Laurie -- Those little bags couldn't contain Leroy and don't contain you. They are too restrictive for everything you both represent. It's not the illness; it's the life.

Sent by Leslie Bjorncrantz | 7:20 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,

I am admiring your ability to keep pushing through this very difficult time. I would be feeling a lot like digging a hole, crawling into it, and pulling a rock over top of me. (Well, that is how I'm feeling these days, to put it mildly.) Still it's amazing how it's possible to put one foot in front of another and do the next thing. (Whatever that is.) Just staying alive is a day-to-day next thing, for me, anyway, while dealing with immense grief, which oddly enough is also accompanied by immense anger. Sometimes I think I am going to implode or explode, the feelings are so huge and overwhelming.

My heart goes out to you as you cope with all these daily reminders of Leroy's & your experience with trying to hold back and eradicate and deal with cancer.

Leroy's heart and courage and strength and humor were and are still enormous. His being and soul still send out ripples of "life and living" to this day. Your heart, courage, strength, and humor, are also strong ripples sending the message of coping each day, with awareness, honesty, courage.

Still here, lifting in spirit.

Heartlight,

Kim & Virgie

Sent by Kim & Virgie | 8:02 AM ET | 09-24-2008

His inspiration to others came from the heart.

Those cancer reminders probably will be lurking where you least expect them for a long time to come. It's part of your history and we all have to accept even the difficult parts of our lives.

Enjoy the other surprises - pictures you didn't know you had (I found a box this summer), a song you loved on the radio - even new surprises.

Cancer sucks!

Sent by Liz L. | 8:08 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,

Leroy was a Hxxx of a fighter and that is what kept him going surpassing the expectations of the medical wizards. It was his ability to continue to fight that brought us to the LA and now the L and L A. It is time to get rid of them, and not into the sewer system.

1-2-3- lifting.

I found something out yesterday. I am 57 yrs old, and I am one step from a total knee replacement. Hopefully conservative treatment will buy me some time until next December (2009). I am getting married next year, on Maui in March so the whales will be there. I plan to have one meal at the Aloha Grill next to the Old Lahiana Luau and even with the rules no alcoholic beverages on the porch. A mai tai and I are going to toast Leroy on the porch. I'll explain the importance of the toast.

Sent by Sue Chap | 8:11 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Because I miss Leroy (for example, I want to hear what he would say about this financial mess), I realize how much more you must miss him.
Because I have lost people I loved very much, I know that it gets easier...but it never goes away...but still, with all the pain, I'm glad they were such important parts of my life

Sent by Tara | 8:23 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, sweet best friend of Leroy's. The Beast could not even touch the big heart of that very special man who endeared us all to him. Big hugs to you today in what must have been/is a big grief reminder of this loss. Here is lifting you up you up from the darkness into the light of a new Autumn day.

Laurie Hirth - My heart goes out to you...you are such a sweetheart...know that, please, and realize you are taking care of that heart, mind and body now...Neil would want it so...be easy on yourself and let others love and care for you. It is now your time for this. I guarantee all will be well in time my friend. you will see, your faith and letting others help will carry you through. Remember, surrendering and letting others help is NOT a sign of weakness and failure it is a sign of strength and victory. This is how God works to heal us; through others. Isolation will lead one to misery which will atrophy our spirit. You have so much to give...your words on this blog have helped to transform my life. Just think how you can help others again some day. You are in my prayers... With Love --Graham from Sag Harbor.

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 8:56 AM ET | 09-24-2008

There are special people like Leroy, and like you...who show the rest of us how we can embrace life and continue living. It's not something anyone would have wished on you, nor that you would have chosen, but the example and the openness is a gift to so many all the same. I am so greatful to have found Leroy here when I did and I know that feeling is echoed by so many lives he (...or rather you all) touched. He made a difference...you make a difference.

Thank you.

Sent by Nichole in FL | 8:57 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Yes, no bag is big enough!

:)

Sent by jenngie | 9:02 AM ET | 09-24-2008

I did not have to deal with any of that because Hospice took all the meds out of the house. I had them sitting in a basket (from 2 years) and they took them all. It was fine with me - one less thing I had to deal with. Hang in there Laurie. You will find new things every day for a long time that you have to deal with.

Sent by Deb from Michigan | 9:12 AM ET | 09-24-2008

When I had my "very bad year" - 10 months actually.... we lost both my in-laws and my mother to cancer. My father was diagnosed with thyroid cancer, a 54 year old brother in law - father of 3 - took a nap 10 days before Christmas and never woke up.

I share this now only because of your topic today... I was the one responsible for those stacks of pills, and instructions and even the carefully written notes by the 3 hospice teams that guided us... In many ways they were the only documentation of the terrifying path we were forced to walk. Unlike our generous and courageous Leroy, in our case we were all too exhausted and frightened to put words to paper to record the journey.

