My friend, Andrea Fisher passed away on Saturday, May 1st shortly after 5:00 pm. She was surrounded by her family and the family's pastor, Keith Potter.
Her final moments, I think, were as peaceful as possible given her advanced condition. The weeks leading up to the final days were not comfortable for Andrea. Once the doctors advised her nothing more could be done and Andrea decided to no longer fight, the chemo treatments that kept the cancer at bay were stopped.
It was difficult to see how quickly the cancer took over Andrea's body. The pain she had always dealt with became more difficult to manage every day. And during her last days, Andrea was mostly asleep, almost comatose, deeply sedated.
Although the final weeks of Andrea's life were difficult for all of us, we were all so deeply touched by the incredible impression she had in each of our lives. I have already mentioned in previous posts how unconditionally she had always loved me, how she had always accepted who I was even in the moments when I could not accept myself.
We each, I believe, had time to reflect on how Andrea had touched our lives as we sat and talked with her and, in the final days, sat quietly by her side as she slept. Andrea's life was and has always been a gift to me. I realized that fact soon after I met her while in college.
The final weeks of her life confirmed to everyone who knew her just how much she had touched each of our lives. We all struggled with the anticipation of her passing and carried our grief with us wherever we went, but we also talked of our love for her and her family and how she had deeply influenced our lives.
It is a wonderful thing, a fitting tribute, to share a common love and appreciation for someone, to know and recognize how better our lives are by having known Andrea. She changed our lives and made them better. And the discussion we shared and the sadness and the gratefulness were, really, Andrea's last gift to us.
She is survived by her husband, Steve, her oldest son, Ryan, her daughter, Katelyn, and her youngest boy, Miles, her loving parents, Mary and Al, and a large group family and friends.
In many small but wonderful ways, I, as I am sure with everyone else, carry Andrea's spirit closely. She is often with me throughout my day and most especially when I am training. There are moments on my long rides or long runs that I find comfort in remembering her influence in my life, a short conversation we had, her laugh or, even better, her laughing at me. Often, I have a short cry, say her name, have a moment and find a way to be grateful for all that she was.
My training since Andrea's passing has been spotty, at best. Shortly after her passing, my heart to focus and train just wasn't there. Although I have taken inspiration from her life, I really could not find a way to concentrated and honest effort.
I have, however, been able to put together a solid block of training over the past few weeks and am feeling better on the bike and the run. I am in the last build up before my Ironman taper and anticipate three more 100+ mile rides and a few double run days before the race. I am looking forward to them and, for the first time in a while, have found a mental focus and excitement for training.
Updating this blog has been difficult as well. I had started and stopped this post several times over the past two months, but just could not find a way to finish it. I am hoping that the post gives honor to Andrea's life in some small way.
I do know this: Much of what I know about the good things in this life have much to do with my experiences with Andrea and her friendship and love. My life has been better because of her. And it is for this reason, that I must always strive to find a meaningfulness in this life. It is the best way in which I can honor her memory.
Her final moments, I think, were as peaceful as possible given her advanced condition. The weeks leading up to the final days were not comfortable for Andrea. Once the doctors advised her nothing more could be done and Andrea decided to no longer fight, the chemo treatments that kept the cancer at bay were stopped.
It was difficult to see how quickly the cancer took over Andrea's body. The pain she had always dealt with became more difficult to manage every day. And during her last days, Andrea was mostly asleep, almost comatose, deeply sedated.
Although the final weeks of Andrea's life were difficult for all of us, we were all so deeply touched by the incredible impression she had in each of our lives. I have already mentioned in previous posts how unconditionally she had always loved me, how she had always accepted who I was even in the moments when I could not accept myself.
We each, I believe, had time to reflect on how Andrea had touched our lives as we sat and talked with her and, in the final days, sat quietly by her side as she slept. Andrea's life was and has always been a gift to me. I realized that fact soon after I met her while in college.
The final weeks of her life confirmed to everyone who knew her just how much she had touched each of our lives. We all struggled with the anticipation of her passing and carried our grief with us wherever we went, but we also talked of our love for her and her family and how she had deeply influenced our lives.
It is a wonderful thing, a fitting tribute, to share a common love and appreciation for someone, to know and recognize how better our lives are by having known Andrea. She changed our lives and made them better. And the discussion we shared and the sadness and the gratefulness were, really, Andrea's last gift to us.
She is survived by her husband, Steve, her oldest son, Ryan, her daughter, Katelyn, and her youngest boy, Miles, her loving parents, Mary and Al, and a large group family and friends.
In many small but wonderful ways, I, as I am sure with everyone else, carry Andrea's spirit closely. She is often with me throughout my day and most especially when I am training. There are moments on my long rides or long runs that I find comfort in remembering her influence in my life, a short conversation we had, her laugh or, even better, her laughing at me. Often, I have a short cry, say her name, have a moment and find a way to be grateful for all that she was.
My training since Andrea's passing has been spotty, at best. Shortly after her passing, my heart to focus and train just wasn't there. Although I have taken inspiration from her life, I really could not find a way to concentrated and honest effort.
I have, however, been able to put together a solid block of training over the past few weeks and am feeling better on the bike and the run. I am in the last build up before my Ironman taper and anticipate three more 100+ mile rides and a few double run days before the race. I am looking forward to them and, for the first time in a while, have found a mental focus and excitement for training.
Updating this blog has been difficult as well. I had started and stopped this post several times over the past two months, but just could not find a way to finish it. I am hoping that the post gives honor to Andrea's life in some small way.
I do know this: Much of what I know about the good things in this life have much to do with my experiences with Andrea and her friendship and love. My life has been better because of her. And it is for this reason, that I must always strive to find a meaningfulness in this life. It is the best way in which I can honor her memory.
Ryan, I'm so sorry for your loss and I'm proud of you for continuing this journey despite your grief. I wish you all the best in your training and nothing but good luck in the race. -Tammy
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