Lady Traveler's Journey with brother John Part 2

(UPDATE on brother John at the end of this blog)

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of striving safely 

in one pretty and well preserved piece,

but to skid across the line broadside,

thoroughly used up, worn out, leaking oil, shouting

GERONIMO!!"

Up and Away ... Brother John and me on our Mexico cruise
(Cabo San Lucas)

The above quote describes me on most days,

(especially the 'thoroughly used up' part)

because then I know that I've accomplished something,

no matter how small.😓

I felt like this on my "Making Memories" cruise last week

with my brother John, Ger, Christie, Todd, and my Robinski.

Since returning from our California/Mexico trip last week

I haven't done much in the way of communicating to anyone.

Just me and my thoughts,

and Robinski and Popcorn, which is adequate for the moment.

Today is the first day that I've felt like sitting myself down in front of my iMac
in Lady Leaf's Lounge.

I don't know how long I'll sit here so I'll type

the first thoughts that come to mind.

As I wrote in my previous blog,
the purpose of our Mexico Riviera cruise was to 

spend time with my baby brother John.

He was and is my priority,

so whatever he felt like doing, I did.

I followed him around like a puppy.

Watching every move.

Listening to every word.

Holding back tears.

Wondering if these might be the last words I would hear him speak.
(I'm just being honest)

THEN, I told myself, "SNAP out of it, you little baby!

Where's your faith, hope, and love?"

Or maybe it was Jesus speaking to me, not sure.

The first day on board after breakfast, we were walking on the top deck exploring,
when suddenly he stopped and unashamedly said,

"I'm going to my cabin to take a pill and rest."

Me and brother John having dinner on our first night at sea.

I did a lot of talking to myself on the cruise (silently of course),

and even more, talking to Jesus,

especially at night when I returned to our stateroom at the back (aft) of the huge ship.

I'd wrap myself in the long white robe that the large Havana staterooms furnished,
(remember, this was the LAST cabin available when we called!)

and go out on our spacious veranda to 'sit and sip'

while watching and listening to the sounds of the Pacific Ocean kicking up waves below,

and sometimes counting the stars in the sky.

These were some of my favorite moments on our cruise ...

Each night sitting, listening, watching.

These moments took me back to my fourteen months when we sailed
the seven seas and three oceans on the WWII ship Restoration back in 1994,

only this time on a ship that had stabilizers and air conditioning.

The view from our balcony on the Carnival Panorama Mexico Riviera cruise.
the deck below is private for "Havana staterooms" ... two jacuzzis and a serenity pool. 

Morning coffee and evening wine on our spacious Havana balcony 

Each day I silently listened as John shared his heart with me.

Pure straightforward honesty.

I wasn't going to bring up half the stuff he talked about,

but he is so brave, and honest, and funny.

He made talking about stage 4 cancer seem easy,

until he began to speak about leaving his beloved family behind.

Yes, we shed tears together,

but knowing where his strength and his hope comes from,

gives us both courage to face each day that God gives.

Taxi boat to shore in Cabo San Lucas (our ship in the background. Big, huh?)
Christy, John, Ger, and lil ol me!

We shared a week of fun and laughter,
combined with somber, yet peaceful moments.

A glass of wine with John, a margarita with Christy in Cabo and Mazatlan,

and gallons of coffee on board with everyone.

My humble, kind, loving, and funny brother.
Last day in my cabin preparing for departure.
How I hate to leave my baby brother.
A prayer and a kiss,
Until we meet again ....

There was more but I'll ponder those memories in my heart for now.

Upon John's return home to Zion, Utah, his doctor 'installed' a port.
He will not go the chemo route.

Instead, John is now waiting to be approved for
"Keytruda immunotherapy."

I will keep you posted.

John and our family appreciate your concern and prayers,
more than you'll ever know.

(Update below)

I am blessed to have a humble, kind, loving and funny man of my own!
I love you Robinski, especially in Cabo!

I wish you oceans of daily blessings!

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run,

but only one gets the prize?

Run* in such a way as to get the prize.

I Corinthians 9:24

*For whatever reasons, many of us can only walk. 

That's okay, as long as we're moving toward the prize that is set before us ...

Eternal Life with our Lord Jesus Christ.

UPDATE MARCH 2022:

Two years now, and the Keytruda therapy is no longer helping.

The cancer has spread.

John's doctor gave him two options:

Chemo or hospice.

At this writing he is choosing chemo.

He is weak, yet strong in spirit, never complaining,

only speaking the reality of his journey.

Rob and I are on standby but at this writing we'll be driving to

Utah the end of April to spend precious time with him.

Thank you for your continued prayers.

A miracle is appreciated.

Sweet precious brother John went to heaven

March 25 2022