Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Tanning Giant.



Why do I write? This thought was running through my head this morning while I was reading a beautiful email from a new found friend. I look back when Jillian was first diagnosed with melanoma and remember my thoughts at the time. I’m  wondering,  how am I going to help Jillian? I knew she would be up for the physical battle ahead of her. I was more concerned about her mental battle. Jillian was private when it came to her inner feelings. It was hard for her to share. Much like me, really. I was private, I didn’t want myself on display. I didn’t want to appear vulnerable. So by opening myself up and sharing all the crap, I  became Jillian’s voice in a sense. What I’m about to share today, is loud. I think Jillian would approve.

Last week I posted a question asking if there had been any lawsuits filed against the tanning industry from the victims of melanoma. That question prompted an attorney from Ohio to reach out to me, offering to share some insight. He mentioned that if there have not yet been suits filed, there will be. He had been one of the young grunts for some tobacco defense teams, and sees some similar issues between the two. He agreed to be a guest on my blog, laying out some steps for those who may be interested.  Below is Jeff’s article. Thank you Jeff, for your willingness to help.

Considerations in Suing Sunless Tanning Salons and
Tanning Bed Manufacturers

by Jeff Roush
            I am a lawyer, and got my start representing a large tobacco manufacturer in litigation over claims allegedly made by that company and others in the industry about particular types of cigarettes.  That experience opened my eyes in a number of ways, particularly regarding the tactics both sides used in litigating complex issues.  Attorney-client privilege prevents me from revealing any communications or secrets regarding that litigation or that client, but I can say that many of the arguments made in the cases in which I was involved relate directly to what one may face when taking on the sunless tanning industry.  While I know I am writing for a dedicated fighter against this industry, someone I absolutely support in her mission of education against the harms of self-tanning, I will look to take a neutral approach here, laying out the key arguments each side will make and what points litigants need to win to succeed in their personal fights.

Finding a Lawyer
            You are an individual suing an industry, potentially involving the individual tanning salon, its parent company, the manufacturer of the tanning bed or beds used, and even a parent company of that manufacturer.  Depending on strategy, each of those companies may hire its own lawyer, or they may pool resources to hire one firm to represent everyone.  Against this combination of experience and money, you may feel alone. 
You need a seasoned attorney on your side to help even the odds.  This means doing your research.  The attorney you select should have a record of winning cases against businesses.  Ideally, if not someone experienced in suits against the tanning industry, it should at least be someone holding experience in products liability cases: represented plaintiffs suffering from disease or injury caused by a product.  You want someone who is tough enough to stand up to strong-arm tactics from the defense, and yet capable of making the emotional argument along with the logical.  Your local bar association can be a tremendous resource in identifying the right person to represent you.

Causation
            The threshold issue you need to show, aside from the fact that you or your loved one has been harmed, is causation: did the defendant (or one or more of the defendants) cause the injury?  Our understanding of the science of ultraviolet radiation has developed to the point that we know the dangers tanning beds pose.  For those suffering from skin cancer resulting in part from use of these beds, this helps with part of the battle. 
            That said, you need to show more than that sunless tanning was one potential cause, or even more than that it was definitely part of the cause.  Defense lawyers look to cast doubt on the claim, pushing to the point that it is as likely or more that something else caused the injury.  Other potential causes will be investigated: other salons, other manufacturers, and old-fashioned sun tanning.  You’ll be asked about how often you or your loved one used sunscreen, and what other steps were taken to lessen the risk from other sources.
Your best chance of success, then, lies with showing the bulk of the tanning you or your loved one has done was with the defendant’s salon and/or product.  If you can show this, demonstrating causation becomes easier.  You don’t have to have been perfect, and the worst thing you can do in court is lie.  But have your information lined up and be prepared for an attack on the irresponsible behavior of the person suffering from skin cancer.  It may feel odious, but you should expect it and prepare for it going in.

