The Salamander Pajamas

One year ago this month my family lost my beloved Aunt Barbara.  To say she is missed is such an understatement... the world lost a little bit of sunshine the day she passed away. I'm not the only one who thinks she was pretty darn special either- Emerson High School is dedicating a softball field to her.  She was a high school teacher and softball coach for years and years and many people worked together in the effort to honor her this way.  Like I said, she is missed by many people.  The dedication is at the end of this month and although I am sad that I don't get to be there, I was filled with pride when I was sent this picture of the brand new sign:

I mean really, how awesome is that?

Like I said, I am going to miss the dedication, but I know I will be thinking of her that day.  Actually, I think of her often and nothing in particular really triggers it.  They are just random memories of Aunt B that come my way from time to time and I love that.  The one thing I always hope to remember though is her voice.  That voice is engrained in my memory and I hope it's there to stay.  Anytime I talked to her on the phone she'd say, "Hi, Kimber!" and that's the phrase that I can still hear.  And I really miss hearing it.

The other day I was switching out Jake's clothes yet again.  It seems like all I've done during year one is bring one bin up to the attic and bring another one down.  It's kind of fun in a way because I get to see all of the new outfits my little man will be wearing in the upcoming months, but it's always a bit sad to put the ones he has outgrown away.  It's just a reminder of how quickly the little one is growing up.  But on this particular occasion, I got such a special treat.  As I pulled out items of clothing one by one a particular pair of pants caught my eye.  I just sat there, frozen in place as I stared at them in the bin.  Tiny pajama pants, covered in colorful salamanders, would probably be nothing special to anyone else.  But to me, they were a gift all over again.  Jake never met his Great Aunt B, but before she passed away she sent him a pair of pajamas.... cute, colorful salamander pajamas.  I remember opening them and thinking to myself how very "Aunt B" they were and how I couldn't wait for him to wear them someday.  With tags still on them I packed them in the 12-18 month bin and forgot all about them.  And then twelve months later I stumbled upon them- simple salamander pajamas that have taken on a whole new meaning... the most special gift a little boy could receive, but an even more special gift for his mama.

Aunt B, it's as if you planned it.  Thank you for popping in and saying "hello" to me and my little boy the other day... it's another one of those memories that will forever be branded in my mind.  Just a mom unpacking her child's clothes to find herself sobbing in the upstairs hallway, all because of a pair of pajamas.  But now, when my little man wears them, they are filled with energy and life, just as you would have it.  And I know that no matter what, you're a part of him and he's a part of you, and your legacy will be carried on forever.  A part of me is always sad when I put away the clothes that Jake has outgrown, but when these get too small, I'm really not sure I'll be able to pack them away with the rest.  Perhaps he'll just have to wear them until the seams fall out.

You are truly missed.

The Pink Ladies

No, I am not referring to the clique in Grease that Sandy wanted to be a part of, but instead of a group of women from my very own family that are much more popular in my heart. In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, my fellow blogger friend Jessica posted about how breast cancer has affected her life. I loved the idea... it has affected my life greatly as well and these strong, courageous women are inspiring and deserve to be honored. So without further ado, here are my Pink Ladies...

The first is my Nana, one of the coolest ladies I know. That is not an exaggeration. She's spunky and opinionated and will tell you what's on her mind. If she points out a flaw that you have(either on purpose or unintentionally), you actually want to thank her for it. And then give her a hug. Not necessarily in that order. She has basically told us that she is waiting for a great grand-daughter, even though she loves all of the boys that have come along. I love how she still exudes everything elegant about her generation, making me wish that I could have grown up with her and been her friend. In the past two years she has seen a grandson, a daughter, and a husband pass away, but I have never met anyone stronger. You certainly wouldn't know it... she's as tough as nails and as gentle as a lamb. I could go on and on. When she faced breast cancer, I'm sad to say that I didn't really pay much attention. I'm sure that I was told what she was going through, but I was a snotty teenager who was very much caught up in my own little world (which, in my head was a very important and very big world) and I did not really recognize the magnitude of what she was going through. But knowing my Nana, she didn't just beat cancer, she scared it away. Like I said, she's pretty amazing.

The next is my mom, and this time, the experience was very personal. As my mom was diagnosed and treated, I was living at home with her and witnessed just about every emotion and every high and low. I think there was a part of me that knew that she'd get through it, although I could tell in our conversations that she wasn't always so sure. I watched as she recovered from a lumpectomy, went through four bouts of chemo, lost all of her hair, and endured several radiation treatments. Although she never really complained, I could tell on many days that she just didn't feel well, but got up and went about her business anyway. She even trained for a half marathon, going out and walking several miles each week, through it all. By the time the race came along, she was a survivor, even ditching her wig and just wearing a ball cap over the fuzz that was finally growing back. The one promise I had to make to her was that I would make sure she had hair at my wedding, which still makes me laugh. Perhaps it was shorter than she wanted it but I kept my promise, and honestly, it's still one of the best haircuts she's ever had in my opinion. Mom makes the title cancer survivor look good... and I know she does not give herself enough credit.

