You Can Endure Anything When You Know It's Temporary

In January of 2003 I made my first official move after college to California with a friend. I had a job lined up that would start the first of March and hers started right away. That left me working a temporary job, sitting in front of a computer 8 hours a day in a warehouse. I was miserable. I called my Mom often to tell her I just could do it any more and she'd talk me off the "quit Your Job" ledge. Finally one day, probably exasperated by my complaining and lack of gratitude, yet as always, being my biggest cheerleader said, "You can endure anything when you know it's temporary!" That has been my mantra many times in my life when things haven't turned out the way I wanted.  I say it to myself (often) when I'm working out or hiking carrying two backpacks. To me the saying is full of hope, optimism, strength and confidence.

When I moved home at the beginning of September I would spend every evening with my Mom. We'd sit in her bed after the grandkids had gone to sleep and watch a show together (or a few). I'd leave around 10 or 10:30 (well past my normal bed time). Mom would walk me out to the steps of the front porch; after a hug and kiss goodnight I'd walk to my car, start it up, pull a u-turn and stop to wave goodbye to my Mom.  She would patiently wait every night and wave, and wave, and wave goodbye as I drove away.  I distinctly remember one night saying out loud to myself, "One day she won't be able to do that."

Tonight for the second time in a row, I had the privilege of tucking my Mom into bed. We tuck her feet

into the quilt that lays at the bottom of her bed, she lays on her side and I cover her with a warm fuzzy blanket.  I lean down, hug her tight, try to hold back the tears that are always so close to the surface, whisper in her ear to sleep well and tell her how much I love her, then kiss her cheek and forehead.  With the flip of a switch her bedroom is dark, and I slip out. All the way home I pray for angels to be with her, to protect her if she gets out of bed. I plead for her pain to be eased. I petition for a Christmas miracle that she'll gain her strength and be able to enjoy the family events this weekend we are all looking forward to. And I ponder the purpose behind Mom being asked to endure so much pain, Why after a life of being aquatinted with constant physical pain and ailments is she being asked to suffer so much more. And then I hear my Mom's voice on the phone, "You can endure anything when you know its temporary."

In one quick moment I pray it's temporary for her. And I think of the words in this song, that have echoed in my heart for months now,

The Robe

(Jenny Phillips/Tyler Castleton)

Faithful women reached through the crowd
And her hands gently touched Your robe
And You through Your grace made her whole
And now my broken body is fading fast
And like her I’m searching through the crowds
Desperate to find You somehow

And I’m reaching for that robe
I know that You can make me whole
But if its not meant to be that way
If I can’t stay
Then just wrap me in that robe and hold me when I go

If You call me home to You
Please help those who love me understand
We are still held together by Your hands

I’m reaching for that robe
I know that You can make me whole
But maybe in a different way
If I can’t stay
Then just wrap me in that robe, and hold me when I go

Hold her when she goes
Hold her when she goes

Right now we take turns wraaping Mom up in our arms and holding her; enduring this temporary painful time together. I am grateful to know that her suffering is temporary. Grateful to know that one day she will be dancing and singing and teaching pain free on the other side of the vail. And most grateful to know that we are and always will be held together by His hands.  When the time comes, our physical separation is only temporary, and I can endure anything when I know it's temporary. What keeps me going is knowing that she is being wrapped in our Savior's Robe constantly.

Update on Mom: If you've read this far, you can probably tell that this week has not been a good one. Monday afternoon Mom's pain skyrocketed.  She describes it as an internal pain around her rib cage. She feels it is different than a pulled muscle that she experience a few months ago. We do know there are spots of cancer in her bones of her rib cage. I would love if this was just a pulled muscle because that means the pain will subside...  Mom is on a heavy dose of pain meds all the time right now to try to get the pain under control and managed. This means Mom is not always fully with us  and isn't able to get around on her own. We ask that you join with us in prayer for her pain to was up a bit. Send your positive thoughts and blessings her way if you have some to spare!