Warnings and Assumption of Risk
Knowing use of a dangerous machine allows the defense to claim the person suffering from cancer made a conscious choice to risk the consequences of skin diseases, up to and including cancer.  For most laypeople, this sounds like “blaming the victim,” and certainly an element of this comes in.  From the manufacturer’s perspective, as well as the salon’s, they are making a legal product and providing a legal service.  If they provide warnings of the dangers associated with that product and service, and a person chooses to take that risk, the financial impact of suffering the injury that person was warned about falls on that person.
This argument works very well.  The defense may play on the jury’s sense of personal responsibility, and may go so far as to try to paint the person suffering from cancer as an irresponsible, vain person caring only about his or her appearance and dismissing known risks.  And if this attack goads you into getting upset, you run the risk of looking irrational as well.
One way to attack this defense is to look at the adequacy of the warnings.  Were they visible on the product?  Was information distributed at the salon?  How informed was the person tanning before he or she proceeded?  Assumption of risk becomes a weaker argument if the warnings were not given by the manufacturer or the salon.  If anyone downplayed those risks before the tanning sessions began, or referred to it as “safer” than sun tanning, that can help you as well.  In other words, the best counter to assumption of risk is to show that you did not really know or appreciate the risk.
That counter can be even stronger if the person suffering from cancer began these treatments as a minor.  One major reason tobacco plaintiffs make claims of youth advertising against that industry is that younger people are not held to the same decision-making standards as adults.  If a minor was allowed to attend tanning sessions without a parent’s consent, assumption of risk becomes much harder for the defense.  You will, of course, need to determine (or have your lawyer tell you) what in your jurisdiction makes someone a minor for these purposes.

Time and Money
            Early resolution does not occur in these cases.  You need to prepare for a long fight, possibly taking years.  And while big trial verdicts tend to make headlines, they are rare.  Defense lawyers count on the expense of litigation hurting you before it hurts their clients—and in most cases, they are right.  Stay patient, and plan for a long road. 
            More than anything else, though, you need to believe: believe that you are right, and believe that you will win.  Your case is about righting a wrong, while the defense’s case, whatever bluster they give, is about money.  Remember this, and keep fighting.  Our legal system is not perfect, but if you persevere, it can serve you well.


Thursday, November 21, 2013

Walking and Remembering. Charlotte, NC, November 2013

The walk. The AIM at Melanoma walk in Charlotte, NC on Saturday, November 16, 2013. One of those life experiences that brand us and mold us into who we are. At least that is true for me.  I’ve spent the last few days processing the weekend.

The journey began Friday at 5:30 am. I drove across state to pick up my friend Becky, and from there we drove to Cleveland to grab Sheryl. The three of us barreling south, eating peanut M&M’s while listening to Blake Shelton. Conversation among three women, the comfortable silence, the introspection that happens when you’re driving for hours and hours. These women didn’t know Jillian well. They know me, and they knew how important this walk was going to be for me. They wanted to be there. For me. I love these women.

                                                           Becky, Me, and Sheryl

The phone call from Reverend Carol at 7:30 that evening,  “ Where are you”? Only 15 minutes away! Fifteen minutes away from the hugs I’ve been waiting for. Fifteen minutes from meeting the most incredible people I’ve been in contact with the last two years. The people that have helped me navigate through the belly of melanoma, and the ones that are still helping me today.


Bossy and Crabby


        Sandy Klein and her husband     



   Tara Gill, Mark Williams, Rev Carol Taylor
     Cindy Meadors Rutledge, Sandy Klein, Me,


Men in Black 

                                                            Rev Carol and Tara Gill

I think about the crazy busyness of our lives. I'm observing people as they go about their daily responsibilities. Focused. Organized. Get it done. Rush, to the finish. I used to be that person. Too focused on myself to really realize what was going on around me. If I heard that someone was walking for a cause, or organizing an event, my thoughts would be more in  line with, “That’s nice, but I’m too busy to get involved with that right now”. Or….”I’m glad I don’t have to do all that work”. Or….just nothing at all. I had no idea what was behind their particular cause. I didn’t realize the passion, the conviction or even the pain associated with the decision to get involved. Was I too busy to care? Sounds like I was. 

                                                         The Family of Katy Ault Phillips

The melanoma warriors I met this past weekend traveled from all over the United States to meet and to walk for their passion. Colorado, Oregon, Illinois, Texas, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Georgia, Ohio, Wisconsin, Michigan. Was it easy to be there? No. Would we change it? Never. There is unity here and a connection wound so tightly,  nothing can unravel it. I am absolutely humbled to be a part of this movement, and a part of this melanoma community. Jillian’s death has taught me to dig deep. To reach in as far as I can to try to connect until I get it. Sometimes it hurts. That’s not true. Most time it hurts, but the rewards are tenfold. 