I threw each note, each record, each pharmacy slip away when each of our family died. I wish now that I had kept some of them. In my anger and my grief - it seemed to be the only blow that I could strike at the beast that had taken so much.

I am thinking of you today Laurie, and remembering too.

Sent by E. L. Russell | 9:27 AM ET | 09-24-2008

You know, Laurie, your post today has brought to light something that is a huge problem in cancer care today. The doctors diagnose, prescribe and evaluate. But, there's so much more involved. Who manages the emotions that go along with being told you have cancer and then having to deal with all the treatment, the ups and downs, the pain, etc.? The patient and the patient's spouse. I suspect the doctors have no clue what their patients and families are really going through emotionally and yet, that is a critical part of the treatment. I wish doctors would find better ways to assist patients with the emotional part of cancer.

Sent by Linnea | 9:30 AM ET | 09-24-2008

I am a stage 4 cancer patient and had bags of medicine from previous treatment. As I was tossing these medicine bottles, realized these could impact wild lives...... We take them for our lives, but it could kill many others.
I ended up bringing the bag to my treatment center for safe discard. But better still, a nurse told me that they can use those medicine for people who cannot afford them. My past battle help current battle of somebody else. Hope they do good job.

Sent by Chiyoko | 9:30 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Hi Laurie,
I think your are so right people fighting cancer are so brave. I know my sister was and a year after her death I am still in awe of her strength.

Thank you for your words

Hope you have a peaceful day

Karen

Sent by Karen | 9:32 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Ah, what a lovely image you created. It's so true, a person with cancer is so much more than their physical problems and treatments...So nice to come here every day and read an entry from you Laurie. I have been taken up the last couple of weeks with our secretary at work who is dying of rectal cancer. She has hospice coming to her home now and a very loving family. My job has been to occasionally give care to the caregiver. Cancer is everywhere as always. Had my 3 mo. visit w oncologist last week and he wants me to have a needle biopsy in the breast where the tumor was taken...not what i wanted to hear. Thanks for listening, from Sherri in Texas, BC dx 4-06

Sent by Sherri Eggleston | 9:35 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Good morning, Laurie. Leroy helped so many with that unique strength and humor! What a wonderful legacy that is for him. All those medications--yes, they are such a reminder of it all--the pain, the hope, the struggles, and finally--the acceptance.
Sending love to you today Laurie, Linda

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:41 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Good morning Laurie,

Courage, strength, and humor, such powerful and very necessary words in fighting the cancer battle. It was obvious that Leroy had all three. He helped others to find those also.

I think of Stefanie D. and Leroy both and how they fought the battle. So many courageous people walking this same road.

Isn't it interesting how we all seem to have these little reminders (even if just the bags the medicine came in). My pantry still holds them but some how I just can't seem to pick them up and throw them away. Someday.

Thanks Laurie for being here with us. I am sure that Leroy is missed greatly by you. I know we all miss him.

Sent by dorothy from Oregon | 9:41 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Dear Laurie.........still lifting........still holding you in my heart..........John is getting progressively worse despite his palliative treatments.......very sad day for me today..........it's my wedding anniversary and I get to spend it in the chemo room for five hours watching the nurses pump the poison into John's veins. When I think about Leroy, hell he would find a way to make it into a party, lol.........he had a way of making bad things better.
Thank you again Laurie for sharing your thoughts with us. I look forward to your posts each day.

Prayers to all.

Sent by sasha | 9:44 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie- you are so right! His doctors have agreed that Leroy's amazing life with cancer showed everyone how hugely important one's own attitude can be in charting the course the disease may take. He had such a contagious sense of humor and of the absurd, a fierce commitment to the truth, a generosity of spirit which helped him reach out to others, and a tenacity to life which led him to greet each day with determination and abandon. There's no way to put these things in a bottle. But he shared them with us, as did you, each day as he came back to his computer and to his online community with words of strength. So we all had them too - in his own way, he was a dispensary of faith and courage, humor and grace - we took these in and were better for them all. They were the BEST medicine and we are all so grateful!

Sent by CaroleD | 9:46 AM ET | 09-24-2008

How lovingly and eloquently you expressed yourself in today's note... I have emptied out the unused drugs for both of my parents and for two dear friends; it is a most thought provoking task.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 9:47 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Finding those little reminders of what used to be is tough. Some of the things are to be expected, but some of the items found cut deeper than expected. Stay strong, Laurie, and keep writing.

