My younger sister believed in angels. Since her death over 20 years ago I too like to think they exist and that she is now among them. When I see a white feather on the ground or blowing by I like to believe it has fallen from an angel’s wings. That maybe my sister or her winged friends have passed my way.
My parents are both terminal cancer patients. They live in two separate homes with their spouses. They live in two very different homes and neighborhoods. They have two very different lifestyles. But, they are intertwined in ways I can never fully understand. Their connection is powerful.
It is hard to wake each day to dying parents. I lived most of my life with the comfort of knowing my parents were only 21 years older than me. I joked that they, my sisters, and I would most likely end up in the same retirement community together. The elders in the family often lived soundly into their eighties and nineties then. Before cancer.
When my eyes open in the dark of the morning, before the sun rises and my alarm sounds. The weight of it all holds me down. I am afraid to sit up for fear that the day will knock me right back down. I try not to move. Maybe if I don’t move the day won’t happen and we won’t move one day closer to the end of my parent’s lives.
The angels in my visions have giant wings. Wings big enough to carry the weight of world upon them. They must be who lifts the weight that holds me down in the dark before the dawn. They must be who carries the weight of my world for me each day. They must be who gives me hope.
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This is beautiful, Casey. Poignant. ❤️
Patti…coming from a writer…I deeply appreciate your note. Putting any of this into words, as you know, is a challenge. But, it helps heal my from within. I am hope it helps others.
Casey
This is absolutely beautiful. I can definitely relate knowing how I felt as my husband Ernie fought cancer for 8 1/2 + years. Sadly, he died just four months ago. I know that he is one of those angels in heaven. Thank you for writing such an insightful piece about your family. You certainly touched my heart.
Pat…
I am sorry for your loss. I am sending a hug filled with love and healing. I have no doubt Ernie is one of my angels. Thank you for sharing him with us all. I appreciate your kind words.
Casey
Beautiful, Casey.
Thank you, Jessica. I appreciate it.
Such overwhelmingly sad news. Although it’s been years since I’ve seen them, they are always present in my memories of my early adulthood. The goose chasing toddler Julie at the farm, getting spooked touring the Des Moines house late at night, floating on the lake drinking beer, little Sloan making bottles for baby Lindsey. Such warm happy memories so long ago. Without seeing or talking much, I still feel the connection.
Jo
Jo…thank you for sharing your memories. The joy in those moments bring me joy. They are both incredible people. They share their laughter and love abundantly. We are lucky. Hugs to you. And, yes, we can still feel the connection too.
Casey
How comforting your angel feather thought is. I’ve lost both parents and a brother and a sister. I of course think of them often, and always when I see a cardinal. Adding you angel feathers to my heartspot!
Bridget…
I am sorry for all your loss. That is too much. I hope each Cardinal carries away some of your heaviness and leaves some air under your wings to hold you up when needed. I will think of peace when I see a Cardinal from now on. Let’s hope our lives are filled with white feathers and Cardinals 🙂 Peace to you.
Casey
I, too, have found feathers since my daughter Jennie’s brutal death in 2005. My family also finds pennies and know that she sends them. Finally, sometimes at night when driving or walking a street light will flicker off, just one, and we know that’s Jennie saying hello to us and letting us know she is with us always.
My youngest daughter was diagnosed with breast cancer in early 2015. She had a lumpectomy, radiation and is still on Tamoxifen (hopes to finish that next June.) My second oldest daughter was diagnosed with glioblastoma, grade 4 (brain cancer) in November 2017. She is now almost two years out and only 25% of patients with this diagnosis last two years. She’s doing well!
I am sorry both your parents have terminal cancer. We are never really old enough to do without them, and they are never really old enough to leave us and this world behind!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts in this beautiful blog.
Liz…
What a story. I am so sorry for your losses and your struggles. I am sending you a hug filled with love, peace, and strength. You are a warrior. I celebrate your youngest daughter’s survivor story. She is a warrior. Your family is all warriors. I am happy to hear you find pennies, feathers, and messages in the world around you. These little things, keep us all connected to the people we love and have lost. My wish for you is peace and joy. Thank you for reaching out and sharing part of your story.
Casey
Liz— we remember Jennie with you -always. So sorry for the added worry and pain. Prayers are with you.
And dear Casey-
May courage and strength and hope continue to guide your days. In the face of illness and pain it is hard to find joy and perseverance- but the grace of angels helps you know you are not alone and that there is still joy to be found. Thank you for this heartfelt and beautiful post.
Peg…thank you for your insightful words. I am grateful. It has been comforting to hear from so many. And, it does remind me…I am not alone. That is good to feel. See you soon…hug…Casey
Liz…in my earlier note I missed the opportunity to share my sympathies specifically for your daughter, Jennie. I would like to take this chance to say, I am sorry. And, again, thank you for sharing your story. It brings so many strength. Love…Casey
Thoughts and prayers to all of you. So very sorry for all that your family is facing.
Thank you, Joyce, so very much. I appreciate your thoughts and prayers. Every good intention carries us through our day.
Casey
Lovely writing. Hate that you are bearing this weight. Sending you a long hug.
Thank, Kelly. I appreciate your kind words about my writing. And, you long hug! Hugs are the best!
Casey
Casey,
I, too, believe in angels, and I believe our loved ones who’ve gone before us watch over us. I also find great comfort in my faith and in believing those loved ones are waiting to welcome us Home one day.