                                                       Standing/Walking United



Thanksgiving is right around the corner. I’ve got much to be thankful for. Even for the pain of growth and understanding.

~Peace

And Martha, this is for you. Because you asked. My Speech:


Good morning everyone. It truly is an honor for me to be here with you today. 

I’m Susan Hayes, and I’m Jillian’s mom. I was planning to attend this walk last year in honor and in support of Jillian as she battled stage IV melanoma. I was unable to make it, because Jillian had taken a turn for the worse.  I needed to be home with her.
This year, I’ll be walking in Memory of Jillian. Jillian died on December 29, at the age of 23. I’m not happy about that.

When Anne invited me to speak today, I asked her what she wanted me to talk about.  Her response was, ”Just share Jillian’s story. Talk about her motto, Fall Seven Times, Stand up Eight”. Well, that’s’ easy.

Jillian was 19 when she was first diagnosed with melanoma . She had a mole on her back that had begun to bleed. After the mole was removed , we waited for the pathology results. We were not prepared when we heard the words, It’s Melanoma. Cancer. Stage 2. How can someone this young have melanoma? I barely knew what melanoma was. Well, I know now….., and what I do know, I wish I had known years ago so I could have protected my daughter.  

Before her diagnosis, Jillian had been an avid tanning bed user since she was 16. She even worked at a tanning salon and had unlimited tanning time. I didn’t know how deadly tanning beds were. For the next year Jillian had routine checkups every three months. On the year anniversary of her initial diagnosis, Jillian’s doctor ordered a PET scan. There were no symptoms of melanoma, nothing. He just wanted to make sure that things were okay.

We learned then what a sneaky beast melanoma can be.

Just one day before Jillian turned 21, we were told her cancer had spread to her liver, lungs and brain, bringing her to Stage IV melanoma. This began the battle of a lifetime. Not only for Jillian, but for her family and friends.

For the next two years, Jillian endured several surgeries, three stereo- tactic radio surgery’s on her brain tumors, whole brain radiation, a clinical trial, chemotherapy, and the recently approved drugs Zelboraf and Yervoy. Nothing could stop the progression of this disease for her.

But through all of it, Jillian was unbroken. She displayed courage, grace and determination. She had an iron will to live. Her positive attitude never wavered.  Jillian fought against melanoma with everything she had, falling several times, but always standing back up. Always.  I am so proud to have been her mother.

Even though Jillian isn’t here in the flesh today to continue her battle against melanoma, her spirit is alive and well. Through the efforts of AIM at Melanoma, and those who are affected by this horrific disease, we can all stand together in our fight against melanoma.

I know Jillian’s is standing tall right beside us today, and she will be there to celebrate when we do find that cure.

Fall Seven Times, Stand up Eight.

Thank you, Jillian. We will.



Monday, November 4, 2013

Guilty As Charged...

Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight.

Jillian’s motto. The word’s I try to honor and live by. The words I use to inspire. But at 4:00 am, those words mean nothing. I’m alone with my thoughts with only my pup allowed to see my mask unveiled. Is it really a mask, or just who I am today? I think it’s both.

Halloween has always been a favorite “holiday” of mine. For years I’ve decorated my house inside and out. Looks like Vegas. The more decorations the better. Tacky? Yeah. Do I care? Nope.

Last year my house was dark. There was no one home to answer the door as I was in Gobels taking care of Jillian.  I drove straight from her place to help Josh and Kaytie as they took their kids trick or treating in their new neighborhood. I didn’t get home until all the goblins had gone to bed.


This year I was home, but I didn’t decorate. Instead, I passed out candy in between packing up Jillian’s room.  I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, in fact I’ve been avoiding it. As I’m packing away all of Jillian’s soccer trophy’s and medals,  it felt as if she was in the room with me. We were sharing stories, singing our hearts out to the Backstreet  Boys as we barreled  down the highway toward some soccer tournament in some state. We were just hanging out. Doing what we’ve always done.




But in the quiet dark of the early morning hours, the reality hits yet again. Jillian is not here. I just packed up her room. And what I felt this morning was guilt. Yes, we can add guilt to my crazy collection of emotions. 

Guilt that I was unable to protect her from melanoma. Guilt that I didn’t know the dangers lurking underneath the glass of those tanning beds. Guilt that I thought her freckles were “cute”. Guilt that the only worry I had from her frequent sunburns was whether she was in pain.

