Today I give blood

In my eulogy at Jim's funeral, I told a story about how Jim was always ready with a joke - even when we were waiting for news of what would be he needed a blood transfusion. I believe blood transfusions were one of Jim's fears about having cancer treatments - he really didn't want to have one. Mark and I were out giving Kate a break when Dr. Kumar decided Jim needed to have that dreaded blood transfusion, and so the three of us headed out to the hospital. Not the day Jim had planned.

When we originally arrived in Kohler, Jim looked good. We borrowed a wheelchair from the Vince and took him on errands one day. He bought the Little Miss Sunshine DVD and was excited to watch it with us. He must've felt good because he talked to Mark about pushing him around the airshow at Oshkosh. He'd never been there and was pretty interested in seeing it - especially with his brother-in-law who's the most knowledgeable person about airplanes we know. That was the day we had planned. It became clear to me the night before that we weren't going to make it the airshow. I kept the guest room door open that night, and hardly slept a wink, all the time keeping an ear on Jim's breathing. By morning, I was scared stiff and so was Jim - he was so weak and couldn't breathe.

As we settled into the hospital room, they came to take a dinner order. At this point, Jim is really upset he has to get a blood transfusion. They've already given him IV fluids at the Vince for two hours, so he's physically a little better. We've called Kate and asked her to come home. Into Jim's room comes the volunteer to take his dinner order. Now Jim hasn't eaten more than a spoonful of solid food in weeks - we're just trying to get enough calories in him via shakes to keep him from losing anymore weight. So Mark and I are quite perplexed when Jim orders a lot of food. And as he's ordering he's saying things like "I really like blue cheese dressing on my salad. Do you have blue cheese?" and "Oh - the carrot cake sounds really good - I'll have that and the jello." After he's all done ordering he says to the girl "Oh, and do you have those Ensure shakes? I'd like one of those." She leaves and I look at him quizzically and he says "Hey, I'm paying for it. You guys might as well eat if I can't!" Then he laughs. HE LAUGHS. God, I love him.

They get him all "plugged in" and over the next 4 hours, he gets 2 units of blood. His color starts to return and his condition isn't scaring me as much anymore. As I watch the blood drip down the lines, I think "Why don't I give blood?" At one time I didn't weigh enough to give, but that barrier to giving has long since been torn down! I'm adamant about organ donation - signing my driver's license, a paper at my lawyer's office, and making my wishes clear to Mark and my parents. But blood donation just wasn't on my radar. Maybe I had a fear of it being taken out, like Jim had a fear of it being put in. That's just stupid - so I came home and signed up to give blood. I've given the 2 units Jim needed back into "the system" and today I go for the first time to "pay it forward." Today I get to help someone else's brother, sister, mother, father, daughter, son, aunt, uncle, cousin, friend... like someone else selflessly helped mine.

So, if you haven't given blood - ever, or in a while, - please take the time to go. Jim never made it to Oshkosh. I told him there was always next year, but he shook his head "no." He knew. But with your blood donation, perhaps someone can make it to Oshkosh next year. Please give.

What would you say?

So here's my dilemma — Kate got the idea from her grief support group of putting up Jim's stocking, writing him a letter and having the kids draw him pictures, then put them all in the stocking. Mom liked the idea and thought it would be helpful for us to do too. I thought the idea was great until I actually thought about what I should write. Now I'm overwhelmed with indecision.

When I went out before Jimmy died, our last conversation was "the goodbye for now" discussion. As I pondered what I needed or wanted to say to him, I realized that there was nothing left to say - we had lived our lives as brother and sister that left nothing unsaid. We knew we loved each other, adored each other's children, and had been there for one another 150%. So I said that and he agreed. I told him I loved him, would miss him every day I had left on earth, I made him promise to meet me when it was my time, and that was that. Okay, well that was that with lots of tears, a huge lump in my throat, and a searing pain in my heart.

