Anniversary

I spent most of today thinking about 50 years ago.

I remember leafing through my mother's "year" books, each one the size of an encyclopedia, each one a tome of history for that year. I often turned to 1963 and read of the assassination. I looked through the black and white pictures of the tragedy. And I thought of how long ago that was. 

Today, I realized that '63 was only 14 years before my birth. Not that long ago. And I realized how the course of events over 14 years can change the world.

I often compose these posts in my mind as I travel home from the ice arena. And while I wanted to write about JFK, my mind shifted to other things.

Tonight, I worked with several close friends. They always ask about my family. They always ask about my mother. As I started the night, it was with a light heart and I was focused on the task ahead. Post game, as I looked through my email, things changed.

Mom is fighting again. Not that she ever stopped. Her body has fought, the drugs have fought and the science has found different ways to make things work. That has changed once again. Her cancer has moved into her shoulder, her neck and is active again in her liver.

With this comes a great deal of emotion. Fear. Love. 

I know she will once again pick up her gauntlet and fight. I know we will stand beside her, our friends will stand beside us and strangers we have never known will help her through.

As I walked out, a second friend asked how my family was and my answer had changed.

My drive home was lifted by music. My eyes were wet but my soul was strong. Songs of old, memories in black and white sifted through my mind and guided me to my door.

And now, here we go again.

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war..."

Mom, we will all cast aside those ensigns of peace. We too shall carry this gauntlet with you.

Cancer Sucks Game #18

On the ice at 7:20 this morning

Cancer Sucks Game #17

Working a fundraiser for cancer this weekend.

Cancer Sucks Game #15

Alaska vs Colorado

Cancer Sucks Game #14

Game #14 - Round 2 AHA Playoffs - Canisius vs Air Force

Cancer Sucks Game #13

Game #13 - Round 2 AHA Playoffs - Canisius v Air Force

Cancer Sucks Game #12

Game #12 Niagara vs Air Force

Cancer Sucks Game #11

Game #11 Niagara vs Air Force

Cancer Sucks Game #10

Game #10 Bulls vs Eagles

Cancer Sucks Game #9 / Emiko's Dreams

Game #9 Grizzlies vs Eagles

Sorry for the delayed post on this one. Took the picture, sent it to myself and then forgot to get it uploaded here. But I wanted to post something Emiko said/something Hope sent to Nonni.

From Hope's email:

"...this morning Emi told me about a dream she had last night:

"Nonni and I had wings. We were pushing off the floor so we could fly
around together like fairies. You (mom) and Dad and Ojisan kept
telling us not to, but Nonni and I wanted to fly together so we kept
trying and then we did! We had so much fun flying around the house!"

Now if THAT doesn't make you feel better I don't know what will. You
are sooo important to Emi & Winn- not sure if you know just how much
they love you. The love of children is so very pure and strong, and
you should know that you are a part of their lives every single day,
whether or not you are physically with us. So many times they bring
you up in conversation; they want to share things with you and show
you what they are doing. Even Winn, when asked "who flies on a jet
plane?" always answers "Nonni!!"

If you can't fly on a jet plane this weekend, no worries, we know
we'll see you when we can. Until then, just don those fairy wings and
visit us in our dreams.  We love you so much, there are no words to
express it.

Feel better soon!"

Cancer Sucks Game #8

Game #8 Canisius vs Air Force

Cancer Sucks Game #7

Game #7 Komets vs Eagles

Jeremy and his wife, Sara, run the clock at the Eagles games. They have become a good friends over the years and I always look forward to seeing the two of them during Eagles games.

Not too many folks have really asked what I have been writing on my tape. Nor have I necessarily announced to those I am skating with what is going on. However, on Saturday night, Jeremy was sitting next to me when I was taping up. He knows my rituals. He knew something was off. He noticed what I had written and knows me well enough that I don't always write on my tape.  He asked what was going on and I explained.

Jeremy and I have our rituals as well. Typically, before a game, we fist bump through the glass. This night was different. When I arrived at the timekeeper's box, I was taken aback by the note he and Sara had put up inside the glass. "We love your Mom too and hope she gets better".

Entirely unexpected. Entirely appreciated. And entirely enough to throw me off before I got back into my pregame rituals during the anthem.

Thanks Jeremy and Sara. That made it a great game.

Cancer Sucks Game #6

Game #6 Komets vs Eagles

Cancer Sucks Game #5

Game #5 AIC vs Air Force 2/2/2013

Cancer Sucks Games #3 & #4

 Game #3 Robert Morris University v Air Force 1/25/2013

Game #4 Robert Morris University v Air Force 1/26/2013

Cancer Sucks Game #2

Game #2 was Army v Air Force, 1/12/2013

Cancer Sucks Game #1

Mom's cancer has returned. 

Life's challenges have the ability to weight heavily on your mind. It can sometimes become all encompassing. It sometimes fades to just the voice in the back of your head. But it is always there.

In hockey, you have to spend sixty minutes focused on nothing else. This holds true in any sport, it is sometimes the duration that changes. Nonetheless, when I work on the ice, I have to focus for sixty minutes. With nothing else in my mind but the game.

As refs, we talk about compartmentalizing. No matter what happened during the day, that week, that month. No matter the fight you had with your wife. No matter that work may not be going your way. When you step on the ice, you have to dedicate the next sixty minutes to the task at hand. Be there and not lose focus.