Bed Time Stories

From the time I can remember my Mom read to us at night.  Dad worked nights, so she'd get us all ready for bed and in our rooms, hoping we'd go to sleep. She'd sit in the hallway; our bedroom doors open and bring to life the tales of....The Little House on the Prairie, Indian in the Cupboard, Frog and Toad, The Sideway Stories from Wayside School, Ramona the Pest, Mouse and the Motor Cycle

To be honest I couldn't recite to you the list of books, or the general story line of most of those books.  I fall asleep REALLY easily and I was young.  What I do remember is listening to my Mom's voice as I fell asleep and that my Mom faithfully spent the time to read to us.

To say reading was important in our home would be an understatement. We had a great library of books.  Reading is how we expand our minds and imaginations. My Dad was constantly reading; Louis L'Amour books being his favorite. Mom is still constantly reading; murder mysteries being her favorite. She is also constantly reading books that expand her knowledge about the gospel. Plus I'm  sure I inherited her love of non-fiction, self improvement books. In fact the other night my mom handed me her small kindle and listed a bunch of books on there she thought I'd really like and would help me right now.

Pretty much every night my little niece runs into Grandma's room, grabs a book and climbs up on the bed asking for a bedtime story. Grandma is always up for a bedtime story.  It's one of the cutest things ever. I grieve over the fact that that my kids won't ever get to hear my Mom read bedtime stories.


Just the other night, before I left my Mom's house, she read me a bedtime story.  It was a story about Noah, God's love and a cradle in the form of an Ark. It's a story of God's heart breaking for us, and his tears flooding the earth. It's a story of God's arms wide open in His uncontainable, unending, unconditional, unbeatable, unfailing, unwrappable love.

"God sees our tears now. And the hurt flooding our world right now. And He offers everyone the greatest gift- a rescue, a wooden cradle, a wooden cross- and He whispers, "Come to Jesus." Noah and his family were saved by the ark. You and the whole family on this earth are saved by Jesus alone

Some horrible, awful, miserable, very bad days, you may look around and say, "If there is a God who really cares, He'd look at our world and His heart would break.

And God looks to Jesus, who went to the cross, that real tree, and says, "Look- My heart did break."

So when those floods of bad things happen, if you lean toward Jesus- if you incline toward Jesus, if you rest in Jesus- you get the Gift of Jesus, like an ark of love, holding you, carrying you, raising you gently up through any flood of sadness that fills the world."

As always, Mom with every word, every moment, every deed points me to the One who can heal and comfort me and you.

Update on Mom: For the past little while we have been draining Mom's lung twice a week. However, that has changed. We are now draining somewhere between 300 and 400 ml every two days.  That's a big increase.  The pain from this fluid build up is heightened by the lymphedema Mom experiences from her mastectomy back in 2008.  Thankfully she does receive some relief right after the drain occurs.  Mom is more tired these days too.

Living Legend

Mom's bishop has decided that one way to honor the older members of the ward is to share stories from their lives with others, so that all can benefit. He's calling it the Living Legends. A week or so ago, a sister in the ward came and visited with Mom for awhile. Mom thoroughly enjoyed the visit. When I walked up to the house today I found the Living Legends newsletter on the door.  It is being handed out to all the families in the ward. Here are two experiences, written by this sister, Mom shared with her from her life.

Favorite holiday memory:
When Janis was a Junior in High School, her family moved from Utah to Southern California. Her father had moved the family there to start a new job. The job fell through and the family struggled as he sought alternate employment. Since they moved in October money was still a problem as Christmas neared. Janis had two sisters near her age and one sister who is much younger. The parents decided and the three older sisters agreed to severely curtail their Christmas so that the youngest girl could have a nicer one. Each of the older girls go one piece of material, one record album, and a lipstick {these three things so typify my mom, and her family}. The parents got no gift.

It was a little grim with no snow and no friends, but the family gathered as it was their tradition to sing Christmas songs and carols around the piano. They were singing "White Christmas," when the doorbell rang and someone shouted "Merry Christmas, Carters." When they opened the door there were sacks of food on their porch. All the makings of a grand Christmas Feast and much more to fill the pantry for some time. It completely surprised and humbled them as they had never before been on the receiving end of such loving service.

