SIMPLY~ BEAUTIFULLY SAID.

Sent by J C R | 7:30 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Wow... Very poignant. So grateful for you to share HIM with us.

Sent by Lisa | 7:38 AM ET | 07-14-2008

re Laurie's notes: there are no balms - no platitudes - for this one. I can only feel the pain of your "wants" and wish I had the power to send a magic genie to grant all those wishes...

Sent by Nancy | 7:42 AM ET | 07-14-2008

My heart goes out to you. Love, thoughts and prayers.

Annette

Sent by Annette | 7:53 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,
I can empathize with you totally. I want my husband back. He was the backbone of the family and now he seems so distant most of the time, almost like an empty shell. I follow the blog on a daily basis and John's illness is progressing. He seems to be following the same pattern as Leroy. He was diagnosed with cancer a month before the Discovery "Living with cancer" program was televised. His cancer is very similar to Leroy's.........a primary cancer that has taken over his lungs, spine and other organs. He is now using a walker and we have oxygen in the house so that he won't have difficulty breathing. My home is starting to look like a hospital and if reality didn't set in before, it has now. I am fortunate enough to have a great support group.......my three grown children. Although I try to be strong I find it very difficult to get rid of the pain and push forward. I don't want my husband to die, but I also don't like seeing him suffer. He was a very strong independent man who is still hanging onto his pride which is quite difficult for him when he falls and needs help. I truly think that "Living with cancer" has to be worse than the inevitable. My family and I have been living in hell for the past two and a half years. We all try to smile and make life as normal as possible, but sometimes it just does not work. We have to accept the fact that we are coming close to the end and I need not tell you how sad it is.

You are in my prayers Laurie. Please keep writing your comments on the blog whenever you have time. Your words are very comforting.

God bless you, Leroy and the entire blog family.

Sent by sasha | 7:55 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie - you deserve to want. We want for both of you.

Sent by claire | 8:02 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy,

What a beautiful post, one that speaks so much about the beauty, gentleness and happiness of your relationship.

The fact that I have never personally met either of you and can picture everything you wrote speaks volumes of how we all think of you now - as dear friends.

Hang in there today - you're in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Amy in NJ | 8:05 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,
No matter how we cut it, or not say it. It is all so very, very sad.
Leroy took the best of life and enjoyed it to the fullest. While that is a wonderful thing, it is still very sad that Leroy can't do those things anymore. AND you miss him
Prayers,
Wanda Amorose

Sent by Wanda Amorose | 8:12 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, Bless your heart.

Sent by Brenda Rueffert | 8:17 AM ET | 07-14-2008

leroy and laurie - what to say. i weep. and pray. for both of you. your courage and willingness to share your lives with us continues to amaze me. God's peace to both of you.

Sent by Anita - Pittsburgh | 8:26 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear dear Leroy and Laurie,

My heart goes out to you during this most difficult time. I can truly appreciate your feelings and sentiments. With tears and prayers,

Sent by Sue Chap | 8:30 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I think everyone that has ever been touched by this truely horrible disease has said things to this effect. I will keep her and you in my thoughts and prayers. My dad has been gone for 17 years and there is not a day that goes by that I say I wish he could see something that is going on in my life. I know that he is looking on from above.

Sent by Kimberly Schmidt | 8:32 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Hold tightly to these memories!! Tuck them into your heart, nurture them, relive them even though they may be painful...they will keep you company always. Your words are eloquent! They capture for us the essence of the bond that binds you and Leroy together.

I would also respectfully submit that you and Leroy have built some very special memories over these past two very difficult years....in a totally different context but nevertheless just as important to treasure. In the face of cancer's onslaught, the depth of your love for one another, for your family and friends and strangers has been illuminated for all to see. It is a wonderful and inspiring picture! Treasure each moment. Tuck each into the memory bank.

The sadness, wistfulness, sorrow and wanting is evident in your words. We share your feelings but we won't presume to have the intensity that you feel.

I continue to tend the little flame of HOPE in my heart for you both. Prayers and blessings as always.

Sent by Al Cato | 8:41 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
In some ways I feel I have no right to say this, and I mean this to be helpful, not hurtful. What you're asking for is your former life back, but what you have is Leroy. The essence of all that is Leroy, stripped of the shirts and the Halloween costumes, and of everything except who he really is. His courage and his pain and his love for you shine through his blogs like a laser. There is also a sweetness to him as he tries to figure out his new confusing body. I wish for you both to gather some peace in this process of living and dying.

Sent by Nancy Forest | 8:42 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Leroy and Laurie,
Your post today brought tears and sadness, I am so sorry that both of you are having to go through this. Life is not fair and cancer sucks. I have lost too many friends and family to cancer and the sadness is still there. Everyday I wonder if my breast cancer will come back and I live with the side effects of the aggressive treatments I had. Still, I know I am one of the lucky ones.
My prayers and thoughts are with you both,

Lianne

Sent by Lianne Friedman | 8:43 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Leroy and Laurie,
As the posts have become more serious and reveal the pain of the live that you are now living, it becomes more difficult to send a response. After reading the posts, I just sit back and nod, understanding exactingly, sadly, but not completely.
We aren't at that point yet. It scares me to think ahead. I have those fearful thoughts about our future, but I remain hopeful that the news of my husbands NED status, may become a remission. HOPE.
My heart aches for you both. Thank you for being real. Enjoy your todays.
My thoughts and prayer remain with you.

Sent by Deb | 8:44 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie...

God bless you! My heart goes out to both of you. What a difficult road to travel...to stand by and watch cancer claim your loved one day by day, week by week and month by month in spite of all treatment and tender care by you, the caregiver, must be among the most painful of life experiences. My prayers are with you both for strength as you go forward...

Sent by Retha | 8:49 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,

I know.

You made me cry because I know those feelings. When my mom was sick, I would have given anything, everything, to have her as she was before the cancer.

Grieving is hard. I have no solution, no special incanation to make it better or easier to live with. It pains me to say it's just something you have to let go though you, because it makes no difference.

But this is what I will say. You both are so luckey to have each other. I hear the love in your words and that is powerful medicine. Take care of yourself so you are able to take care of him.

Sent by Teri Thomas | 8:49 AM ET | 07-14-2008

When I lived alone, the bed was very roomy. When my husband and I lived together, the bed was cozy. When our daughter came along, it became very tight (children under 10 are apparently programmed to sleep horizontally). When cancer came along, well, four in the bed meant we couldn't sleep much. And when death took him away, well, the bed changed again.

All I wanted was a good night's sleep together. Didn't realize that was too much to ask for. We get what we get -- but it's hard not to get upset.

Yet -- how lucky you are to have memories and the words to share them. If there are no guarantees that tomorrow will be any better than today -- if today is as good as it ever will get -- then today we must rejoice and share to the outmost edges of our abilities, with or without Hawaiian shirts and Mexican food.

I think I want more icing, please!

Sent by robin messing bogdanoff | 8:50 AM ET | 07-14-2008

This entry just left me so sad for you Laurie. I hate to hear your heart ache so, although how could it do anything else? A virtual hug for you and a great big sigh for what should be and isn't.

