I'm not ready. I will be, but just not yet.
I want to tell her story, in the way she deserves...with class and beauty, just as she lived. But, I haven't found my voice yet. I will, and then I will honor her.
It has been one week today, but in so many ways it seems like it has been several weeks...and then in the same breath it seems like just yesterday. The memories are still crystal clear, the emotions still raw. There are bad days, and better days. But mostly I am thankful that each day the sun rises, with the promise of a new day.
It has been one week today since Steve's mom, Gisela, was called home from this life after a long and courageous battle with lung cancer. She was 68 years young. For those of you who had the privilege to know her, you know she did everything on her terms and with the utmost of class. Please know that the final leg of her earthly journey was no different. The end was quick and very peaceful. She was in the comfort and quiet of her own home, surrounded by her family.
We will honor her and her memory on October 16th at 10am at Grace Community Church. The family requests that in lieu of flowers, that donations be made to:
United Against Lung Cancer.
Gisela was diagnosed with advanced stage of lung cancer, specifically Non Small Cell Lung Cancer (NSCLC), in December 2008. This took her, as well as everyone who knew her, by complete surprise. She was a vibrant, young, and a seemingly healthy woman who did all the "right" things: she exercised, ate correctly, and took good care of her health. However, despite never having smoked, she was not spared the devastation of this terrible disease. It was Gisela's hope, as well as the hope of her family and friends, that the stigma that is attached to this disease would be dispelled so that awareness, funding and research could be acheived. We have seen what amazing outcomes can be achieved with awareness, especially when we look at diseases such a cervical or breast cancer. In those specific diseases, we have isolated genetic mutations, discovered better diagnostic tools, and even found cures! More Americans die from lung cancer each year than colon, breast, pancreatic and prostate cancers combined. Any support you can offer would be much appreciated. Please help us help others.
And so the process of healing begins. Sometimes it is hard to know where to start. I grieve in so many ways: for the loss of Gisela, for my husband and his pain, for my children and their loss, and for the uncertainty in all of it. But then I look at the faces of my two little loves, and the answer becomes obvious.
Their little faces tell of innocence and wonder, happiness and hope, peace and faithfulness. They see the world through rose colored glasses, and it is beautiful and happy and full of possibility. They find joy in the simplest of pleasures, and delight in the smallest of accomplishments. And I realize that this is how I choose to see life. I am drinking the koolaid, and doning the glasses because life it just too short to not enjoy it. That's not what Gisela wanted...she was very clear on that.
And so we take baby steps. We stepped out, on somewhat wobbly legs, to one of our favorite places this week. The wetlands in Delray are quiet and peaceful, interrupted only by the sound of my children's footsteps on the boardwalk or their piercing voices exclaiming their lastest discovery: a bird, a turtle, a bunny or an alligator. It is also a canvas of God's beautiful creation.
And so we walked and breathed in the cool fall air, while listening to the squeals of delight from happy, peaceful children. And in that moment, surrounded by that beauty, I found it. The peace within. We can search for it in books, in nature, in others. But true peace is found within ourselves, and for me, in God. And so I grabbed it, and held on for dear life. I have stored it away for a rainy day, when the moments of turmoil and despair will creep up once agin and try to drag me down. They will come, but I am now armed with the most powerful weapon of all: PEACE.
I have taken refuge in the routine and monotony of the day/week. Because like it or not, life marches on. We baked this week, filling the house with the comforting smells of warmth and banana bread. Even my little ones sat vigil, waiting patiently for the goodness that was unfolding on the other side of that door/window.
And on Saturday, we gathered our family together for dinner and football because that is what we do. We grill,
and play computer games with our cousins,
and make good on lost bets from previous football seasons.
We drink and we love and find comfort in each other...because like it or leave it, we are family....through the good, the bad, and the ugly.
