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!