I think you are right, Laurie. Those are things that can be donated somewhere and help someone else who doesn't have the means.
But I remember keeping the wash-worn, soft flannel shirts of my dad's- to wear sometimes to feel like his arms were around me- until I felt that I could feel his arms, without the shirts. And that's okay too...

Sent by Norma | 7:31 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Oh Laurie:
Now comes one of the hard parts of your new journey....I had a hard time letting go of the "Scars". Maybe I felt I should keep them, that they would make me feel closer to my husband. Just take one day at a time (Actually one moment). Someone had told me not to do anything drastic or make any changes in my life for a year. I found that to be true. I understand getting rid of the 'scars' and the timeline, but take it slow. Only you can decided when the time is right..
Much Love and Hugs!

Sent by Joanie Weaver, Front Royal, Va | 7:42 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
I'll be thinking of you often today and tomorrow (cleaning day...) and for many days to come. While the journey you and Leroy were so brave to share with us has come to an end, you're faced with another journey now. Some days you just get through as best you can. Please know there are many of us out here who will be "lifting" for you...1.2.3..
with my heartfelt sympathy and deepest respect,

Sent by Kellie in Switzerland | 7:46 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie~ Oh, I feel for you so deeply. The aftermath of all this misery must be as bad, if not worse, as going through it with him daily. Now that it is all over, the silence must be deafening! Lean on us all for support and love. We shall remain here for you when needed. Much love~

Sent by J C R | 7:49 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I am so saddend by your loss. Although you can never know how many of us were touched by the sharing and caring of you and Leroy. Please know there are lots of people lifting right now.

Sent by Gay Ousley | 7:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Oh Laurie, this post did bring back the tears. I was with my sister during her last week, the time when all the Patient tools were sent in by Hospice. Within hours of her death, they were thankfully removed from my mother's home. The image I have burned into my brain is how peaceful and sweet Mary looked after the Hospice team prepared her body to be taken out. They even redressed her in her favorite pink PJ's.

I don't think of that time as a battle lost ... oh yes, war was waged, but in the end, Mary won. She left this world surrounded by family and friends. She taught us how to live, and how to die with grace. The words she wants on her marker "When in death I'm free, I'll sing on for eternity". Mary left us June 29 after a 6 year battle with Multiple Myleoma.

I hope that you will see your beloved Leroy as free, and victorious. His life and legacy matter. He touched so many others.

Sent by Anne P | 7:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie

My heart aches for you. We just learned my dad has stage IV lung cancer and I dread what lies ahead but it is a path we must take.

Words cannot describe what I have gotten out of this blog. I have learned so much that I feel better prepared to deal with dad's illness and what lies ahead for my family.

I wish you the best of luck in moving ahead with your life without Leroy, as I know that will be difficult as well. Oh how I will miss reading Leroy's blog every morning.

Best wishes to you and everyone else in this community.

Pam

Sent by Pam | 7:55 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

I have followed this post for some time now and have wondered from time to time what the draw was for me, since I don't have cancer (that I know of). I soon realize it's my way of trying to understand the cancer that ravaged my father 23 years ago.

He was so secretive about the cancer that I didn't know he had it until the day he died. I was in the Army, and I got a call from my mother (they were divorced) telling me to make arrangements to come to Chicago (where we're from), because my father was dying of cancer. She called back later that day to say there was no rush; he was already dead.

Apparently, he had cancer for years and was undergoing treatment, but he never told me. The members of my family who lived in Chicago knew, but didn't think it vital to let me know what was going on--I think they didn't want to face it any more than my father did. I remember one statement that my father used, probably hundreds of times, in his pre-cancer days that was indicative of his life: "If I were hungry, I wouldn't tell you." He took pride in never letting anyone know he was suffering, which I consider a deficit of his character.

What you call the scars of cancer would be, for me, things to connect me to a father I no longer have, who didn't think it fit to let anyone into his world. Not the big things, like a hospital bed; something like Spanky (the stuffed dog).

It's amazing to me that, at 47 years old, I still wish my father opened up and told me what he was going through, and how much I still wish it would've been.

Sent by Leonard from Alabama | 7:55 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Jewish families wait a traditional period before giving away the possessions of loved ones who died. I think it gives you time to really assess which items have a deep meaning to you. I'd give away the medical stuff in a heartbeat--that could help someone else. But I'd leave the rest for a while.

I have been the caretaker of two people who died recently, one after a very long bout with cancer. The ordeal certainly takes a toll on caretakers. Others often talk about "moving on," as if you should blithely forget what has happened. Believe me, every day you get out of bed you're moving on. Use this time to take care of yourself, to grieve this sad loss, and to face your own fears of the future. Lean on your friends and family, and visit places of great natural beauty--local spots that offer peace for the moment. I send you a long-distant hug.

Sent by Liz | 8:02 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie ~ That sounds like a great idea! I'm sure your hospital, clinic, etc. would appreciate the equipment.

Why look around and see reminders of the sickness, when, instead, you can look around and see the years of happiness, or picture that big smile or that infectious laugh?

We're all here behind you. Thinking of you today and praying for peace.

Sent by Tracy | 8:04 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie:After about one month of my end of treatment but still feeling very sick and weak.. I went around the house.. .collected every singled medicine bottle.. port care pads... everything.... and threw it all away... it was a wonderful felling...
tomorrow will be hard as you will revisit every single step of Lerou journey but I reckon that will make you fell batter..
thinking of you and lifting.. and lifting ...
blessings
francesca

Sent by Francesca in Zurich, Switzerland | 8:04 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie:
We are all so different, yet your post on the scars of cancer reminded me of a friend of mine who died of breast cancer after such a battle! She had a hospital bed in the living room (rather ironic name for the room under the circumstances). Before her passing she made her husband promise that the first thing he would do after she left was to remove that bed so her young children could be spared of its emptiness. I never gave it that much thought until your post.
Take care.
Susan

Sent by Susan | 8:10 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Those are not the reminders you need around you now. Spanky maybe but not that stuff. Sending you love and energy for the days ahead. Thank you for thinking of us and sending the post today.

Sent by JaeMoyer | 8:13 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Oh Laurie,
Welcome back. Yes, getting rid of all that stuff will be a good thing. I cleaned house as soon as I could. I needed no daily reminders of the cancer that tore my life apart.

As far as the rest of the stuff, everyone said I would know when it was time. I have just sent Neils clothes to my brother and a good friend of his, his fishing stuff went to his good buddy that teaches kids fishing, and I still have the two shirts he wore the days before he fell. Sometimes I wear them, sometimes I sleep in them, I can still smell him and I need those moments with him. As far as the few other things that were important to him....when I am ready, I will decide. Some things I will never part with but I have decided that I need to find a special place for them. Someday, I will. I am in no hurry. All things in their own time.

Reading all the posts over the last few days made me realize how lucky I am to have found this blog. It has helped me now to cope with the issues surrounding my loss. I have found I am not alone and it is still okay to hurt, even almost 9 months later. I learned that 2 years down the road I can still cry and it will be okay. Although I cannot imagine my life two years down the road without Neil.

My dream was ripped apart by cancer. I have learned all about greed, anger and hate. I have been told I did not need to move to MS because I knew he only had 6 months to a year to live. How could I not? We fought for every day we could with each other and no one will ever understand how important that was to both of us. He wanted me to close to him every night, he told me he was afraid he would not wake up. I gave him the love and security he needed to sleep and the love and support to fight. I love him, I miss him and no one will ever take that away from me.

There are so many of us out here still fighting for hope, still suffering, still hurting, some are where you are now, and some are close to being there.
What matters most now, we are all here, supporting each other, loving each other, sending cyber hugs to each other and we are here for you now.

To all of you out here in cyber land, thank you for being here for me too! I am truly blessed by each and every one of you...

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 8:13 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Scars. Interesting way to think of it.

I also went through that, getting rid of the walker, the wheelchair, the bedside commode...

I can't throw out the canes. They're in an umbrella stand next to the front door, along with Terry's umbrella. With everything I've thrown out or lost along the way, it's important to me to have the canes and umbrella there, to silently tell visitors that Someone Was Here. A life was lived here, and it mattered.

Sent by Bruce | 8:14 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, take it slowly & do only what you're truly ready to do. Many, many people are here to offer support & caring for you throughout this part of your journey. Thank you for sharing with us. It is a gift.

Sent by mary | 8:14 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

All of us who have been part of this community will be more than glad to continue to "lift" you as long as you need it. The "scars" were hard for my mom to deal with when my dad died more than 16 years ago. Only you know when the time is right for you and we are all here for you. (Writing this comment has made me think so much about my dad and how we all miss him. I have some of the things I gave him over the years and it is a good and comforting reminder of his presence in my life.)

