jenberry photo blog

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.

-Mumford & Sons “after the storm”

FIRST #1

In life there are those monumental firsts. You know, the expected ones. The first word. The First Grade. The first kiss and the first job (mine were in reverse order, late bloomer).

Then there are those unexpected firsts. The kind that change your life forever. The first time you hear the word cancer, in a way that is too personal. The first time you feel that your youth has been robbed. Your dreams for a “family” or a “fantastic” career are taken, for a while or forever. The first time you realize that most of life is out of your control. The first time you realize that your life is overcome with a fate that wasn’t your plan. What happened. You feel powerless.  Instead, you are given a new first dream; dreaming that this never happened; dreaming that you’d wake up and it would just be a dream. You feel as if not many people can understand this dark place. It overwhelms every ounce of your life. Everything good, everything fun, all fade. You put the front on, outwardly denying any pain or fear. It is what you do to protect yourself and to protect everyone else. They wouldn’t like what you knew. I know I don’t. It is a very lonely place.

Then there is the first time you realize that the paths you thought were “right” for you, may not be yours. Things take a turn and had you not been forced to go left instead of right you would have missed out on unspeakable and unimaginable gifts. Not only gifts of monetary value, but gifts of the intangible. Gifts that you don’t get by being powerful, hard working, or smart. These gifts Come from going through “bad” things. But, even more, these gifts come from surrounding yourself with beautiful, caring, kind, loving human beings. New meanings evolve for conventional words. The very things you were socialized to think were true, actually expand. Family is no longer just the conventional sense of the word. Today, it was yet again confirmed that we have a huge, amazing, incredible family of our own, right here every single day. Of course, I have family in the nuclear sense; a beautiful biological family who would do anything for me. This again isn’t about them (sorry guys/gals).

Instead, today is about this unfathomable and amazing expanded family that has done the most incredible thing for Steve and me. We don’t know who to thank, we have sneaking suspicions, but we will respect the “anonymous” donation. We want you to know it’s not about the money. It’s about the thought, the outpouring of so many people. We have no idea how many people, who they are all, and why. It’s a bit shameful for us, but we understand. Yes, the past two and half years have been lonely on one level, but on another we have NEVER doubted that we have an incredible “family” of friends. There isn’t a day that someone at work asks me about Steve. Just that bit of acknowledgement means so much, especially knowing that everyone has busy stressful worlds of their own. Each of you have done your part already in so many indescribable ways. Weekly cards, an email, a text, a dinner, coffees, loaning us your pet for the day, offering up your homes for family, offering up your kids, giving flexibility with work hours, making me a scarf, giving me a a camera (see below why), giving us gift certificates for amazon/dinners/smoothies, driving out to City of Hope, just listening, just recognizing.  Steve and I look at each other often and say “Damn, we are truly truly lucky to have such an incredible group of people around us. People are amazing.” I’m not just saying this now. We really do sit around in awe of you.

This is how we felt today opening a package.

To be honest, and we all know this to be true, money will not cure our cancer, not today. But it sure in hell will make the journey a lil easier. Believe me, I am fucking scared. So scared of what is to come. But I was scared the first year.  And, then I thought I couldn’t do the second year. Now that we are at the third, I know we can do it. We have to, after all what is the alternative. Knowing that there is some financial relief, helps us focus on getting through all the crap that no one can change.

These are the top three things that automatically came to mind with the gift.

1. My brother in law will receive a fully paid trip out to Los Angeles to give my husband new life. This is the first and of foremost importance. Earlier today we were figuring out how to pay for his trip. But, for some crazy reason, we can cross that one off the list.  Whoever you are out there, know that you have helped alleviate the financial burden of his trip from Germany.  So thank you.

2. We can cover the previous Stem Cell testing which insurance doesn’t like to cover. So, again, thank you for helping.

3. My time can (temporarily) shift to focus on caring for Steve.  Once he leaves his transplant,  he will need weeks of 24 hour care. This is an incredible relief. (don’t stop calling me for work though).

So, in conclusion for #1, we are incredibly humbleD, flabbergasted, embarrassed, shocked, thankful, grateful, mad at you all (we don’t know who all of you are, which is mostly true). Thank you for your love, thoughtfulness, giving, care, love. I have to say that I didn’t cry when I first opened the envelope. I was shocked. I didn’t believe it. When I sat down to write this over an hour ago, I’ve cried about 6 times just thinking about all of you. Really. No lies. Wow.

FIRST #2

Thank you to Niko Whelan, Marine Amirkhanyan and Tony Cusumano for the first birthday gift in my life that brought an incredible amount of peace, tears, joy and happiness to me.  Steve’s trip to Callanish. For the first time in 28 months, I saw something in Steve that lit up like a freakin’ fire. A peace and comfort that he can only get from a place that “knows”. They know. They can understand the fear, the pain, the emotional toll of cancer.  His week there was a life changing gift that will remain with both of us forever. It wasn’t a cure or a vacation, but it was something that is beautiful and priceless. If I could I would take “First #1″ and give that week to every cancer patient we know.

FIRST #3

When Canon’s PR agency interviewed me last month for the Ron Howard, Imagin8ion, one particular question ran deep “What did it mean to you to be chosen by Ron Howard and Bryce Dallas Howard as a winner for the contest?”.

A seemingly simple question. It took me all but 30 seconds and it hit me. Being recognized for something I love to do as a hobby, helped me see a piece of myself again. It’s not that I needed this public acknowledgment to enjoy a hobby, but my energy has been focused elsewhere and I had lost a sense of self.

A consequence of being a caregiver is the demise of oneself. Helping, nurturing, and being a large part of the financial support all contribute to the demise of self. Don’t get me wrong, I have zero regrets about Steve and our journey. Just as cancer has made us realize that we have incredible friends, it has also made me realize how incredible your life can be when you share it with someone you chose to love.  I cannot even express here the respect I hold for Steve. He is one of the most incredibly kind, loving, strong, fair, giving, gentle persons I know. He never complains (although I wish he would more. ha). He always pushes forward. I am so honored to travel this road with him. I would do anything for him.

However, throughout all this, my camera went back on the shelf more often than it was in my hands. I only took photos of our cancer journey and chose not to openly share that experience to the fullest. My photography was forgotten.  When I entered the contest, I thought there was no way I’d win. You, my friends rallied for me and had the masses vote. I made it to the semi-finals. I was done there. Happy. Then I made it to the finals. Then this.

We sent this song to our friend Karin who unfortunately has to travel the same journey as the dickberry’s, with her husband, Craig. We share a strong affection for this song. It sums up so much. It speaks volumes and can help you understand that you’ve all helped both of our lives to have light shine in and our ship to come in.  We still have so much ahead of us, but this was nice, yes very very nice.

And as your letter said  “until cancer is no more.”