Halfway

I didn’t publish this until now, about 3 weeks later!

My dad died last week. One week before my 35th birthday.

In the midst of one of my episodes laying awake in the middle of the night, and before I turned on Seinfeld to lull me back to sleep, I reflected on life’s timelines.

Should I plan my lifespan based on my dad’s, when I turn 36 next year, my life will be half over. Starting tomorrow, I have one year until I’m over my hill.

Questioning my mortality and longevity isn’t anything new. When I was in the heart of my cancer treatment, I wanted more than anything to turn 30 years old. To have a party with my family and friends. I did, and I still celebrate my cancer-free-iversary with family and friends every year on Christmas Day (even if they don’t know it and think it’s just for Christmas).

But this one feels more permanent, much less like the luck of the draw, and more of a finite sentence.

This morning during my regular coffee and devotion routine, I watched a new video from Macklemore, “Next Year” (I still am really fond of his music, judge me, I don’t care). The “real” video has many coincidental parallels with my life if you want to track it down and get a chuckle (disclaimer: I am NOT pregnant though the video revolves around that)!

This time of year, it’s hard not to feel hopeful for what the new year might bring. I know it will be different from so many years past, but I also know there are huge ventures on the cusp for Blake and I. If anything, 2021 has been a test of patience, putting in the work, and hopefully 2022 will be the year of reaping the benefits after a year of keeping focus and making sacrifices.

On the eve of my 35th birthday, cheers to next year being better than this one.

Thankful.

The last few weeks have been weird. My mailbox contained combinations of messages along the lines, “deepest sympathies,” “have an awesome birthday,” and “warm holiday greetings.”

I know I’m in the right place with dealing with my grief. It still catches me off guard and I let myself sob for a couple of moments, then let myself heal. This is okay, this is how I work through it.

I do want to express my pure amazement and gratitude for everyone who has shown up for me and my family the last few weeks.

Many friends and family put in a lot of work making sure we were fed the week of planning the service. Homemade meals, platters, and goodies were scheduled and provided, no strings attached, no questions asked. We kept out of town family fed, and even were able to host a small gathering for arriving out-of-town family, with nothing more required from me than heating things up in the oven. Even the week after the funeral, friends made sure I was eating. God is good. God provides.

At the funeral and lunch, we had probably two, if not three times the quantity of people attend that we expected. Not that there weren’t people who cared, but asking many of them to drive many hours is a lot. In addition to family from states away and down the road, there were former neighbors; their good friends; high school friends belonging to my dad, my siblings and me; even some of my dad’s former employees from when he retired seven years ago made the drive. My close friends made the drive from cities away, as well as new friends where it hardly wasn’t a drive.

This led us to being concerned about feeding a crowd much bigger than we had ordered lunch for. Not only did we have enough, we came home with many leftovers. God is good. God provides.

I also want to recognize those people in my life who made the effort without being able to be present in person. Many of the flowers and plants at the ceremony were purchased by friends and coworkers who coordinated amongst themselves. The texts the week after his death, but also the check ins the week after the funeral, and messages when I didn’t show up to things I committed to. A few times I just needed to not be doing anything, and I truly appreciate those who still reached out.

I’ll be honest, I could make a list of every single person I saw, talked to, received condolences from, or checked in and write them a personal note. But I don’t think I have the energy for that. Know that I’ve taken all these actions to heart, and hope I can show up for those close to me, just as people showed up for us.

I had mentioned to Blake this past week, how grateful I am for all the people in our lives right now. I truly feel like we left Lincoln with the best of our friends, and have found so many amazing people in central Nebraska in such a short time. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve thought to myself, “how did I find all of these amazing people, and why do they keep letting me hang around with them??” After the last few weeks, I acknowledge that’s a modified attitude of my dad’s perspective on his people.

Happy Thanksgiving to all my people, I hope you all are finding joy this holiday!

Dad.

My father finally passed. Papa, bapi, dad, Stew, Stewie. I say finally, because his health had been steadily declining, starting in 2010 with a heart procedure.

Throughout the 24-hour span of chaos beginning Sunday afternoon, several significant coincidences revisited me. Similar to this past week while sitting next to my dad in his bed, 11 years ago when I was only 23 and a year into my first big girl job, I was doing the same.

