It’s my 29th birthday:-) 29 years ago, my sweet mama wore pink to the hospital, hoping that she was going to give birth to a little girl named Caitlyn...and she did. So began a beautiful lifetime of friendship between my mama, my daddy and me. Today, I feel overwhelmingly blessed to be alive, to be older, and to be 29 (it sounds so sexy and mature!) My life is rich and full and sad at times (more on that in another post), and I don’t know if I’ve ever been more thankful to have a birthday. Today it is painfully, beautifully clear that joy and sorrow can be stunningly entwined, as I miss my mom more today than ever and yet I am bursting with joy over everything I have to celebrate: my friendship with my dad, my romantic adventure with my hubby, my three super-sons, my priceless friendships with my brothers and their ladies, my sweet gramma, and my amazing extended family on all sides (all you cousins, aunts and uncles know who you are!), my church family and Triad family and my friends who have stood by me through a lifetime of thick and thin. Oh, and my puppy too! And books, my kindle, paper, new pens, cake, thai food, running (which I get to start again as long as I get the go-ahead from my doc tomorrow), camping, rain, thunder, the color pink, TOMS, People Magazine, New Girl, The Bachelor, dinner with friends and daffodils (that will forever remind me of my mama). Life truly is so sweet.
On this momentous day in my life, I have no deep, spiritual thoughts to share, so I thought I’d leave you with a few gems from my little boys (all three of them). These truly are their words. I could not have come up with these pearls:
Liam: “It is good to have pictures of Grammie to look at when we miss her. You should always take pictures of the people you love.”
Liam: “The best presents on your birthday are hugs and kisses. Lots of them!”
Liam: “It’s hard not to fall in love with a beautiful girl, so I just can’t help it.”
Sawyer: “It’s good to be adorable.”
Sawyer: “All girls are princesses.”
Everett: “Love you. All done.”
So, may you take pictures of your loved ones, give lots of hugs and kisses, fall in love whenever you get the chance, practice being adorable, treat girls like princesses and love until all is said and done. Love you all, and thank you for the birthday wishes!
An update, some thank you's and a few deep thoughts
It has been far too long since I've written a blog post, mainly because my emotions have been wild and crazy and very inconsistent since I last wrote anything. I've felt extreme gratitude and thankfulness and joy right alongside grief and confusion and fear. I have not been able to figure out a cohesive or pervading lesson/thought that God is trying to give me and that has stymied my writing. So I decided to just do an update about the craziness of the last three weeks, and I know that it will become clear (as always) how intimately God has been involved in every waking moment.
On Sunday, March 17th, Ryan and I packed up the boys and headed for Seaside. My pre-op appointment was March 20th at OHSU, so we wanted to enjoy some family time before I was attached to IV’s. My amazing gramma, Marlene, reserved us a place right on the beach and we had a blast. I was truly able to forget everything for a few days and just thoroughly enjoy my family. We went to aquariums, arcades and fun stores. We ate LOTS of sea food and even had a beautiful, sunny day building sandcastles on the beach. Our boys talked non-stop and delighted us with their fun thoughts (Liam-which girl in his class he was going to marry, Sawyer-what animal he was going to be when he grew up, Everett-pure gibberish). On the evening before we had to leave, I went on a run for a few miles alongside the crashing waves. My beautiful friend, Sarah Turnage, had told me to imagine that each wave was like God’s endless love falling down on me, and I truly felt him pouring his love and consistency into my soul.
And so we packed up, and I headed to the hospital to become a human pin cushion. For those of you who have had surgery before, you know that pre-op really just means the medical professionals try to figure out how many ways they could poke and prod every part of your body. My wonderful in-laws watched the boys as Ryan and I laughed our way through the process. Ryan has been by my side through every step of this crazy journey, and one of the best gifts he gives me, besides his unwavering love, is the gift of laughter. We have laughed our way through many a dark and scary time.
They sent me home with some devil-juice that would make me feel like my insides hated me, and we went home to the amazing hotel that Laurie and Doug Dean had arranged for us to have through our OHSU stay. That night could have been one of the worst in my life. I was really REALLY sick to my stomach because of the medicine that was cleaning me out, Everett spiked a very high fever and Liam’s throat started swelling (he has been fighting strep throat for weeks). But I truly felt a peace that passes understanding. God was my companion through every minute of that long night. I didn’t sleep for even a moment, but I prayed a lot, watched clips of The Ellen Show and Bones, and researched what kind of puppy I should get some day. When our 4:00am wake-up time FINALLY rolled around, I was feeling jittery and tired, but also ready to get this surgery DONE!
