In Memory of Tony, 6 years ago he left this world....

                                                           Tony Lynn Foth

                                                            1/1/73- 8/24/07

                                                      Gone, but never forgotten!

8/24/13

Hey Bubba,

I never know how to start this. I write you a lot, like you don’t already know every thought I have in my head. I need to write you and know that publishing one letter a year to my blog is a good thing. It lets others see how much you are missed and thought of daily. And I hope it brings to mind good memories of you.

You know how scared I was a month ago. I felt you in that hospital room every minute. I knew you wouldn’t let me die. I stayed strong because of you. I had to, because even with your last words you were strong. Thank you for sharing your strength with me and keeping me alive. Though I have a feeling you really don’t want me up there to annoy you just yet. *lol*

I cried a few times this week- which is down from the year before and the year before that. Its 6 years today. 6 years since I crawled in to that hospital bed with you and just let it all out. I can still feel the prickles of your beard on my fingers as I type. I remember how much it had hurt not to be able to touch you for the last 36 hours of your life. I wanted nothing more than to hold your hand, touch your face, give you comfort without words. But you couldn’t stand it. You barely could handle the washcloth on your head. It broke mom’s heart and it broke mine. Once you died, I laid down next to you. I wanted a last hug. What I wouldn’t give for one today….

So much has happened in these 6 years, things that I never would have thought or even imagined. I can’t help but wonder if they would have happened if you were alive. I mean, would I have moved out here to CO? Or would you and I banded together and forced dad to come home to WI with mom? Would you have finally found “the one”? Or have you already up in Heaven? (And no, Anna Nicole does not count!)

You were here just a few days ago when the hurt was so raw I could have choked someone to death. You buzzed me good to get me to calm down. You made sure I heard the much needed song. You’re still taking care of me from the other side-just like you promised you would. I’m more grateful for that bond than I can express. You’ve pulled me out of some extremely dark caves, you’ve forced me to breathe and find my center, but most of all you’ve reminded me that love is never ending.

Today I’ll look for the signs from you, the ones you send every year. You know mom is lost. She doesn’t remember the date and therefore doesn’t realize just what today is. Which I guess is a good thing because I hate to see her sad. I will plaster a smile on my face for her when she is near me. I will work on the van with Daddy and I’ll make sure to watch my language because of those “shittin’ little kids”. Do you remember how hard you hit your head laughing at mom when she said that to you? I’m surprised you didn’t cut your head wide open on the hood of my truck. And poor Daddy- I thought he was gonna have a stroke his face was so red from laughing. We don’t let her forget that one either. LOL Though her filter is off more and more. I bet you sit up on a cloud and just laugh your ass off at what comes out of her mouth now. Did you bust a gut on Monday when she told the workman across the street he was hot and that she would be watching him? Of course I was mortified at first and then I swear I heard you laugh- and then I was laughing. Oh the things that come out of her mouth!

I miss you very much big brother. With every health concern I wish that you were here to talk to. I’m scared of what is going on in my body. If you were here I know you’d tell me to take it a day at a time and go with the flow. “You can’t fuckin’ change it Tubby; all you can do is face it head on.” What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me that it’s going to be okay, and if it’s not- well then we’ll deal with it. Some days I miss you so much I want to crawl back in to that dark place. You don’t let me. You make sure someone reaches out to me, that someone tells me I’m not alone. Did you make Stallone make those “Expendables” movies to cheer me up? When I watched them I could hear your comments, your laughter. It’s your fault I even watch the “blow-em-up movies” as mom calls them. Thanks for making me sit through them and now I laugh when I watch the old Seagal, Van Damme, Snipes, etc. movies. When I watch the new movies like that or any racing movie, I feel you in the room with me. We’d be commenting on the errors in editing, or how cool it’d be to drive a car like that. And I’d be losing another game of Monopoly to you. But I’d be the racecar!

Tony, you were larger than life to me. I never thought you could die. And when you did- a chunk of my heart went with you to Heaven. I even think a bit of my soul went with you. I’ve come so far in the last few years in terms of dealing with your death. I no longer say “he left”, I say you died. I don’t have that awful nightmare anymore. After I wrote about it, it lost its power over me. Just like you always told me- “Tubby, you’re better with words than I ever will be. Writing is your gift- use it”. I’ve written quite a few blogs now. And each one helps me heal more. I just wish you were here to talk to about some of the things that I am afraid to write about. I know you’d have the right words to help me. Send me a sign ok?

I made you a promise before you died. You were very honest with me when you spoke of your greatest fear about dying. I remember every word of that conversation; it was one of our longest and last. Your fear was that you’d be forgotten, that the people you loved the most would stop speaking of you, that they would forget the man you were. I took your hand in mine and gave you this promise:

“I will never ever, ever forget you. You are my big brother, my best friend. You will remain my big brother as long as I live. Your name will never be far from my lips. I will tell your story to the world. I will share your life with the people that matter to you. I promise you that I will never stop loving you, or missing you. I will not let you be forgotten!”

So Bubba, I will use my gift and tell your stories. I will put them on paper for your son, your friends and family. I think of you every day and will for the rest of my life. I will never stop being your baby sister. And I’m so proud to have you as MY big brother.

