The Funeral

or

"The Saddest Day of My Life"

or

"Love is Everywhere"

After the wake my sister Audra stayed over with me.  She was a great comfort as she had been just a few weeks ago.  She took care of me when I was ill and saw Andy when he was at his sickest, and just before he went into the ICU.

Audra needed a big brother in her life and Andy was there for her.  His passing hit her very hard.  My heart was so touched when she told me how much he meant to her even though they live far away and didn't spend too much time together.  Her presence in the house was a big help to me.  She got us pizza and we watched The IT Crowd, which Andy and I loved doing.

The next morning the body went on autopilot but still with much anxiety.  Take shower.  Brush hair.  Get dressed.  Drink coffee.  We left but I realized I forgot my house keys inside.  Again, making a silly mistake in The Daze.  Luckily Adam had the foresight to hide a copy for me.  (Eagle Scouts always come through, don't they?)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We arrived at the funeral home and they were playing my playlist.  The song I walked in to was one that meant a whole lot to us: "Love Is Everywhere" by Wilco. 

A wash of warmth hit, maybe Andy's spirit was coming through from some unknown place. 

We spoke more private words to him and prepared to leave for the service.

We had another family prayer with Andy and the Deacon before the pallbearers brought him outside to the hearse.  Our car was lined up behind the open back doors and I sat in the passenger seat of Andy's favorite car.   Our three sons, my father, my uncle and the staff placed him inside.  

My father, who gave me away to Andy almost 16 years ago next month, gives Andy away to God now.  He loved him like a son, truly.

He came up to me with emotion in his eyes and asked,

"The T as Andy's middle initial, what does that stand for?"

"Thomas." I said.

"Oh. That was my confirmation name." He responded, a catch in his throat, squeezing my shoulder.

Joe drove me behind his father from the home to the church.  Sun radiated down on us and we reminisced, laughed and cried together.  "We decided Charlie's middle name is going to be Andrew.  We told him in the hospital.  He cried.  I don't think I've seen him cry before..."

"You're going to be a great dad."  I said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And so began the saddest day of our lives. 

We lined up outside the closed doors of the church, waiting for the priests to begin.  Somebody spoke to me with instructions but I don't remember who they were or what they said.  That would happen many times.  

The doors opened, and we processed down the aisle, the pews filled with what I think were people turning to look at us.  However, I don't remember much, everything was out of focus.  It's really like the opposite of a wedding, isn't it...  We sat down in the front pew.

Music began and slowly Andy came up on our left to the hymn "Here I Am Lord".  Oh Jesus, this is actually happening now.  There's no escaping this.  I stared at the cherry wood grain and then down to his face on the leaflet.  I remember the summer that photo was taken...  What a fun road trip that was...

The priest started sprinkling holy water on his casket and it was time to place the pall over him with his mother.  My heartbeat felt like engine pistons thundering rapidly and my hands shook.  We covered him and sat down. 

Thank God for Adam's stellar eulogy.  We knew he'd make it great.  Not even a close second.  If you care to see it (*which I highly suggest) it starts at 12:34.

I was also grateful my father and sister joined Kevin and Bill on "Be Not Afraid".  They have both been so devastated by his loss.  Hearing the emotion and love in their voices as she looked upon her brother, as my dad looked upon his adopted son, made me feel even closer to them.  A new dimension was born in our relationship.  (That begins at 57:30)

I stared again at his face on the leaflet.  Hi, sweetheart... and then suddenly I saw his face from 2 weeks ago, struggling to breathe in a CPAP, desperate to take it off.  I broke down again and felt hands on my shoulders.  Bill began to sing "Morning Has Broken", the song (and singer) that brought Andy to this church exactly 10 years ago.  A gift to his friend.

And then suddenly, it was over.

Andy was being taken away, outside again, taken away forever.  The recessional hymn began.  Engulfed in tunnel vision, I stared at the back of his casket leaving the church slowly and reached for him.  Oh no... Please don't let it be over.  The anguish was all-consuming, I cried uncontrollably, and felt my knees give way but Kate caught me.

