Today is but a Day

Today is today.

Today is tomorrow.

Today is yesterday.

Yesterday is today.

Yesterday is tomorrow.

Yesterday is yesterday.

Tomorrow is today.

Tomorrow is tomorrow.

Tomorrow is yesterday.

Today is but a day...

Today, Tomorrow, Yesterday.

Dedicated to Helen and the wonderful VITAS hospice team. Thank you for changing the life of my family and myself. Thank you for being there in my final hour and doing everything in your power to ensure that I am kept comfortable. Thank you for sharing my journey and for being my guiding angels. Today is all that we have, all that we are promised, and in that one day, lives can change. Live each day, and only that day, and in that a lifetime will be made.

My Purpose in Life

Lately I have been filled with unbelievable love. Through this disease, I have lost many friends; however, though I have lost many people whom I thought were "friends", I have also gained many that I didn't know were friends. I have met some of the most amazing and courageous people. Some I have never persoanlly met, and we only know each other through the chats and postings on FB. Yet, these people have become to be just as important as my personal friends. I am truly blessed. At this difficult time, they have each reached out and made sure I knew how important I was and how blessed I was to have them in my life.

Gorwing up, my desired future occupation often changed; however, the one thing that never changed was my life goal. My one true life goal was to leave this world a better place than when I came into it. I wanted to have a positive influence on people. While I always imagined that I'd do this by doing something significant such as writing a book, discovering the cure for cancer through my own research, or becoming a motivational speaker, something that truly told my story, inner perseverance, and strength.
No one imagines that they will die before they even get to live. But for me, that is the case. I have not yet gotten to do any of the things I had imagined. Yet, I see all those affeted by my impending death and am shocked that I have had such a profound affect on so many. It amazes me. I pray that some day my complete story, through journal entries and other things, will be told. In some ways, this makes things more difficult because I realize the effect that I have had on others, the lives I have touched, and what it will mean when I am no longer here.

Jess went to Elms the other day to inform some of the faculty and staff of what was going on and that I was dying. It has been avazing, the responses I have received. but then I knew I had an impact on Elms. It saddens me greatly that while others in my graduation class are getting jobs, getting married, having children, ect., but I am doing none of these activites. I am dying. I have to leave this world before I really get a chance to make my mark. Yet I know that in my own way, I have left my mark, and that I won't be forgotten. The love that has come through from professors and other members of the Elms community as they reach out to share their love and support is amazing. Perhaps if I hadn't been who I was, and so instrumental in the community, my death would not be such a loss. But while it hurts others, in some ways, I am happy because it means I was important. Elms was my first true home. It was a place where I was valued for being me - Melissa Hauser. It was where I achieved my goal of going to college and becoming somebody, rather that the statistic that was expected of me. I did break through the system. I did succeed, and I didn't just survive. I thrived. I made and left my mark. It was at Elms that I became a person, a person I was proud of. Someone who was looked up to by others - a leader and a mentor. I was a role model in the classroom, and in the community as a whole. This is expressed through the numerous emails and well wishes that were expressed to me over the news they had received about my illness. There was a time in my life that I hated myself. I felt worth less than a peice of scum. Today, I am prouod at what I have achieved. I have risen above all that. Yet, it was all that, that made me who I am today. One of the hard things is the shock that some experience at this news. Throughout the time that they have known me, they have known me as a fighter, someone who has alrady overcome such odds, and in their eyes, this is just another road block. It is hard for them to realize that there are things tha cannot be overcome.

The Love of a Sister

Some days I think about this and how utterly unfair it is. It seems that lately all I do is cry. The social worker from the VNA made an interesting statement today. She said that I am grieving. this is so true. I think in many ways this is harder than saying good-bye to a loved one that is dying, or has died. I am not saying good-bye to one person, but to everyone I know. I am saying good-bye to all the people that have been in my life.

My goal in life has always been to leave this world a slightly better place than when I came into it. I have not done even a fraction of the thing I always dreamed of. I guess I always thought there would be time. Though I never got to do many of the things I thought I would, I can't deny that I haven't influenced people. I know so many people that care. It just tears me apart. I think about certain things, things with my brothers and sister. Dinner with them and how we all sit and laugh. We tease each other and joke. It hurts me to think that some day, they will be together, but I won't be there. Every time we're together, I wonder, in 6 months will I still be here to do this? A year? I know their life will go on. I know it will continue because that's what life does, it goes on. But it will go on without me. I won't be there to join in the jokes. It hurts so much to leave them, but I haven't really been given a choice. All my life I've protected them and been there for them. But I can't make this better. I can't make it hurt less. I can't stop it. I can't protect them. This is going to happen whether I want it to or not, and that hurts. They are so young, all so young. I shouldn't be the one that has to go. I think how I won't get to see them grow up, get married, have kids. I won't get to see Brenndan graduate. It's like I'm checking out at the middle of the story where I won't know how it ends. It's not fair.

