My Rock

My Dad always called me “his rock”.  He died in 2009 of the awful disease we all know too well, cancer. Throughout his battle, I tried to live up to my name. I went to doctor appointments and sat in hospital waiting rooms and rode in ambulances and sat in ICU rooms waiting for the inevitable trying to maintain the label he had placed upon me when I was just a little girl. I was the one in the house who always had it together. I started doing my own laundry when I was eleven because I was convinced that my mom did not sort it correctly. “The Rock” always had it together, and never crumbled. When the news came that Dad had stage-four lung cancer, I knew I could not crumble. It was not in my job description. Instead, I poured myself into research and trying to find out the treatment options, the best doctors, the truths they weren’t telling us, and ultimately, just being there for the rest of my family while they crumbled. He fought. He endured a hard surgery removing a lobe of the lung followed by chemo and radiation. We were lucky to get almost a full year of remission. However, when the cancer returned, as they prepared us it would, it came back with a vengeance. It covered him. It was in his brain, the remainder of his lungs, his bones and a tumor just where his aorta met his heart. I’ll spare you the details, but the end was something no one should ever have to witness. But there I stood, “The Rock”, remaining hard. No crumbling for this girl, so I thought.  Losing Dad was the worst day of my life and I can remember every detail of that day.

As I think about how cancer has changed my family, and me and I think about all the families out there who have been affected by cancer in some way, aren’t we all survivors? No, Dad did not survive cancer, but I survived his cancer, and my mom did, and my sister did and my kids did. Sure, we didn’t have to endure the pain and agony that he went through as a patient, but there was a different and true pain and agony felt on my part having to watch one of the people that I loved the very most in the world have to experience such a terrible disease. And after the disease finally won the battle, I was left to experience the rest of the world and my life without him. I have had watch my children grow up without their grandfather; to watch my daughter who was so very close to him cry herself to sleep at night because she couldn’t understand why he had to die. There have been so many times that I have longed to hear his sound reason in the craziness of life. For all of these reasons I consider us SURVIVORS!!! I try to focus on how incredibly luck I was to have such a wonderful man to have for my Dad! I was lucky enough to get to experience most of my major life milestones with him. He was there for my high school graduation, he walked my down the aisle at my wedding, and he was there for the birth of both of my children. There are also so many of the small memories we created as a family that I will cherish forever. And, of course, I wish every day for just one more day, but I know one more day would never be enough. When I do work with Lili’s Legacy I do it in honor of my Dad. I know he is smiling down from heaven. I love you Dad!

Cancer is such an ugly word....

Cancer is such an ugly word.  I truly believe it should be a curse word, a word that is not suitable to use in public company.  The word itself brings to mind unbearable sadness and despair to most people.  It brings those to mind for me, but I am also reminded of a never ending bravery, a never failing faith, and a beautiful smile and voice. 

I’ve known numerous family members and friends who have suffered with cancer.  None of them ever gave up their fight, even when the battle was lost.  My great aunt, Doris Jo suffered from breast cancer, brain cancer, bone cancer, and liver cancer. She eventually succumbed to the disease but she never quit fighting.  My cousin Linda battled with non-Hodgkins lymphoma a few years ago.  She is Gran to thirteen grandchildren and she gave those kiddos the greatest example of how to be a fighter they will ever know.   She has been cancer free for two years now and her grandchildren and the rest of her family will agree that she never gave up until she kicked cancer’s butt.  My great aunt, He-He, also suffered from breast cancer.  She fought the battle and won and through it all never lost her sense of humor.  My great aunt Zoe lost her battle with breast cancer.  Cancer has hit my family on both sides.  We have lost great pillars of faith to it, but we’ve also won some battles. 

