Remembering Krista Ralston Oakes, a brain cancer survivor, writer, wife, mom and friend.
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Happy Mother's Day
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Tradition!
"A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn't easy. You may ask 'Why do we stay up there if it's so dangerous?' Well, we stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word: tradition!"
Our next celebration was Jacob's homecoming day. We brought Jake home from the hospital two days after he was born. Ever since then we would get a family portrait to celebrate his addition to our family. I didn't want Krista to not be in the pictures. She is still a part of our family and will always be. So I decided to bring a portrait of her for us to hold in the pictures. The photographer was very understanding especially when she heard our story. The pictures turned out great, despite my unphotogenic nature. I just missed Krista being there. We always enjoyed our family picture days and it was hard to not have her there in person.Sunday, April 03, 2011
Someone to Watch Over Me
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friends
Edgar passed away on September 22, 2009. He was a good friend and we were saddened that his life was shorter than expected. But we were happy for him to finish this trial and return back to his Father in Heaven and his earthly father that had passed on before him. I can just imagine how joyous that reunion must have been.Sunday, February 13, 2011
My Valentine
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Two Down, How Many to Go?
Saturday, February 05, 2011
If ye are prepared...
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Passing the Baton
"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." - St Matthew 25:40
Monday, January 10, 2011
Month One
Friday, January 07, 2011
Lead, Kindly Light
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Magical Tender Mercies
Later that day at the Princess Storybook Dinner she was able to meet Cinderella, Ariel, Princess Aurora, and Mary Poppins. But her favorite by far was Belle who signed her book "To: Emma Love, Belle" and even kissed her book leaving a lipstick kiss on the page."And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you."
"He wants to help you because He loves you, and He will help you if you pray to Him and ask Him for His help."
Friday, December 24, 2010
‘Twas the night before Christmas...
Dreaming dreams of tomorrow and present ahead.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
With one stocking empty, it didn’t seem fair.
Together we planned for next morning’s first light,
With children all happy and joyful and bright.
Announcing a trip full of magic and fun,
But now the announcement was for us, minus one.
Somehow we were meant to be a family of three,
For this year’s Christmas, it just had to be.
For the Lord knows what’s best for each of his children,
To reach our potential, if we will just listen.
His plan may be tough, and yes we'll miss mother,
Yet our family still knows that we’ll be together.
When we finish our test, mother with us will be,
And we will no longer be a family of three.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Nothing's Too Hard...
Truly nothing is too hard for God. And with His help we can overcome all He ask of us. Krista wrote the following to her 2ofus4now support group on March 15th 2009:
"I really know -- that God made me and loves me, just like he loves you. Just like he loves my family. He knows what we need in order to be all that we want to be. Whether I live or die, all is well. It may not be easy for me or for my family, but all is well. Our loving God is in charge, and if we will just stop trying to grab the steering wheel, he will take us where we need to go."I know this to be true. For some reason things have to be the way they are. Krista finished her test and was called back to our Heavenly Father before we expected. But she was ready. She had been preparing for this for many years and was ready to meet her Savior and receive her eternal reward. I also know that God love me and my family just as He loves you and all of His children. He knows me, knows how I feel. He knows how much I miss Krista and the worry I have about being a good enough father to help Jacob and Emma endure and overcome this trial. But I also know that He is there to comfort me when I'm sad, to strengthen me when I feel weak, and to encircle me with his perfect love when I humbly kneel before him and ask. I have felt his love and I know He lives.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Over the Years
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Little Things
Last night the doorbell rang, I knew what was in store. The Relief Society president asked if it would be okay for them to come caroling to our house to surprise Jacob and Emma with songs, gifts and letters about each carolers' memories of Krista. I quickly gather the kids and went to the door. Upon opening the door I was astonished by the sight. There were friends from our ward, school teachers, PTA associates of Krista's, neighbors and school mates. Our sidewalk and lawn were overflowing with angels that came to sing to us. There must have been at least one hundred people there to show heartfelt love and support for our family. There were many tears of joy as each person came forward to give us gifts, letters, hugs and words of comfort. It wasn't a difficult or miraculous thing each person did that night but added together they made a big impact on our family and brought a peace and love into our home that was needed in this time of loss.
We may never know the impact of the little things we do in life. Smiling at someone that walks by, holding the door for the person behind you, saying kind words or at this time of year sharing a sincere "Merry Christmas". Not only can it bring joy to the hearts of others but it will lift your spirits and instill in you a desire to do more little things for our brothers and sisters.
In Alma 37:6 is says "by small and simple things are great things brought to pass". You may never know the full impact of the little things you do every day. Let's try to make them all good things that together add up to be great.
Jared
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Fought a Good Fight
"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith"
This is the second time that I have posted on Krista's behalf and it may be the last.
