Sunday, August 13, 2017


Today is the 7th year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. I look back on that devastating day and felt, along with my husband and son, a pain so deep, the bottom of it couldn't be reached. We thought it was the beginning of the end. My first oncologist gave me 14 months to live.

Seven years later, as I continue to have faith that God is still going to heal me of this stage 4 lung cancer and brain cancer, I marvel at the milestones I never dreamed I would see. Sam finishing his freshman year of college, being able to take him back to Dordt for his second, third, and fourth years, graduating, getting married to a great gal, helping him move to Minneapolis, rejoicing with him as he got jobs that he loves. Never in a million years did I think God would grant me ANY of those great moments. Yet, He did. 

Oh, the grace of my Abba......

Lavish grace that has allowed me more time on this earth.

On the night of my diagnosis, while tears were soaking my pillow, I heard from the Spirit of God, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's son may be glorified through it." (John 11:4).

I believe God is faithful to His word and I believe the message from His Word was meant to sustain me in all the very difficult days and years ahead.

While on occasion, when I am weak, I still plead with God to heal me. But much more often, I just thank Him now, for what he Has given me and what He is going to do. I thank Him for the unexpected blessings that have graced my life for the past 7 years.

7 year anniversary

Tuesday, August 1, 2017


Things are going well for us. My chemo was upped to half strength and my only side effects are headaches. Richie tells me these are brain tumors evaporating, and I am choosing to believe him and not stress over the headaches. I am here in town for another appointment today.

Our lake is the warmest it has been in years. It was 81 degrees yesterday and the air was colder than the water. It has been great sitting on our floats and going WAY to drift in.
It is finally shorts weather!!

Richie is building a beautiful retaining wall for us. We had a piece of land cut off from our hill by our driveway to straighten it, and we need a wall to hold up the hill from eroding. The blocks are 70 pounds apiece so he is building muscle for sure. He also is losing weight. He is drenched from head to tow from sweat by 11 in the morning, if not earlier. The job he is doing is meticulous. You would never guess a professional didn't do it. I am so proud of him taking this on. Getting 8 tiers of rocks perfectly level is no small task!!

I love God because he is sovereign and majestic and hundreds of other reasons. But this summer I have seen his sense of humor. Earlier in May, I considered trying to let my hair grow out white, which was what it came in as after brain radiation. Dick and I both decided we weren't ready for me to be white. So for 2 years, I have been coloring that white. As it grew out I always had white roots.

Well, I had a chat in May with Terry, my pastor's sweet wife and friend who I noticed had some patches of white on her head. I asked her if she going to quit coloring and go white and she said yes. Something about what she said just gave me the courage to do the same. What do I care the way people look at me? If they think I look 75 years old, they do. 

So.....I assumed the transformation would take about 2 months since my hair is so short. Well, here is God's humor. He has changed my (when, I don't know) hair color to salt and pepper. Today, there is some white, but just as much dark brown. Are you kidding me? The radiation people told me my hair would probably come back and stay white.  Apparently God thought I would look better with some color!! He laughs.

Here are a few shots of our summer.

Captain, Sam's pup we babysat

Richie cutting up a dead tree he just felled in our front woods

Patty, my best friend through my early years

A view from the shore

Dick starting his wall

Four rows done (one under the ground), starting the fifth

Just lounging in the warm sun

Wednesday, July 12, 2017


We are at Sam's house in Minneapolis puppy sitting for a week. I am in hog heaven with access to wifi and internet and being able to talk on my cell phone. I am taking advantage of being able to sit at my computer at their kitchen table and be ON THE GRID. After years of being out of touch every summer, I never take internet for granted. I can even send video from here!!!

Pup caretaking is time intensive. We imposed a mandatory nap time for all 3 of us after lunch every day and Captain is real good about going in his kennel and taking his 1 hour nap (or more). Richie is taking on 90% of the dog care, for which I am very grateful. A question for God someday: WHY did You put such sharp teeth into the mouth of a puppy?

I am going to lunch today with Bill Gengler, a grade school classmate I haven't seen since high school. We reconnected online and I am anxious to reminiscence with him. Tomorrow my dear friend Patty (who I saw in March in Florida) is driving up to spend some time together. She is about 45 minutes south of Sam's house. I am so grateful to her for doing the metro driving which I am very skittish about. I lived here 40 years ago, but driving back then was a breeze compared to now.

I am soaking in the warmth of the Twin Cities summer. You can sit on the deck at night in short sleeves and be comfortable! I got my fill of cold and rain in June.

The only side effect so far with the chemo is the return of headaches. An Excedrin doesn't even take it away. And this is on less than a half dose. I hope they don't get worse when I go onto half dose next week. Muscle pain and balance are still bad, but they are a side effect from steroids and radiation 2 years ago. Headaches I can live with. Nausea I can't. So no complaints. I am anxious to get hearing aids (tho I hate the thought of wearing them) as my hearing loss from radiation keeps getting worse.

Don't know when my next update will be. I'll be at the public library sometime in the next few weeks, I'm sure.

Happy July!!

