Words I spoke at the funeral

Dear all,

The following is my eulogy, which I read today at the funeral. The only hard part about writing it was that I had so many more memories I wanted to share. Dad was so good at making them. I hope it makes you laugh a bit, I think he would have :)

"I can’t begin to explain how much it means that you all are here. I just have a few things to say about the man my father was and the legacy he left, though that will never be fully played out because I am certain we will feel it in new ways every single day.

Many times, in reference to our game plan to kick my dad’s cancer in the butt, my mom would say "We are swinging for the fence!" (my mom is particularly fond of sports metaphors). And well, even though what we really wanted was a home run that would bring dad’s health back so he could stay with us, Heaven has gotta be beyond the fence. Somewhere wonderful beyond the fence. And we are so grateful to know we will see him again.        

In recalling stories about dad, there are a few themes that come up again and again. How much fun we had with him, how much we trusted him and how proud we were to be his daughters.

As Abby wrote, our dad was a competitive, fun-loving guy. He did not let that darn tumor get in his way. In a blog post a few months back, when I was home in July, I wrote “We are staying really positive, but we are also on edge, just waiting and watching and praying and hoping.  On the bright side, I played tennis with him a few days ago and although his motor skills have definitely been affected by the tumor, he still had some serves that aced me!”  That’s my strong, amazing dad for you.

         Dad loved being outside, working, playing golf or tennis or just enjoying. When I was younger, he built a beautiful patio behind our garage. I remember one summer night when I was in highschool, we decided to borrow a projector and dad rigged it up so that we could watch Star Wars on the back of the garage. We all sat out there in lawn chairs, with blankets and pillows and a fire burning in our cast iron fire pit.

         Abby also mentioned how adventurous dad was. This was particularly evident when we would ride our four-wheelers down at the farm. He taught me how to ride and then put me on my own four-wheeler and let me just follow him as we went up and down hills, around the lakes and through the tall grass, always stopping to point out deer or the shark fish if its fin was skimming the water as it so often did. Two summers ago, we were out riding on the runway, seeing how fast we could go and dad told me to stop in the middle and watch him. He went a ways down towards the lake and then turned around and came back, riding close to the edge of the runway. Only once I saw his four-wheeler dip down and then bounce up a little hill did I realize what he was showing me—he had figured out how to “get air”. And he just laughed and laughed and laughed. I was nowhere near as good as he was at first but we did it over and over. Heading towards the lake, turning around and starting in first gear, speeding up to about 5^th gear and then once we reached the little dip we’d scrunch down as close to the handlebars as we could so it would go just a bit higher in the air. And mom had no idea (which was smart on dad’s part)

When I was younger, we would travel back and forth to Donnellson, Des Moines, Logan and also on longer trips, specifically the one we took to New York. Dad would be in the driver seat of our big grey Astrovan, mom in the passenger and then Abby and I all sprawled out across the two middle seats, piled in with coloring books, snacks and blankets and pillows. I sleep in the car, all the time. But I remember when I was little I would be so tired, nearly unable to keep my eyes open. And for whatever reason I was convinced that when I closed my eyes, somehow dad’s eyes would close too. And I tried so hard to keep them open because I felt guilty that I was sleeping and he was driving. I would fight to keep them open, picturing him getting tired at the wheel. Despite my desperate attempts, I would inevitably fail and fall into an untroubled sleep, rocked into dreams by the gently moving car, that was faithfully steered by my father. And he always got us home safely. I’d wake up as we pulled into the driveway, surprised at how much time had passed while I was asleep. But never surprised that we made it. Because I trusted him. I trusted him to get us there. And he always did.

Some of you have heard this next part, so I’m sorry to be repeating it. I wrote it after being home at Easter.

“I've always known I was blessed to have Sam Clark as a father. His real name is Robert; that's what I always loved telling people because it was like having a secret. I know him better than you, I'd think in my head. I don't even know if the story I tell is accurate; I'm sure it's tainted by years of me revealing my little secret to people who met my dad. "Yeah. His name is really Robert, but one time when he was little, the neighbor came over and asked how the kids were doing. My grandma responded "Oh Donna and Mark are in the other room and baby Sam is napping." She just randomly said Sam, or so my story goes. And it just stuck. I think I change the story a little bit every time, but I enjoy it very much nonetheless.”