Sent by Robin L. | 8:59 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Oh, Laurie, boy do I relate. I had mini-meltdowns like that over my husband, Curt during the past 3 years, his last 3 years. And later, in has last days, when he was not conscious and very thin, and dying very fast, and all I had left of him was holding his foot while he slept and I read in his hospital room, well now I want that back, little though it was. He was still here.

I am feeling for you, big time.

Sent by Teri | 9:02 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie - I wrote almost the type of message when I was in your shoes. I longed for my husband back - I longed for what used to be. Cherish the now - cherish the moments you have - Leroy probably wants Leroy back too.

Sent by Deb from Michigan | 9:06 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, What wonderful and terrific memories you have; unfortunately, life is more than memories, life is the here and now. You are most likely hurting as much as Leroy is - the man you love and adore is suffering and although I am sure that the taking care goes along with the committment to the relationship, you are lonely for his strength and just being there for you also. Take care of you and I pray to G-d that you have support for YOU. And of course, much love to Leroy.
Jan

Sent by Janice Goldberg White | 9:06 AM ET | 07-14-2008

This one resonates with all your readers! We all have these losses.

Take time to look back at your former life together. Pour over your albums, videos, etc. together. Celebrate your good luck at meeting Leroy and your good sense at keeping him. Cry at the fortune and misfortune. It's healthy, I think!

I loved reading about what Leroy was like BC.

Sent by Liz L. | 9:11 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie

I know. Wake up each day and find something to say or do, some way to love him now, even while you are already grieving.

Love and prayers to you both.

Sent by Irene | 9:11 AM ET | 07-14-2008

The longing for what the cancer has taken from you - and all impacted by it - pours out of your words today Laurie.

Many in our community will have lovely, wonderful words to say today. All I can say is your words make me feel your pain and I am so so sorry.

Sent by Melissa T | 9:14 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Lori I here you. Trust me as much as you want him back in that manner i am sure he feels the same way. I am a stage IV CANCER surivior. As of now NED but i know what cancer has taken form me so for and i too would like my old world back. Stay Strong.

Sent by Karen Ball | 9:15 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I want my mom back too. Only difference is that she is actually gone. Cancer sucks!

Sent by MH | 9:17 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I hear ya Laurie. I want mine back too. So much it hurts.

Thanks for sharing and God bless you both. Keep holding on.

Judy

Sent by Judy Voller | 9:20 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Oh, wow, I do understand, Laurie. This is the hardest thing you'll ever do. This is as hard as it gets. You've both borne things that you never would have believed possible. With cancer, you often accept loss in stages, each one so unbelievably difficult.
For me, the last stage, his final passing, was not the most difficult. The loneliness is awful, but with cancer it started long before he died. Having his suffering stop was a great relief.
I love that you wrote great memories, Laurie. When my husband died I knew that the memories of his illness would linger. His strength during that time was something I should never forget. But I have focused more on the memories of happier days and I know that he'd like that. I smile and think of him all the time. I am so blessed with memories and our connection is forever.
Leroy is a well-loved man and this long goodbye is so,so hard. But you're doing it well. Our hearts are with you and with Leroy.

Sent by Laura | 9:23 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Hi Leroy and Laurie. Laurie's poem is very beautiful and expresses the frustration all of us feel as we experience changes, and the resultant losses, in our lives...change and loss which is inevitable and over which we sadly have no control. As we get older (I'm about your age) these changes seem to be harder to adjust to, the losses more permanent, and our age doesn't seem to make it any easier to accept them.

I feel like there is some small comfort in knowing it's a universal experience and we aren't alone. And how wonderful and fortunate to have such beautiful memories. My dream is to visit Hawaii one day, and your descriptions of Leroy's antics there make me yearn for that day! Thanks.

Sent by Diana Cramer | 9:27 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Although I don't think it's exactly true, my 11-year old says I don't laugh anymore -- not since my diagnosis of colon cancer in May '06. We had a long talk last night, as I tried to break it gently to her what it means that the cancer has come back only eight months after the initial treatment was done. She says shes always known, that it could be 2 weeks or 10 years that we will have together. We agreed that we both have to laugh more, that we don't have time to waste on the typical mother-daughter battles of will, or on pre-teen angst. Such wisdom from a child. I miss the laughter, too, Laurie. I wish I had words of wisdom for you, but I'm searching for them for myself as well. May God bless you and Leroy, and keep the good days stronger in your memories than the bad days.

Sent by Dianne | 9:28 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I know, Laurie, I know.

It doesn't help telling you that you've got some great memories. I had 26 years with Pat and, call it selfish, I want more. I know we were lucky--some people would give anything to have one year, one month of what we had. But that doesn't really help. I just want more.

I'm sorry.

Sent by Kathy B. from Michigan | 9:34 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I think that every one of us here can identify with what you're saying, Laurie.
We want to go back, and want things to be the way they were before. We want the bad things to go away. We want to hang on and never let go. We wish, with all our hearts, that things could be different. But somewhere inside, we know - it ain't gonna happen. So, I'm going to wish for all of us strength to walk this path that is not of our choosing.

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:35 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Oh Laurie, how my heart aches for you. Know that you are both in my thoughts.
Thank you for sharing your feelings today. I know how painful this is for the loved ones.

Sent by Donna R. in NJ | 9:36 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I hope you can both find some peace from the past while facing the future.

Sent by Tim | 9:40 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy,
This one hit me hard this morning. I can relate, even 7 months later, I still want Neil back. I wish things were different too! So many changes, not all of them good and none of it is easy. My heart goes out to you both....Peace!

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 9:43 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Lament can make for long nights & un-reconciled wants mostly sour prospective. It might help to indulge more moments of normal. We all need time away from picking clean the gorilla's fur. Compartmentalize the things cancer and set aside personal time to go re-meet your friends.

Tony Snow & I shared the same cancer timeline. If you believe the body is just a weak shell meant for this imperfect world... It would seem Tony's soul beat cancer with grace.

Hold Fast, God really does Love us all.

Don MacLeod

Sent by Don MacLeod | 9:46 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Thank you Laurie for articulating these thoughts. I am a cancer spouse and I often find myself thinking 'I want our life back!'. Yet at the same time I'm there for my husband, I organize his care, I share his journey here in Cancer World. I was glad to see your post because I am sure other cancer spouses have these feelings too.

Sent by sara in california | 9:47 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Hello Laurie,
I am a long time reader. But this is the first time I have posted here. Leroy has inspired us all in many different ways. I cannot even imagine what you are going through now. All I can say is my prayers are with you.

Sent by RV | 9:48 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I am stunned into silence as I read your heartfelt love for Leroy, and then the comments posted. I am with them...and with you...

Sent by Helene Weingarten | 9:49 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Leroy and Lauri,
My heart ached this morning when I read the wishing list blog. Being in the cancer club is a hard place to be when illness and pain replace simple pleasures. Being a caretake of a cancer patient is next to sainthood Laurie and I say God bless you for being there for Leroy and thank God that he may not be able to do those things on the list but he has the gift of true love with you by his side.
I have just woken up and I have so much pain that instead of getting up to go to the gym, I am choosing to stay in bed and take pain pills. I used to wish for what I could used to do, but it brought me mental pain, so now I just am grateful that I get to spend another day here with my daughters. I haven't given up the fight but just know that being good to myself and relishing what I can still do and having the memories of the wonderful times with my daughters is all I have now. So I don't waste the energy on what was, but am grateful for every moment...simple as it is...it is the only thing gives me peace.
Hold his hand Laurie, and just know that yes it would be wonderful to be sitting in Maui, but the cancer has given you a gift to appreciate what once was and how to relish the time you have with Leroy today.
I wish you peace today and always,
Miriam

Sent by Miriam | 9:51 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I think you caregivers have it the worst. I can't imagine being in your shoes.

