PH: Framed!

"Framed" is the topic for this week's Photo Hunt.  I have so many framed photos and couldn't quite decide which to post.

Then I opened an e-mail from the editor of my hometown (Lexington, SC) newspaper -- and voila!  There was the picture to use.  Yes, I had to cheat just a bit and create a frame for it.

The editor, Jerry Bellune, wrote a column about my brother Rod, whose funeral was a week ago today.  Jerry's column is good but the photo and caption were absolutely priceless:

Rod Really Did Have a Photogenic Side

To read Jerry's column, click here.

To see other Photo Hunt participants' posts, click here.

To read other posts about Rod on this blog, just scroll on down.   

Celebration of Life

Thanks to all readers of this blog who have tolerated my several posts about brother Rod.  Writing has been therapeutic - and enjoyable.  The enjoyment has come as we've recalled good times with Rod and some of his funniest antics and escapades. 

The funeral was indeed a celebration of his life.  One of Rod's trademarks was a bright Hawaiian-style shirt.  Well, not one -- but many.  Mom said she counted 42 of those shirts in his closet.  He never wore anything other kind.

So, as part of the celebration of Rod's life, we wore shirts out of Rod's closet.

In Fellowship Hall at St. Peter's Lutheran Church after the funeral.

Pictures of Brother Rod -- A LONG Time Ago -- When He Was Cute!

So many wonderful remembrances of brother Rod have been pouring in.  Most of these pictures are from Christy, one of my sisters. 

Rod as Uncle Sam

Family Picture - Rod is in the back

Family Picture - With All Five Children

Rod with Baby Christy and Big Sister Sherry

Rod is on the right; he used to take tap dancing

Maybe Rod and Christy were ready for Halloween or maybe they were just playing "dress-up."

Remembering Rod

Ever since we learned Wednesday morning that it might be brother Rod’s last day here on earth, I think some of us have been moving like robots, going through motions, doing what we needed to do.

It’s around midnight now, and I can’t sleep. I’m tired. Very tired. But I still can’t sleep. So, I'm writing what I'm thinking - and posting without proofing.

It’s just hitting me that Rod is gone – forever. Some wonder what it’s going to be like on the political scene without him.

I wonder what it’s going to be like at Christmas, Thanksgiving, family gatherings and such. I wonder what it’s going to be like not having him to call, e-mail or text when I have a question. I wonder what it’s going to be like not having him making fun of me – good-naturedly, of course. (I think.)

Fun times, crazy times, tense times – all of these come to mind tonight. All kinds of random thoughts.

I think back about the two times when our family was on “Family Feud.”

I think back to the 1980’s when our parents had just moved back to South Carolina from Tennessee; Rod was chairman of the county Republican party and was trying to recruit candidates. Dad had to go out of town for something; Rod asked him to sign a blank form as a candidate before he left town, just in case Rod couldn’t find a candidate for some office. When Dad returned, he learned he was a candidate for the state Senate. Rod ran his campaign. They won.

I remember playing board games with family members. Rod was fun to play with – and also frustrating to play with. He knew too much, especially insignificant things.

I remember a “fuss” we had when I was driving in California (when we were out there taping “Family Feud”) and Rod had to go to the bathroom; he wanted to stop at a service station. Instead, I stopped at a hospital, insisting this was a clean place and better than a gas station. He protested, but finally went in. And he was gone forever, it seemed. Back and forth, we wondered if someone had caused a problem for him or if he was just being stubborn by not returning to the car promptly. (Use your imagination to figure out why he was gone a while.)

Rod and I didn’t always agree on candidates. There were times I didn’t want to know which campaigns he was running.

We didn’t always agree on the best approach in a campaign either. During one of my candidacies, he told me that if I wanted to have a shot at winning, I should just leave town so people wouldn’t get to know me.

