Bitter & Sweet; A Family’s Journey With Cancer

Chapter Sixteen: Rituals

Thursday, October 14, 2010 11:27 PM

Funeral Home Visiting Hours: Saturday, 2:00-4:00 and 7:00-9:00

Funeral Service at our church: Sunday 2:00 PM.

Sorry for such briefness; I will do better when I can somehow breathe again… End entry

Not only did Tim choose his cemetery plot and design his headstone, he also selected his funeral home. He picked out the casket, lining, and everything else that goes with it. I thought at one point he had written his obituary.

Unfortunately, when the time came, the funeral home was booked like mad. We would have had to wait several days to use the funeral home we had chosen. That wouldn’t have been so bad in and of itself, but if we did that, Emily and her family could not have attended.

So I found myself having to do things quickly and somewhat in a panic. We went to our second choice for funeral homes and luckily they were available. However, the first person had never typed up all of our preferences so I had to try and select everything all over again.

I found myself being ridiculously crabby about this. I did not want to spend my time and energy doing this, especially just five hours after Tim taking his last breath.

And I could not find his obituary for the life of me so I had to rewrite it. It was ok, but I did not think to mention his employment which was really disappointing considering how much Tim loved his job. It was the funeral home’s job to ask the right questions, but they had fallen short on many key points.

In the big scheme of things, none of it matters I guess. Probably felt better to direct my anger and upset somewhere else besides dealing with the fact that I had lost my partner.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from my supervisor

I’m so sorry Darcy. I hope as you grieve the loss of him and his love for you that you can also celebrate his life… 

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from my friend

My dear Darcy, He is at peace and in a warm, loving, and better place. My heart is crying with you, but also glad Tim suffers no more. You’ve been through so much, and more lies ahead. Hold fast to those who love you and surround you. Faith, family, and friends will guide you through.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from my high school friend

My heart aches for you, my dear friend. How blessed you are to have had each other and Frankie. Tim leaves behind a truly wonderful legacy in his family. Still praying for all of you. I love you, Darc.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from Frankie’s friend’s family

Darcy, I am so saddened by Tim’s passing. I know that he has finally made his journey home to God and is now in a place where he will be reunited with all the people he has lost throughout his life and will no longer be plagued with any sickness. Tim wanted so badly to stay with you and the children for many years.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from Tim’s colleague

So sorry to hear of Tim’s passing today. He was a terrific person and will be greatly missed. It’s so unfortunate that someone who so loves life, family, friends, work, sports, etc. goes at such a young age. I will take comfort in knowing that I will see him and laugh with him again someday. My heart goes out to Tim’s family in this time of sadness.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from my high school friend

Dearest Darcy and family, My heart goes out to all of you at this most difficult time. Tim and you are truly loved. Even though taken far too young, he obviously has lived a full life of happiness and knew what matters most in life. Please know that we are holding you close in our hearts and prayers. May this and the support of all others in your life provide you some comfort.

Thursday, October 14, 2010 Guestbook entry from Tim’s cousin

Tim is my beloved cousin whom I will miss dearly. I love you, Tim. I will see you when God calls me home. My faith and love of our heavenly God promised that your pain, fear, and suffering have all gone away. This is the joy and hope I cling to for you as I did for my mom.

Darcy, I love you and my prayers continue for you and your little one. Children know little of pain and suffering when they are young and well-loved. You are a wonderful mom. Please remember that it is now that God is carrying you and cradling you in His arms. You are the apple of God’s eye.

To all Tim’s children, I love you and you would be my second cousins and we may not know each other very well. I loved your dad dearly and he talked of how proud he was of all of you.

Friday, October 15, 2010 7:26 AM

I just wanted to let you know a little bit about Tim’s last day… He was pretty quiet throughout the day. His small arm or leg gestures seemed to stop. (He would sometimes pull off his sheet or want the “brief” off that he was wearing.)

He would sometimes moan, although they still were confident this was not due to pain. His breathing was steady. He did however let out these very long, loud sighs. (They would totally startle me if I was lying next to him.) Our minister was there and later told me he was reminded of the verses in Romans where it talks about the Spirit groaning on our behalf.