Sent by Rachel | 9:56 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Dear Laurie,
One thing I have learned is that having a loved one with cancer is worse than having it yourself. After having had cancer five times since age 21 finding out my daughter had Stage 3c uterine cancer and watching how sick she was during treatment was the most difficult thing I have gone through. Yesterday she had her second CT scan since treatment ended last January. We are waiting with hope for good news.
You have lived through that pain and hope with Leroy. Now you are living with the deep pain of loss of the man you dearly loved. I thank God that you are a strong independent woman. Yes, Leroy had a big heart; so do you. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other as the days pass. Thank you for writing. It helps us.
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 10:13 AM ET | 09-24-2008

..and he found that courage, strength and humor with you by his side. You sharing his burden made things so much less overwhelming for him. You carry his heart with your heart( e.e. cummings). You help us patients really understand what it's like for a loved one to grieve- thank you for that gift.

Sent by NancyGm | 10:33 AM ET | 09-24-2008

You are so brave, Laurie. It must have been hard looking at all of those medications with their memories. I can hardly look at the face and head mask that was made for David's radiation. It is grotesque and chilling.

Sasha - God bless you on your anniversary. You are giving John the greatest gift by being with him and sharing his suffering. I know it is the hardest journey, and we are all lifting you with Laurie.

Sent by Tina from Alton, IL | 10:41 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Thanks for your posts on teh blog Laurie. And the prayers continue.

Sent by Geoff | 11:01 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, Those little bags are the first thing I throw away. I can't imagine how many there are after two years. Don't want to know. I do know we fight as hard as we can, we kick and scratch, and much more. The Cancer always seems to have the upper hand or you get lucky and have some small period that is, well, almost normal. I believe we fight down to the the last drop of Blood, the last bit of strength, and we always will. Thoughts, Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:31 AM ET | 09-24-2008

He truly was a big man!

Thinking of you Laurie.

Sent by Lori | 11:37 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Yes, and Leroy has taught me that! Thank you, Leroy! And, thank you Laurie for continually writing us...

Sent by sue | 11:37 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Isn't it amazing how memories are made even in the smallest ways. Like hearing a snippet of a song from years gone by that makes you hum it for the rest of the day.
Laurie, Alicia Keys has a song called "Superwoman" on her last cd. The chorus makes me think of you...it goes
"Even when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
with an S on my chest
oh yes, Im a superwoman"

Keep flying sister...it gets better.
Liz Z

Sent by liz Zimmerman | 11:55 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,

My husband's brother received his cancer diagnosis around the same time Leroy started his blog. We have been so grateful to get some insight into the struggles of a cancer patient. Now I find myself even more drawn to the blog as I know my sister-in-law may soon be in your shoes. I thank you for the time you take to write. It touches my heart.

And just for the record, we had BBQ burgers for dinner last Friday.

Sent by Carolyn Lee | 11:58 AM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, I hope you have some support as you go through Leroy's things- pharmaceuticals etc.While some things may be of comfort, I can imagine it being a hard going. Thinking of you.
Jean

Sent by Jean or Wildjean Hughes | 12:07 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Dear Laurie

Those very aspects of Leroy were his greatest medicine ever!!

No greater acolade can be bestowed on anyone......................

And few can truly warrant them....

Sent by Ron Bye (NH) | 12:16 PM ET | 09-24-2008

In honor of Leroy ... and you, Laurie, and so many, many others here~

"It takes strength to be certain,
It takes courage to have doubts.

It tkes strength to fit in,
It takes courage to stand out.

It takes strength to share a friend's pain,
It takes courage to feel your own pain.

It takes strength to hide your own pain,
It takes courage to show it and deal with it.

It takes strength to stand guard,
It takes courage to let down your guard.

It takes strength to conquer,
It takes courage to surrender.

It takes strength to endure abuse,
It takes courage to stop it.

It takes strength to stand alone,
It takes courage to lean on a friend.

It takes strength to love,
It takes courage to be loved.

It takes strength to survive,
It takes courage to live."
~Sylvia Kelly

I am now in the process of printing out Leroy's blog - from the beginning - and putting it into a three ring notebook. Each day, I read (and underline - LOTS!) a few days of his wonderful essays, in hopes of absorbing and acting upon Leroy's enduring "Life Lessons" (which you are seamlessly carrying on, Laurie). There is so much there; ongoing, vital, deepening and enriching. He continues to encourage and inspire us to pay it forward. Courage, strength and humor ... May these gifts be yours today, Laurie.

