There is nothing harder than losing a loved one. Only God can give you the strength, peace, and comfort necessary to handle the unbearable sadness and suffering you feel. I experienced this myself 11 years ago when I sat next to my dad’s hospice bed in his final days at home. In just 3 weeks time, my dad was hospitalized, diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer (as a nonsmoker), brought home with hospice care, and then passed away. It was a complete shock to me and my family. As my mom said at the time, it was a nightmare.
My dad and I were alone in his room on this Saturday, June 11th when he said to me, “I am ready to go, Lisa.” He passed away 4 days later on June 15, 2011. By that time, I had learned to cling to God. Not lean on, cling. And in the month that followed, my Faith was renewed, as I experienced incredible strength, peace, and comfort despite incredible pain. All By The Grace Of God 🙏🏻
I have a vivid recollection of not studying for AP Chemistry exams my Senior Year in high school (1984-1985). Why?! Because when I got A’s, I was teased by the popular boys in my class. I realize now that this was based on their own insecurities, but it speaks to the times – girls were supposed to be sweet, attractive, and not overly ambitious or smart. If you went to college, your main goal was to get a MRS degree.
I really didn’t embrace my intelligence until I went to graduate school in 1992. It took moving to California for me to forge a new path and identity for myself. Everyone but my mom Ulla tried to talk me out of it. Thank you, Mom – I couldn’t have done it without your support.
This is one of my favorite photos of my parents. They were visiting me at my home in San Diego, California in 1998. I was working on my Ph.D. and hadn’t yet decided which state I would seek licensure as a Psychologist.
After completing my postdoctoral residency in 2001, I decided to move back to the Midwest. I proceeded to get my Psychologist License in Wisconsin.
My parents were still able to enjoy the San Diego house during the winter months after my dad retired full-time in 2002. They were very happy to get a break from Northern Illinois winters.
In this photo, they are sitting on my back patio, which could not look more different than my current back patio here in Green Bay, Wisconsin.
Since March of 1990, I have moved countless times for school and work, including twice outside the US, to Sweden and Canada. I’ve lost some items along the way, but luckily several jewels, like this needlepoint, remain. My mom made this for me as a remembrance of our wonderful New Orleans trip. It’s things like this that are simply irreplaceable.
I just enjoyed an hourlong phone call with my mom. She’s at that age when you realize that each conversation could be your last.
We’ve had a lot of adventures and fun together over the years, and I will always cherish those memories. This is a souvenir photo from a riverboat trip we took when we visited New Orleans in March 1990. We were celebrating my 23rd birthday.
During our call today, I was talking about my life with my husband, the home we’ve created, and how I am managing my MS. She suddenly became emotional and said, “I’m really proud of you, Lisa … everything you’ve done.”
Well, that beam of sunshine just filled my whole heart and spirit. There’s just nothing like a Mother’s Love.
Many of us struggle with loss during the holidays, especially now during the pandemic. This is notably true when it’s a parent that has passed on. This is my husband and his mother, Ann Clark, who died on Thanksgiving Day in 2017. My own father, Edward Kercher, died in 2011, a few days before Father’s Day. It doesn’t get any easier as the years pass, as much as you wish it did.
My mom, Ulla Kercher, is an amazing woman. At 88 years old, she just moved to a small home in a senior living community in my hometown, Rockford, IL. She has been a widow for 10+ years and had maintained two houses after my dad passed away, one in Rockford and one in San Diego, CA. My dad would be so proud of her and delighted that she is doing well with an abundance of support from family and friends.
I was with my dad when he had hospice care at home in 2011. One special moment I will never forget … my dad was lying in the hospital bed, with my mom and I by his side. He had been failing quickly since his terminal cancer diagnosis the week prior. Suddenly, he spoke softly, saying to my mom, “There are no words to describe how much I love you.” He passed away a few days later. They had just celebrated their 52nd wedding anniversary three weeks prior.
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