Wednesday, January 31, 2007


At 9:42pm on Wednesday January 24th, my father John Radin passed away, just three weeks after deciding to stop the chemotherapy treatments. It was peaceful, and he was at home with his wife and three children, just as he wanted. My sister lovingly describes the last few days in a way I just can't yet.

Thank you all for the unwavering support over the last few, difficult months. I'm sure I will continue to rely on that support in the future.

Richard Bach: "That which the caterpillar calls the end of life, the master calls a butterfly."

Walter Lippman: "The final test of a leader is that he leaves behind him in other men the conviction and the will to carry on."

Robert Benchley: "Death ends a life, not a relationship."

"Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries it can't separate people from love. It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death.”

Saturday, January 13, 2007

A bad day

It all started when we all overslept Thursday morning. Brett and I didn't wake up until 7:45am, despite his alarm going off at 6:30. Jonah was screaming because he had a mild fever (which started late the day before) and was uncomfortable, and Elliot and his bed were soaking wet because his pull-up leaked. We had to be out of the house by 8:45 to make it to gymnastics. And, since we were going straight from gymnastics to Mom and Dad's apartment, I needed to make sure I had everything for the kids for the rest of the day, including drinks and lunch. Without forgetting anything I was supposed to be brining back to Mom and Dad, since they were driving home to MD the next day. (Of course, I hadn't bothered doing any of that the night before!)

We did manage to get the kids dressed, medicated (Jonah), fed, and out the door for gymnastics. Jonah was feeling much better by then, thanks to the Tylenol. I didn't have time to shower, however, which always makes me cranky. So we get to gymnastics, and Elliot goes off with the instructor. I then spend 15 mins before Jonah starts class negotiating with the gym manager about class times for next session (that's already paid for), since they're canceling Elliot's current class and there's no other time when there's two age-appropriate classes running at the same time. We finally settle on something that mostly works, but Elliot's in a class with younger kids and Jonah's in one with only older kids. Sigh. Whatever.

After gymnastics, we get in the car and drive an hour to Mom and Dad's. Which is very sad, since they're leaving and I don't know how many more times I'll get to see Dad. When we get there, Mom's feeling very overwhelmed about packing everything up, and already has 14 paper grocery bags full of stuff for me to take. So I help her sort through a bunch of other stuff while the boys run around crazy. And Dad can't really be around since Jonah's sick (though the fever's gone with the medicine and he's feeling fine). Mom keeps finding more and more stuff to pile into my car. It's kinda ridiculous the amount of stuff she's bought for this temporary apartment, that she's now wanting to get rid of (food, cleaning supplies, organizational stuff, decor, etc.). So I'm annoyed at being the one stuck going through everything; then I'm feeling guilty at feeling annoyed.

We finally get home at 3pm. The boys play for a bit while I unload the car. In unloading, I discover that Mom's put a bottle of bleach in a plastic grocery bag in the the back of the car, along with some other cleaning supplies. Apparently, though, the cap on the bleach container wasn't quite sealed and has been leaking. I didn't discover this until I heft the bag out of the car, and it starts dripping because the grocery bag also has a hole. So I've now got a small puddle of bleach in the back of the van, plus it's dripping onto the garage floor and splashing up onto my pants. I cleaned up everything as best I could, but there's now a spot in the back of the van, my new blue pants are covered with white spots, and the car smells like bleach. I was so aggravated! And now the kitchen is filled with bags and bags of leftover stuff Mom spent so much money on, and now doesn't want.

When I finally get everything unloaded, I got the chance to call my neurosurgeon's office to see if they have the results of the nerve testing on my hand. But, of course, they've left for the day. And the surgeon in only in his office on Thursdays. So now I have to wait another week.

Then, I pack the boys up in the car again at 4:30 to pick up a urine collection kit at the vet and head to the grocery store, which I hate doing at that time of day. But we're out of milk and some other things, and I won't have a chance to go the next day. When we're leaving the grocery store, Elliot wanted to climb in the back of the van to get to his carseat, which he often does. But this time, when he does it, he manages to find a spot of bleach I missed, so his navy pants now have a pink spot on one knee. It's all I can do to not scream!

All I want to do is crawl into bed, pull up the covers, and tune out everything but my iPod. And I still hadn't showered.