A Letter to My Best Friend

Dear Tami,

It is December 31, 2011 and we are on the brink of a new year.  The last 13 months without you have not only flown by but have brought with them joys, sorrows, challenges, hard decisions, eye opening experiences, open doors, closed doors, and immense growth and healing.  I still remember, like yesterday, our last week together.  I will always cherish the conversations shared, the laughter, the prayers, the tears, and the memories.  The day we said goodbye, my heart broke.  There was still so much life we wanted to live, vacations we wanted to take, and dreams we wanted to realize.  Strolling Paris at night, sipping coffee during the day, photographing everything in sight.  Cruising Alaska, seeing the Orcas and some of the most beautiful scenery around.  Taking that trip to Canada and doing all the things you didn't get to do the last time you were there.  Turning your passion for photography into your own business, TamiS Photography.  Our list was so much longer, but these were at the top.  The list of things we did get to do together is so much longer, and I am grateful for all of those memories.

What you gave me in the 12 years we were friends is priceless.  You came into my life when I was broken and searching.  You accepted me as I was, yet cared enough to show me that I didn't have to stay broken.  You took my hand and led me down the path to healing and wholeness.  You were my cheerleader. You were my encourager.  You were my guide.  Little did we know that we would find in each other a kinship, a sisterhood, a bond that could not easily be broken.  We balanced each other out.  You taught me how to accept everyone as they are, to love unconditionally, to forgive always, to practice selflessness, and to have faith, even as small as a mustard seed.  As I watched you battle for your life, I was humbled and moved by your faith, belief, gratefulness, determination, acceptance, grace, forgiveness, and hope.  Again, priceless lessons about life and how to live it.

I want you to know that I have been blessed with phenomenal friends, family and grief support group.  I would not be where I am today without them.  Family includes your family as well.  I am finally making some much needed changes, kinda like you did when you realized certain things in life just weren't worth the emotional cost.  You have inspired me to make my dreams a reality and I am on my way to doing so.  You would love this next chapter of my life, and I would have loved to share it with you.  Each day has its ups and downs and there are so many things that happen that I wish I could tell you about.  For instance, tonight I went to see Midnight in Paris with Cheryl.  The whole time, all I could think about was the trip we wanted to take and how we would have loved strolling the streets, viewing the Eiffel Tower, sipping coffee, etc.  But more than that, the message of the movie was so "you".  The movie exemplified the difference between living a mediocre life one feels trapped in, and living out your dreams and what you are passionate about.  It was so good to see you live out your dreams and passion for what time you had left.  You will always be in my heart as the footprints left there are permanent.  Cheers to a new year full of triumphs, victories, change, realization of dreams, continued to growth and healing, and the continued sharing of your journey and legacy.  Happy 2012! 

The Holidays...dread them or celebrate them?

Tami passed November 19, 2010, the week before Thanksgiving.  We postponed the service until after Thanksgiving.  Her family and I continued with plans as normal, for both Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It was evident that someone was missing every time we got together.  We all did our best to keep our composure and get through.  When Christmas came, her kids and I decided to do Christmas morning the same.  So the kids came over to what was their mother's house, exchanged stockings, had breakfast...I gave them their gifts and then they went to other family member's homes throughout the day.  I kept their mom's tradition of getting them funny gifts for their stockings and getting the boys their boxers.  


As I look back on last year now, I think we were all still in shock.  Shock has a way of protecting us.  I found myself on "auto-pilot" quite a bit.  WebMD defines shock as a state of profound mental and physical depression consequent to severe physical injury or to emotional disturbance.  Shock kept me from falling apart last year.  But, so did my family and friends who were always one step ahead of me, ready to be and give whatever I needed.  Leaning on them made a huge difference.  Where would we be without those who truly care about us?   


But, this year...it is different.  A year has gone by without her here.  Should we continue to dread those family get togethers or find a way to celebrate them, keeping her memory alive?  Last year, we all started a new tradition of going to dinner, Fashion Island to see the tree, and Roger's Gardens (all favorites of Tami's), and this year we did it again.  I am going to continue to choose to find a way to celebrate the holidays and other special occasions and keep her memory alive.  If there is one thing I know about Tami, she would want each of us to go on living, not dreading.  She would want us to make new memories and start new traditions.  She would want us to fulfill our hopes and dreams...and in doing so, we keep her memory alive.  So this holiday season, if you are missing a loved one and are dreading the holidays, ask yourself what would that loved one truly want for you, and take a step closer to celebrating together as family/friends.  

The Caregiver - A Bridge Over Troubled Water

I love music.  I love the meaning certain songs convey.  One of my favorite songs has always been "Bridge Over Troubled Water".  My favorite version of the song belongs to Il Divo.  Their voices are like heaven to me.  As I listened to this version of the song while Tami was ill, it seriously brought to light a whole new meaning for me.

When you're weary, feeling small; when tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all.
I'm on  your side when times get rough, and friends just can't be found.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.

When you're down and out, when you're on the street.
When evening falls so hard, I will comfort you.
I'll take your part, when darkness comes, and pain is all around.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.

Sail on silver girl, sail on by.
Your time has come to shine, all your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine, if you need a friend, I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind.

Feeling weary and small.  Tears.  Rough times.  Friends can't be found.  Feeling down and out.  Evening falling hard.  Darkness and pain.  Sailing troubled water was a constant feeling that Tami had.  She felt as though she could never catch a break.  Nothing but bad news, bad side effects, difficult relationships, feeling alone, feeling defeated, facing the reality that her life may be over sooner than she wanted/expected.  How does one face this alone?

I was honored to be her best friend, her roommate and thus her caregiver.  The caregiver helps dry the tears, lays themselves down, is the constant friend and companion.  The caregiver comforts and shares in the pain, anguish and sorrow, and takes the hard part as well.  The caregiver helps to make dreams come true.  The caregiver sails right behind, and eases their mind.  I can say that I was able to do all of this and much more for her.  We cried together many times.  We prayed together.  We researched together.  We confronted together.  We celebrated together.  We laughed together.  She always found something to be hopeful about, even in her final days.  Her journey, her fight, her faith, her strength, her resilience, her patients, her mercy, her life will forever be an inspiration to me.

For those of you who are currently caregiving, yes it is exhausting, yes it is hard and often painful.  But you are the BRIDGE over the troubled water.  You are the ROCK that provides stability and consistency.  You are the SHIP sailing behind encouraging, yet ready to pick them up when they fall.  You are the BLESSING put in the life of one suffering for a reason.  Just as much for you as for them.  May your journey be as life changing and rewarding as mine.  Even though the outcome was not what I wanted or hoped for, that chapter was a part of my life for a reason.  Find a support group or a team of people who can support you as the caregiver.  Don't forget to take care of you too.

