Day 516 The C word

I am familiar with the C word.  All too familiar.  I had my own C scare seven years ago and I lost my right kidney in the process. My mother has had non-Hodgkins lymphoma for six years.  She just completed a third round of chemo treatments this past December.  She's been one of the lucky ones. She has had virtually no pain, and despite losing her hair in the first serious go around, she has never gotten physically ill from any chemotherapy.  We have watched 'friends' of hers in the infusion room get sicker and weaker as she takes her treatments, many who have been taken by cancer.  I cannot count all the people I know who have had cancer, who currently have cancer, who have a family member who has/had cancer, or those who have died from cancer. Too many to count, for sure.

I have been following Joey + Rory's love story for months, and how Joey is now in her final days with cancer.  He posted this on his blog today; be prepared, bring tissues. http://thislifeilive.com/one-last-kiss/  (This link may not work as my vpn has been sketchy.  I encourage you to check out their story of love, faith, courage, and grace on thislifeilive.com)

And just this week, a high school friend, Toni, died from breast cancer.  She was an amazing pillar of strength and courage throughout her fight.  She and I were in marching band together in high school. You'll hear a bit more of my 'band days' later in this post. When she found out I was moving to China, we rekindled our friendship further through FB and Messenger.  On my 'down days' (sounds pathetic now to admit getting down over here when I have so much to be thankful), Toni was often one of the first ones to encourage me, all the while the cancer was taking over her body. She would often tell me how much she admired my courage for moving to China.  She was the courageous one in my eyes. She was released from her broken, tired body on 2/26/16.

I hate cancer.

If you remember from previous blogs, Len stayed with me in Beijing from December through mid-January.  Just before he got back stateside, he received word that his father had been in the hospital for over a week, but he didn't know the extent or the severity of his hospitalization.  Now, Len Sr. (Papa Len) had bladder cancer for nearly 30 years, and he went in routinely to have procedures done. All in all, his health was good.  Like my mother, when he needed a "tune up" done on his bladder, he seemed to sail through it all. It was during a routine visit that his doctor and friend of several decades gave him the news that began with, "I'm sorry friend..."  The cancer had metastasized to his kidneys, liver, bones, and I don't know where all else.  He was full of cancer, and nothing more could be done for him.

It was another week of waiting while Papa Len was in a rehabilitation place and home hospice could be arranged for him.  I flew home to Florida the day after the Senior Ceremony (1/23) and Len made reservations for us to fly to NJ to see his family on February 3rd.  By this time, his sister was already en route from her home state, taking a three month leave from her attorney's job to become a full time caregiver to her father.  Their mother (Len Sr.'s wife of over fifty years) is already a full time caregiver to her 98 year old mother who suffers from dementia.  Len's mother has been spread thin caring for a sickly husband (before his hospitalization) and her own mother, so his sister chose to leave her job to come fill in the gap.

What an act of love.

A few days before we flew out, Len's brother and his family were on their way down to NJ from their home further north.  It had been over six years since Len had seen his brother, his wife, and his growing niece and nephew.  He couldn't remember the last time all three siblings were together in their childhood home, perhaps it had been Papa Len's mother's funeral.  They say weddings and funerals bring people together.  This trip was a reunion that was both eagerly anticipated- and not- given the circumstances that were bringing them all together.  It was to be my first introduction to the rest of the family. It was bittersweet for us all.

The morning we arrived in NJ, Papa Len was being brought home from rehabilitation.  The hospice nurse arrived that afternoon, along with the hospital bed, and then eventually the man of the hour. Where to put the hospital bed was the first of many, many decisions the three siblings were faced with in the coming days.  We all pitched in, quickly removed furniture, and rearranged the front living room where everyone could gather and be close with him.  It was also the first best decision of the week, for Papa Len to be surrounded by his family, day in and day out.

There was lots of music and laughter those three days... like the
time the boys took their father camping, and according to Papa Len,
 "You left me out there!"  The boys, of course, had no
recollection of that, but Papa Len was insistent, lol.  Papa Len
thoroughly enjoyed listening to his kids making music- music
he so dearly loved.  He said he never knew the boys could play
guitar as they do. It was good they decided to bring their guitars; 
the second best decision- it helped them to reconnect, too.  :) 

With the grandkids playing in his wheelchair, the girls
visiting, and the boys on their guitars, Len's sister went to
 her father and asked him if he was hungry.  He replied, 
"No, I'm just happy."  That broke her.  It broke me, too.
Surrounded by the love of your family- that's where it's at.

