“When someone has cancer, the whole family and everyone who loves them does, too.” — Terri Clark
“The simple message of It Takes a Village is as relevant as ever: We are all in this together.”
― Hillary Rodham Clinton
When I walk into a room and friends who I love and trust ask me, “How are you?” or “What’s new?” I break down in tears. I’m a mess. I’m normally the in-charge eldest child, natural leader, the first one to raise my hand with questions, a confident, outspoken, and opinionated woman — the kind of person who seems like she has it all together, even when she doesn’t. I can’t pretend anymore.
To mix metaphors, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I’m thin-skinned, and I can cry at the drop of a hat. Gratefully, I can also laugh and smile when I hear the giggles of my sister Kelly on the phone or see the photos that sister Tami posts on Facebook. We’re a family living with cancer. Our sister Cindy has Stage 4 liver cancer, and like the quote that introduces this essay, so does everyone who loves her. This is a story about my sisters, we’re the Tag Team Sisters.
Sisters, Tami (left), Kelly (right)
We’ve each adopted friends and invited them to join us as official Loud Family members, the moniker we’ve embraced because of our ability to talk as loud as we’re able to be heard, especially in the small Cape Cod-style home we were raised in and our father still occupies. When we gather together as a family we talk competitively, raise our voices, and are as likely to argue, tease, and laugh as we are to cry easily.
Members of the family at the hospital when Mom was dying. Don’t let the expressions fool you. We laughed, we cried, you get the picture.
We are emotional, we are affectionate, and we love each other deeply. When new people join our family, they often stand at the periphery and observe with a degree of shock and awe as we interact until they feel welcomed and safe enough to jump into the fray.
The Evolution of Tag Team Sisters
We began referring to ourselves as the Tag Team Sisters when our mother was still alive and the family rallied to support both her and our father. Dad was her primary caregiver, Nurse Dick, or Nurse Dad as he was affectionately called. Our brother Rick helped too in legal and financial matters and as the family handyman along with Kelly’s husband, Bill. Rick dispatched his wife Nancy to assist when they stilled lived in our hometown of Racine, Wisconsin. Nancy became an official Tag Team Sister when she managed Mom’s prescriptions and helped our father shop for groceries since Mom stopped driving, and Dad never drove.
Kelly helped schedule and manage healthcare appointments and accompanied Mom and Dad as their extra pair of ears. She would interpret for them, conveying medical information in a way they could understand. When Rick and Nancy retired and moved to Colorado, Kelly took over managing and picking up prescriptions and Cindy drove Dad to the grocery store.
Dad & Cindy
Since Tami and I lived in Madison, we filled in as backup, taking time off of work to stay with Dad and bring him to the hospital to be with Mom during procedures. In the last ten years of her life, she had quadruple heart bypass surgery and 13 stents inserted into various arteries. Mom was famous for saying, “Some people get tattoos, I get stents!”
Tami and I, the rest of the extended Lenzke family, and Loud Family and friends would plant her flowers every spring and we continue to do so now. We’d arrive early for holiday gatherings and help prepare meals as Mom’s sous chefs, and now fill her shoes to the best of our ability in the kitchen often bringing Dad leftovers. Whether it’s Tami, Kelly, Cindy, or I, he likes to point out how our food is different than Mom’s, often asking, “What is that spice you put in there?” to indicate how it’s not the same as Mom’s.
Since Mom died two years ago as a family we’ve rallied to care for Dad. We fulfill similar roles for him. I made a commitment to call him once a week on Sunday, much like he did with his mother when she was still alive. I visit once-a-month, plus for family birthdays and holidays.
Rick and Nancy return home twice a year or more. Rick is still Dad’s handyman and when he’s not here in town, coordinates the crews in Racine by phone. Rick drives Dad to Costco to stock up on water, toilet paper, and the miniature cinnamon rolls that satisfy Dad’s sweet tooth.
Father’s Day, 2018
The kids and grandchildren buy Dad gift certificates for his favorite delivery restaurant and refill his Schwan’s Gift Card so Dad can peruse the catalog and order food delivered to his front door that’s easy for him to warm up, the chicken tenders, fish fillets, popcorn shrimp, and pot pies. During a recent heat wave, the Schwan’s delivery guy stopped by Dad’s house to check-in on him to make sure he was okay and his air conditioning was working. Dad’s next-door neighbor, Paul, cuts his grass and shovels snow.
Bill, sister Kelly’s husband helps too. He recently installed Dad’s new toilet and keeps him stocked with beer. Ron, Tami’s husband, is a handy handyman and Dad saves “to-do lists” for him too. Kelly is his go-to-person for most things and Cindy helped until she couldn’t any longer.
Cancer, Caregivers, and Community
Our family — and by “family” I mean The Loud Family and The Tag Team Sisters are now caring for and supporting our sister Cindy. Cindy has a circle of friends and caregivers, official Loud Family members, Cheryl and Leayn, who are on the ground in Racine caring for her, organizing fundraisers, and checking-in on her by phone. Cheryl is an RN and Cindy and the family couldn’t have a better representative to help interpret the medical information and her prognosis. Kelly, like with Mom and Dad, takes Cindy to her appointments and when she’s unavailable, Tami swoops in to fill-in.
Tami with Cindy in the hospital last week
Tami created a YouCaring site on Cindy’s behalf to help support her financially as she applies for benefits and has her safety net in place. Cindy, and our family are grateful for all the generous contributions. Hilary Clinton was correct when she said, “It takes a village.”
Milo says good-bye to Cindy (he’ll be back to visit).
Tami’s to-do list
Last week, after Tami recovered from an extended illness, she spent almost a week getting Cindy settled-in back at home, checked off a list of things on a to-do list (yes, among other things, The Tag Team Sisters are list-makers!). Lastly, though on one hand it was difficult for Cindy, Tami’s family is adopting her sweet dog companion, Milo. Cindy lives in a second-floor apartment and navigating stairs is more difficult for her some days.
Last night the phone rang, I checked the caller I.D. and it was Cindy, surprised when I answered she said, “Oh, you’re home.” Cindy and Kelly called to compile family medical history. Though we were discussing matters of life and death, soon Kelly was giggling about something which provided some comfort for my soul. I asked Cindy how she was doing, and she said, “Today, pretty good.” Yes, it’s a one-day-at-a-time kind of life for the loved one with cancer and for the people who love her.
Kelly & Cindy
Though my sister Cindy is the person living with cancer, cancer affects the lives of all who love her. As a family we’ve grieved the losses of grandparents and great grandparents. Six years ago, our sister Rosalyn (Roz) died unexpectedly from a heart attack during a summer heat wave. Our mother died two years ago and we are grateful that we could be with her at the end. We’re grateful too that like our mother Cindy is a fighter and possesses a strong will to live.
When Cindy’s doctor shared the prognosis with her on how long she may live with cancer, she concluded by saying, “Live your life!”
Cindy’s family, friends, and everyone who loves her are confident she will do just that!
Update: Cindy passed away peacefully in her sleep at 12:30 am on Sunday, January 13, 2019 at the home of her sister Tami Reschke whose family was caring for her in Madison during her final days with the help and support of Agrace Hospice Care and Cindy’s sister Kelly Zickus.
Peace Out!
Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!
Ethel Mae’s Garden: A Mother’s Legacy
You are all in my thoughts. Cancer is tough, and your right, it affects the whole family.
Very touching. I wish I had a family as close as yours. There were only four of us, and I’m the only one left…. Lewis.