JoAnne - Closing Chapters - Eulogy July 14, 2012

Upon my Mother's death in 2005, a desire came over me to eulogize her at the funeral. Prior to, I'd always had it in my mind that emotions would be too overwhelming to stand in front of family & friends and speak with any degree of composure and meaning. I felt a calling and was rewarded with warm feelings and contentment afterwards. When Dad died in 2007, the same desire immediately wrapped around me. I spent considerable time, emotion and energy crafting a eulogy for him that I managed to get through in reasonable fashion. 

And now JoAnne. There were many times when I doubted my ability to pull off a befitting eulogy, but in the end, I was content with the result. In my life, there have been many times that I have fallen short of potential or disappointed myself due to laziness or even apathy. I have trouble devoting myself to tasks of ill-defined purpose. These life events were not one of them. If ever I took pride in something, it would be speaking from the heart about three very important people in my life while standing in front of those who also loved each of them.

A video recording of the service and eulogy can also be accessed in the JoAnne Petersen Photo Gallery. A pdf is available in Dropbox. May you find contentment in my words. 

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Good evening.

JoAnne was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia on December 8, 1998. Not long after and periodically over the ensuing years, I would think about this very moment when I would stand before family and friends and share what I knew about JoAnne in a eulogy. It’s not that I wasn’t optimistic or hopeful, I was an Eagle Scout. I just wanted to be prepared.

Some of you may be thinking… 13 and one half years to prepare a eulogy. This could be an epic. If you are among family and friends who know of my long windedness you may be thinking that you should have stopped by the restroom before you took your seat. And if you are among our 4 children who endured lectures and sermons from their Old Man ad infinitum, you are searching for your iPhone to text with friends or play video games.

Before I dissolve into an emoting hot mess, I must offer thanks to those who have helped pull this evening together in rapid fashion.

Dee Orr

Kelly & Heather & Family

Dayton Dodge, TC Brooks, John DiCosimo, Tamara Fatoye, Beth Freeburg

John Sommerville - In many ways my friendship with John is a gift from JoAnne and I am thankful to both of them for it.

JoAnne’s brothers and sisters have come from near and far to be here today. The Deane Gang of 8 has lost a cherished sister and is now but 7. Grief is an unpredictable companion and I pray that yours will diminish in the proper time and be replaced with only fond memories of her. All of you are in my thoughts.

JoAnne’s brother Bill was her stem cell donor and those little buggers came through in fine fashion in terms of destroying her cancer. Unfortunately, that is only part of the battle. Bill is a guy’s guy. He’s mechanically inclined and knows his way around cars and engines. He is a muscle car owner. Some of you may know this, but when undergoing a stem cell transplant, your blood type changes to the donor’s and that was certainly the case with JoAnne. What I also noticed was that during our visits to Barnes & Noble since the transplant, I would increasingly find her in the magazine section looking at all the automotive magazines. Hmm. Curious

And of course, sincere thanks to all of you who have been a part of JoAnne’s journey through thought, word, deed or prayer. Your support sustained her, sustained us in difficult times. I am sure we are unanimous in our wish that this would be a more rewarding evening if JoAnne were physically present to enjoy it with us. She loved gatherings of family and good friends. I can hear her in her best Jewish mother imitation right now. “So, would it have killed you to have this party while I was alive?”

Tonight, let us not allow what we want, blind us to what we have. JoAnne had struggled long enough. All of you, JoAnne’s family and children, me, we have all struggled long and hard. Tonight it is our time to celebrate a life well lived, a life filled to overflowing with courage and love. Cancer has taken JoAnne from our midst. For many among us, this is not the first time that a loved one has been lost nor will it be the last. But for tonight, we gather together in the Lord’s House. We will adjourn together to our house. Tonight, we offer no accord to the devil menace cancer. This is our night, JoAnne’s night. Tonight there will be joy.     

Over the years I would find myself alone, on a business trip waiting for a delayed flight or driving through the countryside returning from a trip. I loved starlit or moonlit nights where I could put the car on cruise control, crank up some tunes, open the moon roof and just roll along. My thoughts would turn to JoAnne and I would search for words. I’d think about how sad I would be without her. How my life would be so different. How unfair all of this is. Then a voice inside my head would say. Isn’t a eulogy supposed to be about her?

And of course it is. But my self oriented view spoke to who JoAnne was.  She was about family and seeing to it that each of us, our 4 kids and me, could pursue our lives confidently and unencumbered. In the nearly 40 years that I knew JoAnne, there was not a day when I didn’t feel as though she was as devoted to me and as impressed with me as I was. As JoAnne prepared for a stem cell transplant in March of last year we had a meeting with the clinic staff. They emphasized the need and the requirement for her to have a full time caregiver for at least the first 100 days.  The person needed to be available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for driving back and forth for frequent or even daily appointments, administering complicated medication plans, cooking, cleaning and in general, attending to most wants and needs of the patient. As I listened to them go down the list of responsibilities I thought, “I’ve been watching JoAnne do this everyday for over 35 years for 5 people.  I’ve had a good role model. I think I can handle it. JoAnne was a caregiver.