What helps me cope?

This is a common question asked of someone who has lost someone very close to them, a loved one.  So, here is what helps me cope.

Talking about her and the things we did together.
Celebrating her life, her example, her legacy.
Going to our favorite places (bench at CDM, Disneyland, Fashion Island, etc).
Writing this blog.
Finding a way to make a difference in the lives of others, especially those battling cancer.
Creating a Non-Profit that will minister to and help patients and families.
Directing OC's Get Your Rear In Gear 5K that raises awareness for screening for Colon Cancer.
Looking to my faith in Jesus Christ to heal my broken heart.
Spending time with friends and family.
Walks around the lake I live near, or along the beach.
Taking a drive, listening to music.
Doing her favorite things with friends and family.
Believing that she would want me and all of us to go on living life to its fullest.
Staying connected with her kids.

It is possible to cope with immense loss and pain in positive ways.  Hope this list inspires you to create your own, then act on it.  Life is full of moments that are just waiting to take our breath away, will you let it?

The Emotional Roller Coaster

They say that loss and grief bring about a variety of feelings in stages.  I am not much of a believer in stages, per se, but I can attest to the fact that the Emotional Roller Coaster you ride during a significant loss is very real and if you are not careful, it can consume you. 

I would have to say that for the first several weeks I was still in shock, however, there were very real times where my heart physically ached and all I could do was cry.  It was even hard to catch my breath at times.  The only way I could explain it was that my heart hurt, and I didn’t think anything could stop it from hurting.  Every time I walked by her room, came home from work, drove by our favorite places, heard our favorite songs, watched our favorite TV shows…there was a pit in my stomach and a hole in my heart.

There are times where I would find myself bursting into tears for no apparent reason, but I was told that was “normal” after such a significant loss.  There were also times where I would find myself smiling or even laughing when I would remember something or do something we found enjoyable or funny.  As roommates, and best friends, we would clean the apartment every Sunday to the movie Mama Mia and at times just be silly.  For the first three months, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that as it was too painful and reminded me of the friend that was no longer with me.  Then something changed…the movie was on TV one evening so I decided to watch it.  I did not cry, but I laughed and I remembered us laughing at it together and just enjoying it.

There were so many things we wanted to do together – cruise Alaska, go to Europe (especially Paris), travel the states, go to Hawaii, go the Caribbean, get her photography business up and running, etc.  The fact that I won’t be able to share any of these hopes and dreams with my best friend, angers me.  I am told this also “normal”.  I can’t say that have spent too much time being angry, but I do have my moments, when I consider the unfairness of it all…both for her and for those of us who loved her. 

I didn’t really go into denial, and I think that is because we started grieving the diagnosis when received in 2009.  We knew this was coming, we just hoped it wouldn’t have come so soon.  For me, taking care of her every day, and seeing the progression of disease didn’t allow me to be in denial, and I am grateful for this.  It is by no means an easy journey to help someone die peacefully, gracefully, and with dignity, but I truly would not change it for the world. 

I write this post as I am riding in my dad's car coming back from Telluride, Colorado.  To get there and back, the majority of the route is the same that Tami and I used to drive when we went to Utah to visit her daughter.  Each familiar sight, restaurant, hotel...and each song that played reminded me of our road trips together and I began to cry as I looked out the window.  The pain of the loss is still there, and I imagine will be for a long time.

I think I can say that I have found many moments of joy and peace in the midst of the loss, pain, and anger.  I believe that I was able to do this with the help of some really great friends and family, as well as my faith in my almighty God who never gives us more than we can handle and who has a plan bigger than our little worldview can see.  That plan clearly included hosting a 5K Race in Irvine in November with Get Your Rear In Gear to raise awareness for colon cancer education and screening, as well as starting a Non-Profit called the TamiS Colon Cancer Foundation which will use Tami’s talents of photography and writing and provide tools to other cancer patients and their families.  Eventually it will include an in-home service/ministry called “How do you pack for this journey” where we will help patients and families with the practical things as well as end of life coaching.  Tami’s legacy will live on and will touch many because of who she was.  I know I am a different, better person for having known her and taken care of her.

Firsts Without You

The first "First" without you came at Thanksgiving last year.  My mom stayed with me through Thanksgiving and we cooked at our house, just like we had planned.  The day after Thanksgiving we went to your parents house to have Thanksgiving with your family.  We gave your kids the letters you wrote them with their baby pictures in the background.  We also gave them each a copy of your grateful list.  It amazed us all how you found so much to be grateful for in the midst of such suffering.  You were a huge inspiration to me every day.

The second "First" without you was Justin's birthday, December 3.  He was up North with my folks and they had a dinner for him with friends, but I know that it wasn't the same for him.  You always made them their favorite meal, and angel food cake.  You also always found just the right present for them that they had been wanting forever.

The third "First" without you came at Christmas last year.  I stayed down the south to be with your kids and your family, then Ashley and I came up North for a week with my parents and Justin.  On Christmas morning, the five kids came over the apartment and opened their stockings, just like they would have done with you.  I had picked up funny things you would have found and continued your tradition of giving the boys character boxers. I also made photo calendars for each of them (and the rest of the family) with both pictures you took and pictures of you.  Then I went to Donna & Eddie's to celebrate with your family.  No matter how  hard we tried, there was a huge void, you were missing.

The fourth "First" without you came at New Year's.  I found myself remembering all the New Year's Eves we had spent, either at Disneyland, out to a nice dinner and then home, or just at home watching the specials on TV.  Those memories will be forever in my heart.  Then New Year's Day, Ashley and I were joking that you were probably watching the parade from the best seats in the house.  I remember us going to look at the floats one year after the parade and what a zoo it was, worse than peak season at Disneyland!

The fifth "First" came in March when Ashley had a birthday on the 15th.  She went to Sea World with Kevin, Kathleen and Andrea and had a great time.  I cooked for her and Kevin one night, just like you would have.  I even tried making an angel food cake, but I had just moved and didn't know how long I had to wait for my very old oven to turn on , so I gave her the cake mix to take home and bake.  Again, we all tried to make it a great birthday for her, but you were missing.  You could never be replaced.

