friends and family have already signed up. This is a great way to help someone facing blood cancer, potentially saving a life.
Donate to the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation.
60 Minutes continues to report about this cutting-edge effort to wipe out cancer. We're optimistic KCRF is on to something special to kill many kinds of cancer cells. You can help these folks, too.
Contribute to Team in Training.
Dori and I support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's mission, and some of our friends continue to run for people like Dori. Our friend and my running buddy Jim Asker is a lymphoma survivor and marathoner. You can help his current fundraising effort as he prepares for the Dublin Marathon, or help our friend Patricia Jempty, a leukemia survivor whose humor, candor and vigor have inspired us. She's running for Dori in the NYC Marathon.
Gilda's Club helps families dealing with cancer.
Even though she didn't get to complete her half marathon this spring, Dori trained hard and was the top fundraiser for this great support group. We continue to support their efforts and hope many of you will, too.
That's just four for you to consider. If you make a contribution somewhere, let us know with an e-mail or comment. The support we've experienced has been a big part of this very difficult journey. We're grateful, but the ones yet to face this terrible situation will be, too.
But there is much you can do. Many already have, not only with random acts of kindness to our family but also by supporting the efforts we believe are making a difference. You can always look to the left under Links, but here they are:
Join the Be the Match Registry.
Hundreds of friends and family have already signed up. This is a great way to help someone facing blood cancer, potentially saving a life.
Donate to the Kanzius Cancer Research Foundation.
60 Minutes continues to report about this cutting-edge effort to wipe out cancer. We're optimistic KCRF is on to something special to kill many kinds of cancer cells. You can help these folks, too.
Contribute to Team in Training.
Dori and I support the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's mission, and some of our friends continue to run for people like Dori. Our friend and my running buddy Jim Asker is a lymphoma survivor and marathoner. You can help his current fundraising effort as he prepares for the Dublin Marathon, or help our friend Patricia Jempty, a leukemia survivor whose humor, candor and vigor have inspired us. She's running for Dori in the NYC Marathon.
Gilda's Club helps families dealing with cancer.
Even though she didn't get to complete her half marathon this spring, Dori trained hard and was the top fundraiser for this great support group. We continue to support their efforts and hope many of you will, too.
That's just four for you to consider. If you make a contribution somewhere, let us know with an e-mail or comment. The support we've experienced has been a big part of this very difficult journey. We're grateful, but the ones yet to face this terrible situation will be, too.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Processing Fraud
Am I becoming a recluse? I'm not up for answering all the calls from the dear people who call, text and e-mail. I hope they understand that I get to these when I can. Some days, it takes awhile.
Dori is enjoying being home, though the heat wave has kept her indoors lately. It's not even summer, but feels like early August. The invasion of the 13-year cicada is in full force. My running was good last week when it was cool ... about 24 miles. This week, I've only run four so far. The kids are out of school. Kathryn is diving, while Will is playing tennis. Both are playing summer basketball.
Dori spent seven draining hours at the clinic last Friday getting red blood and platelets. Remarkably, she didn't need any blood products today. Any time away from the hospital is good. She is eating well, playing board games with the kids and mostly having good days. A few have been rough, but we'll take what we're getting right now for as long as we can.
I finally watched the Lance Armstrong story on 60 Minutes. Dori and I identified with him, obviously through his cancer journey. We read his books, and I followed his cycling career very closely, with admiration. But that view has been shattered with the undeniable proof that continues to emerge. Lance cheated, and so did his teammates and most of his competitors. He might go to prison. It's the same with college football: USC, Ohio State and others. So many cheat or break the rules, and the governing bodies turn their heads or only address serious problems when they're about to be exposed.
It has me searching for achievement with integrity, something that seems to be waning in our "right now for me" culture. Dori is disappointed, as well, but we'll use it as a lesson for our children. Always do things the right way, with integrity and honor. Play like a champion, and lose like one, too, with your head held high that you did your best and you did it honestly.
Dori is enjoying being home, though the heat wave has kept her indoors lately. It's not even summer, but feels like early August. The invasion of the 13-year cicada is in full force. My running was good last week when it was cool ... about 24 miles. This week, I've only run four so far. The kids are out of school. Kathryn is diving, while Will is playing tennis. Both are playing summer basketball.
Dori spent seven draining hours at the clinic last Friday getting red blood and platelets. Remarkably, she didn't need any blood products today. Any time away from the hospital is good. She is eating well, playing board games with the kids and mostly having good days. A few have been rough, but we'll take what we're getting right now for as long as we can.