Today I remember the last time I saw your face. I cry for the pain you were in. I cry for the pain your death caused to all those who loved you so very much. I hear the last words you spoke to me 2 days before you died and I will always be grateful those were the words you made sure I heard. I see the tears fall as mom said good-bye. I regret never having said those words aloud to you, but know you understand. I hear the scream of your son as I broke his heart. I feel the stillness of your last moments on earth. I feel the tears run down my cheeks and the urge to once again put my fist in my mouth to ensure I don’t call you back. But most importantly- I remember the grin you had as you took your last breath. I see your entire face light up as you say “Grandpa” and I knew you were going to be safe in Heaven. I am blessed to have been there.

Oh Tony, how much I miss you. It’s not easy having you gone. You are never forgotten, never will be. Today I will remember the good. Today I will wear the cap you gave me and get my hands greasy with dad. And you’ll be right there with us, as always.

I love you Tony!

~ Tubby

To SCAR

     I knew it would be hard to leave my hometown in WI again. We were there for five nights and four days. What I didn’t realize was that my heart would once again get broken by leaving, that instead of it being “see you in a year” it felt like I was leaving behind my world…. again. I cried myself to sleep on Monday night because I knew what Tuesday morning would bring. I couldn’t cry then, I had to show I was strong and that all would be okay. It killed me to be that strong when I said good-bye to her. You see SHE’S the reason it’s hard to not be living in the same town or let alone the same state. At least if I was in state I could take weekend trips up to her and vice versa. Being over 1,000 miles apart is the 2^nd hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through.

Let me see if I can put in to words all that I feel about and for this woman. I will most likely not get half of it out right. SHE means that much to me.

I have known her all my life. Up until a few years ago, well, we were just acquaintances. Her mother is my dad’s sister. She is the 2^nd to youngest cousin on my dad’s side of the family. We would see each other at family parties and we were always nice to each other. I loved her because she was family. I didn’t know her then. I had opinions of my own and others that shaped how I saw this woman. She and I have talked about all of that and become closer because of my honesty.

Now I tell her almost daily how much I love her. Leaving her on Tuesday morning broke my heart. She’s become one of the most important people in my life and I didn’t realize just how much till I hugged her tight on the first night we were together again. She’s got a world of worry on her shoulders right now and I’m not there to help. Yes I can text and call (which I do) but it’s not the same as walking in her kitchen and sharing a cup of coffee, or picking up one of her kiddos for a few hours or overnight to give her some help. And it sure as hell isn’t the same as walking in her door and wrapping my arms around her and just holding her on the hard days.

I would do anything to switch places with her so that she wouldn’t have had to go through the hell of cancer. That’s the bond we share. She had pancreatic cancer and KICKED ITS ASS! When she told me I honestly didn’t know if I could be the help she needed. It wasn’t that long ago that I’d been walking the cancer road with Tony. Would it bring back all the horrible nightmares? Would I be strong enough to hold her hand while she got bad news? Would I even be able to look into the face of the Doctor treating her- the very same one Tony had at the end and not go all psycho bitch on him? The only thing I knew for sure is that she needed help- whatever capacity I could give. She never asked me for more than I could handle. I ended up doing more than I thought I would be able to. And because of that, I now have my cousin as one of my best friends.

I remember all the trips to the clinic- the dr. visits, the chemo, the testing. It wasn’t easy to look at her and not see Tony. But then I’d hear him telling me this one was different and she’d be okay. I held him to that and still do. She gave me the opportunity to be strong again and to see her battle as hers and not his. I cannot begin to tell you how much prayer went in to this walk with her. She helped me strengthen my faith. I was never mad at God for taking Tony home. I never hated God for the walk Tony and I had together. I did lose sight of Him after it all ended. I wasn’t really ready for the new chapters of my life and got over whelmed by depression. My beautiful cousin, she helped me see past the clouds and look for the sun again.

I used what I’d learnt from Tony and his battle. I made sure she was forthright and honest with her doctor. I encouraged her to fight for herself, not just allow them to treat her as a “normal” patient. She wasn’t- she kicked ass. She’s one of few that can say she beat pancreatic cancer. Of course in the midst of treatments, the what-ifs always hovered. Could I handle losing her? Could I survive getting close to someone again and then having cancer rip them from me? We are lucky, those questions never had to be answered, and I pray that they never do.

You see, I can’t imagine my life without her now. I feel torn in half right now. I am out here to make life easier for Dad and Mom. I want to be here, don’t get me wrong. I just want to be there for her too. I want to walk in to her house, pat the dog, hug the kids and then put her snuggly in to bed and let her rest while I take care of the laundry, cleaning, cooking (she's way better at it than I but I'd do it for her in a heartbeat!) or whatever else she needed to get done. I want to be there on her bad days with a cup of coffee, some fart jokes and a shoulder. And on my bad days, I want her here with me to make me remember how far we’ve come.

All this and so much more is why on Tuesday morning as I picked Maybelle up from her house, my heart broke and a piece stayed behind. I never wanted to let go of her. I think at times I may need her more than she even realizes. I am already trying to figure out how to save up some cash so that I can fly home sooner than later to see her again. I need my time with her. I know how precious it is and thank God for every minute. And I thank GOD for HER!

To my amazing, strong, beautiful Scar-

You are so much more than a cousin to me. You’ve become a friend, a sister, a life line. I could not be out here doing what I am without you. Thank you for loving me enough to understand that I have to be out here. Thank you for worrying about me and how it would affect me when you told me about your cancer. You will never understand how much that helped me start to heal. Thank you for sharing your children with me- I adore them! Please take good care of that piece of my heart I left with you on Tuesday. I will pick it up when I move back home to be near you! LU LU MU

~ Composer

PS If you haven't already, go check out her Facebook page and tell her I sent you.  I Survived Cancer And All I Got Was This Stupid Scar