rharris's Journal

I'm in several groups on this site and wanted to add something more personal about myself for my friends... to know me better. 

I was raised in church and taught to pray and have faith in my Lord, Jesus Christ.  My family was very poor - we lived in the mountains of east TN. My parents worked very hard in tobacco fields and on farms, but still struggled to make ends meet and take care of a family of five (I'm the youngest of three girls). We lived on a small farm where my dad worked and had a garden, which kept us fed most of the time. Our landlord and his wife would often bring meats over b/c "they had too many in their freezer". Of course, now I know they were helping us.  Hand-me-down clothes got us all excited! Anyway, our family was so close and loving that I didn't realize we were poor until I was much older. We even had an outhouse! I'm 35 so not many people my age have had an outhouse -- it was yellow! My daddy was a flannel shirt/blue jean wearing hunter who always teased and cut up. He was a strict daddy but very loving.  My mom was a petite lady with a big heart.  When cabbage patch dolls became popular, we couldn't afford them, so she made us dolls instead.  I still have mine...her name is Gloria.  We were a very close family, always, and my mom was my best friend...always.  When I was 14, my dad decided to move us to NC in hopes of finding better jobs, so that's how I ended up here.

Last summer was when we first started noticing that something was wrong with my mom.  She had lost a lot of weight (she's small anyway) and she just looked sick. She came to my house to help me paint in September and her belly was swollen. She had an appointment for a physical in early October, only b/c my sister and I made her schedule and told her we'd pay for it. She had been unemployed and didn't have insurance, so she couldn't afford to go. Anyway, she didn't feel good that day...her stomach hurt and was very swollen (we now know it was ascites).  I told her that if anything ever happened to her, I'd be devastated. I just knew that something was wrong. In early October, she went to the emergency room for the swelling...I went to be with her and she cried b/c she was so scared. They told her she had cirrhosis of the liver and gas, and sent her home. She then visited a surgeon who did a CAT scan and told us that her stomach was "full of large, angry tumors".  From there, we started chemo and our journey with ovarian cancer.  God never left us...not once.

My daddy was, I'm sure, devastated by the news of my mom's cancer.  They had been married for 39 years and she did everything for him.  I first received the news from the physician, told my sisters and then we told my parents.  Their reaction was not of surprise but resolve...to beat it. My daddy started doing everything for her...cleaning house, running errands, etc. He constantly told her how much he loved her and how he couldn't live without her. On November 26, he decided to run out to get his truck inspected.  He kissed my mom, niece and nephew and told them he'd be right back. My mom called to wish me Happy Birthday...it was my 35th birthday.  She told me that Daddy had been gone for awhile and she was worried. I immediately got worried b/c I knew he wouldn't leave her for long at all.  A few minutes later, three police cars pulled into her drive.  She told me she'd call back and I knew that they were bringing bad news...I immediately started trying to reach my sisters. I called Mom back and she was in shock...she said that he was gone.  An off-duty EMT had found his truck off the road just 1-2 minutes from their house. He'd never made it to the garage...he pulled out of their drive, went to the stop sign, and right after he turned on the next road, he went off the left side and hit a tree.  He had been there for about an hour when they found him.  Of course, he was already gone. I told my mom that I could imagine God giving them that last good-bye, then waiting just around the corner to take Daddy home.  I was very upset, at first, that he died on my birthday.  Once I thought about it, though, I realized what a beautiful gift he'd given me.  Daddy believed in Jesus Christ and he'd chosen MY birthday to go home and meet Him. What a gift...

Mom's grief has been more overwhelming than the cancer at times. My grief comes and goes since we are taking care of her... it hits me when I least expect it, like this week.  I wear a necklace with my dad's ashes in it and I take him with me wherever I go. I talk to him and know he hears... and miss him more than i ever thought possible.

If you all want to hear it, I'll continue this story later. I know it's long! I have a lot of funny, family stories that I will share if anyone wants to hear.  I'm currently writing them for my boys...to have them when I'm gone so they never forget what wonderful people their grandparents are. 

Have a blessed night!