Butterfly kisses

I don't talk about it much on the blog anymore but every now and then I feel compelled to share something about this journey of healing after losing my sister to breast cancer last year when she was only 41 years old.

I'd like to say each day it gets easier, but I think it got way worse before any sign of sunshine appeared. Details of my nieces that I can't share have been the most heartbreaking watching them pick of the pieces of losing their mother way too young have been the hardest. Seeing my mother experience the unimaginable of losing a daughter has also been agonizing. At times, I'm not the "fun" and "cool" aunt anymore, I'm more of the rolling-your-eyes-at-me-because-I'm-acting-like-your-mom aunt.

The hardest times are the ones that I just wish she was here to see something or ask her something about what she would want for her girls. I go with my gut but I throw in a good "you should know better" for good measure like I know my sister would.

Most recently, my oldest niece had her senior prom. Prom...it's a huge event in the life of a teenager and here she is about to graduate high school and my sister isn't here to see it. Talk about gut-wrenching.

I remember right before Tonya died, when we knew she was terminal, Tonya and I were talking about how expensive Madison's dress was for her junior prom. Tonya said, "Well, I'm not going to see her in her wedding dress, so I told her to get it."

I'll never forget that.

Madison looked beautiful in her dress that cost more than my wedding dress. (Since when did that happen?)

I'm not sure how she made it all night in those shoes. Those are what I call 15 minute shoes.

As I'm taking Madison's pictures, I look over at my youngest niece, Avery, who is holding this big beautiful butterfly in the middle of this urban/industrial area. I asked her where she got it and she said it was just sitting on the ground a few feet from us. I'm not talking about one of those tiny little butterflies, I mean this butterfly was showing off it knowing it was so huge and beautiful.

For those of you who don't know, my sister's middle name means butterfly and shortly after her death we released butterflies in her memory and it was also very symbolic with her battle with cancer.

That butterfly stayed on my niece's hand for at least 5 minutes, and then went to each girls' hand. It stayed nearly the entire time we took photos. I've had small whispers of her presence since her passing, but this wasn't just a whisper, this was as good as Tonya just showing up and saying, "Hey girls, what's up? It's me, Mama and ain't no way I'm missing my baby's senior prom."

 I can't shake this from my mind. I know that without a doubt it was her. And how perfect that even after her death she finds a way to still be a mama, because more than anything that was what was most important to her.

So I know next week when my niece is walking across that stage to get her diploma and in everything in her life thereafter that her mama, without a doubt, isn't missing a thing. She's there and just when we think she's missed some life event, she sends us a sign to say, "I'm here."

I'm so grateful for this visit from her even as brief as it was.

"Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a beautiful butterfly." (Proverb)

Broken

January 19, 2012 is a day I will never forget. Earlier that day I remembered that it was my Uncle Mike's birthday, a dear uncle who tragically died in a car crash in his mid 30s. I specifically remember thinking just how sad it was that he died so young and when my cousins were so young as teenagers. 

Later that evening, my world was shattered when I received a call from my mom who told me that my sister, Tonya, received the devastating news that her cancer was terminal...as in no other treatments options. Her breast cancer battle started June 2010 at the age of 39 and was followed with months of chemo, radiation and now I'm hearing from my mom that there's nothing more that they can do. The doctor more or less said chemo would only shorten her life and she needed to go and be with her family. 

I couldn't drive to her house quick enough and I ran to her and couldn't let go. I will never forget what she said through her tears, "I'm sorry, I tried so hard to fight." The days that followed = me an absolute wreck.

All that I could think of was everything she meant to me and everything I still needed her for.  

I spent the next month driving back and forth as much as I possibly could with her living nearly an hour away. Tonya would text me often and I would ask about her pain and always her answer was that the pain was nearly unbearable. I can't tell you how excruciating it is to hear someone you love so much tell you how much pain they're in and there's nothing you can do to help. 

On February 25, 2012 my beautiful sister lost her battle but was quite the fighter. She is the mother of three beautiful and smart girls that are 16, 13, and 11. The night before, my two youngest nieces spent the night with me and as we were cooking breakfast, I got the call that she was going and going fast. We flew as fast as we could while my sister fought for every breath in her last moments. She was surrounded by family holding hands, embracing each other as we cried and prayed over her. There is no doubt in my mind that she was holding on to see her girls and her family and hear from all of us that as much as it pained us, that we were going to be alright and it was okay to let go. 

I've never had a harder day in my life than that day. While I feel like it was a blessing to be there with her and tell her that I love her, the image of her in those last moments is absolutely haunting me and one I cannot get out of my mind every time I close my eyes. 

I spoke at Tonya's memorial service and was a ball of nerves. It took me about 5 minutes, or so it seemed, before I started my eulogy about her but I knew that no one would understand a word if I went into my ugly cry, and boy was I ever so close. 

