Are You a Part of the "S" Generation?

Have I piqued your curiosity with the title? I presume a lot of us are fortunate to be a part of the "S" or sandwich generation. Because individuals are living longer, baby boomers have the opportunity of playing an active role in the final chapter of our parents' lives. I just returned from northern Illinois to visit Mom, 87, and Dad, 89. I wanted and needed to see them. Next week, I'll be flying to Corpus Christi, TX, to visit the other side of my so-called "sandwich": Jennifer, John, Luke, and James. My parents and grandchildren never verbally demand my presence or attention but their mere existence tugs unconditionally at my heart. Prior to this visit, I saw my parents the second week of February. I saw Luke and James the last week of January.

Dr. John Dunlop, my parents' doctor who practices in Zion, IL, has authored a book entitled Finishing Well to the Glory of God. Dr. Dunlop is well-versed in geriatrics and also a devout Christian. The target audience is two-fold: people who are nearing the end of their lives and adult children. He cautions all of us to "say all you need to say and leave on a good note." Another reminder is that we can't take "things" with us when we die so concentrate on intangibles such as love, happiness, and compassion. Give those "things" away to people you love and cherish. We should all serve in one capacity or another each day of our lives on earth. His pearls of wisdom from a medical and religious background offer gentle ideas on how to "finish well."

After my retirement from Spoon River College in May 2008, my parents were faced with numerous health challenges which required many changes that at first Mom and Dad did not embrace but needed. Now Anna and Harry are in safe places; I am most grateful. My siblings and I actively served our parents so that this transition would be as smooth as possible. It is always difficult to say good-bye because of life's uncertainties, but I've said everything I need to say to Mom. She's not only Mom but also my dearest friend. Aren't I lucky? I know that Gordy would love to share many things with his parents who died at ages 47 and 74. I can pick up the phone and talk to Mom any time!

Dad who suffers from vascular dementia does not know my name but when I see him, he gets a twinkle in his eye and knows that I am "somebody." We even sing a duet now of "our song" "You are my Sunshine." However, this last visit was different. He looked up from his chair in the nursing home dining area, wrinkled his brow, and asked, "Who are you?" repeatedly. I knew this day would come but it was still difficult. However, I hold his hand, tell him "I love you," and always leave on a good note. The dad I knew is not the same but once again, I'm so grateful to have him around at 89. I'm sure my visits will be more frequent but shorter in duration.

Presently, the younger side of my sandwich finds Luke (6) and James (2). My children and their spouses are a huge component of my life. I enjoy their company, conversations, compassion, and caring ways. However, I'm a goner when it comes to my grandsons. They think Gordy and I are the best! When arriving at the airport, they jump up and down and run into our arms like we are Santa and Mrs. Claus. Now technology has helped lighten the burden of having them live 24 hours driving time away. Affordable phone plans make it possible to communicate any time with them. I never talked with my grandparents who lived in Chicago because it was long distance and cost a lot. We try to Skype so that we can "see" each other on the computer. We can't be there in person but seeing them helps. Just like the cartoon "The Jetsons," we sit by the computer screens. James hugged the screen one day and they both kiss the webcam. Of course I do the same. Technology has been a Godsend.

I'm not a huge fan of flying, but I'll take two flights to get to Corpus. With the help of Southwest Airlines, I arrived 2 hours after Luke's birth in 2004, was present at the birth of James, and will be purchasing a one-way ticket soon for grandson number 3's arrival in June. I have the time and means to make these visits. Once again, I'm blessed. As you have read before in this blog, Gordy and I, like many other baby boomers, are actively engaged as grandparents. When Mom and Dad made a trip to Macomb, they mostly observed activities in our home. Gordy and I "do" things with Luke and James. It is fun!

Knowing that I can drive or take the train in approximately 5 hours to see my parents and get to Corpus in a day is comforting but it would be terrific if the two pieces of bread of my sandwich were closer to me. Sometimes I feel spread a little too thin, but I am so fortunate to be able to see both my parents and grandchildren. We all have our own stories; this is mine.

The Return of Humor and a Pensive Thought

I know things are better as a bit of humor has returned to my life. The other night Diane and I attended a send-off party for Don and Lisa Patterson who are leaving Macomb for Buffalo, NY, where Don has accepted a position as the quarterback coach for the University of Buffalo. After some mingling and a toast to Don and Lisa, it time to explore the hors d'oeuvres. I poured a glass of wine, put some food on my plate, and sat down to enjoy a modest sampling of food. You need to get this visual. I'm sitting there with a plate of food in front of me and a glass of wine to my right. I know the drill here. I need liquid with every bite of food so off I went. A piece of meatball and sip of wine. A bite of a chicken wing and a sip of wine. A bite of salad and a sip of wine. Then it dawned on me. This was in fact my usual routine except I inadvertently substituted wine for water, and this was not going to play out well unless I changed my drink of choice. Fortunately for me, Diane saw my dilemma and brought over a large glass of water which ensured a sober ride home. It was another example of coming to grips with change in my life.

