Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Counting the days...
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Thankful Every Day for You
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Life is life, fight for it.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
God Has Blessed Me with Many Angels
Friday, September 20, 2013
Parent's Weekend
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Happy to Say...
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Book Signing Blessings!
Friday, August 30, 2013
Don't You Forget About Me...
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Time to Soar
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Move-In Day
Monday, August 12, 2013
Table For Four
Friday, August 9, 2013
Roots and Wings
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Permission to Grieve
Permission to Grieve ~ by Lisa Atham
"I remember four years ago August very clearly. The focus was on my oldest daughter Carly going off to college. She was only going an hour away to Monmouth University, however, I still felt sad that she wouldn't be living home anymore. Don't get me wrong, I also felt happy, proud and excited as well but the grief was the emotion that I was feeling the strongest. I realized during that summer and fall the importance of listening to others when they share their sadness over changes in their lives. I truly needed someone to listen to me but had trouble finding people who would truly just listen. Instead, when I did share about my feelings of grief, most people were not at all supportive and even looked at me strangely and said with a judgmental tone, "Aren't you happy for her?", "Isn't her going to college a good thing?", "I couldn't wait till mine left." I walked away from most of these interactions feeling unheard, frustrated, and feeling that that there was something wrong with me. After all there are commercials on TV showing parents pretending to be sad when the kids leave home and then jumping for joy and throwing parties. So what was wrong with me? Why couldn't I only feel happy and thrilled at this wonderful opportunity for Carly? I guess I wasn't supposed to be sad or at the very least I wasn't supposed to talk about it.
So I stopped telling others how I felt. I also vowed to become a better comforter of others when they shared with me any sadness or pain in their lives. I also wanted to teach others how to really listen to their friends, loved ones and co-workers when they shared anything emotional. I would remind them not to try to fix it or to be so quick to offer advice. Just listen and try to understand. It isn't hard to really listen, but it is a skill that we would all benefit from practicing. I wish that listening was taught in school. Our relationships would improve immensely.
Grief is not only due to a death or divorce, but grief can come from any type of separation, ending or change in our lives. I found myself comparing my loss to other's losses. As a grief counselor, I warn folks not to do this. I shamed myself when I thought of all of those I know who have lost a child through death and knew that this loss could not even come close. Minimizing my loss though didn't help. My grief felt like an ending. It was the beginning of the end of my experience of being the kind of mom as I had been for the past 17 years. It was the beginning of my children becoming independent and not needing me in the same way as they had before. I know that is what is supposed to happen and all about giving our children roots and wings, but knowing that didn't make it feel any better.
I loved having all of my kids home and around. I don't think that will ever change. I started to wonder about other parents. Weren't they sad as well? How can we live with our children for 17, 18 or 19 years and then drop them off at college without us experiencing any feelings of grief? I came up with many ideas: Maybe some didn't really like being with their kids. Maybe some were denying their true feelings of sadness or just pretended they were "fine". Maybe some were truly anxious to get back to their own lives that didn't involve their children as much. Whatever it was, I wanted to find the other parents who felt like me. I was on a mission. I even ran a workshop in town four years ago called: They're Excited About Going Away to College, But What About Us? About ten moms attended the workshop and it was great to share with each other.
Over the past four years I have spoken with many moms and dads who have shared their own grief with me about their children leaving home. Often with couples, it is one parent who expresses sadness more than the other. Some confide to me that it is their own spouse who "shamed them" about their feelings of grief, especially if the dad was grieving.
I recently had the pleasure of meeting a Navy Seal dad at a Long Island AAU basketball tournament, who shared with me that of all the experiences he has had in his life, including that of a Seal, nothing was as hard as dropping his oldest daughter off to college last year and saying goodbye. He told me how he cried the whole drive back. He has five children and is already grieving about his second child who is a high school senior who will be going away next year. I felt such a sense of validation from this kind father's honest sharing. It helped me to feel better about my own feelings. Sometimes just talking to others who feel similarly to the way we feel can help enormously. We don't feel so alone and we feel a bit more "normal".