No one needs to fix it for me by telling me I’m not guilty and shouldn’t feel that way.  I’m not going to debate my feelings. I am guilty.


The awareness I’ve tried to share about melanoma has many faces, too. I want to educate. I want to expose the freaking beast. I want to prevent another family from having to pick up the pieces of a shattered life. I want to honor Jillian. But by digging deep, I’ve discovered another reason.  I want to make it up to Jillian by helping to save lives through these efforts. I didn’t save her life. I hope I can help save yours.



“Laying out and tanning beds pretty much screwed me”.
~ Jillian Hayes

I’m still standing, by the way. A little wobbly from time to time, and  plenty of scabs on my knees, but I’m up. It’s 7:00 am now, and the sun will be rising soon. It always does.

~Peace

Friday, October 11, 2013

Building Fields, Moving Mountains.....

It’s quiet at 4:00 am. I’m on my deck, drinking coffee as I clear the cobwebs from my head. It’s cold, but I like the quiet time outside before the busyness of the day begins. To be honest, I’m waiting for the owl that I heard the morning Jillian died. Jillian comes to me in many ways. The owl is just one of them.

While I’m sitting outside, I allow my thoughts to wander. Just random, fleeting thoughts. I was thinking back to a year ago when Joshua ran in the Chicago Marathon in honor of Jillian. Sunday, Josh will run in her memory. I wasn’t thinking back then that Jillian wouldn’t be here today. The excitement I felt as Josh finished the marathon was not overshadowed by sadness. I was just proud. And Jillian was proud of her brother.

As Josh runs in his sisters memory Sunday,  I’ll be thinking of them having quiet moments together.  I’ll picture them holding each other up, supporting one another. I will once again be proud of my son for his training and dedication to a cause so personal to him, but I will be swelling with pride for Jillian as I remember her own personal marathon, and how she crossed the finish line a winner.

The owl didn’t come to me this morning, but a scene from the movie, Field of Dreams, did. Kevin Costner plays a farmer, Ray Kinsella, and hears a voice that whispers, "If you build it, he will come", and sees a baseball diamond. His wife, Annie, is skeptical, but she allows him to plow under his corn to build the field.

Where does this stuff in my head come from? Never mind. I already know. Or at least I think I do, so I’m going with it.

Education. Awareness. Cure. Hope. Fear. Tanning Industry. Grief. Determination. Anger. Jillian. Melanoma. Death. Life. Fields.  Mountains.

I started Jilly’s Jems for Jillian so the word “Cancer” could be a part of our everyday vocabulary. I knew Jillian would have a hard time talking about her illness. I wanted the “C” word in the open, but with a positive spin.  That  White Elephant  had to leave the room. Through it all, I’ve met the most incredible people who have become very dear to me.  Melanoma warriors and their caregivers , many of whom have started their own grassroots movements.

After Jillian died, our family started the Jillian HayesFoundation.  Another tiny speck in the world of Foundations. None of these grassroots groups are anywhere near being Susan G. Komen.  Not even close. We don’t have the funding, we don’t have the backing. But all of them have the passion and the dedication to make their voices heard.

The Billboard Campaign has become a very effective tool. By being  LOUD, we’ve been given several opportunities to educate and to spread awareness to melanoma. I believe this is the start of something I can’t begin to imagine, but I’ve learned long ago I don’t need to have all the answers now.





Please consider donating to Josh’s marathon. The money goes directly to the Jillian Hayes Foundation. We are small. The money will be used to fund the billboards for now.  Please help us to get LOUD!


I’m a dreamer. I’m asking. Thank you.

~Peace


Thursday, October 10, 2013

Here I Am...

 Crazy. That’s what this past week has been. I’ve been on a roller coaster that insists on switching tracks. The ride holds the same sense of exhilaration and loss of control, but the rail's aren’t the same. Either way, I was left dizzy and disoriented.

Saturday was a magical day. Jonathan and Ashley exchanged wedding vows and started their new life together as husband a wife. The venue was spectacular. Set outdoors, with all of falls glorious colors on display. The groom was so handsome and anxious to have this beautiful woman as his bride. And Ashley. Ashley absolutely radiated emotion and happiness. So good and pure is her heart.  The love they share for one another was evident to a blind man. I’m so  very proud of both of them.

