the memory keeper

I think that if I lived in a village, the most admired person in my mind would be the wise elder – the one who has all of the oral history of the village. it would be my dream to learn from him and take his place.

this morning, I was listening to “Feelin’ Alright,” thinking about what it must have been like for the fans at the Hanson concert to hear that song and know that Isaac Hanson is safe and “feelin’ alright” playing his first concert after his surgery for dangerous blood clots.

my turn comes on Friday, when Hanson will be here in Louisville to play a show. I’ve been writing about all of this in my public journal.

as I was listening to “Feelin’ Alright” and thinking about how glad I am that Isaac Hanson is doing okay, I got a call on my cell phone. my mom. I knew this couldn’t be good – she rarely calls me, and never during the day when I’m not sitting in her house on a break from school.

my great uncle died this morning. he has been suffering greatly from cancer. he was a smoker, and was diagnosed probably about a year ago. he had a rough spring with chemo, then pulled together for a 50th wedding anniversary with his entire family – he and his wife took their three children and eight grandchildren on a cruise to Alaska.

by August, my uncle’s health was coming to an end. it was clear that his time was coming. the cancer had spread all over his body. my aunt, who is a nurse, has been caring for him in their home. it has been difficult. she has help, but not always the kind or the time that she needs.

I think it was late August that they decided to have an early 50th anniversary party – because it was clear that he would not live until their actual anniversary in November. all three kids happened to be in town for the weekend (one lives in utah, one in ohio, and one in indianapolis), so they decided to throw the party early. they had less than a week to plan.

I happened to be in town that weekend, so I got to go. it was amazing to see how many people they pulled together to celebrate in one week. my uncle looked pretty bad, but it was amazing to see him there. I went with my mom to speak to him. he started crying when he saw my mom. I hugged him. I knew my mom was on the verge of tears, as was I.

since that party, family has made a stronger effort to come visit and help. my mom has been going over several times a week. the daughter in utah decided to come for two weeks. she brought her youngest child (age 3) with her. this past weekend, a cousin from california flew in to stay a couple days. she is a cancer nurse, so her presence was a huge blessing. both the utah daughter and the california cousin had a “feeling” that now was the right time to come. and they were so right.

the son from ohio brought his family for the weekend. the daughter in indianapolis regrettably had something come up in her home. I ended up home for the weekend, so I got to go over and visit.

when I arrived with my mom, the woman warned us before entering the house that he was having a particularly terrible day. just a few minutes earlier, when the phone rang, my uncle had said, “no visitors.” we went into the house anyway, and he was sitting in the living room, shielding his face from us with his hand. soon after we arrived, the family nurses convinced him that he needed to lie down, so he was placed in a wheel chair and wheeled down the hall to the bedroom. he kept his hand over his face.

the woman talked about how this may be his time – and it may not. he had gotten this bad twice before, and had bounced back the next morning. the last time, he had asked for his walker the next morning, and walked across the house unsupported. he wanted to go out, and the whole family got to go out for breakfast.

anyway, I didn’t go back to the bedroom where my uncle was that day. he was never left alone – there was always one or several women with him. if anything happened at all, several people would take off RUNNING for the room. if he asked for anyone, that person immediately came to his side.

when it was time for me and my brother to leave (our mother had already left), we entered the bedroom to say goodbye to everyone. when we entered, our uncle was asleep. our cousin from california was knitting in a chair (the cancer nurse). the daughter from utah was working a crossword puzzle. the daughter-in-law from ohio was reading a book. all were sitting together, and all looked up quietly and peacefully when we entered. we spoke softly for a few seconds, and then my uncle sat up, retching in pain. the women leaped to his side. two women were supporting him, one was sitting on the bed next to him, and his wife entered the room as well. they seemed to settle him, and the daughter from utah came to put her arm around me, apologizing softly that we had to see this. I looked at her eyes. brimming with tears. she dropped her arm from me, and returned to sit on the bed with him. she took her crossword puzzle. in another moment, he was retching in pain again. his words were incoherent – the women looked across his at each other, puzzling out his words.

I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to see this, but my brother was closer to the door, and he made no move.

our uncle calmed again, and the women told us we could touch his arm and tell him we were leaving. my brother very bravely stepped forward, touched him lightly, and said, “goodbye, uncle bob.” the woman loudly added that matt was going home now, and that taryn was here in the room too – they came to say goodbye. I didn’t step forward to touch him. I didn’t want to break down in tears. I didn’t know what to say to him in front of all of these people who loved him. I knew he couldn’t truly understand anything right now anyway. I turned and left. as I walked down the hall, I realized that this was the last time I would see him, and I had walked away without acknowledging that. I regretted not touching him. why didn’t I think of that while I was in the room?

I went home, and I wrote this in my public journal:

I am suddenly amazed to be reminded that everything does work out for the greater good. I am shocked that I had forgotten, and that I have spent the past few months on the verge of not “buying it.” as a child, I felt that I had to believe that even the bad things would someday work out for the greater good in my life. if I didn’t believe it, then how was I supposed to have hope that I could ever get out of the cycle of my house? and things definitely have changed at home.