Anyway, if you are a parent who has a child going away to college and you feel sad, find people who will listen to you and show comfort. Allow yourself to feel the grief. Don't talk yourself out of how you feel. Find support on Facebook as many parents I see lately doing. "Pack lots of tissues" one mom said in a post to another who shared that they were on their way to college.
It really does get easier, although I will confess that each year she packed up and left I cried. One time Carly said, "Mom, I am a senior at college. We have been through this many times. Why do you still cry when I leave?" "I don't know", I sniffled, "I just miss you." I guess it's love or neurosis, but that is who I am. I know I will cry when my younger ones leave the nest as well, but at least they all know how I get, so it won't be a surprise to them. Who knows maybe it makes them realize just how much they are loved. I hope so.
Listening is a high art of loving. Ask yourself, "When is the last time I really listened to my child? My parent? My brother or sister?" When someone is ready to share, three magic words amplify your connection, and they are, "Tell me more." ~ Rev. Mary Manin Morrissey
END
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
My Debut Book Reading and Signing!
Monday, July 1, 2013
Coincidence?
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Praise the Lord, I passed the PET!
Monday, June 3, 2013
May God Bless You with an Angel
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Every Ache is a Pain
I was almost out the door to pick up my 10 year son from school, preoccupied with being late because my oncologist had been an hour behind schedule, when I was reminded by a persistent pain in my hip that I had forgotten to mention to the doctor. It's a pain that I've had for a few months and it can actually take my breath away if I move wrong every now and then.
Now, I'm not trying to be dramatic, but the truth, for me at least, is that even the smallest ache that doesn't subside in time causes pause for concern - is it cancer? Admittedly, that's what goes through my mind when I have a nagging ache that cannot be tamed by Advil or Tylenol.
I know that chemotherapy and the Tamoxifen I take can cause joint pain, but unfortunately, so can cancer. So when I casually and sort of "Oh by the way" mentioned it to my oncologist, he promptly returned me to the exam room. "I don't think it's cancer, but you'll need an MRI so we can see what's going on." He said.
Knowing full well that breast cancer often travels to the bones, it took me back to all the testing I had to do when I was first diagnosed and it got my over active imagination going again. I'm sure it's what I had suspected, residual side affects from the cancer treatment, or, um, old age, but nevertheless, my mind, oh how it wanders.
Please pray for me while I will wait for the MRI and subsequent results (probably within the next few weeks). In the meantime, I will try to make light of this by recalling and trying to believe the wisely spoken words of Arnold Schwarzenegger "It's not a tumor!"
http://youtu.be/6ucfgdFrlho
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
It's not me, it's you.
I'm so tired of the pokes and prods and multiple failed attempts to get a 'good' vein, and what's more, I'm tired of listening to the technician actually try to blame me! "Your blood clots really quickly, the needle must be clogged." "Did you not drink enough fluids today?" "You need to hold as still as possible!" That last one is next to impossible - clenching my fist as a rubber band cuts off all remaining feeling in my arm, all the while fighting back tears and a general feeling that I'm about to pass out.
I liken it to going to the dentist and as the hygienist is stabbing your gums and making them bleed, she says "Wow, your gums are really bleeding, are you not flossing?" Hmph!
The predictably painful ritual of having my blood drawn may seem like a trivial complaint compared to the events of the past year, but I find that it's a bit like adding insult to injury....or better put, adding insult AND injury to injury.
Today, I asked the gal if she was good at drawing blood from the hand and she replied "We'll see!" She wasn't.
Really...it's you, not me, phlebotomist!!
I meet with my oncologist next week for the results...I'll keep you poked...er, uh, I mean posted.
xo
Lisa
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Opening up College Decision letters are like opening presents on Christmas Morning...
Mostly busy being team mom for my oldest son's tennis team - his last year as a De La Salle Spartan. It's been a wonderful four years.
