Jim has created a website called friendsofbonnie.org to help others facing the diagnosis of cancer. Here, you can read about Jim and Bonnie's incredible journey from the time of her diagnosis to the current post that I'm including below. Jim also includes a very vital link to read for those diagnosed with cancer and covers issues such as insurance coverage and suggestions when visiting your doctor. There is another important link for caregivers or friends and family helping to care for someone diagnosed with cancer. Please take a minute and visit the site and if you know of anyone who could benefit from Jim and Bonnie's words of wisdom, please feel free to pass the website along. Jim's mission is to help cushion the emotional devastation that this disease produces.
Whether or not we have experienced this kind of tragedy in our lives, we need to know that God is our strength. My prayer is that each and every one of us draws strength from the Lord every single day of our lives but especially during the storms.
This is not only a story of courage, but an incredible love story and is the epitome of how Jesus wants us to love...unconditionally and unselfishly. I will caution you before reading Jim's story - grab a lot of Kleenexes!!!
And now, here's our very couragous, very talented friend Jim's story...
09/22/11 This event transpired Sunday 09/04/11. I mentioned it to a few close friends and they unanimously thought I should share this experience. I hope it helps others that can relate to a "connection".
It was not planned.
I woke up Sunday morning and knew exactly what had to be done.
I set about collecting my bike gear, disassembled the tandem, (bicycle built for two) and mounted it to the car rack.
I grabbed a screwdriver and silently walked upstairs, then pensively, disassembled Bon's urn.
Inside it was plastic bag not unlike the kind that you would put wholesale candy in. It had a dogtag / serial number and was secured with a twist-tie binding it shut. Somehow I felt there should have been something more ornate about the internal containment. It seemed so industrial but it is what it is. That too can not be changed now.
So this is it. I've come to this point.
The mineral essence of Bonnie was now in front of me. I could not help but be impacted by the fact that it is really true. We do weight but a few pounds without water. So just what is "life"?
Back to my task.
I knew that I was going to take her ashes with me.
Bonnie liked to ride our tandem at the Moraine State Park's paved trail. We would ride to the end of the trail, then sit on a particular bench. The bench was inscribed with a plaque. " In loving memory of my husband Bob. We spent many happy hours riding this trail together". The bench and inscription were present before Bon was diagnosed. Long ago we had been immediately touched by the inscription's sincerity and looked forward to visiting this bench. Typically we would have a snack while watching the birds and boats from it's vantage.
Dare I touch the ashes?
Yes.
I wanted to be the transferring agent. The link between here and there.
I grabbed a 'baggie" and carefully untwisted the dogtag, then placed my hand into the ashes - and it hit me. At first I was appalled by the grittiness - reminiscent of pestled bones and teeth- and then the flood gate opened. In a moment a thousand memories flashed to the surface.
Good.
Bad.
All of them almost at once and I broke down crying in sorrow not entirely for my personal loss, but mostly for the unfair circumstances that had been dealt to Bon. She was a wonderful person and a tremendous loss to many people. She didn't deserve this.
I sealed the baggie, placed it in my backpack, sealed the urn and returned the urn to it's resting place.
The drive to the park was uneventful. My eyes stayed dry. I felt comfort in my mission.
At the park I assembled the tandem and hit the trail.
This particular tandem is quite striking with a large, flat black frame with chrome wheels. It looked like a .... hearse!
I was going to ride the tandem in the fashion of the "unmanned horse".
There would be no rear passenger.
As I rode the 7 mile distance one person called to me... "Hey you forgot somebody". Lacking whit but having focus, I yelled back...
"no I didn't. She's right here..". and I tapped my backpack. I know they had no idea what I spoke of. It was not one of my more comedic moments.
At about mile marker 6 of the seven miles to ride I found myself fast encroaching upon a group of older riders. We exchanged short pleasantries as I slowed and passed through their group. Mile seven arrived and the bench was soon in front of me. A lady was sitting on the bench looking out over the lake. I tried to stay distant and allow her the quiet moment that she sought. As she arose I knew it was my turn.Yes.
I wanted to be the transferring agent. The link between here and there.
I grabbed a 'baggie" and carefully untwisted the dogtag, then placed my hand into the ashes - and it hit me. At first I was appalled by the grittiness - reminiscent of pestled bones and teeth- and then the flood gate opened. In a moment a thousand memories flashed to the surface.
Good.
Bad.
All of them almost at once and I broke down crying in sorrow not entirely for my personal loss, but mostly for the unfair circumstances that had been dealt to Bon. She was a wonderful person and a tremendous loss to many people. She didn't deserve this.
I sealed the baggie, placed it in my backpack, sealed the urn and returned the urn to it's resting place.
The drive to the park was uneventful. My eyes stayed dry. I felt comfort in my mission.
At the park I assembled the tandem and hit the trail.
This particular tandem is quite striking with a large, flat black frame with chrome wheels. It looked like a .... hearse!