It remains today, Janis' favorite holiday memory. Her father was soon employed and the family comfortable again. But from that day to this, her family has gathered around the piano to sing "White Christmas" and give thanks for their blessings and to reaffirm their intention to be totally generous to others at Christmas time. {This is a well known story among our family.  There has never been a family Christmas party where this song has not been sung, ususally through a flood of tears. Consequently, some of MY most favorite Christmas memories involve buying Christmas gifts for families in need and leaving in the front porch and running away as quick as we could after ringing the doorbell.  My Mom has continued to live the intention to be totally generous to others at Christmas time.}

This video is dark and old... 1992.  And it is great to watch! Mom is on the piano, and the "little" sister from the story is the one holding the baby in the video

A difficult challenge:

Mom's School Board Picture

One difficult challenge Janis faced was when she ran for public office and won. The loyal opposition quickly started a campaign of misinformation and intimidation to force Janis to vote for their agenda. When she did not do so, the attacks intensified. She was frequently questioned, even harassed in public. It became difficult to leave the house. She spent a lot of time reviewing her beliefs and motives; she shed tears; then she decided to continue to act with integrity. One Sunday as she sat in church singing the song "Reverently and Meekly Now," she was profoundly drawn to the words in the beginning of verse three. They resonated with her and she knew moving forward was possible.
     
       "Bid thine heart all strife to cease,
         With they brethren be at peace.
         Oh forgive as thou wouldst be
         E'en forgiven now by me."  - Joseph Townsend

Mom shared this story with me for the first time this fall as the presidential election was going strong. I am continually blessed by the stories and lessons from her life my Mom shares with me. She is definitely a Living Legend!

Update on Mom: Mom's pain was through the roof early this past week. We think in part because of the permanent tube in her lung moved unexpectedly.  Her lung cells continue to leak fluid and fill the pleura cavity with increased frequency.  We are still draining twice a week, but the amount of fluid has increased with each drain. We never know how each day will be as far as pain, discomfort and breathing ability.  As many of you have commented... Mom always looks good in the pictures we post.  She is a brave, strong women who has dealt with pain her entire life and is very good at hiding the pain and discomfort. She reads the blog and comments you all make, so if you feel inclined, leave her some encouragement and love.
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The Hidden Forces Of Life

My mom has always been an amazing writer, though she would never admit that.  Whether it is roadshows, song lyrics, stories or poems, my mom has a great imagination and a way with words.

I have great memories of her writing.....
Several years in a row, she was on the roadshow writing committee for our church congregation.  These were full blown 18 minute musicals with plots, costume and scene changes - and of course original lyrics!  After winning several years in a row (I believe that was the case), several new "rules" were put into place.  My mom thoughts these rules were unnecessary and just plain dumb.  So -- she wrote a whole roadshow about how dumb the rules were.  And she won.  Of course she did.  One of my favorite songs - sung to The Toreador Song, from Carmen by Bizet has the lyrics:

"We have the job of making up the rules.
We do it well.  They are such jewels.
We do just as the king has asked us to,
Though we are humble and few."

As a young third grader, we had to write a fable for class.  I have a very vivid memory of sitting out in the front yard with my mom lamenting the fact that I couldn't come up with ANYTHING to write.  I had no idea how to write or what to write about.  On the spot my mom made up this amazing fable about why the trees lose their leaves every year.  It had something to do with a negotiation between the grass, flowers and the trees for time in the sun while it wasn't hot enough to burn them. It was beautiful!  I quickly went inside and wrote down my version of the story, as close to what I could remember from my mom as possible.  I don't remember all of it -- but I do remember that I won a writing award for the fable!  A red ribbon! I'm sure it is still in a box somewhere.

In college, I called her many times looking for help with papers, with rhyming poetry, or for ideas about stories.  And she never disappoints. Ever. 