The past few days we have been watching home videos. The good old videos, playing on the nearly-ancient vcr. The kind that dad filmed with his giant video camera. A lot of the videos were of parties or holidays or other gatherings. But some of them were just dad and us. He would turn on the camera and just set it on the tripod or carry it along on his shoulder while we did normal, every day things:  playing hide and seek, eating hot dogs and jello, pulling tissues out of the box while mom wasn’t watching and him teaching us to talk. To most people, those things are mundane and less-than-extraordinary. But to dad they were opportunities to make memories. Who knew how much these would come to mean to us? Because to us, when we watch those, every moment is a chance to hear him laugh, talk or see his twinkling eyes.

I miss my father- his idiosyncrasies, his laugh, his wit, his thoughtful eyes and that facial gesture he made when something surprised him. We will all miss him very much. 

That man. He knew how to make memories. And he knew how to love. And I will forever be a better person because of how he raised me.

Thank you all so much for coming. I can’t express or even fully comprehend right now how much it means to us. Though the hole in our hearts can’t be filled, it’s nice to have such warmth to comfort the part of us that remains."

Hi everyone,
Just a quick note for anyone heading to Newton tonight or tomorrow for the services. I truly hadn't even thought about anyone from my school coming so I cannot tell you how much it means to me that some of you are. To know that your love exceeds the Knox campus is outstanding. If anyone does want to spend the night in Newton, between the visitation tonight and the funeral tomorrow, we have plenty of places for you to sleep. It's totally okay if no one does stay, I just wanted to extend the offer.

Here are some detailed directions in case they are needed.  I know you all have google maps and such but I figured I might as well throw these out anyway.

To my house: From interstate take 1st Newton exit, follow road to first avenue, turn left onto first ave. Follow 1st ave all the way past Hy-Vee, turn left on E. 8th St., go two blocks and turn right onto 4th ave. My house is 615, the one right past the park on the left. Come right up the driveway to the back door.

To the funeral home (visitation 5-7 pm tonight): A few blocks past the road to turn to my house, turn right on  E. 3rd street N. and the funeral home is right on the next corner. It's a light tan brick building.

To the church (funeral tomorrow 10:30 am):  From 1st ave, right on E 19th St., left on 4th Ave, but just for a short way, right on E 19th St, and St. Luke is on the left.

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. This is the hardest week of my life thus far, but having so many people to love us has provided comfort and strength. Please know how much we appreciate it.

Love, Rachel

I've always known I was blessed to have Sam Clark as a father. His real name is Robert; that's what I always loved telling people because it was like having a secret. I know him better than you, I'd think in my head. I don't even know if the story I tell is accurate; I'm sure it's tainted by years of me revealing my little secret to people who met my dad. "Yeah. His name is really Robert, but one time when he was little, the neighbor came over and asked how the boys were doing. My grandma responded "Oh Mark is napping, Steve is in the other room and Sam is playing." She just randomly said Sam, or so my story goes. And it just stuck. I think I change the story a little bit every time, but I enjoy it very much nonetheless.

Our family has always treasured our memories, and now more so than ever. The last few weeks have been difficult, as you may know. But the things that help the most are the memories we keep replaying and retelling; the love we continuously share: love that is felt through hand squeezes and eye contact; and the thoughts and prayers from all who care about us.

I was home for spring break and then again this past weekend for Easter. Things were very different both times and although it wasn't all totally unexpected, having heard regular updates from my mom and sister, it was still pretty shocking to see in person. My father is so strong, always has been. It is heart breaking to see that strength becoming dormant because the cancer has taken control over so much of his body. And yet he, through willpower and determination, would get himself around the house using the less-affected side of his body. Easter weekend, however, I went home to find a hospital bed in our living room and that is now dad's current habitat. I am so glad that he can at least be in our home, taken care of by my mom and comfortable for a majority of the time.
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I wrote the first part of this post at various times over this past week and I just couldn't bring myself to continue, finish or post it. It's hard to be here. As much as I love Knox, it is so hard to try and go on with life, even with all the good things that are in my life. I just plain care about them less. My heart is only so big. And right now especially it is full of my family.

