Lighting a Candle for Dena - 2 Years Later

I just finished reading my niece Tracy's post on her "Cancer Sux" blog - it was a sad one, written on the two year Anniversary of the death of her Mother -- my Sister-in-Law Dena.  As some of you have read in my previous posts, Tracy is a researcher who has made it her life's work to find a way to Kill Cancer - but in the past 4 years, she has had to deal not only with losing her Mother to endometrial cancer, but also her husband Kelcy's battle with Testicular Cancer -- not to mention losing her beautiful dog Tahoe to cancer, and (I might add) that I lost my sweet Luna to cancer as well just a couple of months ago.

After reading Tracy's blog, I felt that I needed to sit down and write on the same subject, since I have much to say about Dena - her life and her passing.

My brother Ira was married to Dena for 39 years.  I had known her virtually since I was a child - so to me, she was always a big sister - sometimes acting more like a mother - always an integral part of my family.  She was there for me at so many dark moments in my life - sometimes her advice and positive attitude felt like an intrusion - but I know that it was always given constructively, because she wanted to help.  And help is what she did - to me, and to so many young people who seemed to gravitate towards her.  One thing you could count on -- Dena was never judgmental.  She accepted people for who they were, and she could somehow always find the positive in everybody.

And probably at one of the darkest times in my life -- she was there for me when I had relocated half-way around the world to start a new job... only to be told that after 9-11 my new job was being eliminated.  I found myself homeless and jobless in a strange city.... she took me in and helped me to get my life back... and for that I will be forever grateful to her.

One day, nearly 4 years ago, I got a phone call from Dena just as I was getting ready to go to work.  At first I couldn't understand - but then I realized that she had just crawled from her driveway into the house to find her phone.  She had gone out to get the newspaper and collapsed in front of the house.  My Brother was out of town, so I went right over.  Dena refused to let me take her to the ER, so I sat with her through the day, watching the Food Network, until he got back.  The next day, he dragged her to the hospital - and on a routine Chest X-Ray the signs began to show that Dena had Cancer.  It was advanced, and the doctors didn't hold out much hope of her lasting more than a few months - but she was strong and a fighter, and she had many people supporting her, loving her and praying for her. 

During the next 2 years so many people prayed for her in so many ways - Dena joked that she had all her bases covered, no matter what deity she would encounter when she got to heaven.  Besides our family's Jewish prayers and the many different types of Christian prayers that were said on her behalf, there were also prayers offered up for her by Moslems in a mosque in Jerusalem, by Hindus at ashrams in India, by Buddhists from Chinatown, and at a Native American Drumming ceremony in Oklahoma.  And she welcomed them all - so many prayers! 

But eventually, we had to face the inevitable.  She went into hospice, and it was clear that Dena was not going to come home again.  She was so weak as she drifted in and out of consciousness, and her loved ones prepared to say their final farewell.  And oh so many people loved her - her children and husband of course were there.... friends flew in from Boston and NY, and my sister came from Israel.... many more called.  Eventually, my Brother just handed me his cell phone and asked me to deal with all the phone calls - he couldn't do it anymore.

Her breathing was so labored that the doctor came and put her on a morphine drip.  She seemed to settle down, so I encouraged Ira and the kids to take a break - go out and get something to eat - don't worry, I'll sit with her while you're gone.

My sister Roberta and I sat on either side of her - each of us holding one of her hands.  I don't know if she knew that we were there or not - her breathing eased, and she seemed to be drifting in a dream.  We sat and talked, and held Dena's hands - it may have been a long time, I'm not sure.  Time seemed to fade away, the light was dim and there were no clocks in the room.  Then came a breath that just sounded different.  It didn't sound hard or painful - it just sounded different.  I've never heard somebody take their last breath before - but in that instant, we both knew it for what it was.  She was gone.  Roberta went to get the nurse - and I stayed there, holding her hand - until the nurse asked me to excuse them while they "tidied up".  Only then did I go out and call Ira.  "Come back here" was all I could manage to squeak out, but it was enough for him to understand what I meant to say.

Over the past 2 years I've replayed that scene in my head so many times.  I know that she was at peace in those last moments, having said all the goodbyes that there were to say.  I am always happy that I was able to be there for Dena at the end - and perhaps make it easier for her to let go when she couldn't hold on any longer.  I think Tracy, as strange as this may sound, that if you had been sitting there instead of me, she never could have let go of you - even though it was time. 

Although I am writing this here on my Blog, I am really writing this for Tracy.  We have never spoken about that day, but I  hope that it helps you somehow.

Your Mommy loved you and was oh, so proud of you - as am I...!