We dropped the boys off with my in-laws again and headed to the hospital. Because I spent much of the following days in a drugged fog, I will give you a montage of my OHSU stay: I was gripped with fear right before they wheeled me away. They had had a really hard time getting an IV in because I was dehydrated and had low blood pressure. I suddenly felt this was a bad sign (even though I don’t really believe in signs) and thought that they were going to find ovarian cancer when they opened me up. I believe I was under attack by Satan. Ryan prayed over me until they wheeled me away and once again, I felt peace and determination. The surgery went perfectly; they did not find anything scary and they were able to locate and eliminate the spot on my liver. The doctors were all thrilled that they had pulled off a total hysterectomy and a liver ablation in one surgery, and that everything went exactly as we had all hoped. I received excellent care from the doctors, nurses and even house-cleaning staff. One of the major ways God has taken care of me and guided my path through my cancer journey is by giving me the most phenomenal doctors.
I spent two days in the hospital, two days in the hotel in Portland and then lots of days on my couch at home after Ryan surrounded me with pillows and blankets and drove me slowly, thoughtfully, carefully home. I had eight incisions all over my abdomen and bruises up and down my arm (five IV pokes and one arterial line!), but being home was magical! And here is where my thank you’s come in. I have been surrounded by care and love once again. God’s love and provision has come to me through the hands of his followers. My husband has met my every need and kept my spirits up through every painful moment. My in-laws watched the boys while I was in surgery. My dad and gramma tirelessly cared for my three (SICK) boys until Ryan and I could take over. I had numerous visitors from the Portland area while I was in the hospital and in the hotel. I had dear friends take days of work to be by my side, many of whom traveled from Klamath to be with Ryan while I was in surgery and me as I was recovering. I have had family and friends come stay with me for days at a time to help with boys and grocery shopping and pretty much everything since I couldn’t lift a thing for two weeks. The church has once again provided us with wonderful, healthy meals and a couple of lovely ladies cleaned my house from top to bottom. I have received tons of encouraging emails and texts. I am overwhelmed by the support my family has gotten. Thank you thank you thank you! I don’t feel as if I’ll ever be able to thank everyone sufficiently.
But hopefully I will have lots of time to give it a shot! On March 29th, I got a call from the gynecological oncology department at OHSU. The pathology from my hysterectomy came back and it was completely clear! Meaning...I’m officially cancer-free! Eight months ago, I was given the news that my prognosis was not good. People do not often survive stage IV metastatic breast cancer. God has worked a miracle in me, and I want to spend my life (however long it may be), praising his name and serving people.
To my surprise, it has actually been hard to accept this, and I think it may be a process to start to live as though I am healed. I do not want to live like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I want to move forward with the knowledge that life is fleeting and that I am not guaranteed a long and healthy life, but I do not want to make every decision out of fear; I do not want to have “but-what-if-I’m-going-to-die-soon” influence my every thought and action. My beautiful and wise friend, Lauren, put it perfectly when she said, “It’s ok to count on living.”
I’m going to wrap up with one of the ponderings I’ve had the last few weeks. I have had some well meaning people say things like, “Well, I always knew God would heal you” or “God has rewarded you for your faith.” The reality is, I was never guaranteed healing, and I am still not promised a long and happy life. Also, my faith is not the reason I am cancer free, because I never placed my faith in being cancer free. I’ve had to have faith that God is good and is who he says he is no matter what the outcome. My mom was a powerful woman of faith, and while I think God healed her and prolonged her life many times, he did not spare her from dying of cancer. I have friends right now who are faithfully clinging to God as they receive really bad news about their cancer battle. So I’ve wondered what my response is to this of-course-God-healed-you mentality, and I keep coming back to a verse I discovered through a Beth Moore Bible study I’m in. Saul’s son Jonathan is about to go against a whole Philistine regiment with just his armor bearer by his side. He says, “Perhaps the Lord will act in our behalf. Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few” (1 Samuel 14:6b). I love this, because he doesn’t say that he knows the Lord will make them victorious. He says perhaps he will save them, but he believes that the Lord absolutely can save them no matter what they face. As I read the stories of the people in the Bible and I look at the people who are fighting all sorts of battles around me today, I’ve realized that God rarely spares us from the journey to our deliverance. AND sometimes that deliverance is not life on this earth. The Israelites had to fight horrific battles time and time again, Mary and Joseph faced public shame in order to stay together and have Jesus, Jesus had to endure death and separation from God, Paul had to spend lots of time in prison and was eventually martyred, my mom had to fight a painful battle that she lost here on earth, I had to had many of my body parts removed, chemo-ed, radiated and reshaped. The journey to deliverance is often unimaginably hard, but the reward comes from believing that God can save us no matter what we face, he loves us enough to provide us salvation through Jesus, and he has made our souls invincible if we accept this gift.
May you feel God’s unwavering presence and love wherever you are on your journey! Thank you all for being God’s hands, feet and voice to me as I’ve gone through my journey and I am excited to keep writing as I pass into the next chapter.