Thursday night we read scriptures with Jacob and Emma, had family prayer and gave the kids a kiss and a hug good night. That was the last memory they would have of their mother. Krista passed away Friday the 10th of December 2010 at 3:15am. She went quickly with minimal pain and suffering. The doctors at the ER did all they could but it was her time go. I was able to hold her hand at the end and with Bishop Moon at my side was able to offer a prayer releasing her from this mortal world to return to the care of our loving Heavenly Father. She has truly fought a good fight and kept the faith until the end. She has been an inspiration and comfort to many. She has mourned with those that mourn, comforted those that stood in need of comfort and stood as a witness of God at all times and in all things, and in all places (Mosiah 18:9). All this she did while she stood in need of comfort herself. She was a remarkable woman and I am honored to be sealed to her as her husband for all time and eternity. I know she will be missed by many.
Memorial services for Krista will be held on Thursday December 16th at 11:00am at the LDS Church at 2401 Legacy Dr, Plano, TX 75025. A public viewing will precede the services at the same location from 9:30am till 10:30am. All are welcome to both the viewing and the services.
I would like to thank all those who showed support and love and offered many hours of service to Krista and our family. We couldn't have made it this long without your help. I would like to thank the doctors that treated Krista over the years, especially Dr. Karen Fink and her wonderful staff. They have given us over 4 years that we didn't expect to have together. They have been the best years that we have had. And I would also like to thank the endless procession of "Angels" - as Krista would call them - who have lifted our burdens and allowed us to fully enjoy the last 5 years. We love you all.
Jared
Monday, November 22, 2010
It's Okay -- Probably/Hopefully
This was what I said to friends and family in an email that ultimately became the beginning of this blog. It was November 21, 2005. (Happy Blog-a-versary!)
I haven't told the rest of the story about that day, but I remember it well. It was a Monday, and we were awaiting word from my neurologist about the MRI and EEG studies that had been done on Friday. He had already called on Saturday to tell me to start taking anti-seizure medication, but had no other details. We had an appointment for Tuesday morning to go over these test results.
Then on Monday morning he called me with an urgent request to meet that day. Pick a time, and he would work me in. Other planned appointments and diagnostic tests had been cancelled. This was a highly ominous conversation, and I was obviously concerned.
Two conversations followed after I hung up. One was a phone call to my husband at work, so that he could arrange to accompany me. The other was back at my bedside, on my knees, to pray.
What occurred during my prayer was highly personal and sacred and comforting. I believe in the Comforter -- the Holy Ghost -- and knew that he was communicating with me in direct and immediate response to my prayer. Personal scripture with direct relevance to my situation was silently but clearly spoken to my mind. Specific words from long ago that had previously seemed unimportant and would normally go unnoticed, were recalled to my mind along with the impression that they were meant for this situation. And then there was a feeling of peace that cannot be adequately described. I rose from my knees knowing that I was under the watchful care of a loving Heavenly Father, and that whatever this was, I would be able to handle it.
Admittedly, I was also hopelessly naiive. The neurologist was very kind as he described the MRI results and the neurosurgery that would result. I knew that my grandfather had died from a brain tumor many years before, but this seemed different. I took solace in knowing that this was likely a primary tumor instead of a metastatic tumor, and that it was in an operable location. I had no clue that primary brain tumors are quite often malignant tumors, or that anything life-threatening was going on (other than the risks of surgery). I thought brain tumors were only a big deal when they were not operable. I was healthy and could surely endure neurosurgery. It honestly seemed like my biggest concerns were whether to continue with my upcoming hair appointment, and how to manage the logistics of neurosurgery so close to Christmas.
After coming home and digesting this news I started telling my parents. I remember both my mother and my father being very concerned, and weeping at the news. I figured they were overreacting because of my grandfather's experience. But it was so long ago! And this is different! I talked about it as matter-of-factly as if I had a cavity that needed to be filled. ("Hey, Dad -- wanna see the MRI film? Here it is right here!") I did my best to reassure them that I was going to be fine. You can see what I wrote at that time, if you go to my very first posts on this blog.
Obviously as the story began to unfold, my naivety gave way to reality. The seriousness of the situation began to sink in, and things beyond our worst fears were starting to materialize. It became overwhelming. However, once the pillars of ignorance and innocence fell, I did not collapse. The experience I had in my room prior to meeting the neurologist was a strengthening one that provided an important support column. It was the remembrance of this very personal answer to prayer, the words that entered my mind, and the unmistakable feeling of peace that accompanied it, that became the real source of my strength and optimism. Other similar experiences followed when needed.
I was taught long ago that there are counterfeits for everything except the peace that is the hallmark sign of the Holy Ghost. Within the presence of that peace it is impossible for fear and doubt to abide. There are many good feelings and emotions, and I've experienced those, too. Feelings of love and relief and joy and hope and wonder, and so on. But when there is spirit-to-spirit communication with the Lord through the Holy Ghost, it is unmistakably and undeniably set apart from these other feelings, and it becomes the only reliable source of confirmed truth. My greatest desire is to live long enough to help my children learn to access and recognize this for themselves.