The sixth "First" came in June, when Danielle graduated high school.  What a day to celebrate.  She had been through so much during high school and it was such a challenge for her, but she did it!  I sat alone in the bleachers thinking about you the whole time, sobbing, as I knew there was nowhere else you would rather be than watching her graduate that day.  I know that you were so very proud of her on that day.

The seventh "First" came in July, when Danielle turned 19.  She celebrated with her friends.  I did not get to see her or make dinner for her, but I know there was a part of her missing you, your dinner, your angel food cake and that once in a lifetime gift you had a knack for finding.

The eighth "First" came in July as well, when Ashley and Kevin got engaged.  They were up at Caspar Beach for the weekend, staying in mom and dad's beach trailer.  They walked out to the lighthouse you so beautifully photographed, at sunset and he proposed to her.  The ring is absolutely beautiful, and I know she was excited beyond measure, but I also know her heart must have sunk as you would have been the first person she called to tell.

The ninth "First" also came in July when Ashley found her wedding dress.  Another moment I know you lived for and would have given anything to be there for.  She looked absolutely stunning in it.  Can't wait to see it on  her on her big day in October.

The tenth "First" came in August, your birthday, on the 18th.  I spent the week on vacation with my folks in Auburn.  We golfed on your birthday, and at the end of the second hole, a hummingbird was sitting on a wire fence, singing at the top of its lungs.  Even though I got closer, it didn't stop, it didn't move or fly away.  It even stayed still for a picture.  I told myself, that had to have been you :-)  You loved hummers :-)  And, mom and I were in desperate need of some help with our swings.  I spent the day remembering everything we had done for your birthday...San Francisco, Auburn, Celine, Caspar Beach, etc.  Going to dinner at Roy's, Wild Fish and other favorite places.  Oh, how I missed you today and the friendship we shared for 12 years.  There were times we even celebrated your birthday with mom's, as hers is the day after yours.  Last night we went to dinner at Ruth's Chris, mom, Woody and I to celebrate her birthday.  There was an empty chair at our table and it felt as if you were there with us like always.  On our way home we picked up a bottle of Bailey's and toasted to you when we got home.  Oh, how you are missed.

There were several other birthdays that came and went, like Donna's, your dad's and Eddie's.  Each one a first celebration without you. 

I could go on and on about all of the little things that happen each day that are "Firsts" I cannot share with you in person, but I know each day as I write to you or talk to you, you are a part of it.  Happy Birthday, my dear friend, I hope it was the best ever as you celebrated in the presence of the Lord.

Things That Just Suck

Sorry for the title, but often that is the reality when you lose a loved one.  We all feel it, but not all of us are brave enough to say it.  Tami wanted nothing more than to be the best mom to her kids.  She wanted to see the last one graduate, all of them get married, all of them have children...she dreamed of kissing her grandkids and spoiling them.  She wanted to watch them all be successful in their careers and get out on their own.  Since her passing, two of her sons found full-time employment and moved out on their own, or with friends; her youngest daughter graduated high school and turned 19; her oldest daughter got engaged, went wedding dress shopping and will be getting married in October.  As Tami's best friend, I know how much these things meant to her.  I also know how much each of the kids misses her when something happens they wish they could share with her.  It just sucks that she can't share in these moments in person as she had hoped and dreamed.

As a minister at heart, Tami wanted all to know the healing peace that only God can bring during a battle against cancer.  As an advocate, she wanted her peers and others to come who are battling colon cancer to take it seriously and catch it early, and to not be too busy with life to get a test done.  Since Tami's passing, her family and I have partnered with the Colon Cancer Coalition's Get Your Rear In Gear 5K Run/Walk to raise money for colon cancer awareness and screening.  The race will be Orange County's first and the 4th of its kind on the West Coast.  We are doing the race on the anniversary of her passing, November 19, 2011 in Irvine, CA.  More details to come.  Her family and I have also started to create a non-profit called TamiS Colon Cancer Foundation.  With this foundation, we will oversee the Get Your Rear In Gear fundraiser, continue her photography passion with TamiS Photography and offer the ministry piece to families "How Do You Pack For This Journey".  Our goal is to partner with families through terminal disease and help bring that peace Tami experienced as she went from being in this world, to being with her Lord and Savior.  Again, this just sucks.  She would have wanted to be a part of this, as this was her dream.

So, there you go, things that just suck!  Do you have a list of things that just suck?  It's ok to list them out.  It's ok to acknowledge they suck.  But, don't stay there...acknowledge the disappointment, the hurt, the sadness, the loss and then turn those feelings into something positive, productive, and life changing.  Tami's family and I are doing just that.

How Do You Say Goodbye?

The last week of Tami's life was full of so many moments I will cherish forever.  Each day when I came home from work, I would go sit with her in her bedroom, and we would talk about each other's day.  If she was hungry, I would make her dinner.  Her sister had spent each day with her while I was at work and took care of her as well.  As each day passed, and she got weaker and weaker, and unable to get out of bed, we all knew the time to say goodbye was drawing near.  Every night that week her oldest daughter came over after work to spend time with her.  Every day that week her second oldest son spent the day with her.  They watched movies together that made them laugh, like Madagascar, or they talked.


On Wednesday, November 17th, when I came home and spent some time with her, I could see the tiredness and the weakness in her eyes.  I could tell she was spent, out of energy.  She put up one of the most honest, courageous, humble fights I have ever seen.  I so desperately wanted her to know that she could stop fighting if she needed to.  I grabbed her hand and complimented her on her battle and what an example she has been to all, and then I told her that if she was done fighting, that it was ok, she could go rest and be at peace.  It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life.  I told her that we would all make it and be ok; that she would always be in my heart and I would miss her.  She then looked at me and told me that I would always be in her heart and she would be waiting for me.  Every time I think about moment, I can't help but cry...even as I type it now, I have tears running down my face.


