Thursday, January 31, 2008
Classroom Dedication
Today, I returned to West Penn for the first time since September 7. It was weird. I was nervous. I believe that my mind was unconsciously resisting this visit. Preparing to leave, I ran from my car back into my house at least five times to grab things that I had forgotten.
Turns out, the visit was better than I could have imagined. Today, the radiology department officially dedicated a classroom to Joe. They had already been in the midst of renovating the room. Joe and I were able to see the lovely new paint job many months ago. Now the room has beautiful new flooring and new desks and chairs. But the best part, is the beautiful plaque that is hanging outside of the room. I was told that the room would be dedicated to Joe. I was told that there was a beautiful plaque. I had no idea how lovely the plaque would be. The image in my mind was dinky in comparison to what I saw. Lilly, the lady who allowed me to bother her in her office to vent, cry, rant, and rave was the mastermind behind it all. She is also responsible for the 3 pounds of cheese cubes that I ate today. :)
More people than I would have expected showed up for the dedication. I saw much of the radiology department, several of the wonderful ladies from the 7th floor, and there was even a group from Allegheny General Hospital. Photos were shared. Memories were shared. It was actually very comforting and healing to be back in the presence of all the people who came to mean so much to me. All of these people cared so much for Joe, and in turn cared so much for me. It was good for me to see and hear that Joe hasn't been forgotten. It was reassuring to me to know that not only is Joe remembered, but his life continues to touch and inspire others.
After the dedication, and after eating 3 pounds of cheese cubes and crackers, I floated around the hospital visiting with people. Lilly and I even ran into three of the ladies who took Joe's meal orders each day. Initially, they walked right past me and then one of them spun around and exclaimed, "Karen!" These ladies often smuggled food for me to make sure I was eating, so it was wonderful to see them again.
I am so grateful for the whole radiology department, the nurses and staff from the 7th floor, the lovely ladies from dietary, and the doctors, nurses, and staff from the BMT offices. I hope they each know that.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Some smiles. :)
Dealing with Monsters
And this is too sweet...
Psalm 23
I am doing well. In recent weeks I've had the opportunity to spend some quality time with good friends - in person and over the phone. It's been refreshing.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Study Gets Closer to Origins of Leukemia
By Randy Dotinga
HealthDay ReporterThu Jan 17, 11:46 PM ET
THURSDAY, Jan. 17 (HealthDay News) -- By studying blood cells in a young pair of twins, scientists say they're gaining new insight into how some children are poised to develop leukemia even before birth.
The researchers report in a new study that both twins -- one who developed leukemia and one who didn't -- shared cells that mutated and became precancerous. In one of the twins, the cancer-ready cells developed enough mutations to sicken the child.
The findings are a "first look at the earliest events in the process that ultimately leads to leukemia," said study co-author Tariq Enver, a professor at John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford, England.
According to Enver, the next step is to figure out how to use this knowledge to help scientists do a better job of targeting specific leukemia cells with "smart" drugs.
Leukemias can affect both children and adults. An estimated 44,240 cases of the disease were diagnosed in the United States in 2007, according to The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
Fortunately, the death rate from leukemia for children has fallen drastically over the past 30 years, although several hundred still die of the disease in the United States each year. The society estimates that 21,790 Americans died of the disease in 2007.
In the new study, published in the Jan. 18 issue of the journal Science, Enver and colleagues in the United Kingdom, Japan and Italy looked at cells in the blood of identical female twins. One developed leukemia at the age of 2, while the other remained healthy.
At issue: Before birth, did the twins share a certain type of cell that became cancerous in one twin but not in the other? The answer, the study found, is yes.
According to Enver, both twins ended up with precancerous cells, which they shared in the uterus by both getting blood from the same placenta. Somehow, further mutations made the precancerous cells become cancerous in the twin who became ill.
Dr. Bart Kamen, chief medical officer of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, lauded the study as a "remarkable paper" that provides a new perspective on how leukemia develops. Essentially, he said, the study suggests that the precancerous cells don't always cause cancer but can do so under a specific condition -- that is, if they mutate beyond the initial aberration that made them dangerous in the first place.
As for the implications for treatment, the research suggests that "even if we killed the leukemia by killing the cells that are malignant, this one [cell type] might still be there. Maybe we didn't kill it," Kamen said.
But if scientists can figure out where the precancerous cells are, they can try to destroy them as well, he said.
Evers said the research could allow scientists to figure out which specific cells need to be targeted by drugs and allow doctors to monitor whether a treatment is working properly.
More information:
There's more on leukemia at The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.
Ten Common Myths & Realities About Grief
Writing to an advice columnist, a woman expressed these concerns about family members who are in grief. "My brother and his wife lost a teenage son in an auto accident six months ago. Of course this is a terrible loss, but I worry they're not working hard enough to get on with their lives. This was God's will. There's nothing to do about it. The family has been patient and supportive, but now we're beginning to wonder how long this will last and whether we may not have done the right thing with them."
