Even in Our Darkest Hours.......

As most of you who know me know, I may not be fearless in most walks of my life, but in blogging, I typically am. I usually have no fear of what I say or how I say it. Today though is different. 

I have wanted to write today's blog piece for a while, and when I finally got the permission to do so, all my writing fearlessness flew out the window, so it has taken me a while to get here. Why? Because this piece is about someone whose faith and strength astounds me. I am in awe of her and I want my words to do her story and her words justice. 

I feel this story is hugely important and should be told with the grace and dignity in which it has been lived. I know, like myself, others will hear this story and find their own healing and inspiration in it. This story, simply can't help but touch others deeply and profoundly, and I only hope that my telling of it will honor all involved. 

Years ago, I had a little hair and nail salon in our little town. I was the nail tech and my days were spent doing two things I loved, doing nails and talking to people. While I loved all of my clients, there were a few that were special to my heart. One of those was an amazing woman named Tutti. Her name alone provoked a smile and her outlook on life and the vivaciousness of her spirit lived up to her name. 

My nail table was tucked out of the way in a little corner of the shop, with good reason. When my favorites came in, often we spent a great deal of time laughing. Tutti wasn't only one of my favorites because of her spirit and personality, she was also one of my favorites because she gave me free rein over her nails. She would say, "What do you think suits me this time?" She would walk out with everything from palm trees, to fish, to tropical birds on her nails and she always seemed to love whatever I did. 

Tutti's favorite subject to talk about during her nail appointments was her kids and most especially,  her beautiful little curly-haired daughter named Stephanie. She would always walk in, sit down and say, "Now ask me what they did this week." Then she would regale me with some hilarious story that Stephanie or the boys did. It was obvious those kids were her heart and I loved every story she told. 

Eventually, I sold my shop and moved on. Too many hours smelling perms and acetone took its toll on me and I got out of the business. In time I lost track of my customers, even my favorites. Years later, I was doing a cancer walk at the old high school track when I was told that Tutti had battled cancer and had lost her battle a few years earlier. It made me tremendously sad that I had lost track of her and had not known this. 

It was at this same walk, that Tutti's daughter Stephanie was pointed out to me. She too was there for the walk. She was at this time,  a grown young woman, and a striking beauty. I immediately walked up to her and introduced myself, telling her that I knew her mother and that I was so sorry for her loss. Stephanie had no idea who I was, but she was kind and gracious and so amazingly poised. I saw so much of Tutti in her. 

Skip ahead to just several years ago. My David was in grade school and he was going through a really rough time with a lot of sudden changes in his school life that were prompting a great deal of seizure activity. I was at a crossroads trying to decide whether continuing in school was even the right path for him or not. Then along came Stephanie. She was an RN that had previously worked at the cancer center, but had changed jobs and been hired by the school district after her son was born. With all the issues David had been having, the school realized that they were on the verge of losing him as a student, and that at the time, he needed someone more medically based than a para, so they put Stephanie with him. It was one of the wisest decisions they had made at the time. In a lot of ways, Stephanie turned David's world around and in her, he found compassion and stability at the school that I don't think he had felt in the presence of others. 

Stephanie literally was a game changer for David and through her care and kindness, she gave him the  dignity and respect, that others had neglected in showing him. Her nursing skills were a Godsend too as she was ever vigilant where his seizures were concerned, and if she ever became concerned with his health, she didn't hesitate to bring those concerns straight to me. It gave me a peace of mind with David and school that I hadn't had for a while. 

The impact that Stephanie's presence had on David was so amazing, but deep in my heart, I knew that working at the school was not to be Stephanies true path, so when I was told she was leaving the school district, I was not surprised. I was even less surprised when I found out that she was going back to work at the cancer center. This was where her heart truly was at. 

Like time always does, it moved on. I kept in touch with Stephanie as all of us in the 21st century do, through social media. I watched Stephanie and her husband Jeff have kids and raise them. They were a beautiful family and they were busy with sports and coaching little league, moving homes and jobs, and establishing a life full of love and adventures that they shared in their pictures and posts. It was a joy to watch and a bright spot in my day to see Stephanie's posts. 

True to her kind nature, she often also posted about her job, or more often, her patients posted about her and how she had helped them through chemo and on their cancer journey. There were also the sweetest posts from Jeff on her timeline as he celebrated her on birthdays and anniversary's and Stephanie showed the same love in return. It was as if, even as young as they were, they realized what they had in each other and they were grateful for every moment they shared together. 

On July 11, 2019, as I skimmed a post Stephanie had made, I stopped reading mid sentence and had to start reading the whole post again. What I read literally brought tears to my eyes. I am sure that I was not alone. 

Jeff had been having some "concerning symptoms" and after going to the ER, they learned that he had a mass in his brain. After a brain biopsy, they learned that he did in fact have a Glioblastoma, which for those of us who don't speak oncology, this was a very aggressive brain tumor. Being true to the nurse that she is, in the same post, Stephanie was already in fight mode and she and Jeff were getting a game plan in place in which they had every intention of giving this cancer a run for its money. I was sure that if anyone could do it, this family could. 

