On October 16th our lives changed. After a week in the hospital with pneumonia, Christie took a turn for the worst and the doctors delivered the horrible news -- this was it, her body was failing and her days were numbered. For those of you that don't know the whole story; yes she was sick, yes it was a terminal disease but no one saw this coming. Many people live with ALS for years. And while she diagnosed 8 months ago, doctors guesses she had been battling for years. But still, the end was not in sight. Jenny had come to visit the week before, they traveled to Greenville to witness the birth of Shelly's baby.
Christie was not a sit-still type of person. She was always on the run. Literally, running everywhere she went. ALS is not an easy pill for anyone to swallow but for such a vibrate, lively person -- it was almost too much to imagine. From the get-go she made clear the things she would be willing to except and the things she wouldn't. That is the thing with this horrific disease, you have no time line, everyone is different. You never know when you are going to lose a skill that the rest of us take for granted. In her final days, Christie wanted to be home. She wanted her grandchildren and family around her. But when you are the type of person that has touched the lives of so many you get more than that -- you are also surrounded by friends. I am still amazed at the number of people that came to visit in those last few days. I loved hearing their stories of how she touched them and changed their lives.
With such a large family it was interesting for me to watch the different ways in which people grieve. Pat is not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, much like his mom. Its funny though, I think sometimes people associate being non-emotional with being unkind or intensive but the two of them are far from those things. The opposite actually! They would do anything for anyone and their top priority is making sure everyone is having a good time. I recently wanted to write a post about what a wonderful father my girls have. Thinking about what I wanted to say makes me want to thank Christie even more. There is so much of her in him. He is who he is because of her -- the father, the husband, the friend, the brother; and that is what makes me (and everyone else) love him.
Pat channeled his grief physically. When we arrived at the Stier's Saturday morning, after Christie came home. Pat took his chainsaw and headed into the woods. I didn't ask questions I just let him do his thing. After a while he recruited Rob and the two of them spent hours creating a fire pit. Recently, Jon had some trees cleared to showcase a giant, beautiful oak (I think) so he and Christie could sit on the porch with a nice view just beyond the pool. They created a place for us to gather. Pat found bricks from a fort he had when he was young and cut pieces of downed trees to make a path and circle around the pit. He lined the path with candles and we all spent Saturday night around the fire, singing and dancing and crying and having fun. I think there are some people that would find the chaos and laughter around the house that weekend slightly odd. But not if you knew Christie, that is what she wanted. The kids sang and danced for her. We all talked and told stories and laughed. And of course, we cried.
Late Sunday night Jenny's family arrived. I had gone home but Pat was still there working. I am so very thankful that he was there that night. He sat in the room with the girls and a few of his sisters and his dad as they sang to Christie. They chose her favorites, starting with 'Puff the Magic Dragon' and moving on to 'Leaving on a Jet Plane', that was when Pat headed home. He said those moments were "magical" and when we got the news the next morning that she had passed, Pat felt peace. Being there, knowing she was hearing those children sing to her, feeling all of the love in the room; it took him back to his childhood. It brought back all of the wonderful memories his mom made with their family. That's how he wanted to remember her. Christie Stier had changed over the last year and that was hard for him to watch. Knowing that she is no longer suffering brings us tremendous peace. Sometimes so much that the thought of tears are nowhere in sight. Then other times, seemingly out of nowhere, I feel my face get hot and my eyes start burning -- I cannot contain my sorrow. Living life without her around is going to be tough but I am SO glad to have the privileged of being a part of her family and now moving forward as a part of her legacy.
Pat spent tireless hours after her passing working with the pros to create a beautiful path and fire pit, "Camp Christie". A place that we can all come together to laugh and play, reminisce and reflect. On Sunday, when the dust settled it served as a meeting place for the family.
Jenny and I were talking the other day and she remembered how much Christie loved to have her kids home. She didn't care if they laid on the couch all day, left their stuff everywhere, didn't clean up after themselves, she just wanted them around. She wasn't a mom that ever seemed to want a break -- she didn't like "goo goo" and she would often announce that the "kitchen is closed" but she never seemed to mind chaos as long as everyone was together. She would travel hours to clean her kids homes or buy a certain type of clothing or food she knew they would like. She was a giving person, giving most fully to her family.
To my other mother, the women who wore a fanny pack because it is the most convenient thing in the world and didn't give one thought to what anyone else was thinking. May we all be like you, more carefree and loving, less judgmental and vain. Thank you for bringing some of my best friends into this world!
Cora going for a fanny pack ride with a "lolly"!
Pat and Shelly!
