this blog
Have you ever just marveled at your senses? How you have
these amazing gifts from God, the gift of sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing,
and how these senses help us store information and create memories. If you ask
me, I will tell you that I believe the ability to recall a moment in time “a
memory” by using our senses is one of those things – that if you thought about
it, you would have to admit that there is definitely a Creator to this
universe, our bodies and our minds.
As most of you know, I have been battling Cancer for 3 years
now. I am beyond blessed to have made it this far on this journey. I continue
to have hope, that I will survive even longer. But should the Lord decide that
my task here is complete and it is time to come home, well I’ll be okay with
that too. I have such great memories of a life that was not all bad.
Although the Cancer has wreaked havoc on some of my senses
(all of them actually), I still have memories and occasionally when I have a
bleak day, my senses will come back, and the memories will just flood my mind.
I often time find myself weeping (tears mostly of joy) at the memories. I
wanted to share some with you if that is okay.
SMELL:
Smelling things is divine. There are some fragrances that
transport me back to a time and a place. The smell of Vanilla (the spice)
reminds me of the Vanilla plant in Richmond, VA. There were certain streets
between VCU and the Diamond that smelled of Vanilla when they were producing
the Vanilla Extract. Of course, that smell reminds me of College, Cruising the
Strip (lol – good times), and growing from a teenager to a young-adult.
Magnolia blossoms must be one of the most heavenly smells.
When I smell it, I am reminded of walking between classes at John Tyler Community
College and second chances. It transports me to conversations between me and
mama (held at her work John Randolph Hospital) and my days being pregnant with
my daughter. My mother’s laundry is another smell that I love. I know the
products she used, but even when I use them, my laundry never smells like hers.
Those are sweet special memories.
There is this one smell thought that reminds me of a night
that my memories are very blurred. The smell of fire. If you have ever
experienced a burnt down building, than you will know this smell. It is not the
same smell as say a fire roasting marshmallow, or a fireplace fire. It is a
smell I cannot describe, but yet I know it. I was 4 years old and asleep in my
bed. I remember being woken up by my mom and stepdad grabbing me and a blanket
and running down the steps and out the door of our apartment. I remember my mom
running me over to a neighbor’s home and banging on the door (a building not
connected to the one we lived in). I remember that lady and my mom leaving me
and her daughter in the house and telling us not to leave or open the door for
anyone. They ran out. I remember me and the red-haired girl (I think her name
was Amy) watching things unfold from her bedroom window. There below were a
bunch of neighbors and my parents trying to get people out of the unit next to
ours and the one next to that. I remember sirens and lots of people coming and
going and the flames. Days later you
could smell that “fire” smell of burnt belongings and charred debris. That smell
is haunting. Except…it isn’t. You see that was the first time in my life I can
honestly say, God had me. This happened in 1978 and the apartment community was
newly built. It had cut corners by installing “fire-walls” only in every third
or fourth unit. Guess what we were one of those units. Our neighbors lost
everything, and our unit was untouched. My parents did not know that as things
were happening and they would talk about how there was no smoke alarm, that it
was a smell that woke them up. It’s definitely a memory.
SOUND:
What can I say people I am a child of the 80s. My entire
world is shaped by the sound of music and sounds. I remember my first concert,
my first album that I played on my own little record player, the voices of my
loved ones, characters from shows and movies. There are so many memories tied
to sound. The cancer has taken away hearing in my left ear and left in it’s
place a constant humming. Sometimes that noise clears a bit and I bask in the
glory that is solid two-eared hearing. My absolute favorite memory involving
sound, was this cute one with my daughter. She was about 2 or 3 years old, and
she was secure in her car seat, and we were driving. I remember this song came
on the radio, Dixie Chicks “Goodbye Earl” and I could hear her in the backseat
singing along to the song. I remember looking in the rearview mirror and seeing
her belting out the song…and then she saw me!
LOL – she glared at me and stopped singing. She was so mad that I had disturbed
her little concert for one.