I don't know what else to say except thank you. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers, and especially the memories you've shared with my mom, sister and I.  I absolutely adore hearing stories of my father. Hearing people recall the way he would just hoot and holler at something he found especially funny. The sweet little things he did that we didn't always know about. I'm going to post one of them below- it's an excerpt from a comment on my mom's caring bridge guestbook (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/samclark1). This message meant so incredibly much to me and made my heart overflow with love and pride for my father.


I remember a day, long ago (Rachel was a 9th grader) when Sam came to school to talk to me about a situation Rachel was having where an older boy was blocking her locker in an intimidating way (said boy could be a real jerk at times, so she was right to be intimidated) and he wanted me to be aware of what was happening and to make sure we did something to stop this harassment.  Although I knew all of you at that time, I did not know Sam really at all.  After talking with him, I remember I had two thoughts:  the first was that he loved his daughters with a fierceness and would make sure they were safe and protected. The second thought was how lucky you all were and how great gals like the three of you deserved a Mountain of a Father and Husband like Sam. Over the years, at many school events, I continued to see you as a family and those original thoughts were verified over and over again.


This message was from an administrator from my high school and I honestly did not know of this story. If any of you have others, I would love to hear them! Even if it's just a short email message or something (raclark@knox.edu) it would really brighten my day :)  
Hope this message finds you all well.  I think I'm off to bed for the night. 
Until next time.  Hej hej. 

A whirlwind of honesty...be prepared.

Dear friends, family, random stranger who has wandered onto my blog,

I have not written in a very, very long time. I think it is time to now because 1) I don't have to pull all-nighters of work thanks to spring break so I actually have time and 2) I feel like you guys need to know what is going on in my life. And if you (the reader) don't actually know me or you will be uncomfortable hearing personal details....jump off this ride now.

As you may or may not know, my father was diagnosed with brain cancer last February. At the time I was in Denmark and I remained there until May. Then I was home for about a week before I moved to Iowa City for a summer research internship. In August I returned to Knox for my senior year. I now have one term left before I (hopefully) graduate.

In the last year Dad has been "to the edge of the cliff" 5 different times. By that I mean he has been affected severely by the tumor and has had to be switched to different medications. Each time he has recovered some function, but it seems like he never gets quite back to where he was before.  Being away, this has all seemed very surreal to me.  But now I'm home for spring break. And it's real. And it's worse than I thought.

I wanted so badly to believe that it would just be a tough experience but soon Dad would be back to normal and we'd all be able to laugh about the crazy whirlwind that was 2011.  Unfortunately 2012 hasn't actually proven to be that much better. I didn't realize it but things were slipping downhill ever since I left for Knox in January. Though I hate to admit it, it's almost easy to dismiss what is going on when you are far away. And while Knox is a heck of a lot closer than Denmark, it didn't seem to matter all that much. I did get to see Mom and Dad while they were on their way out to North Carolina (to Duke) and back from NC when they stopped in Galesburg and took me out for real food. It's difficult to believe that dad was able to drive part of the way on that trip and now a walk around the block is a big accomplishment.

But he is determined. And he is strong. And so is my mother. They are stronger than I ever knew possible.

I'm watching tv right now. Jay Leno just said something funny and I realize it feels foreign to laugh. Not that I haven't laughed in awhile. On the contrary, some of the things dad says and the goofy faces he make just crack mom and I up. And one of our goals is to get a laugh out of him every single day. So far we've been successful. Because he laughs easily. And he understands life's small beauties. But he is also seeing more clearly just how crappy his situation is. And now it feels foreign to laugh because how can I laugh when my heart is breaking? And how can I laugh when I watch my father hold back tears? But he'd want me to. He'd want us to. Because he was always good at finding something to chuckle about.