Sent by Lisa | 9:57 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie & Leroy -
As I sit here in my office reading this with my door shut - the tears are streaming down my face. My thoughts are with you!
Andi

Sent by Andi | 10:06 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I continue to believe it is harder on our loved ones than those of us with cancer. I hate that I am making so many people sad.

One thing you and Laurie have going for each other is that you can express your feelings so well. It helps everyone to read your eloquence.

Tony Snow's death this weekend was once again a wake up call. Obviously, on one level I know the reality but when you see someone with so many connections not being able to fight this disease I know that I have been incredibly lucky but that our ends will be the same. Peace,

Sent by Dona | 10:17 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, What a loss you are enduring. It seens that piece by piece life comes unraveled with cancer. I hope that in these days (weeks, months) you will find new joys with Leroy, that there will yet be new ways in which to know and love him. Hold tight onto the spirit you each have, share it and rejoice in it.

Sent by Linda | 10:20 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
This is so beautiful. I hope you can look at your life together and know that so many couples may not have ever shared that much closeness in their relationships. You and Leroy have, and that is something you can always carry in your heart, no matter what.
Much love to you in this difficult time.

Sent by Kathleen, NJ | 10:22 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I cry and ache for you Laurie. I wish I could give you comfort. I know that all of us here are surrounding you with love and understanding, but I know the pain you feel is terrible. I cry for all of us who are losing, or who have lost, those we love with all our hearts.

Sent by Tina from Alton IL | 10:25 AM ET | 07-14-2008

It's hard not to cry for what is lost. How beautifully written, Laurie.

Sent by Marcia Greer | 10:28 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Leroy and Laurie. I just flew in from Maui last night. There really is nothing quite like a Maui sunset. I can't speak for all of Maui but there were a few fudged golf scores on Kaanapali...and I'm sure that includes my husband's.
I don't know Leroy, but I want him back too. And I want Matt back. My son wants his friend...my neighbors want their son.

Sent by Sue in Rochester, NY | 10:28 AM ET | 07-14-2008

It's funny -- since my son was diagnosed two years ago, my bottom line has been "I want our life back". Everything we were prior to "that day" -- I want it and nothing less. Try as I might to make peace with the situation, to integrate it into "who I am now", at my core I am still angry at what was taken.

Now that my son has moved into "survivorship" -- that may last forever or only another 10 minutes -- we actually do have back some of what we've lost. But it has left me with two feelings -- increased anger at what we can't get back (that naive security that we have another day, or that my son will never be touched by tragedy), and growing fear that, just as we start to enjoy the good that is coming, it will all be taken away again.

I guess I still want our life back -- all of ours.

Sent by Tym | 10:31 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie:

Your despair grabbed at my heart and brought tears to my eyes. Your sense of loss is so palpable. As a former caregiver for my beloved husband Richard (who passed away in December 2001 of lung cancer), I share your grief. We mourn both before and after death. It is often harder on the caregiver than the patient. Leroy seems to have come to terms with his situation, but you are "raging, raging at the dying of the light," or at this stage at the physical changes and losses in your lives. As I face certain symptoms of the progress of my own Stage 4 colon cancer, I am at a certain level of peace with the inevitable. So I have been and am on both sides of the fence. Neither location is a good place to be. My love and prayers to you both, always.

Sent by Marsha Hogarth | 10:31 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Love causes so much hurt but what is life without it? How wonderful it is to be loved. Laurie, your words are beautiful and I know your pain. Hold on to every good moment.
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 10:38 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I think what you're saying...is that the healthy should enjoy every day and cerish the little pleasures - because they're not so little.

3+ years into my own remission, I find myself to stressed at work again to care about little pleasures that I once though so important.....Life is irony, Laurie. Life is life.

Sent by Weisbe | 10:39 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie -

As usual, my fellow readers sum it all up. We all have those days when we can't - no, I mean don't - want to deal with the changes occuring in ourselves or our loved ones. Those days are so very hard, but I think needed. It helps us remember the loved one as they were, and helps us focus on living every single MOMENT we have left together in loving each other, and keeping it real (for want of a better word).

One of the Hospice Nurses told me this weekend that they were all going to really miss my dad when his time comes. Then she said "I bet he was a great dad to have growing up!" Well, this just floored me - here dad has been trying to get out of bed unaided, and messing with his foley, and doing things that make both mom and I wince and apologize, and not only do these angels see past that, they see the man, husband and father that he once was. Well, right then and there I launched into some stories, and even as my heart aches to see him decline, I am truly thankful for the memories I have, and for the memories we make. To see his face light up when I walk in makes it bearable.

Hang in there you two, and know the hugs, love and prayers that come your way unending.

Dannielle

Sent by Dannielle Higgins | 10:41 AM ET | 07-14-2008

In November 2003 my best friend died from pancreatic cancer and my younger son was in jail because the mental health system had failed him every way it could. December came and I had this terrible realization that the two things I wanted were Carole back and my son home and well. Neither thing I could have and no amount of money or wanting would fix that pain. Luckily my son went to the hospital instead of prison and I have been able to make peace with his ongoing struggle. I will miss Carole to the day I die. I tell you this because I can read some of my pain in yours and again have that feeling of wanting so much to be able to make it better for both of you. So I will pray and continue to hope for better days.

Sent by Dianna Austin | 10:44 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I think one of the toughest balancing acts in cancer world is being torn between wanting what *was*... and relishing what you *have* in the present moment. When my mom relapsed after her bone marrow transplant, we knew it was only a matter of time, and not likely to be long before she was gone from us. I didn't want to "waste" any of that time grieving for what she couldn't do then - all the normal things you write about, like going out to eat or to enjoy the beach. And yet I couldn't help it.

For whatever it's worth, we shared that sadness together and it took nothing away from our last days with her. It is OK to be authentic with those that you love, and who wouldn't grieve over these losses?

I have heard the saying that great pain is the price we pay for great love, and I believe it. It will come to all of us someday, in some form or other. I am willing to pay that price, and I think you are, too. Because we have both been blessed with great love, and will have that experience as part of us forever.

Hugs to you both.

Sent by susan | 10:45 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Thanks for sharing this. I fully understand the wishes to have things "back." I hope on the good days you can look at Leroy and see that "he" is still with you. You are so lucky for that.

Sent by Dianne (DC) | 10:45 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
I hold you in my heart today. And I continue to pray for your miracle.
Keep adding to your wish list. You don't ever want to forget a moment.
Much love to you from Pat

Sent by Pat McRee | 10:45 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I am so grateful that Laurie can state her feelings so clearly and honestly, and share them with you. What a team you make!

Those robust joys were wonderful, and how can one not miss them?