A faulty understanding about bereavement shapes this woman's concern. Like many others, she does not have accurate information about the grieving process. The woman incorrectly assumes that grief is of a short duration and ends within a specific time frame. Whenever there is a loss to death—spouse, parent, child, sibling, grandparent—grievers struggle with a variety of confusing and conflicting emotions. Too often, well-meaning individuals who say and do the wrong things because they are uniformed about the bereavement process complicate their struggle.
Here are 10 of the most common myths and realities about grief. Knowledge of these issues is extremely helpful for both the bereaved and those wishing to help them. The bereaved gain assurance that their responses to a death are quite normal and natural. Simultaneously, family, friends, religious leaders and other caregivers have the correct information about grief, thus enabling them to respond more patiently, compassionately and wisely.
Myth #1. "It has been a year since your spouse died. Don't you think you should be dating by now?"
Reality. It is impossible to simply "replace" a loved one. Susan Arlen, a New Jersey physician, offers this insight: "Human beings are not goldfish. We do not flush them down the toilet and go out and look for replacements. Each relationship is unique, and it takes a very long time to build a relationship of love. It also takes a very long time to say goodbye, and until goodbye has really been said, it is impossible to move on to a new relationship that will be complete and satisfying."
Myth #2. "You look so well!"
Reality. The bereaved do look like the non-bereaved on the outside but inside, they experience a wide range of chaotic emotions - shock, numbness, anger, disbelief, betrayal, rage, regret, remorse, guilt, etc. These feeling are intense and confusing.
One example comes from British author C.S. Lewis who wrote these words shortly after his wife died: "In grief, nothing stays put. One keeps emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I'm on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?"
Thus, grievers feel misunderstood and further isolated when people comment in astonishment, "You look so well!" Helpful responses should simply and quietly acknowledge their pain and suffering through statements such as "This must be very difficult for you," "I am so sorry," "How can I help?" or "What can I do?"
Myth #3. "The best thing we can do (for the griever) is to avoid discussing the loss."
Reality. The bereaved need and want to talk about their loss, including the minutest details connected to it. Grief shared is grief diminished. Each time a griever talks about the loss, a layer of pain is shed.
When Lois Duncan's 18-year-old daughter, Kaitlyn, died because of what police called a "random shooting," she and her husband were devastated. Yet, the people most helpful to the Duncans were those who allowed them to talk about Kaitlyn. "The people we found most comforting made no attempt to distract us from our grief," she recalls. "Instead, they encouraged Don and me to describe each excruciating detail of our nightmare experience over and over. That repetition diffused the intensity of our agony and made it possible for us to start healing."
Myth #4. "It has been six (or nine or 12) months now. Don't you think you should be over it?"
Reality. There is no quick fix for the pain of bereavement. Of course, grievers wish they could be over it in six months. Grief is a deep wound and takes a long time to heal, and that time frame differs from person to person according to their unique circumstances.
Glen Davidson, Ph.D., professor of psychiatry and thanatology at Southern Illinois University School of Medicine, tracked 1,200 mourners. His research shows an average recovery time from 18 to 24 months.
Myth #5. "You need to be more active and get out more!"
Reality. Encouraging the bereaved to maintain their social, civic and religious ties is healthy. Grievers should not withdraw completely and isolate themselves from others. However, it is not helpful to pressure the bereaved into excessive activity. Erroneously, some caregivers try to help the grieving "escape" from their grief through trips or excessive activity.
This was the pressure felt by Phyllis seven months after her husband died. "Several of my sympathetic friends who have not yet experienced grief firsthand suggested that I interrupt my period of mourning by getting out more," she recalls. "They say, solemnly,'What you must do is get out among people, go on a cruise or take a bus trip. Then you won't feel so lonely.' I have a stock answer for their advice: 'I am not lonely for the presence of people, I am lonely for the presence of my husband.' But how can I expect these innocents to understand that I feel as though my body has been torn asunder and that my soul has been mutilated? How could they understand that for the time being, life is simply a matter of survival?"
Myth #6. "Funerals are too expensive and the services are too depressing!"
Reality. Funeral costs vary and can be managed by the family according to their preferences. More importantly, the funeral visitation, service and ritual create a powerful therapeutic experience for the bereaved.
In her book, What To Do When A Loved One Dies, author Eva Shaw writes: "A service, funeral or memorial provides mourners with a place to express the feelings and emotions of grief. The service is a time to express those feelings, talk about the loved one and begin the acceptance of death. The funeral brings together a community of mourners who can support each other through this difficult time. Many grief experts and those who counsel the grieving believe that a funeral is a necessary part of the healing process and those who do not have this opportunity may not face the death."
Myth #7. "It was the will of God."
Reality. The Bible makes this important distinction: life provides minimal support but God provides maximum love and comfort. Calling a tragic loss the "will of God" can have a devastating impact on the faith of others.
Consider Dorothy's experience: "I was nine years old when my mother died and I was very, very sad. I did not join in the saying of prayers at my parochial school. Noticing that I was not participating in the exercise, the teacher called me aside and asked what was wrong. I told her my mother died and I missed her, to which she replied,'It was the will of God. God needs your mother in heaven.' But I felt I needed my mother far more than God needed her. I was angry at God for years because I felt he took her from me."