As a grandma, she is known for the great stories she tells and for the amazing adventures she spins about her own grandchildren.  She has journals and writings about all sorts of things from her life.  This is a talent she has passed down to all of us in some form or another.  Whether it is academia, pleasure writing, or song lyrics - each of us has benefits in some way from mom's writing talent.

Just a few months ago, while cleaning out some old boxes, she shared with me a poem she wrote in 2010.  She had a book that had a writing different writing challenge in it for every day of the year.  The challenge for this day was a poem.  Here it is. 

The Hidden Forces of Life

Come home - this place is not for you

To settle in and feel content.

Come home - this space is not your own

It's just a temporary rent.

Come home.

Feel this pain? It's just for you

while you are in this earthly sphere

To teach you to want sweet relief

In arms of angels always near.

Come home.

See the plants all dried and bent?

And brown dead grass upon the ground?

Do you not long for all to live

Beyond this grave to which you're bound?

Come home.

To life and love and flowers sweet

Come home to family, friends and more

Come home to find your heavenly place

Come home to all you've know before.

Come home.

-- Janis Smith, Written May 5, 2010

I find great peace in this beautiful poem.  My mom has always been a great source of spiritual strength in my life.  I am confident in the reality of life after death and the arms of angels waiting for us on the other side as we go home.  When my dad was dying, I read and studied much about death and the after life.  One of my most favorite and comforting passage comes from President Russell M. Nelson in a talk titled "The Doors of Death".  He says:

"Life does not begin with birth, nor does it end with death. Prior to our birth, we dwelled as spirit children with our Father in Heaven. There we eagerly anticipated the possibility of coming to earth and obtaining a physical body. Knowingly we wanted the risks of mortality, which would allow the exercise of agency and accountability. “This life [was to become] a probationary state; a time to prepare to meet God.” (Alma 12:24.) But we regarded the returning home as the best part of that long-awaited trip, just as we do now. Before embarking on any journey, we like to have some assurance of a round-trip ticket. Returning from earth to life in our heavenly home requires passage through—and not around—the doors of death. We were born to die, and we die to live. (See 2 Cor. 6:9.) As seedlings of God, we barely blossom on earth; we fully flower in heaven."

It has been an up and down week for mom.  Her dad came to visit for Thanksgiving and we had a great few days... more to come on that.  With that came a lot of activity and movement, which can be painful for my mom.  She doesn't breathe well and can't hold her breath at all.  Something I totally take for granted.  You hold your breath for a few seconds all day long!!!  I never noticed that until this came up.... when you wash your hair, brush your teeth, cry or talk.  All of those things are difficult for her because she can't breathe well.  Her lung keeps taking on more fluid though we drain it regularly. She's looking forward to some down time this week before we pack her up to see The Nutcracker on Saturday.

Thank you for your continued well wishes and prayers.  I know I feel their strength.

Amy

What advice would you want?

Ever since I found out about my mom's situation, I've been asking her for advice she wants to leave behind like:

• you are better than no one
• read as much as you can - all the time

So what kinds of questions or advice would you want from your mom?  I'm running out of questions to ask her.

Hospice Care

Fall is one of my mom's favorite times of year.  Actually, my mom loves every time of year except summer.  Summer is too darn hot!

I love fall as well.  I love all things nature and plants.  I think I get that from both my mom and my dad.  I wish I could grow things like my mom can.  My mom has an amazingly green thumb.  She grows plants, flowers, gardens, trees, vegetables, and everything else.  I can't even keep my Aloe Vera plant alive, seriously! But - I keep trying and keep buying plants thinking that one day, I'll be able to make it work.

Back to fall.  I believe there is a deeper meaning to the seasons.  The prophet Alma teaches us:  "All things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator."  The planets moving -- the seasons -- denote that there is a God and witness of a Supreme Creator.  Each season has amazing things to teach us. After working all year to grow things and make the world beautiful, autumn teaches us that there is also beauty in letting things go, in letting things run their course and even in death.  Fall teaches and testifies in our Supreme Creator and shows us the beauty of death.

