More Reflections from the Front Lines of a Cancer Battle

A month after Sharon’s passing - late July and early August 2025

The financial adjustments are less urgent, and a bit clearer now. Some things are still pending, but the sale of our home has closed, and the proceeds are in the bank. I am trudging through the paperwork of life insurance forms, changing car insurance and such. The process is tedious but necessary.

I have begun to schedule some travels to spend time with some seldom seen friends and colleagues around the USA. I have about one trip per month in the works through December. My son and his family continue to welcome me into their active lives, and I usually go along. Being with them is very rewarding and invigorating.

Jason is already anticipating the pain of upcoming family events that will be significantly diminished because of his mother’s absence. Sharon’s birthday in September. The first Thanksgiving and Christmas without her and her elaborate decoration of our home for each. We know these and similar events will have us revisiting the emotional part of our painful grief.

While traveling this week, at the end of an evening, I still have an internal nudge to send Sharon a, “Good night, my love. Sleep well,” text message. I quickly realize she is not available by phone and my heart sinks.

While delivering a talk at this conference, I recalled a football player from twenty-one years ago, and suddenly my heart was in my throat, my eyes were welling up, and my voice was cracking. My emotions are still raw, but I am not anxious for them to dissipate.

People with whom I talk, who don’t know about Sharon’s passing, ask how she’s doing, and I have to find a way to inform them without shocking or embarrassing them.

For years, my practice while traveling has been to send Sharon a text message as I was boarding a plane, landing at my destination, or starting a drive home with an ETA. I am still reflexively picking up my phone to send such messages, to no avail. Each such moment grieves my heart.

Six weeks as a widower – August 2025

Since Sharon’s final days in the hospital, I had a sense that even though she wanted a simple, private, graveside service for her funeral, there were dozens, if not hundreds, of people who would like to get together to honor her memory and to share their Ms. Sharon stories.

After she passed, I mentioned to Jason that I had thoughts of gathering people at Saluki Stadium on the campus of Southern Illinois University, where she had made so many friends and countless memories. We discussed the possibility, I checked with her siblings, and a couple of others, and then decided to do it. Family and friends immediately offered to help make it a success.

I bounced several ideas around in my mind and eventually settled in on a very simple agenda, aiming for forty-five minutes total:

- Welcome and introductions by Mike Reis, former voice of Saluki Sports, and a trusted friend.

- Remarks from Dr. Phil Anton, a university professor with ties to cancer treatment and rehabilitation. He’s always poignant and funny.

- Memories from 1990s quarterback, Jeff Brune. In his phone’s contacts, Sharon is listed as, “Other Mom.” Such has been their relationship for decades.

- Reflections from 2000s quarterback, Joel Sambursky. We walked with Joel through his playing career, his courtship and marriage to Samantha, and through the birth of their children, two of which have battled serious medical issues.

- Lastly, I would wrap things up by saying, “thank you” a lot and sharing some details from our last days together.

SIU Athletics created a graphic, Jason added details and RSVP information to it, and we shared it widely on multiple social media platforms. We also made direct invitations to many of Sharon’s friends and family.

As the days trudged along, the number of RSVPs steadily grew and so did the excitement for the event. I was stunned by the list as I noticed people were planning to attend from Kansas City, Indianapolis, Minnesota, Chicago, Alabama, and many other places. Sharon’s network of relationships was nationwide.

The big day, Saturday August 9, arrived and to our dismay, the elevator in Saluki Stadium was broken. We pivoted to meeting in the Cook Club of the Banterra Center (basketball arena). People began arriving even before the 2:00 start time. The program went very well, and each one shared his heart very candidly. The crowd was between 150 and 200 people, standing room only. Patty Stokes, an excellent caterer, had prepared snacks just like Sharon used to make for groups we would host in our home in Carbondale. They were delicious. After the program concluded, people stayed around for refreshments, told stories, caught up with each other, cried, laughed, and hugged a lot. The room was almost empty by 4:00, the exact time I planned.

On my way to the Banterra Center, I stopped by Lipe Cemetery to visit Sharon’s burial site. I had ordered our headstone, but it would be months before it is installed. I wanted to see how things looked. When I arrived and walked to the burial location, I suddenly realized I had marked the wrong spot for the burial. Oops. Thankfully, her remains are in an urn and not in a casket with a concrete burial vault. That afternoon, I spoke with Jason and asked if he’d like to help me move the urn to the proper location. He agreed.

Sunday afternoon, August 10, Jason and I loaded up shovels, cleaning materials, cold water, and other gear for excavation in the 90 plus degree afternoon. We made the 75-minute drive, set things up, and made the emotional move of Sharon’s remains in 30 minutes. We drove home while listening to Connor James’ lengthy interview with Sharon from 2019. It was amazing to hear her voice. We both were quite emotional as we listened to our departed love. Later in the afternoon I shared a link to the interview with our closest friends and family. They loved it.