When statements of faith are to be made, they should focus upon God's love and support through grief. Rather than telling people, "It was the will of God," a better response is to gently suggest, "God is with you in your pain," "God will help you day to day," or "God will guide you through this difficult time." Rather than talking about God "taking" a loved one, it is more theologically accurate to place the focus upon God "receiving and welcoming" a loved one.
Myth #8. "You are young, and you can get married again," or "Your loved one is no longer in pain now. Be thankful for that."
Reality. The myth is in believing such statements help the bereaved. The truth is that cliches are seldom useful for the grieving and usually create more frustration for them. Avoid making any statements that minimize the loss such as, "He's in a better place now," "You can have other children," or "You'll find someone else to share your life with." It is more therapeutic to simply listen compassionately, say little and do whatever you can to help ease burdens.
Myth #9. "She cries a lot. I'm concerned she is going to have a nervous breakdown."
Reality. Tears are nature's safety valves. Crying washes away toxins from the body that are produced during trauma. That may be the reason so many people feel better after a good cry.
"Crying discharges tension, the accumulation of feeling associated with whatever problem is causing the crying," says Frederic Flach, M.D., associate clinical professor of psychiatry at Cornell University Medical College in New York City. "Stress causes imbalance and crying restores balance. It relieves the central nervous system of tension. If we don't cry, that tension doesn't go away." Caregivers should get comfortable at seeing tears from the bereaved and supporting their crying.
Myth #10. "Grief support groups are too depressing and not helpful."
Reality. Groups formed specifically to provide support for grievers are extremely helpful for the bereaved. Most who attend describe the meetings as anything but depressing. There, grievers receive encouragement, sympathy, practical advice and emotional support from people who have "been there." Also, those early in the grieving process see and hear from others who are further along and adjusting in healthy ways to the loss. Such individuals become strong role models for the recently bereaved.
Victor M. Parachin, Tulsa, OK, is a NFDA grief educator and minister. Send comments and questions to vparachin@aol.com.
This article originally appeared in the March 1999 issue of The Director, the official publication of NFDA.Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Still here.
In my mind, two main misconceptions exist. The first, is that because I'm grieving, I'm standing still. I just don't believe this to be true. Grieving has no timeline. There are no flags that appear announcing that you have passed level one. Yet, I know that I'm moving forward. I get out of bed each day. I venture out of my house. I spend time with friends and family. I self-reflect. I pay my bills. I eat food. I make plans for my future - something which is not easy, since what I once planned for my future turned out to be a mirage. Having a bad day, or having a good cry four months down the road does not mean that things have not changed, or that I'm moving backwards. It simply means that I'm still in the process.
The other misconception is that I'm dwelling on all the negatives. Miss Stubbornly-Optimistic-and-Extreme-Positivity may have sobered up a bit, but I'm incapable of dwelling on negatives. Instead, I'm making an effort to be real and describe the full picture to those who want a better understanding of what I'm going through. I realize that simply reading a blog further complicates matters because the inflections in my voice and my crazy facial expressions are eliminated. Then again, these days when trying to explain in person, I sound like my mouth is full of cotton. It's difficult to explain things others have not experienced. Imagine going on a fabulous vacation and seeing something amazing - like the Great Wall of China, the Grand Canyon, Easter Island, Scuba diving in New Zealand. Then imagine coming home and telling others about what you saw. They say, "Oh yes! I've seen pictures." Maybe they've even seen a wonderful documentary on television. But you know in your mind, that they won't ever fully grasp the wonder until they witness it in person. Now (do I sound like Joe, yet?) imagine the opposite. That's where I stand. Except, I don't want people to experience what I have experienced.
For some time, I thought that maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I was wrong and everybody else was right, and I simply wasn't grieving fast enough. Maybe all the ridiculous advice I was being bombarded with was correct. Then after a number of sessions spent venting to Victor (he really is a fabulous little brother), he said, "I read the last grief pamphlet that Pastor Jim sent and everything you've mentioned is in there." I've been receiving pamphlets from Pastor Jim, as well as my Indiana pastor and the funeral home. Admittedly, I'd been ignoring them. But after what Victor said, I started reading through all of them. Guess what everybody! I'm thrilled to announce that I am well within the realm of being normal. Yes, I realize this is a shock to those who know me best. :) I've also perused message boards for young widows. It has been a great comfort to know that all the things that I'm feeling and experiencing are not crazy. *whew*
I have plenty more to say. But I think this is enough for today. As always, thank you for reading, loving, praying, being.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
A new year.
That's all I will say for now.
Praying for a better 2008.
Love,
Karen
Friday, December 28, 2007
Photos
I also want to share some photos from my two trips to Boston. In November, I went up to Boston for a week to check up on the brothers. I hadn't found an opportunity to visit Victor since he started at Harvard. He'll be finishing up in May, so I definitely wanted to go up and see his dorm and meet his friends. Anyone who has met my brother knows that he is Mr. Goody-two-shoes. (Sorry, if I'm tainting your reputation Victor!) Well, I had the privilege of meeting several of Victor's friends. I keep telling people the same thing. His friends are so good, they make Victor look bad. No, I'm not sure how that is possible. It just is. It was great fun meeting all of them, and they were kind and didn't make me feel ridiculously old.