Generally, I don't have to spend a lot of time compartmentalizing. My wife and I don't fight. We rarely even disagree. Work rocks, I am living the dream. But when my Mom is sick, it gets tough.

This time, it is going after her liver. I know she is in good hands. I know she has good docs. I know that the medicine can work. But it is still scary. Like I am five years old and scared of being alone.

So, to find a way to get it off my mind for sixty minutes and to still carry it with me in a healthy way, I did this.

Game 1 was Army v Air Force, 1/11/2013

Life hits hard

"It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."

Life hits hard. It hits unexpectedly. It can throw you off your game, make your eyes water, make your knees buckle.

Everything started around Christmas. One of our employees lost her mother to a sudden brain aneurysm. She collapsed during an epic powder day. Then one of the owner's father had a sudden grand mal seizure out of the blue, something that never happened before. The doctors have been struggling to get the proper drug cocktail for him so he was in the hospital for days. An uncle, a man I think of before every hockey game I work, suddenly took ill and has been hospitalized off and on over the past few weeks. The initial scare was cancer but it turned out to gall stones. The initial operation took care of the pain temporarily but he was then hit with an infection and another gall stone attack. My father-in-law has been dealing with an ankle problem that can only be rectified with surgery. At best, he would be in a wheelchair for 2 months after the surgery and then a soft cast for 2 more months. The concern is that since he is in his 70's, surgery could be a challenge and the semi-worst case is that he would lose his foot.

Couple all of this with the news I got yesterday from my parents.

My mom and dad sold their Rialta with plans to buy an SUV and travel trailer. I have been looking for the appropriate tow vehicle for the past month or so. We were getting ready to purchase a truck when the call came in that we needed to hold off on any purchases until other things were figured out.

My father explained that Mom had been feeling short of breath. They finally went in and found that fluid had built up around her lung, essentially collapsing her lung. And then they found cancer cells in that fluid. So she was now scheduled for a bone scan to determine if anything else was going on and that she would need to start a low dose chemo treatment.

This all made me feel like my knees were going to buckle. My eyes were already watering from the sting. Dad was doing all the talking because Mom just wasn't in a place to talk right then.

During her first battle with cancer, she always listened to the soundtrack from Braveheart. It was music that lifted her spirits and set her mind on fighting the cancer that had grown inside her. She has still never seen the movie. She doesn't need to...she fought that battle in her head over and over and over.

Mom, I don't know what words can help. All I keep coming back to is this: "Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done!"

My Mom is a fighter. She will get her feet under her and she will walk forward into this with her head high. And all her family and friends will be walking by her side to help her fight this next battle.

Mom, there is a whole army ready to go to war with you.

Today is a big day. My uncle is in for surgery to have his gall bladder removed. My father-in-law is meeting with the doctors to make a decision about his ankle. My Mom is in for a bone scan to see what we are up against.

I wish all of us luck.

Sobering Moments

Life has its sobering moments. I was having what I thought was an awful day, I was spiraling, I was trying to keep my spirits up and failing and then I received an email from a friend. After a long battle with cancer, my friend just found out that his wife's liver is failing her. Suddenly, the little things I was struggling with became so meaningless.

They have just recently returned from a cruise in the Mediterranean where they visited Venice and got to experience Carnival. I spent time shirking work and paging through their photos online.

And so I sit here thinking of the two of them, the time he is taking to spend with her and I try to hope for the best outcome.

My thoughts and love are with them right now, I just wish there was more I could do.

My Mom, the fighter

To my knowledge, my mother has never watched Braveheart.

She abhors violence. Anti war. Anti guns. She does not even like fights in hockey. For her, there are so many better ways to solve problems without resorting to violence.

But she is still a fighter.

Why is this even relevant? About nine years back, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Which she fought off. She had a lot of help but in the end, I attribute her success to her willingness to meet the cancer head on and fight it off in mind, body and spirit.

She fought cancer off with the help of good doctors. With the help of good friends. With the help of our extended family. With the help of good drugs. But what I remember most was her reliance on the soundtrack from Braveheart. She listened to it constantly as she prepared for her personal battle.

Yet it still boggles my mind that she can't bear to watch the movie. Her fighting spirit does not want to see the violence depicted in that movie. As much as this confuses me, I understand and respect that.

Braveheart's soundtrack became her personal musical accompaniment. It traveled with her as she endured radiation and chemotherapy. It kept her strong, so strong that she would don her bandanna and head to the office for a day's work. I think her connection with that music was so strong that she does not need to see the battles in the movie since she faced the same in real life. The fiction, the history and the legend in the movie metamorphosed into her own story.

That's my Mom...she'd have made a good frontierswoman. She'd probably have carried all three of us on her back across the country while preparing meals, taking care of the oxen and giving directions to Dad. And she'd have made it look easy!

Unfortunately, to all of our surprise, she is dusting off her soundtrack. What started as some fears about a neurological issue rapidly progressed last Monday into a full blown cancer treatment. She had her first radiation treatment on Thursday. True to form, she went to work on Friday.

Where does this leave me? Confused and scared. It has clearly been a tough few weeks. I'm grateful that Jeff is home with our parents. I'm happy that I have such a strong support system here in Colorado when I am so far from home and parents.

And I'm so happy to know my mother is such a fighter. Here we go again, Ma. We are all on your side in this fight.