Say what you will about small towns, but ours is a pretty awesome place. The minute word was out about Jeff's battle, our town vowed to battle right along with him. Stephanie and Jeff had an amazing circle of family and friends which grew exponentially in the days, weeks, months, and years that followed. People were reaching out to help this family in any way they could. There were fundraisers, t-shirts, and prayer requests going out to all churches, all faiths, and all people. While I am sure at times that Stephanie and Jeff felt this battle was a solitary quest, the fact was, there was love and prayers coming at them from all directions, especially from those whom Stephanie had been there for during their own cancer journey's. 

In the weeks that followed, you couldn't go anywhere without seeing "Team Hoag" and "Hoag Strong" t-shirts, and social media was filled with posts of family, friends, and strangers sporting the t-shirts in support of  Jeff and his family. The love and kindness this couple had given out so freely to others, was now coming back to them a thousandfold. This family was not fighting alone. 

Even though I never had the pleasure of meeting Jeff, I prayed for him daily and for Stephanie and the kids, because I knew from my own family experience with cancer, that it affected the entire family. I had read a little about Glioblastoma and I knew that this family was in for a rough road ahead. 

Early on, someone had posted on FB, "God gives the toughest battles to his strongest soldiers." This proved to be such a true statement. Jeff and Stephanie knew the odds of survival from this type of cancer, and yet they decided regardless of the outcome, cancer would not win! They refused to allow this monster to damage or destroy their lives, even when things got really tough. 

Anyone who has gone through cancer or loved someone through cancer, knows there are good days and bad days and sometimes those bad days are really, really bad. There are doctors appointments and specialists that often require travel to see, and through it all, the disease can become the focal point of your life. Cancer just seems to take control, and yet through sheer willpower and determination, Jeff and Stephanie fought cancer like champs and somehow continued to live their lives even in the throes of battle. They took vacations, family photos, celebrated holidays, coached sports and shared life, made memories with their kids, and shared laughter and love with family and friends. 

Jeff lived fearlessly and touched lives with his faith and indomitable spirit. Never did you see a picture that he wasn't smiling in and never did you read a post that gratitude for the life he had and all that he had been given wasn't in every word. Rather than let cancer consume him and make him bitter, he used it as a gift to spur on faith in others and motivate both old and young with the knowledge that even a disease like cancer only has power over us, if we allow it power. He never once gave it power. 

Cancer, though it may only strike one in the family, is very much a family disease. Stephanie, being an oncology nurse, remained hopeful but realistic. Her posts gave a candid look into her world.  She was holding on for dear life to her husband, her family, and her future, and yet, being the faith-filled woman she is, she was also very aware that their hope might not be God's will. Because of this reality, she at times posted some of the most real and moving posts I have ever read, acknowledging both the emotional trials she was going through and yet the gratitude and faith that she never lost sight of. 

One such post was just months into the cancer diagnosis when she said, "This season is one of the toughest of all times. Sometimes it can feel lonely and heavy, but I know I have a wonderful tribe of women in my life that are always checking in and willing to help carry a few bricks. I've never been good at accepting help, but I'm so thankful for these women- they get me, and they show up even when I try to push them away." 

On Jan. 1, 2020, Stephanie wrote a beautiful post about her blessings. She refused to focus on anything but the good and gave a laundry list of blessings and gratitude. It touched me deeply and I am sure I was not alone. She was starting 2020 with gratitude, grace, and hope in the midst of what many, myself included, might have fallen apart over. 

In 2020, they added a fur baby to their family and continued fighting. Stephanie shared the occasional update on Jeff's health but more often than not, their posts were full of them living their lives, experiencing milestones, and enjoying the life they had as a family. 

Through the entire ordeal, Jeff and Stephanie lived their cancer truth out loud and their kids, even as young as they are, were aware of what was going on. I think one of the most poignant posts I ever saw, was in August 2020, from Stephanie who had shared a picture of their huge backyard, and their 7-year-old son mowing it with a push mower. Her post began, "The lines in our yard use to be straight. Jeff's a perfectionist at heart, and the straight lines he made in the yard reflected just that. 

Today, I cried over crooked lines. I cried because this 7 year old volunteered to mow the lawn for his dad. Our yard is no small task, but he mowed every single line and pushed up both sides of the house against those dreadful hills." 

I couldn't help but stare at the picture of that small figure in that big yard. That young man was learning some of lifes toughest lessons at such an early age. That is likely one moment in his life that he will never forget. 

In November of 2020, Stephanie shared fall family photos they had done. As I looked at those beautiful, amazing photos, I couldn't help the tears that snuck out and traveled down my face. There was something so beautiful about each of them. They were precious memories caught in a perfect moment. Something told me deep in my heart that these photos above all the other photos they had shared over time, would always hold a special place in all their hearts. 

Through the holidays, I had not seen many posts from Stephanie. I figured that like everyone else, it was a busy time. I truly hoped that no news might mean something positive. 

