The sound of a father's cry

I know a wonderful man. He married his first love. His highschool sweetheart. His best friend. They said their vows, had three beautiful children and decided to live the rest of their lives together.

Little did he know that her time on earth would be cut short. "Till death do us part," they both said. And that's exactly what happened.

He never left her side. Through sickness (and in health), he was there beside her hospital bed, day and night, never believing that the end was near.

Now, almost eight year later, it's even harder than the day he said goodbye.

Please, tell me. How do you mend the broken heart of a man who wants nothing more than to be with his best friend again?

I pray that God heals his heart. I pray that God gives him strength and peace. I pray that God gives him health. And I pray that God sends him an Angel. Someone to love him and nurture him the way that she did. Someone he can spend the rest of his life with.

"I'm so scared of growing old & dying alone," cries the bravest man I know.

2012 Komen Baton Rouge Race for the Cure

It's that time of year again! The 2012 Komen Baton Rouge Race for the Cure is this Saturday on March 10th, and I am raising money to support Susan G. Komen and to remember the life of my mom who lost her life to breast cancer just six years ago.

Last year, because of the amazing love and generosity from my friends and family, we raised over $900! This year I want to raise $1,000 but I need your help! Please help me reach my goal by making a small donation, whether it be in memory of my mom or in honor of someone else who has touched your heart.

All donations are tax deductible and can be entered online at http://batonrouge.info-komen.org/goto/GingerFreeman or mailed to me at 5055 Nicholson Dr. #H-101, Baton Rouge, LA 70820.

Through research and treatments, Susan G. Komen has come a long way to improve the lives of those with breast cancer, but we can’t stop until we find a cure. Every 3 minutes, a woman dies of breast cancer. With our help, this can change.

I am incredibly lucky to be blessed with such wonderful people in my life, and I sincerely appreciate the love and support you’ve given to me and to this cause. Thank you so much for all that you do!

May 14, 1958 - September 14, 2005

Here are some pictures from last year's Race :)

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Ma!

Today my mom would have celebrated her 53rd birthday. There are many things that I've written the last few days that really don't explain how much I miss her, but I think this may explain why it's been hard to say goodbye.

My cousin Amanda just posted this picture of my mom's gravestone. It's my first time seeing it and it has brought me to tears. Unfortunately, my mom was buried in Texas because that's where we were staying after the storm when she passed away. Since she died, I haven't had the opportunity to visit her grave site. I think one reason I can't find closure is that she's so far from home. I never had the chance to visit her or talk to her or bring her flowers. I always wondered if anyone ever went to see her. One reason I get sad on holidays is because I can't be there to bring her flowers and tell her I love her. Seeing this picture made me so happy to know that others are thinking about her. When I finally got a car a couple years ago, my first mission was to plan a trip to go see her in Texas. But I've put it off so many times because it's a scary thing for me after this long of being away. I don't want to go with a random friend because I know I'll be a wreck. And I'm scared to go alone. All I know is I miss her, and when I'm sad I just wish that I could go talk to her and bring her gifts to let her know that I'm thinking about her. I know it may seem more symbolic than anything, but she feels so far away. And I just hope that somehow she knows that I love her and I hope Heaven is treating her well.

Happy Birthday, Mama! I hope you like your pink birthday flowers!

Flowers and photo credit go to my loving cousins:

Amanda Guernsey, Corinne Ispas & Heather Walker

Dear Peaches

I turned 22 last month. I think I wrote about my birthday parties when I was younger and how much time we'd spend planning them and how fun they were. I decided to have a 70's themed party this year, mostly because my favorite birthday was my 70s party in 5th grade. We did the whole disco thing and everyone dressed up. It really was a lot of fun. But I thought about her the entire time I planned it.

I miss her stories. I miss going to her for advice. She would have told me stories and fun facts from when she was in the 70's, and she would have taken me shopping and shown me what to wear and the kind of music they listened to. She loved telling me about the days when she was my age, and I loved listening. I remember her stories of her driving around with her friends talking on the CB radio, referring to herself by her handle, Peaches. I miss those simple moments with her, and what makes my heart ache is that those memories fade as I get older.

The next day I just kept thinking how great it would be if I could just hear her voice. If she'd call me on the phone to wish me a happy birthday and ask me how my party went and I'd tell her about everyone's costumes and I'd go home for a home-cooked meal and a homemade cake and she'd have flowers and something girly and pink for me and I'd get to hug her and hear her laugh and see her smile and everything would be normal again. But, this isn't reality. And five years later I still haven't come to terms with it.