Something I once read that has stayed with me is that the height of emotional maturity is measured by one’s ability to give generously without expectation of a return. If that is true then JoAnne had high emotional maturity. Lest we portray her as a saint however, it should be noted that in return, she did expect a late model mini-van with a bottomless tank of gas and a high limit VISA card. Those were the tools of her trade.

No discussion of JoAnne can be complete without talking about her 14-year experience with cancer. The average age of onset with CLL is 64.  It is more prominent in males and rarely found in anyone under 40. JoAnne was diagnosed at age 42. There doesn’t seem to be a clear-cut reason as to why JoAnne was afflicted with CLL. It is often referred to as “the good cancer” because it can often be managed over long periods of time. I am certain that the words good and cancer should never be linked together in the same sentence.

When you lose your life to CLL in spite of extensive treatment, it sometimes feels like death by a thousand cuts. I wish I had kept track of all the needle sticks, blood tests, check ups, hospital stays, x-rays, cat scans, pet scans, bone marrow biopsy’s, ER trips, some in a state of terror, vomiting, infusions, medications by the dozens and pills by the hundreds. If all of the doctors and nurses that have cared for JoAnne showed up tonight, we would seat like a wedding. Family/friends on this side. Medical professionals on this side. And they would occupy the larger space.   

Charles Schulz, the cartoonist who did Peanuts wrote, “Sometimes I lay awake at night and wonder, “Why me? Then a voice speaks out, don’t take it so personal. Your name just happened to come up.” I can’t say if it makes it easier or harder knowing that JoAnne was simply dealt a bad hand. In the end, she played that hand for all it was worth and with great courage.

But she didn’t start out that way. In the early years of her diagnosis, JoAnne struggled greatly with despair and fear. In her own words, she prayed to God to “Just kill me.” She didn’t want to be a burden to family and was fearful of the future.

Let me read an excerpt from a testimony that JoAnne prepared in 2006 for one of her Bible study groups:

TESTIMONY 3-1-2006

My name is JoAnne Petersen.

As a background: I come from a family of 8 children; 6 girls then 2 boys and I am the youngest girl. I am married for almost 30 years and have four children. My father died of cancer in January, 1993 and my mother died of cancer in February 1999.

In December 1998 I was doing hospice for my mother when I was diagnosed with CLL/SLL (chronic lymphocytic leukemia/small lymphocytic lymphoma), an incurable disease with an average survival rate of 7 years. I was 42 years old. Unlike other cancers, you can't cut it out, you learn to live with it, hopefully knocking it back into a partial remission with chemo when blood counts, and lymph nodes make chemo necessary. Eventually the chemo stops working.

I joined a CLL internet support group where someone compared it to stepping off a curb into the street and seeing a bus coming toward you. You know the bus will hit you, but you cant step back up onto the curb.  The only think you don't know is how fast the bus is going; when it will hit you. Not much hope there.

I tried some of my mother's coping strategies: shopping, denial and putting a smile on and pretending I was fine: slap on a little lipstick....you'll be fine. They didn't work for long.

I did my first chemo treatments in November 1999 through March 2000 and while I was sick, I held my own. My doctor encouraged me to try a new experimental drug called Rituxan. He said it may not help, but it wouldn't harm me. I had a severe allergic reaction, asthma, which was not recognized as being caused by the drug until January, 2001. By that time my lungs were in such bad shape that I was using a nebulizer with lidocaine to freeze my lungs to stop coughing and breathe. I had been put on so many steroids, that I had gained 80 lbs and now had a weak back as well. I felt I was a burden to my family and would not be able to gain back any qualtity of life. I had lost contro of my life, which I never really had; just the "illusion" of control. I had read self-help books like "the dance of anger", and seen a psychologist who agreed with me that having cancer was rotten and it was understandable that I was angry with my doctor for telling me the drug would not harm me.

I went to the church I grew up in as well as the church that my husband had attended searching for something? I would sit there looking at the people and wondering - what did they know that I didn't - what were they getting that I wasn't; - It didn't make sense to me, I didn't understand, and I was afraid. I prayed for God to "just kill me". God answered my prayer in a different way."

In September 2001 I was required by my children's high school to put in service hours as part of the tuition package. I signed up to work at their sale that is held in an ice arena. I checked in and was told to go find someone to help. I went up to the woman at the jewelry department and asked if she needed help and she said , "sure." Mary Erickson and I started talking and within a few moments, I had told her my situation. This is so unlike me. I don't talk about myself, and I certainly didn't talk about cancer or depression.

She asked me about my support system, my family. My husband and children were great, but not enough. She asked me about my church life. I said I didn't have a church that supported me. I didn't understand about God.

She said she was starting a class for new beginners at her church and asked me to come. When I told my husband about the woman I met, he said great, that it was serendipity that we met. I now know that it was God who put this circumstance together. 

