I just realized today that not everyone follows our Facebook page and I have yet to post an updated blog.  So I am so sorry that this may be coming late for some of you.

Kev passed away peacefully on Monday, and is now residing with Jesus.  It was a whirlwind week, and I so apologize for not posting the service details on the blog.  The funeral took place yesterday (February 15th).  It was a beautiful service, with both of Kev's brothers giving tributes to Kev and his legacy.  I am so blessed with such an awesome and totally supportive family.

I have received a request to post the letter I wrote that was read at Kev's funeral.  It was read by our awesome pastor, Kevin Baker, who walked this entire journey with us.  God bless him, and God bless you all.

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Dear Family and Friends,

I have had 18 months to prepare for this day in my mind.  Of course I had hope, but it was always there in the back of my mind, the possibility that Kev may pass away from this disease.  

So we took steps to prepare certain things, have certain discussions, and took every opportunity to serve each other, knowing, in the back of our minds that the worst may, indeed, happen.  

But when Kev passed away, the level of my grief shocked and surprised me.  I had believed that I was somewhat ready for this.   But in facing it head on now, I realize that grief is something you cannot be sheltered from.  There are no walls that can be built, no plans that can be made, no items that can be thrown away, that could’ve prepared me for losing my best friend, my confidante, and my children’s father.  

Our marriage wasn’t perfect.  We fought, sometimes a lot.  He frustrated me frequently, and I him.  But in many ways cancer healed our marriage.  Cancer stripped away our pride, our petty arguments, and I would like to always remember that we made something beautiful together through this.  We served each other and loved each other in a way that I felt in my spirit was God-honoring.  But this growth brought so much pain and suffering.  We took turns with selfishness, self-serving behavior, and resentment.  I sometimes hated what I had to do, and sometimes he resented me for what I had to do for him.  We both became very weary.   It was an experience of immense suffering and broken beauty.  

So now, here we all are, and my grief is so deep and real.  I see my and my children’s lives fast forwarded through the future without Kev, and feel nothing but pain and dread.  

Someone told me today that pain and grief are holy feelings.  They are feelings that God, himself, has experienced, and they are appropriate and okay.  Lamentations 3 tells us that though He brings grief, He will show compassion.  Because of the Lord’s great love, I am not consumed.  

The feeling that “I am in a pit,” has been resonating through my head.  I can think of no greater description for my feelings.  Today, I read this in Lamentations 3: 55-57:  ‘I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit.  You heard my plea:  “Do not close your ears to my cry for relief.”  You came near when I called you and you said, “Do not fear.”'

Even in this pit, the Lord is with me.  And he is with my children.  And he is with you.  

God Bless you, everyone.

Kristin

To my dear and faithful followers of this blog and our family's story:  Thank you for your support and love. We have received many blessings over this last week from you all--thank you.  And thank you for praying for Kev and our family.

Here is the chain of events that lead up to this point:
Kev was about half way through the Pomalidamide chemo regimen when we received a phone call that his bilirubin (liver enzyme) was elevated, and we needed to immediately stop the chemo.  All myeloma drugs use the liver in which to metabolize, so we were hoping that once we stopped it, his bilirubin would go down.  It did not.  Instead, it began to rise very quickly, making it suddenly a very serious issue.  At first we weren't sure why his liver was becoming sick, but a few tests was all it took to deduce that it was disease progression in the liver.
Within one week we transitioned from a treatment mode to a hospice mode.  Those transition days were devastating for the family as we tried to process that the cancer fight was now over and we now needed to proceed with an entirely different mindset.

Our oncologist felt that Kev had "weeks," but we really don't know how long....could me more, could be less.  Every day Kev becomes a little weaker and sleeps a little more.  The hospice doctor's first priority is to make Kev as comfortable as possible and, so far, Kev seems okay.

This is a very personal and intimate time for our family and we are coming together to support each other during this time.  It is a blessing that we have this time together to mourn and grieve while Kev is still here, and to be able to share with him what he means to us.  So many families lose loved ones with words left unsaid, and we are privileged to be able to have the time for this.

Due to Kev's condition and to respect his level of comfort, we are only having family visit at this time.  If anyone would like to share something with Kev, please leave it as a comment on this page, or, if you'd like it to remain private, please email it to me at kristinvanzanten@gmail.com, and I'll be sure to read it to him. Many of you have already done this, and you can rest assured that he has read/heard them all so far.

This time is all about Kev and making him as comfortable and peaceful as possible.  He has earned this.  He fought the fight like a warrior, and now he will receive his reward--an eternity in paradise with Jesus Christ.

The beautiful and mysterious sovereignty of God is not something to be understood.  Of course I ask God why.  How can I not?  It seems like such nonsense for my children to lose their father in this way, and at such a young age.
But we are told to write the words of God on our hearts (Heb 10:16) for times such as these when emotions cannot be trusted.  These words become our foundation, and strong foundations cannot be destroyed.  It will remain.....it will remain for something new to be built atop it.  Something beautiful that will glorify God.

I look ahead at my life without Kevin and I start to panic.  When I see a picture of Kev from "before" I feel an overwhelming pang of loss that I just cannot put words to.....it's like my insides are fracturing.

But when I look at him now, I feel so blessed to be able to care for him and serve him during this time. I pray for Jesus to give me the strength to serve Kev as He would: completely and selflessly. Although this is, at times, very difficult to do.

Death is a part of life, and we will all face it one day.  I feel blessed that it's not coming as a surprise and that we will have everything prepared according to Kev's wishes.  We won't have words left unsaid.  I'm not leading this into a cliche on purpose, but let my words mean to you what they will in this area......

Many would like to help.  Here are the most helpful ways right now:
Prayer, prayer, prayer
Gift cards to grocery stores or to-go type restaurants
Frozen ingredients for recipes that I can place in the crockpot when convenient.
**Please do not call before dropping something off--just knock and leave it on the front porch if no one comes...thank you :-)

I receive many texts and emails, I am reading them all, but may not respond.  Please know that I very much appreciate your love and support.  I'm not sure how often Kev is checking his phone, but if you want to be sure he gets something, send it to me as well.

God bless,
Kristin