I think one of the hardest things about this is telling people. Knowing that I am hurting them and knowing that it will only be harder and only get worse. I wish I could save them from the pain. I wish I could protect them, but I can't. Not telling them doesn't protect them or save them from hurt. It shortens the time they have with me. I feel I need to give them this time, this opportunity to spend with me and do things, make memories, before I'm no longer here. But it hurts me to hurt them, because I love them so much, and that will, never change. I will never stop loving them, even when I'm not here. I know that this time is a time that is all about me, but I need to make it be about them as well, because they are my support system, my life, and my love. My time here is short, I know that. I can already see it, though others may not. I try to deny it. I try to imagine that I will get better, that I will be able to move into my own apartment and live a life, but realistically, I know this isn't true. I am only able to lie to myself for small periods, and even then, I know it's not true. The periods I am able to deny reality get shorter and shorter. I am sick and I would never wish this existence on anyone. If I do anything one day, I then sleep for two days to make up for it. I sleep all the time. I try to deny the changes, but it's hard when it's right in your face. Denying it, won't help. It won't stop it from happening. It won't give me more time or change circumstances. The facts remain the same - I am dying. It sucks. It's not fair. I try to be patient with my friends and their needs. I know this isn't easy. I've been sick for many years. In some ways that fact makes it harder because people are used to me being sick. They are used to me being in the hospital, even in ICU and on respirators. I always get better. It desensitizes them. We've talked about my death. My close friends have listened when I talked of my fears that I was going to die before I was ready. But I don't really think any of us really wanted to believe these were anything more than fears. We didn't really think this day would come. But it has...

The one thing that really gets me choked up and cry is the idea of all those I love left behind. What it's going to be like when they get the word that I'm officially gone. All those years, that I attempted suicide, not once did I really think about it. I didn't consider death and what it really meant, but that is the difference between suicide and true death. Suicide is done out of anger. It is selfish, where all you're concerned about is yourself. It's a giving up. it's going in the corner, curing up in a ball, and dying. It's black. True death is the opposite. True death is white. It is selfless. It is not giving up or giving in. It is acceptance. I worry about my friends and what it will be like to them to lose a good friend, for some we're so close, we're like sisters. I worry about my siblings. Losing Poppy was devastating and hard, but this... I don't know... Parents shouldn't have to bury children. It hurts me just knowing the hurt they will feel. Yes, I know they'll move on. Life is for the living, and gradually, they'll move on because they'll have to. There is no choice. I know that gradually it'll hurt less, but the hurt will never completely go away. Someday we'll be reunited. Just as I know I'll see Poppy when I go to heaven, I'll be waiting for them.

A Good Christian

Often people claim themselves to be "good Christians." They preach the Bible and speak the word of God. They attend church regularly. But what is a good Christian? Being a good Christian doesn't depend on how often you attend church or how much you read the Bible. In my opinion, the church is an institution. Being a good Christian depends on your actions and your words. Being a good Christian means following in Christ's footsteps, doing what He would want you to do. A good Christian does not judge others. None of us is perfect. It is the reason that Jesus died on the cross - so that He could wash away the sins of the world and so we would have everlasting life.

One thing that has upset me greatly and makes me very angry is how some of my family members have reacted to my illness, especially my trach. The only person other than my mom, brothers, and sister that has visited me is my grandmother. None of my aunts, uncles, or cousins have shown that they care to any degree. I do not expect them to visit. My aunt, uncle, and cousins in Georgia, or my uncle in Florida are too far away; however, in an age of technology such as the one we live in, they could call, send a text message, an email, a card - anything. There are many ways to let a person know that you care and that they are thinking about you. I have an aunt and uncle that live ~20 minutes away. They drive by my house on their way to church. Yet, they have not called, sent me messages, or visited me. They have not asked how I was doing, or if I was okay. I know my mom has kept them all aware of my condition and what was going on. It angers me because they profess to be a huge support to me, but even as I lay in the hospital fighting for my life, fighting to breathe and having to have a trach put in so that I could continue to live, they have not contacted me in any way. They profess to be good Christians, yet what "good Christian" doesn't attempt to provide support to a family member in need. They say they are busy. Too busy to make a phone call, too busy to send a text message, too busy to send and email, too busy to send a card? It is a shame when we are "too busy" to share care, concern, love, and support to those we love.

Part of my anger is fear. I fear that in not taking the time to show they care or ask how I am, they will miss out on that opportunity and regret it. I worry that should I die, they will regret this. I will not hold it against them, though it hurts me that they have not even called to ask how I am. My fear is that by the time they realize it, it will be too late. I saw how deeply my grandfather's death effected them. Mainly because they did not take his illness seriously. They took for granted that he was there and assumed that he always would be. But we all must die at some point. Nothing is forever. When he passed, they did not have the opportunity to tell him how much he meant to them. Though he knew it, they didn't have the chance to say it. I have watched how deeply that has affected them, and I fear for that happening with them for me. I know that I will not live forever. The trach was meant to give me more time. It is not a cure. It will not stop the progression or fix the damage already done. It has given us more time, time to enjoy each other and make more memories. Memories that they can think about and treasure when I am no longer here. Memories that can provide them comfort and love when they feel sorrow. So my anger is more for them and their wasting an opportunity. And yes, to some degree it hurts because it seems as if they don't care, that fighting for my life and the struggles I have endured are not importnat and mean nothing to them. To me, they cannot speak of walking in the Lord's way when they cannot take 5 minutes to call and ask how I am doing, cannot stop by when they pass my house anyway.This saddens me and I pray that they will come to know the Lord and His love, that they can enter this world walking in His light and be shown His mercy, for His mercy endures forever.