Resolutions, Reflections and Such

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Like many, we have a long and complicated relationship with new year’s resolutions. For years we made and promptly ignored them. Then we simply ignored making them. There was a good multi-year streak when Cassie’s annual resolution was to “drink more sparkling wine” and Dan was all too happy to tag along with that one. Finally, because he is prone to over complicating things, Dan developed a tradition of starting to think about a resolution on New Year’s Eve and then adopting it by the end of the first quarter and letting it run for the next year. That approach actually seemed to work for a while as Dan focused on things like being less judgmental, more grateful, choosing without regret, etc. 

Last year following Cassie’s diagnosis, we simply let NYE pass without giving thought to resolutions. We were just trying to hang on. During this past year though we have learned that our life now requires a much higher level of intentionality. That can look different for each of us. Dan tries to set a daily aspiration. Cassie focuses on intentionally slowing down. We are checking in with each other more often and adjusting our schedules and plans on the fly. We have also talked about maybe needing or wanting a “theme” for our year to anchor us and provide some direction or sense of purpose for the year ahead.

So whether you call it a resolution, reflection, aspiration or theme here are a few things we are thinking about for the coming year.

  • Embrace a sense of adventure and all that comes with it — the excitement, fear, anticipation and the unknown to name just a few things.
  • Lean into gentleness — for us each individually and together as a couple. We aspire to “radical self-acceptance” but even just a little more self-gentleness will be good.
  • Ask for help/accept help. We are so lucky to have a loving support community and we can let them in even more.
  • Slow down.
  • Be generous.
  • Don’t wait.
  • Have fun.
  • Drink more bubbly. 

Happy New Year!

 

The Holidays

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This is our second holiday season since Cassie’s diagnosis. Our first one, last year, did not go all that well. Like most families we have our share of holiday traditions. Parties we attend. Celebrations we host. Silly sweaters we wear. Foods we love. Foods we quibble over (like Dan’s annual attempt to update the old fashioned green bean casserole at Thanksgiving). Gifts we send. On and on. 

Traditions are good. They are something to look forward to. They’re fun. They anchor us and provide comfort. So last year we didn’t really change a thing. We did it all. Actually, we did even more as we raised the bar on ourselves by adding new dishes to some meals and cramming in new events between Thanksgiving and Christmas. We thought that we had better pack it all in because “who knows what next year will bring or how Cassie will feel?” It was too much.

To be clear last year’s holidays weren’t horrible. They just didn’t turn out as we had expected. Of course it was great to spend time with family and to see friends and without question the food was delicious (well not the “new” green bean casserole but everything else). It was just that we really wiped ourselves out and for the first time in our lives together we couldn’t wait for the holidays to be over. We were also so busy (and Cassie had so much less energy) that we wound up being disconnected at different times as Dan tried to compensate all on his own for Cassie’s diminished capacity. Finally, we came to realize that last year we had inadvertently made ourselves really sad. That’s because we had set up a direct comparison between the way all of our traditions used to feel (pre-diagnosis) and how they felt in our first set of holidays post-diagnosis and that turned out not to be a good comparison. 

We have subsequently discovered that having hard holidays is pretty common for couples wrestling with a terminal cancer diagnosis. We have both heard lots of stories in our support groups and discussed it during therapy. One wise person observed that you have to go through “all of the seasons” to truly understand how much everything — every holiday, occasion, anniversary, tradition, etc. — has changed. 

So now we’ve been through all the seasons, and while we still have lots to learn, we are approaching this year’s holidays differently. We are creating some new traditions for our “new normal” so that we are no longer making side-by-side comparisons to the way things used to be. We are doing less and asking for more help. We are building in down-time. We are checking in with each other often and altering plans as necessary to stay healthy and connected. We are trying hard to appreciate these holidays for what they are and for all that we have right now and not look backwards with nostalgia or forwards with angst. It still feels really different but at least so far it’s a lot better than last year and our hope is that along with our ever-present sadness we are also creating room for some holiday joy to return. Oh yeah and this year’s re-imagined green bean casserole was better too so we have that going for us, which is nice. 

A Rabbi, a Death Doula and Mr. Rogers

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When Dan’s mom died this past May the Rabbi at her St. Paul Shiva shared an interesting observation. He explained that Jews traditionally avoid euphemisms like “passing” or “moving” on. They speak directly of death and dying. Now the Rabbi wasn’t being critical of other faiths or traditions he was just noting that death is certain and unavoidable and that confronting this certitude directly and head on can actually be healing. 

This was affirming to both of us because we had already started to do this. As we shared in a previous post, Cassie was a little obsessed with planning the details of her death, burial and funeral and we have been doing that in fits and starts for almost 14 months. There is also a lot of dark death humor in the Cramer household these days. And while this often takes our friends aback, it helps us to talk and joke about it. This is our life now and while hopefully still many years off —the previously abstract and far-removed idea of death has been replaced by a new and more immediate reality. Death now seems closer than we would ever want or have imagined and we just have to deal with that fact.

So with all of this on our minds, Cassie signed us up for a Community Education Class called “Death: It’s a Collaborative Event.” We walked into Central High with some trepidation but also open to what we might learn. And we learned a lot. First though, we were a little surprised to find that the class wasn’t filled with people like us who were confronting what could be the imminent death of a loved one. Instead it was attended by people who were seeking to better understand death and how to navigate this one great certainty that we all confront. 

The class leaders, a “death doula” and a celebrant (who helps create traditions and lead ceremonies) explained that we can “have the death we want” but only if we talk about it and plan for it. They led us through a visualization asking us to picture our final days. The room we are in. The way it looks and smells. The art on the walls. The photos by the bedside. The music playing. What surrounds us? Who surrounds us? Is someone with us all the time or do we want to be left alone at some moments? Have we written goodbye letters? Recorded video? Have we put ourselves in a position where we can let go? Are we set up to die on our terms or are we leaving all that to chance?

We sat there with our eyes closed imagining all of this. We reached for each other’s hand. We cried. But we also appreciated the questions and the conversation that followed. The biggest piece of advice — create a death “plan,” write it down and share it with our loved ones. Now on the one hand that seems hard and scary but on the other really liberating. So that’s what we are doing — together, one plan for each of us, and we have given ourselves a deadline so we can be done with the fits and starts and focus our energy on living. Then as a final affirmation, we learned that even Mr. Rogers talks about death. We recently saw the new movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” and both walked away with a Fred Rogers’ quote about dying stuck in our heads: “Anything that is human is mentionable. And anything that is mentionable can be manageable.” Even, or especially, contemplating death. Thanks Mr. Rogers, Death Doula Jane and Rabbi Latz for the inspiration.