Albert is in Boston as well. In fact, my second trip to Boston was a gift from Albert. He landed tickets to the Steelers/Patriots game and made sure I would be there to cheer with him. The whole weekend was dedicated to Joe. We definitely could feel Joe's presence the whole weekend. Of course, the Steelers lost. But, in my stubborn belief that everything happens for a reason - I have decided that the Steelers had to sacrifice what would have been an extremely satisfying win so that Anthony Smith could be humbled.
Both of my trips to Boston included lots of good food! I also got teased relentlessly by my two brothers, because when they were busy, I would hunt down yarn shops. They never realized that real people purposely enter shops that sell yarn. Hahaha. What can I say? Yarn is therapeutic.
Well, here is the link to some of my photos from my trips to Boston.
Boston '07
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Wishing everyone a blessed Christmas.
I think back to last year, and remember how perfect Christmas felt despite what we all knew loomed before us. I'm so thankful that we were able to share that special time together. It was beautiful, and I will cherish that memory always.
Thank you to everyone who has sent cards, gifts, and well wishes my way. For the first time in years, I didn't send any Christmas cards. I hope that everyone knows that despite this, you are all in my heart. Though it has been a tough year, I don't think I've lost sight of all that I have to be thankful for. I've seen churches, families, and friends draw together to express support towards me and my family. It has been beautiful, encouraging, and inspiring. I hope and pray that in the coming months I can better show my appreciation to everyone who has helped carry us through this difficult year. I really do love all of you. Even if you happened upon this blog by accident and haven't a clue who I am, I love you for caring enough to read.
The prayer of my heart is that no matter what you are going through or experiencing this year, be it overwhelming joy or heartbreaking sadness, you are able to have a peaceful and blessed Christmas. I pray that you are able to feel loved. I pray that you feel the capacity to love. I pray that you are able to feel thankfulness in your heart - even if it's for something silly like striped socks. I pray that the stories of amazing people like, Joe, Amy Wilhoite, and Baby Livi will continue to touch you and encourage you in the next year to cherish every minute and live for each moment. I pray that you will know that even having petty arguments with a family member, or cleaning up another spill, or waking up to a crying child is a blessing because it means that you are still able to have the privilege of spending time with a loved one. I pray that you are able to feel the desire to be more kind, more sensitive, and less judgemental to those around you. None of us ever truly knows another persons full story. I pray that you will know when to be selfless and when to be a little selfish. I pray that even if it seems impossible, that you know that God loves you. I pray that you are still able to be touched by the beauty of Jesus' birth. These things I also pray for myself.
And because I believe that Joe is still with us in spirit, and it's important to find reasons to smile. For a limited time only...something fun that everyone and their pet ferret has fiddled with. (It still makes me smile every time!)
Click here. Merry Christmas!
~~~~~~~
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirnius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them. "Do not be afraid, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
~Luke 2:1-20
Friday, December 07, 2007
Jiaxiang Lan
Last week another family member was added to the Lord's heavenly army. My cousin Jiaxiang passed away recently at the tender age of 26. He was tall...and a lover of basketball. He was smart...and a surgery resident. He was a great brother...to a beautiful younger sister. Jiaxiang was the son of my dad's brother.
It has been a tough year for my family. First my paternal grandma in March, then Joe in September, and now Jiaxiang. Sure we know that they are having all kinds of fun in heaven. But that doesn't necessarily make it easier for the rest of us still hanging out on earth.
If you could please pray for my family and especially for my relatives in Taiwan. Pray for that peace that surpasses all understanding. Also pray for continued safe travels for my dad who is with his family in Taiwan right now.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Remembering Joe - by Jim Schoettler


Jim was Joe's first college roommate at Stanford University. Jim was also the mastermind and heart behind Marrow Trek. Along with another friend, Jesse, Jim hiked 3,000 miles and raised $35,820 for Cammy Lee Leukemia Foundation and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. The truly amazing thing is that in the 116 days that it took to hike the Continental Divide Trail, Jim and Jesse took only 14 showers. Imagine that. I've mentioned it before, but it's worth mentioning again - I will forever be grateful to Jim and Jesse for their heart and insanity.
As I read through the remembrances from Joe's many friends, I realize that Joe was the same to all: unpretentious, genuine, generous and always likeable. That was the person I met when I walked into our dorm room on my very first day of college in 1992.
Joe and I were complete opposites. I was messy, disorganized, and unfocused. Joe was tidy, ordered and disciplined. There was a rough line running down the middle of our room -- my side strewn with clothes, books, and sometimes food; Joe's side clean of clutter. Occasionally (and often) my piles would seep onto Joe's side, and he would convince me that cleaning wasn't a bad thing, and we would start the process all over. Our differences made our friendship stronger: Joe brought some organization to my life, and I brought some impulsiveness to his.
Joe liked to tell stories about the mysterious pair of foreign boxer shorts that migrated around our room for weeks or the resident ant population that I wouldn't let him exterminate. But behind those stories were the times that forged our friendship -- the late nights spent talking about family, girls, school, sports and many other things. Joe was my confidant and personal advisor. He helped me figure a lot of things out, and I have always felt very fortunate that he entered my life.