I watched him lifted into the hearse again.  People came out to comfort us.  Adam drove me behind him from the church to the burial ground.  He told me about the previous drafts of his eulogy.  We talked about fatherhood, relationships, and marriage.  We said we loved each other and felt the sunshine warm our faces.  

"We knew you could do it, your dad and I." 

We had a private burial with our families at the cemetery where Andy used to take his drawing classes  and he and I would walk every autumn.  As Deacon Jay gave the Final words of Commendation and Signs of Farewell, the sun again came out from behind a cloud and warmed Andy under his garden of  blossoms.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When I arrived at the reception, I walked in - again - to "Love is Everywhere" by Wilco.  Such serendipity.

A wash of warmth hit again, and we were bolstered by the love and support of many wonderful people.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That night, Audra stayed with me again and helped me through an intense depression.  Pulled by some unknown force we jumped in the car with Juno and we drove to the cemetery again.  I had to see Andy.  Again, I turned on "Love is Everywhere" turned the volume up and drove too fast.  The clouds were tinged pink in the twilight.

We pulled up.  The grave was filled in and grass seed laid over.  The casket spray I gave him and the flowers we laid on at the end were gone, with him now as he asked for every spring.  Two flower pieces remained as markers, one created by his former student Ari, and one made by me, Sally and Renee.

I broke down again, hysterical.  "I miss you, I miss you, I wish you would come home... please talk to me someday, sweetheart... I hope you'll talk to me... " 

Audra left me to talk to him and she walked Juno.  Passersby came over the hill and turned sharply to avoid the scene.  Then we sat together, hugging and quiet.

Finally, it was time to go as the cemetery closed at sundown.  Again, we put on the same song, and called to him from the car windows, happy tears running down our cheeks as we drove off.

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I love you, Andy!  I've always loved you!  I'll love you for a thousand years!"

"I love you, sweet brother!"

"See you again soon!"

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Many thanks to some of Andy's friends (who I have never met in person) but enjoyed many wonderful phone calls with them in the wake of his passing.  I loved getting to hear their voices and share in their memories.  If they were important to him, then they are important to me.

The day he had to leave us

 

I recently came across this beautiful Indigo Girls song, "ANDY" 

It's one of the greatest songs I've ever heard.

Our family is processing this devastation as best we can.  It is without a doubt the hardest time of all our lives.  

I am wrestling with writing about witnessing Andy's death.  I use this blog as a way of processing my own thoughts and emotions, as a way of preserving this arc of our lives (without knowing where it was going) and often the act of writing itself helps me to remember.

One of the things Andy would tell me was "You can't remember anything right now because you're panicking.  Once that passes you'll remember everything."

I don't know if I want to remember that day, Saturday, September 5th, 2026.  

The day my husband died.  The day the boys lost their dad.  The day Billee lost her first son.

The hospital called me at about 5:45am to say I should come because his cardiac function was  decreasing.  Despite being on the medication for his pneumonia and viremia, the cancer cells were too aggressive, and his kidneys and heart were simply too overworked.

I screamed full-blast the entire drive from our house to the hospital.  I punched the steering wheel.  I ran through wet, freshly cut grass from the parking lot (valet closed, it was too early) and got a cramp hurrying to the entrance.

I notified the kids and they followed quickly after.  I spent some time alone with Andy, watching him breathing, telling him I loved him.  I spoke some private words, and placed my face in his palm, his arms and wrists wrapped in tape, IVs, lines and wires, his finger tips purple from glucose monitoring.

His mother and sister joined us and the doctors came in to explain the situation.  He is being kept alive by life support but his body is not responding to the medications; the ALCL has progressed too far throughout his system.  A nurse placed the "Privacy Please: a family is saying goodbye to a loved one" over his door.  I called his brother.

We thought at any moment he'd open his eyes, wake up and say he was fine.

Gradually with our permission (which made us all sick to have to do) they began shutting down the life support machines and extubated him.

We held him, kissed his forehead and hands and told him how much we love him.

He breathed slowly and then one more time and stopped.

All of us broke down, begging him not to go, please come back, darling.

We each took private time to talk to him.  Andy was adamant that we stay with him for at least 20 minutes after because "the soul is still in there, and I don't want to be alone".

So we stayed for an hour and a half.