On February 19, 2021, a post from Stephanie caught my attention and made my heart sink. The news was not good. The tumor was continuing to grow and essentially they had run out of good choices. Jeff was on a new medication and they were just praying that it would stop the growth. Stephanies final words on the post were, "We knew this was going to be a bumpy road and at some point, we may find ourselves in unchartered waters. It's frightening, and I keep telling myself it's not supposed to be like this, but I know we're not done here, this battle's not over- we're not giving up Hope, and we'll continue to stand on His promise.... and that's my promise to them."

The faith she had. The faith she shared. The faith they had together. I was in awe. 

On April 5, 2021, I held back tears once again. Stephanie shared a picture of a smiling Jeff holding both his children when their youngest was born. You could just tell that next to being Stephanie's husband, being a dad was his favorite thing in life. His face was beaming. Stephanie's post stated, "I experienced one of the most heartbreaking moments as a parent yesterday. Individually, I had to tell my children that their daddy will be transitioning to heaven soon. Those heart-rendered faces are forever etched into my brain. They're fighters, and I pray that one day they find that special kind of perspective on life, that only comes from such heartache. Starting today, we're signing onto hospice. We've finished the course, we've kept the faith and as Jeff told Dr. Truong 'we won'.

She ended it by saying, "I'm heartbroken, but I'll continue to search out the blessings in these raindrops. It's going to be 'okay', even if it's not the okay we wanted...." 

Oh those last words! I cried like a baby.  

On April 27, 2021, Stephanie's post began, "Jeff took his final breaths last night. He crossed over to his heavenly body- no more cancer and no more pain. He WON." 

Even now as I read those words, the tears flow. Having lost my own husband, my own best friend, and the one I planned to grow old with twenty years prior, I knew the pain and sadness she was feeling and her words in the midst of all that pain, literally took my breath away. 

In the days and weeks that followed, there was an outpouring of love for Stephanie and the kids and so many beautiful memorials and memories of and for Jeff. His strength and his faith while fighting such an uncompromising and evil opponent touched so many lives and the lessons he taught about strength through adversity and never giving up, will stay with so many for the rest of their lives. In my mind though, the most important lesson he taught, was to his own children. He showed them that life isn't always easy or fair, and sometimes life doesn't go our way, but through it all, you can always find joy, peace and so many things to be grateful for, and in the end, he taught them to both live and die with grace and dignity in the acceptance of God's will. 

On June 14, 2021, nearly two months after Jeff died, Stephanie made this post. 

"I read something the other day that said ‘True Joy is found in the release’… read that again. It’s powerful and it’s real, and my heart needed to read it.

I returned to work a few weeks ago, and my heart needed that too. For me, a large part of my identity is in the release. It's giving back and helping others, but also on a more simple scale- it's holding the door for someone, providing a compliment to a stranger, taking a phone call in the middle of the night, or just providing a shoulder to someone in need. I'm not saying it's the same for everyone, but part of my Joy comes from sharing it with others.

Someone asked me the other day if I planned to share my journey with grief. I'm not sure my perspective will be helpful to anyone because I think we all carry it differently, but I'm willing to share and be vulnerable in the hope that maybe it will help someone.

So the truth is, I ended up on my kitchen floor Friday afternoon crying, because I simply came across a picture of Jeff from a year ago. It crumbled me. I let that wave hit me and hit me again, and you know what happened?.... I eventually got up.

Often times I find myself trying to validate my feelings, but I'm learning there is no right or wrong. When you're standing in the ocean you can't stop a wave. All you can do is ride it out and know that it won't last forever.

I realize that a part of me went with him and throughout this new journey comes finding that part of myself again. My goals and perspective have shifted slightly. The success and future of my family is now solely on my shoulders. I'll probably end up on my kitchen floor a few more times, but I promise you I will keep getting up and moving forward.

Maybe that's also part of the release though... going forward towards things that provide fulfillment, happiness, opportunity- but doing so unapologetically. God's going to lead our hearts down the path he's created for us... we're faithful, ready, and all in.

Whatever it is that's weighing you down, find a way to put it back into the world... and see what goodness might just come your way."

As I read this, it struck me so deeply. It was in that moment, that I just knew that this story had to be told for others outside our little town and outside Stephanie and Jeff's close-knit circle of loved ones and friends to read. I knew how deeply Jeff's story had affected me. It was a story of strength and determination with undoubting faith that in the end, he would win. He did. But moreover, this is also a love story. It is the story of a love so strong and a faith so deep that even when the ending wasn't what Stephanie had hoped for, she still found the grace to be grateful for the life she shared with Jeff and their kids.

Loss is never easy and when you lose the one you were supposed to grow old with, sometimes the pain is excruciating, but to see beyond the pain and to keep taking those next steps forward into unchartered territory takes a strength and faith that not everyone understands.

I am extremely grateful and honored that Stephanie allowed me to tell her story and to share her journey with you. It is my hope, that through Stephanie's words and the life she has lived and continues to live today, that she may give someone else the strength they need to keep the faith, to hold on to hope, and to fully understand, that even in our darkest hours......God always gives us light.