Archive for February, 2016

Two years

Tuesday, February 2nd, 2016

Shannon-lobster

Here’s Shannon standing in front of Ben & Bill’s Chocolate Emporium on September 9, 2012. We were on a leaf-peeping cruise out of Baltimore and had a wonderful time seeing new places and just being together. Part of my famous Cruise, Shannon, and Statue series.

That was our last cruise together. A little more than four months after this photo was taken, we received the news that Shannon had leukemia. It happened all of a sudden. Many people who lose loved ones to cancer can look back and see when it started. Not so for us. She was fine when this picture was taken, she was fine when she single-handedly moved our things from the house in Manteca to Las Vegas, she was fine when we left Pennsylvania, she was fine when we drove from Manteca to Las Vegas, and she was fine when we finally moved into the house. Those were very busy months and she was fine. A week or two after we got here, she started feeling sick and antibiotics didn’t help. Finally, on about February 20, 2013, we went to the emergency room to see why she was feeling so bad. She walked in. And she started dying.

Today, it’s been two years since her death. So much has happened that she has missed. Oh how we miss her.

Katy posted the above picture on Facebook this morning with this comment: “I miss you every day, Mom.”

Paul posted this picture and said: “Here’s one of my favorite pics of Mom. I think of her constantly and miss her desperately. I’m so happy to have such a great support system of family and friends to help me during times like this. The last few years are kind of a hazy blur, but it sure doesn’t feel like she’s been gone for two years. I love you!”

I think I’ve written thousands of words about her life and death. I could come up with several thousand more, but I’ll just say this today: For more than 35 years, she was the light of my life. When she was gone, the only wish of my heart was to go with her. Instead, I’ve spent time over the past two years reflecting on the things she taught me and the things she gave me. Now my only wish is to love and care for the people around me the way she did, and to be happy the way she was happy.

Thank you, Shannon. I love you still.