As is the way of my world these days, happy events and items are constantly juxtaposed with those that are sad and difficult to handle.
Every morning Riley and I head out into the backyard and about every three days, Riley chooses to pee on a beautiful bush of red raspberries instead of relieving himself on any other tree or bush out there. This is pretty darn silly if you ask me. I love those raspberries! I have since warned the neighbors that if anyone eats them, to make sure that they wash the ones from the lower branches (and have noted this for myself as well).
You might wonder why I’m writing about these berries that are both tasty and have been abused by Riley’s habit of marking his territory. It is because in this mixed world of the happy and sad I’m currently experiencing, a small beauty like a natural wonder growing without any work on my part, something that provides me something sweet every day without my request is a valued treasure. It reminds me of the days that Dad and Mom would allow Kris and I to wander off together and pick blackberries all around the old green house in Gates Mills. We would eat half of what we were supposed to gather – and the rest would be used for our cereal the next morning. Except for the occasional bug that slipped into the mix, picking and eating fresh berries seems like a simple and beautiful memory and this bush growing in my backyard is symbolic to me of the happiness that I do have in my life.

As I sit at home tonight with the windows open and a cool breeze drifting through I’m unfortunately unable to shut out the sadness that has enveloped the life of my Dad, brother and I – and so many others who have supported Mom’s fight with cancer. This weekend was a turning point in a way for our family.
Mom decided that it was time for us to talk about hospice and what our options were to make her comfortable and she and Dad today made the decision to bring in hospice at their home, provided by the Cleveland Clinic. The nurse who came to talk to Mom and Dad today will be the nurse who comes to the house twice a week to work with Mom on pain management and on her comfort levels. In this case, eventually hospice will also provide a hospital bed in the house, along with several other items that will make it easier on Mom as her disease progresses. She will also have the help of a nurse’s aide for an hour a day, five days a week. Eventually if Mom needs more help, we’ll also hire some additional medical professionals.
Mom has also made it clear that she will not have any more chemo and really who would want to? She is already weak and feeling awful, why would she want put her through anything more? While I never expected to be in a situation like this, it feels better to know that Mom is taking as much control of the situation as she can and I think both Dad & Mom feel good about signing up for this hospice program.
Mom and I and then Dad and I talked about all of this during last weekend, but I believe the final breaking point was having to watch Mom have her arm with the pic line swell up to three times the size of her other arm and having to wait until Monday to get it taken care of. Dad took her to the hospital Monday and they removed that lne and put in one on the right side, but clearly putting in a new line is a painful and tiring experience for Mom. Nothing is more painful than seeing someone you love hurting physically and mentally and knowing that the cancer is taking over. Without question, Mom is the strongest person I’ve ever known and this dreaded disease is taking away anything that is left of her will to fight.
Our melancholy is continually tinged with joyousness, though. Dad, Mom and I are closer than ever and are in this together. We are a team backed up by wonderful families and friends (see pictures of Pam, Debbie and Jules – along with my three newly graduated cousins)! 
While sometimes I feel despondent and hopeless, other days I embrace the summer in Cleveland and our other sources of happiness. I’ve been waiting for the summer so long that I’m okay with it being really hot and sticky, but am also learning to take what I can get around here. At least it isn’t snowing!

I’m counting my blessings that Mom now is enrolled in hospice and feels that staying at home with the care of these professionals will work for her as her illness progresses. As our family and friends – and all of those who love and admire my Mom as a colleague, professional and all around wonderful giving person will need to come to peace with this situation – as will I – I am focusing on small victories.
Today I am always thankful for my family and friends and the beautiful love and support they provide.
I also am blessed with these cool breezes easing me to sleep in my beautiful hometown – and have to appreciate Riley’s desire to continually water our favorite bush of blooming red raspberries.