When your prospective college student begins to receive admission decision notifications, it's a lot like watching them open presents on Christmas morning - because sometimes they get everything they hoped for, sometimes they get something unexpected, sometimes they get exactly what they expected, and sometimes they're disappointed. Only difference is that as a parent, you no longer have any say or control over what their outcome is. Of course, YOU think your child deserves to get everything they've hoped for, but not everyone else in the real world does. And for our son, and us too, this has been the experience we have had with the recent completion of college decision letters to arrive.
While my son didn't get everything he hoped for, he got some unexpected, exciting, and wonderful choices. And we're quickly realizing that sometimes your Plan B in life, really is meant to be your Plan A. As I write this we are headed to visit Clemson, Purdue, and Villanova, and though I'm excited for my son getting to choose a college, it's a bittersweet journey for me. In less than 5 months time, our family of five will transform into a family of four, with Alec anywhere from 600 to 2-3 thousand miles away.
We'll be able to get a booth at restaurants, so I guess there's one perk to look forward to. Sadly, there'll be less laundry to do, less food to prepare, less mess in the bathroom, and a generally different dynamic.
I often find myself thinking "one year ago this time, I was sick, going through chemo, had no hair, etc". With each day that passes, my unimaginable journey becomes more and more distant and occasionally, I am able to think about the future in more than increments of three months (or when every blood test is pending results). I thought battling cancer was difficult, and believe me it was, but letting go of your first born is proving to be gut wrenching. I find myself crying often.
However, I'm certain that the maturity and experiences my son is so ready for are waiting for him this fall, somewhere on a college campus far away from home. I take solace in the fact that as unready as I am for this, he has never been more ready.
My mother told me that good parents work themselves out of a job. She was right. As difficult as this is, I'm so grateful I'm here to be a part of this transition my son and my family are about to go through. In many ways I have worked myself out of a job with Alec...but I'm still on the clock with my two other employers (Jillian and Josef)...oh yes, how life does go on.
xo
Lisa
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Here I Sit...
Speaking of brain, for me and most cancer patients I imagine, cancer has a way of growing, figuratively that is, in the brain every day. I wonder often if every ache, pain, or even tiny twitch is a cancer cell emerging and gaining a foothold again. I worry, if it does come back, will it be in a part of my body that I can spare? For I'm quickly losing nonessential body parts I'm able or willing to do without!
Since completing chemo, breast cancer has recurred for a fourth time in a dear friend of mine, and has all too recently been discovered in another dear friend of mine as well. I'm so sorry for my sisters in this war against cancer, because I'm sadly familiar with the journey they will be encountering as they respectively resume and begin battles of their own with this equal opportunity disease.
Once accompanied by a family member to each and every cancer appointment imaginable, I now sit alone (with my iPhone), as life does and MUST go on for everyone around me. I realize I did not tell anyone about my appointment because I didn't want to think about it until it was happening. With my stomach doing flip flops and with regret now for my lunch choice prior to this appointment, my oncologist finally enters the room.
30 MINUTES LATER
My nervousness is replaced by relief as my doctor has informed me that my tumor markers are in the normal range, and since I have no other symptoms at this time, things are looking good for now. I take a deep breath, thank God and my doctor for the good news...then I somberly schedule my next appointment and bloodwork for three months from now.
Because cancer, its treatments, and the followups compartmentalize your life so much, I live with small, focused and short term goals - having lunch with a cherished friend, cooking and sharing a meal at the end of the day with my family, planning a college visit or three over Easter break, baking a cake and eating a slice in bed while watching TV with my kids, imagining what I will wear and how much I will cry at my son's high school graduation, and looking forward to warmer and longer spring days ahead.
With love,
Lisa
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Better, Stronger, Faster
Here's a couple of pictures from a Sunday drive Steve and I took with Josef a few days ago...as you can see, I have about two inches of hair!
xo
Lisa