Saturday I took an hour walk outside followed by a little racquetball with my Saturday morning walking companion Sean O'Donnell-Brown. We walk about four miles in an hour, just enough to get our blood moving. Neither of us has played racquetball before and it shows but we have a good time. With the exception of a little tennis last fall, the ole competitive softball, football, basketball player Gordy Taylor has sort of disappeared from the scene. Sean and I are novices and kind to each other on the court, but neither of us competes to lose. My point is, after a year of relative inactivity, I may have lost a bit of the coordination gene. I moved to hit the ball and the next thing I knew I landed squarely on my right butt cheek. Poor Sean hovered over me, "are you alright? Did you break anything?" I just looked up, smiled, and said, "Nope, just fell on my ass!" We finished our match and he dropped me off at home. Now I don't know what's in a person's posterior but I know the right side of mine has been sore since Saturday. Hopefully, my coordination will return along with my taste buds and salivary gland activity.

On a serious note, it seems Diane and I have been to more funerals lately than we care to attend. It is always difficult to say good bye forever to good friends when they leave this world to enter the next. My good fortune with my recovery to date is not lost on either Diane or me. We both commented the other day on the fragility of life and the need to enjoy the gift of life as we never know when it will end. No doubt my struggles are the past year have heightened my awareness of this particular reality. I hope everybody who reads this takes the time to savour each day, smell the roses, and be forever grateful for the love of family and friends. It seems so obvious but sometimes we get so caught up with our daily lives that we forget that the most important things in life are not really things at all but rather the people and experiences we encounter on our journey through life.

Doctor's Appointment

It was a quiet ride to Burlington, IA, yesterday for my 3-month check-up with Dr. Henrich, the Ear, Nose, Throat specialist. We've made this drive maybe 60 times since March of 2010, but most of those were for treatment or related issues. After a bout with cancer, going to see a specialist is not at all like the regular appointments we all schedule with our respective doctors. You know that each visit could be a life changer. Diane and I didn't talk much until we entered Great River Medical Center. We walked upstairs and then proceeded down the long hallway to the doctor's office when I paused, looked at Diane, and said, "I wonder what it will be like after the appointment walking down this hallway to leave the building?"

We are delighted to report that after an examination and scoping of my throat, through a tube inserted in my nostrils, he said, "I see nothing! No growth, no tumor, clean as a whistle." We just sat there for a moment and digested and then savored his words. I asked about a PET-scan in June and Doug repled, "I don't think it is necessary. Research tells us that for head and neck cancers additional PET-scans do little but add more radiation to a patient's overall overloaded system." His suggestion was that unless I have "issues," I return for another 3-month exam at the end of June.

The ride home was quiet but delightful. Diane let our children know the good news and for her those are calls she enjoys making.

Tonight we are saying farewell for now to Don and Lisa Patterson who are departing for Buffalo, New York, where Don will be the quarterback coach at the University of Buffalo. It will be a difficult good-bye for me especially as Don has been there since day one of my diagnosis. I wish he and Lisa well and am comforted by the fact that he will only be an email or phone call away.

For those of you who are members of the Western Illinois University community, we received word this afternoon that former WIU president, Dr. Leslie F. Malpass passed away quietly at home yesterday surrounded by his family.

I'm Back and I'm Sort of Back

View of South Beach from our room

Ryan, Gordy, and Gordon

Before Dinner

March 6th, Gordon ran a half-marathon with a team from Hyatt. Fortunately for us, it began and ended on South Beach. Congrats, Gordon!!

Diane and I just returned from two wonderful weeks at South Beach, Florida. It was a healthy tonic and escape from what has been an arduous Midwest winter. Like "Goldilocks and the Three Bears," our visit was not too long, not too short, but just right. Hopefully next year, we can get away for a couple of months.

I spent a lot of time walking which has become, for me, synonymous with thinking. I also spent some time just sitting out looking at the ocean as I find that very peaceful and satisfying. One day I looked out where the ocean and the sky met, and I thanked God on two accounts: (1) it has been quite a year as all this started when I was diagnosed March 4, 2010, and I'm still here and (2) I thanked God for the prayers and support that have sustained and lifted our spirits this past year.

I've talked about the "new normal" before, but I am now coming to grips with the reality that there really is going to be a permanent "new normal." I am struggling with the conflict between what my mind feels I can do and what my body tells me I can do. This is further complicated by the fact that on the one hand, I am recovering from cancer and on the other hand, I'm 65 years old. For a person who has enjoyed a very active life, it is difficult to accept I will face physical limitations. I am just having trouble getting my arms around this reality.

Progress continues but it is painstakingly slow and frustrating but it is happening. I really thought after treatment, I could eliminate the word cancer from my vocabulary but such is not the case. The after effects continue to linger--unexplained bloody noses, a cough that doesn't go away, the always present lack of taste buds and salivary gland function, and a diminished energy level. As they say, hope springs eternal and spring is in the air in Macomb, and I will be able to spend more time out in the yard. I do know that for me, my bout with cancer will not allow me to remove that word from the back of my mind. Prior to our trip to Florida, I got a sore throat--my God you would have thought Diane and I were going to have heart attacks right there on the spot, and of course it turned out to be nothing--this time.

When he was 69, my dad had a serious health issue; however, he recovered and lived to be 74. I always viewed those last five years as bonus time, and while I don't know for sure, I'll bet cancer survivors view their time after treatment in much the same way. I also think maybe we are a little more conscious of time and how precious it is particularly as it comes to our loved ones.

We are off to Burlington, IA, on Wednesday to see the ENT doctor for a regular 3-month check-up and our goal is for him to have NOTHING to say after our visit. The next big event on this journey for us will be in June when I am due for my next PET scan. If it comes back clean, that will probably be the appropriate time to make a final blog entry. Here's hoping that's the case.