I mentioned that I have friends that have suffered as well.  At 31, a lot of my cancer experiences are with people who are older than me.  But not all.  I went to camp for seven of the best summers of my life.  For a whole month every summer I got to swim in the river, play games, sing songs at the table, and spend nights around a campfire on top of a hill making and sharing memories with some great friends.  One of those friends was a year younger than me.  She was always a leader at camp and eventually she became the program director (big wig in charge) many years later.  A few months ago, she was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.  Her friends immediately started a fundraising page on GiveForward.  She continues to fight back against cancer and is lucky enough to have a great group of friends and family to walk with her through this battle. 

My friend Paul suffered from bladder cancer.  Paul was a giant of a man with an unshakeable faith in God.  After his diagnosis, someone started a CaringBridge page and Paul and his wife Susan would post updates on that page.  I remember one journal entry, written around the time of his diagnosis.  Paul wrote “I know God is good so I trust that however this journey ends I will still believe that He is good and does whatever He pleases. I'd rather have God do whatever He wants for my life than for Him to do what I want because He knows what is best and it is all about Him anyway and not about me. From HIM, through HIM, and to HIM are all things.  To Him be the glory forever.”  Paul went into his fight knowing that God had a plan and that he would be ok regardless of the outcome. 

Finally, there was/is Lisa.  I’ve known Lisa my whole life.  For most of it, she was just my friend’s mom.  But eventually, she was my friend.  You couldn’t ask for a better friend.  She knew when to listen and let you vent, and she knew when to tell you to suck it up and get over it.  She began her battle in 2007 and kept fighting until the end.  Lisa never lost her faith in God, she never wavered in her hope for a cure.  She continued to work with the youth of the church and sing with the worship team.  A generation of young people were strengthened in their faith in Jesus through watching Lisa’s battle.

Last week at small group someone asked why miracles don’t happen anymore.  I commented that I believe miracles happen every day, we just don’t see them. We always prayed for the miracle of healing for Lisa.  That miracle didn’t happen with earthly healing.  We know that Lisa was healed in death.  But maybe that’s not the real miracle.  Maybe the real miracle was the strengthening of faith of so many by seeing Lisa’s unending faith.  Maybe the real miracle was that Lisa’s life and example impacted so many people that others, who never knew Lisa, will come to faith because of her impact on the life of someone else.  Maybe the real miracle is that because of Lisa’s love for her community and Jesus, other cancer patients in Lamar County will be helped during their battle.  We all wish Lisa was here with us today.  But maybe God’s plan is to use her memory to bring hope to others so that others don’t have to worry about the little things when they are fighting for their lives.

Erin Barbee

 Why...

I have admittedly procrastinated on this post, the why we started Lili's Legacy. The many reason are all so dear to my heart that they bring up more emotions than I care to sort through most days, but.... in light of recent events... its time.

Lili (pronounced Leelee) was my mother's, Lisa Regan Frazier, grandmother name. Although, it was more often pronounced Yiyi by my son. Yiyi's Yegacy just didn't have the same ring to it, so we stuck with Lili. 

On September 11, 2007 my mother was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer, by the time the cancer was found there were already metastases in several places in her bone. Life immediately changed. Cancer. Just the word itself brings up many emotions.  I had already lost my paternal grandmother to breast cancer at 17, in my world cancer meant no hope, no future. I was not ready to accept this fate for my mother, and luckily, she wasn't either. After her initial treatment of radiation didn't work as well as planned she started the first of many chemotherapy treatments. She had oral treatments, she had I.V. treatments, approved and experimental treatments. Overall, she was very lucky in terms of side effects, they were usually generally mild and didn't last long. She lost her hair quickly and it grew back in several different textures and colors. We learned what worked and what didn't in terms of cut and coloring (just FYI- DON'T dye hair when being treated with chemo...orange is not a good color on anyone). Life became about making it to the next scan and praying for "stable". Never had the word stable meant so much. Stable meant she was still winning, stable meant we had more time, more memories, more vacations, more laughs, and more singing.  

