Month: November 2017

Mark’s family asked that I, with three other men, clothe him in his burial garments at the mortuary.  I accepted with a sense of duty and honor.

There are a number of cultures and religions that bury their dead in ceremonial and/or ritual clothing, including members of our church who have attended our temple.  I think it unfortunate that this seems less common in Christian religions, as this can provide some comfort to those left behind, and it can remind us of the eternal nature of our beings and faith.  It is a way of further honoring and respecting those who pass on, and can be a precious and tender experience for close family and friends to do this service.

Mark’s wife had carefully and lovingly cleaned, pressed, and folded his burial clothing in a small suitcase for me to take.  I almost felt like I was intruding into sacred space when I opened it to confirm everything was included.

I did feel some trepidation at the prospect of viewing and handling the body of a deceased, especially of someone I knew and loved.  The discomfort and sadness at viewing the lifeless body of someone who only days before was so warm and alive were overshadowed by the tender feelings of doing one final service for someone so deserving.

While we treat with respect the mortal remains of our loved ones, we can rejoice and find solace in our faith in the afterlife, and knowing that Mark’s eternal spirit and very being live on, freed from the body’s sufferings and limitations.

We miss you, Mark.  But we also rejoice for you.

My good friend Mark was not unaccustomed to serious illness.  As if suffering through terminal stomach cancer wasn’t enough of a cross to bear, he had survived a previous bout with cancer, as well as life threatening heart attacks.

Mark related how he “died” from one heart attack in a public area at the Denver airport some years ago.  While laying on the ground in terrific pain he wondered what all the gathering people were experiencing as they watched someone die right before their eyes.

From his previous cancer he had a good idea what was in store with the proposed chemo treatments for his latest diagnosis.  He considered whether just to forgo such treatments and maximize quality of life.  To his great credit, his overwhelming consideration was to do what was best for his wife.  He said he had a high tolerance for pain and could, once again, deal with the treatment.  But he didn’t want to drain the family savings to disadvantage his wife.  Fortunately, his medical insurance covered him sufficiently.

Mark didn’t fear death.  His faith gave him confidence in the hereafter.  He did fear leaving his wife a widow, and burdening her with his care in his decline.  He also confessed he was apprehensive about the difficult journey leading to death, not what would happen after.

A few months ago I asked him if he had regrets about his decision to have chemo and other treatments, if the added months of life were worth the suffering.  He said he would do the same again.  (I have heard others say, after having gone through chemo, etc., that if they had another diagnosis they would not go through it again.)

I never heard Mark curse his misfortune with ill health and premature demise.  I only heard words of faith and testimony in his God, his Savior, and the plan of salvation.  And gratitude for his wife and family, the wonderful life he had enjoyed, and many who surrounded him with service, as well as his opportunities to serve others through his life.

Mark, your difficult journey is over.  Well done, my friend.  May you rest in peace.

This post, and I think several to follow, will be heavier and more emotional than many that I write.

Last week a dear friend, Mark Carver, passed away after a two year battle with stomach cancer.  Suzanne and I were close to Mark and his wife.  I’ve known Mark about ten years, and worked closely with him in various callings and service opportunites in our church congregation (LDS ward).  I had the good fortune of being assigned as his home teacher for most of those years.

There were a number of ups and downs over his two year battle.  I remember the day he called me in October 2015 with the news of his diagnosis, and its likely terminal prognosis.  I shed a tear or two.  

He decided to proceed with conventional treatment of chemo and radiation, and endured its side effects.  Life was prolonged, but that treatment exhausted its benefit late last year.  His insurance declined coverage for a very expensive medicine that held some promise for his case, so we were all very heartened when the drug company offered to proceed with no cost.  Could this be the miracle we all hoped and prayed for so fervently?

Alas, it was not to be, and a few months ago Mark was resigned to his fate, and elected to maximize quality of life for his remaining time.

There is much more I want to relate to fill the many gaps from this abbreviated summary, but I will close this post with a link to Mark’s obituary:

Mark Carver

 

We have an Oroweat bread outlet store in town, and when I come home from making my purchase there every few weeks I often remark that I’m surprised the police didn’t follow me home and arrest me for robbery.

I eat 100% whole wheat bread every day in my lunch sandwiches, and I prefer Oroweat brand, so I stock up with several loaves and store them in our freezer.  This past week I picked out 4 loaves for 5 dollars, and felt pretty good about the bargain, as it sells for $2.50 to $4 per loaf retail.  Then I discovered a coupon in my Oroweat app on my phone that gave me $3 off with $10 purchase, so I grabbed 4 more loaves.  Then I used my senior discout of 10%, plus got a free package of English muffins for filling my frequent buyer card, and paid $6.30 for the whole deal.  I was surprised the shoplifter alarm didn’t sound when I left the store.

My mom would be proud, as I’m sure my frugality stems from her genes and example.  

I love the variety of colors we experience each fall, and each spring.  Here are a few samples from recent days.

Outside the window at work.

Berries in our front yard.

Our marigolds thrived this summer, and they are still hanging in there the second week of November.

After four decades of being a homeowner you pretty much learn how to fix anything.  And there is a certain degree of satisfaction in DIY projects.  I often resort to strutting around the house proclaiming “I am the Man” after a particularly impressive accomplishment.

Like today.  Our shower drain was clogged.  My experience was, fortunately, not like this one:

Previously, I had used a clumsy metal snake contraption to coax all the hairs out of the drain, and was eventually successful.  Later, I was at Home Depot and figured there had to be a better tool for such a task.  And there was!  A very simple and inexpensive plasic device.

Here is the device, with one offending clump of hair:

There were two more clumps, and now water rushes down the drain.  Ta da!