But even as we celebrated this happy event, there was an empty spot at our table. Push the thought under the tablecloth all you want, it demands attention. The white elephant in the room burst through my heart and into my world on Monday with a vengeance. Not to be ignored this time. Oh no.  I grieved openly for Jillian all day Monday. I spent the day remembering, crying, smiling, cursing and laughing.


And then I got busy. I had a speech to write for our trip to Lansing  on Tuesday. Josh and I were scheduled to testify before the House Regulatory Reform Committee in support of the House Bill, 4405 which would ban minors from using tanning beds. The experience itself was an eye opener. I wasn’t expecting a hot debate, but that’s how the show went.


There was only one testimony opposed to the bill, Joseph Levy, executive director of the International Smart Tan Network, representing the tanning industry. Right about here is when I began to see red. Misleading information blurred my vision. Jenni and Joshua and I kept exchanging glances, stunned by the testimony. Sitting next to my 20 year old daughter as tears streamed down her face in grief, fueled my fire. Red. Livid. PISSED OFF MAMA BEAR!

I settled down a little bit after West Bloomfield dermatologistDr. Kay Watnick told the committee bluntly: “I can’t even begin to refute what you just heard.” By the time all other supporting testimony was heard, we were short on time. Josh and I had our turn to speak, and I’m hoping we made a difference. The bill has a long, difficult journey before it becomes law. In any case, this is just the beginning as we build momentum and strength for the upcoming battles.


As I process the last few days, I think about our sermon a few weeks ago. Our pastor assigned us with a task. He asked each of us to take a walk in nature and find a rock and bring it home.  Hold the rock in your hand and say these words:

Here I am
Here you are
Here we are together

I found my rock when my dear friend Sheryl and I were in the UP, visiting Pictured Rocks earlier this month. I’ve always felt most connected to God when I’m outside enjoying nature. He talks to me then. But I was reminded again on Tuesday, that I don’t need to be outside to hear Him speak. I brought my Rock with me to Lansing. In my purse, heavy with His promise.



I’m arming myself for the next roller coaster go round’. Because there will always be one. And I’ve got my Rock.

~Peace

Friday, October 4, 2013

Bean's In A Box...


For those of you who knew Jillian personally, I’m sure you remember her nick name, Jilly Bean. That name originated when she was a very young girl. Jillian was in perpetual motion, always with a ball in her hand, or between her feet. She scampered like the wind, never slowing down until dark. And even then, bedtime was a challenge. Jumpin’Jilly Bean.

That high energy followed her where ever she went. She was a girl with a true zest for life. And it was contagious. You couldn’t help but feel alive when you spent time with her. And happy, and silly. There are days when I cannot for the life of me get my arms around the idea that this energetic being is not sharing this world with us anymore, and that the force of who she was, is just….gone. Some days I just shake my head in disbelief.

I’ve been avoiding going through her things. They have been sitting in boxes upstairs in her closet. One day a couple of weeks ago, I put on my big girl pants and started to dig in. The first box I came to looked safe, labeled, “Jill’s Shoes”. The second, “Jill’s Coats”. One by one, I went through her boxes of clothing until I came to the one labeled, “Jill’s Dresser”. Inside the box, nestled on top of some of her personal items, were her wigs. I took one look at those wigs and snapped the box shut.  The memory of Jillian, Steve and I, as we went shopping for those wigs, slammed through my heart, making it hard to breathe. I recalled trying really hard to make the outing fun that day. It was precious to see Steve gently pull back what hair she had left, as he placed the wig on her head. It was a sweet, loving moment those two shared together, and I got to be a part of it. Fun? No. Sweet? Absolutely.


I put the boxes away, knowing they’d be waiting for me when I had just a little more courage to face them again. Throughout the day and into the night, the thought of those boxes lingered with me. I kept thinking, “This is her life. Jillian’s life in a box”. Everything she ever owned is in those boxes. I touch her things, and I can still smell her. But now, I can feel her. She is all around me, my constant companion. She’s not about to be stuck in a box. Nothing could hold her. No one could tell her what to do, how to behave or how to think.  She is still bursting through this world, making waves.

Our family is headed to Lansing, Michigan this coming Tuesday to share Jillian’s story in front of the Committee on Regulatory Reform to support Bill 4405. This bill would ban tanning beds for minors in Michigan. I know Jillian will be with us as we speak out in her honor, for all of those currently effected by melanoma, and for the many people who are unaware of the dangers of tanning beds.