Yes, to the sentiments expressed, and yes, also to the truth that all these realities are still intact and very much part of who you are. They are an integral part of your experience, and not lost or gone even though you traverse very different ground right now. I heard that even the memory of a hug has measurable therapeutic benefit. So I'm guessing that memories of the best times we've had can't hurt either, and may summon up joy if not endorphins too. Wishing you both the comfort of memories, even as you adjust to the present daily realities. Most of all, I am wishing that you discover new ways to find joy amidst the emerging terrain.

You've been in rough places before, and at risk for your life, and continents away from Laurie. I hope some of the skills you have developed in that lifetime of adventure will cross over into your new frontier now to ease the way for you both.

I hope in time, that special moments from the days you are now sharing will be added to the cherished memories file.

Sent by Sarah | 10:48 AM ET | 07-14-2008

We're all there. Some of us are a little behind you, some are even with you and some a little further ahead. There's really only one thing I can say:

Understood, loud and clear.

Sent by Bruce | 10:50 AM ET | 07-14-2008

laurie, thanks so much for sharing this with all of us. we are fortunate to have you both as part of our daily lives. God speed.

Sent by sarah | 10:52 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I'm so sorry, Laurie, how this must hurt. Hold on to those memories. Both of you. You've got me near tears.

Sent by Alycia Keating | 10:52 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie dearest.... We all so understand. I find myself so often returning to some words I read these past two years (perhaps here) which go something like this: "I mourn what used to be, what might have been, and what never will be."

Words uttered today touch me so deeply, as an echo of my own heart... particularly those of Nancy, Al, Robin, Teri, Dianne, Miriam and Charlotte.

Thank you all....

Sent by Betty Obst | 10:58 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Leroy and Laurie-
As always you have touched the hearts of so many people, both in and out of cancer world. Thank you for sharing your most personal thoughts, wishes and fears. Hopefully we all can take a little share of the pain and lift it from you as we read your posts. You both deserve a lighter burden to bear. Wishing you peace-

Sent by Merin | 10:59 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie
Wantin back the good old times may be bitter sweet. We all treasure whatever made our heart full. The times we look back on are all about "life" and there is stiil so much "life" left in Leroy right now. Hold his hand,"feel" the life and treasure the moment. Loss can be so painful...My heart goes out to you and what you are going through. You are loved and prayed for daily.

Sent by Pam from Mass. | 11:02 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
I'm so very sorry, I understand how you are feeling. It has been 8 months since my husband past and I miss him everyday. Bill was only 46 and we had almost 29 years together. We would have been married 24 years in May. I am so happy for those years, but still wish for more. I know how hard this is for you it is like you are grieving Leroy and he is still here. I went through the same thing. I would look at Bill and knew deep down that the end was coming and I still didn't want to believe it. My heart aches for you. I understand what you are feeling. We love that person so much and to watch them change is so hard we want them to be the same person just as much as they want to be. I remember at the end Bill's friends came to visit him and there was times he would just drift off to somewhere else, and I would try and bring him back by calling his name. I knew he wanted to be the same person with his freinds as much as we wanted him to be and I tried to help him best as I could. Laurie, the only thing I can say is take Leroy in your arms and kiss and hold him as much as you can. Enjoy the time you have as much as you can. He knows how much you love him. I wish I could have more time to hold and kiss Bill. Looking back I was afraid to. I wanted to stay strong for him and help in anyway I could. I didn't want to break down and upset him. Don't be afraid to let him know how sad you are. I think Bill & I would always be thinking about the other so I think there was times we didn't say things so as not to upset each other. I'm so very sorry Laurie I understand how you feel. I pray that God gives you the strength you need to get through this. Know how much you two are in our thoughts and prayers. May God bless us all with a cure for this monster.

Sent by Aurella | 11:03 AM ET | 07-14-2008

I cannot stop crying. Your words hit very hard. I am sorry you are having to go through this. You are teaching us with your courage to be so brutally honest. I wish you peace, Laurie. Namaste.
Susan

Sent by Susan | 11:05 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, I am humbled by the halo of grief left in my heart from your writings. Love to you, Graham form Sag Harbor

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 11:06 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Leroy and Laurie,

Beautifully said. So raw. So real. So honest.

xoxo
Holly

Sent by Holly Anderson | 11:07 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,
Thank you so much for this post. It helps me realize I wasn't being selfish when my husband was in his last days.
I remember sitting in the Cancer Clinic one day after David had his radiation, he was so confused and disoriented. I was just sitting there by him and did not realize tears were streaming down my face and one of the nurses we had gotten to know saw us. She came over and hugged me and I could barely speak but all I could say was "I miss him so".
He was right there with me but he seemed so lost at times. I didn't let him see me cry many times, maybe I should have I don't know. We never really sat down and truly talked about the end. Maybe it would have helped if we had shared our tears and fears more. I'll never know.
So you and Leroy do what you feel like, say what you feel.
I am living proof of what it is like to not be allowed to share your grief. I have done so more on this blog than anywhere else. Grief shared is halved, well that's what they say.
I would reccommend some reading for you even right now that did hep me, the book Widow to Widow was wonderful. I could relate to so much and wish I had read it before David died. There aren't a lot of instances in it that deal with prolonged grief. That needs to be addressed. Living with cancer and then dying from cancer causes a different kind of grief. It really takes a toll on a person.
Take good care of yourself and cherish each moment now. Watch sunsets, listen to good music, talk and hold each other every chance you get. This is the time to take the time.

Sent by Janice, Troy AL | 11:11 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, I really feel your sorrow. My husband was a very strong Fire Chief 2 years ago until we got the Dx of Pancreatic Cancer. Due to the chemo side effects, he had to stop working and the cancer fight became his job. He is still fighting, we both are. He recently had another MRI and the news was not good, the tumor that spread to his liver is now in other spots in his liver and he will need to start a new chemo. He just had cyberknife a month ago but it didn't really help. We go to the doctor today to find out the game plan. I wish we had our life back, but we have to accept whaat life has dealt us. We have to pray each day that a miracle may come along. This is what I do. Hang in there. Helen

Sent by Helen Martin | 11:11 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy,
I know there's not much we can do, but please know that we are here beside you in spirit. My heart goes out to you.

Betsey

Sent by betsey in albany ny | 11:13 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Oh my, this hits so close to home. As hard as we try to put on a good face and be brave, it is difficult not to every once in a while want that old life back. My husband and I have been on the cancer journey for three and a half years. Now my sister has been diagnosed with cancer. How do you tell someone that life as they know it now will never be the same. Hard as we try to live with one foot in Cancer World and one foot in the real world, it's just never the same. My heart goes out to both of you. I wish you peace and consolation in the deep love you share.

Sent by Janet | 11:14 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Leroy and Laurie, This was a really beautiful post, and it really hurt. My husband and I read it together and got pretty emotional. We've been there too recently when we were losing his brother and we empathize with you so much.

Laurie - I'm so glad that you're expressing the love and grief you have and not keeping it all bottled up.

Leroy, how loved you are. Thank you for all your good work and for the difference you've made in so many peoples lives - especially Laurie's.

I'm sending powerful prayers for peace, comfort and support to both of you.