Wednesday, July 5, 2017


Being off the grid and being unable to have internet or wifi or talk on cell phones, I am feeling really frustrated. For my few minutes in the town library here, I just want to update you. With God's lavish deliverance, I was able to crawl out of the darkness of depression, no meds needed. I praise Him for that. I started up on the chemo again 4 days ago after being off all drugs for a month. I am starting at less than half a dose and working up to half dose. I think I am going to make the choice to stay on half and not try a full dose again.

We are going to grandpuppy sit for a week in Mpls. Hope to connect with friends who live there.

Cold and rainy and cloudy June, but July has been warm and sunny. Hope you all are having a good summer. It is a third over already. Feel like I was under a rock for all of June. Just now seeing the sun again!

Wednesday, June 21, 2017


I am weathering storms. The mysterious rash that appeared last week is going away (the PA at the little country clinic up here had no idea its source, but told me to take Zantac and Benadryl. It is working well. The vertigo that descended on me mid-week is starting to abate on Meclizine and by doing Eppley maneuvers. My depression is slowly being lifted with God’s mighty hand. It has been 3 days since I have been assaulted with something new and I am so grateful for that. I haven’t walked much since the mosquitoes are so bad, but I feel a bit surer on my feet.

Weather here has been generally speaking, cold and rainy. June up north is not a great month. The furnace still goes on 3 times every night.  I have read 4 novels in 2 weeks and am out of books. I know this makes no sense to most of you, but I almost feel panicky without a stack of books to be read. As soon as my vertigo is completely gone, I need to drive myself into the library in town.

Richie works his tail off every day trying to keep up with all the tasks of being a good steward of acres of woods. Limbs need trimming, downed trees (of which there were many from a late heavy snow) need to be cut off and cut up, and dead trees need to be felled. He has hauled 4 or 5 trailer loads full of pine boughs, logs, and other tree parts to the “back forty.” We decided to thin out a little of the front woods so we could see the lake better so he has been on a tall ladder taking boughs down in the thickest pine. It is a never ending job.

We go next week back to Sioux Falls for an appointment. I will most likely be starting back on my chemo, so pray that I will tolerate the single dosage. I will let you know how it goes. Thank you from the deep recesses of my heart for all your prayers.

Monday, June 12, 2017


There have been many changes since the last time I posted. A couple of days before we left, I had a bike accident, delaying our departure by a day (I still have bruised and scabbed knees). When we got here, for some unknown reason, for the first time in years and years, I felt “blue.” Having experienced depression before, I started on an antidepressant. That lowers blood pressure. I was already taking several meds which did the same thing and I probably was not hydrating enough. My blood pressure did not need to be taken to know how low it was. I got up here and the next day, my body collapsed. Could not even stand up. Dick had to walk me to another room, put me in bed. It was the lowest point of many years. My Avera consult resulted in them telling me to get off ALL drugs, including my daily chemo.

My body was just not tolerating the double dose well. My quality of life with nausea, weight loss, headaches, body pain was marginal at best. When I added my hearing loss and vitreous detachments to the new list of side effects, I could not see myself spending a summer like that.  If they hadn’t taken me off the chemo, I would have requested it myself. They want me to get back to a “baseline” before they start me on the single dosage again. I will not try double dosage again. The drug may extend my life, but at what cost? My choice alone.

Each day is a step forward. Today I walked 70 feet to the lakeshore without Dick’s help! Did two loads of laundry. That’s it My sweet sister-in-law Margie tells me, ALL FORWARD MOTION COUNTS. She has battled depression too. Have not seen any friends up here. They may not know I’m here yet. Haven’t answered the phone from friends at home. I’m still sort of isolating…..if you’ve ever walked the “blues path,” you know what I mean. It has been a long time since I have faced depression---years before I was rendered cancerous. It is such an insidious disease, and one that I hope I can be victorious over---with God’s help and getting back on the meds when I have baselined. I need physical and emotional strength badly.

I feel like a butterfly who has lost a wing. But I know that it is God’s promise to prosper me and not harm me; to work all these ugly circumstances together in a way for my good. That is the only trust I have.

We don’t get into town much (library where they have wifi), but I will update you when I can. Thanks in advance for any and all intercessory prayers that go up on my behalf!!

Next day:

I have such a servant husband. He dropped me off at the library so I could post this, and he is doing the big grocery shop by himself. It's his least favorite thing to do. I couldn't do it. He just has such a good heart. 

A sudden rash appeared on half my belly last night. Have no idea what it could be, but 
I just sent a picture of it to my brother. He can tell me whether I should get it looked at. I said to God in the night, "Go ahead and let it pile on......   In all things, give thanks. So thank you, God for the rash.

That's it.......there are probably grammar and spelling errors all over this post, but I don not have the energy to edit. Sorry.

Monday, May 22, 2017


I had a good first week on the chemo. Then they had me double it. Nausea kicked in right away which is the symptom I so hate. Nothing worse when you are trying to keep weight on. I lost 5 pounds that week, but then the nausea started lessening. On this past Wednesday, I had my first nausea-free day. And 2 more after that. And I have had pretty good days since, with just a couple of low-grade nausea hours. I am trusting that it will continue with more thumbs-up days than thumbs-down.