We met with beautiful Dr. Bindal, who I adore, and she gave me a genuine, heartfelt, strong hug. 

"Thank you doctor, I know you tried, thank you for trying so hard for him..."  which she did.  She exhausted every avenue and therapy for us.  She worked hard for Andy from the second she took over his case.  We believe every doctor who worked with him did everything they could to help.

At the end, when I thought I was ready to accept this, started walking to the elevators, then suddenly was overcome with anguish, ran back to the ICU and flew into his room;

"Andy, my darling, I miss you, I love you sweetheart..." and kissed him.

But he had changed by that point, he wasn't the same, and the experience shocked me.  

 

Looking back on it, it's okay, because it revealed that it's not about the body now.  

 

It's about his soul - his soul goes on to the next place.  

His soul gets to be a part of something bigger, more majestic, more wonderful in every way.  

He can see everything now, the whole universe.  He can be outside of time itself.  He can exist forever in perfect love, which is where he deserves to be, if we can't have him here.

Our beloved Andy

A son, brother, husband, father, teacher, mentor, artist, storyteller, antiquarian, fighter, friend

12/27/1965 - 9/5/2026

 

Taken the day before our wedding, 10.9.2010

And just like that...

 

... we find ourselves back in the hospital.

We weren't home long enough to put away the clean laundry when the doctor overseeing Andy through the Hospital-at-Home program decided it was important to bring him back to him.

He was retaining too much fluid again, and even with the strict regimen of cutting liquids and administering Lasix, his kidneys were being overworked by the diuretics, medication interactions and the "Minimal Change Disease" brought on by presence of lymphoma.

Nurse Michelle adjusts Andy's heart monitor, which he wears all the time at the moment.

It looks like a cellphone from 1987.

Alexa being amazing by just being Alexa

During this time, my beautiful and wonderful baby sister had flown in from Los Angeles to spend time with us and help with anything we needed.  

As we were returning from a short trip out, Andy put me on speaker phone with a major piece of news from the doctors:

He does not have Indolent B-Cell Lymphoma as they thought, but an aggressive form called ALCL, Anaplastic Large-Cell Lymphoma.

She advised me not to Google it, which I did not.

The silver lining  is that aggressive forms of cancer respond well to aggressive treatments, as in 90% of patients who receive infusions of chemo - the hard stuff - will see a good response in lymph node reduction.

She felt it was important that we go after the Lymphoma first, then alternate treatments of Vonjo for his Myelo Fibrosis, and then chemo infusions again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

At the start of this journey, I was obsessively reading everything I could about Andy's diagnoses, a dizzying flurry of academic and medical texts I tried my best to digest.  I have to know everything going on, what treatments are available, what alternatives we have.  I am not a doctor, but I was terribly worried his system was being overloaded and that the JAK inhibitor was having an adverse affect on his heart.  

Andy, (who is loyal and faithful like Superman, Lassie and John McClane...), trusts them and their care plans.  I risk annoying him when I pepper the teams with questions about interactions etc., and they are kind to answer as best they can and do not condescend to me, and he knows I do it out of love.

It made me happy to hear about a fierce debate the doctors had with the pharmacologist about when to taper off Pacritinib, and when to begin chemo infusions.  

On the one hand, his tumors are growing rapidly and need to be addressed, on the other, he can not risk toxicity.  

They care about him, I truly believe that with my whole heart.  I truly believe with my whole heart that if anyone can beat two rare and serious cancers, it’s him.

We had lovely visits from baby sis, my dad, Joe, Andy's mom, a wonderful coffee / present drop-off from Kate W. and Mark C.

Joe stopped by with fresh coffee from home, and we tried to figure out whose X-Files mug that was

Mark comes by for a great chat. Sadly Andy was dealing with some serious headaches due to tapering down off Pacritnib in preparation for his chemo infusion. He was so happy to see him though.

Sweet PCA Bea, who has 5 kids and is a super lovely person

Side Note:

I made the speech for the Bride's side at Alexa's wedding.  Because the only things I know about love and marriage came from Andy, the speech was mostly about what I'd learned from being married to him for 11 years.  I have to say, I'm glad it was a good one, because I've made speeches before that were train wrecks, so at least that one resulted in happy tears and no booing.