Sent by Nichole in FL | 11:25 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Yes, I want my husband back also. He never lived on the edge like Leroy, but he was my life partner. Now he can hardly remember from moment to moment what is said to him. A real conversation is impossible. I have lost the ability to even try to communicate. Laurie I have empathy for you. It takes a toll not only on the one affected but also those that care and are part his life.

Sent by Barb | 11:30 AM ET | 07-14-2008

This makes my longing for sex as it used to be from a husband who survived prostate cancer in otherwise good shape, seem very trivial. Thank you for waking me up Laurie.

Sent by Susan S | 11:46 AM ET | 07-14-2008

No words today, just love to you both...

Sent by Brenda | 11:47 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Leroy and Laurie,

With aching hearts, our thoughts are with you both ...

Allow me a little indulgence: We're on the riverbanks, waving "Hello! Good trip!" as you float along the beautiful waters today, and I'd like to imagine that it's a peaceful, wide, meandering river (no whitewater today, please!) with brilliant blue skies; warm sunshine; birds gliding above; and a welcoming beach to set up camp in the evening. Good food around the campfire; wine (unfortunately, from a box, because we are on the river, afterall); and all the loved ones that you might wish to join you for an evening's conversation, laughter and pleasure as you gaze upon the stars and the universe.

Wishing you both a day of unexpected peace and love,

Always,
Kim Forester

Sent by Kim Forester | 11:48 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, My wife has said this so many times. It hurts to hear the pain in her voice, but I understand how she feels, we all do. This encounter with a dreaded thing changes evrything. Sure, you try not to let it, because somehow you think you have failed. Not so, you want that trip to Hawaii as bad as she does, but you feel so poorly, you don't know if you could even make the Flight. I could handle the Mai-Tai, I think. I am so sad for you and Leroy words are insufficient to express it. I wish for you, and all of us , it could somehow be different.
With much Love, and Thoughts for the future. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:50 AM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy,

Bless you both. You have been my cancer support group and more recently my grief support group. I want my husband back. I want to hold his hand, feel his arm around my shoulder, see his presence in the room, hear him breathing (and snoring!) in the bed. Even though you are sad now, Laurie, relish those parts of Leroy that are still there to be enjoyed. I wish you all the best.

Sent by Betsy in Oregon | 12:00 PM ET | 07-14-2008

The best part of it, Laurie, is you "had" that part of him. In your memories you have that gift. Hold tight to it forever. Remember, it all for both your sakes. Ten years out and I still treasure every moment, the good and the bad. I want it all back, but I still have it in my heart and memory. You will also. But, you are so right, it is TOUGH!

Sent by Lucy Groh | 12:10 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Hugs Laurie!!!

Sent by Dorothy - Los Angeles | 12:13 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,
Your message this morning has brought me to tears. There are no words that can really help. The "old Leroy" you describe may not return but he's still here, inside your head and heart forever.Not long ago, I had a vivid dream about someone I love who is also much changed, mentally and physically, from his old self (though cancer is not the cause). In my dream, he was young and vibrant and strong, laughing out loud. I awoke feeling so happy. May you have similar dreams, and also keep making new memories every day.

Sent by Doris | 12:13 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy:

I have been reading this for months but have never felt moved to comment until today's post, which was so beautiful and so painfully sad. My boss died two weeks ago tomorrow after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just three weeks before. I miss his counsel. I miss his laugh. I miss the way he gave me credit for work he clearly had done. I miss the best boss I ever had. I am so sorry that I did not have the chance to tell him goodbye and how very much he had meant to me.

You two are in my prayers and good thoughts.

Sent by Elaine | 12:19 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, I am so sorry for all the frustration and pain. Your love for Leroy came through all your words so clearly.
My boyfriend left me last month. Today would have been our one year anniversary. I know that isn't long compared to other middle aged relationships, but my teens and doctors loved him and I really thought he was going to stay...
He knew I had stage IV melanoma when he met me- I was even doing a chemo pill at the time. He understood the extremely poor prognosis.
Then I became NED and I believed it was because of his presence in my life. Attempts to get him to reconsider "us" went from bad to worse. I am alone in this "long, strange trip" again and I have no choice but to accept this.
Thank you for sharing that whether one has a significant other or not, there is still pain involved. No scenario is easy.

Sent by NancyGM | 12:19 PM ET | 07-14-2008

This post leaves me stilled by the memory, sitting by the window with my father, my hand in his. Soaking in his love and wishing for his smile, and long hikes by the Eno, and laughter as my kids climbed all over him. I am so sad,Laurie, that you are having to endure this grief. My heart opens wide to send you hugs.

Sent by Kay from PA | 12:21 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie:

Of COURSE you want him back! It is a hideous feeling to have someone pulled from your loving. That is what death does to those who are left behind. It is SO HARD to let go of who and what was precious. Please allow yourself to grieve - even while he is still here. Some of it you can do together. These will be hard days, but you can still be close. I hope you can take advantage of that.

Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 12:22 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dianna A - I too am dealing with cancer and a child in the corrections system. While people are very sympathetic about my husband's cancer, I rarely talk about my daughter who is serving time unless I know the person well.

This adds another dimension to cancer world. My daughter knows that she will incarcerated longer than her dad will live and that our twice a month visits are all that she has. It just adds another heaping spoonful of stress.

Like others, I don't think a lot about the man BC (Before Cancer). I think it's important to honor John as he is now. He doesn't talk about it. But cancer has taken his strength and energy, his bladder and part of his bowel, which means the occasional wet bed, and when he needs to go, he needs to go now. His surgery removed his prostate also brought impotence (another subject not talked about...when cancer takes your love life). All this loss in search of a cure and the cancer still came back!

So I try to honor the John that remains and not to remind him of his losses. I know they cause him as much pain and physical insults of cancer.

I figure I'll have plenty of time to remember my husband in his "glory days" and that the time of his leaving is not far off.

Forward is the only direction we can go. So we go forward.

Sent by Ricci | 12:26 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie and Leroy, I am sad for you both, but I also see that you have many wonderful vivid memories to revisit. Hold on to those and try to visualize them. I am thinking of you both, Susie

Sent by Susie R. from OH | 12:35 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, there are thousands of us who know exactly where you're coming from.

I want my Dad back.

I want my Mother back. She died less than two years after he did. Her death certificate says she died of complications from COPD, but the reality is, she died of a broken heart. Even though their relationship was alot like Frank and Estelle's on "Seinfeld," my mother just couldn't take living without the 'ol First Shirt. They had been together 46 years.

Change blows. Cancer stinks. What you're feeling is all a part of the process. The sad thing about it all right now? You'll look back and consider this one of the "good 'ol days." But, your remaining time together is precious and is a gift. Enjoy it the best you can and remember you've got a whole community behind you.

I wish you peace.

Sent by Joyce in FL | 12:39 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie and Leroy
So beautifully said and so sad as well, please enjoy every little bit you have and keep it very tight in your memories. I can identify with your want, a very dear nephew went throught the same as you are and that is what we did, just continue as you are.Thank you for sharing your very personal and deep wants.
Peace be with both of you and God keep you always.
Marelly

Sent by Marelly | 12:41 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,you deserve all these wishes.

Sent by Sue | 12:46 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie: What can I say, your words are absolutely beautiful. You truly touched my heard. What a wonderful picture you painted. God Bless you Honey, God Truly Bless you.