I remember him describing an easy job one time.  Bear in mind, he was often controversial and colorful.  He said he had been retained by a candidate to "do nothing."  In other words, don't work for him, don't work against him.  Easy money, huh?

I remember some of the great campaign slogans he came up with - for me and for others.  He was a creative genius!

I remember when his favorite color was “geen.” He just couldn’t pronounce “green” and called everything “geen.”  (By the way, this was a long time ago; he eventually learned to pronounce "green.")

I remember when I won a spelling bee in school. He ran to Mom that night and told her my news first – and I was SO mad at him for not letting me tell my own good news.

I think back about delivering the eulogy at Dad’s funeral without breaking down. This was probably because Rod told me beforehand that I wasn’t going to be able to do it.

(photo "lifted" from Wolfe Reports blog)

I recall when he took me to the golf course to teach me how to play golf, ending the day by saying he'd never do that again.

I remember that, for a long time, he drove the junkiest van in the whole world.  Returning from a political meeting in the Charleston area late one night, he realized he couldn't see through the windshield clearly.  The windshield seemed dirty, maybe blocked with a multitude of papers, notes and books.  After a while, though, he realized a snake had taken up residence on his dashboard. 

I remember family Charades games and one particular time when we played a joke on Rod, giving him something embarrassing and almost impossible to act out – and with his own team members planning ahead NOT to guess the correct answer.  Can you picture him trying to act out "The Vagina Monologues" while his team members played ignorant?  It was hilarious!

I remember when Rod and Shawn (my other brother) made the trip from Columbia to Charleston by water, skiing behind a boat, emulating what our dad had done on a few occasions many years earlier.

Which reminds me of something else: when Mom was pregnant with the fourth child after a10-year-break of not having children, the three of us already in existence got to help pick names for the new baby. Rod wanted to name him Sidney after our dog. Rod’s choice didn’t win, but he called the new brother “Sidney” instead of Shawn for quite a while.

I remember him rounding up as many people as he could to go to bowl games in an old delivery truck, complete with printing press, ink and all sorts of stuff. As a game ended, they’d start the presses, printing bumper strips and signs with the final scores, and selling them to happy fans.

I remember him playing his guitar and singing, often entertaining crowds and never meeting a stranger.

I remember his laugh, especially when he got started laughing and couldn’t quit.

When I got the call Wednesday morning about his sudden and dramatic change, I was with my two-year-old grandson. No doubt, he could sense that something was wrong, and he looked at me quizzically. I told him, “My brother is sick.” Harrison said, “Go get him.” I told him I couldn’t because my brother was in the hospital. Again, he said, “Go get him.” I told Harrison that I couldn’t, that I thought my brother was going to live with Jesus. In a typical two-year-old style, he said, “Come sit ‘side me.” I did, and he rubbed my back.

Rod singing to Shawn's daughter, Kendall.

Rod would have liked that, because there was a side to Rod that I remember so well which many people never got to see. He was very sensitive and tender-hearted. Oh, yes, he fought hard in political races, but he had a heart of gold.

Our family will never be the same, but we’re a richer family for having had him in our midst.

                            December 22, 1953 - August 18, 2010

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Today I Lost My Brother

Today I lost a brother.

I hadn't planned to post about him tonight but, somehow, just needed to.  It's therapy of a sort.

Brother Rod, 56, was my Christmas present when I was four years old. At the age of 4, a baby brother isn’t exactly what a little girl has on her holiday wish list.

Over the years, Rod turned out to be a great present.

And he wasn’t just a gift for me.

Rod was a gift to many people. He ran winning campaigns for lots of candidates who probably wouldn’t have won without him

Rod met the big “C” with his first diagnosis many years ago; it was melanoma.

Two years ago, he had a cancerous brain tumor. He had surgery in August 2008; one hour after the brain surgery, he was on the cell phone doing business as usual. Rod quipped: “I can see the headlines now: ‘Shealy Survives Surgery; Dies of Boredom’.”

