Lynn died just a few days more than a year ago, I was going through pictures, having some nice memories, and decided to share. This is a very modest attempt.
The music is from David Gilmour's recent album, On an Island.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZFuZNRgDO4
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Relationship Status
Well, there’s a rush of feedback! Sometimes the miracle of social networking via Facebook, et al, is too much fact with too little information.
My wife Lynn died on November 16, 2009. And here I am announcing to the internet world “I am in a Relationship.” It feels odd. Too soon? Only we can answer that question. I was even asked, “Don’t you know that everyone can see that?” Yes I know. I hope that anyone who feels they have a right to care about it will have the consideration to keep their judgments in check.
It feels odd that people would react so strongly while knowing so little about the nature of my relationship with Lynn through the decades we spent together. I’ve had the experience of grieving and mourning her passing for four long years as she went through her various cancer treatments.
It feels odd that people would react so strongly with no knowledge of the 15-year friendship Karen and I have shared since we became co-workers and she was pregnant with her second daughter. It feels odd to have to announce such a thing at all.
In the world that I walked in as a young man things happened at their own pace. People who knew and loved me and those who knew and loved Karen would find this out as it was appropriate. We would be given privacy and space to grow our relationship organically; the success or failure of our relationship would be a private matter of our own private domain.
In a more civilized, respectful, and polite time, I would owe no one an explanation. But this is the internet age. I changed my status to ‘in a relationship’ and fifteen minutes later my 30-year-old son’s mother was calling him from 2000 miles away to find out what was going on. Connected by data, but completely unconnected when it comes to the everyday exchange, the polite tip of the hat, the ‘how-de-do’ that was real small-town social connection. Neither world had claim on factual, kind, compassionate rumor and innuendo, but this new network allows for pain and shame to be spread at the speed of light.
The reason I changed my status to ‘in a relationship’ is that I am. For years, Lynn introduced Karen as ‘Joe’s best friend.’ Lynn was right. I always thought of Lynn as my best friend, back then. I guess she may have meant that Karen was my best friend other than her – my second-best friend.
However it translates, Karen was my confidant. I was hers. Karen went through relationship issues and looked to me to be a no-strings-attached listener, sounding board, and offeror of suggestion. She respected my opinions and my compassion. I was blessed to have her give me the same gifts. We shared the painful secrets of our respective relationships, of our child-raising challenges, of our professional and career problems. We admitted to one another that we had mutual attraction and desire, but agreed that those sorts of feelings must wait until someday when the time might become appropriate.
After some time, as Lynn became more perilously ill and insecure, she changed her opinion about Karen, and forbade me to see or talk with Karen. I disagreed with that edict, and my relationship with Karen was forced underground. Despite the deep but platonic nature of the relationship, as far as Lynn was concerned any contact I had with Karen was tantamount to an affair.
That was the saddest turn of events of all, as it turned Lynn’s feelings about Karen toward undeserved hatred. Karen continued to be my loving confidant, as Lynn’s disease became the all-consuming focus of my existence. I was occasionally able to share with Karen some small insight and compassion into the problems that Lynn endured.
There is no way that I can find fault with Lynn’s preoccupation with her own mortality. It consumed the both of us nearly constantly. We frequently talked about ‘what comes next.’ Lynn half-jokingly went through lists of potential new wives for me. She was always concerned that the kids needed a mother. Karen wasn’t on Lynn’s list of new moms, but she was always my first choice.
Since Lynn’s death Karen and I have spoken more openly about our feelings regarding Lynn, our respective children, and our relationship with each other. We have confessed to each other the long-held desire to be together. The things that we had known all along were shared as obvious truths.
We agree on so much. We have a wonderful agreement about the value of consistency and unconditional love for our children. We have respect and admiration for one another when looking at our very different life experiences. Our children are different enough in age to be interesting and wonderful to each other in mutually beneficial ways that will foster lifelong love. Our kids all love each other. We have fun together.
It’s too late to make a long story short, but I am really in a very powerful relationship with Karen. Sorry if this is the way that social media work these days, but FLASH! Here’s the news. We are in love with one another.
All I ask is for your support and happiness for me. It's nice to smile and laugh together.
My wife Lynn died on November 16, 2009. And here I am announcing to the internet world “I am in a Relationship.” It feels odd. Too soon? Only we can answer that question. I was even asked, “Don’t you know that everyone can see that?” Yes I know. I hope that anyone who feels they have a right to care about it will have the consideration to keep their judgments in check.