About 12:30 PM (I really have little concept of time) we decided to freshen him up. He was breathing rhythmically but seemed to be moaning. I always check with a nurse or doctor to make sure he doesn’t need something for a better restful state. They gave him some sleep medicine and sent the doctor in.

She reassured us she had checked his lungs and they were perfectly clear. She said the sounds were carbon dioxide release and nothing to be concerned about.

After she left the room most people dispersed to get lunch. I leaned over into Tim’s ear and told him “Holy cow Tim, that doctor was a hottie. You would have liked her!” (She was very beautiful.)

Probably not five minutes later I was in the room with just a couple of people (not even sure exactly who they all were) and I noticed Tim’s eyes were open. I looked and said, “I don’t think he’s breathing.” (After you have a microscopic eye on someone for five months you notice every little thing.)

Those in the room said of course he was breathing. Tim’s cousin said to put my hand on his heart and feel it beating. I told her I didn’t feel anything. I ran down the hall to the nurses’ station. On the way, I yelled into the waiting room that I thought Tim was gone, everyone jumped up in shock.

The nurse came right down and confirmed with surprise that he indeed was gone. My legs buckled underneath me. When you’ve been on a journey like this, it seems ridiculous to say we were all shocked. But we were!

He didn’t do anything by the book — he never did and especially not during this illness. They called him the surprise guy and he remained that way right to the end. End entry

I was standing at the side of the bed. There were several people waiting in silence, all with shocked looks on their faces. Dad was next to me. We were all holding our breath as the nurse attempted to find a heartbeat. She looked up at me and shook her head. My legs truly did buckle and I grasped for my father to hold me up.

I can’t even explain what went through my head in a matter of seconds. The biggest thing was “I really couldn’t do it. I really couldn’t keep him alive.” But then at the same time, I knew all that we had been transformed into and knew the goal wasn’t to keep him alive at all.

So many complicated thoughts flashed through me. All that came out of my mouth was “NO!!” as I moaned and desperately held onto Dad. And Dad did what dads do — tried to fix it and snap me out of it.

I don’t remember the exact words he said, but something along the lines of “Ok, get it together.” It actually infuriated me.

Another torrent of words swept through my mind. “WHAT?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I have been a tower of strength for over five months. I have been strong for Tim and everyone else.

“WHEN DO I GET TO FALL APART??”

Visions of women in black tearing their clothes and wailing out loud came into view. Can’t I be like that?

But alas, all that happened was I straightened myself up and wept quietly with everyone else.

Continued entry:

I had it all figured out. I knew from my mom’s death that especially with Hospice care, they tell you when to make that urgent call to everyone to come before it is too late.

I knew his breathing would begin to slow and the room would be packed as we quietly and peacefully waited for that last breath.

Shows you what I know.

Emily arrived within minutes after her dad died. She was totally fine with that. She is convinced he waited until she had landed and felt like she was still there. Our grandson Parker knew exactly who Grampy was. He would take people by the hand and point to him and say “owie.”

The principal brought Frankie to Hospice for us. Frankie said he was very glad that Parker came the day daddy died because it helped him not be sad.

So now I get to live with my last words to my husband being about his hot doctor. Everyone who knows us thinks it was a perfect last exchange… gotta have that sense of humor.

We’ve all agreed — it just doesn’t seem real, not at all. And I know that is normal. And then it is so real that my knees buckle all over again.

It was so strange to walk out of the building. It felt like we had been there for months, and these people who walk this incredibly difficult journey with you are suddenly gone, never to be seen again. And those not on that particular shift you don’t get to say bye to at all.

It is all so bizarre. As much as Tim and I planned in advance, today will still be a terribly busy day. Know when you see him, attend the service, or whatever, that even if things seem a little out of the ordinary, Tim picked most things out himself.

Of course, I tend to think a little outside of the box myself… is that an understatement?

Friday, October 15, 2010 Guestbook entry from our church family

Dear Darcy, Over the next several days and weeks, you will feel great love and caring from so many people who want to be there for you and Frankie. Although of course, I didn’t know Tim nearly as well as your close friends and family, I felt a change in him, even toward someone like me.

The last three or four times I saw Tim, he’d come up and HUG me with a big smile. That is the Tim I will remember, especially knowing that he was a shy man.

So, telling him his doctor is a hottie as your last words: PRICELESS.

