Miracles and Mormon Muffins

Hi, everyone. We have had a difficult week. Monday, February 18 my mom and Ernie took Jenny to the hospital because she quit speaking all together, had become very lethargic and lost some more coordination in the right side of her body. After waiting nine hours in the ER, and after a CT and an MRI, the doctors discovered that half of Jenny's brain was clouded in tumor and the other half was covered in abcess. As soon as mom and Ernie saw the scans for themselves they knew that the battle was over. It seemed the antibiotics weren't taking care of the infection and the cancer was also spreading. Together they decided instead of subjecting Jen to more surgeries, they would bring her home and make her as comfortable as possible for her final days. A strange burden seemed to be lifted from our shoulders as we began to feel the intention of the Lord. We are getting used to the idea. We are struggling but are somewhat at peace. Jenny, ironically, has popped back up after quitting the antibiotics. I was able to go to Utah, spend time with her and possibly say my final good-byes. She has become more alert than she has been for weeks and has gained some strength. What a blessing for her to be able to enjoy some more days with her family. I, for one, will treasure that gift forever.

Here's another e-mail she sent entitled "Miracles and Mormon Muffins." It was sent on December 28, 2006. Hope you like it.

On December 7, I officially became a one year cancer survivor. It’s cute that they make special little names for us – “victim” is a no-no – and I would agree with that. “Survivor” just sounds better I guess, but it always makes me think of the song “Eye of the Tiger”, and then I picture myself doing chin ups and pulling sleds of rock up an icy hill like Rocky in Rocky IV – that’s right, “eye of the tiger” that’s me.

To celebrate my “survivorship” we went to eat at the Greenery, one of my favorite restaurants and an old family favorite. We ate “Mormon muffins” and had some diet coke (I think their diet Coke is the best – my friend Jen calls it “crack water” – it’s true, that stuff will kill you). The waitress asked if it was a birthday or something and I explained to her that I was officially a one year cancer survivor. She is co-chair for the Relay for Life, an event that is held each year at Weber State to raise money for cancer research. She brought me a big decadent, gluttonous piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting (and a cherry on top) and she sang “happy one year anniversary”. My eyes filled with tears and I saw that my dad’s, Lesa’s and my mom’s were too. I hope that waitress understands what a service she did for me that night. It made everything really special. She’s also sending me a special invitation for the Relay for Life in August.

My last chemo treatment went really well. I didn’t feel as sick. On the third day of the Temodar cycle I took care of the kids for most of the day. We built a fort out of blankets. Both Erin and Phoenix were really excited about it. Phoenix just rolled around inside it, staring at the pictures of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet on the blanket. Phoenix can get anywhere she wants to go just by rolling and scooting. She sits up by herself now (which is amazing considering she has a pretty big head for such a little body!). Erin called the fort her “little house”. She squealed with laughter when she realized what I was doing with the big blanket. I was “Grandma” coming for a visit to see my “grandkids” (Carebears and a freaky looking doll that Erin loves).

I wrote about “miracles” in my journal and I thought I’d share part of it with you:

“. . . My whole world came to a sudden, terrible stop . . . I was deeply, terribly depressed, and without the Love of my Heavenly Father, I most assuredly would have remained that way. I’m here by His Grace and I must always be mindful of that fact. I may not experience the miracle of being cured, but the miracles I have experienced have been many. . .”

I look at Phoenix and I can’t believe how close I came to losing her. I am so thankful there was a doctor brave enough to take a chance on our unborn baby. They did so much work and research on my behalf. I feel so blessed and happy to have her in my life. She’s Ernie through and through and I love her so much. I also experience joy every single day. I remember wondering what I might be able to pray for. I knew people who were also young with children who undoubtedly prayed to be healed and who passed away. I wondered if I was questioning the will of our omnipotent God by asking to be healed; so I prayed that I would be able to feel joy again. I honestly never thought I’d feel that again. My whole world was twisted up into everything cancer, and now I sometimes go all day without thinking about it once. I woke up thinking about it; I went to bed thinking about it. Some days I would cry off and on the whole day, and now I can’t remember the last time I cried about it. It’s not that crying is bad, but I was wallowing in my own sadness and there were times that I literally felt the presence of the Adversary who wanted me to be miserable. The Lord was willing and able to ensure that I had joy in my life, but I believe he also wanted me to have the faith to ask for it.

I couldn’t have made it those first few harrowing months without the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the unfaltering love of my husband and family, and the sweet, kind acts of neighbors and even strangers. I don’t have the actual quote, but I believe it was Spencer W. Kimball who once said, “God does love us and watch over us, but it is usually through someone else that he meets our needs.” (I’m sure he was much more eloquent). Like the simple vase of tulips from a sister in my ward. For two weeks I kept them near the window in my kitchen, and when I would see them, I would think of spring and hope and better times. Tiny acts of kindness such as these got me through the darkest days of my life.