I finally watched the Lance Armstrong story on 60 Minutes. Dori and I identified with him, obviously through his cancer journey. We read his books, and I followed his cycling career very closely, with admiration. But that view has been shattered with the undeniable proof that continues to emerge. Lance cheated, and so did his teammates and most of his competitors. He might go to prison. It's the same with college football: USC, Ohio State and others. So many cheat or break the rules, and the governing bodies turn their heads or only address serious problems when they're about to be exposed.
It has me searching for achievement with integrity, something that seems to be waning in our "right now for me" culture. Dori is disappointed, as well, but we'll use it as a lesson for our children. Always do things the right way, with integrity and honor. Play like a champion, and lose like one, too, with your head held high that you did your best and you did it honestly.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Not That Question, Please
Dori is enjoying time at home, on her comforting couch and on our panoramic deck that overlooks our tranquil yard. Some of our dear friends planted some beautiful flowers and plants recently. She loves them, as do I. She believes she feels better than when we returned to Nashville 18 days ago. The comforts of home contrast with hospital gloom.
My beautiful wife, and she is beautiful, has been going to the hospital twice a week for transfusions. Home health has also come by twice weekly to take blood, change dressings on her PICC line and check in. Dear friends, people who Dori loves like a brother or sister, have stopped by. But she doesn't have much energy for long visits, so I play good cop.
When I say Dori is beautiful, I mean it in every way. Cancer has not diminished her physical beauty. She's the best-looking cancer patient I've ever seen. Her delicate features, her warm eyes and the smile I married are as precious as ever. Her friend Ramsay e-mailed recently about her smile. I don't know Ramsay well but had to tell her that's why Dori caught me eye. I've never seen a better smile than Dori's.
I've been keeping a close eye on the kids and planning things no parent should ever have to plan. We're all hurting, expressing it in different ways. My emotions are touching the full spectrum. Some days I feel like talking; other days I don't want to see a soul.
What I can tell you is what our perceptive son shared last week. Will doesn't like the question, "How are you doing?" I don't either. I know people are asking with good intentions and empathy, but unless you've been where we are at the moment, it's not a fun one, especially if you're honest. I tell almost everyone, "I'm OK." But my closest friends know I'm lousy. I get it, sweet Will. You're always on it.
Rather than asking that question, some who have been through what we're experiencing know what to say: "I'm sorry about Dori, and we're keeping you in our prayers." They make sweet statements, rather than pose the question whose honest answer is only what it is.
Dori is amazing me, and others, through this. She's touching us in ways that will last forever. Maybe I'll blog about that later, but right now, I don't want to. Getting this out took heavy lifting, but I'm glad I finally did.
My beautiful wife, and she is beautiful, has been going to the hospital twice a week for transfusions. Home health has also come by twice weekly to take blood, change dressings on her PICC line and check in. Dear friends, people who Dori loves like a brother or sister, have stopped by. But she doesn't have much energy for long visits, so I play good cop.
When I say Dori is beautiful, I mean it in every way. Cancer has not diminished her physical beauty. She's the best-looking cancer patient I've ever seen. Her delicate features, her warm eyes and the smile I married are as precious as ever. Her friend Ramsay e-mailed recently about her smile. I don't know Ramsay well but had to tell her that's why Dori caught me eye. I've never seen a better smile than Dori's.
I've been keeping a close eye on the kids and planning things no parent should ever have to plan. We're all hurting, expressing it in different ways. My emotions are touching the full spectrum. Some days I feel like talking; other days I don't want to see a soul.
What I can tell you is what our perceptive son shared last week. Will doesn't like the question, "How are you doing?" I don't either. I know people are asking with good intentions and empathy, but unless you've been where we are at the moment, it's not a fun one, especially if you're honest. I tell almost everyone, "I'm OK." But my closest friends know I'm lousy. I get it, sweet Will. You're always on it.
Rather than asking that question, some who have been through what we're experiencing know what to say: "I'm sorry about Dori, and we're keeping you in our prayers." They make sweet statements, rather than pose the question whose honest answer is only what it is.
Dori is amazing me, and others, through this. She's touching us in ways that will last forever. Maybe I'll blog about that later, but right now, I don't want to. Getting this out took heavy lifting, but I'm glad I finally did.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Jeremiah 29:11
Most of you know the bad news. The chemo in Houston didn't work, and Dori won't be able to transplant. We're completely devastated. We're told her time with us is limited to weeks, maybe a month.
I'm not in a blogging mood, but thought I would share something that Kathryn and I discussed last night. I don't pretend to understand why all this is happening, but I told her I'm confident there is a reason. I encouraged her to read a previous post, "Why Does Bad Happen?" for my view.
You may recall I've blogged about Jeremiah 29:11 a few times, most recently in February when Dori accidentally broke the plate with that scripture. At the time, I was frustrated having to spend a weekend gluing piece by piece, before remounting the plate on the wall. I realize now I hadn't really looked at that scripture in some time, but that undertaking was cold water on my face.