In July of 2006, Joe called to tell me that he had been diagnosed with MDS. It shook me that something like this could happen to such a gentle soul with such a promising future. I could only tell him how sorry I was. It was the hardest phone call of my life.
This past summer, with Joe's help and support, another good college friend and I organized Marrow Trek - a hike to raise money and awareness for bone marrow donor efforts. I called Joe from the tops of mountains, roads and towns - anywhere along the trail that we had cell reception. His courage and attitude through his challenges remained the inspiration through ours. Hearing his voice was always comforting. I held onto the most hopeful bits of information he passed on regarding his health because I felt that if personal character, faith and the love of family and friends could help anyone get better, Joe would be OK.
At Joe's memorial service, I was overwhelmed by his pictures - his personality radiated from every one. Photographs of him will always bring tears to my eyes, but they also make me smile. Joe remains in my memories as he is in those images - funny, loving, full of life and always smiling. The world doesn't know how much it will miss him.
~~~
p.s. Stanford magazine wrote an article about Joe and Marrow Trek.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving.
I think that my stubbornly optimistic attitude and extreme positivity confuses people. I feel as though I've given this false impression that emotionally, I have the strength of an Amazon. I suppose it is true that I have discovered within myself more strength than I ever thought possible. And most people know by now that I credit that all to God. Where else could it come from? But I've also come to realize that sometimes being strong means knowing that having a big cry is often necessary and therapeutic. I've held in too much for far too long, and it is extremely painful. A time existed when very few people saw me cry. It wasn't so much that I thought it was a sign of weakness, it had more to do with putting up barriers. Maybe I was protecting myself.
Recently, I've been trying to find balance. I know that it is okay to curl up in fetal position once in awhile and have a good cry - I also know that I can't stay curled up forever. I know that it is okay to smile, and laugh, and have fun - I often do. I also know that I can only run away from the emotions of my heart for so long. I've discovered that I need to give myself opportunity to feel the awfulness of the pain I bear even though it hurts, and even though the people who love me want desperately to keep me from feeling that pain. If I do not, I know that it will catch up with me in the future. So this is my life now.
I confess. I have a bit of guilt about writing such a depressing post. At the same time, I feel that if you are still reading my blog now, it means you care. So I bare my heart in an attempt to help those that I love better understand what is beneath the huge smile that is usually on my face.
If you ask me how I am, I will likely tell you that I'm doing fine. This is only a half-truth. It is true, because despite all that I have been through, if I sit and think, I know that I still have so much to be thankful for. It is true because every morning I am able to wake up and get out of bed. It is true because I am surrounded by people who are doing their best to love me and support me.
The other side of it is that I'm still grieving. I grieve the loss of my Joe. I grieve the loss of all the years we will not have together. I grieve the loss of the children we will never have together. I even grieve the loss of the grandchildren we will never have together.
At this point, I feel that I'm not really single. I'm not really married or in a relationship. I'm technically an adult...and yet somehow, it feels as though I'm back to being twelve. It makes it difficult to figure out where I fit these days.
I'm often bombarded with advice and pep talks. Often the words I hear are truths that I tell myself every single day. Yet, while I appreciate the intention behind the words I hear, the little feisty Karen that resides inside of me does not. She wants to scream mean things back like, "You don't understand because you still get to see your spouse every single day. You don't understand because you had a full life with your spouse. You don't understand because you have yet to experience the kind of love that I shared with Joe. You don't understand because your dreams were not shattered the way mine were. You don't understand because you didn't know Joe's heart the way I did. You don't understand because you are not ME!"
You see, there is a lot going on in my heart, mind, and soul. More than I know how to express. Some of it is rational. Some of it is irrational. All of it is very real to me. This world inside my head is pretty unpredictable. Now I sound like a crazy person. Crazy is good sometimes, right? :)
Mostly what I want to say is, please be patient with me. Sometimes I will be clingy. Sometimes I will push people away. Sometimes I will be crazy, silly, joyful Karen. Sometimes tears will randomly roll down my face. Sometimes I will say stupid things and that will have nothing to do with my grieving! Sometimes, all of this will happen in the space of 27.5 seconds. Just bear with me please, and know that if you've stuck by my side thus far that I love you and appreciate you more than you will ever know.
I'm ending this post with a list of things that I am thankful for. Yes, I've been throwing myself a lot of pity parties, but I never want to lose sight of the blessings in my life. Here we go, in honor of Thanksgiving...
I am thankful for my family and their unconditional love and patience.
I am thankful for the prayers and support of friends, acquaintances, and strangers who continue to stand by me even if they have no idea what to say.
I am thankful that I never have to worry about shelter, food, and clothing.
I am thankful that I was given the privilege of loving and being loved by Joe.
I am thankful for my church family and their unified support.
I am thankful for photos and memories.
I am thankful for music.
I am thankful for the wonders of yarn.
I am thankful for lip balm. (My favorites are Burt's Bees and Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers)
I am thankful for colored pencils and crayons and beautiful colors.
I am thankful for nature - the beauty of the trees, flowers, and animals.