Take care and take one step at a time. It is all any of us can do each day.

Sent by Carolyn, Haslett, MI | 8:15 AM ET | 08-20-2008

It took me awhile to be able to begin to let go of the things that cancer brought to my wife, Debbie's, life...I finally was able to donate the two wigs she bought to the American Cancer Association and that did give me some peace but go at your own pace...you will know when it is time...I still have not been able to tackle the closets and drawers and don't know when that will feel right.

Remember always that all that your love could do was done.

God bless and comfort you.

Tim Broussard

Sent by Tim Broussard | 8:16 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
Leroy may not have beat cancer, but he won at life.
Janie

Sent by Janie | 8:21 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I just returned from taking my youngest to college, to find these posts waiting in my mailbox.

My heart aches with you, Laurie. 1.2.3. We will lift you, as long as you need. And very selfishly, I hope that Leroy's Army begins a new tour of duty through you. I will miss Leroy, and all of this community very, very much.

Sent by Kay from PA | 8:23 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Take your time Laurie and do it at your own pace. Thinking of you!!!!!
Cristina

Sent by Cristina Barthel in Tampa, FL | 8:24 AM ET | 08-20-2008

You'll know when the time is right Laurie. For some of the ugly memories, the time will be sooner. Dad died 3 weeks ago, and as Norma mentions above, I want one of his worn, warm flannel shirts. Take care Laurie, and sending love your way...Linda

Sent by Linda Lee | 8:29 AM ET | 08-20-2008

For me, the silence in my mother's house was so hard when I was trying to clean up/out. I remember a huge thunderstorm and Beethovan's 9th on the radio cranked up as loud as I could make it. So make some noise!

You can do this. You've been so strong. We can do it with you. Jane

Sent by Jane Snell Copes | 8:32 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Thinking of you today. Having been through the cleansing process, for me it was disposing of all the left over medication that was most difficult. With each container that was spilled into the commode I thought of the wasted medication and the lost hopes for the pain and illness they would never relieve.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 8:33 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
I have already tried to erase the "Scars of cancer" from my house. I had to re-carpet the room that we used for hospice care and paint the walls. I have replaced the hospital bed with a comfortable queen-sized bed and have ordered new curtains for the windows. The room is bright and cheery but the scars on my soul remain. My thoughts are with you.

Sent by Elaine | 8:33 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dearest Laurie -

This is a hard time. I am assuming that the memorial services have happened, and the immediate things to do are winding down and you are left with the big tasks.

Outsource anything you want to to your friends (I'm in NJ - so I can be there in 3 hours :-) if you need me).

For my Dad it was my Mom's 4 decades of clothes that hung in her closet. She moved into their house in 1970 and never threw anything away! You can imagine the collection of clothes. My sister inherited 100 pairs of size 11 shoes! My Dad couldn't do this job, but we could.

There is a reason everyone says it takes time. Even these practical matters take a lot of time!

When my Mom died my dad ended the newspaper subscription, so for 7 years I have been reading it online, just in case there is someone he knows in it. An outsourced job that I still do.

Remember to take care of yourself!!!! You can't face these things without being kind to yourself.

PS - I am so glad you blogged today. If you are still blogging in November, will you tell us how Leroy was planning to vote :-) :-) :-) I have my theories.......

Sent by Liz L. | 8:34 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
It is so nice to get to hear from you again. I can't even imagine what it is like. 1...2....3....lift! Whatever you may need from us. Your journey is taking a new turn, and it will be wonderful for those about to go through this side of it, or are going through this side of it to hear from you.

Sent by Gina B | 8:37 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Well said Laurie.

Then there is not only the sound of your loved ones breathing stopping, but the whoosh of the oxygen machine is silenced. The quiet is deafening.

I just heard Josh Groban's song Awake on the way to work this morning and I lost it. Still 11 1/2 months later. If only he could be here. I hate cancer!

Please give yourself time Laurie. Your race has come to an abrupt halt and it takes time to figure out what to do with yourself and your time. Let it be.

God bless you Laurie and thank you for sharing with us. We appreciate it.

Judy

Sent by Judy Voller | 8:40 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Godspeed Laurie!!!!

Sent by sarah | 8:40 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie
You keep doing whatever you need to heal your own scars......we all do things in our own time and our own way and that autonomy is very important! You continue to be on my mind lots.....

Sent by Jan | 8:41 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie, you hit the nail on the head. My Dad went to the beautiful Hospice facility for only the last day of his life. We stayed with him into the night... Then my mother asked to be alone with him. I had been staying with them, caring for my Dad and I went back to their condo to rid the condo of all the 'scars of cancer'. I could barely see through my tears but I wanted to cushion the blow for my mothers return. After I was done, all that was left was his striped hospital bed. Then I freaked out. Maybe my mother would be hurt more to see all evidence gone! Oh man! What did I do?! I was a nervous wreck. When she came home she was so relieved to see all the 'scars' gone. It could have gone the other way. We all have our ways of grieving. Everyone of them is right. Peace, peace, peace. Namaste.
Susan

Sent by Susan | 8:45 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, I understand and agree. The day after my husbands memorial service I had scheduled for the oxygen tanks to be picked up. They were the biggest reminder. Other items I found could be tucked away for another day to deal with. I will be thinking of you as you go along this path. So many of us are walking with you, and praying for strength and guidence for you.

As someone posted yesterday, Leroy did leave you something very special. The "My Cancer Blog" family. Laurie, in Leroys comments his love for you showed through greatly. He had to know that all here in this family would reach out and try to comfort you and help give you the strength to go forward. You are a very special person and so lucky to have had someone special like Leroy to share your life with.

We all care.

Sent by dorothy in oregon | 8:46 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Cleaning day is important. It helps you remember your beloved the way they were. You are so right about the reminders of the hard times. Anything you can donate will help somebody else, and that is a good legacy.

One thing that people sometimes find helpful is having a quilt made of clothes or other personal items that are left behind. Sometimes the clothing still has the person's fragrance, and it's a comfort to have that to hold onto. It's just a thought. I'm a quilter and I know of quilters who have made these kinds of remembrances, either as a kindness or as part of a hospital program. Our local cancer hospital program has such a program for children who have lost a parent and the kids work with a quilter to say what about their mom or dad they would like the quilt to represent. It's never a bed blanket project; it's more of an object to hold for emotional comfort.

Sent by Celeste | 8:46 AM ET | 08-20-2008

When I was through with my treatment I suddenly looked all around me and was reminded of Cancer, every where I looked. When I was ready, i got rid of all the reminders. I donated my wigs and cancer information and my scarves etc.... It was a release for me. When the time is right you may want to do that too. We can't erase the memories and why should we, but sometimes just making a new space for yourself can be very healing. Moving onto the next phase of life. Step by step. Whatever works for you.

when you are ready.

Sent by jenngie | 8:58 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Thinking of you today, Laurie. Take good care of yourself.

Sent by Jen | 9:01 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

Sending you lots of lifts as you go through this monumental task of cleaning the house. Remember that scars heal slowly

Keeping you in my prayers,

Sent by Laura | 9:03 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I was unaware of this blog until a couple of days ago. I wish I had known of this sooner. I was diagnosed with metastatic colon cancer in March 2003. I have been through multiple surgeries and been off and on chemo ever since (currently back on). What Leroy did in creating this site was truly remarkable. What a wonderful way to give back to others. May your memories of this man sustain through the difficult days ahead.

Sent by Judith | 9:03 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
My heart aches for you and you are in my prayers and thoughts daily. We are all here to help lift you up and help ease the pain in whatever way we can. How lucky you were to have had Leroy in your life and for him to have had you in his. That is what will sustain you - the love, the memories....

Lianne

Sent by Lianne Friedman | 9:04 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

I remember after my mother passed away, I was trying to help my father in those first few days. He wanted to leave everything exactly as it was, and I agreed that it was the right thing to do. But seeing the 'scars' from mom's illness was taking a hugh toll on me and I felt it was the last thing she would want as her remembrance. She always balked at keeping the 'take homes' from her trips to the hospital, but in the end needed the help that as you say 'make life a little easier' although emotionally I know it made it hard on her to be dependent on them. Dad agreed that she wouldn't want to maintain any of it any longer than was necessary and it seemed like a good place to start when you don't know where to begin...

Thank you for continuing to give so much to us even in these difficult times. Still lifting and loving you...