No, this spring break was definitely not quite what I expected, although I admit I just didn't know at all what to expect.  There have been more tears, more fears, but also more reassurances that everything will indeed be okay, whatever that means.  I don't quite know yet how I am going to leave here and go back to Knox. I love Knox and think spring term is the bomb but I just don't know if I can do it since it means having to be away from my family, this family that I see more clearly now.

All I know for sure if that I will be calling my mother every day; that I want the reports, the good and the bad.  And that I can always use a hug from anyone who's willing to give them.

Thanks for reading.

-Rachel

Overdue ramblings

Hello, hello, hello!

I have been meaning to get this blog post written for probably a week and a half now. However, my poor mono-laden self has more than a little trouble actually getting things done these days.  Perhaps I should back up. Here we go...

I left my Newton home in a sad farewell the morning of Monday, Aug 22.  Though I was anxious to arrive at Knox and begin my senior year, things have been somewhat emotional with my family recently, so we all shed our tears as Abby and Kyle left the night before, and then again as I left that next morning. Abby headed back to  her apartment in Sully so she could settle in before beginning her second year of teaching in Montezuma the next day and Kyle went back to Central College to start his senior year there.  It was sad for us all to be dispersing from Newton, but I'm glad Abby and Kyle are close enough to see each other at least more than they were able to when she was in college at Wartburg.

Anyway, I drove the short 3 hours across Iowa and into Illinois in my rather full Explorer and then one trip at a time, I carried all of my stuff up to my beautiful apartment on the second floor of the nicest dorm building on campus.  I was the first of my roommates to move in so I got to take my sweet time rearranging the room I now share with my roommate and best Knox friend Emma.  Long story short I spent the whole afternoon organizing, arranging and generally falling in love with our apartment.

Tuesday was the first day of tennis practice and even though it was quite warm, I was so happy to be back out on the court.  We practiced hard Tues and Wed, and then Wednesday afternoon I came down with a fever.  I rested, sweated and froze with the fever for 2 days before the trainer sent me off campus to see the doctor. We hoped it was only my body being unable to maintain an appropriate temp after the hot weather...but it turned out to be mono.  I was slightly taken aback as I figured my exhaustion was just from the fever and mono was a little more of a long term inconvenience than I was expecting.  Here I was at Knox solely for tennis preseason and suddenly I was restricted from any type of physical activity for at least 2 weeks.  Not exactly the best way to start my senior season...but at the same time I was very relieved it had waited to hit until I had moved myself in and it was also a bit of a blessing that I had a week and a half to rest before classes start.

I went back to the doctor today and was given another 2 week restriction on running, jumping, pouncing...really anything strenuous.  But at least he did say I could stand in one place and hit balls if I really want to...which I do.  I will miss quite a few meets but I'll do my best to stay patient so at some point I can really get back on the court to play my game.  I have gotten a lot of lovin' from my friends here and friends and family back home. Thank you thank you for that! The cards bring lots of smiles to my face

On a completely different, and more important note, my father is improving!  My mom writes so eloquently in her caringbridge page for my dad that I know my update won't do it justice  so feel free to check out her writings if you haven't already! (http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/samclark1/journal )  Things were a little nerve-wracking at home when I was there before Knox because dad was definitely not himself and all we could do was wait for the trip out to Duke University.  He was sleeping a lot, talking little, and in quite a bit of pain.  It was so hard to see him suffering like that.  Thankfully the North Carolina trip can just in the nick of time and my mother was strong enough, mentally and physically, to get the two of them there safely.  On Thursday they had very hopeful appointments with the doctors at the Brain Tumor Center.  On Friday, Aug 26th, which was dad's 61st birthday, he got his first treatment.  They pumped him full of two specific types of drugs while he peacefully slept.  One of the drugs is supposed to cut off the tumor's vascular growth (which is how it survives) and the other is supposed to kill the cancerous cells.  He received the first treatment there, and then we will receive the same thing again in Iowa every two weeks until they are supposed to go back to Duke in mid-November.  After the treatment on Friday, mom and dad had to book it out of North Carolina due to the impending storm. They made it home late Friday night and were met by Abby and Kyle at the airport.  Although the meds did make dad a little sick, they seemed to kick in quickly! Mom has been talking about all his improvements and I sure wish I could see this as it is happening.  Seeing the rapid decline and then later incline in his abilities really makes me step back and contemplate the phenomenon that is the human brain. It is fragile and yet resilient. It is vulnerable, but also plastic (a word used to describe its ability to grow and change) and it can often recreate connections that may seem to be lost.  This close-to-home experience has given me all the more reason to be glad I have chosen neuroscience as my field. It is endlessly fascinating to me.