My best friend, my kindred spirit, my sister-in-christ, my roommate, the one I did everything with; the one I conquered the storms of life with; the one who taught me to see the wonderful things that make me, me...the time had come to say goodbye.  The morning of Friday, November 19, 2010 I went to work as usual, but was coming back home around 10 to meet with the hospice nurse.  When I got home to meet with the nurse, both of Tami's sisters were there, and then shortly after 4 of the 5 kids came over.  They had all just planned to spend time with her that day, none of us knew what was coming.  The nurse needed to get a verbal consent from Tami to begin hospice services.  We went back into her bedroom and the nurse tried to get her attention from the foot of the bed, with no luck.  I, then, went to the head of the bed and talked into her ear with my hand on her forehead.  She looked up at me and for the first time in the journey saw fear in her eyes.  She seemed unaware of her surroundings.  I asked her if we could start hospice, and after taking a deep breath, she said yes.  The nurse said she couldn't hear it, and needed me to get her to say it again,  but she had such a hard time at that point.  Her sisters and I her heard it so the nurse went ahead and took the consent.  That was the last time Tami opened, her eyes, talked or acknowledged other people's presence with her.  I walked out of the room with her sisters and the nurse and started crying.  I knew at that moment that the time was nearer than expected.  The overwhelming feeling of losing her consumed me...but, paperwork needed to be done and I needed to get back to work for a meeting.  As the day progressed, we all pretty much knew she was not going to make it much longer. Tami's folks were called, the son in Arizona was called, other local family members were called.  The paperwork for hospice was long and time consuming.  When it came to answer questions about extraordinary measures and burial or cremation, everyone was in agreement with no arguments.  Tami had suffered enough in this life and if she had the opportunity to meet her Lord and Savior in her own bed, we were committed to giving that to her.  At about 4 pm, she took her last breath.  We all had the opportunity to say goodbye to her, except for her youngest son.  He was the one coming from Arizona who didn't land until 9pm that night.  It was the most bittersweet moment I have ever experienced.  I was so glad she was no longer suffering, or in pain, or needing any further blood draws, or treatments, etc.  But, on the other hand, my best friend was gone.  The comfort of family and friends was tremendous that night for all of us.  One of the pastor's from the church she worked at came to the house and cried with us, prayed with us, shared words of encouragement with us.  


Obviously I did not go back to work as the events of the day unfolded, but the people that I work with were so supportive and understanding and grieving with me.  I am so thankful for all of them.  


It isn't goodbye, but Until We Meet Again One Sweet Day!!!

Putting Cancer Into Perspective

Tami’s stats:

Urgent Care Visits – 12

ER Visits –   10

Hospitalizations –  7

Surgeries – 2

Doctor Appointments –  more than 50

Chemo Infusions –  about 20

Radiation Treatments –  7

Blood Draws –  too many to count

Scans/Tests –  more than 20

Medications – more than 15 at various times

Side Effects – nausea, loss of appetite, hair thinning, acne, fatigue, chemo brain, memory loss, vomiting, tingling in fingers and toes, twitching in eyes, numb tongue, mouth sores, runny nose, constipation, diarrhea, bowel colitis.

There were times when we were at a doctor, infusion, scan, test every day of the week.  Pure exhaustion is what she felt most of the time.  After looking again at the above, I don’t blame her.  There was barely energy to get out of bed, shower, get dressed, eat, etc.  In her own way, however, she was able to muster up enough energy to do those things and to continue to be the wonderful mother, daughter, sister, best friend, ministry leader she was.  We were told on several occasions that laughter was truly her best medicine as it releases tons of good chemicals within the body to boost the immune system.  We started watching movies like Madasgar, Click, Hitch…anything that would make her laugh.  It was also good to see her laugh, even in the midst of all of the above.  Oh, how I miss laughing with her, and watching those movies with her.  In light of all she went through, I would not want her to experience another day of all that as I know she is in complete peace now.  Cancer truly sucks.

Our Last Getaway

In the midst of battling such an emotionally, physically and spiritually draining illness, it is important to find times and places where you can find restoration.  Tami’s and my dream was to go to Paris.  I tried for months to make that happen, knowing that her time was short.  Chemo took a lot out of her, so making a trip that far was too much to take on.  So, instead we flew to San Francisco, rented a car and then drove to my parents’ beach trailer in Caspar Beach, near Mendocino.  It was her birthday week in August 2009.  With camera in hand, she captured the beauty of the ocean, lighthouses, flowers, trees, rivers, vineyards, benches, etc.  Photography was truly her passion.  We are so lucky to have all her photographs to share with others.  We walked, we hiked, we drove, we laughed.  We made smores, and enjoyed the best Clam Chowder.  We played Trivial Pursuit and could not answer any of the questions, so we pulled out the junior trivia questions we used as a family growing up.  She answered every question correctly, filled her piece, and won the game in one turn.  We laughed hysterically until we cried.

She was tired from finishing up her chemo, but she still wanted to see all the beautiful places on the northern coast.  We drove to lighthouses, the redwoods, glass beach, beautiful coves, and the pygmy forest.  I will never forget the time spent with her on this last trip.  She and I always had a great time wherever we went, but this one ended up being extra special…as it would really be our last.  One thing we both learned…life is short and we never know what tomorrow will bring (if it comes), so it is important to live each day to fullest, seizing every opportunity to enjoy the beauty around us, invest in those we love, meet the needs of those who are struggling, be the blessing and light in this often dark world.  

Accepting the Unacceptable

How does one finally give in to a plan that is so far from the one you have been hoping and praying for?  At what point do you realize that the end is near and the battle is over?  I think that Tami and I both started preparing for the undesired outcome of cancer, when she was first diagnosed in February of 2009.  I liked her phrase, “cautiously optimistic”.  She used it quite frequently.  Now, you can always prepare for the worst, but hope for the best, and that is exactly what she/we did.  There was not a day that went by where HOPE wasn’t before us.  Watching Tami wrestle with the possibility of dying sooner than she had anticipated, was humbling to say the least.  There was not a day that went by where she was not reading scripture or journaling or writing letters to her kids or making a list of who gets what.  If my memory serves me correctly, she started doing these things at least 6 months before she passed away.  She wanted to make sure her kids had in writing how much they meant to her, and how each had blessed her life in different ways.  She wanted them to hear her say she loved them no matter what choices they made in life.  She wanted them to hear her say that their God, her God, will never leave them or forsake them.  She wanted them to have these words on paper so they would always have it to go back to.  I believe Tami started preparing before the rest of us. 

Living with her on a daily basis, I was able to see the progression of disease.  There were days I would come home and all seemed well.  She was up and around and eating and overall in good spirits.  Then there were days where she couldn’t get out of bed, had no energy, slept a lot and didn’t eat.  Towards the end, within the last two weeks, I grew more and more concerned as she was not eating enough.  She was not getting enough nutrition or protein to keep her body functioning.  We all knew the liver was compromised and it would only be a matter of time.  I remember her asking me one day, within the last two weeks, why she was so tired and weak.  And I in turn asked if she knew what was happening.  She knew that her body was shutting down on her.  She knew that her fight was coming to an end.  She knew that the day was coming where she would leave her beaten, battered, diseased body. 