Her presence was a real God-send for me (and us) because her eternal effervescence was exactly the boost I needed to keep from more panic attacks.

Scenes from daily life

the kitchen table. the cloth basket is filled with RX.

The night nurse about to flush Andy's port.

 

Her dad is also part of the Hospital-At-Home program.

Everyone here has been wonderful and so considerate.

My favorite part of any day now - getting to relax with Andy at twilight.

We looked out the window to try to see any Perseid meteors on August 13th.

I think I saw one, and Alexa definitely did!

The PCAs will take his vitals at 1am and again at 5am, and I will get up with him during the night to help with anything needed, so this time is our most peaceful and romantic.

Andy working in his sketchbook while the pre-season Pats game is on. 

We cherish these quiet nights together.

Our room includes a view of the old Worcester Hospital (or Insane Asylum as it once was) 

A common challenge at our high school was to try and break in to that creepy place, but I don't know if anyone actually did it.

Andy said to me one night, "Let's dance to this song"...

 

Thanks again everyone for reading and for your love and support.

Please pray for his first chemo treatment on Monday.  

We love you.

"Everybody's Free" / The Sunscreen Song (full version)

"Everybody's Free To Wear Sun Screen" (full version)

 This song helps my soul every time I hear it. 

Hope it helps someone out there, too.

Ireland & Northern Ireland 2001

some snapshots from 25 years ago... 

We saw an amazing performance of "Jesus Christ Superstar" done by the Really Useful Group.

coastline of Northern Ireland

from the train

people on the beaches of the Antrim coast

Champion 4H horses 

That's me, sitting there on the left, at Giant's Causeway

  I remember when my dad rented this funny little car in Northern Ireland, must've been like a Yugo -- and I can't tell you how treacherous it was doing down some of the coastline roads!  The cliffs would just drop off far into the sea below in some places.  In other places, cows or sheep would be holding up the road (which was small enough for one vehicle but was technically two lanes!)

The best burger I'd ever eaten in my life was from a little stand on the side of one of these winding coastal roads.

At one point, he drove into a round-about, but because there were no dividing lines, when he came out of it, got briefly confused and was actually driving on the wrong (American) side of the road - almost landing us right into an on-coming car!  But he swerved and all was well, blood pressure just an elevated for a bit, haha.

I also remember finding some lovely shells on the beach (one with pink and black swirl, another with blue and black swirl) and when I came back to the sink, they were crawling up the side of the porcelain.... (because they were actually snails!)

We really enjoyed walking around Dublin, seeing the side-door to a recording studio used by U2 in their infancy, and meeting up with my friend and pen-pal, Trevor.  It was a really nice trip, just me, my dad and my sister.  My pen-pal's family was so hospitable and welcoming.  I think of them from time to time, I hope they are still wonderful as ever.

🎵 🎶

Phil Keaggy  "County Down" 

Audra, August 2001

Month recap: LCD Soundsystem, North Carolina trip, & Scary Pockets

 Well it's been quite a month, between work, travel and family, lots of stuff to catch up on.

Had a pact with family to see LCD Soundsystem should they get back together again and tour - and wouldn't you know it - they did!

It was honestly an absolutely fantastic experience that was even better shared.

Here's a fun video taken from the opening song of the concert:

(I can't even describe how INTENSE the bass was!  My ribs were vibrating!)

I love the lyrics to so many of these songs, but "tonite" is a particular favorite.

We also welcomed a little lady into the family, she's the sweetest:

I took on a bunch of cover work for a few comic book publishers (more on that when I can show the art) as well as an updated logo and t-shirt for our friend's restaurant Uxlocale.  Andy and I are also deep into pages for a few projects, Andy with Makimono and Penguin, and me with Penguin Random House and some indie stuff.

I went to visit family for a week, which was a lovely experience and really good for the heart and soul.  More relatives came in and we had a great time with a large group of us, my sister and her husband being excellent hosts and all around great people.

The cat sunning herself in the music room.

Edge of Urge was such a great find!

Also enjoyed a fantastic meal at Circa 1922, and had a fun time at my sister's cast party when she was done with her show at Thalian. (pictured above)  She even took me back stage to see where she does her makeup and hang her costumes.  