Here are the words that I shared that day:

I recently read an article about a professor along with a group of researchers carried out a study that said that having a sister helped to promote good mental health. 

He said, "Sisters appear to encourage more open communication and cohesion in families. However, brothers seem to have the alternative effect. (Sorry, Bo, no offense) Emotional expression is fundamental to good psychological health and having sisters promotes this in families." 

I truly believe that your sister is your first best friend. Being that Tonya was 8 years older than me, in more ways also made her my second mother. She experienced things ahead of me and her experience and wisdom was often the topic of long phone conversations. 

Growing up, I was her shadow. I was completely her tag-along and was there even in those years where little sisters were “uncool” and normally cramping a teenager’s style. She couldn’t even get rid of me if she tried. I even tagged along in the summers to her work when she was a nanny. I’ve lost count how many times she gave me rides to volleyball games, work, and even dances when I was too embarrassed to have Mom and Dad drive me. I completely idolized her. I remember crying and telling my mom that I wanted “yellow” hair like Tonya when we were younger. I was always so envious of her thick beautiful hair. 

She was my “person” who didn’t hold back and told me the brutal honest truth like, “Andrea, what are you thinking wearing that white eye shadow” and “Sweetie, you really need to wax your lip.” Every person needs a “Tonya” to tell it to you straight. 

 If there ever were a pair of polar opposite sisters, it was Tonya and me. There were days that I wasn’t so sure she promoted good mental health but now looking back, those arguments and differences of opinion brought us closer. Tonya was fiery, spunky, and sassy but that seemed to be in my favor because most times I was not on the receiving end of it. She witnessed my worst and best and loved me anyway. She was the type that came to spend the night while my newborn son was hooked up to a machine for jaundice just so Justin and I could get more than an hour of sleep. She had many duties as a sister. She was also my mother, my cook, my chauffeur, my caregiver, my defense attorney (she saved my bottom from many a spankins), my personal press agent, my cheerleader and most often my shrink.

I remember when she had her girls and they felt like they were my own children. My sister could make some beautiful babies that was for sure. 

 When I became a mother, a closer bond began and I understood her more than ever.  We both love being a mother more than anything but Tonya was the one person I could count on to talk to about it when it got to be too hard to handle. She wouldn’t sugarcoat anything and would validate me that it was ok to feel that way. With the birth of every child we’ve been in the waiting room for each other. The best way she showed me her love was by loving my children. 

And my children loved her so much. When Tonya lost her hair, I gave Nolan a talk that Aunt Tonya was going to look different on our way to visit her. He asked me, “Is her name still Tonya? Did her voice change? So in his 4 year old mind, he was convinced that Tonya was a man since men are the only people that he’s seen bald. And when it came to my children, she was more grandmotherly and went immediately to defending them anytime I told her a story about some hair-pulling moment with them.

When Tonya first told me about finding the lump, it was one of those, “You better get that checked out” conversations. I cannot describe the 20 months after that that were filled with countless appointments, treatments, medications, hair loss, and pain. And here we find ourselves with her no longer in pain but yet our pain is so intense. Not the same blinding rush of pain she had during her days with cancer but the pain that feels like a part of us died because you can’t live very long without a heart and our hearts are completely broken.

The hardest part of this is speaking of her in the past tense. Saying I “had” a sister rather than “have” feels like I just swallowed box full of nails as I try to form that one word. 

I’m not a professor and I don’t have research to back it up but I didn’t need a study to tell me that my sister promoted my psychological health. Let us all remember Tonya, not as a woman battling cancer, but as that fiery, spunky, and loving woman that will live on in all of us. 

*********

Tonya's middle name, Vanesse, means butterfly. We had a butterfly release service at our church to symbolize so many things about her new journey as an angel and free of cancer. The service was absolutely uplifting and very therapeutic. Her beautiful and brave girls whispered prayers into the envelopes that carried the butterflies and released them.

After I said my prayer and released my butterfly, it lingered on my finger. It was exactly what I needed to know that she's still with me.  

 

She did the exact same thing for mom on her shirt sleeve and I'm so sure it was her way of saying, "Everything's going to be ok."

 

And so now the journey of healing begins and the best way I can describe it is looking at a huge mountain that seems impossible to climb and knowing that it's going to be so painful and you're going to fall down again, but the only way up is taking it one step at a time. 

The memories are seriously everywhere. Right now they are so painful but I know that one day, those memories will be such a source of joy.  I know she's with me, I feel her but I miss her like crazy. 

I love you Tonya. 