As each day passed, it became more real to me that time was short.  I too needed to accept that my best friend was dying, and would be gone soon, and that God’s plan was not mine.  I chose to savor, take advantage of, create any kind of moment that time allowed us to have.  There was nothing left unsaid.  There were no regrets.  We both knew exactly what 12 years of friendship brought to the other.  We both knew that the memories made will be forever engraved on our hearts.  We both knew that we would see each other again.  But, how does one truly accept these things as truth and not just remind yourself that these are good things to remember?  You have to let go.  You have to trust that God’s plan is bigger than your.  You have to understand that only God knows when to end suffering.  You have to believe that the almighty God who created the universe and you, knows the number of hairs on our head, and the number of days we will breathe.  

More on Doctors...

Hospital doctors did not prove to be much better.  During one hospitalization, three different doctors could not even agree on what Tami had.  It was so frustrating to hear one say one thing and another come in and say the complete opposite.  We actually sent them back downstairs to talk to radiology and not come back until they all agreed on the same thing.  Each scenario had a different outcome and treatment, and again were at entirely different ends of the spectrum.

We met Oncologist number 4 when the 3^rd one went out on medical leave.  He was covering in Irvine, part time as he practiced out of Riverside.  Our first meeting with him was on a Saturday after Tami was discharged from the hospital with bowel colitis.  We loved everything he had to see and especially his personal, out-of-the-box approach to treatment.  By this time, we knew Tami was not typical.  She did not respond typically to chemo.  She did not have a typical kind of cancer.  Yet, everyone wanted to treat her as typical.  Someone needed to start thinking outside the box.  The things he offered made sense and his explanation of things made sense.  However, when the first lesion showed up on her liver, he down played it and said that he could not be sure it was cancer.  The following month another scan was done, and now there were 7, too many to treat, and then two months later, there were too many to count.  Again, she was told, nothing more could be done for her, except to continue systemic chemo treatments.  So far, every one put her in the hospital with side effects. 

At this point, Tami decided to go to Oasis of Hope.  It is a Christian based integrative cancer treatment center.  The original hospital is in Mexico, but they have an outpatient center in Irvine.  At our first appointment with the Integrative doctor, he listened intently to her for almost 2 hours.  Then, he asked to pray with and for her.  We were all amazed and shocked!!!  She had found a place where she would be loved, cared for, prayed for, and treated as a whole person, not just a cancer patient.  We met with the Oncologist from there to go over possible treatment options, and he suggested focus beam radiation for the biggest tumor by the rectum, and then possible ablation to the liver afterwards.  Tami then contacted Kaiser to meet with a different Oncologist, yes this is number 5, to discuss the recommendations made.  He agreed to refer to radiation oncology.  We met with the Radiation Oncologist to discuss course of treatment.  He suggested focused beam radiation, but to a wider area of the abdomen to try to reach more of the cancer.  So, we scheduled 10 days of radiation.  Back and forth every day from Ontario.  The good news was that the radiation alleviated her pain, but the bad news was that the radiation tapped her physically.  She was already having appetite and eating issues, and they just got worse.  It was not long after radiation that she passed away.

Doctors...Friend or Foe?

Every book you read about fighting cancer, or every survivor you talk to, tells you how important it is to have faith in your doctors.  We all grow up believing that our doctors have our best interest at heart and what to treat an illness the best they know how.  What happened to those days?  When your doctor knew you by name, knew every illness you ever had, even knew the things you did in life that made you happy.  Tami’s insurance was with Kaiser when she became ill.  2 urgent care doctors, and 2 ER doctors missed the possibility of a blockage, and or tumor.  They just wanted to treat her for constipation.  The third ER doctor was the first to be suspicious of something and ordered a CT Scan.

When the surgeon came to talk to Tami about her scans, and the surgery he was going to perform on her, he actually pulled out his Iphone and showed her a video of him doing the surgery on another patient.  Now, some people might have appreciated that or wanted to see it, but honestly, Tami and I were both a bit appalled.  He went on and on about how many of these surgeries he has done, and how successful he has been.  If it was meant to reassure us, it didn’t…it just made us think he was proud and arrogant.  Now that we know what we know, there was a HUGE possibility the cancer had already seeded Tami’s abdomen when that first surgery was done.  The surgeon removed the tumor, knew that it had broken through the muscle wall of the colon, but at no point opened her up further to see if the cancer had spread.  He relied only on the CT Scan, and went after what could be seen.  Friend or foe?

Tami’s first Oncologist appeared to be very book smart, but not really experienced.  Every time we went to see her, we would bring a detailed list of the side effects Tami was experiencing from the chemo treatments.  She would dismiss the complaints, by saying, “people don’t typically have these side effects”.  Tami felt as though this doctor did not care about her as an individual, but only knew what to do for typical patients.  We learned early on that Tami experienced all of the less typical side effects.  Isn’t the goal of the Oncologist to help treat the cancer, and maintain the side effects at a minimum?  Friend or foe?  New Oncologist here we come.

Tami’s second Oncologist came as a recommendation from a friend of the family.  He was a Christian and treated Tami with the care and respect she had bee looking for.  For the first visit, he listened for almost 2 hours as she shared each side effect to the chemo treatment in detail.  At this point in the treatment cycle, Tami had been experiencing issues with her heart, so this Oncologist wanted to order some heart tests.  When the tests came back normal and after having met with a Cardiologist, the Oncologist offered several game plans to Tami.  He told her that the 9 of 12 rounds she had completed was probably good enough.  He offered to continue the current treatment, change to a pill form, or do nothing and just monitor.  This all took place about August.  In October, Tami started having pain in her abdomen.  We started the trips to urgent care and the ER all over again.  We even made a trip to her Oncologist.  He told her that there was NO WAY her pain could be related to her cancer, and that she needed to continue to de-stress her life.  We spent several months going to her primary care doctor, Urologist, OB GYN, Oncologist, etc.  In December, without doing any kind of diagnostic scans, her Oncologist declared her in remission, with just her CEA blood level (which her previous Oncologist said was not reliable with Tami).  While this was exciting news, Tami was still in pain, and we questioned whether or not his news was premature.  In January, we ended up in Pain Management, as no one could find what would be causing her pain in her abdomen.  She had her next check up with Oncologist, and he finally showed some concern.  He ordered a PET Scan, which showed suspicious spots in the abdomen.  He then ordered a CT and confirmed that there were 3 nodules in pelvis, one pretty large by her rectum.  He called her in to talk with her, and apologized for missing the spread.  He said that it is quite common for people with colon cancer to experience this kind of spread to the abdomen.  She was now Stage IV.  She was shocked, bewildered, mad…again, felt let down by those who took an oath to “First, do no harm”.  Friend or foe?