It feels odd that people would react so strongly while knowing so little about the nature of my relationship with Lynn through the decades we spent together. I’ve had the experience of grieving and mourning her passing for four long years as she went through her various cancer treatments.
It feels odd that people would react so strongly with no knowledge of the 15-year friendship Karen and I have shared since we became co-workers and she was pregnant with her second daughter. It feels odd to have to announce such a thing at all.
In the world that I walked in as a young man things happened at their own pace. People who knew and loved me and those who knew and loved Karen would find this out as it was appropriate. We would be given privacy and space to grow our relationship organically; the success or failure of our relationship would be a private matter of our own private domain.
In a more civilized, respectful, and polite time, I would owe no one an explanation. But this is the internet age. I changed my status to ‘in a relationship’ and fifteen minutes later my 30-year-old son’s mother was calling him from 2000 miles away to find out what was going on. Connected by data, but completely unconnected when it comes to the everyday exchange, the polite tip of the hat, the ‘how-de-do’ that was real small-town social connection. Neither world had claim on factual, kind, compassionate rumor and innuendo, but this new network allows for pain and shame to be spread at the speed of light.
The reason I changed my status to ‘in a relationship’ is that I am. For years, Lynn introduced Karen as ‘Joe’s best friend.’ Lynn was right. I always thought of Lynn as my best friend, back then. I guess she may have meant that Karen was my best friend other than her – my second-best friend.
However it translates, Karen was my confidant. I was hers. Karen went through relationship issues and looked to me to be a no-strings-attached listener, sounding board, and offeror of suggestion. She respected my opinions and my compassion. I was blessed to have her give me the same gifts. We shared the painful secrets of our respective relationships, of our child-raising challenges, of our professional and career problems. We admitted to one another that we had mutual attraction and desire, but agreed that those sorts of feelings must wait until someday when the time might become appropriate.
After some time, as Lynn became more perilously ill and insecure, she changed her opinion about Karen, and forbade me to see or talk with Karen. I disagreed with that edict, and my relationship with Karen was forced underground. Despite the deep but platonic nature of the relationship, as far as Lynn was concerned any contact I had with Karen was tantamount to an affair.
That was the saddest turn of events of all, as it turned Lynn’s feelings about Karen toward undeserved hatred. Karen continued to be my loving confidant, as Lynn’s disease became the all-consuming focus of my existence. I was occasionally able to share with Karen some small insight and compassion into the problems that Lynn endured.
There is no way that I can find fault with Lynn’s preoccupation with her own mortality. It consumed the both of us nearly constantly. We frequently talked about ‘what comes next.’ Lynn half-jokingly went through lists of potential new wives for me. She was always concerned that the kids needed a mother. Karen wasn’t on Lynn’s list of new moms, but she was always my first choice.
Since Lynn’s death Karen and I have spoken more openly about our feelings regarding Lynn, our respective children, and our relationship with each other. We have confessed to each other the long-held desire to be together. The things that we had known all along were shared as obvious truths.
We agree on so much. We have a wonderful agreement about the value of consistency and unconditional love for our children. We have respect and admiration for one another when looking at our very different life experiences. Our children are different enough in age to be interesting and wonderful to each other in mutually beneficial ways that will foster lifelong love. Our kids all love each other. We have fun together.
It’s too late to make a long story short, but I am really in a very powerful relationship with Karen. Sorry if this is the way that social media work these days, but FLASH! Here’s the news. We are in love with one another.
All I ask is for your support and happiness for me. It's nice to smile and laugh together.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Update November 5, 2009
Friends, family, everyone in the world;
I apologize for the lapse in communication. Things have changed rapidly, then reached a plateau, and now appear poised for another rapid change.
Lynn has had some lucid moments in the past days, but spends most of the time in deep sleep or disturbing hallucinations. (Some of them are not so disturbing. Happy ghost children running and hiding from her was fun for her, and yesterday she saw an enjoyable flying monkey going by the bedroom window.) Most of her hallucinations – if the really are such – include you folks. She sees crowds of friends and family around, asking questions, and giving support.
Her vital signs, as measured by Blood pressure and pulse, remain strong. She has a strong body under the cancer. Her real vital signs – measured by such things as urine and such – tell a very different story. Lynn has days left, but thinks that each breath is her last. She is in excruciating pain despite the efforts of the Hospice team. Much of that pain they attribute to the emotional struggle.
Lynn has not yet found peace with the ultimate outcome. She cries out for the ability to hug her children and give them comfort. She has not accepted their need to give her comfort.
