Obituary, celebration (viewing), and funeral information

 Time for bed but I wanted to share a little information:

LeeR's Obituary can be viewed by clicking here: Obituary

Tomorrow, well, actually today, I guess, we will be having a celebration of LeeR's life at our home in Midway from 6-8 p.m. Bring a sweater. Hopefully you won't need an umbrella. If you would like to bring a finger food to share, please do. If you need directions to our home or our address, please email us at LeeR.Lambert@gmail.com.

Thursday at 11:00 we will hold funeral services for LeeR in the Midway Stake Center (165 N. Center Street, Midway, UT 84049). A viewing will be held one hour prior to the service. ALERT: you may want to carpool and plan on arriving 15-20 minutes early because preparations for Swiss Days will be in full swing and parking may be a problem. Our stake president, bishop, and leaders are taking lots of precautions to make sure there is room to park and that we will not be disturbed during our service, but we are all concerned. One of those precautions is asking us to notify our friends and family of this concern and asking them to carpool and arrive early. Done.

Our family is looking forward to seeing many of you tomorrow, oh, yeah, actually today (Wednesday) or Thursday. We love you and cherish our relationships. Thank you for your support and your sweet comments on this blog. We are so blessed to have you in our lives. Much love! (and keep smiling...)

I miss him so much!

Forever sweethearts

My sweetheart went home yesterday surrounded by loved ones on both sides of the veil. Sadness and joyfulness at the same time. Oh how we miss him. I'll write more later but wanted our blog friends to know. We will have a celebration of his life on Wednesday at our home from 6:00-8:00 and the viewing and funeral will be Thursday at the Midway Stake Center at 10:00 and 11:00, respectively. Thank you all for your support, prayers, and love.We are truly blessed.

What A Glorious Day!

We went to the temple today. It was glorious.

A week or so ago when one of our daughters said that after a seven-year hiatus she was hoping to return to the temple again soon, LeeR said, "even if you have to pull me in a wagon with broken legs and broken arms hanging out over the edges, I'll be there." His arms and legs weren't broken but are pretty much immovable and we didn't need to use a wagon but instead rigged up his lounge chair in the back of another daughter's van, but, as promised, he was there. Wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles.

The three of us were joined at the temple by all of LeeR's siblings, a daughter and son-in-law,  two sisters-in-law,  nieces and a great niece, and an amazing visiting teacher. And we were greeted at the door of the temple by the temple president, who wanted to shake LeeR's hand and welcome him to the temple. Did I say the entire experience was glorious? LeeR was able to go through the session, thanks to wonderful accommodations made by the temple presidency and workers. Then we reunited in the Celestial room--a glorious reunion. I'm sure it pales to the glorious reunion that will take place for us in a few years and the glorious reunion LeeR will have with loved ones soon, but glorious it was, nevertheless.

Here we are with LeeR's three brothers, sister, and sister-in-law after the temple and in the car ready to return home:

I haven't updated the blog for a week, I guess. Time is just kind of standing still for me. I really didn't realize it had been that long. So here is a little capsule of the past week:

• We are now on hospice
• The hospice doctor and nurse feel that we probably only have a week or two left
• LeeR's pain is under control, thankfully
• His body appears to be shutting down: kidneys, loss of appetite, periods of confusion, fluid in his lungs, inability to focus or even open his eyes sometimes, very deep breathing, muscle contractions, vomiting, and, of course, extreme and debilitating fatigue
• He hasn't mentioned playing his alphorn at Swiss Days for a few days
• He went to the temple! 
• He still smiles and makes jokes and thanks us and tells us how much he loves us--LOTS!
• He is loved more than we can express, but we do try--LOTS AND LOTS!
 

The prognosis

As we arrived home from the doctor's today, LeeR's brother Gordon met us in the driveway to help us into the house. When he asked how the visit with the doctor went, LeeR said, "Well the prognosis is that I have 0 to 50 years left to live." Yup. It's true.

I guess the shadow of good news is that every problem that the doctor is treating has gotten better, except for the overwhelming, debilitating fatigue and weakness, and, of course, the cancer.  Other good news is that the nodules in LeeR's lungs have remained about the same, showing that the chemo was not all in vain. Other good news is that the red blood levels are not plummeting like they were a few weeks ago. They are low still and going down, but at a much slower rate than before. And the platelets and white blood cells are all in a normal range.

The bad news is that since everything looks good and is responding to treatment, the only cause of the fatigue and weakness is the cancer.  And that appears unstoppable. Thankfully, it has slowed down from the original path but seems to have picked up speed the past few days as LeeR's weakness has increased noticeably.

It looks like we have had our last visit to the doctor. He was so compassionate and understanding and is hopeful that LeeR will be playing at Swiss Days--he may even try to come that morning. He gave us both hugs and told us to go home and enjoy the time we have left.

We'll stay on home healthcare for a while longer so that LeeR can have his blood tested each week and have another transfusion next week to help him through his alphorn performance. After that, we'll rely on hospice for comfort. I gained such an appreciation for hospice services when I volunteered for them a few years ago. The slogan of the hospice company I worked for was, "We come into this world surrounded by love; we believe we should leave the same way." I believe that, too, and fully intend to surround my sweetheart with love every minute of every day we have together.

So if you wonder how the day went and how the night is going, please read the end of yesterday's SOS post. That's how it was, how it is, and how the night will most likely be. Love to all!

Saying goodbye, why is it sad? Makes us remember the good times we've had.

We've had a wonderful few days filled with old friends--some really old old friends.  Hehe.  Love you all, old friends.

