Saying goodbye

I'm not sure how long this one is going to be.

I just took a cruise through social media and I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.  A family I know is going through one of the hardest things imaginable.

Saying goodbye.

I met Shawn and Krissi four or five years ago while I was on tour with Pink Heals.  As it turned out, I didn't have to go far to meet them either, They're in the far southwest suburbs.  But, since I was on the Illinois portion of the tour that year, our paths crossed.

I'm so grateful they did.

If I remember correctly, at the time, Shawn was just finishing up kicking cancer's ass.  They showed us their appreciation for what we try to do on tour by showering us with snacks, bottled water, all sorts of food and some other small items that I, for one, certainly wouldn't have thought about but ended up using the heck out of.  Just simply two of the nicest, sweetest people on the planet.

I haven't seen them but a couple times since then in all honesty.  But every time I saw them, I was welcomed like a long lost relative.  One you like.  That's the kind of people they are.  So, when I heard a while back, that Shawn was going in for testing and ultimately, chemo, I never doubted he would kick cancer's ass once again.  This is one tough dude.  I followed his progress from a distance, trying to keep him in my thoughts, but knowing he'd be fine.

Then, the other day, I saw a post from Krissi about palliative care.  I figured I was mistaken.  It had to be about someone else.  I teetered back and forth whether to reach out to a mutual friend and see if I read that correctly or not.

Sadly, I read it right.

Krissi has asked for thoughts and prayers to let Shawn know it's ok to let his body rest.  He has fought like hell.  His spirit is so strong.  But "his body just couldn't take any more."

My heart is breaking for her.

A couple years ago I wrote "An Open Letter To A Grieving Friend" when a dear friend lost her husband suddenly.  Much of what I wrote then is still applicable.  And, now as it was then, much of what I learned was picked up first hand.  And, though I may never have said it here, I've said it often IRL, I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.  I certainly don't wish it on any of my friends.

While, in this case, I can imagine what Krissi is going through, I can't really relate.  My experience with the loss of a spouse took place over the course of six days.  And in Caitlin's case, it was three days.  Shawn has been fighting a lot longer than that.  I don't know, but I think it's a safe assumption that in this case it's stretched out a little further.  I always told myself that, if what happened to Diane had to happen, I was grateful it was so short.  Frankly, I don't know how I would've dealt with it had it been a longer term kind of thing.

Sure, with my parents, the decline in their health was long-term and noticeable, but it's not the same.  Shawn, like Diane, was in the prime of life when this started.

I guess maybe I want to wrap this up by saying, whether you know the family I'm writing about or not; if you pray, please do so for them.  If you don't pray, please offer up a kind word, or send strength and love in whatever way you believe.

Finally there's this.  If someone you know, someone you care about, loses a dear one, do something nice for them.  Cut the grass, walk the dog, fix a meal, call them just to say "hi".  Don't be afraid of reminding them they lost someone, they know what they lost.  Let them know you remember the person.  And let them know how important they, and the one they lost, are to you.

Shawn, I love you man.  You always made me smile.

Krissi, I'm so sorry for your loss.  Please know I'll keep you and the girls in my thoughts.  For a really long time.  You're such a special family and I'm truly so much better for having known you all.

Peace