Lynn has always been a strong and self-determined woman. Giving herself over to my care, to the care of God, or to the universe has proved a huge challenge for her.
Please continue to care for her in your prayers, meditation, or other positive thoughts.
I apologize for the lapse in communication. Things have changed rapidly, then reached a plateau, and now appear poised for another rapid change.
Lynn has had some lucid moments in the past days, but spends most of the time in deep sleep or disturbing hallucinations. (Some of them are not so disturbing. Happy ghost children running and hiding from her was fun for her, and yesterday she saw an enjoyable flying monkey going by the bedroom window.) Most of her hallucinations – if the really are such – include you folks. She sees crowds of friends and family around, asking questions, and giving support.
Her vital signs, as measured by Blood pressure and pulse, remain strong. She has a strong body under the cancer. Her real vital signs – measured by such things as urine and such – tell a very different story. Lynn has days left, but thinks that each breath is her last. She is in excruciating pain despite the efforts of the Hospice team. Much of that pain they attribute to the emotional struggle.
Lynn has not yet found peace with the ultimate outcome. She cries out for the ability to hug her children and give them comfort. She has not accepted their need to give her comfort.
Lynn has always been a strong and self-determined woman. Giving herself over to my care, to the care of God, or to the universe has proved a huge challenge for her.
Please continue to care for her in your prayers, meditation, or other positive thoughts.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Update - October 18, 2009
Joe here - Just wanted everyone to know that Lynn has decided to end chemo. She's gone beyond curative efforts and has moved to hospice care, in our home. The doctors and nurses of the hospice team are trying to manage her pain and provide some quality of life in her remaining time. We do not have any idea how much time that is, but the target is to enjoy Christmas with the kids.
She's been in excruciating pain these past few days, even got an ambulance trip to the ER a couple of nights ago. No more hospitals. No more tests or invasive treatment. We pray that the pain is managed soon and that she is able to enjoy some good days with friends and family.
Her Mom is here, and her brother arrives on Tuesday.
From me, thank you for all of the support - prayers, love, financial, and otherwise. No amount of thanks is enough to express my astonishment at how wonderful human beings can actually be.
She's been in excruciating pain these past few days, even got an ambulance trip to the ER a couple of nights ago. No more hospitals. No more tests or invasive treatment. We pray that the pain is managed soon and that she is able to enjoy some good days with friends and family.
Her Mom is here, and her brother arrives on Tuesday.
From me, thank you for all of the support - prayers, love, financial, and otherwise. No amount of thanks is enough to express my astonishment at how wonderful human beings can actually be.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Lynn's status - September 22, 2009
Dear friends, family, and loved ones,
Joe here. It has been a while since I sent out any sort of email regarding Lynn’s condition. Now seems like a good time to do so.
It has been three-and-a half years since Lynn was given a terminal cancer diagnosis. At the time they gave her 6-20 months to live, based on the statistics for her cancer. She still feels like she has at least that long to go, and is working on making the best of the time.
Lynn’s original rectal cancer has since spread to her liver, tons of lymph nodes, ribs, and vertebrae. She has undergone seven different regimens of Chemo, and more radiation than any body should ever see. Through it all she has managed to maintain a positive outlook and has aggressively managed her own care. In March she had an intrathecal pain pump surgically implanted so that she could manage the chronic pain with the least amount of drugs.
In early August Lynn took our two kids, Robbie and Jackie (now 7 and 6 years old) and our wonderful nanny Morgann Smith to Vermont. It was to be a two-week vacation with family and old friends. A few days into the visit, Lynn noticed a marked increase in her back pain. The next day she felt weakness in her legs. A few trips to the emergency room later emergency surgery was performed. The tumor in her T10 vertebra had grown to the point where it had compressed her spinal cord, removing all sensation from the waist down. (If you draw a line across the bottoms of your shoulder blades, that’s about where it is.) Lynn was paralyzed.
The surgeons removed as much of the tumor as they felt appropriate and stabilized the spine with rods and screws extending two above and two below T10. Serious surgery, to say the least. Lynn spent the next week in the Intensive care unit at Fletcher Allen Hospital. After she had stabilized enough to move out of the ICU she spent a week in Fletcher Allen. She was completely unable to move her feet or legs, and had no feeling at all below her waist. A week in Fletcher Allen and she was mover to the inpatient rehab facility. The goal was simply to get her to the point where she could sit for long enough to fly home. The pain was excruciating.
The kids and I flew home so that they could start school and have some sort of normalcy in their scary world. Lynn was left with abundant family and friends who came to visit and support her. After a month in the rehab facility in Vermont, Lynn flew home, accompanied by a physical therapist from the VT hospital.
