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  • A New Year

    So I just read on Facebook that the Captain of the Selina II lost her father on New Years Day. The question that comes to my mind is “What makes me lucky enough to wipe the slate clean and step into 2012 wrapped in a blanket of boundless hope, while my fellow friend must start it by saying goodbye forever?”. When did the human race draw a line in the sand between December and January?

    I don’t know that I have made any conscious resolutions but they seem to be existing quite by accident. I have been cleaning the kitchen everyday and finding myself wanting to always keep it clean. I spent my first day off in the new year lounging around all day eating pretzel M&Ms, watching Battlestar Galatica, and practically doing – well – nothing important. I thought to myself that an occasional gluttonous lazy day would be a good thing to schedule again. When I picked up dog food at Walmart tonight, I read the clerk’s name tag and thanked Cindy for taking care of me. This was something Keith always did and the closet introvert that I am excite in my ability to do it. So did I intentionally make resolutions? If you don’t consider consciously deciding to keep the kitchen clean, scheduling indulgent “me” days, and calling all the people who serve me by their names, sure – but they are starting to feel like resolutions to me even though I never spoke them out loud or wrote them down.

    So maybe we draw that line in the sand because we believe that it can always get better. We draw it to give ourselves permission to forgive our past, to escape the hurt, and find a way to shed the bad so we can carry the best parts of ourselves forward. Or maybe it’s just as simple as the thrill of seeing Cindy smile after hearing her name.

    I hope you all move forward, even without our Keith.

    Love,
    Cherish

  • Happy Anniversary Keith

    Dear Keith:

    I guess I really need to start by telling you that it was standing room only at the Synagogue. The Rabbi truly embraced what it was about you that lead me to hold the service there. Brandon, myself, and Billy “Lou” Palmer all spoke. The Easton High Alumni sent you off with one last “Get Some Air Under It”. Afterwards, our house was packed! It was such a glorious tribute to you – everything I wanted for you and more. So many people there to celebrate your life that I could hardly talk with them all.

    To celebrate our anniversary, I dressed up in what I worn when we got married. It’s a little looser on me than on our wedding day. I don’t have you around to feed me and I already miss breakfast in bed. HEY – speaking of – you left before paying up on a Chicken Alfredo dinner for Jay, Katie, and Ginny. I think I can come close to it though and will make dinner plans with them in honor of you.

    Mom and Dad came over this afternoon just in time for your ashes to arrive, via restricted USPS delivery. Our mail lady didn’t even know you were sick. Then again, everything happened so fast there were so many people that had no idea. She told me it was an honor and a privilege to carry you in the back of her truck back to your home. The post office stamped cancellation stamps all over the box and now I can’t bear to unwrap the package.

    Your in-laws and our sons went to Mason’s to celebrate our anniversary with me. Three of us ordered steak frites and I shared with them our time honored tradition of you insisting that I order green beans while you order fries, so you could share my beans and I could share your fries. I always said that I wanted all my green beans and none of your fries, and you would always press a fork full of fries towards me saying “try these”. I always buckled and shared my beans. Not only was Mason’s the restaurant we always ate at on our anniversary, it was also where we went for lunch the very first time we met. You picked me up from work in your Cobra, which totally impressed my co-worker. Meanwhile, I had no clue at all that it was such a special breed of Mustang. I definitely learned quickly about how magical that car was. I know what a sacrifice it was for you to trade it in on my little Mazda.

    Last night I caught The Damnwells at a little cafe called the IOTA out in Arlington, VA. My new Rick Springfield friend, Marcia, joined me as well as Agent Jay. Our waitress was a beautiful blonde Ukrainian woman so Agent Jay was in flirt mode. It was fun to watch. You would have loved the food. I had a chance to approach Alex Dezen after the show to tell him that I lost my husband and that The Damnwells’ music has kept me going through all of it. I know, I know – this is like that Jack Wagner autograph that left you asking me why I bothered since you didn’t know the artist. They may not be Led Zeppelin, but they both wished us well. Every wish counts.

    I am about to head out for a New Years Eve with Kitson’s family and with Danny and Lauree – my first one without you. The only thing that will make midnight a little easier is knowing that were you still with me, you would have fallen asleep long before then. So strange that I find myself counting “firsts”. Just a few weeks ago, I was counting our lasts – the last time you were home in bed next to me, the last time we had a dinner date, the last time you spoke to me, the last time we told each other “I love you”, the last time I heard you breath, felt the warmth of your skin, saw your face. Now we pass through our first Christmas without you, our first anniversary, our first New Year. These are the big ones. Its the small ones that get me. Like the first time I left the house to go to a Christmas party – which started with my usual 10 minute cry as I drove up route 50. Even when you were alive, I always felt that tug on me whenever I traveled from home. The tears would start and this need to turn the car around and go back home to you would overwhelm me – to be with you, near you, hold you, touch you, talk with you, to never let you out of my sight. I know neither of us were ready for you to go. I love you and I must send you off – and the Damnwells say it better than I ever could –

    “just follow the stars and speeding red cars into the great unknown”

    Love
    Cherish

  • Merry Christmas Darling, Happy New Year too.