Sent by Robert Sheehan | 12:47 PM ET | 07-14-2008

The posts of the past couple of weeks have been really heart rending to read. Wish things could be made better. Love to you both.

Sent by Jen | 12:55 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Thank you Laurie for sharing such a personal thing. I don't know how my husband feels about me--cancer survivor. I try to be my old self, but I am not and never will be. Your thoughts today, however, were a wake-up call to me to start building new memories that he and my son can hold on to if cancer should take me from them. right now I'm not sick, but know that someday I could be. Your perspective will help me.

Sent by Susan | 12:57 PM ET | 07-14-2008

So powerful. So heartfelt. So true. This poem puts us all in a certain place with a loved one. You couldn't have said it better. I will go out today and really appreciate the ones around me. Thank you, Laurie

Sent by Laurie de Gonz??lez | 1:09 PM ET | 07-14-2008

dear laurie
that is so beautiful god bless you and leroy

Sent by kim parris | 1:11 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Reading the blog this morning, the words were so sad. The memories that were, but not now, they are only memories. I am still hoping for a miracle, that the disease will take a turn around. I will continue hoping and praying.
I am a IBC Cancer Survivor myself. For me its been 2 yrs,
You both are in my thoughts and prayers.
Page Hendryx - Gresham Oregon

Sent by Page hendryx | 1:17 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Leroy and Laurie, I haven't written in a while - vacation and also just not much to say these days. I couldn't stop the tears when I read today's post. Up till now, I have tried to just accept cancer as a (admittedly bad) part of my life, but recent events have made me really hate it. While I am technically cancer free right now (and I know how very lucky I am for that), the collateral damage that cancer has caused in my life is sometimes worse than the cancer itself. Laurie, I too so very much long for my previous life - I guess we will always mourn that loss. Please, both of you, know that we are always here.

Sent by Gretchen Hoag | 1:22 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Ahhh Laurie. This is a rough road for you. Grief is so devestating. I appreciated Robin's(8:50AM) response. Tomorrow might not be as good as today, so yes, tomorrow we might be wishing we could have yesterday back. Remember being 30 and thinking "Man, I have got to lose weight and get in shape"? Ten or twenty years later we look at pictures of ourself during our twenties and think "I'd give anything to look like that again"! As impossible as it seems to do, try to embrace with JOY the measure of health that today offers. Loving thoughts go out to both of you as you face both uncharted waters.

Sent by Susan | 1:23 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie
I'm angry too. I want my husband back. I want our old life back with its highs and lows.. its so far away. Yesterday my husband, who is under hospice care and with oxygen got up out of his hospital bed and took off his oxygen and came and layed down next to me in our old bed and he, in his drugged state, explained it was all a bad dream. It lasted for about 3 min. when he needed his oxygen and his bed & a new dose of meds for pain.

Sent by Irene | 1:35 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, Dear Leroy,

We hear the heartache and heartbreak.

Our hearts go out to yours.

Virgie's mom died from cancer 36 years ago and she still wants her mom back.

We are holding you both in our hearts, spirits, and prayers.

Heartlight,

Virgie and Kim

Sent by Kim & Virgie | 1:36 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Thanks, Laurie, for saying what we all feel but do not say out loud. Love and good thoughts for the two people who have given me such strength.

Sent by Betty O'Connor | 1:50 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,
Many hearts are breaking for you, as you can imagine.

Thank you for knowing that Leroy's Army are here for you, too. The fact that you are willing to and feel comfortable enough with us to share these thoughts is as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking... When we urge you to take care of yourself, this is one of the ways to do so. I am so glad you shared!

Thank you again and always.

Sent by Judie in CT | 1:50 PM ET | 07-14-2008

laurie,

i cried at what you wrote today. you really summarized what caregivers must feel. i hope for more happy times for you and leroy.

Sent by roni | 1:55 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie:

I think you said it all. Wish I could make it better for you.

Yesterday, we had a family get together for a visiting brother-in-law. He had on one of Burge's shirts I had given him after the funeral last year. Even from across the room, the memories of how it felt to hug Burge came flooding in and I almost couldn't stay in the room. I miss Burge's big, warm hands on my face and his gentle voice. Seeing the shirt brought wonderful memories back for just a moment it thought things were OK.

Yes, I want Burge back, but only if life is a CD and not a cassette tape for as we rewind and then start forward, I want to be able to skip tracks and not have to play through the past three years.

Nikki

Sent by Nikki in Kansas | 1:55 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie - You are not only a life-giver, you are a love-giver. It's heartbreaking to see you go through this, and to know that one day my life/love-giver will go through the same thing for me. Yet we must keep an open heart, no matter how much it hurts. A few words from a John Mayer song I am listening to:

Pain throws your heart to the ground
Love turns the whole thing around
No, it won't all go the way, it should
But I know the heart of life is good

Sent by Patte Lazarus | 1:58 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Yes, it hurts. But aren't we blessed to be left with those beautiful memories? Alzheimers disease is not that generous.

Sent by Marilyn Trujillo | 2:02 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie
To love and be loved like that is so rare. I'm so sorry for your pain, but so happy for you to know a man's true love and genuine devotion. Be gentle with yourself. What you want is called being human.

Blessings,
Kate

Sent by Kate in Calif. | 2:08 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I too want him back ... even sitting in a recliner waiting for assistance to get up. I too miss the adventures of his incorrigible youth, his gentle nudging that kept his parents boogie boarding, hiking, traveling ... but mostly I miss him ... being able to discuss books he read, the world he hoped to make a difference in, even just watching stupid television.

I want to hear that his laugh again.
I want to hear him planning for a trip to some God-forsaken region and actually being excited about going.

It has been 10wks and I, too, want him back ... just hold him again.

Sent by Donna | 2:30 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie, I can only imagine the depth of your pain and longing. The strength you show in writing this and sharing with us is truly amazing. I wish that I could offer some comfort and meaningful thoughts, other than to say that the incredible love and joys that you and Leroy have shared are so evident.

Sent by Sheara | 2:42 PM ET | 07-14-2008

My mom has alzhiemers. I miss her too. A reminder to me to appreciate the people in my life every day as much as humanly possible

Sent by Missy Patterson | 2:42 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Aloha Laurie and Leroy...you are cradled on Maui today, and always.

Ua ola loko ke aloha
Love gives life within

Sent by Joan S. | 2:54 PM ET | 07-14-2008

There's a Bryan Ferry song, "Dance With Life" that was played at my husband's gathering of family and friends. One line is "Breathe the sweet fresh air
And make every second your last
And I'll touch you from the world I wake in
Make the most of the present and the past."

That's what I'm trying to do, and you will too.

Bless you both.

Sent by Virginia | 3:00 PM ET | 07-14-2008

This breaks my heart.

Sent by Madeline | 3:03 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie / Leroy
On Saturday my second daughter was married. My onc had arranged a 2 week break from treatment so that I would not have any side effects on the weddind day.

I danced all night, smiled for thousands of photos and hours of video. I gave a speech that brought many to tears. It was all about love and had not even a hint of cancer. I tried to re-create a snapshot of me being me, before cancer. I want my future grandchildren to have a sense of who the real me was, if they don't get the chance to meet me in person.