We had a terrific Christmas, and I hope that all of you did as well. Happy New Year!

Letters from Jenny

I've been going through some of Jen's old e-mails this week. It's hard to read them but also fun because it makes me feel closer to her. I've always been amazed and somewhat jealous of her writing ability and how she can make words speak to people so beautifully. She has always had such a writing talent.

I decided it would be fun to put some of those old e-mails on this web site so that people can get to know my sister better and see what a wonderful person she is. Although I am the oldest of us, I always felt that I had more to learn from Jen than she did from me.

The following is an excerpt from an e-mail dated April 11, 2006. It was written about 4 months after her diagnosis.

Hi everyone! I’m sorry I haven’t written for a while. Erin and I have been having a lot of fun with the sunny weather. Daylight Savings has been very beneficial to my mood, I’m sure it’s helped a lot of you out, too. My mom can’t wait to ride her bike in the mornings. She’s been working out at the gym. I can’t believe she wakes up at 5:00 every morning – I feel so lazy! Erin has been waking up at night. I think her internal clock get a little messed up with the time change.

Ernie didn’t have to work Saturday so he stayed home and cleaned out the garage (yea!). He said he didn’t realize what a pack rat he was becoming until he realized he was eventually either going to have to throw it away or move it. It’s so nice to have a 2 car garage again! The weather was so nice on Saturday. I opened the sliding glass door and Erin sat in the sun in front of the screen. I was sitting at the table and looked over at her. She was looking so angelic and peaceful and then she pulled up her shirt to reveal her belly button and said in a soft voice “Tickle? Tickle? Tickle?” Later in the afternoon we went to Farr West Elementary and flew kites on the field. Erin flew her own kite. She didn’t exactly understand the concept (she kept running after the kite, trying to catch it). Then she got tired of that and rolled around in the wet sand for a while. She was filthy! I think her Aunt Mindy would have had a heart attack if she had seen how dirty Erin was. Dallon is always very neat and respectable.

I’ve been thinking about an experience that I had while in Germany that I didn’t really understand at the time. I was in Erfurt at a street display at a place called “Anger” a wide open space where all of the trams met. Usually we would approach people as they were walking by. I used to say, “Hello, may I introduce myself?” (in German of course) and sometimes the person would wait long enough for me to tell them who I was before they would say, “no time” or “not interested” or “no need”. A lot of people in that part of Germany are atheist because of the communist teachings that religion was just “opium for the masses”. I once stopped a man who was short and a little stout (not like a tea pot). He was probably in his fifties, balding, with a gray beard and a kind face. I approached him and started the conversation. I asked him if he believed in God and we chatted. He asked why we (the missionaries) were all so happy and so we chatted awhile about Jesus Christ and redemption. Then he said to me, “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway. I’ve been out walking in the woods, thinking about life and death.” He then went on to tell me that he had recently been diagnosed with cancer and was going to have an operation the next day. He had been walking through the crowded pedestrian area when I stopped him. He told me that talking to me was like talking to someone he had known for a hundred years. He said he could tell that I spoke from my heart. We talked a little longer, and I don’t know if I’ve felt the spirit so strong before. As he was leaving, he told me there are people in your life that you only meet briefly but you never forget, he told me I was one of those people to him. I wanted to break down into a long hard sob right there. I knew that I had been a tool in God’s hands that day and that He directed me and guided me in giving comfort to this man. As someone who now walks the path he was walking, I understand how much a conversation like that would have meant to me under similar circumstances. Stephen R. Covey wrote that we are all tools in the Lord’s hands. Maybe you’re a saw and he needs a hammer, but if you keep your saw sharpened, when he needs a saw, you’ll be ready.

I found a quote that my first mission companion in Germany used to share with me by Harold B. Lee, “You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you.” That’s such a simple concept, but so spiritually powerful. We need to trust in God that if we just step into the darkness of the unknown, our eyes will adjust and we’ll be able to see the light before us. This is the picture I had in my journal underneath that quote. That’s me walking into the “darkness.”
This is another picture that I found in an Ensign in my last apartment on my mission. I didn’t write down the artist’s name, but the title of the piece is “The Initial Act” which reminds me of the story about a boy in Ireland who had been climbing on some rocks with his friends. The boy climbed down to a ledge and realized he could not climb back up. His friends ran and brought the boy’s father back, by which time it had become dark. The boy’s father called to him and told him to jump that he would catch him. The boy looked down and could hear his father’s voice but he could not see him. Again his father called out and told the son that he could see him and that he would catch him. The boy held his breath and jumped into the darkness only to be enveloped in the arms of his father who caught him without incident.

I feel like I’m learning a lot about trust right now. I put my whole trust in Him and know He lives and loves all of us. He understands our triumphs and our struggles and He is always there for us if we just have enough faith to accept Him into our lives.

Well, thanks for reading today! I am enjoying life! I’m feeling good and the new baby is doing well, too. She’s due May 29th for those who maybe want to know.

Jen