I am thankful for eyelash curlers. I can't help it. I am.
I am thankful for hot showers, flushing toilets and soap.
I am thankful for all the things that make people unique - even if it sometimes makes them harder to love.
I am thankful for the stories and experiences of others and the opportunities to learn from them.
I am thankful that things that are perceived as negatives can almost always be turned into positives.
I am thankful that I no longer have braces or huge dorky glasses.
I am thankful that I've had the opportunity to travel to so many places.
I am thankful for comfy couches and warm blankets.
I am thankful for smiles and laughter.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Boston
I was also able to meet up with an old friend. We went to a crowded little restaurant called Taiwan Cafe and got seated at a round table with seven other strangers. One of the strangers started befriending everyone at the table and ended up paying for the whole table. I was told that this is not a typical Boston experience.
Several times during the beginning of my stay in Boston my friend told me that there was a girl she really wanted me to meet. As my friend says, she was "gently forcing" us to get together for coffee. I must say that I'm really glad that I was gently forced into meeting this stranger.
Yesterday, I met "my new best friend." Unfortunately, my new friend and I have eerily similar stories. We are both thirty-one year old Asian-American newlywed widows. (not to mention, we're both adorable. haha.) My guess is that we are part of a pretty exclusive club. It is not a club that I would recommend. Yet it was nice for both of us to realize that we're not alone. Our stories are different, and yet somehow parallel. It was amazing to talk to a person who can truly relate to what I'm experiencing. We were able to share our frustrations and fears. We were able to laugh about things that really aren't funny. We were able to discuss all of the "behind the scenes" events that people don't see. We were able to talk about the complexities of the mourning, grieving, healing process. What we are going through is so peculiar. Although we have wonderful people who are supporting us the best way that they know how, an unseen limit exisits. It is nobody's fault. We barely know what we need and how we need to be supported. How is another person to know? We giggled about the people who try to be so helpful by saying, "I know exactly what you are going through, because when my dog died I was devastated." Who are we to judge whether your grief is greater or lesser...but no, you do not know exactly what I'm going through. We giggled about the people who try to be so helpful by saying, "Oh well, you're still so young, you'll be able to bounce back quickly." Oh, how we wish we knew this to be true.
It was a wonderfully therapeutic time for me, and my friend claims it was wonderfully therapeutic for her as well. The situation had potential to be very awkward. I was so nervous the evening before. I told Victor, "how do we start a conversation? Do I say, 'Uhm hi. My name is Karen. My husband died, I hear that yours did too...'" Thankfully, it really wasn't awkward at all (and thankfully, I didn't have to use that line!). As soon as I stepped into the cafe, I was greeted with a hug and then it was like talking to an old friend.
The healing process continues of course. But this week, I can say that I am extremely thankful for brothers, old friends, and new friends. Thank you for being you.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Who Am I?
Name: Who Am I
Artist: Casting Crowns
Album: Casting Crowns
Who am I?
That the Lord of all the earth,
Would care to know my name,
Would care to feel my hurt.
Who am I?
That the bright and morning star,
Would choose to light the way,
For my ever wandering heart.
Bridge: Not because of who I am,
But because of what you've done.
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who you are.
Chorus: I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am.
I am yours.
I am yours.
Who am I?
That the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love
And watch me rise again.
Who am I?
That the voice that calmed the sea,
Would call out through the rain,
And calm the storm in me.
Not because of who I am,
But because of what you've done.
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who you are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am.
I am yours.
Not because of who I am,
But because of what you've done.
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who you are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow,
A wave tossed in the ocean,
A vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am.
I am yours.
I am yours.
I am yours.
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
'Cause I am yours.
I am yours.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Memories of Joe Lin by Jimmy Yang
And here, we have Joe and Jimmy.
Due to the closeness of our families, I’ve pretty much known Joe since childhood, even before the two of us could even form real memories. It’s always funny to see pictures of us as little toddlers, with our rice bowl haircuts, and trying so hard to remember what it was like then. Instead, we have the stories that our parents provide, such as the time Joe and I got separated from our parents and ended up lost in a Six Flags amusement park. I still laugh when our parents describe how they eventually found us wandering aimlessly, holding hands while bawling our eyes out together.
As we grow up, we begin to form real memories, and I cherish the fact that Joe has always been there since the beginning of my own memories. I mean, how often can you say that you’ve had a friend for pretty much your entire life? In that way, I am so thankful that our families have always made that dedicated effort to see each other so often, whether it was my family going to Pittsburgh, or the Lins coming to New Jersey, or even jointly heading to the North Carolina outerbanks for a summer getaway. With so many chances to see each other, it’s not surprising that, as an only child, I eventually ended up looking to Joe as that older brother I never had.
Having said this, it’s also not surprising that I ended up growing up with my own version of sibling rivalry. I can’t count the number of times I heard from my parents the latest and greatest about Joe. Let me tell you, if anything, Joe had always been the golden child - the perfect Taiwanese American boy. He always got the good grades, he played both violin AND piano, he spoke Taiwanese flawlessly, he was neat and organized, and of course adults loved him for his perfect manners. Of course, it didn’t help my case later when Joe got into Stanford and eventually medical school. And then of course, just to show off, the perfect Taiwanese American boy found an amazing Taiwanese American girl to marry. You would think I’d get frustrated trying to measure up to the “Crown Prince of Taiwan” (to borrow a phrase from Joe and Karen), but it was impossible to do so. You couldn’t help but respect Joe immensely, not just for his accomplishments, but for the way he stayed humble through each of his successes.