This week we began hospice care for my mom.  After a few months of testing, waiting, and testing again, we have begun the next phase of this process.  Mom had a lung catheter put in last Monday and began hospice care on Tuesday.  The catheter allows us to drain the fluid off of her lung at will.  This will help us keep her more comfortable and allow for better breathing.  She has had a rough time recovering from the procedure.  It is incredibly painful and has limited her movement and her strength.  We are hoping some solid rest and recovery will help relieve some of her discomfort.

Tonight we walked outside to view the super moon.  "It is so beautiful!" was her comment.  All things denote there is a God.  I'm so grateful to my mom for living that and teaching me that.

A Brief History

In May 2008, my mom was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  She had a radical mastectomy, where they also took all the lymph nodes, endured 2 rounds of chemotherapy, and by the end of that year was as close to cancer free as you can be after a cancer battle.  I hate cancer.

Cancer was rough on my mom, who has struggled with Multiple Sclerosis from age 26 and severe arthritis.  Removing the lymph nodes caused severe lymphedema and some circulation problems in her right arm.  But, in true survivor fashion, she moved on with her life enduring her pain suffering well.

According to cancer.net, it is estimated that 40,890 people die from breast cancer each year, 40,450 women and 440 men.  If you are diagnosed with cancer only in the breast, the 5-year survival rate is 99%.  If the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes, the 5-year survival rate is 85%.  If the cancer has metastasized when they find it initially, the 5-year survival rate is only 26%.

May 2016 mom celebrated 8 years being cancer free.  It was also that month that she started to experience some severe pain.

The pain began in her spine and moved forward around her rib cage and abdomen.  It was intense.  It would come for a few days at a time and then subside.  After some research, she determined it was the "MS Hug", a fairly common symptom of Multiple Sclerosis.  Over the next 6 weeks the pain increased in frequency and duration.  Finally, on July 5, mom went to the ER.  The initial testing showed several small nodules in both lungs.  From there, the testing began.

After weeks of appointments with multiple doctors and a variety of testing the final diagnosis is Metastatic Breast Cancer (meaning it migrated to another area of the body) in the bones and the lungs.  The survival rates for Metastatic Breast Cancer are grim.  Most of the time, less than a  year.  Mom has chosen, at this time, to not pursue treatment.

She posted this on her Facebook Page on August 7:

Life is on my mind tonight. For me, July has been the month from hell. From the 1st of July to the 3rd of August there have been tests and doctor visits and the ER room and meds and pain and now I have found out that the cancer has come back in my bones and probably in the lungs as well. There is no cure for metastatic cancer; only managing the effects. I have decided not to do any further treatment. I have no idea how much longer I will survive. If it's lung cancer, the doctor said 3-6 months. If it's bone cancer 1-3 years. We will repeat the tests in 2 months to see which one is growing the fastest. I am praying it is not lung cancer. But I have developed a wheeze and a constant cough and I can't breathe very well sometimes. We'll see. 

I am writing this on Facebook rather than sending hundreds of emails to everyone. I hope you understand. 

To all of you who have been a part of the amazing life I have had here, thank you. You all have added to my experience and education while I have been here. I have had an amazing life and I am very grateful for every experience I've had..every single one. 

My girls are going to put a blog together where status updates will be given. We did this with David and it turned into a great memorial to him and a place my children go to remember and think of him. When I get that address, I will post it.
Again, thank you.
I love you all.
Janis

When my dad was diagnosed with cancer in 2011, we created a blog to be able to share his battle with our family and friends.  You can read about it here.  It was great to share my dad's progress and to hear from so many people who had touched my dad's life.

This blog has a slightly different purpose.  Our goal in starting this blog is to provide a place where we can record notes and stitches about my mom.  Notes in the form of music, letters, reminders, stories, recipes, etc.  And stitches in the form of fabric, quilts, and sewing, but also in the form of stitching your life back up, and moving forward.  Because that is who my mom is.

I love you, mom.

Amy