Richie has been on a fishing trip for 7 days and should be home tomorrow. My best friend Susan from Georgia flew in for 3 of those days and we had a great time together. It is hard to be so far apart, but it is what it is. We generate lots of telephone time!!

I am the worst selfie-taker EVER.

Susan arrived on her birthday and requested REAL chocolate mousse!

Finally, I have a shout out for my young friend Jocelyn who is doing such a fabulous job losing her baby weight. I hadn't seen her in about a month and her ongoing path to getting fit and trim again post-pregnancy is really paying off. Her face even looks different. I love encouraging these young women to do the work to get it all off.  She doesn't have far to go! Way to go, Jocelynn!! I see trim, fit and healthy just around the corner for you!!

Thank you blog readers, for your prayers for me in this long-enduring walk with cancer. You have been persistent and generous in talking to the Father about me and I am so grateful!!

Saturday, May 13, 2017


I took a short walk at 9 last night. Beautiful, balmy, birds still singing. I wasn't thinking about my folks at all when I walked out the door. And then, so out of no where, grief descended like an angry storm cloud. And the first tears fell before I was past my house. And then came the aching, the longing, the deep deep yearning to hold them and talk to them/hear their voices and joke with them and love on them. I cried the whole walk. Grief, which lives so close to the surface of our souls, had wrapped itself around me and wasn't letting go. Dick held me for a awhile when I got home, but my heart seemed to need a grief explosion. I cried and cried, til there were no tears left. I was at the bottom. 

I don't think if you had a tight bond with your parents that it ever gets any easier. My brothers both have those moments too, they've told me. We all have an emotional hole---even some of the grandkids have expressed it. How hard it is living without them in our lives. How blessed we Hiebs all are to have had two people so loving, so generous, so full of wisdom, so fun, so giving to others, so full of goodness as Eddie and Pat.

All I really know is that the best parts of who I am were created from the best parts of who Mom and Dad were. They live within me. I feel them. And if in honoring that love we shared, I need to spend a few nights sobbing out my grief, then so be it. 

Happy Mother's Day and Happy Father's Day, Mom and Dad.

Friday, April 28, 2017


I got approved for the chemo and I was able to get my first dose Thursday. Surrounded by the prayers of so many trusted prayer warriors, I felt God's peace as I took the first pill. I kept it down without any nausea at all. PRAISES TO MY LORD for that. Susan, Risa, Julie, Mary Ruth, Margie, Jackie, Cole, Sarah, Penny, Ann, Peg, Lee, Jackie, and Earleen, you guys ROCK as prayer intercessors and doing spiritual warfare against the enemy. You well supplemented  Richie's and Sam's prayers. I felt angels surrounding me, battering down the fears and anxiety that day. How can I ever say thanks? I will just have to pay it forward to y'all when your needy times come.

I double the dosage in 1 week. I am hoping that doesn't change anything in terms of nausea.

The final 2 weeks of getting approved for the program to get the drug early was highly stressful. When I came home Friday after being in SF 3 times that week, probed and tested and picked and tapped and scanned and MRI'd, I walked in and promptly slept for 6 hours in 2 different afternoon naps. THAT's how wiped I was. I admit I am still not back up to snuff. But the wait is over and now my prayer is for the effectiveness of the drug to be evident.
I'll welcome any prayers for that. This drug is my last hope (medically speaking). My real hope lies in Jesus and His mighty healing power.

Sunday, April 23, 2017


I am a grammar buff, and proud to be one. I had no choice in the matter. Spelling and grammar were areas where my parents were not lax. They wanted their kids to be articulate. We all had our grammar corrected immediately upon using the wrong word. They had a great deal of help from the Catholic nuns who educated us, who were nothing if not rigorous in teaching us the King’s English. Every grandchild, when visiting, got corrected as well. I thanked Mom and Dad many times for the gift of that early correction. Sam has thanked me many times for the same.

If a wine snob is one who appreciates fine wine, I must be a grammar and spelling snob. I like “buff “or “aficionado” better. My brain lights up when I see misspellings and hear bad grammar! I want to rectify both! I have many friends who use poor grammar and I always notice it. It is all over TV; even my favorite reality TV host uses it. Sports analysts (and Sam would agree) and broadcasters are not known for good grammar. The morning talk shows are sprinkled every day with grammar missteps. Yes, I notice every one.

Mom and Dad raised an S & G buff. I raised an S & G buff, and I have no doubt that if Sam has kids someday, their speech will be readily corrected by their papa. Because Sam had college journalism classes, he is even more knowledgeable about high level grammar rules than I am.

I have been able to use my particular area of passion in my job. My subbing in the schools was a prime place to make a difference. I swear parents don’t correct poor speech anymore. When a student asked or told me something like, “Can him and me go to the library?” I would just calmly say every time, “Ask me again using proper English.” It may have taken 3 or 4 tries, but they eventually got it right. And then I told them how they could not make that mistake again. Of course I was there only one day at a time, and without daily reinforcement, I’m sure my efforts to teach a few grammar rules went by the wayside, but I put my due diligence in anyway. I never let poor grammar slip.