That was a defining moment in JoAnne’s life. While I once viewed it as a timely coincidence, I now firmly believe it was the hand of a gentle and compassionate God, leading her towards the comfort and peace that only He can offer.

I am convinced that we all come to this earth with a defined purpose. Some are leaders whose exploits are recorded in history books. Others are creative artists who bring emotion to our lives through their work. There are healers, builders and teachers. JoAnne was put on this earth to be a mother and grandmother which, when you think about it is a combination of many noble purposes. The French have a beautiful phrase. Raison d’être; reason for living. Motherhood was JoAnne’s. You won’t find her legacy hanging on a museum wall or recorded in history books. It resides in the front row today in the form of four uncommonly well-rounded young adults who are building loving productive lives. Our children, Kelly with her children and our grandchildren Torben and Delcy. Ryan with his wife Alison, Heather and husband Adam and finally, Wade with his fiancée’ Sarah.

In the coming days, weeks and months, there will be times when we will miss JoAnne. We will want her and that special smile beside us. Watch them and you will see her. We will want to hear that laugh and her joyful voice. Listen to them and you will hear her. We will want to feel the love, compassion, joy and patience that defined JoJo. Hold their hand, give them a hug. You will feel her.

But please remember they do have Scandinavian blood in them so don’t hug them too vigorously.

I proposed to JoAnne when she was 19. We married young, had four kids and plenty of wonderful experiences. But there wasn’t as much alone time for just JoAnne and me as we would have liked. Of course, that then begs the question, “How did you manage to create 4 kids?” We had hopes for a future where we could do the things that healthy people our age like to do. Nevertheless, the last two years provided an opportunity for us to develop a unique and special closeness. It wasn’t a trip to Paris, but in many ways it was so much more.

JoAnne lived a life that honored God. What a simple and powerful description. Even an atheist would understand it. Her mission statement was the same as that of City Church. Love God. Love Others. And when it came to others, JoAnne was zealous in her love for her family and friends. Although, I am not so sure she was ever able to over come her discontent with pokey drivers on the freeway or rednecks in big pick up trucks that tried to ace her out of a parking space at the Mall of America.

JoAnne was concerned that her death would cause great sorrow for me. Do ya think? She wanted to bring me closer to God so that I could experience the strength and peace that comes with a life of deep faith. I have long been a skeptic. JoAnne did not push me. She led by example and over time, I began to follow. I was introduced to City Church, its loving congregation and John Sommerville. John and I would have lunch where we would talk about guy stuff while he deftly wove in God stuff. We talked about Blaise Pascal who suggested that it is better to believe in God and find out you were wrong than not believe and find out you were wrong. 

It made sense, but it didn’t seem forthright enough. It sounded to me like covering my backside just in case. Nor did I want to go running to God for help during JoAnne’s illness. If I didn’t have faith during good times, who was I to ask for help in bad times? I now know that God does not work that way.

It is really quite simple. If believing in a caring and compassionate God gives me hope that a day will come when JoAnne and I are again united, then I am all in. I know that sounds selfish, but I am also driven by a boundless sense of gratitude for all the blessings that have been bestowed upon us during our life together.

When we married, we were long on love and passion and very short on rational thought. We were surrounded and loved by caring parents and family. We had four healthy beautiful children who have grown up to be everything parents could ask for. I was afforded job opportunities that allowed JoAnne to be home for the kids and pursue her passion as a mother. When she became ill, we had access to generous insurance and top-notch health care. We lived within minutes of a premier transplant center where we were cared for by loving and compassionate human beings. They restored my faith in mankind. We found refuge within the walls of City Church among its congregation. I have a gift that allowed me to communicate with all who cared about JoAnne in ways that provided us with strength and kept you connected to her journey. Even in death and sorrow, loving family and friends surround me.

Honestly folks. I am not smart enough to pull all that off and no one can be that lucky. I owe a debt of gratitude to God and his son Christ Jesus. Before she died, JoAnne knew that she had brought me home. She had succeeded in bringing me closer to God. It gave her great comfort and peace. It was our gift to each other.

My dear JoAnne. I have struggled mightily in search of words to say goodbye for now. I found a list of emotions. It listed 70. From affection to zest and anger to zeal, we have encountered them all. Anxiety, despair, fear. love, lust and joy! There was not one that we have not shared, experienced and deeply explored. And after all, what is life without emotion.  My life will be so much the lesser without your hand to hold each day, but it is so much the greater for all that we have shared. Thank you JoJo.

Let me close with some words from a song that JoAnne and I cherished during our years together:

When the years have done irreparable harm

I can see us walking slowly arm in arm

Just like the couple on the corner do

`Cause girl I will always be in love with you

And when I look in your eyes

I`ll still see that spark

Until the shadows fall

Until the room grows dark

Then when I leave this Earth

I`ll be with the angels standin`

I`ll be out there waiting for my true companion

**

God blesses you and you will never walk alone. In it’s proper time we again will be with the angels standin’.

With all my love, Kevin
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And the Beast Goes On