On Monday morning, I returned to the hospital to trade off with my mom, sending her home to refresh and reset for the day (she had ridden into the hospital on the ambulance the night before). I sat with my aunt, my dad’s sister, in his room. A signature from family was needed to change the type of the care he was receiving. As I signed my name on the line, I flashed back to that week in 2010 when I also had to sign for my dad. At that time, it was to return him to the surgical table while my mom had stepped away. Instead of my dad offering me reassuring words from his bed, this time it was my aunt sitting next to me as I consented for his care.

We had called an ambulance for my dad on Sunday. As we waited in his room for the doctor, I had already lost sense of time that night (a little due to the situation, a little due to daylight savings). I looked at the clock on the wall, and it was stopped. Immediately, my mind jumped to a blog post I had written while processing my cancer diagnosis back in 2013, specifically about missing clocks from walls, a reflection of being lost in all sense of time and it’s ability to become irrelevant in dire situations.

I’ve always found comfort in coincidences, and did in these moments as well. One night this week, I walked to the end of my deck with my eyes to the stars, the biggest shooting star I’ve seen flew across the sky.

On my first day back to work, aka normal life, I did my normal walk around the yard with Fozzie before I left. I reflected on habits I picked up from my dad, like this routine inspection of his plants. I remember every night he’d arrive home from work and walk around our yard, inspecting every bed while as a child I followed closely behind him. Now as an adult with my own yard, I often come home and repeat this process, a way to unwind from a day at the office, looking after the home I’m building. I felt warmth and grief for all the little ways this man shaped who I am today.

I watched the cranes fly overhead, and questioned his memory the last few months and years. The last few weeks when I visited, he had asked me if I was Claire, the first times he didn’t recognize me. Does he know I’m happy, and how much I love the life I’m building? I know from experience with Blake’s loss of his father, the tremendous grief that accompanies any future milestones, how we hope they can see how great we are doing, and how happy we are. Will they know? Will they see us?

This week, the memories I cling to from my dad’s final hours will pull at my heart, and probably will forever. I’m so grateful I could be there to comfort him and share memories with family, so he could listen. I hope he could hear the music I was playing next to his pillow in the times of quiet, to take his mind off his increasingly labored breathing.

I’ll leave this post, with my final words to him after his last breath left his body, “I love you, thank you.”

2019 In Review

I used to write posts, listing the highlights of the year in a month-by-month timeline. This year, I invested in pushing myself to go deeper. I found this list of questions in an “End Your Year Intentionally” article, and liked the idea of reflecting more than just sifting through old photos and calendar items.

1. What makes this year unforgettable?

We got married! Although, we already forgot to celebrate our 6 month anniversary (now we have TWO bottles of wine for our one-year). Not only was the wedding planning in itself something I won’t forget, the photos, videos, notes, and memories with all of our family and friends together will stay with us all our lives.

2. What did you enjoy doing this year?

I think this was one of my biggest struggles in 2019. After all the life adjustments ceased, I didn’t know what to do with myself (I even finished a large chuck of xmas shopping in August). The flooding put a damper on kayaking (I didn’t make it to the river this year), and I have yet to find a violin teacher. Weekends were spent cleaning up from storm after storm.

But what did I enjoy…. we invested in furniture for our sunroom. I enjoyed reading out there when temps were just cool enough to keep me inside. I went on a handful of trips – Sedona AZ, Silverthorn CO, Ft Worth TX, Davenport IA. Blake and I got our feet wet (me literally, as I didn’t have waders) with fly fishing on our own without a guide, and took our first venture with our camper. Fozz came too!

I did finally sync up with a regular volleyball team – indoor even! I enjoyed Thursday nights on the court, and at the bar after. I hope to continue with them as long as they will have me!

I do feel, like 2020 will be the year to re-align myself with hobbies. Even my Christmas gifts all revolved around ways to invest myself in hobbies and pursuits.

3. What/who is the one thing/person you’re grateful for?

My mom, first of all. I know she is working so hard with my dad, and getting the house in order on her own. I can’t imagine what would happen without her around. She also played a huge role in the wedding planning and execution this year!

Professionally, I had a major influencer early in the year, that was so instrumental on me being able to survivie my first few months at work. Without her being a quick email and phone call away to talk through pretty much anything, I would have been so much more lost!

4. What’s your biggest win this year?

Surviving this year professionallly. In my role, every month is new and different, and often I felt like I was just barely squeaking by. Getting through the year with no major (okay maybe one) mess ups feels like a victory!