When I heard the song "Your Long Journey" off of the Raising Sands CD, it spoke to me. I put together the video clip on this blog that showed that togetherness, the happiness, the love, I had for my little brother. The lyrics of the song expressed my emotions. I don't feel any different today than when I put that together. Perhaps I'll burn the video to DVD, write a short note, and put that in the stocking. Hopefully, Mom won't think that's a big cop-out.

Two excellent books

Since Jim died, I've read two phenomenal books - Final Gifts - Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying by Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelley, and Surviving the Death of a Sibling - Living Through Grief When an Adult Brother or Sister Dies by T.J.Wray.

The first book, Final Gifts, I wish I'd read in those final weeks of Jim's life. The book jacket says "When someone we love is dying, it's hard to know how to help, what to do, what to say." I thought that I did pretty good...I still believe that, but I think I could've done better if I'd read this book earlier. I believe that Jim knew he was dying before I did (or at least was able to admit it to myself). It frightened me, made me terribly uncomfortable. But the fact was Jim was dying. Had I read this book earlier, I believe I could have been less fearful and been able to talk with Jim about it earlier and easier.

The second book is a blessing for any sibling who's grieving the loss of another sibling. I found it through the Web site of an organization called Compassionate Friends. It's wonderfully written, full of personal and relatable stories. Siblings are often the "forgotten bereaved." She talks about the sad fact that when an adult loses a brother or a sister, society often fails to recognize the depth of such a loss. It's just a phenomenal book. I'd read others on sibling grief and this was by far, the best one.

Merry Christmas Little Brother

Snow!

I laced up the running shoes today for a short run. There was a steady snowfall and it was just so peaceful and beautiful outside. I love running in the snow. As I ran, I thought about Jim the entire 3.5 miles. Jimmy loved the snow. As kids, one of the few things that could bring us together to play without bickering was fresh snow. We'd play for hours together in the backyard in the fresh snow - many times with our dog Charlie. We'd come inside and Mom would make us cocoa. Today's run was a peace-filled one. I took Kai with me. I miss Jimmy terribly, but this morning running in the snow, I felt as if he was there with me - enjoying the snow, the quiet, the peace.

Today's snowfall in our backyard

I found a poem about the snow I really liked. It was posted with permission on the Web site I found it on. I just gave credit where credit was due.

Snow

Snow falling. Fallen snow.
Night windless, roadways white.
White the branches and the earth.
The special silence of a snowy night
Stopping what we ordinarily do.
We feel no need, the whiteness is enough.
Were we lonely? We are no more.
Here's a peace that's free of cloying,
This calming plainness over all.

What mystery is unfolding here?
How does the innocence of season,
Mere concurrence of the elements,
Bring hope? Because the rain has chilled?

But it also covers death, the fallen,
Guilt. Jars memory. Melts.
And it will turn to filth.
Here is winter after all, the grave
Of growing-and the poor are cold.

Still promises are stirring,
Resolution's aura swells.
While the moment's white and still,
We will survive. Though brief
The respite, whatever ails us will
Stand aside. While snowing, while quiet.

10/8-ll/24/95, 2/10-2/13/98, 12/18/06
Copyright 1995, 2006 by Maurice Leiter

Two years and just nine seconds!

HEADING TO THE FINISH LINE!

Well I made it through the Jingle Bell Run! Let me tell you, it was snowy and chilly on the way there. I've been going to the chiropractor for a few weeks trying to resolve a plantar fasciitis issue. I had it last year too, only I kept running without treatment and had some tendons decide to let loose on their own. OUCH! So I was pretty pleased that I finished in 30:31 - under a 10 minute mile. I'd say that was pretty good for being over forty, but the top woman finisher was 45 and she finished in 19:56. OUCH again! I also didn't beat Jim's best time. He did the Charlotte Skyline 5K RUN on APRIL 23, 1999. He came in at 27:15:
JIM MARVENTANO 29 M CHARLOTTE NC 27:15 8:48.
I also didn't beat his worst time: Hopebuilders 5K Charlotte, NC, October 16, 1999
JIM MARVENTANO 30 M CHARLOTTE 29:56 9:40
I've got some work to do!


