More Reflections from the Front Lines of a Cancer Battle

 Week Seven as a Widower – August 2025

At my son’s suggestion, more like prodding, I began listening to a podcast by a man whose wife had died of cancer a few years ago. There were dozens of episodes, and I began listening at episode one. I was soon fast forwarding through the introduction and repetitive segments. I found it a little psychobabblish and heavily laden with clichés. I will still listen, but with one eye on the fast forward button.

Jason also suggested I attend the GriefShare Loss of Spouse group at our church. I registered and attended the first session on a Tuesday afternoon. I found the information solid, the facilitators friendly, but the process was very slow and tedious. When the session started late, we were off to a poor start. I was happy to engage in the group discussion that followed the video and a short break, but after the meeting wrapped up and I was asked if I would be joining the group for the thirteen weeks of meetings to follow, I made no commitments.

I’m not sure if it’s due to my normal arrogance, or if it’s true, but it seems I’m doing very well in the grief and mourning process. As I have contemplated this situation, I am inclined to think my decades of walking with people through their grief has prepared my heart and mind for this unique season of my life.

Just in the last fifteen years, I have been with three people as they took their last breaths. First, my mother-in-law in the hospital in the fall of 2015. Two years ago, it was my father. My mother and I stood over Dad in an assisted living center after six days of hospice care. Most recently, it was my bride of fifty years.

In addition to these, I have been in an out of intensive care units, and other hospital rooms with people in their final days or hours. I helped prepare memorial service details for many of their families after they died, speaking at several of the services.

I believe having walked through grief and mourning with so many people, across so many years, has prepared me to handle it well. I may be terribly deceived and standing on the threshold of an emotional crash, but I don’t think so. I told a friend once, I was joining Jesus as He is prophesied about in Isaiah 53, in being, “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.”

This could be a result of my approach to problem solving in general and how I deal with serious illness and crises in particular. I began grieving on January 14, the day we received the preliminary diagnosis of cancer in the emergency room. I began to deal with the worst-case scenario first. As we received more information and a clearer indication of her disease, I began dealing with the prospect of death. Having dealt with that, knowing I could handle it, I began working toward better-case outcomes. That dogged attitude and grieving process continues to the day of this writing.

New Places, New People, New Rhythms – August 2025

I was recently able to establish something of a new rhythm to my daily life, finally. It took a while, a few adjustments, and some experimentation, but I finally landed on a suitable daily agenda. As my body and mind seem unbendingly convinced six and one half hours are enough sleep for an old man, I am up very early. I get a light breakfast, watch some morning news, compose some scriptural text messages, X and Facebook posts, and then prepare for my mile and a quarter walk up the road. It gets my motor running and allows me some time for contemplation and prayer. Watching the sun rise over the city is beautiful. I move on to other things through the morning, go to the clubhouse for lunch and return to my villa. In the early afternoon I work through five sets of forty pushups each, making a weekly total of one thousand. This has me feeling stronger again.

I am taking this transition period purposefully slowly. I want to mourn well, wisely, and healthily. I am contemplating what my next season of life may include. As of today, it’s still murky water, but I expect it to clear significantly as the fall rolls into winter. I intend to have a clear picture and a game plan in January.

Attending a new church, living in a new community, being over an hour away from sixty-nine years of relationships, is a challenge. I feel very alone in my villa, especially at night. One bright spot in this season popped up when I sent a note of my disappointment to the church staff regarding some remarks made by a guest speaker. Amazingly, the senior pastor replied to my email, very diplomatically, but he did reply. We traded more emails and eventually scheduled lunch together. The chat we had was engaging, pastoral, and included potential areas of collaboration in ministry.

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.

Please pray for the Fourth Global Congress on Sport and Christianity

Please pray for the 250+ men and women from around the world at the Fourth Global Congress on Sport and Christianity at Truett Seminary of Baylor University in Waco, Texas, USA.

It began on Thursday evening, July 31 and will continue through August 2. Over 170 presentations and panel discussions, plus several plenary sessions will challenge and encourage those in attendance.

https://truettseminary.baylor.edu/programs-centers/faith-sports-institute/global-congress-sport-and-christianity

There are remarkable things happening around the world at the intersection of Christian faith and sport. I will report on the event after it is concluded. Please plan to join us at the Fifth Congress in 2028. More details to follow soon.