Sent by Faun | 9:04 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie - I am so surprised that you have to do that. Hospice did all of that for me while I sat outside and right after my husband passed. I came back in to a clean house with all the "stuff" gone and all my furniture put back where it originally was. They took all his meds too. You take your time and take care of you in the process. Prayers are with you -

Sent by Deb from Michigan | 9:06 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
I hope you will continue to write to us. I saw you and Leroy as a Team. It is hard enough to loose one of the team , I would not want you to be lost to us also.
This pain, although different ,can be comforted by
those who shared Leroy's journey with you. I hope you will continue writing until you no longer need or want to.
Wendy

Sent by Wendy Narzem | 9:06 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I have read your blog for a while but never posted. This entry really hit home. After my husband died 15 yrs ago...my house looked like a small hospital. It drove me crazy!!! Like a demented fool I went through and donated what I could and I'm ashamed to say I threw out the rest because I simply couldn't stand to look at it anymore. Do what you have to do Laurie!! There will be light again. It took a long time for my light to come again, but it did happen. Patience...which is not my virtue...would have come in handy!!! LOL!

Sent by Rose a Lee | 9:07 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Yes Laurie you are so right and on target with your thoughts. These items are not part of who Leroy was or would have been. I feel he is almost directing you or confirming/agreeing with your decision. I hope you are feeling this as well.

Sent by Carolyn | 9:10 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Sounds like a good plan. Give yourself time to deal with all the things he left behind that actually meant something to him, but anything you both regretted ever having to bring into the house? I can't imagine why you'd keep that stuff around. It might be something that others could help you with; it might even be a favor to give them something to do. (I know that seeing your message yesterday was oddly comforting, just the thought that there was something that could be done that would help you a little.)

If you only ever had an item because you absolutely needed it, then when you don't absolutely need it? It can go.

Good thoughts. So grateful that you're sharing this part of your travels with us.

Sent by Linda | 9:10 AM ET | 08-20-2008

To J.C.R.

Hope your husband is better after his surgery

Sent by Irene | 9:11 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie
I hope you know that hospice care does not end here. You can and should ask them for help. And I don't think the cancer won. Leroy had 33 months. I saw in the obit that you were married in June. I went back and read some of the posts from then, and Leroy talked a lot about getting his "affairs" in order. Maybe when you feel up to it you can tell us more. I also recommend hanging on to his things for awhile. My brother died in 2001 and I still have a wear one of his car coats, which still has some dog biscuit crumbs in the left-hand pocket. Take care and thanks for writing.

Sent by Dianne (DC) | 9:11 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, what a treasure this blog continues to be. I cannot begin to describe how much both Leroy and your entries have meant to me. I hope you know how many prayers are being sent your way as you continue your journey in the coming days, weeks, months and years.

Sent by Kathy W. | 9:12 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Good morning Laurie,

I can relate. After my dad passed, I wanted the equipment, bed, etc out ASAP. Of course my ASAP and the companies were a bit different. Going through the clothes was easy, it was other stuff, small stuff, finding things with notes, smells, and now vacancy. I don't have be at his place except to spot check and even then it is in and out as quickly as possible.

Take your time, do what you can and walk away when it gets too much.

Sent by Sue Chap | 9:12 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, thank you for writing what you are
experiencing.....It was a relief to hear your voice. Your honest way of stating your dilemma..is needed....The gift that both of you have given to me is your real, absolutely gut feelings and thoughts. I have appreciated more than you will ever know-the realness of
the dailies. The rest of the world is
either giving advice or wanting to fix, rather than accept the reality of living with a loved one who is not going to recover. I don't have any sharing as to my experience. We are walking through the reality that his health will not improve. The juggling act of having good days and then scary changes and days. Love, blessings and peace to you. Diane

Sent by Diane | 9:17 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
After I posted today, I was thinking about what a gift you are giving to society by writing to this blog. Seriously, you deserve some kind of official commendation for your efforts. You and Leroy have provided an invaluable aid and much needed resource for the fight against cancer. Your contribution is tantamount to this fight and I salute you.

Sent by Elaine | 9:18 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
Look at that. You made it through another day. I have had the scars of cancer, and I can tell you cleaning house is so very helpful. My husband and I had to do it after both of his parents passed away. It's not easy, but necessary. You are stronger than you know.

Sent by Kathleen, NJ | 9:19 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Wish I could be there to help.

Sent by sarah j | 9:20 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie...oh so happy that you are letting the kind people on this blog "lift" you as you go. After all my treatment was finished and I could get out of bed, I just stuffed wigs and medicines and medical props in a big box in the basement, so I wouldn't have to look at them. When my sister's husband died, she made teddy bears out of some of his favorite shirts and ties, and gave them to his children and loved ones. Their youngest daughter was married last week, six years after he died, and one of Dennis' teddy bears was the ring pillow. It was a wonderful way to keep his spirit with us. It takes some time, but one day, your memories of Leroy will be dominated by the the good and happy times...namaste, Rebecca

Sent by Rebecca Bauder | 9:22 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Yes, it was a battle, but not one that Leroy lost. His legacy lives on and I will cherish everything he has brought into my life. I've learned to appreciate my life more; I've learned that a job is job; I've learned that one sweet kiss from my daughter makes my world right again. Laurie, my heart is heavy as you begin to wind down from Leroy's battle and begin your own. You have and will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers everyday. We are here for you...hugs!!!

Sent by Tess from KY | 9:23 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie:
Soon I will be in your position, as my partner of 34 years was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer 30 months ago. So we know how this story is going to end. Interesting we live in a small rural village and there are 6 other women here, ranging from 45 to 70 who have lost their spouses to cancer. Quietly watching them, the "flashy one" has remarried and regrets it. Two others have gotten into relationships that give them companionship and maybe love, after originally being in a state of depression, for many months after their losses. And the last two, the oldest and the youngest have chosen to live solitary lives with the memory of the spouses taking center stage. As for me, I have no wish to share my life with another person again, as John can never be replaced. A psychiatrist once told me that there would always be someone for you to love at every stage of your life. Maybe this is true, I just know that John is a part of me and that is more than enough. I'm guessing that the same is true for you and Leroy. I hope that the pain you are feeling now, diminishes with time.
With love,

Sent by Jacqueline | 9:23 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
You'll know what needs to be done at what time.
It takes how long it takes.
I am honored to be with you on this painful journey.

Teri, Sasha & Judy Voller: Thinking about you and sending warm thoughts your way, hang in there.

Much Love ,
Debra Altschiller

Sent by Debra in New Hampshire | 9:24 AM ET | 08-20-2008

We are all with you sending thoughts of strength and care.

Sent by anne lumberger | 9:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I agree with Janie's comment above: He may have lost the cancer battle and he won at life.
And we are so greatful for him sharing his personal story, the good , the bad and the ugly.

Sent by Jane Kaminske | 9:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
Thanks for taking the time to keep us abreast of what's happening for you. We will continue to walk beside and behind you--whatever you need. I agree with everyones comments about getting the medical stuff out and to whoever can use it. The other stuff will take time to relinquish; allow yourself that time and be kind to yourself in the process. My heart goes out to you!

Warmly,

Sent by betsey in albany ny | 9:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

You are so right Laurie. Bill died at 12:389 pm on a Thursday and Hospice came that same day to remove everything. I just didn't want to ever see those things again. Get rid of all of it as soon as you can.

Sent by Laurie B | 9:30 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
All of your comments are all to familiar to me, as I walked with my mom through her battle with brain cancer last year. Thank you for articulating these 'little' details that, sadly, ring true for so many of us.
Know that you are surrounded with love and prayers. Praying for comfort.

Sent by Autumn | 9:30 AM ET | 08-20-2008

1-2-3 LIFT!
Just a reminder that we are here for you.

Sent by Sherri Beadles | 9:35 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
When my Dad died last summer, Hospice carted off the hospital bed and oxygen tank the very next day. As I work in an oncology setting, I was able to donate the soft hospital sheets, cloth chucks pads and blue pads to some of my patients who where just entering the end stage and were getting set up at home. The bedside commode, walker and shower chair were given to other families in need that I work with. Most all of Dad's clothes Mom donated within a few weeks. But there was this one striped shirt Dad wore constantly! In the memorial pics, he had it on in over 2/3rds of the pictures! That shirt was wrapped up along with his cribbage board and given with love to my brother's last Christmas. By the end of the evening, everyone (all 12 of us) had taken a turn wearing that shirt. Our memories continue...as yours will. We remain your army as you find your way on your journey without Leroy. We love and miss him, and are so blessed to know you will lean on us in the days ahead.

Sent by Karen | 9:36 AM ET | 08-20-2008

It's a very positive thing to get rid of the sickroom stuff, and you will feel a lot more positive when it is gone. After my mother died at my home under hospice care, we donated everything to a local organization that gave these things to other cancer patients who needed them. That is a good feeling too! Love to you, Laurie.

Sent by Kay | 9:36 AM ET | 08-20-2008

First of all, I'm so glad you are blogging, for us and for you. I had done that elsewhere, and still do, and it really helps -- in the present, and to review. You are so right, Laurie.