My friend Ron shared the scripture again on CaringBridge. I pray our children find meaning and peace in these words, and Dori and me too, as we deal with such tremendous pain and pending loss. One of Dori's favorites, it's worth repeating.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
I'm not in a blogging mood, but thought I would share something that Kathryn and I discussed last night. I don't pretend to understand why all this is happening, but I told her I'm confident there is a reason. I encouraged her to read a previous post, "Why Does Bad Happen?" for my view.
You may recall I've blogged about Jeremiah 29:11 a few times, most recently in February when Dori accidentally broke the plate with that scripture. At the time, I was frustrated having to spend a weekend gluing piece by piece, before remounting the plate on the wall. I realize now I hadn't really looked at that scripture in some time, but that undertaking was cold water on my face.
My friend Ron shared the scripture again on CaringBridge. I pray our children find meaning and peace in these words, and Dori and me too, as we deal with such tremendous pain and pending loss. One of Dori's favorites, it's worth repeating.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Build Up
Amazing Dori did great today. Her port, believed to be the culprit of a staph infection, has been removed, and another biopsy is done. We’ll know preliminary results, probably within 24 hours. Man, we want us some good biopsy results so she can transplant. We’ll also need the infection to be gone soon. Dori’s fever is lower and her blood pressure has improved.
It’s been a whirlwind day and frenetic last week. I’ll start with the latter. Last week was tough, bordering on awful. Managing family emotions, while managing your own, can be nightmarish once in awhile. I snapped at someone I love dearly and had to apologize for not being my best. We’ve both had a heart to heart and are stronger, not weaker, after the snafu. I’m sorry, two powerful words.
For much of last week and some of this one, I’ve felt like I’ve been trapped. I have no control over so much. My glass-half full approach kept getting poured empty by events, even by people I love. I experienced rejection and other things that hopped out of Pandora’s Box. Wish I could shut that thing sometimes.
But I’ve also experienced some of the best times in my life recently. Kathryn, Will and I left Nashville Friday, spent the night in Meridian, MS, and drove to Houston Saturday. We had a grand time Friday at dinner, laughed in the car and had a great reunion with Dori. Will hadn’t seen Dori in almost a month. The evident bond they share moved us all.
Today has been many things. This morning, I woke at 5:15 to run. As I was leaving the apartment we’re renting, my Blackberry alerted me to an email. Dori was reporting improvements (lower fever, etc.). Energized, I ran through neighborhoods, around the campus of Rice University to home. The weather was un-Houston-like, cool and not humid. The 6.5-miler was a breeze. I woke the kids, made them some pancakes with fresh fruit and drove them to the airport to fly back to Nashville. They’re safe and sound.
All was calm until I saw the plane taking off. I kept it together barely, got in the car and lost it. My love and concern for them, combined with the fact that Dori was enduring so much today, hit me. It’s alright to cry, cause Rosie Greer told me on Sesame Street a long time ago.
I drove to the hospital and found Dori in great spirits. She saw how weepy I still was, and told me she’s going to get through this. They took her to do the procedures, I ate lunch, and then consulted with the stem cell transplant doctor about details the next few days. Dori came back to her room around 3:30, and she’s about to eat for the first time in nearly 24 hours. She’s looking well.
For now, we’re on obvious pins and needles. I’m glad today went the way it did. I hope and pray tomorrow does, too.
It’s been a whirlwind day and frenetic last week. I’ll start with the latter. Last week was tough, bordering on awful. Managing family emotions, while managing your own, can be nightmarish once in awhile. I snapped at someone I love dearly and had to apologize for not being my best. We’ve both had a heart to heart and are stronger, not weaker, after the snafu. I’m sorry, two powerful words.
For much of last week and some of this one, I’ve felt like I’ve been trapped. I have no control over so much. My glass-half full approach kept getting poured empty by events, even by people I love. I experienced rejection and other things that hopped out of Pandora’s Box. Wish I could shut that thing sometimes.
But I’ve also experienced some of the best times in my life recently. Kathryn, Will and I left Nashville Friday, spent the night in Meridian, MS, and drove to Houston Saturday. We had a grand time Friday at dinner, laughed in the car and had a great reunion with Dori. Will hadn’t seen Dori in almost a month. The evident bond they share moved us all.
Today has been many things. This morning, I woke at 5:15 to run. As I was leaving the apartment we’re renting, my Blackberry alerted me to an email. Dori was reporting improvements (lower fever, etc.). Energized, I ran through neighborhoods, around the campus of Rice University to home. The weather was un-Houston-like, cool and not humid. The 6.5-miler was a breeze. I woke the kids, made them some pancakes with fresh fruit and drove them to the airport to fly back to Nashville. They’re safe and sound.