Missing Mama
54 years ago today, my mom was born early and weighed only 5 pounds. Such a small start led to such a huge life. I have been wondering for weeks how I’m supposed to get through this day, her birthday. There have been many moments, especially yesterday, in which I totally understood the term “grief-stricken”, because sometimes her absence and the memories of the end of her life are like a sucker-punch to my gut that leaves me breathless with stinging tears in my eyes. Even though it is my nature to look on the bright side of everything, I do not want to minimize the loss that we all feel now that she’s gone. Her death left a hole that is equal to our love for her and her love for us...that’s big. So today, on her birthday, as I struggle to know what do to with myself, I want to fight the urge to avoid and distract. I want to embrace my loss and celebrate her life.
The things that really hurt now that she’s gone:
My phone. I still pick it up to call her, and I still check to see if she’s texted me. We were truly in constant communication, and sometimes the world seems really quiet without her voice in my life.
My boys. Watching them miss her breaks my heart. Liam can express his thoughts more eloquently, which is a blessing and pierces me at the same time. Sawyer has a harder time understanding, and so there are painful conversations in which he tries to figure out once again why he can’t find Grammie. And as Everett grows, I ache to have her see him.
My family. We are all grappling with her death together and apart, and I constantly wish I could ease their pain. My dad, my brothers and their families, my husband, my gramma and mom's siblings are all feeling the daily impact of our catastrophic loss. Our pain mingles together as we support each other.
My identity. My relationship with my mom was and is a huge part of who I am and how I understood myself to be. Now that she’s gone, I often find myself struggling to know how to act or respond to things.
My faith. In many ways, my faith has grown since my mom died, but there is now a bittersweet aspect to it. I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my faith does not protect me from intense pain and heartache. I’ve had to have some awful, wrenching talks with God and have had to learn to trust him in a way that takes painful abandon of understanding and control.
While all of that hurts a lot, I am my mother’s daughter after all, and I cannot let myself dwell there for too long. For one of the greatest gifts my mama gave me was a beautiful, baggage-free mother/daughter relationship. I truly have a lifetime of sweet memories with her that bring me joy and not pain. She loved me unconditionally and fervently every day of my life. And she was an exceptional woman of God who let me learn from her triumphs and her mistakes. So I want to do what I used to do on her birthday cards. I want to celebrate the things I love about my mama.
Christina Runge Wehr could be light-hearted, but she did not take the commitments and the people in her life lightly. When she was in high school, she promised God that she would read her Bible every day. And then she went on to truly read her Bible EVERY DAY! From my earliest memories on, she packed her Bible everywhere with her. I am so thankful for that lesson in commitment to God.
She celebrated the people in her life. My brothers and I were the constant recipients of cards, notes, texts and words of affirmation from our mother. One text she sent me said, “I truly am one of the most blessed moms and grammies ever! I love you all, my extraordinary children and in-laws and grandbabies. You make me RICH!” I got these kind of texts all the time. She thoughts of others before herself, and she never missed a chance to make someone feel special.
Her life was full of music. Ryan used to joke that no matter what subject we were talking about, my mom probably knew a silly camp song about it. And he was right. Growing up, our house was full of songs about riding in the car, taking a bath, ostriches, kangaroos, and cleaning up our toys as well as songs about Jesus and faith as well as songs from all the classic musicals and operas. Mama truly had a song for every occasion.
There are so many things about my mama that I love that it’s hard to even know what to say. She was a unique and lovely woman of God who showed courage, grace and faith through intense struggle. She loved her husband, her children, her grandkids, her family, her friends and her students more than she loved her own life. She also loved Disneyland, camping, hiking, The Chronicles of Narnia, Dean Koontz books, Charlie Brown, the color green, shopping, jewelry, journals, singing on the worship team, salmon, creme brulee, cribbage and poetry. She was not a fan of the coast, going to women’s conferences or lavender (the color or the fragrance). She couldn’t see her phone without her glasses, so she sent her kids really funny texts that were so auto-corrected that they didn’t make sense. She had a hard time forgiving anyone who ever hurt the people she loved and she was forever devoted to the people who helped the people she loved. She loved God with all her heart, and she truly had a very personal relationship with Jesus. She really was one of those people who forever changed people’s lives just by being a part of their story.
I want to end with a thought from an amazing book about loss I’m reading called A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser.
He says, “The soul is elastic, like a balloon. It can grow larger through suffering. Loss can enlarge its capacity for anger, despair, and anguish, all natural and legitimate emotions whenever we experience loss. Once enlarged, the soul is also capable of experiencing greater joy, strength, peace and love. What we consider opposites--east and west, night and light, sorrow and joy, weakness and strength, anger and love, despair and hope, death and life--are no more mutually exclusive than winter and sunlight. The soul has the capacity to experience these opposites, even at the same time.”
Being raised and loved by my mama already stretched my soul. Then being by her side as she valiantly battled cancer, stretched it even more. And now the grief I feel has stretched it painfully further. But the final gift she and God have given me, is that my stretched-out soul truly does have more room and depth to experience all the things mama loved here on earth: family, friends, the outdoors and music...and shopping. Mama would not want me to forget shopping:-)
Happy birthday, Mama! I love you.