The first thing I did (with the help of a few friends) was to get the medical equipment OUT of the house. That stuff was an unpleasant reminder of the turn for the worse. The second was to throw out all of the drugs, especially the hospice provided pain drugs. I did call to inquire whether there wasn't some way the unopened could be reused; there was not.

Our living room returned to looking like a living room, which our 14 year old daughter desperately wanted. Gone, too, are all of his comfort accommodates that made up his nest in the recliner: the heating pad, the neck pillow, the lumbar pillow, the special fuzzy blanket, the pillows to cussion his boney behind. Other than that, I couldn't bring myself to toss out any of Curt's "special" foods. Somehow, somewhere in me, I guess I wanted them to be at the ready should he return. Basically, I waited for their sell-by date to pass.

I have done nothing more than that, 4-1/2 months alter. Yes, I like many often sleep with or in his bathrobe, which still faintly has his sent. His clothes still hang in the closet, his art supplies and model making gear still are out on the table in "the computer room." When the time is right I will dispose of them or give them away. That time hasn't come yet. I work, parent, clean house, go to movies and so on, but I am not yet ready to remove the physical evidence that until a few months ago, Curt was alive and busy.

FWIW: The only thing I wish I could've done/could do, and cannot, is take a trip to somewhere pleasant and far away for a week, possibly even alone. At a certain point, all of the hovering of concerned parties got on my nerves. I wanted nothing so much as a vacation from my normal surroundings and the reminders. If that strikes you as a good idea at some point, and you have the money, do it.

Sent by Teri | 9:42 AM ET | 08-20-2008

My sister in law did the same thing...quickly purged the house of all the equipment and medications. She even moved pictures and anything that hurt to look at into his music studio because she was having a hard enough time making it through the day without constant reminders. She even went so far as to redecorate her bedroom completely differently and in soothing colors so she had a new place to retreat to. Our whole family supported what she was doing and it worked out for her. A little more than a year later, she has been able to re-introduce pictures of him and special things here and there and to listen to him singing (cd's) again. At first these things hurt too much, but over time, she cherishes the fact that she has them. I think you are probably in the same situation with his recorded musings here, etc. It sounds so trite and yet it is true that time will make it bearable again.

I'm still thinking and praying for strength and support for you and missing your dear Leroy.

Sent by Nichole in FL | 9:42 AM ET | 08-20-2008

There is the emotional side of all that, and the practical one. The shifting gears and cleaning house makes room for a new normal, and for whatever comes next, without in any way displacing all that has been lived in your home.

Two offerings for you today, Laurie: 1)a Rumi poem I keep in view at my desk, which applies to every day life and trebly to seasons of grief, and whose powerful reference to house-clearing makes it a fit for your message today; and 2)a practical note in case you want to recycle the medical equipment and supplies to others who can use it.

Poem first:

"This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whomeever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond."
Jalal ad-Din Rumi, 1207-1273

And now the recycling bit. I know Virginia has equpment recycling programs for durable medical equipment and suspect Maryland does as well. If interested in seeking such an option, Maryland Technology Assistance Program (MDTAP) may be able to direct you to recycling programs. You can reach MDTAP at (800) 832-4827 (voice),(866) 881-7488(TTY),(410) 554-9237 (fax), or mdtap@mdtap.org(e-mail)

Wishing you a sense of liberation and reclamation, of restoring your home to normal order, all while honoring the journey that you and Leroy have shared. May there be peace in that activity for you, and may the business of that clearing dissipate the extra energy building up, and trigger the feelings you need to explore, and give you space for healing to continue.

With blessings,

Sent by Sarah | 9:42 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

Thank you for sharing your life with us at this most painful time. All of us are thinking of you--and lifting!

Sent by Donna G. | 9:43 AM ET | 08-20-2008

HI Laurie.
I hope whenever you start putting away the things that assisted Leroy you have someone to help you with that. I imagine you well need alot of support that day.

Be gentle with yourself

Karen

Sent by Karen | 9:43 AM ET | 08-20-2008

You lost Leroy, but not the battle. To lose the battle, is not to make the most of the time one is given. Leroy lived bravely with cancer, so yes there are battle scars. I will die of cancer before I am ready, but I am trying to live courageously and follow Leroy's fine example. But not having him with you really sucks

Sent by elissa Rosenfeld | 9:46 AM ET | 08-20-2008

It is a brave thing you aspire to do, but will be a spiritually cleansing act. I remember within a few days of my husband's passing...staring at the big old clunky oxygen machine, the wheelchair, the masks & cannulas, the nebulizers, etc. Donated all usable things to those who needed them. Then had a meltdown!! dear Laurie, we are here for you and I feel privileged to be able to walk with you on this road. Bless you. love from sherri in texas

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 9:51 AM ET | 08-20-2008

laurie,
thinking of you.

Sent by roni | 9:52 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Someone here posted "The Guesthouse". That is one of my very favorite poems and very appropriate. However, don't rush anything. Do what you can and at a pace you can handle. You have so many ups and downs coming...know that it is normal. Lots of folks here wrote very good things. Be kind to yourself as Leroy would have been to you. Ask for help...don't do things alone unless you really want the space.

Wishing you peace,

Sent by Lori | 9:52 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Yes, Laurie, get it all out of your house. Even if it is putting it out of the home somewhere else until all those services come pick things up, and restore your home to how it was before so that happier memories can return.

Sent by Kelley | 9:54 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Hello Laurie,

Following Leroy's blog with the final entry brought me right back to when I lost my mother. She was a suicide which left her children in an awful state, wondering about her soul. Somehow she seemed to come to each of us as a calming presence. It was all at separate times and only weeks later did we siblings tell one another about it.

All this to hope that in the quiet times, you are able to sense some kind of Leroy presence around you. I don't think it lasts long.

All the bereaved spouses I know have gone a little off kilter for quite a while, so do let friends and family comfort you. And if others eventually get busy, you make the effort to connect with them continually. You may not feel up to it sometimes, but it's really important.

There aren't any words that take away sorrow and the emptiness of such a large presence in one's life. I just wish I could hug you and provide a moment's solace.

Gail in Maine

Sent by Gail Johnson | 9:55 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Hi Laurie,

I'm a very infrequent contributor, but you and Leroy have been in my thoughts for a long time. I can really understand how uncomfortable and foreign those "clinical" objects quickly become, now that their reason for being in the home has passed on to a certainly better place where such items will never be necessary. IT sounds like a good idea to get them picked up, leaving your home as it was when you and Leroy weren't living in Cancer World. My prayers are with you.

Leslie

Sent by Leslie Erickson | 9:55 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dearest Laurie and all those whom have also lost a loved one.....

Although I know in grief you can see nothing but a "battle lost"... but I hope one day you will see him victorious.. Leroy NEVER allowed the cancer to "defeat him"... he was indeed victorious... the cancer died not Leroy.. he will live on forever... in our hearts and minds and "on the other side"!!

Anne P put is so well...

"I don't think of that time as a battle lost ... oh yes, war was waged, but in the end, Mary won. She left this world surrounded by family and friends. She taught us how to live, and how to die with grace. The words she wants on her marker "When in death I'm free, I'll sing on for eternity". "

I truly believe the same to be true for Leroy!

You remain in my thoughts and prayers for strength through this most difficult time of grief........

Sent by Ron Bye (NH) | 9:56 AM ET | 08-20-2008

The things that can help others, part with now. We gave my sister-in-law's fabric to a hospital group that makes quilts. The medical equipment went to a chemo center. That helped us feel more powerful, if that is the word. But the personal stuff. That can wait. Give yourself the gift of time. Let healing happen.

Sent by Karen | 9:58 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Yay, go clean those things out. No one would want to be remembered by their medical leftovers. They are helpful -necessary sometimes- during the struggle. But they are never what should be remembered.

I also agree with those who said that that Leroy didn't realy lose any battles--even as his body grew sicker from the cancer. He knew eventually the cancer would get him and he kept going for as long as he could-refusing to give up any pieces of his life to it before he had to. I wish the cancer hadn't taken him from you and from us, but I think he was a winner up until the end.

Sent by N.R. | 9:59 AM ET | 08-20-2008

For all of you out there..who have lost a loved one. My friend and I make Hugging Heart Pillows out of fabric/shirt/pj's of a loved one. She made me one out of one of my husband's favorite shirt that I can leave on the bed and hug as needed( and cry into it)! If you are interested, please email us at Felltheirlove@yahoo.com
Laurie, we would gladly make you one out of one of Leroy's shirts or whatever.
All our love

Sent by Joan, Virginia | 10:02 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie
I don't have any practical advice for you, but I'm sure you'd feel much more at peace without all the cancer gear around. I'm so glad you're keeping up this blog for however long it feels right for you.
In an attempt to get some endorphins flowing for you, I submit for your consideration this clip from "What About Bob?", one of my favorites.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HROJflp4-EY
Hope it brings a fleeting giggle your way. With love,

Sent by valerie Longfellow | 10:06 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

I don't see Leroy as losing. I don't see all those things as scars.

