Journey to Normal

John frequently spoke of the "new normal" in dealing with his cancer.

It could refer to the neuropathy in his fingers and toes, energy or pain level, activity limitations, or just what he/we did as our daily routine.  We learned to constantly adapt to new normals.  We had no choice but to do so and to try to remain as positive as possible.

I continue that journey to my "new normal."  I am trying to do so with the same open and positive attitude that John and I found worked for us.

While John was in the hospital, we discovered how often people use the phrase "You're fine."  If you listen you'll hear it frequently in daily conversation.  In our new "hospital normal" we started to respond with "We're not fine, but we're okay."

So many of you have expressed your concern for me in my new journey.  I continue to be amazed by all of the expressions and acts of love and caring.  I want you to know that "I'm not fine, but I'm okay."  Thanks for being there for me on my journey to my "new normal."   Joyce

Preliminary Information

SWANK, John E., 68, of Piqua, died May 31, 2015. Son of the late Ross and Gladys (Guiller) Swank, he was born January 17, 1947 and grew up near Lewisburg. John was a licensed professional clinical counselor in Troy for nearly 30 years. From 1974 to 1984, he served as pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in Convoy. He is survived by his wife of 45 years, Joyce (Braun) Swank of Piqua and daughter, Erin Joy Swank (Mike Wymore), of Aurora, Colorado, along with extended family and friends. A memorial celebration will be held Wednesday, June 3, 6 pm, at Nashville UCC Recreation Park. Donations may be made to Hospice of Dayton or a charity of choice. John's journal of his 16-month battle with colon cancer and details of the celebration of his life are available at itwonthappenthatway.blogspot.com. (Here!)

We're going to write a longer detailed bio here [now online], but wanted to get this out for now. If you're available, we'd love to see you on Wednesday. We're planning an outdoor short celebration around 6 pm (no worries if you arrive later), followed by a picnic. Hot dogs, brats, beverages and homemade ice cream will be provided. If you are local, we ask you to bring a side dish or dessert to share, and a lawn chair. Will provide directions, etc, soon.

Save the Date - Wednesday

Please join us Wednesday evening (June 3) at 6p for a memorial celebration. Venue is between Tipp City and West Milton, Ohio and dress is casual. More details to follow but we're too tired to write more tonight - however, we want you to be able to plan ahead with as much notice as possible. Love to all. 

His Struggle is Over

We feel so fortunate to have had such a positive family evening with Dad last night (see the previous blog about watching the storm). Dad always enjoyed watching storms - he helped his Dad install lightning rods, so storms were good for business. We counted the time between lightning and thunder together as a family one last time. 

Over the last several weeks he encouraged us to miss him but not stay sad. We share his final counseling advice to all of you as well. 

Dad donated his body to science and is headed to Ohio University.  We are making arrangements for a memorial celebration likely midweek afternoon/evening, including a reception afterwards with his favorite - homemade ice cream. Stay tuned here for details. Thanks again for all the support. 

A Change of View

They moved his bed because they heard he liked storms. Window is open and we're hearing the waterfall, ducks, thunder...Also, notice Dad's heron quilt Mom brought in.

Song for my Dad...from my Dad

I brought my guitar music along on this trip, knowing that Dad always wants me to play for him. I probably should've started trying earlier, but I eventually got around to asking for an instrument Wednesday (since we've only made it to my parents' house once since I flew in Monday). My high school friend Jenny brought me hers Thursday morning, the first day we moved to Hospice.

Thursday afternoon I eventually got up the courage to play a few songs. Yesterday (Friday), I finally broke out the song that I wanted to and yet didn't want to sing for him. Back in March of 2010, long before he ever was diagnosed, I received the following email.

A Song for You
We were watching Chet Atkin's special on TV tonight, filmed in 1987, he died in 2001.  A great Nashville legend. Anyway he played a song on it called, "I just can't say goodbye"  Don't know if you have heard it. Mom and I both liked it....I could almost hear you singing it, and I think a lot of people will be moved if you play it. 
Dad

At the time, I put together the chords and attempted to play, but just couldn't do it back then. It's a beautiful song, but I just didn't feel *I* could sing it yet. I did my best yesterday, just for him, when others weren't around.

So here it is folks. You can listen to the original he listened to rather than mine - maybe some day.

The weekend doc (another coincidence - someone who was a family practitioner who had common patients with Dad; Mom recognized his name), just left. Same (not overly concise) report - it could be hours, could be days. Dad is essentially unresponsive now. He's fought a valiant fight, and we are all at peace with what lies ahead. As always, the outpouring of support has been amazing and overwhelming and much appreciated. 

John's Gift

We have spoken again to the very compassionate doctor here at Hospice. She confirmed our feeling that John is in the final stage of Hospice care. No one knows if we are looking at hours or days. 

John is being kept comfortable and, while not always in words, has continued to express his love for Erin and I and those he has been close to. So many have felt the need to express how he accepted them and made them better people. He has been a blessing to so many who can then be confident to continue, however difficult, without him. And I say "Thanks John" for us all