Christmas Stockings

I know it's been a while since my last post. I was happy and then sad and then happy again for a while. Writing forces me to think of the good and the bad memories and reminds me of why I miss her, so I think I was afraid to let myself get sad again. Strangely enough, this whole process has helped me cope in so many ways, but it is still hard for me to sit down and let everything go.

The holidays were rough, just as they always are. I wanted to write about how much I missed her at the time, but it would have made me so emotional to do so and I was with all my family. I don't like losing my composure when I'm around them for some reason, so I always try to hide it. But the night of Christmas Eve forced me to let go.

After the family had left, my dad came down the stairs with three stockings, one for both my brothers and me. Since I can remember, our stockings were always full of the most random, but thoughtful, trinkets, toys, jewelry, makeup, tools (for the boys), socks, candy, you-name-it! But those were always put together by my mom, and we hadn't gotten them since my mom passed away. It is definitely something I had thought about and missed, but we're older now so I never expected to get them again or for my dad to worry about something so materialistic. When I saw my dad coming down the stairs with them I knew what he was up to, and I couldn't help break down in tears.

Each of our stockings had candy and toys and bouncy balls.. mostly silly stuff. What really got me was the pink plastic princess set. It had a crown, a ring, some clip-on earrings, a necklace. Of course, it was meant for a little girl.. but that's what I am to my dad and that's the kind of thing my mom would have gotten me when I was younger.

I know the thought of Christmas stockings seem so trivial. But it's one of those things we all didn't really appreciate until it was gone. Ever since our first Christmas without her, I've thought about whether I should be the one putting together the stockings for my dad and my brothers each year. But I never had the time or money to do so, and I've felt guilty about it each year. All the things that my mom did, I feel like maybe I should be playing that role now. But then where does it end, and how much can I do?

--

I've actually written a lot over the last few weeks, but I've been so scared of posting anything for fear of trivializing my mom's life or inflicting self-pity. I'm worried people will start thinking I'm that girl--the one who writes these things for attention. The honest truth is: I don't need attention. I need help, and that's why I'm writing. I'm not writing for sympathy or pity. My heart hurts. I've been doing everything I know to make myself feel closer to her, but the closer I get the more I miss her. I'm so confused, and I guess this is my way of looking for answers.

Over the next week I'll try to post the things that I've been putting off. It still makes me feel nervous and vulnerable, but it's an obstacle that I'm trying hard to overcome.

Ginger's Wish

I formed a team for the 2011 Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Baton Rouge on behalf of my mom. I can't believe it has taken me 5 years to finally do this, but I'm so glad it's finally happening. All I want is for my family and friends to come together and honor her for everything she was. She gave all that she had to fight breast cancer for as long as she did, and I just want to be as giving as she was. All the money raised will go to the Baton Rouge affiliate of Susan G. Komen in my mom's name.

If you would like to join my team and/or help raise money in her honor, please visit http://batonrouge.info-komen.org/site/TR/RacefortheCure/BTR_BatonRougeAffiliate?team_id=151684&pg=team&fr_id=2003

The team name is Ginger's Wish and the race is February 19, 2011 at LSU's Old Front Nine. There is a 5k for anyone who can go the distance, and a one-mile fun run for those of you who would like to take it slow. I would like to get tents to set up on the day of the race with all of my mom's favorite food and music. I want it to be a fun day of remembrance, so please consider joining me and my family. We could use all the support we can get!

I finally feel like I'm doing the right thing :)

just wishing

I'm up late trying to study and she's all I can think about. It's probably the holidays. They always make me miss her. I wish I could hug her. I miss that so much. I also wish I could focus and stop crying. I'm so frustrated.

Forgotten Memories

I was in the library doing research for a paper when I thought of her today. Growing up, she and I would visit the library by my house and rent movies since they were free, mostly during the summer and on the weekends. Usually we would spend an hour or two, I would search for books and then I'd go see what movies she found. (Actually, I can vividly remember being on the second floor where the movies were, picking out Robin Hood: Men in Tights on VHS and going home to watch it with her.) Then we'd go visit the little gift shop before leaving. I remember her buying me an angel pin from there.

This is something I haven't thought about in years. I miss spending time with her. Why did it have to end?

Chantelle, my belle :)

Yesterday my boyfriend and I celebrated our two year anniversary. He's part of a band, and last night at their show he surprised me by singing a version of "Michelle, my belle" by the Beatles, except he replaced it with my name. What makes it even better is my mom used to always sing that to me. I'm not sure if he knew this, but either way I thought it was a sweet coincidence. I think they would have really liked each other :)

Lend me your ears!