The third one is my Aunt Barbara... Aunt B as I always called her. I know that I used the word amazing with both ladies above, but this one takes the cake. Sadly, her battle ended last spring, although it wasn't breast cancer that took her but rather a form of brain cancer that developed due to the breast cancer. She put up a good fight and I still find it unbelievable that she's gone. I wrote a tribute to her last April, which you can find here. We all miss her terribly, but like the others, I attach word survivor to her name because it wasn't actually breast cancer that took her. Aunt B has left such a legacy to my family and everyone who knew her to live life to its fullest and fight with all that you have. Every time I think of her I can still hear her saying "Hey, Kimmy" to me in that very distinct voice that she had. I hope that never goes away.

The same half marathon that I mentioned above was one that my mom and my Aunt Barbara did together. I stayed with them for about the first seven or eight miles and then ran ahead so that I could watch them finish. I had tears in my eyes as they crossed hand in hand. Aunt B was probably the only person in the race wearing hiking pants and boots (which is what she trained in) but I could not imagine her doing it any other way. After the race, my mom told her that she inspired her to get out and train because she knew that my Aunt B was training in the cold, wet winter weather in New York. My Aunt B then told my mom that she inspired her because she knew that mom was training despite going through radiation treatments. What we did not know during that race was that although mom's battle had just been completed, Aunt Barb's would just be starting. It make that day so much more special now.
My sisters and I know that it is very likely that one of us will face the ugly C-word one day. In my book, it's a 4-letter word and I hate it. But it's like I told my sister one night on a run... it doesn't scare me. I feel like it won't scare me if I ever get that news. In fact, I feel like I have no doubt in my mind that I will beat it. Perhaps this sounds crazy or naive, and putting it down in black and white seems like a pretty bold thing to do, but I know it can be done and I know that I could face it. My sister completely agreed and said that she's not afraid of it either... not in the least. I think the world is moving to a place where the word cancer does not have to be a scary thing. These days it doesn't mean the end. The journey may not be fun, but nowadays it is not hopeless. But I do have high hopes that it will be more than that. One day there will be a cure, and I am going to hold onto that hope with all that I have. Cancer will one day be a thing of the past and the list of survivors will grow longer and longer. And in the meantime, we don't have to live in fear about it, because as these incredible women prove that it can be beaten!

To Mom and Nana~ thank you for being such strong, inspiring women. I am so proud to be a part of your family. I love you both so much!

The Loss of a Hero

I have been trying to write this post for three days now, but seem to draw a blank every time I start. On Saturday morning, we lost our Aunt Barbara after her long battle with breast and brain cancer. She had beaten the breast cancer and was diagnosed with the brain cancer back in October, at which time we thought we had lost her. But this woman is a fighter and she gave it everything she had, which is the way she lived her life. If it hadn't been for the cancer, I'm pretty sure she would've outlived us all.

As kids, trips to see Aunt B were always a fun occasion. They meant driving up to the mountains in her big van and camping. They meant listening to the "Muscle Song" and going to the Pie Man for pizza. We played Frogger on the Atari for hours and rode her dog Missy around the living room. One year I forgot my beloved stuffed dog that went with me everywhere, and she gave me the one that sat on her dashboard without hesitating to get me through the week. Another year she wanted to take my picture with my hair in my face and sunglasses on a la Cousin It, and when I was too embarrassed to do it, she promised me an award. Sure enough, we had a ceremony and everything and I took home a plaque for taking the silly picture. The list goes on and on and on- one fun story after another that marked my childhood in such wonderful ways.

Aunt B embodied everything that an aunt should be. She was always so much fun to be around and I doubt there is a person in this world that didn't like her. As a teacher, many of her students say that she was the best they ever had and as a coach she was "Coach of the Year" many times over, so we were the lucky ones that had the privilege of being her nieces. And as her nieces, we always felt special.

Aunt B has left an imprint on our hearts and souls that will never fade away. She will continue to inspire us to always fight, always try harder, and always work to succeed in everything we do. And every time I cross a finish line, I will think of her as I know she would've like to do more races. She may be gone from the earth, but the impact that she has left here will be carried with us always. I know this post doesn't even come close to doing her life and legacy justice, but at least it's a small glimpse into how much she means to all of us. Aunt B, you are missed already. We love you dearly and will live bolder, more adventurous lives thanks to the one you led. Thank you for all you are and always will be to our family. We love you.