Also, as I realign with my budgeting, making sure I’m investing in my “personal care” line item. It’s easy as a consumer to buy buy buy, but making sure I focus on spending on opportunities that don’t result in things, but do better myself. I completed a six week session (1 night per week) on an internal reflection of myself and answering, what really, do I want to do in my life? It involved yoga, mediation, journaling, and discussion as a very small and intimate group.

5. What did you read/watch/listen to that made the most impact this year?

I tried to focus on reading through magazines that had been accumulating during wedding planning, particularly, Outside Magazine. They had released an issue about some of the most major and tragic accidents that had happened during the pursuit of outside recreation (it was pretty dark). However, it was reassuring at the time, to know that as much as I felt like things were out of my control (natural disasters at home, not knowing what I was doing in my role at work), the consequences are absolutely manageable. Also, really, be prepared for hiking and recreation trips.

During some of our trips, Blake and I got into some podcasts (nothing too crazy). But it’s nice to find some interests together!

6. What did you worry about most and how did it turn out?

Most major events at work gave me major anxiety. Since most our staff is new, I felt like I was trying to plan events to levels of expectations from our members, without any sort of guidance on what those expectations were. Overall, things were just fine. I laugh, as sometimes I felt the expectations of my role were so low, like the times our staff was suprised I attended the events I planned.

Obviously, the wedding was a big worry, and it was great! It rained that day, and thanks to my bridesmaids suggestions, I was able to change timelines with the photographers and get all our photos in before it poured.

7. What was your biggest regret and why?

I think as a whole, not making as many personal connections as I’d like. From past friends in Lincoln, to new friends, neighbors, and church members in Doniphan and Hastings, I feel like I’m letting “busy” start to be my excuse on not reaching out (which just means I’m not prioritizing appropriately).

8. What’s one thing that changed about yourself?

I can feel myself growing more into a leadership role. I know in groups I get very passive, but as circles around me are smaller and get more familiar, I am much more comfortable voicing my opinions and standing up and speaking out for them when they are questioned.

9. What surprised you the most this year?

I’ve gotten more pedicures in this year, than I probably have my entire life combined. Maybe it’s a combination of the “investing in myself”, or maybe I’m just tired of spending so much time on my feet!

Honestly, I also have yet to establish any routine for fitness. I’m suprised how much weight I DIDN’T gain (but I probably shouldn’t push my luck in 2020!)

10. If you could go back to last January 1, what suggestions would you give your past self?

A continuation of trying to stay present. This year absolutely flew by! Between figuring out the new job, planning and getting married, all the work at home over the summer, it is definately a releif that the year is over. But, there is so much that happened, that I won’t remember!

Stay disciplined with the small stuff. It was good to have the bigger picture goals, but they often get overwhelming. Sometimes when stuck, tackling SOMETHING is better than nothing. But, don’t be afraid to pause that something, if it’s taking you down the wrong path.

Keep your eyes open for new ideas, and new solutions you didn’t know were there. It was definately a, ‘just put one foot in front of the other’ year!

2019 CT Results

On Monday Blake and I headed to Omaha, and with my parents I had my annual check in. This will be 5.5 years since I completed chemotherapy, and 6 years from my diagnosis. Time flies!

Results were all clear! In my report from the lab, generally the comment given when there isn’t anything ‘concerning’ is that it is ‘unremarkable’. I felt that this report was a little more excessive in the detail of how unremarkable my body is. It even noted that my bone density was unremarkable! I ask Blake how he felt that his wife has a medical document that explains how unremarkable she is. It’s been a great long-time running joke.

In addition to my unremarkable results, my oncologist told me I only needed to come in for one more scan! While 5 years is a big “cancer free” marker, with the improvements in medicine, they’ve started lengthening the span of monitoring for recurrance.

While my first reaction was very excited, I need to reflect on the significance of jumping into the “cancer free” pool, and the consequences of letting it happen too soon. She at one point had mentioned 7 years is now a good marker, so I would be 6 months shy of that. While most cancer communities scream, “insurance doesn’t want to pay any more,” for me, a hard reality is still balancing the radition exposure and how that may affect me into my later years.

I will reflect on that the next 12 months, and decide if July 2020 I’ll be throwing a huge 6-years in the making party, or if I will be confidently walking back in for a routine scan and scheduling one for the year following.