That surgery removed the tumor – totally – and he was fine.

At least for a while.

Some time during the summer of 2009, he learned that the cancer was in his lungs.

This year, we learned it was back in his brain.

Rod, with cancer eating at his brain and lungs, was still running political campaigns and trying to carry on as usual for the June 2010 primaries.

Just last weekend, he was in his office when he fell and broke his hip. He was scheduled for hip replacement surgery today but had massive bleeding in his brain this morning and was unresponsive.

Rod had maintained a very positive and upbeat attitude. Sometimes he said things like, “The folks at the hospital like me ‘cause everybody else is sick.”

I first ran for office in 1970; he helped me in that campaign and then ran every campaign of mine after that one. He ran my campaign for lieutenant governor in 1990; it’s was my first loss and I believe he took it harder than I did.

But, like with any loss or any setback, he bounced back quickly.

When I asked him several years ago if it was too late to throw my hat in the ring for a particular race, he replied, “Yep. By about 34 years.”

Whether it was politics, family, or anything else, Rod enjoyed life to the fullest. He had a dry wit, a keen sense of humor and a heart of gold. He loved to play the guitar and sing. He loved being creative.

Other than in the hospital bed, I can’t remember the last time I saw him without a bright floral Hawaiian shirt. That was one of his trademarks. In fact, he went to an inaugural ball; like others, he wore a tuxedo – but with the Hawaiian floral print bowtie and cummerbund, along with tennis shoes, I believe.

He adored his two grandchildren; they adored him as well and called him “Rod-Boy.”

Other than Mom, I’ve known him longer than anyone else, and I will miss him more than anyone can imagine.

What a valuable Christmas present he was!

To read his own views about life and death, click here:  http://blondesherry.blogspot.com/2010/08/ww-say-little-prayer-for-my-bro.html

Lowest Gas Prices -- Found!

With marriage two months ago came a new neighborhood.

A new neighborhood means a new grocery store, new gas station – well, you get the picture.

So, I went to the Internet to find one of the sites that identifies the lowest gas prices in various areas. I hoped to find the lowest prices near our house, near our church as well as on typical daily driving routes.

At the same time, I was toying with the idea of not purchasing BP gas as a protest about the oil spill mess and the mess-of-a-cleanup process.

I found the gas station closest to our house – but it had “BP” next to it, so I kept looking.

While looking, I told The Duppster that our closest gas station carried BP gas. He said he didn’t think so; he thought it was Shell. I responded that maybe it had changed because according to the updated site on the Internet, it was BP.

The next closest station also carried BP. Continuing my search, I found yet another that carried BP and still another. I wondered how in the world, with what that company was going through, it could have the lowest prices in all of these nearby places.

The next day, I avoided those stations and went elsewhere to fill up the car’s gas tank.

It wasn’t until several days later that it hit me: the “BP” on the web site stood for “best price.”

Duh!

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WW: Say a Little Prayer for My Bro'

Today (Wednesday) brother Rod is having brain surgery via the gamma knife for cancerous lesions. 

So, would you say a little prayer for him?

Below is something he wrote a few months ago for his weekly newspapers and which I shared previously, but I thought this might be a good time to share it once again:

It’s Me Again, Jesus!

Last week, careful readers will have noticed, Yours Truly skipped his weekly assignment of penning this little column, which is something I try to accomplish each Monday morning. (Careless readers may not have noticed, because the usual space was filled in with a “re-run” from months gone by… just like the TV networks do!)
It was the first time I missed my deadline in over three years. I do not have a good excuse.

I guess, if I was a “dream-up-excuses” sort of guy, I could come up [with] one. I was, after all, strapped down to an operating table, undergoing a bit of brain surgery.





But that’s really no excuse. I’ve undergone similar surgeries two other times in the last couple of years, and I managed to meet the deadline for my column both of those times!

So no excuses. I’ll try to do better in the future, although there admittedly may be some new challenges ahead.