With abiding fondness and gratitude,

Sent by Kim Forester, Pullman WA | 12:47 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, I have been here all along but had no ideas or advice for you during this period of grief; what I can do is tell you that you are remembered in my thoughts and prayers and lifting. It is my belief that only love and the passage of time will bring you some relief. Lots of love I'm sending you. Joyce

Charlotte in Rural Ridge, Here's hoping your daughter will get a good report on her scans; Sasha, I hope and pray for peace for you; Laurie Hirth and Kin and Virgie, You are in my prayers. Joyce

Sent by Joyce Hughes | 12:53 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, Isn't it amazing how something so seemingly insignificant as a bag can strike a chord and bring you to a particular time in the struggle you and Leroy have just experienced? It is good that you are ending on a positive note. Courage, strength, humor - those were the very essence of Leroy. Still keeping you in my prayers.

Laurie Hirth - 10 months is a long time to stay strong but the body lets you know when it's time to reach out. May you be blessed with tender, helping hands.

Sent by Jeanne Stevens | 1:55 PM ET | 09-24-2008

A friend has washed and kept the IV tubes, many scores of them, that have fed into her veins the medical cocktails that have kept her alive. (Her disease, though not cancer, is equally as insidious, just slower in taking over.) An artist, she knows that one day soon she'll imagine those tubes into something else.

And so I imagine, too, how all those slender pharmacy bags, once replete with tablets of hope, can be twisted and folded into white origami doves, reminders of Leroy finding peace at last.

From Maureen in Arlington, Va.

Sent by Maureen Doallas | 3:18 PM ET | 09-24-2008

We recognize courage when we see it being played out on the grand stage. We demonstrate courage so grandly in the tiny moments of a genuine life.

Sadness and grief are the bravest ways to feel. Joy, coming after such loss, is even braver still.

Sent by Cory from Cowboy Country | 4:43 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,

I think that's why my friend told me it takes four seasons to get used to the idea that your love will not be coming home. It's in the small things, like bags, that can slap you in the face, kick you in the gut.

Pat was in a different field, but, like Leroy, traveled a lot. It was SO easy at first to make believe that he was just on a trip somewhere. I was used to his being gone. I think that that idea was a bit of a buffer until the reality sunk in; No, he's not coming back.

Such dumb things really, those little things, but they have such power.

Sasha, Happy Anniversary. It sucks and I'm sorry. Pat was buried on our 24th anniversary. Hold on tight while you have John.

Graham, as always, I look forward to hearing from you. You are so succinct, so elegant in your writing. I wish I had your gift.

Hugs and lifting prayers...

Sent by Kathy Barney from MI | 4:58 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,
That is the only real medicine we have for all that we suffer from as humans - the heart. He certainly was one with a big heart. You take up where he left off as you show us day by day how by strength of heart you go on through this dark night.
This poem came to me one dark morning. Perhaps it speaks to that big heart he so courageously lived by. I leave it with you after the signature as an offering of recognition of what you say about Leroy, a potential that we all may hide deep inside. Allan

A Mighty Ocean

My heart is like a mighty ocean,
Much vaster than the widest sea,
Much deeper than the deepest night,
The Soul unfolding Its reality.

Sent by Allan Stocker | 7:49 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie,
I wish for you much strength in the coming months. You will find things and some days they will hit you like a rock, you need to step back and take a deep breath and remember the memory. Find comfort in those special moments when they come to you.
Graham, that was beautiful and thank you for your continued faith and support in me. I wish I could reach out and give you a BIG hug...It was pretty scary yesterday and made me think of how lonely it must have been for Neil before I moved here. I am just so thankful that I was here for him. I take comfort in the love I knew we shared. Those moments when he would call me, ask for me, have some one call me, just knowing I was always there for him gives me great comfort and joy. I remember each night he would tell me to stay close, he wanted to feel me touch him all night long. Wow, such beauty in all of that!
I am just grateful for my family and my friends. They are the ones that comfort me, they are just so far away.
Joyce and Jeanne, thank you too!
I love you all! You have all touched me and supported me in ways that have kept me grounded and hopeful for a future again.
Much love to all, continued prayers!

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 8:07 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Thank you for keeping up the blog. I hope it gives you at least a little comfort. You and Leroy have given hope, comfort, and more than a few laughs to so many.

I live on Maui. I never knew how much the two of you loved it here. I found out when I was listening to the podcast of the memorial. Many nights I wake up and can't get back to sleep and I would always jump on the computer and read Leroy's words of wisdom and marvel at how many lives the two of you had the courage to touch. I am sorry that I will never get to meet him, but know that whenever my friends and I splurge and have lunch at Longhi's we will toast a Maitai to Leroy...and to you as well. Perhaps you will join us sometime.

Aloha

Sent by Tobie Ludwick | 10:12 PM ET | 09-24-2008

Laurie, You are so correct...big, deep wound, slow healing, lasts a lifetime.
We are one year into our loss of Miles Levin at age 19.

Sent by Jon Levin | 11:53 AM ET | 09-26-2008