I am eternally grateful for my family and friends. You are my life rafts, my floatation devices. You have spent endless hours listening to me, comforting me, and uplifting me. I know everyone grieves differently, and in their own way. For me, I NEED my people. I need my posse that encircles me, like a wagon train, and supports me, encourages me, and protects me. Thank you for everything...from the emails to the voicemail's to the texts to the marathon instant messaging sessions and seemingly endless phone calls. Each of you has helped me start the healing process. It is in you and your love I find peace and strength. From the bottom of my heart and to the depths of my soul....
Thank you....
We will honor her and her memory on October 16th at 10am at Grace Community Church. The family requests that in lieu of flowers, that donations be made to: United Against Lung Cancer.
Gisela was diagnosed with advanced stage of lung cancer, specifically Non Small Cell Lung Cancer (NSCLC), in December 2008. This took her, as well as everyone who knew her, by complete surprise. She was a vibrant, young, and a seemingly healthy woman who did all the "right" things: she exercised, ate correctly, and took good care of her health. However, despite never having smoked, she was not spared the devastation of this terrible disease. It was Gisela's hope, as well as the hope of her family and friends, that the stigma that is attached to this disease would be dispelled so that awareness, funding and research could be acheived. We have seen what amazing outcomes can be achieved with awareness, especially when we look at diseases such a cervical or breast cancer. In those specific diseases, we have isolated genetic mutations, discovered better diagnostic tools, and even found cures! More Americans die from lung cancer each year than colon, breast, pancreatic and prostate cancers combined. Any support you can offer would be much appreciated. Please help us help others.
And so the process of healing begins. Sometimes it is hard to know where to start. I grieve in so many ways: for the loss of Gisela, for my husband and his pain, for my children and their loss, and for the uncertainty in all of it. But then I look at the faces of my two little loves, and the answer becomes obvious.
Their little faces tell of innocence and wonder, happiness and hope, peace and faithfulness. They see the world through rose colored glasses, and it is beautiful and happy and full of possibility. They find joy in the simplest of pleasures, and delight in the smallest of accomplishments. And I realize that this is how I choose to see life. I am drinking the koolaid, and doning the glasses because life it just too short to not enjoy it. That's not what Gisela wanted...she was very clear on that.
And so we take baby steps. We stepped out, on somewhat wobbly legs, to one of our favorite places this week. The wetlands in Delray are quiet and peaceful, interrupted only by the sound of my children's footsteps on the boardwalk or their piercing voices exclaiming their lastest discovery: a bird, a turtle, a bunny or an alligator. It is also a canvas of God's beautiful creation.
And so we walked and breathed in the cool fall air, while listening to the squeals of delight from happy, peaceful children. And in that moment, surrounded by that beauty, I found it. The peace within. We can search for it in books, in nature, in others. But true peace is found within ourselves, and for me, in God. And so I grabbed it, and held on for dear life. I have stored it away for a rainy day, when the moments of turmoil and despair will creep up once agin and try to drag me down. They will come, but I am now armed with the most powerful weapon of all: PEACE.
I have taken refuge in the routine and monotony of the day/week. Because like it or not, life marches on. We baked this week, filling the house with the comforting smells of warmth and banana bread. Even my little ones sat vigil, waiting patiently for the goodness that was unfolding on the other side of that door/window.
And on Saturday, we gathered our family together for dinner and football because that is what we do. We grill,
and play computer games with our cousins,
and make good on lost bets from previous football seasons.
We drink and we love and find comfort in each other...because like it or leave it, we are family....through the good, the bad, and the ugly.
I am eternally grateful for my family and friends. You are my life rafts, my floatation devices. You have spent endless hours listening to me, comforting me, and uplifting me. I know everyone grieves differently, and in their own way. For me, I NEED my people. I need my posse that encircles me, like a wagon train, and supports me, encourages me, and protects me. Thank you for everything...from the emails to the voicemail's to the texts to the marathon instant messaging sessions and seemingly endless phone calls. Each of you has helped me start the healing process. It is in you and your love I find peace and strength. From the bottom of my heart and to the depths of my soul....Thank you....
I feel so blessed to have known Gisela! I love you, and Im sending MUCH LOVE and prayers to you and the rest of our family as they grieve the loss of a wonderful woman.
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