You see, back in the day, Papa Len was a Mummer, and he performed on his accordion in several string bands.  Music was probably his first love, truth be told.  He mostly played by ear, and did he ever have an ear for music.  We talked music and marching band and traded stories.  I told him that music probably saved me in high school, to which Papa Len said, "It saved me, too."  He told me he didn't know how to deal with people or his emotions very well. He said he would pound it out and work it out on his organ for hours at a time.  From the few stories I have heard, I gather that Papa Len was a troubled man, and often misunderstood.  What he lacked in friends, he found in companionship with his accordion playing in the Mummers, performing in parades and concerts year round.  The following link gives you a taste of the pageantry and silliness of the Mummers: Mummers marching in Philly.

In their four and a half minute show, I can imagine that Papa Len felt like somebody, and it probably brought him tremendous joy seeing others happy watching their theatrics and listening to their music as they competed in parades and performed in concerts.  I remember feeling the very same way playing my trumpet in Concord's Giant Marching Minutemen band. Music can certainly transport someone to another place and time, something I desperately needed in my own troubled teenage years. I am happy for us both that we found respite in music and marching.  We connected, he and I.

Buoyed by his family around him, he was feeling pretty good the second day we were all gathered. While Len was playing guitar, I suggested we try to bring his keyboard over to him to play.  He had not played it in a few months or so.  Using the hospital tray table, we were able to balance the keyboard, and adjust his bed so he could comfortably reach the keys.  He probably played close to two hours! He loved big band music, so I was trying to think of every song my grandparents and parents ever danced to. Before long, he was able to plunk each and every song out :)

He was having such a good day, by that evening, Kim
convinced the family to gather for a photo.  The boys
got Papa Len in the wheelchair; sadly, it was his first and
last time to use the chair.  And for what seemed like
the umpteenth time that day, everybody was smiling :)

Len has said that I haven't had pizza until I have experienced
 Jersey pizza, so we went to the neighborhood pizza joint that 
the family has gone to for years.  When the pizza guy learned
 I was from China, by way of Indiana and Florida, he knew
he had an audience. He invited me behind the counter where
I watched him make pizzas, He spun and threw the dough,
and made an entire pizza in mere minutes.  I then got a
lesson on the pizza oven itself, and it was interesting :)
Oh, and the pizza was DELISH!!!

  

If anybody deserved to polish off the
bottle of wine after dinner, this girl did.
In the four days and three nights that
we were there, I don't think she slept a
total of six hours, tending to her father's
every need.  The hospice nurse implored
her to take care of her own needs, as
Len Sr. could be in hospice for three
to four months....little did we know.

On the last night we were all together, we
celebrated Papa Len's birthday two days early.
He wasn't up much for cake, but he sure enjoyed
his ice cream.  Len found my favorite, dulce de
leche gelato, and coffee ice cream for his dad, on a
grocery run. For the last two days, Papa Len and I
 would have ice cream dates and I would sit on his bed.
I barely knew the man, but I felt something
special there.  I'm honored to have spent
that time with him, and happy his own
children allowed me to do so.

One afternoon, Len took me for a drive down to Perth Amboy,
NJ, to Raritan Bay and the Raritan Yacht Club to look
at sailboats.  Established in 1865, it is the oldest Yacht
Club in New Jersey, and is one of the oldest in the US.

Raritan Bay is south of Staten Island, and Lower New York Bay.
While a few boats were in the water, most were up on the hard
for the winter season.  It was a gray, cold winter's day, indeed.

My attempt to be a figurehead :-)
It was nice to get out of the house for a few
hours, driving around in his father's car,
seeing a bit of Len's old stomping grounds.

  

I met Len's parents for the first time this past
summer.  We were in the midst of moving my
things from Indiana to our home in FL- by
way of NJ (it was a haul, y'all!)  There are
several things Papa Len gave us, that he wanted
us to have.  First was his Uncle Terp's dresser.
On top of the dresser sits a model lobster boat
that Papa Len built.  These are along our accent
wall that we built.  It's the first thing you see
when you walk in our home, and it makes me happy.

Papa Len was also insistent that his son
Len take his accordion. It was too heavy
to handle, and he seldom played it any
more.  Just over a week ago, a few nights
before I flew back to China, we got out
the accordion and plunked around on it.
Neither of us had any idea what we
were doing, but we shared some laughs
over it.  It's a beautiful instrument,
and man, is it ever heavy!  I need to
You Tube some videos on how to play it.
What a precious gift, father to son.

Rest in peace, Olav Leonard Olsen

02/07/1939 - 02/17/2016