Life moves forward. It just does. We have many reasons for rejoicing and many opportunities to choose Joy.

This weekend is my oldest son, Jonathan’s wedding. Saturday he will be marrying the love of his life, Ashley. What a celebration of love. Jillian won’t be there to celebrate in the flesh, but I know she’ll be there is spirit, dancing and carrying on just like she always did. The Circle of Life. New life, new beginnings.



Jilly in a box? No way.

Peace and Joy~


Thursday, September 12, 2013

Red Raspberries....



So many thoughts of Jillian this past week. Oh, she is always right there on my mind. Never, ever, but a second away. But this week has been exceptionally emotional. It started Sunday in church.

Each Sunday while in church, my mind goes back to the first Sunday after Jillian’s death. I knew I should probably stay home from church that day,  but I went anyway. It was a week after she died. Immediately as the music began to play, the familiar lump rose in my throat. I could feel my eyes begin to well with tears. If I keep my eyes open and don’t blink, perhaps the tears won’t fall down my face. That didn’t work. Trying to sing around my swelling throat didn’t work either. I submitted to the tears as they silently slid down my cheeks and stood in silence listening to the singing around me. I don’t remember much after that, but sitting down I began to feel the heavy hand of grief as it threatened to suffocate me. I bolted out of church as the sobs had their way with me. I called my son Josh, who had been sitting next to me, begging him to take me home.

So as that memory still lingers each time I go to church, I have control over it. What I don’t have control over is the other memories that pop out of nowhere. This past Sunday I had a flashback to about a year ago.

Jillian started to display symptoms of growing tumors last summer. She was losing feeling in her left side and it was difficult for her to walk without assistance. She had  just completed her first round of chemo.  I slept in the room upstairs across from her room with a monitor so I could hear her if she needed help.

It was 5:00 am when I heard a loud crash and her cry, “Mama!”  I scrambled out of bed to find her wedged on the floor between the bed and the night stand. I have no idea how I mustered the strength to get her out of that tight spot and into bed, but I did.

Jillian rarely complained about her illness and the effects it was having on her body. She was used to having full control over her body. A well-oiled, athletic machine made for playing soccer. To see her cry, and to hear her plea, “Why is this happening to me now?” tore me in half. I gently stroked her face as the sobs subsided and she fell back to sleep.

That was the memory from last Sunday.

Monday the new Billboards were up and running. The Scars of Melanoma. Scar photos of melanoma warriors who are brave enough to share their battle wounds. Not because they relish the exposure,  but dedicated to educate the world that melanoma isn’t pretty.  Real people, real scars. What you don’t see on these billboards are their internal scars of fear and suffering. Those scars aren’t always easy to display.

I-196 .3 Mi E/O Chicago Drive SS/Facing East
M-6 .3 Mi E/O Kalamazoo Avenue SS/Facing West
US-131 950 ft N/O 28th St/Facing North


Wednesday, I received a post card in the mail addressed to Jillian. It was from a local tanning salon wishing Jillian a Happy Birthday and gifting her with free tanning. I realize it was a mass mailing, and unintentional on Tropi Tan’s part, but it was shocking just the same. And I really was okay, until I read the blog post by a fellow melanoma fighter Al Estep, who authors Black is the New Pink-Fight Melanoma. 

I plan to use this postcard as a tool to promote melanoma awareness. It’s upsetting to see how the tanning industry promotes health and good looks to a deadly killing machine.


“Laying out in the sun and tanning beds pretty much screwed me”- Jillian Hayes

Yesterday I was talking with my mom and she relayed a story to me. She had just returned from  my Dads gravesite to visit and to freshen up the flowers. A couple of rows away she spotted an older gentleman standing quietly. You have to know my mom. She makes friends where ever she goes. And if you’re lucky, the next time you meet her, you’ll be greeted with a plate full of cookies. The ultimate caregiver.

As she approached the gentleman, they began to talk. She learned that his wife had died within a week of my dad. They were both creative people, one being a painter, the other a photographer. They traveled the world together, sharing their lives . As they parted, saying  their good byes, the gentleman offered his hand to my mom. One hand contained two red raspberries. With each graveside visit, the gentleman would gently place a raspberry on his wife’s grave, as he partook of his own. Together they would enjoy the memories of their life together, sharing their raspberries.

Yes, the week has been an emotional one, filled with memories. Some are sweeter than others, but I’ll cherish every berry.


Peace~