Saturday, July 7, 2018. It was going to be a busy morning. I needed to move two of my motorcycles to my sisters to be picked up by the Harley dealership that I had just purchased my latest ride from, and I figured that it would be too difficult for the truck and trailer they were sending to make it down the old country road that I lived on. While we waited we talked about our next vacation out west, and what all we would see, and agreed that the redwoods would be a must, and I could not savoir that priceless moment, because the truck was late, and I had no clue that there, in the shade on my sisters patio, we were spending the last moments together before the bad news arrived that was only a few hours away. Saturday afternoon the test results were in that she had ran during the week. We were expecting an ulcer because she was having so much trouble with her stomach. But she was so tired…Monday was spent rounding up all the tests that had been ran locally the previous week and Tuesday was spent running more tests at Norton’s Hospital in Louisville. Wednesday we received the horrible news of cancer that had started in her pancreas and had metastasized. So much emotion as she prepares for what lay ahead. Thursday was biopsy day, and as we were preparing to bring her home from the hospital, the doctor called us with the preliminary report that indicated no cancer. In the car, riding home that day was my sister, her husband, her oldest daughter, my wife and myself, and for the first time in almost a week, the atmosphere was lighter. It was like a weight that had been pressing us had been shoved to the side, and now we could finally breath. Friday, around 12:30, the full report came in and the news was very bad. The lymph node that had been biopsied a day earlier showed cancer. Now I have something else to place on my wish list, at the very top. Our hearts are broken. I wish I could kill cancer.This will not be her story, but rather her story through my eyes, and other than my mom and my dad, which are in their mid to late eighties, she is the person that I have known the longest. I am overwhelmed.

My first memory of Sheila that I have, where she is not a baby, is from a little four room house that we lived in while we were in Louisville, in the early sixties. For some reason, mom and dad were gone, probably in the yard for a minute or two, and we had a light in the center of the living-room. That light had a very long cord on it and we had both been scolded many times for hanging on to that cord. Well she picked that afternoon to grab the light cord and march around and around in circles, and we were both laughing so hard and the cover came off that light and hit her square in the top of her head and shattered. We both knew we were in trouble and in come the parents, and mom picked her up and consoled her and I may have been in more trouble than her….

Tuesday, July 17… It’s official, stage four pancreatic cancer. Next week she will get a port, start chemo, and a new experimental drug. The war has begun. Two days earlier we laid hands on, and prayed over her. My oldest daughter fasted, and I worried about how weary my sister seemed. I looked around the room and in my heart I just felt dread.Everything seemed to be dragging on after days of not starting chemo, so a decision was made to go to Houston for a second opinion. We loaded up on Thursday, July 26, and headed to Texas. MD Anderson… Friday afternoon and now we know for sure that Sheila, my sister, is always going to have pancreatic cancer, and it was very aggressive. Now the battle was on to shrink this tumor and just maybe, put it in remission, for awhile. It was a very sober ride away from Houston and I just think everyone was humbled by the horrible verdict. As soon as we get home, a stronger chemo than what was prescribed in Louisville will begin, and then we will return to Houston to analyze where we are and where we go from here. So, on this nineteen hundred mile quest one thing was becoming clear to me… that many miles in three days had worn me down… how will someone who has taken chemo for a month make this trip, when they are already weak?

Another memory is from around the time that Sheila started the first grade. We were living with my grandmother and grandfather, after moving from Louisville because of the race riots in the mid sixties. My grandfather had a garden that had just been plowed and tilled, and after a hard rain, we were told to stay out of that garden… I suppose the adults didn’t want us playing in the mud. Well, I put on my galoshes and walked right on into that garden, and I guess I made it maybe ten feet in before I sank far enough into the mud that I couldn’t pick my feet up. I was stuck. Sheila saw me in the garden and She was thinking the same thing that I was thinking… Quicksand. Growing up in the fifties and sixties, and having watched westerns and Tarzan and Bomba and all those other dumb thirty minute shows that we grew up with, we were terrified of quicksand. It seemed to be almost everywhere, and the only way to determine someones demise was to find their hat laying on top of this surprisingly crafty thing that people just walked right into. So what did Sheila do? She put her galoshes on and walked into the garden to get me. Well, if you wonder why she didn’t just go get mom, you’re overlooking how brave she was to come into the quicksand to lead me to safety. So there we were, both stuck in the mud, hugging each other, crying, and waiting to go under and neither one of us was wearing a hat.

August 9. What in the hell are they waiting for? Now treatment will start next Wednesday. So far, it’s been more than a month.Wednesday, August 15, and finally my sister’s chemo has begun. We are all praying that the chemo works and that it doesn’t drag her too far down.October 13. It’s Saturday, and Sheila has finished her chemotherapy. I left out almost two months because they were filled with ups and downs that come with weeks of chemo, but today, with that behind her, she went shopping today with the girls, for a wig. She looks like her old self tonight and I could not be happier for her. Next week she flies back to Houston for tests, and we are all praying for good news.Tuesday, October 16, Sheila is in the hospital again, and she has decided to not fly to Houston. She was just too weak to make the trip. The tests will be ran in Elizabethtown. The results showed some improvement, so after consulting with MD Anderson, the next round of chemo will begin.The next round of chemotherapy started on Halloween. She is using home health now and we are hoping this will help her battle dehydration, and keep her out of the hospital.