Today it was back to the "real world" and the start of a new regime of meds with no planned breaks. I'm proud to have met my goal of not only being here for the wedding, but also of spending 2 days without the thought of cancer crossing my mind.

I wish everyone can find some way to take a cancer vacation. All my best to you both,

Shaun

Sent by Shaun | 3:03 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I am so sorry for your pain and wanting to have the person you love back from the horrible disease of cancer. I had very simular feelings caring for my sister.

I hope writing what you wrote so beautifully helped you in some way.

Karen

Sent by Karen | 3:20 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Hugs

Sent by Tess | 3:40 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I have my own list for myself, a cancer patient. But today's posting is about our caregivers. So I'm just posting to say thank you, Laurie, for sharing your list. I often wonder what goes on in the minds of our caregivers and loved ones who knew the BC version of ourselves. Your words were rather touching. Thank you for matching Leroy's candor.
P.S. It was just wonderful hearing your voice on NPR the other day.

Sent by J S M | 3:54 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, It's hard to write this email as my tears keep dropping on the keyboard. But if there's a prize for best and most moving email of the year, you have just won it. Let's hope it gives you Leroy back sipping Mai Tais. Miracles can happen. I don't pray much, but I'll pray for that one. Love to you both, Tom

Sent by Tom K in Sydney | 4:03 PM ET | 07-14-2008

What I often thought when my husband was sick was: Everyone knows that when you get sick, you get over it--doesn't matter what it is, a cold, the flu--sickness is a temporary disruption in normal life. Then, there was cancer, non-hodgkins lymphoma in our case. I kept thinking that this is the kind of sickness that we are supposed to get over. Yet, he didn't "get over" it. He just became more and more sick--and no amount of medicine, no taking of temperature, no special foods for the patient--none of the things that worked when we were children--none worked. When I read this entry today, it reminded me of how helpless I felt that I couldn't "make it better" and get us all back to our normal lives again. This entry is a poignant reminder that the longing for our rightful and normal life never leaves us even with cancer.

Sent by Hanna | 4:40 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,

Your words paint a picture that is truly meaningful. You are in my prayers.

Sent by Marcy in NJ | 4:46 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Chronic and terminal illness is so unfair. You deserve to have him back. I'm sorry you can't have the old Leroy back. God bless you as you discover the "next" normal. Love to you both.

Sent by Kim | 4:49 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
You are in my prayers. Wonderfully stated. With care.

Sent by anne lumberger | 5:13 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I wish I could share my tissues with you.
It's big box.
Much love to you Laurie,
Debra

Sent by Debra in New Hampshire | 5:30 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Tony Snow's passing this week made me think of you and other battling cancer.

I heard that he had had frequent check-ups because his mother passed away when he was seven. Yet the cancer came, and came back.

It is frightening to realize that even vigilance cannot wholly protect one from cancer. It is indeed a determined foe.

Many wonderful voices and minds are stilled by this terrible disease.

Sent by Scott S. | 5:33 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I wish for you what you wish for you.

Guess what? A pregnant feral cat has shown up in the barn. She is a beautiful tortoise shell, but meaner than hell. Thinking about cat traps, but haven't a clue.

Peggy C.

Sent by Peggy Carey | 5:54 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I am so sorry.
My heart break for you.

Sent by Robin Smith | 5:57 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Hi Laurie-First time writing here, but been reading the blog for a while now. I lost my wife to a similar cancer last year. I can understand what you're going through. 2+ years of discovery, hope, disappointment, moments of realization, truth, emotions, and the inevitable. Just 9 months since my wife passed away, I can say that I am stronger than ever before and although I miss everything that she once was to me, she somehow lives on within me. Be Strong. You are an amazing person and Leroy... Thank you so much for sharing this experience with the world.

Sent by Mo | 6:05 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie/All,
Tomorrow will be a month since my husband died. Up until now, I've been focusing on paper work, re-organizing after we finished with hospice care, looking out for the rest of my family and even going so far as comforting friends. It all kept me busy and kept my mind from accepting what has happened. I was even able to endure his birthday two weeks ago. But now, today, the fog is lifting and all I have thought about is, "I miss him and I want him back". My heart goes out to all who are dealing with this awful disease.

Sent by Elaine | 6:06 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I've been thinking about this since my earlier post. I can give you this as a piece of advice/a warning/a cautionary tale:

No matter what the outcome, Laurie, your life will never be the same. There is no going back. Leroy's survival would mean the world to you (and us), of course, but neither of you could ever possibly be as you were before.

And alternately, the loss of Leroy would mean you'll have to completely rebuild your own life, from the ground up. Start from scratch, and decide what is now important and what isn't. Jettison the things that no longer work or are no longer valid for you personally.

And you'll never, ever get over it. All you can do is say, as I've said before, "what is, is" and "this is the hand I'm dealt" and make the best of it, even on days when you'd rather die.

And, as I think I've said here before, although I miss Terry terribly every single day, I'm growing fond of the person I've become. I'm tougher, stronger and much more resilient than I ever imagined. It's taken some time to go from being "us" to being "me," and I'm still not entirely there yet, but it's time well invested.

The anger at your and Leroy's losses will never leave you, no matter the final outcome, so be prepared. I'm sure anyone else who's either lost someone OR gone back into NEDland here can back me up on these points.

Love to you both

Sent by Bruce | 6:53 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Special to NancyGM,

You are not alone in this community. We are here supporting everyone together. Lean on us, that is what it is all about.

Sent by Sue Chap | 7:25 PM ET | 07-14-2008

I hope I'm not repeating myself, I have computer issues.

I wish for you what you wish for you.

And if that is not to be, then I wish for you a moment's respite.

Sent by Peggy Carey | 7:29 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Dear Laurie,

I personally know what you're going through and I can only say:

Courage!

I'm still lifting (along with everyone else here) and I continue to hope and pray for a miracle for Leroy, in whatever way it may manifest itself.

Love to you both,

Sent by Janice J. , Los Angeles | 7:35 PM ET | 07-14-2008

What a neat guy Leroy is. Thank you for sharing this with us, Laurie. I want my son, Andrew, back. I want to see his smile, hear his voice, talk to him about "Foyle's War," which I watched last night on Masterpiece Theatre. We thought we saw the last of the series last Fall, but now there are three new episodes. I want to hear about where Andrew plans to go on his next vacation. He was a traveler of faraway places. (He grew up in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.) I am so sad.

Sent by Maureen | 7:44 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
You said it for so many of us. I told someone the other day that I wouldn't bring Leon back if I could, not to cough and have trouble breathing...but then I said "Maybe for a little while". I miss him every day and long to have him back.
Reading all the posts also makes me so thankful that he didn't suffer a lot,
didn't lose much weight, and never lost his courage. The Monster took him from me before it reached his mind--I am grateful for that.
Wishing you peace,
Jane

Sent by Jane | 7:46 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie, you have expressed your feelings so well. We feel with you and we understand. I encourage you to savor the time that you both have, right now. Do some of the things that you can do. Have him put on his favorite Hawaiian shirt and take him outside to sit. Watch a funny video and listen for that big deep laugh. Gossip, talk politics and sports. Don't stop living yet. Keep going!