Friday, October 15, 2010 Guestbook entry from my friend

Knowing Tim as I did, I think the last exchange was very much him. I also believe that his passing the way he did was “his way,” a way to surprise and do things differently.

You’re right. He was determined to do that to the end.

Although a surprise, it sounds like his last moments were peaceful and I’m glad for that. In my eyes, he won his “battle” and is now at home.

Friday, October 15, 2010 Guestbook entry from Frankie’s friend’s family

Darcy, Thank you so much for sharing Tim’s last day with us. You know, you think a lot like me. I probably would fill my husband in on the hot doctor as well. So you are not totally out of the norm… or maybe I am out of the box right with you.

Maybe when things settle down some, I hope you and I could get together. Tim told me to do that at his fundraiser at Friendly’s. Actually, he whispered it in my ear right after he said my family should come over swimming and no suits were needed.

That is the last laugh that Tim Colvin had given me. My response back to him was I only wanted him to have happy memories and our family skinny dipping in his pool would be a scary one.

He laughed and it made me feel really good. I do hope this story gives you a little chuckle during such a very sad time.

Friday, October 15, 2010 Guestbook entry from our church family

Darcy, My wife and I convey our deepest sympathies to you in your loss. As difficult as it has been, we know that the Lord was in charge throughout the process. We admire your courage and faith during this incredibly difficult time for you and your family.

We have followed from afar and you and Tim have been in our daily prayers. I know that you will have the prayers and loving support of a great community of people, all tied together in their love for our Lord. 

Friday, October 15, 2010 Guestbook entry from my friend

I have just read Tim’s death notice and your entry, you are so close to my heart and in my prayers. Thank you for taking the time to write down your journey in the midst of all the other loving care-taking you have been doing.

Thank you for sharing every imaginable emotion with all of us. Thank you for exposing and risking sharing every step of your journey with all of us. You are a great teacher in the journey of both life and death.

May you find comfort in knowing that you were a great lover to Tim and that Tim greatly loved you. May that love bring you great peace and contentment. End entry

Of course, I didn’t know it at the time I read Jill’s entry, but just about two weeks later, her husband would pass away in the Hospice room across the hall from where Tim’s was. Her husband battled cancer longer than we did, and I don’t think they had even a small fraction of the support that we did.

What a brave woman. YOU are a great teacher also, my friend.

Saturday, October 16, 2010 8:28 AM

Do you all remember a while ago when we worked so hard to get the name of the patient that had the same diagnosis? Rose and her husband Wyatt invited us into their home and shared their journey with us.

About a month ago, she called us and spoke with Tim about how he made the decision to continue treatment or switch to palliative care. It was so nice to hear from her.

Yesterday, Wyatt called; Rose passed away on Tuesday! He had seen our notice in the paper. I was so pleased he called but so terribly saddened. I still have goosebumps just thinking about it. What are the chances they would both pass within two days of each other?

We promised to get together for tea in the near future to discuss our journeys and the paths that lie ahead. Those of you who believe in serendipity, divine appointments, or whatever, will appreciate that story.

Saturday, October 16, 2010 Guestbook entry from my high school friend’s parents

You are priceless. Your ability to see the sunshine through the clouds is unbelievable… and will get you through the days to come. Frankie has a wonderful role model. End entry

It was now time for the funeral home. I’ve had plenty of experience with this over the years. There were a couple of ironies about this day that hit me.

The calling hours are on October 16th. That was the original date the benefit was scheduled. We had decided to move it up in case Tim wasn’t feeling well by October. Never, ever in my wildest dreams would I have thought that Tim would be gone by then. That never crossed my mind. Now, instead of a party, we are hosting funeral home hours.

October 16th is also Sweetest Day this year. In all honesty, Tim was much better at the romantic stuff than I was. He sometimes said he had the “girl memory” and I had the “boy memory.” Like he kept a beverage napkin from the bed and breakfast where we spent our wedding night.

Anyhow, somehow I recognized Saturday as Sweetest Day, and then I recognized that Sweetest Day, 2000 is the day that Tim proposed to me. He had a tin box of chocolates (smart man) and a small stuffed puppy dog that held the ring. A great memory.

How bitter to be having his funeral calling hours on the same day exactly one decade later.

