Often, on New Year’s Eve, I publish a post filled with photos and happenings from the past year.  (Here are the posts from 2012 and 2013.)

A look back at last year

I’ve been putting off the 2014 post because it is difficult to write.  Earlier today, I re-read the Bible verse for the 2014-2015 Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) “Be you, bravely” theme and became teary eyed at this call to be present:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.  Isaiah 43:18-19 NIV

2014 was a year of great change and growth for me.  I turned 30, adjusted to life at home with two children, went on an 8-month hiatus from dairy and gluten while breastfeeding my second daughter, welcomed my nephew and brand-new niece to Texas(!) and embraced my love of natural health with therapeutic grade essential oils.  I also grew in my relationship with my dad, thanks in no small part to my new relationship with my stepmother, Karen, who passed away 6 weeks ago, today, after her brave battle with colon cancer.

Saying goodbye again

I never thought I would be writing about my stepmother on this blog dedicated to my mother.

To be honest, Karen and I got off on the wrong foot.  I met her in July 2010, when I was experiencing a painful pregnancy that ultimately resulted in miscarriage.  In the midst of managing my mother’s care through a very stressful time in her Alzheimer’s disease, I saw Karen’s presence as an intrusion in my family and thought her joyful exuberance was insincere.  I was angry at my dad for “moving on” while my mom was still alive and even angrier that he took his girlfriend to “meet” my mom in the nursing home.

I didn’t really get to know Karen until after my mom passed in June 2013.  Her joyful exuberance turned out to be genuine.  And as I got to know Karen, it became clear that she cared deeply about other people.  She was enamored with my children and jumped at the chance to babysit them, if she was physically able, whenever I needed help.

Through agonizing pain, chemotherapy treatments, hospital stays and surgeries, Karen never lost her concern for others.  Weak and in pain, she always wanted to know if everyone else was alright.  Even more amazing, she never lost her courage.

It’s funny how each new experience in life can dramatically change your perspective.  I used to think Alzheimer’s disease was the worst way to die, because of the long, drawn out loss of “self”.  After watching my stepmother suffer through colon cancer, in almost constant pain, for her final year on Earth, I’m no longer sure that dementia is the worst way to go.  At least with dementia, your senses are dulled to the breakdown of your body.

In both Alzheimer’s and end stage cancer, you become completely vulnerable and dependent on caregivers.  Two months ago, a young woman made headlines for choosing to end her battle with cancer before she lost her “dignity”:

“Today is the day I have chosen to pass away with dignity in the face of my terminal illness, this terrible brain cancer that has taken so much from me … but would have taken so much more.”

A friend who recently lost her mother to brain cancer posted her thoughts about the public’s response to Brittany Maynard’s “death with dignity” on Facebook.  Her feelings echoed mine–if the public saw Brittany’s death as dignified,  then they must have seen my mother’s struggle with  advanced Alzheimer’s disease and my stepmom’s struggle with end stage cancer as “undignified”.

You see, it’s not dying that takes courage, it’s living, despite the struggles and the pain.  I don’t know if I would have the courage to keep fighting, but Karen fought to live until the very end, never giving up hope or faith in God’s timing.

The last time I saw Karen was 3 weeks before she died.  I took my girls to visit her at the hospice home for several hours, and she introduced me to the nurses as her daughter.  “I’ve adopted her; I hope she has adopted me,” she explained.

That day, she talked of maybe getting strong enough to go home.  She prayed for God to heal her but said it was okay if He didn’t because she knew He was preparing a palace for her in Heaven.

Then, as quickly as we had adopted one another, she was gone.  But her unshakable faith and courage are with me forever.

Our first year as a family of four

The same day we celebrated  Karen’s life at her memorial service, we celebrated our second daughter’s first year of life at her turkey-themed birthday party.  Our first year with our vivacious youngest daughter has certainly been an adventure.  Watching sisters interact is both a learning experience and a source of great joy.

My husband and I have found that, while having two children is even more fun than having one, it presents new challenges in prioritizing our marriage.  Our dates were few and far between last year, but they were memorable.  We had our first weekend away from both kids in Brenham in October, saw the stage version of Dirty Dancing in Austin in November and even drove to College Station for a football game on Thanksgiving night.

I grew both as a mother and as a writer last year.  We took our first (rain-filled) vacation as a family of four to San Antonio in June and participated in Team Dixie’s 8th annual Walk to End Alzheimer’s in November.  I redesigned the blog (again), had two more posts featured on BlogHer in March and August, wrote a children’s book and began building the Daughters of Dementia community, “connecting women for hope and health”.

Live courageously in 2015

This month, we will celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary and our older daughter’s 3rd birthday, but I want to remember to be present and celebrate blessings every day.  Losing my stepmother a year after losing my mother has reminded me to to live courageously every day in the time I have here on Earth.

In line with our “Be you, bravely” MOPS theme, I want to take risks, have important conversations and accomplish goals.  I plan to publish my children’s book, write a 21-day devotional for dementia caregivers and continue to build the Daughters of Dementia community this year.

The purpose of life is not to be happy.  It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

How will you live courageously this year?

Let me know in the comments.

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