    Hi Honey:

    I have so much to tell you since you left us just 10 days ago.  We all have our good moments and bad.  In some ways, I was probably the most prepared for you leaving.  I know both of us were in it to fight but also prepared for the worst.  Brandon and I decorated your box on Tuesday before your cremation.  Tigger went with you, as well as the Raven’s jersey you gave your son, and that crazy tee shirt I bought you on my return trip from Florida.  Jimi Hendrix and Led Zepplin went with you as well.  I covered you in the blanket from our bed and you got to smoke your Cuban cigar.  The funeral directors never saw anyone cover a cremation box quite like we did.  As we drove behind the hearse we played Led Zepplin for your and argued over Brandon’s driving so he could remember what a bad passenger you were.

    Your little niece Elise took your leaving hard.  She wouldn’t leave my side during the cremation, wrapping and unwrapping my scarf, buttoning and unbuttoning my jacket.  She also had to inspect Pop Pop to make sure he really wasn’t yellow any more.  She wanted to understand why we were burning you up and I tried to explain that it was so you could travel with me to all the places we wanted to go.  She also wanted to know when I was going to get married again.  Ah, to be young and see the world in such simple light.  Love, lose, love again – so simple.

    Alex helped me empty the living room.  Everything that belonged to your mother has found a home here in the house, except for a few clothes, bed sheets, and odd kitchen gadgets which we donated to Good Will.  I know that is what you would have wanted.  We even managed to do it without filling up the attic.  Oma came Wednesday and Thursday.  She got rolling on cleaning and went with me to pick up your death certificates.  I had a chance to meet John, your old friend at the funeral home, and he helped me figure out what to put your ashes in – an ammo can.  Everyone I have spoken to thinks it is perfect and Brandon found one of yours in the shed. On Thursday, I took Oma and Agent Jay to Salisbury. She had an eye appointment and he wanted to go to an authorized Verizon dealership to upgrade his 4G chip.  We found a kettle corn vendor across the street from the eye doctor so Jay bought a few bags.  It was the first time he had ever tried it and I was telling him that it was one of your favorites.

    Katie came over to help me finish your get-well album and made the guest book pages for your memorial album.  She’s starting to show and she’s so beautiful right now.  I know how happy you were for her and Jay (this is Katie’s Jay, not to be confused with Agent Jay from the paragraph above).  While she was working on the albums, one of my photography ad agencies called me to talk me into extending my banner ad.  I told Josh you had died and I wasn’t in the mood to focus on the photography business at the moment.  You must still be looking out for me, because I got an email from them informing me that they have extended my banner ad at no additional cost to April 15.  Go Keith!

    Ginny treated me to dinner and I hung out with the Frase Kilmon gang as they wrapped up their stocking shopping at Target.  We grabbed a Starbucks on the way out and the barrista left Jay’s caramel drizzle off his drink.  I channeled my best spirit of Keith, and got her to provide the appropriate drizzle.  Once we were in the car, I couldn’t resist saying “you know, my husband just died and I’m in a better mood than she is”.

    Yesterday, I returned to my first Klinglesmith Christmas in 5 years.  Conversations about Hannah’s trebuchet circulated on facebook that morning. It made me think of the potato cannon you built all those years ago that I loaded into my little purple car with Zach and Brandon and went out to Ed and Chrissie’s house to shoot it off.  Remember all those past Christmas Eves where you could not wait till Zach would show up from his Klinglesmith party so we could open everything the minute he walked through the door?  You were always the biggest kid in our bunch.  As Zach and I were driving back, the image of finding you waiting up for us, half asleep on the couch came into my head.  It was a long drive home.

    We all miss you.  You should see the Facebook comments on your memorial event.  All the soccer girls quoting “GET SOME AIR UNDER IT” make me smile.  There will be so many people there.  Your family, my family, your friends, my friends, and our friends.  You would be amazed at how many people you’ve touched.  We continue to take baby steps through our grief.  This is our first Christmas without you.  Next, I will work through our first anniversary without you.  We will get there.  Don’t you worry about us.

    Love
    Cherish

     

     

  • Sweet Surrender

    9 years ago, this was the song I listened to over and over again. I was falling in love with a man whom I didn’t think would ever love me back and the lyrics echoed my feelings. Last night, this came on my IPod. I am amazed at how the same lyrics mean something completely different and yet still echo my feelings for that man. I love you Keith.