Those were his tools to battle with. That is what helped him get thru the days, just as a soldier needs his weapon. He did not lose, he just ran out of newer, better tools.

Just as Leonard from Alabama, I too have been reading this blog for the last two years, marveled at Leroy's willingness to share his illness, while my father never did. He died when I was 15 and even now, 25 years later, I wish he would have been more communicative and asked for help.

Pass those tools on to someone else who needs them now, and keep his memory alive by living. Go to Maui and drink some mai tais in his name, walk the beach as you would have with him. Celebrate his life, and don't dwell on his death. It will make it easier.

Some days will indeed be emptier, more silent than others. Friends will be at a loss for words and nothing they can say will make the void go away, but it will get easier. Just don't forget to live.

There is a saying that goes:

If you cry because you can no longer see the sun,
the tears will not let you see the stars.

So get the house cleaning done, let his friends have a piece of him, and have a party with all of them, where you can have a chuckle at his expense. He would have liked that.

My thoughts and prayers are with you,

Sent by David Abad in Cincinnati | 10:06 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Hi Laurie,
I recall that after the passing of my grandfather, my family had a hard time parting with some of the tools needed for his care. It took several weeks for it all finally to go and for everyone to be comfortable parting with it. I do recall being up late one night, unable to sleep. I took some house plants that were badly in need of repotting and replanted them in the commode (thoroughly cleaned of course) and putting it in the living room. Everyone had a good laugh when they saw it, and it helped to alleviate some tension and led to some funny stories from the past two years of his care. While his care was serious business, Daniel was full of life during that time and there was plenty of room in him for humor. Stories, remembering, tears, laughing, a few more tears all helped us to heal. I learned a lot from those stories that helped me appreciate him even more. Three years later, there are some clothes in the closet. It takes time, and only you can decide how long that needs to take for you. I wish you peace and healing in this tough time.

Sent by Don Richard (Rehoboth, MA) | 10:07 AM ET | 08-20-2008

If in doubt, don't pitch it out--at least not immediately. 30 years after my grandfather's fatal heart attack, my grandmother was still wrapping herself up in his old bathrobe.

Sent by Shirley P. | 10:09 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I can't imagine how painful this is for you. Thank you for continuing to talk to us. My thoughts are with you.

Sent by Lisa | 10:11 AM ET | 08-20-2008

After my husband, Bob, of 26 years died at 51 years; fast and furious metastic brain cancer, I can remember taking all of his "medical tools" (ie, shower chair, bed pans, etc.)and throwing them in a DUMPSTER! I was very intent in this act....I'm sure it was with great anger as I very rarely displayed any throughout his sickness. I can remember feeling that all these "appliances" NEVER represented my husband and I wanted no reminder of such an awful time in our lives. On another note however, after 5-1/2 years I CAN NOT part with his clothing, hunting guns, shoes, toiletries, motorcycle, etc. Those items bring to memorary the "real Bob Morgan" to me. Good luck Laurie with every moment of every day! Shannon

Sent by Shannon in Keithville | 10:13 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie - Thank you so much for sharing with us again today. I can truly empathize - when you rid the house of these painful reminders of Leroy's and your battle, you are able to remove some of the evidence of the monstrous struggles you both had to endure. But the scars remain on your heart - they bring anger, frustration and terrible grief. The housecleaning helps you remember your beloved the way he used to be before cancer took over. But getting rid of all the outward evidence of the illness can, at the same time, make it very hard on the remaining survivor (which is indeed what you are.) Those items, the walker, the special cushions and bed pads, these unbidden houseguests, all may also be tender reminders of a precious time you shared and of the most intimate connection you might ever be blessed to make with another human being. I say "blessed" from experience, as I have learned at the bedside of several dear people that, as arduous and unmerciful those days together may have seemed at the time, there is a holy presence and blessing that comes with sharing another's last journey. For myself, I found that, as much as I was anxious to rid myself of the things which seemed like monuments to our defeat, I also needed to take my time before removing all vestiges of the heroic last days, months shared.
You were very present when Leroy needed you the most and you were a bold, unrelenting advocate for him in the face of something frightening and horrible. Although the battlefield is strewn with heart-wrenching tokens of a most valiant fight, it is, like all battlefields, a sacred place which honors the memory of the blood and tears shed.
God bless you, Laurie. With love, CaroleD

Sent by CaroleD | 10:13 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

Add one more LIFT to your collection. Feel one more set of arms holding you. Rest in the comfort of the love of all who know and care about you....including those of us who have never met you or Leroy. May you find peace in the abundance of light and love that surrounds you.

Sent by Sandy | 10:17 AM ET | 08-20-2008

You're a funny girl...I *know* that feeling of wanting to Do Something, and cleaning house is one of the most satisfying things you can do. You're funny because you're so much like me...like all of us...just doing what we can.

Peace
jj

Sent by Joan Jones | 10:19 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Good morning Laurie. I can't speak as a surviving caregiver, I'm on the other side of the equation...but once the medical scars are moved out...the true stuff of Leroy's life will be there waiting for you to cherish. More than 10 years after the fact, my family is excited when we run across something that belonged to those we have survived.

I hope that Spanky is helping. Thanks for writing.

Sent by Joan S. | 10:19 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I know exactly what you are saying, Laurie. We needed so much "stuff" for my beautiful sister during her fight. Seeing it after she was gone, every bit of it, a painful, traceable memory of what she could or could not do at that particular time. It's crushing. My heart is hurting for you. I really understand.

Sent by Catherine Bury | 10:23 AM ET | 08-20-2008

My sister and I kept my mom at home while she was in hospice. I think some times, when we act strong for the person who is ill and needs our strength, we do it for our own sake as well. We do that so much, that we can't allow ourselves to be fragile after they're gone. And it is okay to be fragil, it is okay to cry and ask for support, and you're right: cleaning up the house is a good idea. The real person wasn't in the things -- those things were there for him.

God bless you,
Carmen

Carmen

Sent by Carmen Ruggero | 10:24 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Something that has always bothered me was when you read that someone has lost their battle with cancer. Lost their battle?? When my Mom passed away from her cancer I felt she had never "lost" her battle. Her body could not endure any longer but her spirit remained strong. She fought bravely dispite how terrible things were but she never complained, never. I was her main caregiver and I cried every time until I reached her apartment door but as I walked in I put on a whole different face for her. One day I walked in that door and could not stop crying. She kept asking me what was wrong, what had happened, please stop crying and tell me she said. I said " Mom, what am I going to do when I don't come here and care for you? I don't know what I will do." Oh please don't worry about me she said. I will be fine. I have lived such a good life , I am ready to go. It was the first time in 1 1/2 years we had talked about such a time, when things would be over with. Its been 2 1/2 yrs now and I want to call her up and tell her I'm okay. Just want her to know I am okay.

Sent by Rose | 10:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie -

You go girl! Don't ever forget our lifting you up. Although we cannot be with you in person, know that we are lifting, praying, meditating and sending cyber hugs to you constantly. Do what you need to do when you feel up to it, and know that you are loved.

Danni in Traverse City, MI

Sent by Dannielle Higgins | 10:26 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
I ofen think about "The time to clean house" but I have to admit a little secret. As John's illness progresses I find myself cleaning out closets and getting rid of things that we have not used or touched in years. I don't know if I am being premature, but I feel that it is that much less that I will have to face when the time comes. I know that the first things I will get rid of are the oxygen machine, walker, commode, etc.............all the "Scars". When John ends his journey I will have to move because my house is too big and despite the beautiful memories of a happy marriage and raising three beautiful children, I cannot see myself staying here alone. This is what makes me the most sad...........leaving all the beautiful memories. I guess today is the day of telling my secret thoughts...............I also pray that John passes away in a hospital and not at our home. I only want to remember the happy memories here. Today is chemo day and I guess I am just rambling on.....sorry. The chemo is just buying John a little more time. I did not like the idea but it was John's decision to try one last time. I hope you are healing each day Laurie. I pray that you continue to heal and thank you for sharing your thoughts with us. You will be my inspiration. I admire your strength and courage.