Tami made an appointment for second opinion with another Kaiser Oncologist.  We saw her once…yes this is Oncologist number 3.  She was very knowledgeable, very experienced, but had no relationship skills.  She started Tami on a second line chemotherapy.  This doctor ended up going out on medical leave.

This post has so much more to include…but I will spare you for now, and pick up with more about her doctors in the next post.  

Feeling Helpless

As the caregiver, you want to make sure you have done everything possible to help with whatever is needed.  But, sometimes there is absolutely nothing you can do and you find yourself feeling helpless.  With Tami, it was extremely important for her to maintain her weight, as she was already thin prior to her chemo treatments.  But, when someone has no appetite, or feels ill, most of the time, it was hard to find something that she would eat.  She knew that whatever she ate would probably increase her sick feeling, and either result in vomiting or diarrhea.  Neither of which any of us would consider fun.  To her, food was almost an enemy, but she needed it in order to sustain her health.  Different shakes were tried to increase her protein intake and give her much-needed nutrients.  In the last two weeks before she passed away, I could tell that she was not eating/drinking near enough to keep her body sustained.  I would offer everything I could think of that I knew she liked, and if she said yes to something, she would only take a couple of bites and say she was full.  The helpless feeling began to consume me, as I knew what would happen as a result of her not eating/drinking enough.  Like Tami, I had to look to my God, seek His purpose, understand His plan…not my own.

As the caregiver, you want to take the pain and suffering away.  But, you realize you can’t.  You might even contemplate how you could take this person’s place so they don’t have to suffer anymore.  Watching Tami live with pain for almost two years was so very difficult.  Pain meds didn’t work, ice didn’t work, nothing relieved her pain.  Where ever we went, we took ice packs for her to sit on.  She was not comfortable sitting, laying down, walking…it was so hard to watch and know there was nothing I could do.  The only One who can take away pain, is our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ…and that is exactly what He did on November 19, 2010.  He reached down, took her broken, battered, ill, body home where she was given her new heavenly body…absolute perfection with no pain, no sorrow, no suffering, no blemishes, no illness, no nausea…

She was entirely healed.  Helpless turned into humbled rejoicing.  Humbled to have been given the opportunity to care for my best friend and all the lessons learned with her, and rejoicing that she was in heaven with her loving Lord and Savior. 

The Dreaded Treatment - Chemotherapy (First Course)

Well, thanks for understanding my little detour last week.  God is faithful and has filled my broken heart with peace, comfort, love and joy.  I am grateful for his loving care.

So, the next step for Tami was to see an Oncologist.  Her first appointment was with an Oncologist in Anaheim, as the one she was assigned to was out of town.  Her parents went to the appointment with her.  The Oncologist discussed her percentage of survival with chemotherapy and without it.  She also discussed the percentage of recurrence after the chemotherapy treatment.  Because the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes and the tumor broke through the muscle wall, she was Stage III T4.  In order to understand what this meant, off to the internet we went to look it up.  This became a habitual practice for us.  Stage III T4 means that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes and broken through the muscle wall into the abdominal cavity.  No one appeared to be too concerned with the fact that the tumor broke through the muscle wall in the early diagnosis and treatment stages.

The Oncologist recommended the standard first line of treatment for Colon Cancer.  It is called Folfox and consists of 5-FU, Leucovorin, and Oxalipatin.  This particular treatment required that Tami have a port-a-cath placed under her skin as she would be required to wear a chemo pump at home for 3 days.  She was so nervous about starting chemotherapy and the side effects she could experience, yet she once again conquered her fear and anxiety.  It was hard to watch the nurse try to get the needle into the port, as it caused Tami a lot of pain.  Once the IV was hooked up, it was about a 4 to 5 hour day.  She was always very tired after her infusions.  The infusion nurses go over with you the possible side effects you can get from these medications, but they only go over the most common, not the least common.  We quickly found out that Tami was prone to the uncommon side effects. 

She made it through 9 of 12 rounds of this chemo cocktail (about 5 months of treatment).  The side effects had gotten to be so bad and hard to live with.  She experienced severe diarrhea, nausea, loss of appetite, weight loss, tingling in her extremities, mouth sores, “chemo brain”, and toward the 9^th round, irregular heartbeat.  She kept a very detailed thorough list of her side effects by day, time and what she took or did, to help with that particular side effect.  Every doctor appointment, we would take the list with us so she could discuss it with her Oncologist.  It was rather frustrating as all the doctor would say was, “typical people don’t respond that way”.  Obviously, Tami was not your typical patient on chemotherapy, yet this doctor refused to think outside of the box or offer any kind of relief from the side effects. 

Tami would listen to relaxation CDs during the infusion.  She would read through her devotional books.  She would work on her journals and grateful lists.  She tried to make the best of a horrible experience for her.  I tried to go as many times as I could to make sure the right doses of pre-meds were given, as well as the right doses of the chemo drugs.  Mistakes can be, and were, made.  She was always so grateful to have someone (me, her parents, her sister, her daughter) with her to help her advocate and also remember things she is told. 

She was truly a fighter, an inspirer, and a believer in faith and hope!!!

Unexpected Loss & Overwhelming Grief

Today's post is kinda out of order because I am jumping to today.  I will pick back up where I left off in the next post, but today I need to talk about Loss and Grief.  We all knew that the cancer was progressing quickly and that Tami would soon go home to be with the Lord.  From what the doctors were saying, we were all looking at February.  We thought we had at least three more months with her.  Friday, November 19, 2010 was not expected to be the day she breathed her last, according to the world of medicine.  I am learning that is the day God decided she had suffered enough and wanted to bring her home to paradise.  It is not how we would have wanted it.  We wanted our three months.  We wanted Thanksgiving and Christmas.  We wanted more days to spend with her.  But, God wanted different.  Why did He want that day?  Why did she have to get sick at all?  Hadn't she suffered enough in this life?  It is so easy to get caught up in the unfairness of it all and become angry. Angry at God for allowing her to become ill.  Angry at doctors for being incompetent.  Angry at circumstances, because if there is only enough money, you can access the best care and treatment possible.  And finally, angry at God again for taking her out of this world.

