… am trying to get life in order before I fly to North Carolina on Thursday for the funeral on Friday.
… am busting into “doer-mode” which is how I cope with things like this.
… am cleaning and organizing and laundry-ing as I hate to go out of town only to come home to clutter and chores.
… am making lists of everything I must remember to do, bring, pack, reserve, print, and buy.
… am needing to take care of a lot of Church assignments and work assignments before I can leave.
… am trying to decide what time to fly out of Nashville on Saturday after the burial in Tennessee.
… am looking forward to stopping in to see my parents on the Island for a few days while I’m that close.
… am so happy to see my girlfriends, but am so sad about the “why” for our get-together.
… am really tired due to a terrible night’s sleep.
… am puffy-eyed.
… am still struggling with the fairness (or lack thereof) of this whole thing.
… am trying to remember the Plan of Life that I believe with all my heart.
… am thankful for all the comments, calls, emails, texts, and Facebook messages. I know Catie’s family is buoyed by the support of both friends and strangers.
… am wanting to share this story, because it makes me smile and laugh which is who Catie was. So here it is, as told by Catie’s husband Steve in an update to her friends last Friday, Feb. 19:
Catie’s breathing tends to worsen at night. We’ve tried various treatments, but none of them seem to have had a great effect. Catie still has no appetite and continues to struggle eating. Her not eating much, not sleeping well, difficultly breathing, along with all the past cancer treatments and the cancer itself, have combined to really take the strength out of her. But she is taking things in stride, and has even said this week several of the funniest things I can remember coming from her. For example, on Wednesday morning we were talking a little about what happened the previous night. [Background: Catie had lost consciousness a few times the night before and struggled much to breathe.] Catie didn’t remember much, but did remember thinking it was her time to pass on. “I guess someone cut in line,” was her explanation for still being here. She also hasn’t lost her smile.