Thurs, 26 Jan 2006
My Dear Friends,
Went to the funeral home last night instead of Tuesday. They said a rosary. I don't think the priest knew Susan's name because he kept referring to her as "this woman"... like "Forgive this woman her sins" etc.
I sat in a comfortable chair on the edge of the room, halfway back. You don't want to overexaggerate your importance by sitting too close to the front. The front row was her husband and two grown sons, an empty row, then everyone else.
A couple of women were gabbing loudly well into the Apostle's Creed, oblivious that the rosary had started. Others tried to get their attention several times before the women looked around and realized they should shut up.
After that, the only sound was the clinking of rosary beads between prayers. One of the benefits of organized religion is the sense of community. Prayer seems more powerful when forty people are saying the same thing.
My chair was facing the opposite side of the room, not the front. It was a ready excuse not to stare at the coffin. I kept looking up at the ceiling, with its standard white tiles with all the little holes in them. The ceiling was not flat, but more like an accordion. Down and up, down and up. Seemed ready to fold. Another reminder of how precariously my own life is perched.
Her husband had been very glad to see me when I arrived. Gave me a big hug and thanked me profusely. Poor guy. They would've been married 30 years this summer. Talked to him briefly after the rosary. He said the things we all say... she's better off, her last few days were hard...
He's a big guy but I scolded him because he looked a lot thinner. That's the Polish in me... Are you eating?
I'm glad I went, I guess. They did have pictures of her in the room, so I saw her when she was well. She was beautiful. Died at 52.
Quite the reality check. When I got home, I hugged my babies an extra long time.
*************** *************** ************* ************** **************
OK, enough of that mournful stuff. People have been asking how I'm doing lately.
This week, I am continuing the physical therapy. The therapist, I'll call him J., says he already sees improvement in my strength. That was good to hear.
Haven't heard the results of the heart test yet.
Felt tired this week but not as nauseous. Had a little food trouble this past weekend. Ate a hotdog with Hormel chili and the spices in the chili burned in my throat. (Dad, I do not eat chili dogs every day. Life is short, no ragging.) Anyway, when I was in chemo in 2003, I could not even eat ketchup! Chemo kills fast-growing cells, including those in your mouth. Makes certain foods burn. Ketchup is still OK this time.
Knock on wood, I still have a full head of hair. (Watch it fall out tomorrow because I said something!)
That's about it. Thank you for your continued prayers.
Love,
Jeanette
Went to the funeral home last night instead of Tuesday. They said a rosary. I don't think the priest knew Susan's name because he kept referring to her as "this woman"... like "Forgive this woman her sins" etc.
I sat in a comfortable chair on the edge of the room, halfway back. You don't want to overexaggerate your importance by sitting too close to the front. The front row was her husband and two grown sons, an empty row, then everyone else.
A couple of women were gabbing loudly well into the Apostle's Creed, oblivious that the rosary had started. Others tried to get their attention several times before the women looked around and realized they should shut up.
After that, the only sound was the clinking of rosary beads between prayers. One of the benefits of organized religion is the sense of community. Prayer seems more powerful when forty people are saying the same thing.
My chair was facing the opposite side of the room, not the front. It was a ready excuse not to stare at the coffin. I kept looking up at the ceiling, with its standard white tiles with all the little holes in them. The ceiling was not flat, but more like an accordion. Down and up, down and up. Seemed ready to fold. Another reminder of how precariously my own life is perched.
Her husband had been very glad to see me when I arrived. Gave me a big hug and thanked me profusely. Poor guy. They would've been married 30 years this summer. Talked to him briefly after the rosary. He said the things we all say... she's better off, her last few days were hard...
He's a big guy but I scolded him because he looked a lot thinner. That's the Polish in me... Are you eating?
I'm glad I went, I guess. They did have pictures of her in the room, so I saw her when she was well. She was beautiful. Died at 52.
Quite the reality check. When I got home, I hugged my babies an extra long time.
*************** *************** ************* ************** **************
OK, enough of that mournful stuff. People have been asking how I'm doing lately.
This week, I am continuing the physical therapy. The therapist, I'll call him J., says he already sees improvement in my strength. That was good to hear.
Haven't heard the results of the heart test yet.
Felt tired this week but not as nauseous. Had a little food trouble this past weekend. Ate a hotdog with Hormel chili and the spices in the chili burned in my throat. (Dad, I do not eat chili dogs every day. Life is short, no ragging.) Anyway, when I was in chemo in 2003, I could not even eat ketchup! Chemo kills fast-growing cells, including those in your mouth. Makes certain foods burn. Ketchup is still OK this time.
Knock on wood, I still have a full head of hair. (Watch it fall out tomorrow because I said something!)
That's about it. Thank you for your continued prayers.
Love,
Jeanette
posted by Mark Kappe @ 5:32 AM
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