What I came to know on that fateful day was and is still true, and it has sustained me throughout five years that began with "It's okay -- probably/hopefully" and remains standing at "It's okay -- definitely/surely--no matter what."
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Countdown to Blast-off
In fact, we're already five years from the time of my first "seize the day" episode. November 13, 2005, was the Sunday morning when I had a seizure while getting Emma dressed for church. We had no idea what had happened. Three days later, on the 16th, I had a series of episodes that led to a wrong diagnosis by an over-confident ER physician. Finally, on November 21, 2005, we saw an MRI scan with some kind of abnormality that looked like a tumor. We had no idea what it was until surgery on December 12 revealed that it was a malignant tumor. I knew then that I had cancer. And on December 14 our worst fears were realized when the cancer ended up being a grade IV glioblastoma. Statistically speaking, five year survival was considered a miracle at that time.
So we're counting down to December 12, when we can celebrate the completion of my "high-five" year of survival.
We're also counting down what I call the "blast-off". As in, my final radiation blast is tomorrow morning. And hopefully we'll get all that blasted glioblastoma blasted off into oblivion!
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Life Goes On
A friend of mine lost her husband a few years ago. (Actually, I shouldn't say she lost him, because she knows very well where he is, which is a very comforting thing.) Anyway, as we talked in the days following his passing, she commented that when a person is born into this earth there is great anticipation and joy. And she felt certain that when a person is due to return home from whence we came, there is probably similar anticipation and joy for those who have preceded him and long to greet him.
During her pregnancy my sister-in-law had to deal with Braxton Hicks (false labor) contractions for several months, which thankfully did not result in premature birth or any complications. (Just maybe a great opportunity to play the guilt card later!) Caden was born healthy and beautiful and perfect...and at the right time for his mission in life. It was so nice to see him, fresh from heaven and ready to take on the world with a loving family surrounding him.
Meanwhile, I'm hoping to emulate his example of crossing the veil at just the right time...and not a moment too soon!
Home Stretch
I am home, stretching my muscles right now after Saturday's Brain Tumor Walk. It was a great event, raising over $1 Million for the National Brain Tumor Society, which puts a lot of money directly into research.
Our "High Five" team ended up with only three official members, because our daughter was too young to register. However, we still had many generous donors, and I appreciate each one!
We had a great time. Many volunteers donated food, drinks, and bounce houses to make it a fun event. The kids had a great time, and even had a chance to meet other children affected by brain cancer. Some of the children were feisty survivors themselves, and some had parents who were survivors. One of the highest fundraising teams had just lost their captain to a brain tumor the week before, and there were poignant "We Miss You, Mom" signs being carried by her children. One of the other teams donated part of their money to her team. It was a day filled with courage and support and lots of positive things being done about an otherwise awful situation. I always believe that God is so good, He can make good out of anything, and this was one example of how that happens -- especially when people are willing to help.
Five years ago I was training for a 5K run when I started having seizures. This year I thought I would train to run this 5K event when I ended up with a spine tumor. I decided to stop telling myself to train for 5K events...and I stopped preparing to run this one. I thought I would just sneak up on myself and see how much of it I could run. I ended up learning that I need to re-learn how to run! I think with everything that had been going on with my back and my legs and the foot drop thing...and the lack of running for so long...I just need to retrain some of my muscles. It just felt kind of weird to run, like I needed to remember how. I was stable enough -- didn't fall into the Trinity River that ran along the course -- but I did take it in walking and running intervals just to be safe. I would pick a landmark, like a tree or a pole and focus on running toward that. And then I would walk to the next item and try again. It worked out well, and I was happy with my time -- and the fact that I was doing this when last month I had foot drop and couldn't walk on my toes!
We are approaching the home stretch of the treatment game. Six more radiation sessions. Five more weekly Topotecan injections through the "oh my -- a reservoir." A few more rounds of Avastin. About a week left of nightly Temodar. Things are still very tolerable. So far bone marrow has been holding strong, which has kept me in the game. So far, CSF remains clear, with protein levels decreasing (a hopeful sign). Pain is also decreasing, which is another hopeful sign.
For some reason I have managed to lose some weight and spend a lot of time happily pulling clothes out of storage that have been mocking me for the past five years! (That's been my favorite side effect so far!) I still have my moments when I need a serious nap during the day -- and I remember from my first radiation adventure that the fatigue wall really starts to hit toward the end -- but still, there really isn't anything to complain about, all things considered. We'll get through this home stretch, and then we have a pause before we know the actual score. The Mets didn't have a great season on the field, and I'm praying that they will continue to lose here!