One of the saddest memories I have is also tied to sound. I
remember the sound my father made as he was passing away, how his breathing slowed
and stopped. It was hard to let him go, and it was even harder seeing him
struggle to breathe. That rattle sound dying people make (death rattle) is a
hard thing to experience. I can honestly say that he did not want to die and
fought for that last breathe. But, even in that moment of grief and struggle,
God was there. My father and I did not have a close relationship and there were
so many things we did not get to say to one another. On that deathbed, I did
not know if he wanted me there, or if he had ever loved me. Those were words
that he had never spoken to me. He had written them in birthday cards, and
hugged me occasionally, but he never said how he felt about me. In my mind on
his deathbed, all I knew was that I had disappointed him in so many ways. I
just knew I would never have peace about that relationship…and then he had this
last moment of semi-clarity. He woke up, struggled with his catheter, and
looked at me. He hugged me. I hugged him. I told him I was there, and it was
okay to let go and to not struggle anymore. I told him I loved him. He leaned
into me and said, “You aren’t bad” and then something about his brother, Joe.
Now, that may not sound like “I Love You” – but before he woke up, I was
holding his hand confessing all my “badness” as a daughter. To me, it meant he
heard me, and that was him saying “I love you”. It was perfect closure. After
he died, I found all these keepsakes in his nightstand, including a program
from the day I graduated high school. He could only have had that if he
attended. I never knew he was there. It still breaks my heart a bit to know
that we could have been so much closer, if only we had tried more.
SIGHT:
You know that question that you have heard time and time
again, “would you rather lose your sight or lose your hearing”. Hands down I
want to keep my sight. There’s so much beauty on this earth. The waters,
mountains, architecture, animals, etc. So much to see. God gave us so much
beauty. I am not sure I can say for sure what my favorite thing is to see. There
is too much to choose from.
Up until I was a senior in high school, my family sold
Christmas Trees at my stepdad’s place of business every December. It was a
family endeavor. My stepdad and Pawpaw would be outside selling trees, loading,
and securing trees to vehicles. They would come inside and hand the tag over to
my Mamaw. She would take the tag and money and give them back a receipt and a
calendar. My stepdad had calendars printed every year and he handed them out at
Christmas. Well, those that know – know that he had 2 types printed. One that
was family oriented (nature or animals) and one girly one. It was the cutest
thing – because my Mamaw would hand out the girly one to certain men and
blush…oh my goodness she would blush. She would also purse her lips in a “you
know better” kind of way. But she found it funny. She really did. Oh, those
days. They were filled with family, laughter, and my favorite part -eating
pizza in front of a kerosene heater and watching Christmas specials on a black
and white tv set. I will never forget those times.
There is this one moment though, that I know God created
just for me. It was on one of our last days of vacation. We had traveled, me,
my ex-husband and daughter, to Arizona. We squeezed in a quick trip to the
Grand Canyon. I wanted a picture of the sun setting in the canyon. I got out of
the car in an area marked with “caution of mountain-lion” signs. I did not care
about my safety – I wanted that picture. I went out to the clearing, and it was
BEAUTIFUL. The canyon becomes this glistening ball of pinks and blue-oranges.
It is amazing. I only had a few seconds there, but that image, that awesome
creation was just for me. God gave me a peaceful moment with him and his
majestic creation. I will never forget that moment and that vision.
TASTE:
Are you a friend of mine? If so, then you know I eat and
love food. I definitely love tasting good foods like pasta, pickles, strawberry
(anything), cheese. I have my favorites. I think my favorite taste is chocolate
and peanut butter (hello Reese’s). I remember I went to Hershey Park and in
their Reese’s Shop, they had a Reese’s Pie (I mean the size of a Pizza Pie). I
almost lost the people I was with right there. I could not move. It was the
most heavenly thing I had ever seen (so my mouth said). They sell the Reese’s
“Pound” Cup now. Close but not quite a whole pie.
There are things I use to not like to taste: coffee,
broccoli, beans – and now they are some of my favorite foods and drinks. So,
our taste buds definitely grow and change throughout the years. I cannot say I
have any bad memories with taste. But I do know one that was created by
God. My grandmother’s (Evelyn) coconut
cream pie. That was one of the best things I have ever tasted. And she knew we
loved it. Every time we would go visit, there would be two fresh pies on the
counter, one to eat there and one to take. I have looked at that recipe – that
was a lot of work. She made those pies out of pure love. She also kept a jar of
pickles in the fridge – just for me. To this date, I still make her version of
Butter Beans and Corn for Thanksgiving. I have taught it to my daughter, and
she will pass that down further. But that pie…I will not make. I think I might
cry if I made it. It was her – she was “coconut cream pie” – and it was (she
was) heavenly.
