Author Archives: cherylb

Dad and Daniel

Dad and Daniel

Mom is fading. I’ve been seeing her everyday in Hospice care. I pray I did not act hasty but the surgeon gave her as short as 3 days or as long as six months, and she is in such pain.

This care home I found is so clean and beautiful, with such nice staff, but at the same time I’m SO sad that Mom isn’t home in Hawaii, where she is desperate to be, or at least still in my own house — in the guest room I created for her, or finally, even in a city she knows. She’s in a strange place in a strange city with unknown people.

I know she is safe, and clean, and comfortable, but I’m heartbroken she is in this place that means nothing to her, a city that means nothing to her, while at the same time I’m relieved as to how much care she is receiving.

Clif is on his way to see Mom today. His plane arrives today. He will stay with me a few days while he sees Mom. He will be so anxious and broken when he sees how far she has declined. He is not prepared for it, thinking he can “take her lunch” when I’m just pleased she opens her eyes and recognizes me.

Kathleen starts chemotherapy soon. She is a terrible state and I don’t know when she’ll make it up to see Mom for the last time. She is carrying her own burdens.

I’ve been praying that you bring Mom home to you guys, as soon as you can, so that she isn’t miserable and suffering, or, show me another way — can you make her healthy and stable? I don’t want her gone for my convenience, but I’m adrift knowing how to take care of her up here in these mountains, with such access problems with Kaiser and Medicare. It frightens me to be on this “island of uncertainty.”

Mom came for a visit and never got to go home — it’s just a tragic set of circumstances to leave her house that way, not saying goodbye to her friends and her life in Hawaii, and ending up here, on a strange lifeboat with strange faces, knowing this may be where she dies.

Please bring Mom home to be with you. Please, Dad. Please, Daniel. HELP US.

I miss you both and I love you both.

xox
Kristy

To my husband Michael

To my husband Michael

May 21, 1958 – February 28, 2017

Missing you at Christmas 2021
I haven’t been happy since I can’t remember when because you have gone and left me and won’t be back again.
The road is dark and dreary, I can hardly find my way, still hoping and praying that we will meet again someday.
I often sit and think of you when I am all alone, for memory is the only friend that grief can call its own.
Live ivy on the withered oak when all other things decay, my love for you will still keep green and never fade away.

Luckie

Luckie

You no longer greet me as I walk through the door. You’re not there to make me smile, to make me laugh anymore.

Life seems quiet without you – you were far more than a pet. You were a family member, a friend, a loving soul I’ll never forget.

It will take time to heal – For the silence to go away. I still listen for you and miss you every day.

You were such a great companion, constant, loyal and true. My heart will always wear, the paw prints left by you.

Mom/Grandma Rose

Mom/Grandma Rose

Today is your birthday, without candles and cake. And since you are not with us, we won’t celebrate.
On a sad day like this, there is not much to say. We ask God to honor you, in his own special way. To grant our one wish and make it come true, to have his choir of Angels sing “Happy Birthday” to you.

Brian W. Neel

Brian W. Neel

You had a talent for bringing special meaning to life,
It was such a pleasure to be your wife.
You helped me to grow and to realize the fullness and the beauty in our lives.
Every day I counted my blessings.
Then God called, and you went away.
Out of this world to a brighter day.
Suddenly my life of gladness
Turned to utter sadness. My grief wears me down,
I shed so many tears,
As I recall your love and devotion through the years.
For your sake and in memory of your name,
I pray for strength to do things the same.
To reach out, to fill the hours with useful ways,
To comfort, to cheer and have no more empty days.
I try to console myself — it was God’s greater plan, so I must accept it, if I can.
You moved away to His splendid home above,
If there is life after death, I know you will be waiting there for me,
with love. Though Heaven and Earth divide us, and the distance is so great,
I count my blessings for the years you were my mate.
I will live my life remembering, while you wait, slumbering.
My beloved, may you rest in peace.