Team Meyer

Oh, it's so hard. By the time you read this, it will be August 31. Lou Beres will have been gone for two years. In March, Fred Schappert was gone for two years. And little Hadley. She's enterend a new phase. No treatments, no fight, just holding on, and making memories. Sometimes it's so overwhelming. It seems to never end. The victories are sweet and celebrated, but few. And the losses, they just keep coming. Not only the deaths, but all of the other things that cancer steals. Watch this: and look for Hadley . She's around 4:40. Thank you to everyone who's gone to her site and left prayers there. Look for the link in the sidebar. Once upon a time, I wrote on the CaringBridge site about cancer. And that poem that floats around the internet. I think I believe it even more now than I did then. Cancer is a powerful adversary. Pray. Fight. Donate. Tell someone. FIND A CURE. April 26, 2006 (first part of post is about driving by the site of Dave's wreck...and play...

Three years... on Saturday we marked by visiting the rock. 36 deep red roses. One blossom for each month, each month we survive, continue without Dave, trying to live out loud, like he did. We didn't get to the rock until late. The boys had practice twice that day. Then we went to chinese food at the Golden Horse. They were doing karaoke in the bar. We got to hear "Against All Odds" originally by Phil Collins THREE times. Yikes. And Sunday we marked another milestone, my birthday, although I kept reminding everyone that on Sunday I was still 44. Monday did indeed come, however, and now I really am 45. Not so very old. Not so very young, either! On Monday, the kids made me dinner and bought me a Foreigner cd and got me an ice cream cake. They were so cute. Sneaking around, planning their surprises. They're good kids. And it looks like we're going to keep Grumpy. As you can see, he and Zach have become quite attached. Gru...

The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. --Virginia Woolf I feel often that my world is in two pieces. The joy and the sorrow. The before and the after. The part you see and the part I hide. It has been three years without Dave. I have nothing new to say about that. It is as it always was. A stretch of lonely forever that has no end. And at the same time, the blink of an eye. Dreams die hard and you hold them in your hands long after they've turned to dust. -- Dragonheart. And so I do. Hold those dreams. Hold this dust. Coming home from Chicago, I couldn't wait to get home. To tell Dave all about it. There was a part of me that really believed, really believed, that he would be there, waiting for us, ready to hear the stories, smiling, laughing. And the emptiness of our house turned my heart to dust. I was so sure, so sure. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you sha...

August has slipped away, like it does every year. One day, it's the glorious height of summer. The next, fall is nipping in the air, sliding in when I wasn't looking. First, there was Peach Basket Classic. Always an amazing event. The whole town turns out to watch 3:3 basketball on the streets. It's usually blistering hot, little heatwaves rising from the blacktop. Zach, Andrew, Seth and Matthew have some crazy team name with even crazier plays. And Kate and friends play a little ball, too. The Haroldsons come and we eat too much junk and sit around the fire at night, relishing the relief from the day's sun, toasting marshmallows golden-brown. This year was different. The weather was mild, the mornings cool and the afternoons warm, but not unbearable. The Haroldsons were in Norway, so we missed them. Matthew was out of town, so Zach didn't have a team. Kate played on a team with Jaiden, Kiana and Sam. They were great. They even beat the team made up of...