I remember the year that Sheila started school, it was the year I started fourth grade. We had just moved to the country and our new school had four rooms. Eight grades in four rooms. Four rooms and four teachers. I had a pretty good year. Sheila finished that first year with straight A’s! As I remember it, her teacher’s name was Mrs. South.

Monday, December 31, Sheila had her last treatment today. This round of chemo has taken its toll on Sheila. I can see it, my mom sees it, I think we all do. I’m sitting here on New Year’s Eve, thinking back on the last two months, and the burden of the holidays that were always such a happy time, but this year was different. Christmas was planned around her treatments so her children could be there at a time when she wasn’t so weak, or just plain sick. Every story has a beginning and an end. I believe that my sister has been praying to be healed, and preparing for the possibility that her time is short.

Our mom worked at a factory in the small town that we lived about ten miles from, and mom didn’t drive. She worked second shift, and I would pick her up late at night. I couldn’t tell you the month, but it was winter, and the roads were solid ice. It was time to pick up mom so I asked Sheila if she wanted to come with me, and off we go. Eager to impress her with my brand new driving skills, I started fishtailing the car, and we were having the happiest time… right up until I let the back end get a little too far around… so we go spinning around and around, down the road and off the side, down an eight foot bank and through a fence. These were the days before seat belts too, so it was an exciting little ride, and we couldn’t tell dad that I had just been playing. We told him that I just lost control and ran off the road, which was technically correct. The two of us laughed about that for years! Dad helped me repair the fence the next day, and we just about froze to death!

Friday,January 11,2019. Sheila, Jimmy, and Beth are flying to Houston today for tests at MD Anderson. Monday is the day for tests. Everyone is flying back home on Wednesday, and it looks like the chemo is working!Saturday, February 9, Sheila has been in the hospital twice since getting back from Houston, and I think she is in more pain now. We are still praying, and Sheila is still trying to be positive, but honestly, it looks like things are getting worse.

We had quite a bit of responsibility once mom went back to work, but it made both of us better because of it. One thing we did to pass time was play games. Board games, card games, or anything we could make a game of, because one thing you have plenty of when you are growing up in the country is time. Our favorite game was seven card rummy. We play hundreds of games of rummy… Hell, we played thousands of games of rummy. We may have been the best that’s ever been.

It’s Wednesday, March 13, and Shelia is a fighter. She had her chemo yesterday, and was weak today but seemed to be in pretty good spirits. It is very hard to watch a sibling wear down and wither away, but it devastated my parents. They were both in their mid eighties, and when we got the horrible news, within weeks my dad changed. I believe my dad started grieving before any of the rest of us. My mom then had to deal with twice the loss, and the reality of longevity is that those you love die around you.Wednesday, April 3, we had to take dad to the emergency room and they admitted him for double pneumonia. A little after midnight, I received a text that Sheila had been take to the hospital with breathing problems. They kept her for over a week.I had envisioned us traveling together, Sheila Faye, Jimmy, Sheila Kaye, and myself. Seeing America and just enjoying retirement. More stories to tell, and more places to see, but things seldom work out like we plan. There were more hospital rooms, and more operations, and slowly what we secretly knew became painfully clear. My sister was dying.Friday, April 26. Sheila received bad news from her doctor in Elizabethtown. Cancer was moving and it is time to stop treatment. Hospice is mentioned. Later today Sheila is admitted to the hospital for fluids. Sunday night and Monday, we were afraid we were going to lose her, it was a very close call. The rest of the week is spent trying to control pain.Thursday, May 9. Sheila finally gets to come home, and in my mind I’m wondering if her pain can be managed from there. Her husband, and her oldest daughter, who is an RN, provided better care than she ever received in the hospital. I was very humbled by the whole experience.

In my senior year of high school, I worked at a little store, stocking shelves. There was a cute little waitress that worked next door and while looking through some of Shelia’s school pictures, I saw that one of the pictures was of this girl. I made the comment that I would like to take her on a date, and Sheila relayed the message. So far we have been married forty four years!

Saturday, May 18. Three minutes after midnight, I had the honor of being in a group of folks who stood around Sheila Gibson and sang Happy Birthday, and I swear she was glowing. Surrounded by her children, and in her weakened state, she seemed so content. She had made it to her sixtieth birthday. Afterwards, my wife and myself went home to catch up on some sleep.

I started a tradition some time ago, of going into stores and photographing myself with a birthday card for whoever’s birthday it happens to be, but this time, later in the morning, I bought my first sister her last birthday card that was never seen by her, and as far as I know, never opened.We got back over to Sheila and Jimmy’s around mid morning. With her family and pastor standing around her, we watch her slip away into eternity at 1:11, May the 18th. With the curtains pulled back on a beautiful sunny day, my sister left us, and all of her pain behind. She was the best among us, and already I miss her dearly, but time will make this bearable. For now, even through the grief, I get comfort from her goodness, and some day, when it’s my time, just maybe she will be among those to greet me into eternity.

Sheila Faye, you will be missed.

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