I’m here, one of the few

I’ve been thinking about blogging for some time. With wedding stuff (almost) wrapped up, it feels like I finally passed the finish line of the last two years of planning, pursuing, and executing. From deciding a timeline to move, getting Puppy Fozzie, job interviews, accepting jobs, moving, house hunting (twice), moving again, changing jobs again, settling in at the new house, planning a wedding and getting married, it feels like I’ve arrived. Today, being the six-year anniversary since my total colorectomy-ileostomy surgery / official cancer staging day, it seems fitting to finally start sorting my thoughts.

I get asked frequently about the transition the Central Nebraska. Specifically, how an Omaha-native now living in a town of 700 is going.

Overall, it’s been really easy. I stay busy, but with intentional things. While my commute is 15 miles on a highway, it’s also only one stoplight. I have a backyard several times larger than my past yard in Lincoln, but pay about the same amount in property taxes. My large yard means I don’t need to spend an hour walking Fozzie Dog. He runs freely while I work my yard and plants. I’ve been creating arrangements of flowers from my yard, and giving them away to friends, family, or even the assisted living facility in Doniphan and Hastings.

Intentionality is good. I’m busy, but my way.

One thing that I cant seem to shake, however, is the death I’ve seen since being here. I don’t know if I’m more aware, or it’s more common, but it’s noticable.

My first blow was in February, while working a plot for the Nature Conservancy. We came across a young calf who had gotten stuck on a frozen stand of ice and died. Its mother stayed close and came running, crying, when we came. It was absolutely heart breaking to see this mother stray from the heard for it’s dead baby.

On Easter Sunday while driving to work, a horse had been hit over night and lay dead in the median, blood smeared the road.

I saw a cat get run over by a car in town. By the time I circled around, two people were removing it from the street.

Last week, I was following what I can only describe, as a dump truck of dead cows. Presumably removed from a flooded area.

What I’ve been exposed to the last six months has moved me, and I know it’s just a fraction of what people around me in the ‘midwest lifestyle’ see. All the stories about the death from the floods are hard to understand and comprehend the tragedty involved.

I can’t explain the internal turmoil these exposures have caused. I don’t think it causes numbness, or that death is any less valued. It’s more of an understanding and acceptance. It’s emotional, it’s hard. But it’s common, and these feelings are common and not isolating.

I remember last year, I was walking outside the Medical Center Hospitals in Omaha when a medical helicopter landed outside. In my mind, there was someone in critical condition being transported. I was at a loss to comprehend the effort and logistics involved for one person. One life. More and more I feel like death tolls continue to rise from natural disasters as well as human disasters.

Seeing death more frequently takes the paralysis away. It makes me feel like I can do something, even if it’s just feeling something. That’s something I can do when there’s nothing to do.

Or, maybe it’s the reverse “mob mentality”. When everyone else looks past, it’s easy to follow suit. When there’s no one else setting precidence on how to feel and act, you are left to figure your emotions out by yourself.

A story came out a few weeks ago about the farmer that cut off his leg when his tractor rolled. No huge cinema production will be made about that incident; he was just so nonchalant about it all.

I’ll admit, when I saw the cat get hit, I didnt know what to do. When I say I ‘circled back’, I had drive probably half a mile in panicked uncertainty and had actually had to google what I should do. But now I know I need to do something. I was the one other person that saw what happened. I am the only other person who knows something should be done. Not a whole slew of cars in traffic. Not several pedestrians walking. Just me.

I am here, I am one of the few. And that feels like more responsibility towards humanity.

Big Week!

SCANS: ALL CLEAR

This week was my annual CT scan. Things came back great, clear, UNREMARKABLE (which is a good thing in medical lingo). This was my 5th CT scan, from which I’ve graduated onto meeting ONCE a year with my oncologist. Previously, I met every 6 months; one with just blood work, the other with a full scan. Now, just one scan a year! Yay (I guess)!

INTRODUCING: NO COAST KAYAK CO.

Some may know, an ambition I had wanted to pursue since moving to central Nebraska was to be more immersed in kayaking. Yesterday, I signed paperwork to form an LLC as a new kayak guide business! It’s been (and still is) a rollercoaster of emotions – some days I’m pumped, other days I’m scared, but either way it’s moving forward. If you want to give it a try, let me know! I’d love to test some of my “formalities” on people I know!

MORE EXCITING NEWS

With the move out of the way, I’m shifting my attention back to wedding planning. Crossing off some milestones this week!

We don’t have a house, but we do have a website!

Keeping you all informed as our lives evolve out in Central Nebraska!

What city do you live in again?