It all seemed to come easy to Joe back then, but as great as he was growing up, I think it’s pretty clear that Joe proved to be even greater as a man. Joe may have impressed me with his personal successes, but he truly inspired me with the way he faced adversity. Throughout his battle with his health, Joe demonstrated to me what it was to remain strong even when you felt most vulnerable, to be brave when surrounded by fear, to keep laughter in your heart when you felt like crying. Joe showed me how to keep hope in your heart despite discouraging odds, to be thoughtful and generous when everyone’s focus was on him.
A perfect example of this happened this past year, as I’ve been going through my own personal issues recently. Strangely at the times when I was most discouraged, I’d get a surprise phone call from Joe, almost like he knew that I was feeling down. Of course, a few minutes of talking to Joe and hearing him stay upbeat during a battle I couldn’t even fathom going through myself would put the world back into perspective. What right did I have to complain to him about anything when Joe was fighting a battle for his life? Yet, Joe was always so generous of heart and soul that he had more than enough strength to lend it to others like me. Every phone call I had with Joe left me inspired and refilled with hope. In one of our last conversations, I will always remember him reaffirming to me what I’ve always felt about him. He told me, “You know, Jimmy, I’ve always viewed you like another brother to me. You know you can always talk to me about anything, anytime.”
And so now, even though he’s gone to a better place, I still get to talk to Joe about anything, anytime. I get to talk to Joe every time I talk to Karen. I talk to Joe when I talk to the Albert. I talk to Joe when I talk to his parents. I talk to Joe when I talk to my parents. I talk to Joe when I talk to his friends. I still get to talk to Joe, because Joe has left a piece of himself in the hearts of everyone he’s touched. If anything, all I have to do is look inside my heart, and Joe is there. Joe will always be there with me, with us.
Be in peace, my dear friend and brother. We love you.
Friday, October 26, 2007
I Will Lift My Eyes
Name: I Will Lift My Eyes
Artist: Bebo Norman
Album: Between the Dreaming & Coming True
God, my God, I cry out
Your beloved needs You now
God, be near, calm my fear
And take my doubt
Your kindness is what pulls me up
Your love is all that draws me in
Chorus:I will lift my eyes to the Maker
Of the mountains I can’t climb
I will lift my eyes to the Calmer
Of the oceans raging wild
I will lift my eyes to the Healer
Of the hurt I hold inside
I will lift my eyes, lift my eyes to You
God, my God, let mercy sing
Her melody over me
God, right here all I bring
Is all of me
Your kindness is what pulls me up
Your love is all that draws me in
(Chorus)
‘Cause You are and You were and You will be forever
The Lover I need to save me
‘Cause You fashioned the earth and You hold it together, God
So hold me now (Chorus)
God, my God, I cry out
Your beloved needs You now
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Back home

I am back. My tropical paradise for a week was a Hawaiian cruise. It was wonderful. I hung out with my parents, I made fabulous new friends, and I even hugged a palm tree. We were a group of fifty-one celebrating my dad’s 40th reunion from Kaohsiung Medical College. Each time the purple banner came out people would stop and stare at our group as though we were a local attraction. It was pretty funny.
Hawaii was incredibly beautiful and pleasantly distracting. It was nice to get lost in a seemingly alternate reality for a week. I must admit I was a bit nervous about going. Hawaii has this romantic vibe that draws in plane-loads of honeymooners and canoodling couples. I wasn’t sure if my heart would be able to handle it. Turns out, whether they realize it or not, my parents and the rest of the fifty reunion folks that I hung out with during the week were amazing. Some of them knew the whole story about Joe and me; some of them did not know much at all. But somehow the time with all of them – even during the boring bus tour moments when everyone was nodding off – felt like one big hug. I felt supported but not smothered. Even my ultimate silliness was accepted.
I made some wonderful new friends. The trip wouldn’t have been the same without some other “kids.” Diana and I were buddies for the week. We definitely had some crazy times. Jim and Brian completed the other half of our “kids corner.” Many nights at dinner, the waiters would set up a gigantic long table for our group. The kids always occupied the same corner. We shared a lot of laughs…and a lot of desserts. Shawn and Lu-yi were the other two kids. They had a lot to celebrate - two birthdays, a wedding anniversary, and a baby on the way – so we didn’t get to see them every night. They were really entertaining when they were around.
Initially, I felt uncomfortable even mentioning Joe. I barely knew some of these people, and I didn’t want to be that lady who shares her whole life story with every person who glances in her direction. As the week progressed, I knew it was okay to share when I needed to. Joe was in my heart. We experienced Hawaii together. Being in Hawaii and being surrounded by such intense beauty, I knew that God was all around me. It made it easy to have fun and celebrate life.