I remember the weaker Tami got, she would ask me what was happening to her...why she could barely stand and hold her own weight.  We talked about her body not getting enough nutrition to function and organs shutting down.  By no means was it a fun conversation, but I think Tami knew early that week that it would be her last week.  She spent the rest of the week preparing each of us for what was about to happen.  I came home from work on the Wednesday and sat on her bed with her.  She looked so exhausted.  I grabbed her hand and told her if she was ready to let go and this is all too much for her, she could let go.  I told her we would all be ok, eventually and that she would be in my heart forever.  She said that I would be in hers and that she would be waiting for me.  I knew after that conversation that it would not be long.  I should have started to expect Friday, but didn't.  Friday was a bitter sweet day.  She was to suffer no more and spend eternity with her loving Lord, but we who are left behind must figure out how to go on each day with such a big hole in our lives.  That is the challenge.

I can't help at this point to look at back at Tami's incredible journey and how she faced each difficult day before her with hope, faith, trust, belief, and peace.  Our challenge is to face each day without her with the same hope, faith, trust, belief and peace she did.  Hope that things will turn out for the good for those who love Christ Jesus.  Faith in a sovereign loving God who knows us by name and knows how our story plays out and ends.  To Trust in the Lord with all of our hearts and lean not on our own understanding, but in ALL of our ways acknowledge HIM, and he WILL make our path straight.  Belief that God will keep his promises to us, to be our comfort, our guide, our shelter, our deliver, our rock.  And finally that we would allow, as Tami did, the Peace that passes all understanding to guard our hearts and our minds...that we would rest, be still and know that He is GOD!!!  That we won't get angry, we won't hold grudges, we won't be unforgiving, but follow in her incredible footsteps and be forgiving and let go of the anger.  This doesn't mean there won't be moments of sadness, moments of anger, moments of overwhelming loss and grief, but in those moments, if we do as Tami did, and give ourselves to our loving, faithful, comforting Father, He will meet us in our time of need.  "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine".


"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love". --Washington Irving

Ahhh…There’s No Place Like Home

After being away from home for about a week, we all love that coming home feeling.  After being in the hospital for about a week or so, Tami was beyond excited to be coming home, especially to her own bed.  Tami and I moved to the apartments at Portola Place in February 2008.  It was in a beautiful community on the outskirts of Irvine, near the foothills.  There was always a beautiful view across OC and out to Catalina on a clear day.  On a cold winter day after the rain, you might catch a glimpse of snow on Saddleback Mountain as well.  She loved listening to the birds and the coyotes.  She loved to sit on the patio/balcony reading her paper, drinking her coffee, while the sun delivered some much needed Vitamin D.  She loved to take walks around the community.  It was almost a daily occurrence.  While on our walks, we would always be amused by the flocks of birds and their behavior.  For those of you who are Pixar Shorts fans, remember For the Birds?  Well, on one of our walks, a flock of birds were sitting on the electrical wires and we just watched.  It was cracking us up as birds would jockey for position and jump from one wire to another.  If only we knew what they were thinking.  That same evening, the whole flock left the wire at once, buzzed our heads and landed in the Eucalyptus trees a couple blocks away.  Every evening after that we looked for those birds.  We’d catch a beautiful rainbow every now and then.  She took tons of sunset pictures off of our balcony.  The walls were covered with her incredible photographs.  

To her, our home was peaceful, welcoming, warm, loving, and a reflection of who we were.  It was so nice that we actually had the same taste in colors, furniture, accents, etc.  She enjoyed picking out everything from the dining room table, to rugs, to picture frames.  Sometimes she was like a kid in the candy store, but one thing is for sure, we created an environment we both wanted to come home to.  Home is where you are accepted and loved for who you are, not who should be.  Home is where you can let down your guard and be vulnerable and emotional.  Home is where you are safe.  Home is where you create heartfelt, lifelong memories with family and friends, like Tuesday night dinner's with the kids.  Home is where your heart is and longs to be.  I am so thankful that our Home was all she wanted it to be…even to the point of breathing her last there.

Removing the Cancer

Well, the surgeon came to talk to Tami in the ER that night and explained how he was going to do the surgery and that he had done this kind of surgery many, many times before.  She questioned how they know it is cancer without any further testing, or proof.  He responded to her, “if it looks like a duck, talks like a duck, walks likes a duck, it’s a duck.”  He pulled out his I-phone and showed her a video of himself doing the surgery he would be doing on her.  Personally, I thought that was kind of arrogant and bad timing.  He decided to do the surgery laparoscopically as the scans did not show any evidence of further spread at this time.  She was admitted to the hospital for what would be the first of many hated hospital stays.  She was given a room in an overflow wing of the Kaiser facility in Irvine as the hospital was full.  Her room was weird, no couch, or bed for guests….no private bathroom, just a toilet thing in the back of the room.  I know she didn’t want to be there alone and it was hard to go home each night…but she once again showed her strength and courage.

The first order of business was to prep for a colonoscopy so they could get a closer look at the tumor and take a biopsy.  As she was already having difficulty with her bowels, this task was sure to be painful and daunting.  The morning of surgery came, and she was so strong and courageous.  Ashley was there with us and was able to go with her mom to the prep room.  It was a long anxious morning for those of us waiting for her to come out of surgery.  The doctor came out and said the surgery went well.  He talked about the tumor – its size, location, and that it had broken the muscle wall, BUT he insisted he GOT IT ALL.  He was able to remove the part of the colon that needed to be removed and re-attach it so she would not need a colostomy bag.  We were all thrilled and relieved.  There were lymph nodes involved, so this meant meeting with an Oncologist and discussing treatment options, most likely chemotherapy.  Had we known then what “breaking through the muscle wall” meant, we would have asked more questions and challenged the surgeon more.  The fact that that tumor had broken through the muscle wall was not such a good thing.  We found out later through much of our own research that there could have been a chance the cancer seeded her abdomen.  The surgeon did not talk to us about that.  He just acted as if he got everything and chemo was just a precaution.  We did know that Tami would be very excited about not waking up to a colostomy bag.  It was her worst nightmare, well besides being diagnosed with cancer.  