In 20 years, I’ve rarely heard a teacher correct grammar in a student. Many of our teachers themselves have poor skills. THEY never learned well. One day a classroom teacher said in a conversation with me, “Him and Gary played tennis with I and Ann.”(names changed) I honestly cringed to my core. I went home and told my husband that our schools are failing our kids through parents who don’t care about speech and through many of our teachers. Not all of them. But definitely some of them. How can they turn their students into well-spoken adults when they themselves are not articulate?

My biggest bug-a-boo is with pronoun use. Learning how and when to use nominative pronouns and objective pronouns correctly should be taught from 2nd grade on. If kids learn it early----and it’s so easy to learn---- they will know it forever.

The second thing that I hear way too much of is using an adjective where an adverb should be: “He drove real careful.” (carefully, not careful) “He did good in that game.” (well, not good).

Then there is the “like” word that has permeated our culture, used multiple times in a sentence before verbs, nouns, adverbs and adjectives. What a meaningless word. Nothing sounds so “backwoods” to me as someone who cannot form a sentence without using “like.” I just like hope it is like just a fad and that it like eases its way out of our English vernacular like very soon.

Once I was subbing and saw a notice I was to send home with kids for their parents to sign. I read it and found 4 spelling and grammar errors in the notice. I left a note for the teacher and did not send it out. Our college education classes need to stress good grammar and spelling so that these young educators can pass that on.

Okay, this has become a lecture and I never intended it to be that. What I want to say is: Parents and grandparents, if you notice poor grammar, correct it. Teach it to your little ones. Pass on the gift of becoming articulate. If you don’t know good grammar, there are hundreds of resources where you can learn it! Turn your kid into a grammar and spelling buff!

Thursday, April 13, 2017


There is a possibility---a good one--- that I will be eligible to get the drug I need (before it is available through the FDA on May 15) now through a program called Compassionate Use. God's fingerprints were all over how I heard about this. I won't go into all the drama and detail of how it came about, but let me just say that I have passed Steps 1 and 2 out of 4 for final approval. Next Friday I will have brain and chest MRIs, as well as 4 other tests/labs to get an idea of my condition for the research team. If I pass, I could have the drug as soon as 12 days from now.

You may ask what the benefit is of getting it so close to the day I could get it on the open market. I realize there will only be a 3-week differential and perhaps to some it isn't worth going through all this protocol to get the drug early.

Let me tell you, when you have been sitting idly waiting since Feb.1 for the only drug that can extend your life, you grab at ANY advantage. The saddest part is I would have been eligible for Compassionate Use back on Feb.1. Needless to say, I fired my doctor and have hired a new oncologist. 'Nuf said on that.

I trust in God's providence for me. If I am supposed to be approved, I will be. If not, I wait. God is the same either way. When you trust God to order your steps, you have a peace that passes all understanding.

I remain hopeful and I will let you know if I am approved!!

Thursday, March 30, 2017


I am not a person who cavalierly recommends things to others. I do so primarily with books, and not even just good books. For me to recommend a book, it has to be a great read. I may have recommended a terrific movie or two over the years. But this may be the most excited I have been over suggesting something.

Dick and I have just finished watching a 4-part sermon series called Unstrapped. The preacher is a pastor from a large church in Omaha. Even though we have loved every one of his archived sermons, I wasn't sure I wanted to watch four about money. We almost chose not to delve into this series, but something in our spirits compelled us to start the first sermon. And we were totally hooked.

We finished the series in about 8 days (watching about a half hour a day) and the fourth sermon was as good as the other three. Friends, I urge everyone to listen to this series. It is about so much more than money. It is about a new lifestyle choice, your heart, what you worship, your stewardship, obedience, tithing, the way you view your life, and blessing yourself and others.

Dick and I agree that we have NEVER heard a sermon about money like this one. Six decades, and finally, a series of money sermons that felt like fresh oxygen. Each one touched us down to the marrow. We could hardly stop watching the streamed video each night. Pastor Les is so easy to listen to, so authentic, and yes, funny too.

If more believers (and non-believers for that matter) could hear this, how different things might be. We could see altered lives, and marriages coming together and restored families. If these principles were taught in churches, we would have a revival which could change the lives of many people in our fellowships, and by extension, in the community.

Friends, I am inviting you to try out the first sermon. If you don’t buy into it, don’t watch it. If you finish it and felt as inspired as we were, share the series with others. Tell people at your church about it.

Living the unstrapped life matters. Check this link out and please let me know what you thought.

Sunday, March 26, 2017


I waited in the shade in front of the cafe for her. When she walked up to me, after 33 years, we fell into each other's arms. We both had tears. Nearly simultaneously, we said "I would know you anywhere." I looked at her and said, "252-2218." And not skipping a beat, she answered, "252-4598." Our childhood family phone numbers. Decades later, fresh on both our tongues.

My long-awaited reunion with my best friend from grade school was the highlight of my trip to Florida this year. Life and careers and distance kept us apart for all that time, but to hug Patty was coming full circle.

Patty and I met on the first day of kindergarten and became best friends. Our parents were going to send us both to the small parochial school in town so we maintained our close friendship all through school. Together, we did life through spelling bees, sleepovers, grade school dances, piano lessons, dance lessons, 60's music (the best ever), 6th grade boyfriends and the horrific day in 3rd grade when JFK was shot. 