Sent by sasha | 10:26 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie Laurie, What a peace came over me this morning when I opened my email and there you were. I need you, we need you for the continuity of our grief. We are together in this where ever we go, that was Leroy's greatest comfort for us all. Stay with us and we will all move on together, caring for each other and lifting us all up up up. Elizabeth

Sent by Elizabeth | 10:29 AM ET | 08-20-2008

When my son's friend Matt died, his dad said that the things that at one time were so important to Matt's care had now just become "stuff". Little by little any of the stuff that couldn't be donated to the next kid in the middle of their own cancer battle, was piled at the curb.
Two years later Matt's dad was outside at 2 o'clock in the morning taking down the basketball net. I guess after a while everything becomes stuff. One good thing though, he is not able to talk about his son and we laugh about Matt's funny sense of humor.
Keep the good, get rid of the sad, and take your time.

Sent by Sue in Rochester, NY | 10:30 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, I would definitely get rid of all of the medical gear that cause you to have painful memories when looking at them. But as far as the personal effects, I would do that a little at a time. It can be overwhelming. Please know that we all are praying so hard for you right now for strength and inner peace. Your strength is something I will always admire about you. And Leroy's? - well that just goes without saying. Although I don't know you personally, I can sense that his spirit will never leave your side. The both of you have been truly blessed. You are both still in my prayers.

Sent by Jeanne Stevens | 10:31 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dearest Laurie
Yes, get rid of the medical stuff - that is not Leroy,and you don't want to have that around you. Keep Spanky and everything else that you and Leroy love. Put on loud music, wear one of Leroy's Hawaiian shirts, blot out the world, and clean out all the medical reminders of the pain you and Leroy suffered. Lean on us, dear Laurie, and know that we are there with you. We love you and cry with you and rage with you. Cancer has not, and will not win any battle.
Sasha - I am thinking of you and John. How are you?
JCR - how is your husband?

Sent by Tina from Alton, IL | 10:37 AM ET | 08-20-2008

My brother died of the same cancer Leroy had - a little over 4 years ago. The hospital bed went the same day. My sister-in-law wanted it gone. All of his sisters wanted it gone too.

She is still meaning to move his clothes, but hasn't gotten around to it. I think they comfort her. All in it's own time. We'll be here for you as long as you need us.

Sent by Kathleen | 10:39 AM ET | 08-20-2008

3 - 2 - 1 Wheeeeeee! and caught by thoughts of admiration, strength, comfort and peaceful nights and joyful memory days. And, those little phoophoo drink umbrellas. I am amazed by your resilience and grace. You both are so lucky to have found each other, and continue to have the gifts you each brought to your marriage. Dreaming to be a blessed in this life and the next as you and Leroy. Scars? maybe, just don't pick at them.... they will fade, and all those grand life memories will rise up to replace these scars. Your candor in sharing is helping a lot of us heal, thank you Laurie.

Sent by Stitches | 10:47 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
Whether you see those pieces of medical equipment as tools or scars, if you feel like it is already time to remove them from your home, go right ahead. If they are tools or weapons of the battle, neither you nor Leroy need them anymore. If they are the scars of cancer in your life, then they should go right away, because certainly where Leroy is, he carries no scars. He is a whole and wholesome being, full of the love you know. Remove the scars, and someday, when the pain, is a little less, you can look at the other things and make decisions.
My prayers are with you. They will lift you up when I cannot.
Dianne

Sent by Dianne | 10:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I guess Cancer (does the word cancer deserve a "capital" C?) can never take away your memories of a time before. Before cancer slammed your lives. Wallow in those good memories...forever.

Sent by Marilyn Cowles | 10:53 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Yes, Laurie, those are your battle scars and the wounds are still open and fresh. Take one day at a time, and if you need to, break it down into smaller components of time. If you decide to remove those reminders tomorrow, take a break here and there. Allow those emotions to take their course. Personally, I believe that the American culture does not allow us enough time to truly grieve. Give yourself that right. It's important that you do.
Hugs to you.

Sent by Kathena@sbcglobal.net | 10:53 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

I am saddened by Leroy's passing - I so admired the bravery and generosity he displayed in this blog. I will miss him, though I didn't know him in person.

Now I'm thinking of you and, along with everyone else, hoping that you will always remember that we are holding you close - in our own ways. So be and do as you wish, knowing we're here to lift you.

Peace and love

Sent by Carolyn in Seattle | 10:57 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
You will be in my heart and thoughts today as you face the scars of cancer. I wish you peace in this tough time. Just breathe, and know how much you and Leroy are loved. That you honored us with sharing your journey as well as Leroys with us. Please just take care of you.
Blessings,
Miriam

Sent by Miriam | 10:59 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
I offer this wisdom as a source of comfort:

In the first place, nothing can fill the gap when we are away from one we love, and it would be wrong to try and find anything.
We must simply hold out and win through.
That sounds very hard at first,
but at the same time it is a great consolation,
since leaving the gap unfilled preserves the bond between us.
It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap.
He does not fill it, but keeps it empty,
so that our communion with another may be kept
alive, even at the cost of pain.
-Dietrich Bonhoffer

Sent by Mary Schnorr | 11:00 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I have never posted before but have been reading Leroy's blog since its inception. After following his entries devotedly, I shared it with some of my co-workers. We were all touched by your joint resilience, hope, and determination. I work for a company who creates patient education materials for cancer patients; after discovering Leroy's blog, I made sure we stuck a link to it on our materials. I can only imagine the number of people whose lives have been so greatly impacted by his honesty and frankness. I know mine certainly has, and I can only offer you my sincere thanks for sharing your lives and love with all of us. You both uplifted me with your strength on a daily basis, and are in my thoughts and prayers. I have lost a member of my extended family with Leroy's passing, and I grieve with you. I thank God for the blessing of Leroy.

Sent by Shelley C. Stoltz | 11:00 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie, Im a cancer patient, and I wonder many a time if this battle is just as hard on the caregivers, family and friends as it is on the patients. I can only imagine the helplessness and sorrow you must feel when looking around. Please know you are in my and many other "friends" thoughts. Roxi

Sent by Roxi | 11:01 AM ET | 08-20-2008

When my John and I received the news that his cancer had metastasized, we had a good old house cleaning and went through closets and boxes getting rid of stuff. We both like a good cleaning.

It's been a year since John was considered terminal and we still occasionally look at each other and say, "That could go" and donate another box or give something to one of the kids.

I've also made a list, consulting with John, assuring that each of our nine collective children and four grandchildren will receive a special item.

I'm grateful that John has been able to do this with me...helping me to prepare for the next phase of my life when he is gone.

But the really personal items? Who knows. I guess I will know when the time actually comes.

A good friend of mine lost her husband to sickle cell anemia and planned and made a cross country trip with her dog, stopping in cities where she had friends and family. This took her a couple months.

I think this is a fabulous idea and in my mind, I plan my trip. Sometimes John and I talk about this trip and where along the way I should sprinkle some of his ashes. I know some people think we're nuts to talk like this.

Laurie - we are with you...following behind and some leading the way. It is a long, strong column.

Sent by Ricci | 11:02 AM ET | 08-20-2008

My family found that getting rid of the "apparatus" accompanying cancer care was helpful, in that the visual reminders of the illness were gone. Obviously the scars run much deeper and will continue to be there, but we just hated all of that "stuff." My heart is with you during this process. It is so hard. If you need to vent any anger at the disease, getting rid of these particular "scars" (as you so aptly put it), may be a good way to release some of your feelings. Wishing you some sense of peace today, Laurie. Will be thinking of you as always.

Sent by Donna R. in NJ | 11:02 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Thank you stitching the fabric of connection together
again this morning. It is easy to lift when a community comes together and joins together to " lift". I have a vision many hand joined, and lifting you each morning to help you remember you are loved.

Sent by Joan Unterschuetz | 11:07 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, if you're comfortable in giving away all the flotsam and jetsam of Leroy's medical journey right now, you do that. But, nothing says you have to begin cleaning out the closets, his office, and his other spaces in the house right away. In fact, you might even find some comfort in not tackling that job right away.

I won't kid you....when you do decide it's time to clean, it won't be an easy process. There will be tears, laughs, puzzlement (what in the world did he ever do with this?!)and frustration that he was such a pack rat. Even if he wasn't. But, it's all a part of the process.

I hope you're having a beautiful, sunny, end of summer day. In my part of the world, we're bringing in trash cans, lawn furniture, picking up those limbs the wind has already knocked out of the trees, buying water and ice and shocking our pools all in anticipation of Tropical Storm Fay. Please stay a TS, girlie! And please pray for us in NE FL!

I wish you peace.

Sent by Joyce in FL | 11:08 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

Thank you for writing today. I'm sure we were all worried about you. We fellow life givers understand this time all too well.

2 months ago I moved from the apartment that I first moved into after Melody's death.

When I first moved in to that apartment, I had her wheelchair, walker, heating pad, and various other life-giving tools. I didn't want to deal with it. I put them in a corner of the kitchen, and there they sat. I couldn't bear to let them go. I half-heartedly tried, but I didn't succeed.