Lynn arrived in Salt Lake and has ended up at the inpatient rehab facility at Intermountain Medical Center. The goal now is to get her able to move in and out of her wheelchair and have enough upper body strength to be somewhat independent. She has been able to move her legs, but can’t yet feel if they are moving or where they might be. She describes it as feeling like a floating torso. The therapists are encouraged by her progress, though, and haven’t ruled out the possibility that she may walk again. We are trying to get the house ready for her arrival, with a stair lift, ramps, and an accessible shower.
One of the trials/blessings through all of this is that I have been unemployed. Blessing because I have been able to take care of the kids, trial in that we are essentially broke. The outpouring of love and caring has been a bit overwhelming. I told Lynn, “I was always taught to give. Nobody teaches you how to receive.” I’m learning. Our dear friend Laurie Rehmer has been coordinating folks in Salt Lake to help us out with the building and retrofitting of the house, and even some fund-raising to help with the expenses. I’m not happy to be in such a position of needing help, but I am truly touched by how much people really do want to help.
Lynn will be in the rehab for a week or so more. Her address is:
Lynn Laberge
Intermountain Medical Center
Room 1225
5121 S. Cottonwood Street
Murray, UT 84157
Joe here. It has been a while since I sent out any sort of email regarding Lynn’s condition. Now seems like a good time to do so.
It has been three-and-a half years since Lynn was given a terminal cancer diagnosis. At the time they gave her 6-20 months to live, based on the statistics for her cancer. She still feels like she has at least that long to go, and is working on making the best of the time.
Lynn’s original rectal cancer has since spread to her liver, tons of lymph nodes, ribs, and vertebrae. She has undergone seven different regimens of Chemo, and more radiation than any body should ever see. Through it all she has managed to maintain a positive outlook and has aggressively managed her own care. In March she had an intrathecal pain pump surgically implanted so that she could manage the chronic pain with the least amount of drugs.
In early August Lynn took our two kids, Robbie and Jackie (now 7 and 6 years old) and our wonderful nanny Morgann Smith to Vermont. It was to be a two-week vacation with family and old friends. A few days into the visit, Lynn noticed a marked increase in her back pain. The next day she felt weakness in her legs. A few trips to the emergency room later emergency surgery was performed. The tumor in her T10 vertebra had grown to the point where it had compressed her spinal cord, removing all sensation from the waist down. (If you draw a line across the bottoms of your shoulder blades, that’s about where it is.) Lynn was paralyzed.
The surgeons removed as much of the tumor as they felt appropriate and stabilized the spine with rods and screws extending two above and two below T10. Serious surgery, to say the least. Lynn spent the next week in the Intensive care unit at Fletcher Allen Hospital. After she had stabilized enough to move out of the ICU she spent a week in Fletcher Allen. She was completely unable to move her feet or legs, and had no feeling at all below her waist. A week in Fletcher Allen and she was mover to the inpatient rehab facility. The goal was simply to get her to the point where she could sit for long enough to fly home. The pain was excruciating.
The kids and I flew home so that they could start school and have some sort of normalcy in their scary world. Lynn was left with abundant family and friends who came to visit and support her. After a month in the rehab facility in Vermont, Lynn flew home, accompanied by a physical therapist from the VT hospital.
Lynn arrived in Salt Lake and has ended up at the inpatient rehab facility at Intermountain Medical Center. The goal now is to get her able to move in and out of her wheelchair and have enough upper body strength to be somewhat independent. She has been able to move her legs, but can’t yet feel if they are moving or where they might be. She describes it as feeling like a floating torso. The therapists are encouraged by her progress, though, and haven’t ruled out the possibility that she may walk again. We are trying to get the house ready for her arrival, with a stair lift, ramps, and an accessible shower.
One of the trials/blessings through all of this is that I have been unemployed. Blessing because I have been able to take care of the kids, trial in that we are essentially broke. The outpouring of love and caring has been a bit overwhelming. I told Lynn, “I was always taught to give. Nobody teaches you how to receive.” I’m learning. Our dear friend Laurie Rehmer has been coordinating folks in Salt Lake to help us out with the building and retrofitting of the house, and even some fund-raising to help with the expenses. I’m not happy to be in such a position of needing help, but I am truly touched by how much people really do want to help.
Lynn will be in the rehab for a week or so more. Her address is:
Lynn Laberge
Intermountain Medical Center
Room 1225
5121 S. Cottonwood Street
Murray, UT 84157
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