All was calm until I saw the plane taking off. I kept it together barely, got in the car and lost it. My love and concern for them, combined with the fact that Dori was enduring so much today, hit me. It’s alright to cry, cause Rosie Greer told me on Sesame Street a long time ago.
I drove to the hospital and found Dori in great spirits. She saw how weepy I still was, and told me she’s going to get through this. They took her to do the procedures, I ate lunch, and then consulted with the stem cell transplant doctor about details the next few days. Dori came back to her room around 3:30, and she’s about to eat for the first time in nearly 24 hours. She’s looking well.
For now, we’re on obvious pins and needles. I’m glad today went the way it did. I hope and pray tomorrow does, too.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Why Does Bad Happen?
Dori is not feeling well again. She's in the emergency room in Texas with her sister, and I'm sitting here in our comfortable living room in Tennessee. Can you tell I'm Catholic?
This morning, she spiked a fever and emptied her stomach. She is very tired, but doesn't appear to have any other symptoms. If you're wondering if this ever gets old, sure it does, but we're not going to give in. We have too many chips on the table, and we're damned good at poker.
The kids and I will soon head for Texas, and family will watch over our dog and house. I take a lot of comfort knowing Dori is with her sister, who I love dearly and trust completely. But the separation right now hurts. The last two days in Tennessee have been better for the kids, but very difficult for me.
Yesterday evening, Kathryn showed me what all of this is about. The first few years she played basketball, she struggled. Dori and I thought she would play for awhile and move on to other activities. The next few years, when Dori was first diagnosed and battling leukemia, Kathryn started playing with toughness. This past year, she's worked at improving her skills and started setting goals. She loves the game.
Last night, she practiced with some of the better area players on a summer team, holding her own, scoring baskets and ripping rebounds. I'm happy for her, because it's teaching her what it takes to do well. She appreciates practice, has a great attitude and willingness to learn, and embraces the team concept. Dori loved it when I told her last night.
Tuesday afternoon on the way home from Texas, Kathryn and I stopped in Tuscaloosa. Today, we learned about the unbelievably terrible tornado that claimed many lives in that college town. Blink, like that, and many are gone. As much as we have on our plate, I can't stop thinking about the families who are dealing with tragedy. I've also read several online arguments questioning the existence of God.
Like many, I believe such events happen for a good reason. Not that they're good, but for a good reason. We are not in charge, no matter how much we want to be or think we are. A long time ago, I abandoned my belief everyone should live long, healthy lives and retire in comfort. So few do, though some suggest otherwise. Our culture screams "now," while our faith quietly but assertively says "forever."
Everyone's shot clock is different, but we all know we're on the clock. I will always believe that God wants to know whether we are with Him, or not. I'm with Him because the hope and love I have on this earth goes well beyond the here and now.
That's how I deal with cancer.
This morning, she spiked a fever and emptied her stomach. She is very tired, but doesn't appear to have any other symptoms. If you're wondering if this ever gets old, sure it does, but we're not going to give in. We have too many chips on the table, and we're damned good at poker.
The kids and I will soon head for Texas, and family will watch over our dog and house. I take a lot of comfort knowing Dori is with her sister, who I love dearly and trust completely. But the separation right now hurts. The last two days in Tennessee have been better for the kids, but very difficult for me.
Yesterday evening, Kathryn showed me what all of this is about. The first few years she played basketball, she struggled. Dori and I thought she would play for awhile and move on to other activities. The next few years, when Dori was first diagnosed and battling leukemia, Kathryn started playing with toughness. This past year, she's worked at improving her skills and started setting goals. She loves the game.
Last night, she practiced with some of the better area players on a summer team, holding her own, scoring baskets and ripping rebounds. I'm happy for her, because it's teaching her what it takes to do well. She appreciates practice, has a great attitude and willingness to learn, and embraces the team concept. Dori loved it when I told her last night.
Tuesday afternoon on the way home from Texas, Kathryn and I stopped in Tuscaloosa. Today, we learned about the unbelievably terrible tornado that claimed many lives in that college town. Blink, like that, and many are gone. As much as we have on our plate, I can't stop thinking about the families who are dealing with tragedy. I've also read several online arguments questioning the existence of God.
Like many, I believe such events happen for a good reason. Not that they're good, but for a good reason. We are not in charge, no matter how much we want to be or think we are. A long time ago, I abandoned my belief everyone should live long, healthy lives and retire in comfort. So few do, though some suggest otherwise. Our culture screams "now," while our faith quietly but assertively says "forever."
Everyone's shot clock is different, but we all know we're on the clock. I will always believe that God wants to know whether we are with Him, or not. I'm with Him because the hope and love I have on this earth goes well beyond the here and now.
That's how I deal with cancer.
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