We spent lots of time at each other's houses playing....she had the most awesome Barbie set-up under their basement stairs complete with a Barbie and Ken house and car where we spent hours. My Barbie and her large case of clothing was always in transit between houses. She remembers thinking our basement as the coolest thing ever. Until she told me why, I had never realized that Mom and Dad had, indeed, designed a perfect 2000 sq ft space for kids and teens downstairs. As a kid, I had taken it for granted.

She spent summers with her mom at their lake cabin and her dad would often bring me out on weekends. We played "house" in her bunkhouse and spent time on the beach.
As we got older, we had crushes on lake boys and would take her boat and cruise around the lake. 

One day, the girl next door said she couldn't go swimming with us and we pressed her into telling us why. That was the day Patty and I learned all about menstruation, which sounded really gross. When the 4th grade girls had "the talk" with their moms, Patty and I had a pact to act dumb so our moms wouldn't be upset that someone else had told us.

Oh, yes, we shared many secrets. Isn't that a hallmark of a bestie?

Patty considered Mom and Dad her second parents. She was a later-life bonus baby with 4 siblings much older than herself so I think she enjoyed being part of the chaos at our house. When Dad was dying, she wrote a letter to my parents telling them how much they meant to her growing up. It meant the world to them, because they always had loved Patty. Dad never did stop telling the story of scaring her to death when he jokingly told her that if she didn't eat her creamed peas, he would give them to her in an IV. Patty well remembers it. He loved to tease.

Patty and I were best friends but we were friends with others. Colleen and Mary Kay were another set of best friends that we did things with together and individually. But we always gravitated back to each other. In the 8th grade, our school closed its high school, which meant for 9th grade, we would be going to the huge public high school. The only thing that made that less daunting was knowing Patty and I would navigate it together. Going from a class of maybe 25 to a class of 350 made me tremble. I was so shy by nature. I needed her for this big transition.

Weeks later, my universe shattered. Patty was moving to a city 90 miles east. I will never forget sobbing in my mom's arms the day she told me. It paralyzed me.

We tried to stay in touch as much as possible. In those days it was mainly by a monthly phone call and written letters. Lots of letters in the beginning. We both made other friends in our new high schools and our connection got stretched out. We saw each other a few times during college years, but didn't really re-connect again until I moved to Minneapolis (where she was living) for a 3-month graduate internship. She was newly married (yes, I was her maid of honor) and we started seeing each other regularly again. 

I got a faculty position at the University of Northern KY and moved there. And eventually landed back in Duluth which was only 3 hours away from her, but our careers, life, kids and commitments got in the way. I had no idea that my wedding would be the last time we would see each other for 33 years. 

At the cafe, I pounded her with questions about everything in those intervening years. Tributaries of our memories came rushing forth. She has experienced so many losses but Patty exudes a joy about her that is infectious. I couldn't get enough of her. She was always my leader and I always looked up to her for wisdom. Our lives have taken very different trajectories, but that didn't matter at all.

My beautiful lifelong friend Patty

Our reunion was indeed the high point of my week in the sunny south. After being with Patty for 15 minutes, I knew that if we had continued to live in the same city, we never would have lost our connection. For at its foundation, it is deeper than the roots on a North Dakota oak tree.

On that day in 8th grade, when my heart cracked open at her leaving me, a hole was created in me that I didn't even know I still had. In Florida 2 weeks ago, she returned that piece of my heart to me. For me, Patty was and always will be home.

Thursday, March 23, 2017


I interrupt this programming to shamelessly share with you a clip of Sam's play-by-play in a quarter final game in the state MN basketball tournament yesterday. He got the call for the game involving the #1 seed in the 4-A division. The game's last half was especially good, but the last 5 minutes were really good, and the last 15 seconds were great. Sam's call is of the tie-game's last 2 seconds.

The clip has had 90,000 views and has been on ESPN and WCCO and a Sports Illustrated website. The way the whole thing came together has God's hand prints plastered all over it. I take great comfort in knowing God has a plan for Sam's life.....a plan to prosper him (Jer 29:11). Who knows what could evolve in Sam's future someday from someone who heard him broadcasting yesterday? 

It is pretty cool clip. Tears spring into my eyes every time I watch. Note that the last scorer had not scored the entire game. Check it out.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017


So thankful to still be able to travel to Florida every spring break. Richie and I spent a week alone and then Sam and Gretchen came the second week. Had a very fun time. We followed through with all our "traditions".....Der Dutchman restaurant (where you leave when you are finally in a food coma), Kilwin's ice cream cones, Smuggler's Cove mini-golf, shuffleboard and pool. Lots of walks on the beach. After 30 years, we finally went and saw the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens.

My chemo prevents me from sun exposure so I had to be completely covered at all times, but I just put on my long-sleeved swimsuit and big hat and went to "sun" myself around the pool.The heat felt wonderful. After being bald and even now, having ugly kinky hair that doesn't grow, I am really beyond caring what others think of how I look. Cancer frees you in the realm of self-image.