The cast party was at a really fun bar/live music venue called "Where Eagles Dare":

As was the pizza & arcade at Cugino Forno:

Got to finally meet this little guy and it was a blast and a half!

It was so wonderful for the three of us sisters to be in the same place at the same time, especially with birthdays in the family and anniversaries overlapping.  Lots of family time, some Mario Cart, and IPAs.

My sister got me hooked on these two covers:

Scary Pockets "The Chain" (Fleetwood Mac cover)

Scary Pockets "Stayin' Alive" (BeeGees cover)

♬ Enjoy ♬

Alan Bean paintings, Apollo stuff

 

 

 Andy and I watched the Artemis II launch last week, which was exciting, and the subsequent splash down.  We thought it was pretty cool that the orange and blue suits the astronauts wore were made locally by the Clark company, just as they did for the original Apollo flights. 

 A while ago I was really into the Apollo missions, reading lots of books on the subject, watching the Tom Hanks HBO series and some great documentaries. 

I also got really into Alan Bean's paintings.  Bean was the fourth person to walk on the moon, he was the third man on the Apollo 12 mission.  He went into space again as a part of Skylab, but his time in space made him appreciate his artistic heart, and he went into painting full time after retiring from NASA.

 

Title:  "HELLO UNIVERSE!!"

 

The title of this painting:  "Is there anybody out there?!" 

 

 A few years ago, the kids got me this absolutely incredible book of Alan Bean's paintings - AND he SIGNED IT! (Not to me... because by this point he had died... but he signed it to this lady named Emmaline, and it's possibly she has also died because I can't imagine she'd want to get rid of it... ) but  anyway- many thanks to my lovely family for the beautiful gift.

I enjoyed these, for what it's worth:

For All Mankind (1989)

Composed of actual NASA footage of the missions and astronaut interviews and music scored by Brian Eno, the documentary offers the viewpoint of the individuals who braved the remarkable journey to the moon and back. While compiling the material for the film, Reinert went through more than six million feet of film of these historic moments.

 

The Last Man on the Moon (2014)

The story of Gene Cernan, the last person to walk on the moon, on December 14th, 1972.

** Apollo 11 (2019) 

**  This one is just phenomenal, it's made up of previously unseen footage, developed from film canisters frozen in NASA's archives for decades.  In fact, I gifted the blu-rays to a few people. 

Just beautifully done.  Recommended

 Armstrong (2019)

A biographical documentary about the life of Neil Armstrong, narrated by Harrison Ford.  It highlights his impressive military fighter pilot career, his ability to stay calm under immense pressure, and his endearing humility - which became the reason he was chosen to be the first man on the moon over Aldrin.

  In a recent interview with the Artemis II astronauts, one person said "You don't know what we go through up there, you just want to go home..." and that echoed the same sentiments the Apollo pilots expressed.  Many of them felt a crushing sense of loneliness and desolation, "the second we got out there, I realized I just want to be back on Earth with my family."

Definitely takes a special kind of person to withstand the physical and psychological tolls of all that.  (I don't do well with turbulence, so pretty sure space travel is out of the question haha :D )

⭐

............................................................................................................................

♫ ♪ 

Pink Floyd "Dark Side the Moon" (full album)

Never Say Never

A panel I penciled, inked and colored for "Never Say Never" - out via Comixology in the future...

 ♫  Every day is pretty much a draw-a-thon, as it has been for oh... 11 years now I wanna say?  Which is fine by me.  The deal is this: I get to listen to music all day, and sing along - annoying approximately zero coworkers - possibly one Andy, if I'm loud enough to bother him, but luckily he doesn't seem to mind.

While looking up reference material, I ran across this 'zine, and it also made me smile because it looks like someone drew me from freshman year of college (the exact time I went through a riotgrrrrrrrl phase).

Sometimes while working I prefer to listen to something long, like a movie or set playlist, since it wouldn't require getting up and breaking the work-flow.  Sometimes it's best not to listen to anything with lyrics since they can be distracting, and sometimes I depend on old favorites to just put me in a really good mood.  

♫

I really love this one lately:  "Carolina Blues" by Blues Traveler