Back in August of 2008, when I first underwent surgery to remove a malignant brain tumor, I promised to keep you posted of my progress, much as my friend Jerry Fowler had done during his illness a couple of years earlier. He shared his personal battle with cancer each week, and helped a lot of people along the way.

I guess I’m just not as disciplined as Jerry was, because, try as I might, I can’t seem to work my health picture into my column but once or twice a year. There have, however, been some recent developments, and I thought I’d share them with you.

I won’t try to give you all the background on the melanoma that I was first diagnosed with in 1983, or the recurrence in the summer of 2008 that briefly impacted my communication skills. I will instead refer you to this column, which is now posted online as a blog at www.rodshealy.com. (Just go back to August, 2008, and you can read all about it.)

When we last updated my condition here (last November), I mentioned that I had chosen the treatment route of “clinical trials”… still-experimental treatments which have not yet been approved by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).

Although the my first round of trials -- an experimental vaccine designed to boost my immune system -- officially showed no response, there is some evidence that a partial response was achieved. In other words, some success, perhaps.

While searching for the next clinical trial, however, I was delayed by what appears to be multiple new recurrences of the melanoma in various areas: several spots in the lungs, where we already knew there was at least one large tumor; nine lesions in the brain, which were treated by gamma-knife last Monday at MUSC; and a number of brand new melanoma tumors in areas which do not appear to threaten any organs.

A biopsy of the large tumor in the lung, however, which had tested positive for cancer last June, suddenly came back negative, just a couple weeks ago. Hence, the possible partial success, perhaps.

As of now, I am scheduled to begin a new round of clinical trials next week. I’ll try to keep you posted better than I have been doing.

In the meantime, I am blessed to have no real side effects or disabilities, and am able to continue to work my normal schedule… with the obvious exception of last Monday, when I missed my deadline.

It’s also a good time for me to reflect a bit.

Given my several brushes with cancer, my odds of still being here are not good. In 1983, I was given a 35% chance of surviving five years. In 2008, my odds of making it through were described as maybe one in a thousand. And the couple of recurrences since then have been…well, let’s just say alarming to the technicians reading my scans. (You can always see it in their eyes!)

Still, here I am, starting on my next streak of writing a column every week for three years without missing a single one. I hope.

There are a few things I’ve learned through these experiences of the last two years.

First, none of the medical professionals and researchers can tell us what makes these cures and treatments work sometimes and not work other times. They’re striving to find out, but they just don’t know.

Secondly, a lot of really smart people – doctors, scientists, researchers – seem to think the “power of prayer” has a lot to do with it. I’m glad, because I think it has everything to do with it. When word of my diagnosis was revealed two years ago,

I was humbled by the number of prayer groups who helped me – friends and acquaintances, and total strangers alike. They prayed for me, and I assume that’s why I’m still here.

Although I’ve personally never stopped talking to Jesus about it, I do notice that our chats become a little more fervent and frequent each time I get a diagnosis with a new set of challenges. I’m praying as hard as I can, but I sure do appreciate those extra prayer-words from others (because yours might be the one that works!)

Thirdly, whatever my future holds is okay with me. It’s a great life, and I love this life, but I’ve certainly had my fair share of it -- probably more than my share -- so when my time comes, it comes. In my prayers, incidentally, I always address that exact point: I simply ask Jesus to use me as is His will. If that means going to Heaven sooner rather than later, then that’s what I’m ready for. After all, it’s not this life that really counts… it’s the next one. I believe. I am saved. And I am ready.

If I’m sounding a little more prayerful than usual in my column this week, I hope you’ll understand. Skipping my column last week gave me extra time to reflect on this week’s message… and I decided to talk to a larger audience this week.

Update:  Since surgery is today, maybe it's not really a little prayer that's needed.  How 'bout a BIG one?

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Wordless Wednesday participants are here.

Wordful Wednesday participants are here.