The first day I laid out, I was 100% covered, except for the bottoms of my feet which I gave no thought to. Well, 15 minutes later, they were very burned and we had to run to CVS for lidocaine to try to deal with the pain. (it didn't help) Thus, shoes needed.

Here are a few pictures of our week.



Ice cream cones at Kilwin's

My most-beloved family

Celebrating being alive!!

Tuesday, February 28, 2017


After Mom came, my parents spent a second honeymoon in Paris. Their reunion was joyous. They moved into the 300-year-old house, but ate many of their meals with Madame Salm at the inn with other American army families. They moved a bed and Mike's crib into the kitchen to keep warm because the kitchen had an oil stove. There was no central heat. "Mike slept in his snowsuit between us the first night. It was that cold," Mom told me.

While Dad was at Captieux, Mom took long walks along the promenade and went to the market in the square. Her favorite friend was a vegetable farmer, Monsieur Garliss. He had a turtle that Mike loved. Garliss would take Mike behind his store and call for Fifi and the turtle would come. Mom was in her glory with all the beautiful flowers sold in the market.

I was in this picture!!

Neither of my parents were big wine drinkers, but the water wasn't safe so they drank more wine. When in France....  Mike was given evaporated milk diluted with chlorinated water. They bought bread and meat, fresh every day, at one of the market stalls.

When the Tour de France came through Bazas, as it still does to this day, they went to the highway to stand and watch the cyclists.

Life in Bazas was rich. They never felt that the "lacks" in their life were significant. Bed in the kitchen? So what? No indoor toilet? No problem. They were so content.

When the car arrived from the US, they felt their time there really took on a new level of excitement. They put 23,000 miles on the Chevy by taking trips all over Europe on weekends. They made up their own itinerary and just took off. They saw Spain and Italy and Netherlands. They spent time in many locations in France. They took in England and Germany and Switzerland. In the wintertime, they'd go to the ocean-side city of Biarritz and get a motel "so we could take a hot bath."

Traveling all over Europe with a toddler was easy-breezy in the '50's. No seat belts. "We'd plunk him in the back seat with a pile of books and a few bananas and we never heard a peep out of him." When they stopped for the night, they would have Mike run up and down the motel halls. He was speaking French quite fluently before they left just by playing with other children.

I wrote a book about (from interviews with them) their years in Bazas and I cherish knowing the details about this time they spent exploring another continent. Mom wrote details from every trip to her parents and Dad's and most of those letters still remain.

They stayed in touch with Madame Salm. She sent a dress and bonnet when I was born. I don't know if they stayed close to the Garliss family.

"I'd go back to Bazas tomorrow," Mom told me. "I don't know if there was ever another time in our lives that we were more carefree and we were surrounded by all that awesomeness of Europe."

Were the 2 years in Europe the highlight of their married life?

"Other than the joy of our children, it was. Absolutely," Mom confirmed. Dad echoed, "It was such a wonderful experience. I would do it all over again in a minute."

When I wrote the story of their life in France, I learned the "rest of the story," but I had never read these letters to Mom that Dad wrote to her. It filled in those missing months of Dad's life when they were apart.

I come away from all these letters from Dad knowing that my parents had an incredible love for each other. They lived a love story. I feel so lucky to have been born into that love and raised inside of their nurturing arms. 

Thanks, Dad, for leaving these letters for us. The journey with you through them has been a joy.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017


I am finished with 800 pages of letters. 400 pages, 2-sided. It has been a great journey with my dad, full of his angst and delight and worry and adventuresome spirit and longing. I have brought so very little to these little installments, so much less than what I have absorbed through his words. I just had to leave out so many wonderful details and anecdotes due to time and space. But I have loved reading his every long-hand stroke. And it has been fun to share the trip through the letters with my blog readers.

These last week of letters are filled with many housekeeping details about the trip. It takes away from the richer anecdotes about his work and life. I am sad to see this journey ending in such a mundane way, but all those travel details just means that Dad is getting closer to having his family with him again.

Dad asks Mom to send a trunk full of civilian clothes before she embarks. Why he didn’t bring them when he shipped over is beyond me. “At the moment, I am wearing red sox, grey flannels and a blue wool shirt and I feel like a million bucks. You can’t imagine how tired you get of army uniforms.”

I smile when Dad tells Mom about all the letters he gets every day…..from his parents, her parents, her aunts, his grandmother, his dad’s associates, friends from Jamestown (where they lived), and his little brother Bobby. Bobby came along 18 years after Dad. I’ve never asked Uncle Bob if he was a “bonus baby” or planned, but their middle brother was born when my dad was 10 so Grampa and Grama had some wide gaps in child rearing. Dad had already left for college at UND when his baby brother was born but they became close. Bobby, age 9 or 10, would write Dad in France these long one-full-page letters with details about life back at the home place and it delighted him.

“I had another letter from Bobby today. He sure writes good letters. He wants a letter just to himself so I’ll have to write to him.” And a week later, “Got a couple more letters from Bobby again. He sure is good about writing and writes the best letters. I really enjoy them.” Dad would be crushed if he knew that his brother would, 60-years later, be fighting cancer.

He is talking with his buddy Bob about how they would love to begin a small medical practice together when they return to North Dakota. Problem was Dad was already hired at Jamestown Clinic and they were paying a portion of his salary as an incentive for him to return there, so the idea lost steam.