    Sweet Surrender by Sarah McLachlan

  • A Widow Reflects his

    Wow – a widow in my 40’s.  Somehow, my new title isn’t sinking in.  It feels even stranger when I wandered around tonight shopping for a black dress.  I wanted to find one that would have made him nod his head at me and give his stock “nice” comment.  As I walked around the store, I’m hearing Christmas music playing through their speakers.  I saw Keith’s infectious disease specialist comparing dishes with a couple of people.  I’m sure they were contemplating them as a present.  As I checked out, the clerk commented on what a nice dress it was.  Right on the tip of my tongue were the words “I’m wearing it to my husband’s service” but I fought it off.  The holidays are rolling along all around me and I know its happening but am disconnected from it all.

    Friends and family are visiting with cookies and condolences.  Dear brother Lance – I do like cookies.  Last night I cleaned the sick out of our house.  I needed to shake off its presence.  I want our home to be like it was before he fell ill so I wouldn’t have to look around and remember his struggle these last few months.  I want to remember my healthy Keith, my Tigger.  Grief is actually a strange sort of insanity.  I have washed his cloths and put them away.  I found a scrap of paper he scribbled on and I can’t part with it.  His glasses came back from the hospital so I put them on his headboard where he always keeps them.  I still reach over to his half of the headboard to get the TV remote.

    One thing I do know – I love him enough to accept this suffering, to fight through this to the other side so I can carry part of his spirit with me into my future.  A future lived to the fullest because his voice will be in my head saying “Go, Cherish. Do it!  I know it will make you happy. You deserve it.  And if anyone gives you grief, they’ll have me to deal with.”

    OK, enough for one night.

    Love
    Cherish

     

  • More Information

    The address for Temple B’nai Israel where the memorial will take place on December 29, 2011 at 3:00 is:

    101 West Earle Avenue
    Easton, MD 21601

    Tonight, I’m taking a break from blogging. Everyone rest assure that I have had lots of visitors and phone calls keeping me going.

    Love
    Cherish

  • The Next Steps

    Keith’s memorial service will be on Thursday, December 29, 2011 at 3:00.  I will provide the name and address of the location as soon as I get it from Rabbi Hyman.

    I am meeting with the funeral home tomorrow to prepare to have him cremated.

    In leu of flowers, donations to The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (or LLS) are greatly appreciated.  Please mail checks to:

    Earthtec Solutions
    c/o Barbara Carrita
    2079-B East Wheat Road
    Vineland, NJ 08361-2594

    Or for credit card donations, please use this link:  http://pages.teamintraining.org/nj/sleephol12/gobarbgo  Barbara personally raises funds for the organization through Team in Training and was a very import resource for me.  She ran the Nike 1/2 Marathon in San Francisco this last October in honor of Keith.   I intend to do the same come this next October – well walk, maybe run a little.  So don’t be surprised if I ask for your support next fall.

    Thank you all for the messages.  Although I am not emotionally able to focus on them too closely, my phone does sing with Facebook chimes and text alerts.  It makes me smile even if the poor battery on the phone is almost done.  Keith would have been amazed at the love and support.  I know I am.  The nights have already been the hardest to get through and last night was painful.  I’m trying to calm myself for tonight.  I know I can do it.  I also know it won’t be easy.

    Hold your spouses, your children, your family, your friends close to you, always let them know you love them – for Keith.

    Love
    Cherish

  • When it is dark enough, you can see the stars

    My beautiful love, be free and suffer no more. I love you.

    Keith Alan Nielsen
    1/12/57 – 12/15/11, 9:43 PM

  • There is No Time to Be Fearful

    Dad will have his surgery tomorrow first thing in the morning.  Think happy thoughts everyone!!!

    Keith – no forward progress.  He is still non responsive and his blood pressure is still low.  His primary caregiver, Dr. Foy, paid a visit as well as his admitting doctor (who by the was my Dad’s admitting doctor).  Both doctors started to review the charts, discuss his status, and pretty soon, Dr. Foy was on the phone with Dr. Smith and relaying information to me.  Our conversation consisted of Dr. Smith debating transferring Keith to a tertiary hospital like UMMS or Johns Hopkins.  There are pros and cons to this which I am actively discussing with Keith’s medical team, as well as his social worker and a friend of his who is an Oncologist with 20 years of experience with blood cancers.

    I have reached a point of total clarity.  It came as I snuggled up to him in bed after visiting hours, which isn’t easy with all those tubes.  It was just me and him and we talked – ok, I talked – and he didn’t interrupt me – not even once.  Asshole (Still the world’s most lovable asshole, mind you).  We (I) discussed what Dr. Foy told me.  We (I) reminisced about our first date.  We (I) went over all the medical advice and possibilities and whether it was worth the risk and then finally I told him I had to go home and get work done.  After untangling myself from the sheets and tubes and pillows, I found myself strolling down the hall, with my fingertips gliding along the rails on the walls thinking that as long as I stayed connected to them, I could send a signal down the wire to Keith.  At 10:00 at night, the hospital is a very still quiet dark place.  You have to leave through the emergency exit and the security officer greeted me as I walked up to the doors.  He called me back in and handed me a few tissues and asked if I was ok.  I hadn’t realized I was crying.