Well I think this might be a long enough (but hopefully not tooooo boring) post.  Sorry it wasn't more creative- this illness has made my brain a little mushy and dulled my ability to be clever.  Hope it isn't gone for good! Thanks so much to everyone who has been keeping my family in their thoughts and prayers.  We are taking it day by day and enjoying the sweet things in life!

Love to all.
Rachel

Saying goodbye is hard to do

So my internship is officially over. It has been over for almost a week now...I just haven't gotten around to writing about it.  Saying goodbye to all of the friends I made this summer was possibly the hardest set of goodbyes I have ever had to do (oh wait, just 3 months ago I had to leave Denmark...so I kind of take back that statement).  Nonetheless, this was really REALLY hard.  I can't believe I made such good friends in just 10 weeks.  I think it was because I was living, eating, breathing with these people during all the time that I was not in the lab (which actually wasn't that much during the last few weeks because I started staying later and later in lab to bear down as my project came to an end).  I have to say the whole summer was way more amazing than I would've expected...and I even learned a bunch too (which is important for this thing called college and this other thing called my future career).
Here's a run down of the important decisions I made this summer:
   To go to grad school (assuming I get accepted)
   To go to grad school for neuroscience (rather than for psychology or something fun like painting, which I can't do for the life of me so that was never actually an option)
   To go to grad school somewhere close (by close I mean the general midwest area...somewhere driveable...definitely not europe :(
 
All of those decisions result in these consequences:
   I have to take the GRE soon (sometime before sept 30)
   I'll be studying for the GRE during pre-season  (which starts in just 2 weeks!!)
   I'll be beginning applications for grad schools during fall term and hopefully will have them all done by mid November (yikes!!)
 
But in general, despite the scariness of the things to come, I am quite excited about this whole grad school process! I truly did enjoy my research experience this summer and I imagine grad school will have even more exciting and challenging opportunities.

Ok I need to stop sounding like a poster child for grad school.

My life right now consists of hanging out with my family as much as possible and then tomorrow I will leave for a 5-day vacation in Washington D.C. where I get to stay with Emma (my knox roomie!!) and see the Larsens, my host family from Denmark.  How fortunate! After I return, I'll have a little over a week left in Newton and then it's off to Knox for pre-season.  I think I need to get some tennis playing in there somewhere.

Also, if you are interested in updates on my dad (and haven't seen this website yet) you can visit an awesome site my mom made:  http://www.caringbridge.org/vi​sit/samclark1
His tumor has begun to grow back (after surgeries, radiation and chemo) so we are currently waiting for an appointment to be scheduled at Duke University for an extensive evaluation and then we are hoping he can be a part of whichever clinical trial they think is best.  As my mom says "We are swinging for the fence!" (my mom is particularly fond of sports metaphors)
We are staying really positive, but we are also on edge, just waiting and watching and praying and hoping.  On the bright side, I played tennis with him a few days ago and although his motor skills have definitely been affected by the tumor, he still had some serves that aced me!

Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers you have sent our way.  They mean a lot to us.

That's all for now! Take it easy and stay cool out there.  

P.S. If you want to see a short video I made with photos of the summer, check out this link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v​=B8a_F60IHt4

I survived my first official, somewhat-long research presentation. And thankfully, so did everyone in the audience.