The healing process continues, especially now that I’m back home. But a friend commented to me “He gives us the choice - to be held and stand tall, or to wilt and succumb.” I plan to continually choose the former.
A special thank you to my parents for taking me to Hawaii with them. They were really great. Emotionally, I’m still all over the place. But since my parents are my parents, they are usually the only ones to witness the ultimate grouchy side of my healing process. Now that I’ve officially mentioned it, they will proceed to tease me about it forever. But truly, I’m grateful to them. Because to be able to endure my ugly side is true love.

Friday, October 12, 2007
Not Fiji...
...but pretty close. My parents are "dragging" me away to a tropical paradise. The real reason that they are going is for my dad's 40th med. school reunion. At one point, they almost decided not to go. They wanted to be around for Joe. But Joe kept saying that they had to go. He wanted my parents to come back with lots of photos and stories. And then came the moment when God needed another angel up in heaven, and it had to be Joe. Things are pretty darn dandy for Joe right now. Life is a little bit more difficult for the rest of us. So my parents decided that my dad's reunion was the perfect excuse to take me away for some rest and relaxation. I wish that I was going to Fiji with Joe. I've mentioned before that I wish a lot of things. This trip will be good though. I aim to celebrate Joe's life and enjoy myself. I know that is exactly what he would want. It is kind of funny though. For a week, I'm going to go back to the days of being a nine year old only child. It'll be mommy, daddy, and me! (sorry victor!)
I will be back...with lots of photos and stories and things to share.
Monday, October 08, 2007
A letter from Vince Lee
Our parents set us up. I wasn't very happy. So, I developed a ploy to get rid of Joe. I started to bring him to church. All the time. For hours. (My plan obviously didn't work. *whew*) Along the way, Joe not only developed a relationship with God. He met Vince. My fellowship in Philly was so large at the time, I barely knew Vince. But Joe and Vince seemed to click almost instantly. Vince ended up moving off to Pittsburgh. We soon followed, and re-connected at PCC.
Vince wrote a letter to Joe for the service. It speaks for itself.
Joe,
I know I speak for the heart of everyone here
who has had the blessing of your friendship
who has ever worked with you as a professional colleague
who has joined with you in prayer
who has been at one of your Steelers parties
who has been the recipient of your handshake and warm smile
who has shared a meal and memories with you
who has tried one of your award-winning grilled portabello mushrooms
who has read of your journey online and has prayed for you in their hearts
who has loved you as a friend, a son, a husband, or a brother
that we all testify together what a privilege and honor it has been to share in your life. A privilege, because of how short and precious your time was. An honor, because of the person you were.
People who would meet you for the first time found you immediately likeable, no matter if they were outgoing and gregarious, or extremely shy and introverted, as I was when I met you for the first time in Philadelphia seven years ago. And all the same, you would extend your outstretched hand and warm smile to everyone. We don't know of anyone like you who is so genuine, positive, easy-going, thoughtful, and sincere, all at the same time. The surest way out there to make money is to bet against you not smiling for ten whole seconds. It simply can't be done. We will miss your sense of humor. You could be in any situation and make it funny. You wouldn't be the one wearing the lampshade over your head, but you'd be the one with the perfect comment for the situation that would have everyone laughing with no one's feelings hurt. Our fellowship and our church has been so blessed by your generosity and hospitality, and your expertise with the grill. You had it down to a science. The way you and Karen complimented each other as a couple was beautiful and inspiring. It was a romantic moment for all of us just even seeing you both walk together through the door. You were for each other, inspiration and passion.
Your humility and sincerity flowed out from your noble heart. During your hard fought battle these past 15 months, you were even at times apologetic for inconveniencing us with your leukemia. That kind of humility brings tears to our eyes. But even though your life was turned upside down on June 23rd of last year, the leukemia didn't take you away. Instead, your sincerity, your character, and your love for your family and friends shined even brighter.
Thank you for being so transparent with us. It didn’t come naturally, but you did it out of your love for us. Thank you Karen. Through your blog you shared your hearts with us, even through the most crushing moments. We all felt so helpless, and yet so amazed by the strength that was sustaining you both. Such giving and such faithfulness was Christ’s love in its fullest. Thank you.
God called you, Joe, to a rugged path so few of us have or will ever walk. He asked you to carry a cross He has only asked you to carry, because He knew that you would persevere on His wings. In return, you were given a knowledge of Him many of us will never know. And now, you truly are made perfect. Before, there were so many questions; many dark nights where you were looking through a mirror dimly. But now, as the Apostle Paul wrote, you are with Him, face to face. Before, you knew in part, but now you know fully, just as you are fully known. Known to Him who changes the seasons, calls each star by name, and holds all life in the palm of His hands.
I know you're in a better place now, but if there were a time machine, we would bring you to this moment right now, in order to show you just how much love you've inspired, and how great a legacy of love you've left in our hearts. And you would probably apologize for being an inconvenience. And we would be so inconvenient back to you because we'd hug you, quite firmly, and never let you go. So for now, we'll cherish your memories. We know you're watching. Someday soon, you'll be holding Karen's hand again, walking side by side, on streets paved with gold. We love you Joe. See you soon.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. - 1 Cor 12:12