When I moved 2 months ago, I got rid of the heating pad, the support belt that helped me help Melody up the stairs, and some other odds and ends, but the wheelchair and walker, I moved into storage. I will donate it... at some point. The stuff I kept were hospital footies, my floor pass for the ICU on the day she died, the stuffed teddy bear she always took to the hospital (one I gave her for valentines day in 2003), her first hospital bracelet when we found out she had cancer (that is around my gear shift in the car), and other various small stuff. See...I'm still dealing with stuff after 22 months.

But dear Laurie, take your time in house cleaning. I know some of it makes you angry, some of it makes you sad, some of it makes you smile, but all of it reminds you of Leroy. Ride the experience. Allow yourself to feel.

We're here for you, now and always.

Michael

Sent by Michael (Lifegiver Survivor) Chicago | 11:08 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Hello Laurie:
Leroy and you have not 'failed' though I know it's easy to get caught up in the 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' in such a heartbreaking situation. Both of you did the very best you (anyone!) could under awful circumstances. There's certainly no shame or failure in that.

I miss Leroy's posts already, so I can only imagine the depth of your emotional pain right now. Please know that others in this blog-community understand and care.

P.S. I knew a man who lost his wife to cancer when she was barely 50. He donated most of her personal belongings to charity -- but he kept some of her clothing that was used to create teddy bears for her best friends. Over the top? Maybe, but it was a way to keep her scent around and gave those who loved her something to hug. How about making Leroy throw pillows to hang onto when you watch the news? Just a thought...

Nancy from Canada

Sent by Nancy | 11:09 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Last night I went to my first healing group for cancer survivors. I still hate that term, survivors - makes me feel like I don't belong. But the group brought me something I didn't expect. They divided cancer treatment and healing into two different camps. Cancer treatment is about curing the disease they said, and it can fail. But healing is about healing lifelong and that never has to fail. Leroy's writing and your writing helped to heal. His writing, his ability to stay present with himself and with us was a healing and I hope that he experienced that as well.

Sent by Tess | 11:14 AM ET | 08-20-2008

You have so many other wonderful things to remind you of Leroy...it definitely makes sense to pass those medical things along to someone else who might need them.
Take care,
Maggie

Sent by Maggie, Seattle | 11:17 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I don't have a lot of experience in dealing with the few days after a loved ones death but I do think it is theraputic to remove the medical items that remind you of Leroy's battle. I can't imagine in a million years that a bed pan or a IV stand is going to make you feel closer to Leroy.

I would be a little more slow in removing his personal effects such as clothing or types of things like that. I agree with others that wearing a worn out shirt that smells like Leroy can be very soothing as your heart aches.

Only you know what would be most helpful. If you feel you need all items out, have a friend box them up for you and put them away for a bit. You may find you want to visit them later.

I'm sending you good juju vibes and hoping you are surrounded by people who love and care for you. You and Leroy are so so special to me.

Alexis Redmond

Sent by Alexis Redmond | 11:20 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I could never decide if all the things to clean up and out were a blessing, to keep my mind off the sadness, or whether looking and touching each item just brought back the memories of pain and cancer more.... i hope it's the former for you.

Tried to send a note about this great song by Bruce Springsteen... it's special, and wonderful:
"Lift me up"

When the morning bright
Lifts away this night
In the light above
We will find our love, we will find
our love
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aext39mEYqg

Sent by crow | 11:20 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Thinking of you in this challenging time. Many people are thinking of you.
A big lift today!

Sent by Laura | 11:24 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, It is so good to hear from you-I am thinking of you.
Sasha, you are in my prayers as well.

Sent by Jen | 11:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

It would be nice if someone else would take care of what to throw out, what to donate and hauling it all away... Sometimes the act of cleaning and clearing away clutter-scars is exactly what is called for. Getting rid of the reminders of the cancer could possibly, in time, open up more space for all the beautiful memories of Leroy to come back stronger than the memories of the battle.
Please do this with support of those who are grieving along with you. We all lift you, Laurie.

Sent by NancyGM | 11:25 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie: We are here. While you thank us for these postings, know that we are all so thankful for you. While we have tried to support each other on this blog, you have done the hardest work, in the trenches. And you have done it so well. I only wish that all of us had Laurie-like support as we fight our own cancers, and I am so sad for the fact that we may leave our loved-ones in the same position that you are now. Know that I'm adding my hands to the "lifing" effort, for whatever help it may hopefully provide.

Sent by Sarah B. | 11:27 AM ET | 08-20-2008

I hope you have a friend to help you, Laurie. The cancer 'scars' from Pat's illness went right away.

I know this sounds crazy, well, no, maybe not. There are things of Pat's that I can't let go of yet. His favorite baseball hats from the Detroit Tigers to the University of Michigan. They're still hanging on the hook that he put them on the last time. I dust them but they stay there. His 'wall' of ties that he built in the closet is still there--my daughter won't let go of that either.

It all takes time, Laurie.

Hugs and prayers.

Sent by Kathy Barney from Michigan | 11:27 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
I have been without computer access for the past several days so I'm trying to get my breath after reading the news. I have been carrying around such a heaviness in my chest the past few days, could I have known in some way? The timing of the end of Leroy's journey happened to coincided with that of my mother's last year, so I felt much trepedation when August rolled around. Please know that we are here for you as we have been through out what is different now, is that Leroy no longer needs us. I am a person of faith, so I believe Leroy is doing quite fine and he knows our work continues on. Please be assured we are up to the job, and are here to lift you with the enormity of our collective love. In peace and friendship - Holly

Sent by Holly | 11:29 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
I agree with you that the "scars" should be removed right away. The presence of all that medical stuff only conjures up sad memories. They served their purpose at the time but have none now. The rest of Leroy's stuff can wait until you're strong enough to deal with it.
I helped my brother-in-law with the life giver role in the last weeks of my sister's life. Once she was gone (lung cancer), all the medical equipment, drugs, etc. were removed immediately because the loss of her was so painful none of us needed reminders of her suffering.
Her personal items were another thing. In a way, there was comfort in holding her blanket or shirt up to my face and breathing in the scent of her. I sat in her room with her blanket held to my face, breathing her scent, while hospice readied her for the funeral home. I sat that way for a long time after they took her away.
My brother-in-law gave me most of the concert shirts she purchased when we went to different concerts. Each holds a precious memory for me. Even now, 9 months later, I still sometimes hold one of those shirts to my face and breath in her smell. I dread the day that the smell is no longer there.
My brother-in-law has only recently started the process of going through her things and still has a hard time doing it. Baby steps. . . all in good time as we grow stronger and are able to deal with it.
My thoughts and prayers are with you in this unbelievely sad time in your life.
Baby steps . . .

Sent by Susan from Michigan | 11:29 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

It is so comforting to hear from you. I miss Leroy so much. I know this is such a difficult time for you.

Love to all,
Betty Lewis

Sent by Betty Lewis | 11:31 AM ET | 08-20-2008

My father died suddenly in 1999. My mother (now 92) stayed in the apartment they had shared for decades. Until she moved to assisted living almost four years later, she kept all of his clothes in the closet and in the dresser. His favorite jacket hung in its usual spot. I think seeing such reminders of him were of great comfort to her. Then, when Mom left the apartment, it became my task to go through Dad's things. Even years later, I cry thinking of it, just as my brother and I both found ourselves waking up crying in the days after our father died.
Some of his clothes went to his three grandsons. Most of the rest went through the church of a friend at work, to men who them. I kept his wallet (with his laminated WWII discharge papers) and a few other reminders of someone I miss so much even 9 years later.
Because of Dad's sudden death, I did not have the Scars to deal with, which must be very hard to see. And, as sad as losing a parent is, losing a spouse or child is far worse in the order of life.
As you write, I think of what my husband and son will need to do if my remission (indolent non-Hodgkins lymphoma) ends and they someday need to make the same choices.
1-2-3 Lift.

Sent by Roz | 11:35 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dearest Laurie, those medical supplies will do a world of good for a medical clinic or hospice patient. But you might want to consider having a quilt made out of scraps of Leroy's favorite shirts, sweaters, etc. It is a wonderful reminder of your amazing husband. And it's perfect to cuddle up in during the cold winter nights.

Sent by Mel Sebastiani | 11:39 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
When my mother passed away, Hospice came the next morning to take her tools. I found myself so busy with the funeral planning that I wasn't able to really process it until a few weeks later when I found myself with a huge void. We had focused on caring for my mother for months, and suddenly I had time that I didn't know what to do with. It was hard, but we had so much support from friends and family. Grieving is a personal journey too, and each person goes at their own rate. Do take time for yourself, and as I learned, it is important to see your own doctor at some point, because stress is hard on a person.

