What happened to the Christmas Letter?

I was looking through some old papers that I have saved for many years.  A lot of what I saved are Christmas letters from friends and relatives.  I also have some handwritten letters from older relatives, like Uncle Al and Aunt Connie.  I re-read them all as I tried to decide what to keep and what to throw away.  And I realized that I haven't gotten a Christmas letter in years - nor have I sent one out.  There were several from Jessica's godparents and, then, just her godfather after Peg Sante died.  Now Pete has also died so.  A friend from nursing school apparently had the smartest kids in the world and didn't mind letting everyone know.  They were valedictorians in high school and then went on the multiple degrees in Ivy League schools while she worked with at-risk populations of pregnant women and girls.  Hard to live up to that.  My sister-in-law used to send out missives updating the family on the exploits of her two daughters and kept us abreast of what our brother was doing.  I was not crazy about the Christmas letters but I sent them anyway as a means of keeping in touch with family and friends.  Now with Facebook and emails, it just doesn't seem as important.  But I miss them.  Be on the lookout for a letter this Christmas - that is if I send out cards.

Mood Swings

It has been a wonderful day so far for me.  I managed to get out of the parking lot and to the gym to try the cardio dance class.  As soon as I saw the skinny young women with no boobs, I started to suspect I was out of my league.  I lasted 50 minutes though, but left early enough that no one would have to call 911.  Then I had to fight the Seafood Festival crowd to get home.  My street has been blocked off due to the festival, but I made a point of telling the guard when I left that I would be back at 11:30 or so.
  After a quick shower, Richard and I went to the festival.

The sun was shining brightly, no clouds and only a little standing water here and there.  There was a nice breeze to keep things comfortable.  I had not eaten yet so I checked out the various food booths and opted for fried clams and fries.  Big mistake because I am never going to find clams as good as the ones I used to get at Nantasket Beach.  After checking out most everything, we settled into a couple of bar stools at Tight Lines Pub and enjoyed some adult beverages.  Then I made one more pass through the festival crowd and back home.  I checked out the Weather Channel briefly and all they had was the gloom and doom stuff that would make anyone not here think we might be in mortal danger.   It was only later that my thighs started to scream at me, protesting all the squats we did in class.  But still, it has been a very good day.  I love the fact that I can wear a tank top, shorts and sandals in October.  I love the water views.  I love the simplicity of renting.
The problem will be tomorrow when my mood swings back the other way and I start questioning my judgement in moving and despairing of what my next step will be.  And tomorrow it will probably rain again or, at the least, be cloudy and gray.  These mood swings have been plaguing me ever since I stopped my hormone replacement therapy last year.  I don't think I should go back on hormones but I sure wish my mood would stabilize somewhere in middle.  I would sacrifice the highs to get rid of the lows.

Saying Goodbye

I have been thinking of my brother, Stephen, a lot lately.  He died this past summer from cancer.  He was diagnosed early in 2013 of esophageal cancer.  He sent me a text message back in February of 2013 saying that he had started chemo andwas hoping for the best.  I went to SC in May of that year when he had his surgery.  He was living in SC alone and I figured I could look out for his best interests while he was in the hospital and help him once he got home.  His surgery was a major one and, with my help, he survived the whole hospital process.  He didn't really need a lot of help from me at home and I left once I saw that he was capable of handling his meds and his feeding tube.  He was able to go to the beach in NC that July.  His surgery was followed by another round of chemo.  I was so sure he would survive the cancer even though the statistics for his kind of cancer were not good.  It was, after all, found early.  A year after his original diagnosis, it was found that his cancer had returned.  He started chemo again but it didn't go well.  At some point, he opted to try a clinical trial for an experimental drug.  By July, he was on a fast downward spiral.  In early July, he was having trouble walking and talking.  A brain tumor ( or more accurately, three brain tumors ) was discovered.  He had surgery to remove the one operable tumor.  After that, it was a series of one sibling or another going to SC to stay a few days or a week.  He didn't want too many people with him at one time.  I contacted hospice for him but he didn't feel ready for that.  He was hoping to try gamma knife radiation for the other 2 tumors.  Three weeks before he died, he was talking about selling his house and getting a house on one level.  But he was talking about having one built.  He refused to make out a will.  He refused to sign a DNR.  In the meantime, one sister flew down from MA, one came from Vancouver, one came from AZ, a brother came from GA.  We tried to take turns.  He had a wonderful friend from work who came to his house every day after work to sit with him and help him in any way she could.  He didn't mind having Sandra there.  His friend Leo came from MA to stay with him for the duration.  A couple of days before my last trip to SC, he went to the hospital again.  I was able to get him home and under hospice care just two days before he died.  The last night he was alive, Sandra and Leo and I and some other friends sat around his bed, drinking bourbon and ginger, talking to him and about him.  Every now and then he would throw in a comment.  He died the next afternoon.  He had no wake, no funeral, per his request.  His family and friends did not get to gather one last time and remember him.  He was cremated and his ashes are now in MA awaiting a final disposal. It has always felt like we never got to say goodbye.  It was better than a sudden death because we almost all got to see  him one last time.  And, as much as I don't like the tradition of a 2 day wake and a funeral, I felt like we missed something.  We tried to have a makeshift memorial service at Thanksgiving but it didn't feel right.

This is the last photo of him taken a couple of months before his death.  He looks happy and not so sick.  Rest in peace, Stephen.  We all miss you.