You Are Not Alone

What began as a normal week in February of 2009, quickly became the most shocking, devastating, heartbreaking week of our 10-year friendship.  Tami had been feeling quite ill and experiencing a tremendous amount of abdominal pain.  We went to Kaiser’s Urgent Care and they treated her for constipation and sent her home to drink some icky tasting stuff, the first of many, many more.  She followed the doctor’s orders, but it only brought about more cramping and pain, with no results.  The next night we ended up at the Kaiser ER, where they continued to treat her for constipation and sent her home.  I came home the next day from work and she was laying on the bathroom floor in excruciating pain.  I got her to the car and took her back to the ER.  This time, after explaining the last 3 days, the doctor decided to do a CT Scan.  While waiting for the scan and results, the doctor gave her Morphine…she had found a new best friend :-)

Several hours later, the ER doctor came back to the room and said that she had a tumor about 2.7 cm big surrounding her colon and that it was most likely cancer.  The surgeon would be coming to talk to her and she would be admitted to the hospital.  We looked at each other with this look of disbelief on our faces.  I can only imagine what she was thinking and feeling, as my heart just broke for her.  All I could think was, “After all she has been through in this life, cancer too.”  With each heartbreaking phone call made to her parents and her kids, I began to weep.  I grabbed her hand and told her that whatever was to come, however hard it might be, she would not be alone.  I would be there every step of the way. 

This reminds me of the story of Ruth and Naomi in the book of Ruth.  They portrayed beautiful examples of loyalty, friendship and commitment to each other and to God.  Naomi told her daughters-in-law to return to their mother’s house as there was nothing more she could offer them and they had been through enough with her.  Ruth clung to Naomi and refused to go.  Ruth said, “Entreat me not to leave you, or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.  Where you die, I will die, and there will I be buried.  The Lord do so to me, and more also, if anything but death parts you and me.”  In his book On the Anvil, Max Lucado writes, “Happy are those who have one companion, one relationship that is not based on looks or performance.  Every person is in need of at least one faithful friend, who will look her in the eyes and say, ‘I will never leave you.  The years may be cruel and the times may be hard, but I’ll be here.  I will never leave you’.”  I know in my heart, that if the roles were reversed, and I was the one with cancer, my best friend would have done the same for me.  Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to be a “Ruth” to Tami, it has forever changed my life.

On Being a Servant of God

This was the first book Tami gave to me when I started working at Calvary as a leader in Ministry.  It is a fabulous book written by Warren Wiersbe.  After reading this book and working alongside of Tami, I began to understand her close intimate relationship with the Lord and why she so freely gave grace, mercy, forgiveness and love to all.  The premise of the book is that “Ministry happens when divine resources meet human needs through loving channels to the glory of God.”  Tami did just that at church, in ministry, in leadership, at home, with her kids, with her friends and family, etc. 

She truly believed, and lived, that we are channels of God’s grace, love, forgiveness and mercy to others.  She was never too busy to pray with someone in need.  She was never too busy to write/send notes of thanks and encouragement to others.  She was never too busy to meet a need that was brought to her attention, no matter how big or small.  She lived a life of compassion, integrity, honesty, forgiveness, mercy, grace and unconditional love.

These are things people who served with her had to say about her:

Dearest Tami, it has been such a joy and privilege to work under you!  We have grown to admire, respect and love you dearly!  You such a wonderful encourager, that we felt a real sense of value on your team.  Thank you – We are so grateful for this time with you and our array of kids in A101!.

Dear Tami, thank you for all you are and all you do because of Jesus.  You are so encouraging.

Dear Tami, I consider it such a privilege and a blessing to work with you.  Thank you for your sweet, patient way of serving.  Thank you for all the support and encouragement you give.  Thank you, too, for your gift!

Dear Tami, words could never express the appreciation I have for all you have done for me.  The care packages, food, visits and calls were the most generous display of love I have ever received.  I feel honored to have you as a friend and thank God that he has brought you into my life.  What a true friend you are and such an inspiration to me and my family. 

These are just a few of over 100 cards/notes she was given expressing people’s gratitude for her, her example, her care and her love.  Even in the midst of her own pain, suffering, and illness, she continued to reach out to others and be there for her volunteers.  With a chemo pump attached to her, she showed up on Sunday mornings and did special events such as Light the Night…On Being a Servant of God…just look at her life.  I am convinced that as she entered paradise, she was welcomed with open arms and the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Girls Just Want To Have Fun!!!

Vegas. Crepes. Massages. San Diego. Hot Fudge Sundaes. San Francisco. Ghirardelli. Sunsets. Waves. Sea Gulls. Outlets. Starbucks. Chocolate Martini's. Monterey. Hwy 1. Lake Tahoe. Auburn. Florida. Disney World. Disneyland. Soarin' Over California. Tower of Terror. California Screaming. Holiday Parties with Mickey. Cruise to Mexico. Day trips to Malibu, Pasadena, Huntington Library, Beverly Hills, Santa Barbara. The Getty Museum. The Villa Getty in Malibu. Napa. Mendocino. Caspar Beach. Palm Springs. Palm Desert. Celine. Elton. Mama Mia. Phantom. Women of Faith. Angel's Games. Walks around the lake. Movies. Walking the dogs. Drives along the coast. Dinner on the beach at sunset. Fashion Island. Utah. Photography. Laughing til we cried. 

"The Lone Ranger and Tonto; Laurel and Hardy; Batman and Robin; it was Snoopy and Charlie. Friends through thick and thin. Friends to the very end, I think you would agree that's how it is with you and me. I want you to know I need you. I want you to know it's true. There's no, no, no, no way I would make it without you. It's so good to know, I've got a friend like you. Through all of the laughter and tears. Through all of the questions and fears. Through all of the winning, losing and trying...I will be by your side, cause you and I are friends for life." - Friend Like You by Geoff Moore.

Have fun, we most certainly did!

Unexpected Friends

Tami and I met 12.5 years ago when I started working at Calvary Church, where she worked.  Although 15 years separated us, we quickly developed a kinship, a sisterhood...the kind of friendship that touches the depths of your soul.  We openly shared our hurts and our struggles and we found in the friendship we shared the kind of grace, hope, belief and unconditional love that only God could provide.  She was struggling with an abusive marriage and I was struggling to find myself and an intimate relationship with my Lord and Savior.  We both struggled with self-worth and self-esteem, yet found meaning and purpose in our friendship and common search for intimacy with the Lord.

Over the course of our friendship we learned the true meaning of joy and happiness, and it had little to do with money, status, position and prestige.  We found it in travel, photography, honesty, acceptance, reaching out to others, supporting each other's hopes and dreams, etc.  With a camera in hand, she captured the beauty of nature in ways most of us miss.  There were times of laughter and tears, joy and sadness, fear and victory, and many wonderful memories made that will be cherished always.  We might have been unexpected friends in the world's eyes, but we were not unexpected friends in God's eyes.  He brought the two of us together for such a time as this...and so begins The Ultimate Journey.