TOUCH:
An embrace, a kiss, a handshake, a fist-bump – what cannot
be said about human connection. Touching satin, lace, tulle, silk for the first
time is quite an experience. The feel of flannel pajamas under a thick fleece
blanket in the winter – nothing compares. So much of our life is spent in
touch. We touch our phones, keyboards, cars, keys, remotes, paper, books, etc.
We are constantly feeling things. There are horrible touches (my daughter would
say a snake is her nightmare feel/touch), for me it is death. I have always
been creeped out by touching dead things. I had the misfortune of being teased
by neighborhood boys and a dead mouse as a child – and never shook the image and feel of a cold,
bloated, lifeless body. When I think of how much loss my 22-year-old daughter
has experienced, I have to say Thank You to God for the fact that I didn’t
experience too much death at a young age. There was an odd neighbor, a friend from
school and a few animals, but that was it. I lost two of my three grandfathers
in the 90’s, but I was an adult. By the time my daughter was 14, she had lost
half of her grandparents, and almost all my mother’s side of the family. That
said, death did start visiting me in mass numbers by the time I was 30. My
mother’s family died at an accelerated rate, one after the other. I remember at
my grandmother’s funeral, I realized that they were dying backwards (my mom’s
siblings) and that if that were true, she was next. Sure enough she was. Up
until my mother’s death, I had given quick touches at bodies in caskets. Come
on people are watching and you must – because everyone else is. You go up touch
a hand and say a quick goodbye. But it was my mom.
I arrived early for the wake. I wanted to be alone with her.
I did not want to fall apart in front of all the people that would be coming. I
was not on friendly terms with her spouse, or his family (not by my doing) and
I just wanted to be alone with her – just her and me. I’ll be honest with you –
it was the only time in my life where my prayer was something crazy “Lord just
let her wake up, Lord let me just talk to her one last time” – they were sad,
and I was lost. I walked into the room, looked, and read every card and flower
that had arrived. I slowly made my way to her. In that moment, God helped me
overcome my fear of dead things. I did not see her as a dead body. I saw her as
my mom. I leaned in hugged her, kissed her cheek, and told her everything that
was in my heart. She was beautiful, even in death. I hid a picture of her
holding me in her casket and placed the red rose my father had sent and the
yellow rose my stepfather had sent into her casket. Then God entered the room,
calmed me down, hugged me and gave me the strength to burry her. I do not think
I knew how strong I was until she died.
It was strength I would need again only six months later
when I buried my dad and again 4 years later when I was diagnosed with Cancer.
I carry them with me everywhere I go. I carry their love, their dreams and
hopes for me – everywhere I go.
These memories are pure joy. There are so many good ones,
like: beating up boys (thank you Jeremy and Brian), playing in the yard with
Kim (BARBIES!!!), watching my oldest sister get married (it meant we were
growing up), singing Jimmy Buffet with Heather, giving birth do my daughter
(and all that Brittany has given to me), learning to love photography with
Beverly, learning that homemade food is better than pre-packaged (thank you
Jenny), learning that it’s okay to be alone (Amiee – that was a tough one),
seeing my boss’ face before surgery (reassuring – weird I know), to meeting my
long lost sister – Christina (thank you Dad), to feeling God’s enormous
presence in my life (THANK YOU CANCER).
Memories are such an amazing gift from God. Before it is too
late – share one with someone you love. It’s never too late to create a lasting
picture of a moment of love with someone.
Scriptures:
Luke 2:19 “but Mary treasured up all these things, pondering
them in her heart.”
Psalm 143:5-16 “I remember to think about the many things
you did in years gone by. Then I lift my hands in prayer, because my soul is a desert,
thirsty for water from you.”
Philippians 1:3-6 “I thank God for you whenever I think of
you. I always have joy as I pray for all of you.”
Proverbs 10:7 “The memory of the righteous is a blessing…”
Psalm 112:6 “Surely he will never be shaken. The righteous
man will be remembered forever.”
John 14:26 “But the helper, the Holy Spriit, whom the Father
will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your
remembrance all that I have said to you.”
CANCER AND THE LOSS OF SENSES:
