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Wrapping Up the Saga of the Rosary

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Okay, so it’s time to wrap up the whole rosary saga. The floral rosary from my husband’s casket that I sent away to be turned into silk flowers finally arrived on Tuesday morning, four months and one day after I’d mailed them in and three months and ten days since my check was cashed. Along with the silk flower rosary I’d also paid for a handheld rosary that I could pray. The handheld rosary was not in the package with the floral rosary so I called the company and spoke to the woman who had been helping me finally get the silk rosary delivered to my house. She expressed disappointment that I had not received the handheld rosary and told me it would be mailed that day. I didn’t make a big deal of it with her and I didn’t mention it on social media because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for all the effort people went to helping me get the rosary from Chuck’s casket. And, if I’m being truthful, I really didn’t care if it ever arrived, it was only $5 and it wasn’t tied to Chuck in any way, but when my contact at the company told me there was no tracking number because it had not been sent out yet I was really angry and ready to go as many rounds as I would have needed to get the handheld rosary. I just cannot understand the continued lying or misinformation.

 

It arrived today and is actually beautiful, but I just cannot wrap my head around why this company, who I would assume regularly deals with grieving family members, continues to either outright lie or just tell people what they think they want to hear rather than offering truthful explanations and providing honest timelines. If at any point during all of this someone at the company had bothered to return my phone calls and explained they were either swamped with more work than they could handle or were having processing or shipping problems and that I would just need to be patient I would have been understanding and patient. But, leaving a grieving widow without answers and leaving her to wonder if she’ll ever see the rosary again is just wrong and I can’t abide by that. I called in either late June or early July and that person told me they would call me back to tell me where the rosary was in the process, but never did. The first person I spoke to in early August told me, yes, I see your last name on the caller id and I know your rosary went out in the shipment on Friday, August 3. The second person I spoke to that same week promised to call me back with whatever information she could come up with after telling me there was no tracking number because they send packages via UPS and then it’s just gone. I left a voicemail the afternoon of Friday, August 10 to which no one has ever replied, nor has anyone replied to the email I sent on the evening of Friday, August 10 with a link to my original blog post.

 

I called Monday, August 13 and finally spoke to someone helpful, but I refused to allow her to call me back so I sat on hold for a short while only to find out the rosary had just come back ((I never did ask from where) and would be mailed out that day. So why for a full week did the company allow me to believe the rosary had been mailed out and that no one knew where it was and there was no way to track it? I really don’t understand why a company who deals with grieving loved ones would offer such lousy customer service? You would think they would want to treat the grieving, who are full of raw nerves and emotion, with sensitivity and understanding. I don’t know why this company continues to operate in complete disorganization or continues to lie to the grieving, but I’m grateful to not have to ever deal with them again. If it came down to it, I would dry the flowers in the original rosary or do without rather than ever send something so meaningful and precious to this company again. I could not deal with extraordinary mental and physical stress this whole saga caused.

 

If you ever find yourself in the heartbreaking position of having lost and buried a loved one I strongly suggest looking for a local florist who provides this service because I do not think the grieving should have to deal with what I can only suppose is a disorganized and possibly overwhelmed with work company who refuses to take the time to call customers back or reply to email.

 

I’m so grateful to the family and friends with connections in the USPS and UPS and the wonderful funeral director who jumped in to help me finally get the rosary home. Their help prevented me from having an actual nervous breakdown.

 

I’m still not going to share the name of the company. I don’t believe they are evil or trying to scam the grieving. I honestly believe they just can’t get their stuff together. Both rosaries are here and I’m no longer an emotional and physical wreck.  Thank you to all who jumped in to help and to all who offered emotional support, you really did keep me from having an actual breakdown.

UnSpoken Ink: Raw & Unfinished Snippets

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On Monday night Lacuna Loft’s Unspoken Ink fall session began. . The two pieces below are my writings from that session. Sometimes I forget the power of words, written and spoken. The object of the writing workshop is to write from the top of your head in the whole time allotted. As I was writing, By Heart I didn’t realize the emotions attached to the words I’d written but as I read it out loud to the group I broke down in tears. There’s so much magic in the art of writing. It allows me to open up and let words flow from my heart and mind; words I didn’t know were there until I sit down with pen in hand.

 

By the Numbers, was inspired by another writer’s response to the first prompt. I was struck by her use of the word grace in terms of walking and dancing. I used grace in terms of God’s grace in my second piece. I didn’t know where I was going with the number I’d chosen (8) until I started writing. While I was writing I assumed it was going to be me complaining in list form, but it became so much more; more than I knew about myself until it was there on the paper.

 

These Unspoken Ink workshops are so amazing and so good for me. They allow me to sit down and just write without overthinking everything and getting stuck in my head. They are freeing and so cathartic.

 

By Heart and By the Numbers are below.

 

 

By the Heart

 

Her pink hair flying in the wind, pedaling like hell to keep up, Annie thought,” It’s just like riding a bike my ass!” Sweating and puffing, cursing herself for believing Amelia this would be easy. Maybe it had been easier, maybe it had been easier 100 pounds, 30 years, and two cancer diagnoses ago but it definitely wasn’t now. “Who thought this was a good idea? What was I thinking?”  She knew the streets by heart, past the church where they were married, past the pizza shop where he worked, past the front steps of her parents’ house where he kissed her for the first time. Puffing and sweating, crying hot, salty, bittersweet tears of loss and longing. She knew this place, these streets by heart, this was home. Her pink hair flying, her broken heart pounding, sweat pouring down her back; she pedaled, because, it was just like riding a bike.

 

I took this photo in 2016 on the day I found out I was four years cancer free. As it turns out, it was the last time either Chuck or I could say we were cancer free. Chuck was diagnosed eight months later and my recurrence was found five months after Chuck’s diagnosis.

 

By the Numbers

 

8 years ago, this all began, 1 trip to the ER, 1 ambulance ride to the hospital that actually had a neuro department, 2 surgeries, 5 days I don’t remember, 1 cancer diagnosis, 10 days in ICU, 3 days in step down, 5 days in rehab, 32 radiation treatments in 8 weeks, 8 more surgeries, and 30 more radiation treatments, 1 dead husband, 1 year watching him die, and somehow, I’ve found my grace. Somehow, I’m more whole and more real. Somehow 8 years of sickness, loss, treatments, and uncertainty has brought me grace, and love, and strength; a life I didn’t know existed, a life I didn’t know I was allowed to have.

 

8 years, 1 cancer diagnosis, 1 cancer recurrence, 5 deaths, 10 surgeries, 62 radiation treatments, and an uncertain future have not robbed me of my soul. I walk in grace because I’ve walked through fire, questioned and am still questioning my faith, suffered, lost, and picked up the pieces. I am strong because I believe, I am brave because I have faith. I walk in grace because I have all of you.

 

I am lost…

I am found…

I am still here.

 

 

 

 

 

Help Me Get My Rosary

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I am so sorry to bother you with this, but I don’t know who else to ask for help with this. I’m so upset. I don’t know what to do. I’ve spent most of today a total wreck on the verge of tears.

When Chuck died in November I asked about having the funeral rosary made of flowers turned into one made of silk flowers and the nice woman funeral director gave me an envelope that I could mail into a company who does this. I mailed the flower rosary in on April 13 and requested both the silk flower rosary and a regular rosary. They cashed my check on May 4th. I called the company for the first time in either late June or early July and the woman I spoke to told me it normally takes 12 weeks from the date the check was cashed and told me she would call me right back to let me know where my rosary was in the process and never did.

August 3rd was 12 weeks so I called on Monday, August 6th to find out where my rosary was and I was told all rosaries were mailed out on Friday, August 3rd. I called back on Thursday, August 9th and the person I spoke to confirmed they have my correct address and told me they were sent out by UPS but could not provide me with a tracking number. She told me they give it to UPS and it’s gone. She told me she would call me back to try to give me more info and never did.

I called this afternoon and only got their voicemail. I told them if they didn’t call me back today that Monday morning my first call was going to be to the state attorney general to have them prosecuted for mail fraud, my second call was going to be to the Better Business Bureau, and third I was going to get on social media to tell my story. Even this didn’t motivate them to call me back. This was my 4th call since late June or early July.

