My Cancer Journey: The Kindness of Neighbors

We are entering the home stretch. Treatment will be completed next Friday. As this journey has progressed, I have gotten considerably weaker and have continued to struggle finding enough calories. Many friends and family have offered to help in whatever way we need them, but so far, we have managed. But that ended tonight. I watched Deb spend all afternoon packing away the Christmas decorations while I sat on the couch. I decided I needed to help out and would tackle taking down and storing our rather large artificial Christmas tree. I first had to separate the three sections of the tree. That done, I would have to get them back in the large storage box. There they would lie silent, waiting for next Christmas. I managed the separation part, but half way through the packing away, the room gave way. In a heartbeat, a very rapid heart beat, I found myself on my back on the floor. After a few scary moments, we decided it was time to call in one of those offers. Tom and Judy, our neighbors across the street, was one of our options. Deb put out the call and within minutes they were there. Tom took over the job of storing the tree while Judy, a retired nurse took charge of me. Thankfully, my heart settled down, my pulse strengthened and my blood pressure looked good. We made it through this time.

I am so grateful to live in a neighborhood where any of my neighbors would have responded the same. The same holds true for each and every promise to step in whether or not the opportunity arose. It’s knowing you would is all I need. It alone gives me strength to keep going.

We have reached the point in this journey when everything is tough. Where pain is constant, and just trying is an effort. But we will make it. Deb will keep up the advocacy along with her own journal. I will keep trying. Together we will see this to the end. Tonight, without Tom and Judy, I’m not sure how it would have ended. At the very least, my tree would be lying in state in our living room. Three separate pieces trying to be whole. I have learned a valuable lesson, If people want to help, I really should let them.

Generational Traditions

Christmas may come just once a year, but in all the hurry and busyness leading up to it, it’s easy to lose sight of what it truly means. Across the world, Christmas Day reminds us of the birth of Christ and the hope that entered the world with Him. But to me, Christmas is more than a single date on the calendar—it is a season of the heart. It is a season filled with generosity and kindness, with laughter shared in gatherings and joy found in celebrations. It is the thoughtful exchange of gifts, the comfort of favorite foods and treats, and above all, it is family. It is the blessing of being together, the beauty of connection, and the warmth of a shared family tradition.

When I was growing up, our family tradition was church on Christmas Eve and performing in the children’s presentation of the Christmas Story. After the mandatory delaying tactic visit to my aunt’s home, we would race home to eagerly open our gifts. Empty boxes and piles of wrapping paper later, my brothers and I would retire to coach to watch The Christmas Carol. We would start the movie snuggled in my dad’s arms. Although we didn’t make it to the end of the film, we saw Ebenezer Scrooge begin to change after meeting the three spirits.   Somewhere between the Spirit of the Present and the Spirit of Things yet to Come, sleep would overpower us. Dad would wake us and point us in the direction of our bedroom just as Tiny Tim was uttering his famous line, “God bless us everyone.” Repeated year after year it seeped into my very being. As I grew older, no Christmas was complete without the viewing of The Christmas Carol. When my daughters were born, they were the ones nestled under my arms on the couch and true to tradition, they would never make it to the end. Like my dad, with the movie ending, I would scoop them up and carry them off to their beds.

Through the years my own family has created our version of that tradition from my childhood. Influenced by my dad, my wife and I created our version of that family time during the Christmas season. It started simple with a trip to a movie and a dinner afterward. That first one being Paulie and dinner at TGI Fridays. I still remember watching the snow softly falling as we sat under the glass canopied side table eating dinner. Traditions have that effect of creating memories that are so vivid you remember every aspect of them. Over the years and as our daughters grew, the honoring of the tradition became tickets each year to the theatrical performance of A Christmas Carol. Now grown and parents themselves, they still hold to the core of that tradition, family time together in a Christmas activity. It always includes dressing up, a holdover from the stage performances, and dinner together now all planned by my daughters. Our last one was a stage performance and dinner in Chicago.

Now as the Opa to three grandchildren, the tradition of watching A Christmas Carol is me watching the movie on Christmas Eve as I await the arrival of our children and their families Christmas morn. But know this, it is my goal to follow the tradition with my grandchildren even if I must drag them to the couch, bribe them with treats, and force them to watch. I will let the movie do the rest. God bless them all.