On Thursday we were able to have brunch with LeeR's friends from high school--over 50 years now of dinner groups sharing each others journey and all that entails. We were with them the night we got engaged and they have welcomed me into their circle of 12 or so wonderful people. We were reminiscing about how our dinner topics used to be centered around who was pregnant, how to toilet train, and the challenges of young parents. Then we went through the teenage years. Whew. We celebrated when the oldest of the group turned 50 (that seemed really old then). And now here we are saying goodbye to the second of our group to graduate from this life. Seems like goodbye's such a hard thing to say.

Saturday night our old friend from LSU and his sweet wife dropped by on their way home from Washington. We haven't seen Al for 42 years, but it's like we're young struggling students again wondering what the future holds for us now. It was wonderful to see them and again reminisce about the "good ol' days." Such fun to reconnect with Al and his beautiful wife. Touching a hand, wondering why, it's time for saying goodbye.

Today "half" of my best friend from childhood and her wonderful husband came by for a visit. She and her twin (whom my five-year-old mind seemed to consider one person) and I were inseparable. As Rosemary said today, "we were sisters--triplets, really." That's how it felt. My little sister was part of the group a lot of the time, too. We had so much fun growing up together. And I'll be eternally indebted to them and their family for taking us to church and helping me understand the promise of eternal families. I believe they were the single-most (double-most?) influences on the choices I made as a teenager and, consequently, on my life. I love them so. Much more to say, foolish to try--it's time for saying goodbye.

The muppets said it best:

Saying goodbye, going away
Seems like goodbye's such a hard thing to say
Touching a hand, wondering why
It's time for saying goodbye

Saying goodbye, why is it sad?
Makes us remember the good times we've had
Much more to say, foolish to try
It's time for saying goodbye

We've been blessed to walk through life amidst these giants. Thanks to old friends who came from near and far for putting their lives on hold for a few hours and dropping by to remember the good times, lighten our load, share our burden, have a few laughs, shed some tears, and say goodbye. We love you all!

• • • ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ • • •

Yesterday LeeR was practicing his flugelhorn in bed in order to get his "chops in shape" for Swiss Days in a few weeks.  (Although he'll be playing the alphorn then, the flugelhorn is a bit easier to play right now since it requires less wind and the mouthpiece is almost the same). When he practices any of his horns, he usually is doing exercises--long notes, short notes, scales, attacks, intervals, crescendos, decrescendos, etc. Once in a while we are privileged to hear a beautiful melody, but definitely not often enough. Usually it's exercises that fill the air. So for forty-five years I have kind of tuned out to these diverse notes and blasts of sound. This was the case yesterday. But when I went in the room to check on him, his face lit up as he said, "Oh, you heard my SOS?" Uh, sure. Guess I better stop tuning out.

In other news, LeeR wakes up every day celebrating the fact he has another day to live. I do, too. Every moment is a gift it seems. He also inevitably says, "I feel better today! I'm getting better." It's only after we try to get him out of bed to shower or join us for breakfast that he discouragingly says, "I wasn't this weak yesterday." And it's true--every day is a new level of weakness.


Yesterday LeeR fell while we were going to the shower. So scary! We have this system devised where we use his 4-wheeled walker to get near the shower--sometimes I push him as he rides on it and sometimes he walks with it. Then we switch to the two-wheeled walker to manipulate into the shower and on to the shower seat. Well, yesterday was no different. He was feeling strong at the moment and wanted to walk. I was right behind him with my hand on his arm to help him balance. Then he decided he wanted to weigh (oh, vanity!). So I stupidly let go of his arm and turned away a little to bend down, get the scale, and put it on the floor in front of him. At the same time, he stupidly decided to take off his shirts (vanity, again--we wouldn't want to weigh a few ounces more because of a t-shirt and underwear!). So while I was turned away retrieving the scale, he let go of the walker and raised both hands over his head to pull his shirt off. Not a good idea. He ended up falling into the bathtub and landing on his back with his legs up on the side of the tub. Thankfully, nothing was broken and the fall seemed to be as gentle as it possibly could have been.

I called neighbors to see if someone could come help me lift him out and was able to reach our sweet neighbor York who was starting his morning getting Timp Freeze ready for the day. He ran right over and we were able to get LeeR out of the tub and back onto his walker to ride back to bed, where he spent the rest of the day. Lessons learned.  I'm sure we'll do other stupid things but letting go of him and/or him letting go of the walker won't be on the list again.

Tomorrow is our doctors' day. We will have an x-ray of LeeR's lungs to see what the nodules are up to at this point. Then we will see the oncologist. At our visit 2 1/2 weeks ago the doctor said that, although it was highly unlikely and not something that he thinks will happen, if the nodules have finally responded to the chemo and have shrunk in size and number, and if LeeR is stronger than he was at that appointment, which hasn't happened, then he might consider chemotherapy again. But he also posed the question, "If having another round of chemo were to give you another month, but you were sick 2-3 weeks of those 4 weeks, would you really want to go through it?" Definitely not. No, thank you anyway. Thanks but no thanks.

So tomorrow is a big day. I'm preparing myself to accept the fact that, at least if things are as they appear to me, we will "graduate" to hospice care. We'll come home together and cry for awhile together then LeeR will practice or sleep while I fix dinner and we'll pretend that life is normal. I know we'll continue to feel the peace we have been blessed with throughout this journey. We'll continue to feel the love of our friends and family. We'll continue to be administered to by angels. We'll be grateful for the wonderful "ride" we have had (as LeeR reminds us almost every day).  We'll gird up our loins and fresh courage take, knowing the Lord is in charge and will never forsake us. We'll cry (yet again) as we say our prayers together and go to sleep in each others arms. We'll probably wake up in the night and cry (yet again), but then we'll sleep, wake up in the morning, and be grateful for the gift of another day. Yet again.