I have been holding onto this one for a little bit…

As a kid, I feel like I spent a good amount of time with my aunts and uncles – It was a perk of being the oldest, I guess.  There are several memories that I can recall clearly, others are pretty fuzzy.  I vividly remember being buckled in the front seat of Uncle Fave’s car, windows down, hair flying around and him yelling out to the car driving (fairly fast) next to him “This is my niece!” That is a story for another day though...I am not even really sure it actually happened, but I can see it in my head! 

Having aunts and uncles that were educators and coaches meant that they sometimes had long breaks for holidays and over the summer.  I remember spending Spring Breaks and some of my summers rotating stays with my aunts and uncles. 

One of my favorite summers I spent with Harold just happened to also be the same summer he introduced me to his now wife, Shawna.  I took a friend along with me and we went to Riley for a couple of weeks to attend basketball camp.  (Side note – I never really liked playing basketball, but Harold said I did, so there I was.)  It was a pretty great set up after the first day – my friend and I would attend the morning camp session then we had the rest of the day to go to the pool, to the mall with Shawna, or back to the gym to watch or help with the second session. If I am completely honest, I am pretty sure that we didn’t go to that second session often, especially after my friend learned that Jon McGraw spent his afternoons at the pool. :) After camp was over, I returned home and continued to play basketball at McLouth until my sophomore year.  I remember when I decided to quit playing, I just KNEW Harold was going to be so disappointed so I avoided telling him for as long as I could.  Inevitably, at the next family function he asked if I was ready for practice to start, or something along those lines and the only thing I could think to respond with was “I beat the school record for high jump!” and my mom announced that I decided not to play.  I may have lost my favorite-niece status after that, but I still have that high jump record! 😊

Harold and I started our fight with Kidney cancer right around the same time, our first surgeries were just around a year apart.  He handled his like a champ, smiling in a post op photo – I was definitely NOT smiling post-op, I was a lot less comfortable and a whole lot crankier.  

I think that the first text I sent him after his nephrectomy was just a little bit of encouragement that MY whiskey consumption had not been compromised by losing a kidney. You know, just in case he was worried about that.  I am pretty sure that information helped him.  😊

After that, we took turns checking in on each other – talking out the anxiety that happens with the frequent scans (that “scanxiety” is a real thing!) and the waiting through the next week for the appointment with the doctor to give the results.  We talked about treatment plans, prognosis, scan frequency.  Any research we did on supplements, dietary changes, similarities of our disease process – there were a lot - I felt like we shared it.  We celebrated the good news, and we encouraged and supported through the less than great reports.  He commented numerous times that we may just cash in one day, since there had not yet been a connection made through genetic testing - even though we were quite literally on the same course at the start.  

Harold always knew how to put my jumbled and chaotic thoughts into words – especially when it came to being so hard to explain how it feels to experience a cancer that is literally a wait and see what happens, when it happens.  He commented that it was “hard to explain to an outsider, even family, how much this affects you. It robs you of peace of mind” and then ended the conversation with “But hey! WE are insiders!”  Indeed, we were.  I will always be grateful to have had him beside me through our journey, and I promise to always remember that “even though it is just so frickin stressful, ya gotta enjoy every day”… I hope that I can always hear his voice in my head saying those words. 

Uncle Harold died on July 18th. He fought a courageous battle and won the fight on his terms.  I am sad, but so proud of him.  My heart hurts for Shawna - I cannot imagine the quiet and loneliness that comes after spending more than 30 years married to and living with someone that is gone so soon.

Cancer sucks.  Kidney Cancer sucks.