Jim laughed so hard when he saw my baby blue neck gaiter. Mom gave me a matching hat, gloves, and coat too, so Jim really got to see a picture of the full dork effect! I miss his teasing so much.

This is the photo on my shirt. It says "Running with an Angel - Jim Marventano 1969-2007"

So how do I get to the title of my post - Two years and just nine seconds?
From Johnny's Run Like Hell 5k in 2005: Judi Kling F 40 30:40
From Jingle Bell 5k in 2007: Judi Kling F 42 30:31
In two years worth of running, I've improved a total of 9 seconds. Ugh!


A portion of the Dashing Reindeer team, waiting for the start.

I ended up raising $585 - beyond my goal of $10 for every year I had the privilege of being a big sister. So I'm pretty proud of that. I'm going to try and keep running for Jim. Today the snow is coming down horizontally, so it's going to be difficult to stay motivated, but he was so proud of me for doing it that I have to keep going. Next up? The Lilac 10K in May. I'll keep you posted!

Running

Last year when Jimmy was diagnosed with cancer, he was training with me to run the 2006 Rochester Marathon Relay. We had a team made up our Mom, our Uncle Bob, and the two of us. Jim was so proud of me for starting to run when I turned 40 and was my own personal cheerleader/motivator/coach.

Over the past year, as Jimmy fought his cancer, I had a tough time getting out and hitting the pavement. I just couldn't do it without him. I also had a lot of unresolved guilt. At the end of July 2006, I went to visit him and we went running together. I kicked his ass. Then I teased him mercilessly. Seemingly the perfect run for an over-40, big sister! I should've known something was wrong. Come on...I'm not an athlete, I was 41, he was 4-years younger than me and a foot TALLER - which means a longer stride. I should've known. Instead I wrote it off to the tiredness that comes with just having a new baby, and basked in the euphoria of a moment of being superior, as only a sibling can. Now I know in my head that never in a million years would the medical community have found his colon cancer because he was tired and couldn't run. Maybe...maybe...they would've done a blood test and saw an elevated CEA level, but at that time it was only two months before the tumor blocked his colon and I'm sure by then it was pretty extensive. I realize in my head that even if I had pushed him and they found it in August, it really wasn't soon enough to make a difference. But that doesn't make it any easier in my heart. And so, I stopped running.

As I deal with my grief, I decided to begin running again - entering races in his honor. I hope to make him proud once again. I've chosen my first race as the Jingle Bell Run, a 5K fun run to benefit the Arthritis Foundation. I didn't have the strength to make my first run a run for cancer...I would've cried the entire 3.1 miles. Our Grandmother suffered from arthritis, so I believe Jim would like that I picked this as one of my first runs. Plus he'd get a kick out of me running in reindeer ears! Wish me luck and I'll post a photo with me crossing the finish line.

Your Long Journey

Vocals: Robert Plant & Alison Krauss from "Raising Sand" 2007

The Illusion of Permanence

Again from T.J. Wray's book

"Because siblings are united by a common bond forged in childhood, we live with the expectation that we'll somehow always be together as we journey through life. Oh we may divert from the common family path from time to time to pursue our own callings, but only our brothers and sisters know the way back to the original road where, together, we began our odyssey. In an uncertain world that is ever changing, chances are that your brother or sister has been a constant in your life, all your life. Losing a sibling, then, destroys the illusion of permanence in a more profound way than other deaths. Indeed, we take for granted that our siblings will be there to help us cope with the death of our parents, and we assume that our siblings, who are usually close to us in age, will grow old alongside us. Naturally, we feel abandoned when this assumption is decimated by death. Of course, abandonment issues are particularly difficult when you've lost your only sibling."

