Eulogy

This will probably be the last post on this blog. At Catie's funeral on Friday, her older brother talked about her early years, a friend talked about her college years, and I wrote about the last eight years since we were married. For those of you who are interested but weren't able to attend the funeral, I'm posting my eulogy.

- Steve Stubben


Catie loved to reminisce. She kept journals, made scrapbooks, and enjoyed discussing memories. She often reminded me, for example, what we did on a particular day, one year earlier. As we are gathered together to remember and celebrate Catie’s life, I can’t help but think back to an event that occurred nearly three years ago, which brought us to where we are today. When Catie was diagnosed with cancer, it turned her life upside down. For her, this began a new era—or a new measurement of time altogether—which she labeled A.D., or after diagnosis. The B.C., or before cancer, period was over and life would never be the same.

At times Catie lamented that some of her friends only knew Catie A.D., and that cancer would prevent her from reaching out to them as she would have liked and prevent others from getting to know the real Catie. However, I think the opposite is true. In many ways Catie’s cancer allowed all of us to see and know her in a way we otherwise couldn’t have. It is during this latter period that Catie’s qualities shone the brightest, and I hope to show how these qualities empowered her to meet the difficult challenges she faced over the last three years.

One of Catie’s favorite scripture passages is found in Matthew 6:21, which states, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Catie’s treasures were her family and her faith, and these were for her both a motivation and source of happiness.

Catie has always looked forward to being a mother. She loved her kids, and they love her. She enjoyed reading and doing school work with them, playing in the yard, working on crafts or other projects, or, most of all, just holding them close. She also understood them like no one else could. A couple years ago, we took our kids to a buffet-style restaurant. Our son David, then 3, just loved the all-you-can-eat cantaloupe. The next day, Catie took David to the store and grabbed some cantaloupe, excited to show David what she was getting for him. With a big smile, David exclaimed, “Mommy, you know me.” And she did. Catie lived for moments like those.

Catie also kept the kids safe. One day Catie took the kids to the swimming pool and our daughter Mary wandered too close to the edge and fell in. A friend and eye-witness described how Catie sprang into action and quickly cleared the entire length of the pool in one superhero-style jump in her successful attempt to save Mary from the water. Mary seemed unaware of the danger she had just been in, but Catie cried and cried at the thought of her baby being in harms’ way. Standing in the water, she held her tight, and it was clear how much she loved her children.

Several months ago, Catie wrote in her journal, “My children bring me the greatest joy and I just want to be with them and be their mother, to love and teach them and learn from them for as long as I possibly can.” Catie used her family as motivation to face cancer and to endure the various treatments she was given.

Catie was diagnosed with a serious form of cancer when she was pregnant with our third daughter, Sarah. It was too early to deliver Sarah, and Catie would not give up her baby. However, the cancer was aggressive and had to be treated immediately. So she started chemotherapy until Sarah could be safely delivered (at 30 weeks, 2 lbs 4 oz). After the c-section, Catie had to endure surgery to remove a tumor near her collar bone, plus the entire bone itself. She then faced several weeks of radiation on a secondary tumor located above her eye, and an additional eight months of chemotherapy.

Against the odds, the treatment appeared to be successful and Catie seemed to be cancer free for eight months. Unfortunately, the cancer later returned, this time to her lungs. We knew survival rates at that point were not good and treatments would be difficult, but Catie’s desire to be with her family was so intense that she was willing to endure anything. As it turned out, “anything” proved to be an additional year of several unsuccessful treatments, many hospital visits, and many undesirable side effects. In the midst of her treatments, she wrote the following:

“I have realized that it is my children who make me want to fight harder and longer, it is they who give me a purpose to get up and smile and live each and every day, it is they who make me laugh, it is they who make me happy, and it is they who help to occupy my mind and thoughts. While I hope and pray everyday that this experience does not negatively affect them, I am so grateful … for the strength and focus they give to me.”

For Catie, the hardest part about her hospital stays was not the treatment—it was not being able to spend time with and take care of her children. During one of her five-day hospital stays, I brought the kids over for a visit. Catie had a lot on her mind—a tiny, fragile baby in the neo-natal intensive care unit, concurrent chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and an uncertain outcome. As we walked toward her room, it seemed dark as the lights were off and she struggled to rest. Then as David and Mary neared the room Catie heard them and smiled with joy, immediately lighting up the entire room. We all loved those visits together.

As the cancer progressed, there were times Catie felt almost too weak to continue, but she knew we needed her and so she was willing to do whatever she could to extend her time with us.

Catie was also strengthened by her faith. She had always prayed and read scriptures diligently, but she began to make an even greater effort as she relied on spiritual strength to help fight and beat cancer. Catie posted scriptures around the house as reminders. Two of her favorites were Philippians 4:13 and Romans 8:18.