My little brother has been gone now 17 years. He was killed serving in our USAF – brutal industrial accident. I lost my beloved Gran to Alzheimer’s five years later, then my hero/my Papa six years after that. It never gets easier losing those we love, and I’m so sorry you’re getting double-whammied with both your parents having terminal cancer. Cancer sucks!
You’ll be in my prayers in the days ahead as you continue storing up these precious memories of your Mom and Dad. Treasure each moment, beautiful lady.
Love & prayers ❤️🙏🏻
KD
I am deeply sorry for your losses. So many stories of loss and love. I am grateful for your kind words and for taking the time to write. I believe connecting with others makes these challenges more bearable for all of us. Yes, the “double-whammie” is too much some days. But, it is what it is, as they say. So, we march on. Thank you for your prayers. You are generous. Love…
Casey
Beautiful . Heartfelt. Wishing all of you peace and love . Really beautifully written.
Thank you. The peace and love wishes are being soaked up by me right now! And, I certainly appreciate your compliments about my writing. You are kind. Hugs…
Casey
Much love to both of you . I remember these same days and feelings with my daughter when she wS fighting cancer to her last breath. I too see signs that she is with me. I offer you any and all strength you may need. Love you all – Deb 💜
Deb…
I am sorry for you loss. And, for sharing your story with me. It is nice to hear she is with you. It lets me know the angels are doing their work 🙂 I appreciate you offerings. It means so much to me.
Love to you too…Casey
Much love to both of you . I remember these same days and feelings with my daughter when she wS fighting cancer to her last breath. I too see signs that she is with me. I offer you any and all strength you may need. Love you all – Deb 💜
Deb…
I am sorry for the loss of your daughter. That is something no mother should have to experience. You are kind to share your story and to help hold me up the fight. You are an angel too. Love…Casey
At a service several years ago, the military chaplain speaking, said we all have a terminal illness. It’s called Life and for us to each enjoy the ride as best we can. Thinking of you. I know too many in the throes of this journey right now. Blessings.
Carol…
He is right. We never know what will happen next. One of the best family traditions and traits we share is laughter. Even at the dark times…we laugh. What a blessing. I appreciate your note. Hug…Casey
Beautiful, Casey. Thanks. Each day your mom and your dad are still with you – that’s some hope fulfilled. The angels are giving a wonderful gift.
John…
I agree. Our close knit family is a blessing. It makes the tough days hard, but I wouldn’t trade it in for the world. I am lucky to have you and D in my life. Hugs to you…Casey
Writing is so healing. You write beautifully. I took it back up as a part of my healing journey. There are so many little lessons learned along the cancer journey, some of them are even positive ( tho that is not to be confused with that “everything happens for a reason” b.s.)
Stay strong, remember to breathe…
Sarah Frog 🐸
Sarah…
I like your style. I too find the “…happens for a reason.” comment does’nt resonate with me either. I always preferred the…”we better create a reason why all this happened, so this hasn’t happened for no purpose at all.” Finding a lesson I can take from it. I don’t write as often as some people. But, when I do it does feel good. And, I often text to friends “Breathe”. It is nice to get the reminder myself. Thanks for sending your note. Hug…Casey
I know I’ve shared my story with you. My folks spent 7 years in assisted living. My dad had Alzheimer’s and there was much to address until he finally ended in a hospice bed, living with my mom. Everyone came to say goodbye but my mom couldn’t seem to realize that was necessary and lived her Parkinson life walking around him, feeling he was gone. I finally made her sit and hold his hand and tell him she was fine, would be okay, and he could go and know we were all cared for. Less than 12 hours and he was gone. My mom’s Parkinson continued to progresse but shr carried on. She had one episode of not being able to swallow her food, but with suction was ok for awhile. The second episode put her in the hospital. As a side note, I felt a heavy responsibility for appropriate decisions. Next thing I heard was she had chosen hospice over a feeding tube, with advice and listening from her doctor and spiritual care. Wait…I thought I was in charge. That was the first of many gifts she gave me over the next month. She was at Kansas City Hospice and “loved it.” The place is truly a Disney for the dying. So many of their staff come from ICU where they felt their job was torture, not nurture. My mom and I hadn’t had a lovey relationship. I spent the next month at hospice with her. We played games on the iPad, we had a Mother’s Day celebration where she wanted the taste of frosting. There came a point I cut off visitors and spent the last days with just the two of us. We expressed our love for each other, she told me how beautiful I was in royal blue. We held hands and slept in the same bed. She wanted to make sure she was clean, her hair was fixed, and she had pretty beads on. And then, my husband needed surgery. I explained to her that I had to go and if she needed to go we had spent a lifetime over less than a month and I would be back if I could. After my husband’s surgery we headed straight back to hospice. I told her I was there and my husband was fine. The grandkids were good and we would miss her but she needed peace. She passed within moments. Sad, yes…oh so much. But a wonderful ending for a life well lived. It was exactly a year from when my dad passed. I know this is a long story, but the two of you have been part of my life. Shopping in your store I feel the urge to share with you and share not to feel in charge but to just love and let your parents decide when they feel comfortable, knowing you are okay and they can go to a more peaceful place. I wish you love and comfort,
Marcia Perkins
Marcia…
We have been blessed with so many, sharing so many amazing stories. It proves that talking and sharing is healing and meaningful to all. Keep sharing you story with others. It will continue to heal you and help others.
Peace and love…
Casey