I was going to ride the tandem in the fashion of the "unmanned horse".
There would be no rear passenger.
As I rode the 7 mile distance one person called to me... "Hey you forgot somebody". Lacking whit but having focus, I yelled back...
"no I didn't. She's right here..". and I tapped my backpack. I know they had no idea what I spoke of. It was not one of my more comedic moments.
What was I going to do?
How was I going to do this?
I had felt no need to plan and now I had my moment to....
I took off my backpack, read the inscription on the bench's plaque, and placed the backpack where Bon would have been sitting.
I sat for a moment waiting for inspiration.
Then, without hesitation, I removed my glove, reached into the backpack and removed the baggie.
Upon opening the baggie ashes were placed in an impromptu amount around the bench.
While walking around the bench I became aware that the group of older people I passed earlier at the 6 mile point were now present. They were seated in the surrounding benches behind me, sitting silently, watching.
I instinctively felt that they knew what was going on. I dared not make eye contact as it was taking all my control to keep from crying aloud.
There were still ashes in the bag.... now what?
The wind at this location usually blows inward from the water to the shore. This places the flow of air in your face as you view the water. The wind today was reversed. I could feel the air flowing through the back of my helmet... strongly as if a fan were placed inches from my head.
Standing at right corner of the bench and facing the water I tossed the now silken ashes into the air. Perfectly they evaporated like smoke carried into a breeze and over the water. A second pinch was perfectly thrown from the center of the bench, and the final perfect amount remained for the dust to carry away from where I was standing at the left side of the bench. "A trinity" came to mind.
I sat on the bench, and ate a granola bar in honor of the traditional snacking done at this bench.How was I going to do this?
I had felt no need to plan and now I had my moment to....
I took off my backpack, read the inscription on the bench's plaque, and placed the backpack where Bon would have been sitting.
I sat for a moment waiting for inspiration.
Then, without hesitation, I removed my glove, reached into the backpack and removed the baggie.
Upon opening the baggie ashes were placed in an impromptu amount around the bench.
While walking around the bench I became aware that the group of older people I passed earlier at the 6 mile point were now present. They were seated in the surrounding benches behind me, sitting silently, watching.
I instinctively felt that they knew what was going on. I dared not make eye contact as it was taking all my control to keep from crying aloud.
There were still ashes in the bag.... now what?
The wind at this location usually blows inward from the water to the shore. This places the flow of air in your face as you view the water. The wind today was reversed. I could feel the air flowing through the back of my helmet... strongly as if a fan were placed inches from my head.
Standing at right corner of the bench and facing the water I tossed the now silken ashes into the air. Perfectly they evaporated like smoke carried into a breeze and over the water. A second pinch was perfectly thrown from the center of the bench, and the final perfect amount remained for the dust to carry away from where I was standing at the left side of the bench. "A trinity" came to mind.
The wind was increasing. The air was streaming through my helmet vents to point that it could not be ignored. The sun was shining and the waves were now unusual.
The sunlight was reflecting oddly on the water. At first it looked like a few candles that had their stems illuminated as well as the flame. The visual impression was somewhat like a upside down U or ^ stretching upward. At first there were a few, then within seconds 10, 100, 1000, 2000, 10,000 the lake was aglow with incredible light. It was an absolutely amazing experience that transcends description. I grabbed a tissue to wipe my nose and suddenly I knew.
It was time to move on.
I stood slowly and once again avoided direct eye contact.-out of self preservation.
In my peripheral vision I could see the others look, and not look.
I mentally thanked them all for sharing this moment.
Upon approaching the tandem I observed that somehow, somewhere on the way from the car to this point, a pedal had spun off the crank and the pedal was now missing. The thought occurred to me. Yes, I am incomplete, but I'm still whole. A part of this (bike) is missing but it will go on!
I climbed aboard the tandem and never looked back. A few emergency stops had to be made on the return ride to utilize the remaining soggy tissues as best as possible. I never did find the missing pedal.
The ride home was also uneventful, but the morning obviously was not. There was a sense of.... the word is not closure... but completion that settled upon me (us) and I was at a comfortable point of acceptance.
In Loving Memory of Bonnie Patterson, April 26, 1959 - June 25, 2011.
In my peripheral vision I could see the others look, and not look.
I mentally thanked them all for sharing this moment.
Upon approaching the tandem I observed that somehow, somewhere on the way from the car to this point, a pedal had spun off the crank and the pedal was now missing. The thought occurred to me. Yes, I am incomplete, but I'm still whole. A part of this (bike) is missing but it will go on!
I climbed aboard the tandem and never looked back. A few emergency stops had to be made on the return ride to utilize the remaining soggy tissues as best as possible. I never did find the missing pedal.
The ride home was also uneventful, but the morning obviously was not. There was a sense of.... the word is not closure... but completion that settled upon me (us) and I was at a comfortable point of acceptance.
In Loving Memory of Bonnie Patterson, April 26, 1959 - June 25, 2011.
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