I'm laying in bed watching Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Mama and I used to watch this movie all the time. It's only halfway through and I'm already crying. I miss her so much...

Mama, I think I have cancer!

I was about 10 years old when I found out what caused my mom's hair to fall out. I was taking a bath one night when (for whatever reason) I noticed some of my hair coming out. I began hysterically crying, dried off as fast as I could and went to my mom telling her I had cancer. I'll never forget how she just laughed and took me into her arms. She told me how chemo works (in kid terms, of course) and reassured me that I was fine and didn't have cancer. She said I was probably losing a little hair due to stress.

About a year later in science class, a boy made a joke about cancer and referenced a person who was balding. The whole class laughed except me. In fact, whatever it was that he said really upset me. I yelled at him explaining how cancer really worked. But he didn't seem to care. No one did. We were all so young, so you can't expect anyone to really understand the importance and pain behind it. I think that's the moment I realized I had grown up a little too soon.

My 16th Birthday

My mom had always thrown me the biggest and best birthday parties. We would spend months planning a theme, buying decorations, deciding what food to make and who to invite. Unfortunately, my 16th birthday wasn't so sweet.

My mom had been going through some chemotherapy in the months before, but unfortunately those treatments weren't doing the job. Over Christmas holidays, the doctors prepared my mom for a stronger regiment of chemo that they would start in January. A week before my birthday party, she had her first new treatment. Little did we know, this would change everything.

We decided to plan a smaller birthday party that year. My mom was very upset that she couldn't throw me a Sweet 16, but that was the last thing I was worried about. She had been sick and we definitely didn't have the money for anything big. All I wanted was to have a few friends over for cake & ice cream, so that's what we did.

I think we did a spaghetti dinner that night. I remember my mom was so worried about her hair falling out, so she wore a hair net while she cooked. She would be so embarrassed if someone found hair in their food, but I tried reassuring her that my friends understood and it would be okay if it happened.

My birthday party turned out to be a success, and that night my best friend (who incidentally lost her mother to breast cancer 4 years before) slept over. Unfortunately, the next morning we woke up to find my mom crying in her bathroom. In a matter of minutes, she had lost all of her hair. I had seen her lose her hair before, but it never happened this fast. It was always a more gradual process. She was pulling out handfuls at a time, and soon enough she was completely bald. We both cried as she just stared at herself in the mirror. That was the day I knew. I knew this time would be different. I knew this time would be bad. I had never been so scared.

And then. She told me she was sorry. -- Sorry for what? For being amazing? For throwing me a birthday party? For baking me a delicious cake? For cooking a delicious meal for all my friends? For buying me presents with money that you worked so hard for? For being the bravest woman I know?

And this is where I lose it.

No matter what she was going through or how bad she was suffering, she always apologized to me. She didn't want me to know that she was scared or hurting. She wanted me to think that everything was fine and that she would be okay. But I knew the truth. I knew that she was trying her best to stay alive. Her perseverance always shined through. But I knew she would be really sick this time around.

That night I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. I prayed out to God and asked that if he was going to make her suffer like this, then to please make it short. I couldn't bare to watch her endure so much pain. She didn't deserve it. No one does. That was the first time I seriously considered giving her up to Heaven.

Shortly after that she began losing all of her finger nails. I remember she stubbed her toe at the grocery one day, and immediately afterward the nail turned purple and eventually fell off. How is a woman supposed to feel with no hair or nails? I know it made her feel ugly. I know it made her feel unwomanly. I know it made her depressed. But I still thought she was beautiful. She always was.

She felt isolated. I could tell she was scared, but she tried not to show it. She was always strong. I would hear her crying all alone in her bedroom at night when she thought I couldn't hear. She didn't want to scare me. She wanted me to know that she was doing everything she could to stay on this earth, and I knew that she was.

People tell me that God works in mysterious ways.

I don't get it...

Mama,

You were so beautiful and compassionate and giving. I don't know why God made you so sick, but I know that you're not suffering anymore and that's all that matters. I'll never forget how much you sacrificed for me and the rest of the family. I love you so much and I hope I get to see you again one day.