Eventually Dr. Prakash and his wonderful staff could do no more here in Paris, so she went to MD Anderson in Houston. There, Dr. Wheler was optimistic about treatment and started her on a clinical trial that Mom was on for over a year, longer than anyone else had been. By this time, the cancer was also in her lungs and soon after moved to her brain also. With each new setback Mom had a positive outlook, she knew she wasn't done fighting. She continued fighting and working, even making weekly trips to Houston for a couple of months. In November 2013 she started a new treatment that had her in hospital within seven days for renal failure. She left the hospital in Paris and went straight to MD Anderson for her monthly appointments. At MD Anderson they told us the words we'd been avoiding for 6 years...no more treatments. No matter how much you know its coming in your head, no matter how long you've had to prepare, these words are traumatizing. She was put in MDA's Supportive Care Unit (their fancy word for hospice). But, she wasn't done... a week later she left with our family for Colorado. Fighter, overcomer, amazing, stubborn... whatever you call her, she knew her God wasn't done with her. She continued to live her life with an oxygen tank (usually...go back to that stubborn) in tow. February 25th my brother found me at work and told me that Mom was acting strange the night before, she wasn't able to stay awake and seemed disoriented. After school I went to check on her and knew she wasn't o.k. She let me take her to the hospital ( which said a lot about how she felt). After a few days of disorientation, extreme fatigue, and no answers Dr. Singh agreed to do the scans she was scheduled for that week in Houston. Her brain was clear, a huge relief, but there was a mass on her heart. We didn't even know this was possible. In the midst of the pain I have to stand amazed that she fought and lived with this advanced disease for so long it began finding other, less common places, to hide.  At that point, Dr. Prakash sat down with us and told us the words we had been running from since that first day in his office, once again we heard  "no more treatment". This time we knew it was true.

 Mom left the hospital on March first and went to my grandparents house on hospice. Justin was set to get married on May 10th and in fear that Mom might not be there him & Katie had a small (& humorous) ceremony at my Grandfather's church, with Mom there with him. This proved to be a huge blessing, we lost Mom the following Sunday, March 16th. She left her Earthly home surrounded by her family and friends. We hated to let go, but we know she is cancer free and living the life we all long for. We had a great week the week before, she was up out of bed some, we laughed, and we got to say all the things we needed to.  She left this Earth singing her praises to God, just the way she would have wanted.

The past 3 1/2 months have been unbelievably hard. I miss my Mom, Gage misses his Lili, Michael misses his mentor and friend, Mimi & Papa miss their daughter, Justin & Shannon miss their sister, Drew misses his aunt, SERG miss their SERG sister, and there are so many more that I know miss her by the things they say and do. She left a great legacy for us all. Never give up, praise God in all you do (even if its not your plan), love all ( even when you don't want to, serve others (even when its dirty and you have no running water), sing loud (even if its bad), dance( even if you get laughed at), laugh (long and hard until you snort!) 


I will forever miss my mom, but in her service notes (remember that stubborn part) she left us a challenge to "get off our asses" and "do something!" Lili's Legacy is my way of just doing that. I hope to make an impact on at least one person through Lili's Legacy. 

One of the most imporant things I (as well as the other Lili's Legacy volunteers) learned from Mom was how to help those who want to fight and who want to have hope.  We all learned so much over the last six 1/2 years  and we want to use that knowledge to help others.  The community is overwhelmingly in support of this, too, the numbers prove it. 

So what does this mean?  We have formed a non profit association (yes the donation is a write off to a charitable entity).  Lili's Legacy has a mission -- and that is to bring hope to the lives of those overcoming their battle with cancer.  We'll be spending a portion of our funds each month on helping people with life needs (bills) and with well being needs (those things that improve the quality of life) .  We invite you to join us as we help others, whether it is by giving money, knowledge, time or in-kind donations, or whether it is by accepting our help.  We hope you will!

To the moon and back, Mama!


Regan Plata