Philippians 4:13 reads: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”
And Romans 8:18 states: “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

Catie looked to the Lord for strength, and found hope in his words. Catie also found peace and comfort in the words of her favorite hymn, “Be Still My Soul.” The first verse reads,

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In [every] change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy [heavenly] Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Catie’s faith in the power of God and miracles gave her hope, which helped her face each day. Even in recent weeks, as we were out of treatment options and she began to sense that death was near, she remained strong. When Catie’s parents and some of her siblings were visiting on Sunday, which turned out to be her last day here on earth, she requested we hold a special family prayer. Even feeling terrible and with her weakened body, hours before it finally gave out on her, she insisted on sitting upright during the prayer so she could show her respect for God and reverently take part in that special prayer.

In addition to Catie’s faith and love for family and others, the qualities I admire most in her are her positive attitude, her optimism, her smile, and the way she makes everyone around her feel happy and loved. Catie has always been this way, and that didn’t change at any point during her battle with cancer.

When we found out Catie’s cancer had returned last year, we were devastated. But Catie quickly launched a campaign in our home that she called, “Choose to be Happy.” She talked it over with me and our kids, and even created colorful signs to place around the house. There was no way she would let cancer or anything else get her down. Her attitude, as much as anything else, is what helped keep life not just bearable but enjoyable for the rest of us the past couple years.

I couldn’t even begin to describe all the physical pains, discomforts, and annoyances she faced, nor the emotional weight she felt as she watched the cancer progress and worried about her kids, her family, and the friends she would leave behind. Despite all of this, though she had every reason to complain, or to be angry or depressed, she remained positive—publicly and privately. She never stopped smiling.

One of Catie’s favorite nurses described how they would fight over who could take care of Catie when she was at the hospital. He said, “She made our job so easy! It always amazes me that there are people like Catie out there going through the worst yet they still make others have a good day. What a wonderful person!”

It wasn’t always big challenges, but sometimes little ones she had to face, like losing her hair. Our son David used to tell Catie, “Mommy, even though your hair is short like a boy’s, I know you’re a girl.” Our daughter Mary began to worry about her own hair falling out after receiving some bad information about the side effects of Flinstone’s Vitamins from her brother. Whenever Mary saw even a piece of hair on her clothing or on the floor she exclaimed, “My hair is falling out!” Catie dealt not only with her own hair loss but also her daughter’s imagined hair loss. Of course, she took it all in stride and none of that got her down.

As Catie’s treatments ended, she was weaker than ever and the cancer more severe. It was growing in her lungs and had spread to her hips and legs, causing severe pain. Although her spirit was strong, her body was giving out and she sensed the end was near. She wrote her final journal entry a week before she passed away.

She wrote: “My body has decided to take a bit of a turn for the worse over the past week. Again, we turn to the Lord and look to him for support and help. I also turn to my family and look to them for support and help…. I feel a little weaker each day, and I’m not so sure what to do about it.” She finished that entry by again expressing her love for her family and the Lord.

Nearing the end, however, I never sensed any fear in her—only sadness and regret that she would not be able to watch her children grow and that they might not remember her. But she combated these feelings with humor. After one difficult night that last week, Catie admitted the next day she thought God was going to take her that night and wondered why He didn’t. “I guess someone cut in line,” was her best explanation for still being here.

Catie spent her final days concerned about others. She wrote down pages of ideas, from practical to profound, that will help me raise the kids. She also repeatedly expressed thanks for her parents and family and all who had helped take care of her. Beyond her family, Catie expressed regret that her weakened condition prevented her from reaching out to others as much as she would have liked.

In closing, though our loss is great, we believe it is temporary—that we will see Catie again in the next life. And in the meantime, she is not entirely gone from our presence because we will continue to see her influence though the marks she has left on each of us. As I’ve read through some of the notes, emails, and blog comments directed toward Catie, I can see her optimism, her smile, her faith, and her love for family and others have touched many and will be remembered long after she is gone.

Catie has also left a part of her behind in her children. I am excited to watch them grow and see how Catie’s early influence remains with them and helps shape their lives. In Mary and Sarah I see Catie’s countenance and her spunk. David has learned from Catie the importance of making good choices. When David said his final good-bye to Catie after her death, he whispered to her that he loved her and that he would always try to be good. I later asked him what prompted him to say that, and he responded, “that’s what mommy would have wanted me to do.”

I’ve been trying to think about how Catie would want us to feel today, and I am reminded of faith, hope, and love. I believe she would want us to have faith in God that drives us to be better people, to have hope for good things to come and to live happily, and to have love for our families, friends, and others.

I’ll finish with a poem written by Catie three months ago, entitled “A Mother with Cancer.”

Sometimes I wonder why
Other times I wonder how
Most of the time I just wonder.

Sometimes I cry
Other times I laugh
Most of the time I am

Sometimes I sleep
Other times I have energy
Most of the time I rest.

Sometimes I go
Other times I stay
Most of the time I’m careful.

Sometimes I wish
Other times I hope
Most of the time I pray.

Sometimes I watch
Other times I listen
Most of the time I am there.

Always, I love.


And we love Catie too….