Love your Anna Banana 

Pretty in Pink

We cannot direct the wind but we can adjust the sails.  ~Author Unknown

And let me say we were a pirate crew last Sunday changing those sails. Tonya's fundraiser was this past weekend and there are no words - absolutely.no.words to explain the magnitude of it all. Tonya, my sister, was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer in the summer of last year. When helping plan this event with Tonya's closest friends, I was hoping that we just wouldn't be embarrassed with the turnout.

Quite to the contrary, my friends. I really have no idea how many people were there because for four solid hours there were people coming and going, and at majority of the time it was standing room only. My random guess is 300-400 people. 

How do you decorate for a breast cancer fundraiser? You use pink - lots and lots of pink.

I cannot say enough about my sister's friends and especially her friend Erin who headed up this thing. She and her husband Fritz own a local brewery here in town caled Rahr & Sons and it was a great location for the event. We all gathered raffle items and I did the invitations, slide show and other miscellaneous things. But who are we kidding, Erin had her name all over this thing. One thing is for sure, girlfriend has friends in high places.

Like the Dallas Cowboys...

And Jason Whitten from the Dallas Cowboys, which sold for $1,200 during the auction by the way.

Oh and a signed guitar from some guy named Pat Green. That sucker sold for over $3,000. I can't even tell you how many items were donated for the raffle to help my sister. There were raffles, silent auctions and a live auction. I'm talking the real deal with real auctioneers. I'd never been part of something like that and it was so exciting to watch knowing that it was all going to help Tonya. 

And that's not even including the food that was all donated by local restarants. 

 

And this is just about how much guacamole I could polish off on my own.  

And the bands were amazing. Yes, I said bands as in the plural form. There were two bands that donated their time and had everyone rocking.

$15.00 got you in the door with complimentary beer, good food and good music...can't beat that!

I've never seen so much pink in my life. 

And who says real mean don't wear pink. I beg your pardon...

I might just have to go buy more pink because they look so good in it...especially with a pair of cowboy boots and riding a mechanical bull...compliments of his Uncle David.

But the best part of the whole afternoon was seeing the happiness that it brought Tonya knowing that for one day she could feel the love in that room and even from complete strangers that came out to support her and her family.

I can't believe that my kids made it during nap time and that there weren't any meltdowns.  My kids are NOT the type to crash anywhere. They need their beds but when you've partied like a rock star and Mr. Sandman calls your name, there's no way you can say no to that man.

Tonya's long term leave as a social worker runs out during the middle of this month and she will no longer be paid.  After 12 months of FMLA, she will have to buy into Cobra insurance which is insanely expensive. Overwhelming is an understatement of the pressure that this putting on her family and especially her self-employed husband, David. 

But I'm amazed to say that this fundraiser raised over $27,000. People amaze me, even more God amazes me. Thank you doesn't even seem to remotely express how we all feel about this. But I'll say it anyway. 

Thank you from both of us.

And we may not be able to change the wind, but we'll keep moving those sails.

Sassy new wig

Seriously, have you ever seen anyone look this beautiful going through chemotherapy? My sister, Tonya, makes this beating cancer thing look like a piece of cake. The cancer center that she's been going to gave her some wigs, but she said that they made her head itch and it was like wearing an electric blanket on her head it trapped so much heat.

Well, her amazing (I really mean amazing) best friend, Sheri, got her this adorable sassy wig. It's perfect for her. Sheri takes her to her chemo treatments, raises money for her, makes her laugh til she literally almost wets her pants.

She still sports the 'do rag look when she feels like it but loves having the option to sport her wig.



Sure, she has her bad days as do I. Days when she can hardly get out of bed. Days when we've had family outings where one of us has to drive her home because she doesn't have the strength to drive. Days when the steroids make her feel like she has the temper of the Incredible Hulk, but she has handled this treatment with such dignity and strength and perseverance. She absolutely amazes me.

And as if her girls don't already look exactly like her enough...

 

As for an update, two good bits of news...

1. We found out that her cancer is not a genetic cancer. This is a huge sigh of relief for her girls, her other half-sister, and me! Don't think I'll dismiss this though. I'm going to the doctor to discuss what all this means for me in a couple of weeks.

2. The lump in her breast is shrinking! The doctor and even Tonya can tell just by feeling it. This was the largest of all the tumors so the doctor feels that if this is shrinking that chances are the tumors on her lungs which were much smaller are shrinking as well. We don't know anything for sure yet because she has two more weeks of chemo before they run more tests.

The worry still gets the best of me sometimes. I hate that we live 45 minutes away. I always feel like I'm not doing enough, not seeing her enough. The balance of starting at a new school, being a mom, working full time, being a wife, and being there for her make me feel like I'm doing all of it but a crappy job at all of them. I wish I could do more. I wish I see her more. God willing after this first round of chemo, we'll get more good news and my wish will come true.

Keep those prayers coming!