Well friends, this has been quite a week.  My whole summer so far has been leading up to yesterday (Wednesday) and next Wednesday.  If you don't recall, I am interning in a Neuroscience lab at the University of Iowa this summer.  I have been working on a project focused on language acquisition and the possibilities and limitations of a specific process of mapping word-object associations, called fast mapping.  Every Wednesday and Friday we have "morning meetings" in Neurology.  Someone gives a presentation and then we have some time for discussion and questions.  They are always very interesting; there might be a presentation on a case study, a research project, or even just a research idea. I knew from early on that at some point I would have to present on the work that I have been doing.  That "some point" was yesterday morning.  This was kind of a big deal.  I realize it was a fairly informal setting, which about 20 people that I sort of know...but it was still 45-minute long of me presenting background on the topic that I was supposed to know like the back of my hand and presenting all the details of my experimental procedure, which I was supposed to know like the inside of my eyelids, and finally I got to present some data that we had just gotten the day before.  This might explain why my Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights were filled with late hours in the lab (except Sunday, when I was on my bed with literature piled around me instead of at my desk in the lab), a powerpoint that got prettier as each hour went on...and possibly some tears (not too many, but I will admit it was a little stressful.  And in my world, stress = tears or banging my head on the wall.  I almost always opt for the tears).

So finally, yesterday morning rolled around and while I was nervous, I actually felt very good about all the work I had done.  I only had dry mouth and sweaty palms...but it's not like I passed out of had an awkward voice crack. Oh wait, I did have an awkward voice crack.  Oh well.  I am pleased to announce that the talk went very well.  I felt confident, but I also had some help from my mentors in answering the tough questions.  Although I felt massive relief when it was finally over, I was also happy to realize that I had really enjoyed the process.  I know that may seem contradictory to earlier when I said this caused me to shed some tears...but even the fact that I went from a near-breakdown state to having a decent powerpoint and feeling confident only 24 hours later brings me a lot of pride and joy.  Assuming the whole grad school thing goes ok, I could see this 'stressful, but awesome' type of experience happening more in my life.  And I hope that it does.

As much as I enjoyed preparing for this talk I have to admit that one of the best things about the presentation was it being over.  I had to run a participant through my experiment yesterday morning and afternoon (which required the help of my good friend, Espresso) but after that I was home free...except that I didn't think I could make it all the way home on my bike because I was so tired, so I just rod over the Old Capitol Square and laid in the grass.  It was a nearly swelteringly hot day, but when I laid in the grass, in the shade, I could actually feel a soft, cool breeze around me and I was out about as soon as my head hit the pillow (a.k.a. an extra shirt I happened to have in my backpack.)  I laid there for about an hour before finally peeling my eyes open, realizing it was still July (felt as though I slept for years) and I continued downtown to search for a store to mindlessly wander around in.

I found the perfect one.  I don't remember what it was called, but it was something like Artisan's Art Shamanananalala.  Seriously, I don't remember its name, but it was awesome.  All the work is by individual artistis, some local, some from further away and there is jewelry, decorations, scarfs, woodworking, photographs, paintings, sketchings,  and even more.  The whole store was full of eye candy and I spent a good amount of time just perusing each display case.  I found at least 5 pairs of earrings that I "can't live without"  and a few necklaces that would be way too expensive for now, but extra awesome to have later...when I grow up and have a real job and all that stuff.

After my peaceful perusing of the lovely Art store, I headed to my hair cut appointment.  I have a problem where my hair grows to this awkward length and I begin to despise it.  That was happening at the beginning of this week.  I finally discovered the solution-- get it cut!  I went to this awesome place in Iowa City that I had just found by random google chance and it was nearby enough that I could ride there.  It was so cool! The shop is inside of this old, interesting house and most of the equipment was salvaged and repaired so the chairs don't match and the decorations are all a little bizarre...and I loved it.  They played great music and it just had a real welcoming feel.  The girl who did my hair was fantastic.  She took off so much weight (my hair is so thick you just always have to lighten it up by getting rid of a bunch and texturizing it) and she framed it very nicely around my face.  I felt like a whole new person when she finally got done blowdrying and straightening and I was able to look in the mirror.  Seriously, why do I ever let my hair get to that awkward length.  I like this so much more!  I'll post a pic if I'm able to...just so you don't feel left out from the excitement.

As for now, I better get off the computer and get to work!  As always, thanks for reading :)