    Here is the clarity in the form of an email I just sent to a couple of Oncologists for advice:

    Good Evening Gentlemen:

    I’m Keith Nielsen’s wife and I know both of you are aware of his lymphoma.  In true Keith fashion he has the doctors scratching their heads and the clock is ticking.  It is my understanding this is an unusual case.  I’ve attached the report I provided the hospital the night I checked him in and an MRI report I received two days ago.  Please keep in mind that his current condition is very different than what shows in the report from Dr. Smith’s office.  His doctors are Dr. William Gai and Dr. David H. Smith.   They are at Bay Hematology Oncology P. A.  By copy of this email to them, I am letting them know that I am reaching out to you for more eyes on the case.

    This is the situation as I see it as Keith’s wife:
    Keith wants to fight this cancer and has been fighting it full throttle from the start.
    If Keith’s health declines, he does not want anything to do with quantity of life versus quality – no resuscitation or intubation.

    Those are the instructions my husband has given me.   I also know that despite his stubbornness, he would allow me a little flexibility between the two.

    What can we do?  Trust me, I’m realistic.  I’m also planning a funeral as well.

    Thanks
    Cherish

     

  • The Great Unknown

    My Dad will probably have surgery Thursday after a few additional tests. My Mom is flying in from Florida tomorrow to be with the family and my brother will pick her up from the airport. We are confident that Dad is facing a blocked duct around the liver and expect all to go well. I think that Daddy’s little girl wished him into the hospital so she could sneak into his room and snuggle up to him like she did when she really was daddy’s little girl. For that I apologize to Mom because she doesn’t need any of this either.

    Keith – the great unknown. He has a fever again. The hospital doctor has advised us to considering the tough question of continuing with treatment or making him comfortable. His oncologist, Dr. Smith, advises that this a result of infection because of a compromised immune system. “Hang in there a few days and lets see if we can get his fever to break and hold it off for a while” is what he is offering us. We could still find the window to do chemotherapy. The doctor who is our infection specialist spoke with Keith’s cousin Henry and I – she opined that because she is treating the symptoms of an infection without success, she can only conclude that the cancer has triggered his demise.

    Keith’s cousin Henry is here. His daughter Christie drove down from NY this morning with her beautiful new dog, who is fast becoming a comfort to us here at the house, although Rudy is very jealous. His niece Melissa will be traveling into town tomorrow. Zach will see if he can come after work on Saturday. We are all going to either annoy Keith to health or hold each other up as we face Keith’s great unknown.

    Keith’s MRI – Attached here is Keith’s MRI report from this morning. This one document has lead to our three doctors giving me three interpretations. All of their reading are valid from their respective knowledge base. Anyone reading this – if you know someone in the medical field that deals with compromised immune systems or lymphoma, please share this with them and I can forward more if they have any ideas but want a bigger picture. I’m looking for fresh eyes or maybe I’m grasping at straws or maybe this is my cry to the forces of life. It is all I have left.

    Rabbi Paul came to visit Keith. He prayed with us and shortly afterwards Keith opened his eyes and focused on Henry, Ginny, and I. He’s in there and I know he’s still trying to fight and I know he hurts and I know I am selfishly begging him to stop this nonsense. I tried to taunt him like I always do – pick a fight – call him names – Christie warned me that when Keith gets better, I might get kicked to the curb for messing with him. Fine! If that’s what it takes then kick me to the curb.

    I left the ER around 3:00 this morning and I can feel how bone tired I really am, and yet I can’t shut off. I have a sneaky idea that Henry doesn’t shut off easily either. I can hear him playing guitar in the room next to me. It’s nice and reminds me of when Zach would pluck out tunes in his room while I would ease drop on him. My brother Lance was visiting Dad when I stopped in for a lunch time visit. Here’s something that only Lance, Mom, and Dad really know about me – I have always hated this time of year – and that feeling of spite for this crazy time of year we call the “holidays” raised its ugly head as I sat in the room between the two of them. There I am, turning to Lance saying “Did I mention I hate Christmas”. My poor baby brother just looked at me with that deadpan face, wearing a Grinch tie, and said “What! you don’t like cookies?” He always knows how to throw out that one-liner to get me to smile and the bonus is, as much as I love him, I didn’t land him in the hospital. Christie is my witness that he walked out unaided and healthy.

    Love

    Cherish