The last letter is dated Saturday JANUARY 28,1952, and under the date he writes, 16 DAYS TIL CHRISTMAS. Seeing my mom and brother was a Christmas morning present that he couldn’t wait to open in February! He ends with this:

I am getting so antsy I can hardly wait for you to get here. I am in a new room at the Hotel Lion D’or and am very happy about it. Madame Salm moved me into Hans Stibold’s room. I’m alone now and have the nicest room in the hotel….new bed and all. Am very happy to be alone. Storment and I were incompatible (as roommates). Can now go to bed and get up when I like.

Gee, Darling, I’m happy tonight. You seem so close. I’m so anxious I don’t sleep well anymore. Meeting you and Mike will be as wonderful, or more so, than when we were married. Sure seems like ages since I left you weeping at the Fargo airport. Sometimes I get such an anxious feeling, I think I’ll bust before you get here. Hope our boy makes the trip OK. Hang on to him tight, honey.

Not much in this letter, darling, except that I sure love you with all my heart and it won’t be long now. Kiss for Mike.

All my love, Ed

One last post to come: The rest of the story

Saturday, February 18, 2017


For those of you who have wondered about the results of my Denver doctor's consult with me, I am relieved to tell you things are not dire. The new drug (his own) is not FDA approved and that is where my angst had its genesis. How long could I wait for this drug if mine is not working? Dr. K told me that April 29 is the federally mandated day that the FDA has to make a ruling. It could, by some miracle, become approved before that, but it HAS to be ruled on in 2 months. He sees no reason it won't go through. I would have access to it as soon as 2 weeks after it starts being distributed.

He wants me to stay on the chemo that is no longer effective, because it could be slowing any progression in the tumors until the new chemo is out. He was not too concerned about all the fluid in my lung cavity. My cancerous lung may be trapped (meaning, it won't descend into the cavity even after removing the fluid) so if I am not symptomatic, he wants me just to hold off on that. I guess it has good proteins along with the cancer cells! Go figure.
This is what they tapped out of me 2 weeks ago (a little over a quart). Hard to believe I didn't slosh when I walked!!

So the news is overall positive and I am not out of options, which I worried about. Looks like I can plan my summer! I am so blessed to have my Denver doctor who is such an expert in the type of cancer that I have that he is creating the chemo to combat it!!

Thank you for praying. Continue to pray that the FDA might come through earlier than April 29.

I continue to have faith in total healing someday. The drugs can't cure me, but God still can.

Monday, February 13, 2017



Dad is still in Nuremberg with friend Bob. He is becoming a shopper. Buying things for their future home back home. Hummels, musical beer steins; checking out Rosenthal and Limoges china sets, which they probably could never have afforded in the US. He tells Mom that they are going to leave Europe with some nice things, even if they don’t save a penny. I know that they also bought their parents many beautiful things in Europe.

I was amazed that the folks had already chosen the blueprint for the dream house they were going to build someday. Dad asks Mom to bring the specs with her so they can plan. The house was built when I was 6.

“Honey, did you receive the silk scarf and the French perfume I sent you?” and “Bring some fancy clothes with you for parties. When you get here, I will buy you a Paris creation and you’ll knock everyone’s eyes out.” Ah, he was so romantic!!

I am sad that Dad gets down a lot. He uses the word morose to describe himself. Tells Mom that he “will feel like living again after you and Mike get here. His daddy will have to give him lots of loving when he gets here----and Mama too!” I share his loneliness as I read.

Their separation during these many months, I am presuming, set the tone for the rest of their 64 years together. They were rarely apart for more than a week, when Mom would go to one of our homes when we had babies or when Dad took one of the boys on a fishing trip. They knew separation and never wanted it again. "Believe me, we're staying together every day possible from now on. We're just too close to be apart."

Dad is already checking the train schedule for Cherbourg, where Mom is going to disembark, so that he has all their ducks in a row. He is concerned about buying a baby bed and asks Madame Salm to price them out for him. She actually offers to buy one for them to use. He must have gotten the "shopping itch" out of his system during his years in the Army, because the only thing my dad liked shopping for, to my memory, was cars and cameras. 

I am high-fiving Dad for finally calling the Colonel in LaRochelle on the QT and asked him what was up with this major. When he heard the story, he whistled and almost blew his top. The Colonel guaranteed Dad that the unscrupulous major would be out of Dad's camp in 2 weeks. "My conscience tells me I did the right thing by reporting him, but I hope I don't get into a jam or have repercussions over it."

I am stoked as he tells me about the new hospital construction coming along well at Captieux and it promises to be one of the best medical facilities in the European theatre. Then, the surprise to me....he tells Mom that he heard a new OB/GYN center is being built in LaRochelle. "Maybe we'll have Catherine Ann here after all."

CATHERINE ANN? I was supposed to be a Catherine? Not that I dislike the name. I am just not a Catherine. I'm glad they re-thought the name options before I arrived!!