Forgetting How to Breathe

From "Surviving the Death of a Sibling" by T.J. Wray

"The year my brother died, I forgot how to breathe. Often it would catch me unaware, that terrible feeling that I was suffocating—at work, at home, sometimes at night, as I tried to sleep. As if I had drawn a breath but simply forgotten how to exhale. ... The year my brother died, I forgot how to breathe, and no one seemed to notice. Oh, they might have noticed a bit at first, but after a few weeks I could be walking around with my face turning blue and no one would say a word. After all, it was only my brother; I should get over it. My brother. In the stillness of the early mornings when I have the house all to myself. I can recall his face and the sound of his voice so clearly that I'm often surprised, when I wake from my reverie, by his palpable absence."

"The sibling relationship is more complex than nearly any other, a mixture of affection and ambivalence, camaraderie and competition. Aside from your parents, there is simply no one else on earth who knows you better, because, like your parents, your brothers and sisters have been beside you from the very beginning. Unlike your parents, however, your siblings are people you assume will be part of your life for the rest of your life too. In terms of the span of time, the intimacy, and the shared experience of childhood, no other relationship rivals the connection we have with our adult brothers or sisters. From schoolyard bullies to teenage broken hearts, from careers to marriage to dreams unfulfilled, our siblings have been there through it all, life partners in our journey through time. They are the keepers of secrets, perennial rivals for our parents' affections, and a secure and familiar constant in an often precarious and uncertain world."

"Although each child is an individual member of a family, he or she is also part of a larger circle—a circle that helps to define who we are and provides a link to our shared past. Losing a sibling, then, can also mean losing a part of yourself, part of that special connection to the past. How do we learn to live with the broken circle that is now our family?"

Photo: Judi and Jimmy circa 1972.

In Loving Memory
James Robert Marventano
May 28, 1969 to September 17, 2007

On September 13th, 2006 cancer overtook our lives like a tsunami overtakes the shore. It came without warning. It consumed us. For the past year, we struggled to keep our heads above water, holding on to Jim for dear life. When the waters finally receded, the landscape of our lives was forever changed. In its wake, cancer had left dashed hopes, unanswered prayers, shaken faith, deep sadness, heart-wrenching pain, and an emptiness that can’t be filled. But my brother hated being defined by his cancer. He hated everything about it – the hospitals, the medicines, the routine of a chemotherapy patient. He just wanted to be “Jim” and he wanted his life back. For a few minutes, I’d like you to put aside your grief and remember with me “Just Jim” and his life.

May 28th, 1969 – 4 years and 14 days into my comfy life as an only child, James Robert Marventano, my little brother, was born. Early pictures show a “dissatisfied with my new situation puss.” I cried for what I believed I lost by having a new baby join my family. But even at a very young age, Jimmy had an infectious smile that engulfed everyone around him. It was a smile that came from his soul and lit up the room. He won me over and I settled into my role as the bossy, protective, older sister.

As a little guy, Jimmy showed us that he inherited more than his middle name from our Uncle Bob – he inherited a phenomenal sense of humor and a propensity for mischief that his wife Kate called “Jim being naughty.” Jimmy perfected his skill for teasing on poor Uncle John. Jimmy was either so sly or so well-loved, that Aunt Shirley never saw Jimmy’s part in the shenanigans – only yelling at JT for his part in the hijinks. This made Jimmy sparkle even more, knowing he’d once again pulled off the perfect caper. Bennet Alfred Cerf said “The person who can bring the spirit of laughter into a room is indeed blessed.” That was certainly true of Jimmy. He wasn’t one of those people who tried to be funny. He just was. When Jimmy was in the room, I would often end up laughing so hard that my sides hurt and I cried. Even towards the end, with serious conversations, he made it a point to make me laugh. As we were waiting together for what would be the news he needed a blood transfusion, he said to me “Jude, you’ve been such a great sister. So much help to me and Kate. I don’t think if the tables were turned, I would’ve been as much help to you.” With tears in my eyes, I told him I was sure he would have been great. In true Jimmy form, a twinkle came to his eyes, he smiled, and said “Nope. I’m pretty sure I would’ve gotten off the phone with you, turned to Kate and said “Man, my sister’s screwed. Can you get me a bowl of ice cream?” To which we both immediately burst with laughter and I replied “You ass.” Jimmy had once again turned what could have been a sad memory for me into one of laughter.