Does anyone have any idea what I should do next? I’m beside myself and I can’t deal with this anymore, it’s making me sick. I need to find a way to resolve this issue and get Chuck’s rosary. On Monday it will be 4 months since I mailed my check in and 3 months and 10 days since they cashed my check. I honestly don’t know where else to go with this. I’m a wreck. I’m starting to feel like I did last May when I had the meltdown over the Kindle in the hospital and I can’t let myself get back to that place again.

I said my rosary earlier this evening and took a 20-minute nap, both of which helped calm the anxiety and I’m no longer on the verge of tears, but I don’t know where to go from here. Any help or suggestions as to what to do next would be very helpful.

I’m not going to share the name of the company. I don’t want to start a campaign against them, I just want the rosary from my husband’s casket.

 

Cry for a While then Choose to Smile Beautifully

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The third prompt during last night’s Lacuna Loft Unspoken Ink writing group was cry for a while then choose to smile beautifully.  I’m not at all certain that the changes these last two years have brought were the result of choices nor do I believe they are in any way serendipitous. Maybe God brought me to this point, maybe they are the result of a natural progression. I don’t really know the whys and wherefores and perhaps it’s better that way.

 

It was truly the worst of times, it was the best of times or is it the other way around? It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  What was Dickens getting at?

 

You take the good, you take the bad, and there you have the facts of life.  Where was the ‘80s sitcom going with its theme song? Where am I going with this piece? My life? Myself?

 

Chuck is dead, my cancer has either come back or my brain is being eaten by the radiation that (hopefully) decimated Larry. And yet, I’m living a life I didn’t know was possible or available to me. Through therapy and art, I’ve grown. I’ve learned my own self-worth. I’m likeable. I’ve learned that I am worth people’s time and that people do want to spend time with me and are not just tolerating me.

 

In the year and some odd months since I melted down in the hospital about my Kindle not charging. I’ve learned so much about myself and my hang ups and I continue to learn who and what I am. I’m more self-assured, I’m making and have made new friends. I am growing as a person. I am so happy and grateful for this new internal life that I didn’t understand I was worthy of or really even knew existed. I have found my inner feet, and they are strong and sturdy and beautiful and brave and likeable. I don’t hate myself anymore. I don’t feel I am less than and deserve less than everyone else. I’m lighter. I’m not weighed down with insecurity and self-loathing.

 

But, how can I be better when Chuck is gone? I’m more alone than I have ever been in my life. I went from my parents’ home to my husband’s home. I’ve never been on my own before. The house still feels empty and silent when I sneeze and there’s no one there to say, God Bless You. I still have days when my greatest accomplishment is getting out of bed and staying out. Where was this better, brighter me when Chuck was still alive? Where was this person while I was healthy and young? How did the worst days of my life bring about a better, stronger me? Did the worst of times forge this new inner life because there was nothing left to do but live? Did my battered and damaged brain send me the message, survival is insufficient? Did God?

 

Why did Chuck have to get sick? Why did my cancer have to come back right when I thought there would be smooth sailing ahead? Why did Chuck have to die? Did all these horrible, terrible, scary things have to happen to afford me this better inner life? Is sorrow the price of a beautiful smile?

 

Maybe the bravest, boldest, and brightest among us have nothing left to lose?

 

 

 

It’s Been a Year

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I have to admit, I never thought I’d be back here updating the cancer diaries, but here I am writing to you in the middle of the night, two weeks after my last oncologist appointment; an appointment where I learned a year after my last surgery there is a small amount of the growth. Growth that might be radiation necrosis or tumor growth.

 

A year ago tonight, I was in the PACU unit of the hospital recovering from brain surgery to remove the cancer that stole my eyesight. How could it be I’ve come this far and lost so much in the process only for it to be possible I might be back at the start again? This time as a widow. Why is the universe so cruel? I’m terrified. There’s only so far bravery and tenacity can take you. I can hang in there with the best of them and have for the last eight years, but how many rounds does the universe expect me to fight through? I want my second act damn it. I want to be free from cancer and from fear. I want a life, a full one that does not include MRIs every three months and oncologist appointments and pills three times a day to keep the radiation treatments from eating my brain.