 

happy thoughts :)

Things I’ll always remember:

• driving around in the car listening to the Jackson 5
• getting Rally’s after church on Sundays and going to Lafreniere Park
• decorating the house for Christmas
• carpooling to cheerleading practice and singing to Shania Twain
• how fast she walked through Wal-Mart. I could never keep up!
• visiting my family in Texas with her
• the way she screamed my middle name when I was in trouble. Those who knew her know what I’m talking about :) “ELIZABETH!!!”
• her perfume/the way she smelled
• baking cupcakes and bringing them to all our friends and family for Christmas
• listening to oldies in the car
• her beautiful gardens
• re-decorating the dining room
• her flower arrangements
• going to Chili’s all the time, because that was our favorite place to eat
• her broccoli & rice casserole
• her love of great music
• her love for the Saints
• her love for God
• her passion for giving
• shopping at Claires in the 10 for $10 clearance section for birthday gifts and saving them in a big box in her closet to give away later
• playing online word games and doing crossword puzzles (she was so good at them!)
• watching The Parent Trap & My Big Fat Greek Wedding (her favorite movies)
• planning all my birthday parties (which were always so much fun!)
• having the family over on Christmas Day
• going to cell church/having cell church at our house
• picking up “Pam & the kids” for church because they didn’t have a car
• going to get snoballs
• going to Sonic to get chocolate cream pie shakes
• her stuffed bellpeppers
• her telling me she loves me ALL the time
• how fast she was able to get things done (I don’t know where I learned to be late all the time!)
• her love for sweets and chocolate
• the way she loved our toy poodles (Pebbles & Patience… they were her babies)
• going to Ground Patti Jr.
• getting pretzels from Auntie Anne’s (our favorite place in the mall)
• her pretty, dark brown hair
• the way she laughed
• her creativeness
• the way she adored children
• her love for diet coke
• her homemade chocolate milkshakes
• when she would call me “peanut butter cup” :)
• the way she referred to me as her little sweetheart
• her Metairie accent
• going shopping
• her love for clearance racks and sales :)

the last supper

My mom had been very sick in the months leading up to her death. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t move, and she certainly couldn’t get out of bed. It was the sickest she had ever been.  But one day her endless strength would change that.

My dad picked me up from work one night, shortly before Hurricane Katrina hit. I got in the truck, and with a big smile on his face he told me my mom was at home making dinner. I was in shock! Was she really out of bed? Was she really moving around? Was she getting better? Is the cancer gone? Is this a miracle?

If you know anything about my mom, you know what an incredible cook she was. From homemade spaghetti and meatballs to the best chicken gumbo in the world, she could make it all. It had been months since she was able to cook, let alone get out of bed, so this was a very big deal to us.

That night we had sloppy joe burgers for dinner. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but they were the best sloppy joes I’ve ever had. It was such a huge accomplishment for my mom, and my dad and I had never been so proud of her! That was the last meal she would ever cook, and I’ll never forget it.

September 14, 2005

On September 14, 2005, heaven received the most beautiful angel. My mom passed away two weeks following Hurricane Katrina after battling breast cancer for 15 years. Writing about this is very hard for me, but it’s sort of my last resort to find strength and courage in the struggle without her.

I try thinking of happy memories and telling myself things like “at least she’s not suffering anymore” and “she’s here in spirit.” But the truth is, she wasn’t there when I graduated high school or when I got my first car. She wasn’t there to meet my first real boyfriend or when I moved into my first apartment. She won’t be there when I graduate college or when I get my first real job. And most importantly, she won’t be there when I walk down the aisle or when I have my first child.

Those are all supposed to be happy occasions, and yet I find myself in tears every time I think about how I’m going to have to live each moment for the rest of my life without her. I thought it would get easier with each year that went by, but even five years later I’m finding it gets harder with each day.

I am so lucky to have spent 16 amazing years with my mom, but it’s a harsh reality to accept that she’s not here anymore and she’s not coming back. The fact is it’s affecting me and everything I do more than it ever has. There isn’t a day that I don’t think about her, but even the happy memories make me sad. I don’t know what to do or who to turn to anymore, but these are my thoughts…

In the years following my mom’s death, I have discovered better hospitals and so many programs with the sole purpose of helping patients and families whether it be physically or financially. It kills me knowing now that my mom could have gotten better treatment at other places. But with little awareness of it and no money to spend we stayed at our local general hospital where she received very poor treatment. There are so many men and women battling breast cancer today, and so many people out there wanting to help. She didn’t have to do it alone and she certainly didn’t have to die, and neither should anyone else.

Essentially, I want to help those who are battling cancer or lost someone they love, and those who wish to relive some of my mom’s great memories with me. Maybe along the way I can meet someone going through the same thing, and we can help mend each other’s hearts. My mom always did everything she could to help others no matter how sick she was, and I want that to live on.

Today is the last day of breast cancer awareness month, but for me it’s a life-long struggle. On September 14, 2005, I lost my best friend. Until I find that happy place again, I’m just taking it one day at a time.