When I told our daughter Emily, she slipped right into action. Tim had intended on making his own picture boards for the funeral home. He had started printing out shots he wanted, but our computer program ran into a glitch I just couldn’t get fixed in a timely fashion. Then Tim just plain ran out of energy.

All of Tim’s older kids have their father’s artistic talent. Emily was especially good at collages so she locked herself up in my office and went to work. She did a phenomenal job of course, but she made a special Sweetest Day board of just Tim and me. It was lovely.

My sisters and friend took me shopping yesterday for something to wear. I am glad we figured out what Tim was wearing. He wanted a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and his Sabres hat. The hat didn’t look right so we set it next to him.

My dad panicked when we walked into the funeral home. “Where’s his suit?” I was glad I could tell him Tim picked his own clothes out so I didn’t get any disapproving lectures.

I know people say things like “Oh, he or she looks so good” and it seems like a ridiculous thing to say about someone in a casket, but Tim really did look great.

His looks had changed so much over the months as his weight went up and down. He looked just like the Tim we all knew and loved. And having those clothes on him was just perfect.

While we were getting ready at the house, about 15 minutes before we needed to leave, I suddenly let out a huge squeal. I had totally forgotten some very important things. The word-find book and flashlight!

I quickly told my family the story and they looked at me like “Are you serious?” I told them I was deadly serious, no pun intended.

So they quickly got in their cars and ran to the store to get a word-find book and flashlight. I went to the computer and typed out a quick note to place in the casket, explaining why those things were included.

Tim was able to give everyone one last chuckle as they walked by his casket to pay their respects.

We did the usual calling hours. I have no idea how many people actually came, but I know the lines went out the door for the entire time period. I know people didn’t even come in because of the wait.

For the evening hours, I got smart and let someone bring me wine and keep my cup filled for me.

Just a couple of snafus. During the first set of hours, I found myself standing next to Sheila (Tim’s first wife) and her husband. We have been “friendly” for several years now. Her family came over to the house this summer and had a barbecue to spend some time with Tim. Sheila came to the house the day Tim went into Hospice.

But I had to admit I felt very awkward greeting people in front of the casket and then introducing them to Tim’s first wife. Sheila is also extremely shy and I’m quite sure she didn’t relish being in that position either. I finally said something and Sheila and her husband left the line.

Later I found out that I really upset my daughter (step-daughter for clarification purposes). She felt like her father had just died and she needed her mother by her side.

I understood how she felt and was sorry she was upset, but I understood how I felt too. I just couldn’t handle it along with everything else I was dealing with. Not at Tim’s casket.

Emily eventually forgave me, but it’s one of those stories we will just never agree on.

As things were clearing out, I could sense there was some sort of conflict going on. For the most part, people tried to keep things away from me, figuring I had enough to deal with burying my husband. The problem is, when you are a therapist, you are pretty keen at picking up vibes — apparently even when you are exhausted.

There were some flowers delivered to the funeral home from someone close to one of Tim’s family members. (I didn’t know the sender personally.) So those family members felt that the flowers belonged to them and wanted to take them home.

When I figured out what was going on, I approached them and said they could take “their” flowers as well as any others that were there.

At some point in the night, I remembered that tonight was the other benefit being held where we were one of two recipients. I decided that I wanted to make an appearance. My sister and brother-in-law took me, and Tim’s nephew and girlfriend came too.

I was so grateful to them, especially Tim’s family. It was really nice to have someone there to represent his side of the family. We didn’t stay long but had a couple of drinks and chatted with some people I knew.

The organization ended up paying our mortgage for a month or two. In spite of the day’s activities, I had to tally some on the sweet side as well.

Sunday, October 17, 2010 Guestbook entry from Tim’s cousin

Darcy and kids, God bless you all, and may He hold you tenderly and safely in His hand as you begin another journey forward. I know Tim will cherish you from above and be within you, as I feel those I have lost in my life even now.

I vowed to celebrate those I have lost and see them in all the joys of life that I have before me, to celebrate their lives and cherish their memory. It has made healing more possible as time goes on.

Please reach out to those who love you and desire to be there for you…Tim would want you to be comforted.

Something that has helped me with those passed on: “Although your ship sails from our sight, it does not mean the journey ends. It only means the river bends…”

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