Sent by Margaret | 11:45 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

First off.....I'm so sorry for your loss of such a huge part of your life. I didn't write before because, after reading many of the extremely eloquent comments of other "My Cancer" readers, I didn't feel I could say anything to help comfort or cushion the heartbreak I know you feel. My dad passed away, gosh, nearly two years ago, now. I live with my mom now as I did with both my parents while my dad was going through a cascade of illnesses during the last couple of years of his life.

Everyone is so different about decisions of a loved-one's possessions. I called the oxygen company the day after Dad died to take away their huge liquid oxygen tanks, of course, but there are many medical items we still have around...like his walker and canes and crutches. Heck, who knows, I might need them sometime and they remind me of Dad. We donated his electric mobility device to the disability dept. of our local college so that made both Mom and me feel good to know it would be helping somebody else. Other than that, Mom hasn't wanted to do anything else. Dad's clothes are still in the closet and his drawers. His, ever present, caps are hanging on pegs in their usual places in the backroom just as always. I think that's perfectly normal....for Mom...and many other people, I'm sure. I, personally, would feel very sad not seeing that favorite cap each time I passed through the house. It was so much a part of him.

I, also, see nothing wrong with packing most things up nearly right away. It's all such an individual "thing". It's the same thing with mourning. There's not a right or wrong way....or a correct or incorrect amount of time. Mom gets angry at herself at times for continuing to have much difficulty about missing Dad so and not having him here. She thinks she should just be able to "get on with things" like "everybody else" is able to do. Pooh....that's nonsense! By the way, Mom began taking an antidepressant a few days after Dad passed away. I've been taking one for years for reasons other than Dad's illness and death. Even though they, of course, don't make everything terrific....I feel they do give a foundation to stand upon so there's less of a likelihood of falling down into the depths of all the muck that can immobilize a person after a life altering event such as the loss of a dearly loved person. That's just a personal opinion, of course, but I feel it has helped.

Be kind to yourself, Laurie. Two steps forward and, sometimes one or, even, three steps back. The important thing is striving to keep moving in that forward direction. You've got thousands of good thoughts being sent and helping hands reaching out to you. Don't be afraid to latch on to some of those hands whenever you need or want to!

Sent by Nancy | 11:48 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,

We're all different about when to clean house and how much to pitch. I kept my husband's robe for months after he died and threw/gave away everything else. I just needed to smell his scent now and then...

Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 11:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,

I work at a comprehensive cancer center and I am recommending Leroy's blog to all staff so they can see through his eyes, this veryp personal journey. Of course we have our perspective as long-term providers, and the losses are painful, but nothing can draw us closer to our patients, and the gift of life, than being able to see them as individual people, with unique reactions to the process. Leroy has reminded us of the daily challenges in such an eloquent way that we can't help but become better people because of it. We all have a desire to leave this world a better place, but Leroy left us better individuals, through the privilege of knowing him. We will talk about Leroy for a long time to come, and we will encourage others through his wisdom. Thank you for sharing him with us all. We've been truly blessed. Lory Grimes, RN, Clinical Manager, Norris Cotton Cancer Center. North

Sent by Lory Grimes | 11:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie, the hospice equipment has to go back, on to someone else who needs it. It takes up a lot of space and as you said, it is the debris of battle.

But, I have found parting with everything very difficult. Two years after my husband's death, I am just beginning to deal with his clothes and personal belongings. A pair of his pants have hung on a peg at the back of our bedroom door, right where he left them. Just recently, I moved them to a hook in my closet.

Be careful. Take your time. Don't let anyone rush you. Your time schedule is the only one that matters now.

Sent by Marilyn | 11:50 AM ET | 08-20-2008

That's a great idea, Laurie. You set the pace for your healing, and we are here to do any heavy lifting you might need.
Thank you for think enough of all of us to post.

Sent by Lanie | 11:52 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear dear Laurie,
We feel so privileged to lift you up as much as is possible. Along with everyone else, my heart is with you right now. Grief is as unique as each person experiencing it.
With much love,
M.A. Sullivan
Charlottesville, VA

Sent by M.A. Sullivan | 11:56 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
I came late to Leroy's blog. I was just getting to know him through his writing when we lost him. I'm not a cancer victim or survivor and (blessedly) nobody in my family or among my friends is. I found his blog via NPR main page, loved his writing, and began reading it because of Leroy the Writer, not Leroy the Cancer. So it's possible that in my ignorance I could blunder here, but here goes anyway:

You write today of the pain you feel seeing the objects and equipment Leroy needed at the last. As a reader, when I think of the hospital bed he blogged about, I remember noticing that in the last few entries he seemed to me to be putting down the outside world (and his world had been vast, larger than most of us will ever come close to) and coming into a small, compact world-- his bed, in his home with his Laurie nearby and even (referencing his last, sweetly painful post) his stuffed dog.

I do understand that the props around him (bed, commode, etc.) and even the setting (home!) could be seen primarily as triggers to bad memories. But death is deeply personal, the last and most private intimacy we can share. It is rarely beautiful, to be sure, and last way we have of loving someone is not to flinch. The last gift we can give is not to turn away but to look squarely into the face of the person we're losing, however it looks, wherever it rests, hospital, home, hospital bed... wherever, whatever. To be there as long as we can in the only way we finally can, in the midst of the entire ugly equipage. Who see us and yet loves us in our last extremis -- in our unlovely hospital bed, for example, -- that's our finest friend. That we exit this world with one such friend nearby may be all, finally, that we can ask. I don't have such a friend, it won't be like that for me.

So in another way, I hope you can let that cancer equipment serve to remind you of the valiance of you, Laurie, and how you traveled with him as long as you could, surrounded by all those homely tools and props, to the final destination when it was time to go there. I salute you.

Sent by Leslie | 11:58 AM ET | 08-20-2008

Laurie,
From his writings, Leroy hated words like fight and battle when it came to cancer. It implied losing because one didn't try hard enough.
Leroy didn't lose.
He stood up to the Beast and stared it in the face. And all the time, he looked out for us.
He educated, he led, he cared.
And he has all of us to show for it. We loved him and because of Leroy we love you, too and lift you up at this most sad time. That's not losing.
Cancer is just a horrible, ugly thing.
Myrna Baker

Sent by Myrna Baker | 12:03 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Go Laurie Go... get rid of all the stuff that remaind you of the "scars", but try to do all the other daily living things slowly. When my mom died it took me many years to let go, even know after 10 years I still have some of her things. So dear Laurie we are here to lift you 1.2.3 LIFT!!!.
Peace be with you and thank you for writing.
Marelly

Sent by Marelly | 12:03 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Maybe the job of cleaning out all that sickroom gear could be given to some of your close friends or relatives? After all, they want and need opportunities to be useful and "lift you up" in any way possible, too. And as others have said, don't make any hasty decisions about the many reminders of happy days with Leroy. Give yourself plenty of time so that you don't someday regret getting rid of personal items that you or another of Leroy's loved ones would treasure.My mom died just before my diagnosis in Dec. 2005. I only have a few small reminders of her, but they mean so much. I love using her old kitchen utensils & cooking pots and wearing one of her soft shirts and even her socks sometimes!

Sent by Doris | 12:08 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Dearest Laurie,
Cleaning house is a good thing to do. After my Dad passed away from colon cancer, me and my Mom cleaned house. It was hard to do in one way, but in another way it made dealing with things a little easier. It is hard to look around and see those thing's after they are no longer needed. You are heading in the right direction. Hang in there, we are all here for you.

Sent by Teresa in WV | 12:10 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Good for you, Laurie! It also may help to think of such items as "tools," and their job,as completed. My dad would complain if my brothers and I left tools out after we had finished with them, so you are wise to go ahead and return them to the "tool box" so others will be able to find them, if needed!
And Laurie, I do hope that you are getting out of the house as much as you can find time for; frequent changes of scene, as I well know, can greatly assist in clearing the mind and calming the soul.
Please remember that we are all still "lifting"!

Sent by Frances Price | 12:12 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
It's good to hear from you. I totally understand wanting to remove all the hospital items. Rooms get filled with cancer;it's up to the survivors to clean them. I hope that you have friends and family to help you with these tasks. Even one person, standing by with a glass of water and a gentle hug can help so much.

Sent by Libby | 12:12 PM ET | 08-20-2008

Dear Laurie,
The scars are painful. Think of your web friends as surrounding you as you "clean house". Maybe, in a way, we will all be cleaning house.
I wanted to share with you a little story. Last Sat afternoon, some friends of our daughter came to visit. They brought their dog.... A Burnese Mountain Dog named "Shemp". He was huge and full of energy and as he bounded through the door I thought about Leroy. It made me smile because this dog was so full of life. I like to think about Leroy somewhere out there with his very own big dog in a place where he isn't in pain and he's smiling.
Sending love to you