I’m not going to say that it’s a good thing in itself that Isaac was in the hospital. but it did cause “my” concert to be cancelled – which I definitely wasn’t happy about. but during all of that time that I would have been standing on the street in st louis, standing in a sweating throng of hanson fans waiting for hanson, or singing along with hundreds of people to all of our favorite songs, I was with family.

I was sitting in a circle with a cousin from california, cousins from utah, cousins from ohio, and grandparents from kentucky (as well as family members from right here in the county). what brings us together is tragic – my great uncle is dying from cancer – but the time that we got to share was somehow still magic. I got to talk with the family, play barbies, play hi

de and seek (the kids never even found my special spot!), and play tag. I got to do a 3D puzzle with my brother and a couple cousins. I didn’t get to see my uncle very much. he was having a particularly terrible and painful day, and I can’t help, especially among all of his close family members. I didn’t know what to do anyway, except cry as I watched his pain and several of the closest women in his life struggle to help him.

but I could help by keeping the kids occupied and somewhat quiet. it amazes me that a 4-year-old child can steal my heart in a day, while no man has ever stolen my heart.

so. I came here just to say that I have been reminded that God really does see the entire picture, and even frustrating, bad, terrible, or catastrophed things than turn out for good in the end. it’s just that sometimes it only takes a week to find the “good,” and sometimes it takes years, a lifetime, or longer.

I worried, as I always do now, whether or not I should post this publicly. was it okay to write about my family at such a sensitive time? did I portray my discussion of God in an open and accepting way that all kinds of people could read, not just conservative Christians? even though only a handful of people read my “public” journal, I constantly worry about unintended readers. I should do the same here. it’s probably quite stupid that I don’t.

when my mom called to tell me that my uncle had died, she also told me how much she appreciated this journal entry. she said that she had emailed it to the family, and everyone had enjoyed reading it and was glad that I had written it.

what? after all of the trouble that I have gotten into for my writing, it still finds a good purpose? I hung up the phone, and I cried. then I went to go find out what the family HAD said about my entry.

when my mom shared the entry, she wrote: I thought I would share with you Taryn’s online journal entry for this weekend. She is so good at putting into words how thing effect her. This online journal is something that she shares with all of her family and close friends. It is easier than emailing everyone.

my aunt, the one whose husband has just died, wrote back:

Her writing ability is absolutely amazing – everyone here has read her entry and needed tissue before they got very far. I am glad that her entries are being recorded where they can be retrieved and treasured for years to come.

We were so happy to have you come and really enjoyed getting to see both Taryn and Matthew. The 3 kids here have chattered ever since about how they played with them and how nice they are.

Thank you for your faithfulness, Aunt Ruby

I am so surprised to find that I DO have a part to play in the family. at times, I felt so useless and childish while at my uncle’s house – I couldn’t ease his pain, and I did nothing to help others, like do the dishes or make dinner. but I do have my own part. I helped with the kids. the mother of the 4-year-old thanked me repeatedly, which often felt silly. I didn’t feel that I needed to be thanked so much for doing what I loved. but I knew I was helping her and everyone else – she didn’t need to worry about her daughter, she could just worry about her dad for a while.

but my part goes even further than babysitting. I do write. and in this case, I showed an ability to put into words some memories for the whole family, and some thoughts that touched them and hopefully helped the family remember to look for the good in all of this pain.

so my uncle has passed. I know that on monday the son from utah decided to stay an extra day, and the daughter from indianapolis had driven down after all (upon hearing how badly he was doing). the daughter from utah was still there, and the cancer nurse from california still had one more day to stay. so yesterday, my uncle had absolutely everyone there that we can assume that he would want for his passing. he died this morning, so I don’t know how many of them were still there, but I am so glad to know that he was at least blessed with the presence of all of his children on his last day before dying, if not at the actual time of his death.

as I drove home with my brother on saturday night, I talked out loud about whether I would miss my Hanson concert to go to his funeral, if he died and his funeral was on that day. as I talked out loud, I realized that it was more important to be with family on that day than to be at a hanson concert. regardless of the fact that one hanson concert had already been cancelled, regardless of the fact that I’ve been waiting two years for the next tour, and looking forward to this day since july, when I bought my ticket.

when mom called me this morning, she didn’t know yet when the funeral would be. she told me that I didn’t need to come if it interfered with my classes or work or anything. what I am doing here in louisville is more important, said my mom. I felt relieved – let off the hook, in a way. but interfering with class is NOT the same as interfering wit a concert.

it makes sense to me that the funeral would be on friday. it’s tuesday now, doesn’t it usually take about three days? maybe it’ll be on thursday – i could possibly skip class and work for it. maybe it’ll be on saturday – I could drive home as soon as the concert is over friday night. or maybe it will be on friday – maybe I could leave right after the funeral and make it to the concet. I wouldn’t get a good place in the concert, and I would miss “taking the walk” but it would be a good compromise. oh well. we’ll just see what happens.

I am amazed at my cousin from utah’s intuition – everyone kept talking about her intuition. her decision to stay for two weeks has perfect timing – one week to help with her dad, and one week to help her mother deal and plan his funeral. but then again, is that my cousin’s perfect timing, or God’s perfect timing?