Mama, What does...?

My husband, Jim, was diagnosed with throat cancer. He lost his ability to speak just three months prior to our wedding. I never really ever heard his natural speaking voice. I brought five children to our relationship. All teenagers; four daughters and a son. He had no children and had never been married before. Jim was a wonderful muscian. Our battle with his cancer became a family mission of survival. As the months became years, we became champions in finding versatile ways of combating the obstacles of teen rebellions, high school, middle school, absent parents, chemo therapy, radiation sickness, surgeries, and infections.

Jim and I found solace in car trips with his various bands. The kids found they had triumphs within music and challenges were met as my health with my own brain trauma from a benign brain tumor became an issue. The stress within our home grew daily as my children grew into adults quickly in a world filled with situations that children should never have to face. My two elder daughters retreated to living with their father for their senior years of high school. The three younger children stayed with me and Jim. The girls graduated high school and entered college to study nursing. I look back now with a wonderment and pride. My number two daughter studied her way to a masters degree, and her thesis was based on the cancer war we survived as a family. Though they left. We often spent time together on weekends at the various venues that our bands were playing at. Until, the end when Jim could play no longer.

Jim and I enjoyed car rides in the country around the small town we lived in. He would ask me to drive him to various places that he had enjoyed as a boy. He would explore woods and hiked trails along the rivers in his younger years. As his illness progressed, the trips seemed to encourage his moods to stay positive. My Father became very ill down in Florida as we were notified that Jim's cancer had advanced from his throat into his spine. The doctors informed us that there was very little that could be done. The kids took the news as we had for the past ten years...with smiles and determination to laugh. Jim just grabbed his guitar and played.

Traveling down to Florida to visit with my parents. My 23 year old daughter was riding in the back of our full size van. My husband, Jim, was driving. I should say..he was staying in the appropriate lane; as other travelers passed us rapidly. Brittany was playing the "I spy..." game. She announces, "I spy a large sign with a wine glass on it." I responded, "A billboard for a winery." Jim laughed. She retorts, "Nope! It's called a win-er-ie." Jim and I looked at each other. He laughs and I look at her. "Dear baby girl, that is not how you pronounce w-i-n-e-r-y...its whine-a-ry." She stares at me with the look of a scared deer in the headlights when an epiphony strikes. Brittany smiles, "Oops! I did it again."

A few road trips back in time. Brittany is in the back and asked, "Mama, What does d-r-p-e-p-p-e-r spell?" Jim glanced at me with eyebrows raised and smiled. My mind is whirring; when I see the billboard she is looking at. I turned to look at my beautiful daughter, "Honey, it spells Dr. Pepper. Britty, that is an ad for my favorite pop!" Jim is laughing uncontrollably and I am fighting the urge to join him. Britty slaps her forehead..."Wow! I get it now." Jim patted my hand and mouthed, "Good job, Mama!" I eased back into my seat to once again hold the handle as Jim hit every hole in the road. She may never win a spelling bee contest. Jim may never drive in NASCAR; but my road trips are always entertaining with these two.

I recieved a phone call four months later. My Dad's voice was a whispered, "I love you." Tears ran down my cheeks and Jim's hands were on my shoulders as I hung up. Dad passed away that night. Two weeks before Christmas. Six months later, Mom brought him back to Indiana for burial. My children gathered round from various states, "Mama, What does Grams do now?" I looked at my son and placed a hand on his cheek. "She moves back here and we all look after her." He nodded, "But, I live out of state. Will you be okay? Jim doesn't look good." I smiled calmly; although I felt nothing but dread. "We are good." He nodded again and kissed my cheek. The next month I lost my wonderful husband. The funeral home was crowded for this popular muscian and charismatic man. "Mama? What will you do now?" My daughter asked me as people lined to greet me. I looked at her. "I will move on the best way I can. I have the love of many and wonderful memories to smile with warmly. I am blessed."