If you had a chance to look at the photo boards of Jimmy’s life, you can tell he loved the outdoors. Whether it was out in the state lands near Owasco hunting and fishing with our uncles and cousin Drew, or up on the lake at his in-laws in Wisconsin, Jim was in his element. He was thrilled when Kate’s dad, Tom, asked him to join the Musky Marauders, and he proudly wore his Marauder moniker – Ojibwa Jim – on coats, hats, and whatever else could be printed up. He nurtured a love of nature in his daughter, Rachel. Jim was just as proud of his daughter’s first fish as he was of his own (and I quote) “just ½” shy of Marauder prize-winning Musky.” Jimmy’s other passion was woodworking. A skill he learned from our dad, who in turn had learned it from his. As we were preparing for this service, Reverend Josephson smiled when we told her of Jim’s phenomenal woodworking skills. She told us that as she heard about Jim’s skill, she saw, in her mind’s eye, a picture of Jimmy, our granddad, and one of the Bible’s original builders – Noah – side-by-side in Heaven, sawing and hammering. If so, I have to believe Jim’s pretty happy.

But there was another side to Jim – like our mom, he was thoughtful and caring in an easy-going, nonchalant way. He was a guardian soul – appearing as if out of nowhere when people needed him most. He truly cared about others and we’ve heard so many stories from people who knew Jim throughout his 38 years of how he looked out for them. As a senior in high school, he was the great protector of quite a few freshmen. In college, Jim comforted a girlfriend’s roommate when her mother died of ovarian cancer. He rushed to the hospital to be one of the very first people to hold my daughter, Kirsten, when she was born – immediately claiming his new status as an awesome uncle. Everyone has a story, many times more than one, of how he was “Just Jim” and he made them feel special and not alone.

I’d love to be able to say that Jim and I were two peas in a pod, joined at the hip, best friends. But the reality is we were brother and sister – our lives like sine and cosine waves drifting apart and coming back together. Tied to the same axis, I always knew Jim wasn’t far away and he knew the same was true of me. As kids, we’d been brought up in the company and love of an extended family that went out farther than the root structure of an old oak tree. We appreciated and enjoyed the times when our lives intersected.

Jim’s best friend was his wife Kate. I knew she was something pretty special when at Easter 1994, Jimmy gathered up his 2-year-old, chicken-pox-laden, niece on his lap and said “Come on Kate – get in the picture!” She saw how Jimmy and Kirsten adored one another, so she bravely put on a tentative smile, and hovered behind the two of them for the photo op – careful not to make any physical contact. Kirsten approved and Kate became a favorite just like Uncle Jim. The wave of my brother’s life soon included Kate as his wife, the best sister-in-law I could ask for. Jim’s uncle status grew to include a nephew, Sean. Never one to let an opportunity pass him by, Jimmy encouraged his nephew in all things football and groomed Sean since almost birth to be the next generation Jets fan.

Jim was happy. But happiness wasn’t done with Jim just yet and on August 13th, 2003, his own daughter, Rachel Eileen was born. Rach was the apple of Jim’s eye, his own ray of sunshine. Kate and I often teased him about his little-old-lady-like overprotectiveness, but the reality is, he was the best parent I’ve ever seen. Rach and Jim were two peas in a pod – totally inseparable. Three years later, Jim and Kate were blessed again, this time with a son – Jake Thomas. I came to visit them after Jake was born and Jim was just bursting with happiness. During that visit we realized how much we missed one another and we were happy our lives had intersected again. We made plans to do some fun trips – trips to bring our kids together as cousins, just as we’d been brought up with ours. Unfortunately, three months later, we learned cancer had other plans for us.