In March, Blake and I had our offer accepted on a House in Hastings. A few weeks later, we decided to walk away. We ordered a series of inspections, and the amount of work the house needed, and potential rabbit holes we might uncover, was more risk than we were willing to take on.

We are reorienting ourselves and doing more research into our priorities and what resources we have. In the short-term, we are preparing to stay in our Grand Island rental for awhile. As of last weekend I can finally get my car into the garage!

How’s the wedding planning going?

We have a date! And a website! We have reserved part of Arbor Day Farms in Nebraska City on May 18, 2019. We are still working on everything else, but will post updates to our website as we make progress. Feel free to check out the details so far at thebostelmans.com!

Hello, 2018!

We made it.

2017 chewed us up and spit us out. January grabbed us and twisted our mental capacity and patience nearly to our snapping point. February hit us hard, but we’ve since (mostly) been on the downhill slide of chaos since November.

So, here’s where Blake and I are, after all the madness and change that’s engulfed us the last few months.

We’re still living in Grand Island (about 25 minutes away from Hastings). We’ve been working with a realtor in Hastings and seen a few houses on the market, but are anxious to see what the spring brings before committing to anything.

I’ve started my job at IdeaBank in Hastings. It’s been good so far, I’m only in my 3rd week, and still getting acclimated. Though, I’m already busy working out details on some of the new processes and support I hope to integrate here.

Blake is still with SiteOne. Late in December after he resigned, his company offered him a new role in sales based out of the Grand Island store. He’s currently shadowing the current sales representative, and spending much time traveling between Lincoln and North Platte making contacts with clients.

Fozzie and Jack are getting by. The cold temperatures in the area have keep us all inside, and for Fozzie, that means being a little wound up.

With the other major changes settling down, we’ve made preliminary baby steps toward wedding planning. And I mean baby steps, nothing confirmed or established yet! We’re both happy to have capacity and time to put towards making plans.

So, things have been going well overall. We are adjusting and settling into our new area and enjoying seeing some faces more, but are missing those that we aren’t seeing as often.

Hopefully we see you all soon! Please come visit soon (though you may not have a bed with us)!

And, of course, New Zealand and Australia were beautiful. I’m still working on photos, but here’s a few of my favorites!

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Wrapping up 2017

I started a post like I’ve done in years past, outlining the major events and memories from each month. I realized how lop-sided my year has been with news, and that life updates are beginning to pile up. So, here’s a list in no particular order of the good things that have happened prior to October, when things started getting crazy, and a list of all the things that have followed!

Prior to October:

• Became a godmother
• Celebrated my grandpa’s 90th birthday
• Watched a ‘once in a lifetime’ solar eclipse, and in the most random way possible
• Played violin in a recital
• Paddled the Niobrara
• Traveled to Montana and Laramie with Blake
• Brought home the new Fozzie addition to the family

Here’s what’s happened since October:

• I’ve accepted a new job in Hastings, Nebraska
• I’ve accepted an offer on my house, and am near the final stages of closing.
• Blake and I have moved almost half of our Lincoln house to Grand Island.
• My oncologist results came back clear, and as of my cancer-free-iversary on Christmas, I am officially on to beginning my 4th year of being in remission.
• My dad has moved back home after being in the hospital and therapy for over two months.
• I’ve almost finalized my agenda to Australia and New Zealand, and am finishing packing.
• Blake and I are engaged. 

I apologize if this is the first you’ve heard about some of these things. Life has been just moving faster and faster. Know that this is my attempt to update those of you who have opted to follow me and stay close over the years. I appreciate you, and all of the support you’ve shown!

Here’s a little more context on some of our plans for 2018:

I’ve accepted a digital strategy position at a marketing agency, and will begin work Feb. 1. My last day at my current job will be Jan. 5, before I leave for my 30th birthday trip to New Zealand (Jan. 7 – Jan. 24). Blake is continuing conversations with job leads, and planning on making his career shift toward the middle or end of January. We’ve already accepted an offer on our Lincoln home, and have started moving to a temporary house in Grand Island as we get comfortable in our new surroundings. Our closing day is scheduled for Jan. 29.

As we reflect on the year of 2017, the primary tone was that it was a very difficult and strenuous year, and continues to be so even through these final weeks. We are so grateful for our friends and family that supported us and carried us through hard times, and continue to surround us as we push ourselves into the new year.

We are hopeful for fresh and exciting beginnings in 2018; new experiences, new jobs, new relationships, new futures. We look forward to sharing our new adventures with you in 2018!