We're about 3 weeks away---

Sunday, February 5, 2017


I am at a crossroads. My chemo has stopped working. My scans last week yielded some good news and some not so good. My 4 remaining brain tumors are now 3. That's good. But I have 2 lung tumors that are growing and 3 new ones. I have accommodated to the chemo. A fourth generation drug which targets my cancer is developed but not yet FDA approved and could be months before it is. Unless God intervenes.

I will be consulting with my Denver doctor about my options. If the drug doesn't become available, I will be on a descending path of growing cancer. I don't know that there are any further options for me. 

I will know more after I talk to Dr. K in Denver.

My prayer request to any of my blog-followers who might want another cause to put on their prayer list: A miraculous rapid FDA approval of the drug I need.

How am I doing? I dropped my basket of faith for a few days and had to battle fear. But we went to Mpls to see the kids this weekend and I was able to still my soul enough to start gathering all the pieces of faith that I had dropped. I may be blindsided again this week, but I am trying to remain strong and positive. 

Saturday, January 28, 2017


I am interrupting my journey with my dad through his letters in order to share my thoughts. Maybe I am too apolitical or not culturally refined enough or not socially aware enough. I don’t know. But I just don’t get these Marches for Women that have overtaken the country. Women fighting for “women’s rights.” Color me perplexed. When did they LOSE their rights? As far as I know, women in the US still have all their rights intact. Where was I when the female population lost their constitutional rights?

I still have the freedom of speech. I can say anything, write anything, at any time, without reprisal. I can worship in the church of my choice. I could easily pass a background check and buy myself a pistol and start packin’ heat if I wanted to. Nobody prevented me from voting a couple months ago. If I am arrested for any reason, I have the right to an attorney and a trial jury.

I have the right to get in my car and go wherever I want. I can accept or reject any job I am offered. I have the right to assemble any group I so choose. I have the right to due process of law. I have the right to own a home and property. I can associate with anyone I choose. Oh, the innumerable blessings of my rights!

What do women think they have lost? If they are irked because their pay is not equal to their male counterpart’s pay, is marching down a street with a sign magically going to incite their boss to increase their pay by 10%? Have some chutzpa, ladies! Go HAVE A CONVERSATION with your superior. Face to face negotiation probably goes a whole lot better than marching down a street hoping your boss will be moved to promote you.

There IS one right that women currently don’t have. We don’t have the right to PREVENT the slaughter of our unborn.

To women considering abortion: In exercising YOUR legal right to abort your baby (it’s not a choice, it’s a child), you forever and always silence the rights of another. Another human being who will never know the rights you have.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017



My father is obsessed with cameras and camera accessories. He regales Mom with details about what he is currently purchasing to go with his fancy new Roloflex.  

He wants Mom to bring with her Cooke’s Tour of Europe book so they can travel a lot (which they did). Dad takes a trip to see his buddy Bob in Nuremberg, Germany. He takes a bus to Bordeaux and declares, “the French drive like hell” and “just manage to miss every other oncoming car.” I know this disturbs him as he is always a conscientious and safe driver. I assume he buses the next leg of the journey too. Nuremberg, an “ancient city with Roman walls” was heavily bombed during WWII. I am intrigued when he says that it was one Hitler’s favorite cities. In 1952 it was the location of the War Crimes Building. He and Bob enjoy being together again.

Dad feels as if the residents of Bazas are getting to know who he is. He is surprised when many of them acknowledge him on the streets in the town square with a “doktor” and a nod of the head.

He now is telling Mom that he thinks they should buy a Hillman Minx convertible since one of their dreams is to own a convertible someday. WHAT? With a baby? WHAT? My pragmatic parents? Of course, car safety was not of prime importance back then. It wasn’t until 1968 that seat belts were mandated in all cars. Obviously they thought (for a moment) that breezing across a dozen countries with the top down was romantic. Reason apparently usurped their romanticism and they ended up buying a Chevy.

The house at 43 Rue de la Taillade in Bazas
where I was conceived

My dad has scruples, he does. A lifelong trait. The major wants to lower the venereal disease rates in the camp. Now, one would think that some serious classes about sexual behavior and sexual safety would help. Oh no, this major wants to change some of the diagnoses of VD to “non-specific urinary infections.” Ethical issues even in the 1952 army. Seriously? Dad laments, “Getting mad at him is like hitting your head against a wall.”

Dad tells the major he is against lying about the statistics, but “has to cooperate” because he is outranked. What I love is when Dad says he has every intention of reporting the fraud and deceit to the Colonel when he comes! Good for you, Dad!

Dad is wistful about his baby boy. “I only hope he won’t be afraid of his daddy as he is probably going to be strictly a mama’s boy until he gets to know me again.” That thought must have been hard. (Apparently it only took a couple days and Mike and Dad were reconnected.)

Apparently Mom brings up pregnancy and Dad puts it quickly on the back burner. "The OB care and hospital are both too far and I would rather wait so we had one when we get home." Mom agreed with the wisdom and they waited another year to get pregnant.

I’ve always been a little miffed at them for not staying long enough to give me French citizenship. But their duty was over and Mom could not fly after 7 months so in my watery womb, I had to bid adieu to the City of Lights and come into the world in a good old Midwestern hospital. Not born in France, but being conceived there holds a special place in my heart.

25 more days…