Jim’s fight this past year was pure Jim – on his own terms with as much humor as he could muster. He must’ve been scared stiff each time Kate and I, with our newly-minted Google medical oncology degrees, discussed his next set of treatment options, but he didn’t let on. I guess he figured Dr. Haid would intervene if we decided to ship him off to Bora Bora for snake-bite acupuncture. Which, believe me, if Kate and I thought it would’ve cured him, he would’ve been on the first fast boat out into the Pacific Ocean. But cancer doesn’t care who loves you, who you love, or how much. It doesn’t care about the dreams you have for your future. And so, on September 17, 2007 – 38 years, 3 months, and 19 days after I became a bossy, protective, older sister, my not-so-little-anymore brother, quietly passed away. The waters of our own personal tsunami receded much more quietly than they came in. Today I cry again, this time not for what I believed I lost, but for what I know I did.

The Koran states “He deserves paradise who makes his companions laugh.” I hope that is true and Jimmy has his paradise.

Kate's recent post on Jim's Beating The Cancer was about how much they love their dogs - Palmer and Major. Kirsten absolutely adores them too. She could never wait to take the dogs to the park with Uncle Jim when we visited. The little pipsqueak wanted to be in charge of walking one all by herself and loved to throw their ball until it was a total gross and slimy mess. (Then Uncle Jim clued her into using the lacrosse stick to throw the ball!)

Now this picture is a favorite of mine of Jim & Kate pre-human kids. You can see, just like she said, Palmer and Major were the practice run for them for real kids. Okay...well practice run for her. Jim was always a fan of kids and adored his niece from day one. He came up to the hospital and was one of her very first three visitors with my mom and dad (Mimi & Papa).

A little bit about the books...

The list seems to need a little embellishment. So I thought I'd post a few words about the books I've listed.

"The Other Boleyn Girl" - I've wanted to read this since it came out, but just never got around to it. I have to admit, it is quite thick and I thought it'd take a while to read. Well, that was wrong - it was a very quick read. It doesn't matter that you know in the end that Anne Boleyn was beheaded, the story is just great.

"In My Hands..." - My sister-in-law sent this to Mark for his birthday. We'd never heard of it. Mark is part Polish and this story was about a Polish woman during Nazi and Russian occupation during WWII. It was so good, he read it in a day. Kirsten picked it up and finished it almost as quickly. It took me less than a day to read too. Very interesting book and a different perspective on the story of the Holocaust.

I'll put the Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins books in the same paragraph, as they deal with the same subject matter - religion and God. "The End of Faith" is a good book, but a difficult read. It has a notation section almost as large as the text itself. Sam Harris also sounds angry in many sections. "The God Delusion" is an easier read. They quote each other often in their texts. If you've ever felt not great about religion or wondered if we can possibly solve the crisis in the Middle East, I'd recommend reading these books. If you're religiously devote - you won't like them at all.

"The Time Traveller's Wife" - I got this book for my 40th birthday and couldn't put it down. I passed it around to all my friends. It's got a great theory of time travel - you can only travel within your own lifetime and experiences, you can move forward and back, and you visit your own "self" at that point in time. At first, you get hung up on trying to figure out the dates for each chapter, but eventually it gets easier to follow and you realize exactly where he is within his lifetime. Excellent fiction book.

"Stiff..." - My brother recommended this one. It's all about what happens to your physical body when you die. It's not for the faint of heart. I'll admit that there were times when I was squirming reading a particularly gross section. For people who like science, it is a phenomenally cool read. It is also really funny in places.

"My Sister's Keeper" - I have to say, as a general rule, I like all Jodi Picolt's novels. But this one had me on the edge of my seat and I absolutely SOBBED the last pages of the book. I couldn't put this one down and the ending just blew me away.

New page element

So what to do with a blog? It's not like my life is full of exciting moments to chronicle for all the world to see. So I've decided to keep a running list of books I read that I would recommend to others. Scroll down to take a peek at my new page element called Judi's Bookshelf. Reading is fun!

Enjoy!