Sent by Sandra | 7:58 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,
Todays post was one of the most beautiful and sad things I have ever read. You say the things I wish for everyday now. Twenty years ago when my husband had a heart attack at the age of 35,his doctor told me I would need to grieve for the life we had lost..meaning it would never be the same. When my husband was in the hospital on a ventilator this spring I prayed only for God to let me be able to bring him home and manage his care. He was able to get off the vent in 2 weeks and home after 6 weeks. No, our life is not the same as it was before cancer and it will never be but everytime I schlep an oxygen tank or the wheel chair or am awakened by snoring that rattles the shingles, I try to remember how bad it was 3 months ago. My heart breaks for the man he once was and swells with love because I still have him for whatever time is left. My heart breaks for all of us. Be strong when you can and weep when you can't. God bless.

Sent by Kathie | 8:49 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Your words speak volumns, your thoughts and feelings are so beautiful. Thank you for sharing. Jan in Ct.

Sent by Jan Cassella | 9:21 PM ET | 07-14-2008

When I was dignosed with my two cancers, I told everyone that if the Cancer explodes they would find me spending my days in a place right on the beach in Hawaii.

When I read this, I cried. I wish and hope that you could get to Hawaii. I know how beautiful and special Hawaii can be. It is truly amazing! However, Hawaii is in your heart and spirit. It becomes a part of you.

God Bless the both you. You are in my heart. Huge hugs to both of you.

Sent by Amy Jenkins | 10:09 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie- you and Leroy deserve a big collective hug from all of us right now. Imagine circles upon circles of readers who have been touched by your blog around you now for comfort for you both when you need it. What would the real numbers look like?

Sent by Charlotte | 10:14 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Life is so filled with "land mines" that blow up and make us realize how much something meant to us.

Sent by N. Holmes | 10:26 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Hilary Stanton Zunin wrote:

"The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -
But the pain of grief
Is only a shadow
When compared with the pain
Of never risking love."

Sent by Allecia | 11:07 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Laurie,

I'm sure Leroy would echo your sentiments; I know I do. As much as I want my life back, I'm sure my family, like you, wants me back, too. This disease is so unfair and cruel.

You are as eloquent as Leroy. My prayers are with you.

Sent by Nancy | 11:55 PM ET | 07-14-2008

Since my husband was diagnosed with advanced Stage IV Pancreatic Cancer 4 months ago, life has never been the same. Although, he was initially very positive there has never been a period of remission or a return to any normalcy.
I too, miss our life together. I just live now for periods of alertness that we can share a conversation or laugh about a memory or see a smile on his face or share a loving touch. A break for him from the pain. It gives new meaning to living life " a day at a time" or "in the moment".
You struck a cord with me today. Thank you for sharing. God bless you both.

Sent by Janet | 12:52 AM ET | 07-15-2008

Leroy and Laurie,

Having just walked this path with my husband I can so totally relate to both of you. My heart is with you both. I am sorry that you have to travel this path. Hang on to each other. I will continue to pray for strength for you both.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 2:04 AM ET | 07-15-2008

some where over the rainbow, skys are blue...........

Sent by diane | 6:14 AM ET | 07-15-2008

Laurie,
Significant others take on so much. For those of us with cancer, one of things that make us so sad are those we leave behind.

SO many don't speak about it. Suffering in silence. The situation is so unfair. I worry about my husband. He doesn't say much. The stress is unreal.

Just wanted you to know we understand. More than you know.

Sent by Janis | 8:54 AM ET | 07-15-2008

i wish I had magic. .or a special potion.. to give him back to you... hug him tight... just hug him...it is still the same man...

Sent by Francesca | 1:12 PM ET | 07-15-2008

I agree with the commenter who pointed out that in your heart and in your memory, you have all of him...the laugher, the planner, the talker, and also the man with cancer. There is a terrible intimacy in sharing an illness, but it is a real intimacy. You cut through everything that doesn't matter and with luck, share what does, including loss, tears, and sometimes even a good giggle.

Sent by liz | 7:41 PM ET | 07-15-2008

Dear Laurie -

I lost my mother three months ago to colon cancer. I still want her back. Sadly I would take her in her worst moments, even at the point where she was very ill - just to be able to talk to her again. I miss her so much. That being said, what you are going thru is exactly what I felt during the end stages of her illness. I wrote in my journal so many times that I missed her before she actually died - because they do change so much. In her case, the start of hospice offered a lot of peace. I was amazed - the pain relief they offered - changed her completely. She was able to eat foods that the colon re-sections had made impossible like salad (morphine has a binding agent), she was able to be around my kids and enjoy their laughter and even though she was on oxygen and things were still changing - she was not in pain and this was great. We had three great weeks together before jaundice set in and that was priceless.

I wish I had a miracle button right now. You are in my thoughts.

Sent by Becca | 11:55 PM ET | 07-15-2008

Laurie, I am sorry for your pain. Hang in there and know prayers are coming to you BOTH from Chicago.

Sent by Beth | 11:59 PM ET | 07-15-2008

Laurie,
I've felt this way so many times. When someone is so full of life and vigor it's so hard to see them stifled. I share that pain. It's a helpless feeling but you put it so eloquently.

Sent by Kamala | 7:37 PM ET | 07-16-2008

Oh, Laurie - I cried and cried after I read your post. I lost Paul last October to multiple myeloma, and I, unfortunately, know exactly what you are going through. No one should have to go through this - no one. Our situation even had another twist that I've never read about in your particular situation. Paul was diagnosed in 2003, and he was told that the best chance of a long remission was a stem cell transplant. Of course, we listened to the wisest minds around and thought it the best thing to do. Back then they did high dose chemo, which was much "higher" than high dose chemo now. No one had even mentioned that all of the chemo could kill brain cells as well as bone marrow cells, and it never even crossed my mind. But, a few days after Christmas in 2003, Paul became delusional as well as extremely ill. I wish I could say that he recovered completely mentally from the stem cell transplant, but he didn't. So, for the remaining years of his life, I already had a partner who looked very much the same, but one who never was.

You are braver than I was, Laurie. There were times when I would just break down and cry, and think that I was in some respects a widow already, because it felt so much like it. I know now that they call it "anticipatory grief", but to me, it was merely a living nightmare. At least he was still here then to comfort me - all I have now are memories. I wish I could give you words of wisdom today, but unfortunately, I cannot. All I know for sure is that you are a lot stronger than you think you are, and, with Leroy and his Army's help, you will get through this. Just be sure to accept every little bit of help with anything that anyone offers. Both of you need it now. I'm so sorry.

Jeanette Carney

Sent by Jeanette Carney | 10:16 PM ET | 07-17-2008

Wishing you strength, Laurie, and peace in the knowledge that you were/are there for Leroy. The 'wanting him back' will remain & pain for some time, but your life will return-- Leroy wants you to live & love fully, & peacefully

Sent by J.Ron | 9:38 AM ET | 08-02-2008

Getting a message on Saturday is a rarity. But a beautiful message--and I know how you feel, Laurie. Tears welled in my eyes, and know that there are many understanding readers supporting you. We've been there and we know.

Sent by Judith Hoffberg | 11:19 AM ET | 08-02-2008