Living through the loss
By Scotty Schenck and Chris Deister
SNN Staff Writers
'Don't give up'
Sophomore John Douglas “J.D.” Willett lost his mother Christine “Chrissy” Willett on Nov. 28, 2011. She had a cancerous tumor in her esophagus, which was diagnosed about a year ago. After a year of chemotherapy, doctors realized she was not getting any better. The cancer spread to her lungs and cut off her breathing.
The doctors could not perform the necessary surgery because she had scoliosis and sleep apnea. She spent 25 days in the hospital from Oct. 7 to Nov. 1, until she was put under Hospice care at her home. At first Christine Willett hoped for the best, not knowing how severe the cancer would become. J.D. believed she would get better. However, after he knew she was terminal, his mother started thinking about the things she would miss in his life, and they started spending as much time together as possible.
On their last night together, J.D. and his mother were watching television.
“A lot of I love you’s and don’t give up’s,” J.D. said about the conversations they had. The last words she ever spoke to him were “I love you, too.”
She was coughing a lot, so he called the nurse. J.D. went to the couch to sleep and eventually went to sleep in his own bed. At about 1 a.m. J.D. was awakened by his father to come down to see his mother.
“I was holding her hand when she passed and I saw the look on her face,” J.D. said. It was a look of great pain, but determination.
She would try to breathe deeply, but could not get the air. Even though he had tried to prepare, when his mother passed away, J.D. was in a state of shock. “At the time, you’re thinking, ‘She’s gone and I can’t bring her back,’ and it’s the worst feeling,” he said. J.D. learned a lot from his mother, especially her gift for kindness.
“(The) most important thing I’ve learned is dealing with loss,” said J.D. “That is kind of equaled with how you treat people.”
Immediately after his mother’s death, J.D.’s grades went down. “For now doing school work is tough,” said J.D.
‘See you Monday, hopefully’
Sophomore Leo Willett (no relation to John Douglas Willett) first heard that his mother was sick on Dec. 21, 2010. He was eavesdropping on his parents and heard them talking of a possibility of lung cancer and that she was going to have blood work done.
The blood work came back and his mother had to start chemotherapy immediately. In terms of health, January was steep, while February was smooth and she was actually getting better until March. She stopped having chemotherapy because humans can only take so much radiation. Leo never thought he would have to prepare himself for such a catastrophe, but he did.
“She started getting tired by the end of March,” said Leo, and then his father told him that they needed to take his mother to the hospital.
Then something no one would want to happen did, the worst. Unbeknownst to them, the cancer had spread to her legs, causing a tumor there as well. This was not the only place the cancer had spread.
“How long do you think your mother has to live?” the doctor asked Leo. Being an optimist, he thought at least a month, but the doctor said that she had just a week.
“She didn’t get worse, just tired and sleepy,” Leo said about his mother’s condition three days before her death in March
2011.
On Thursday Leo went to see his mother for the last time.
“I said stuff like, ‘I’ll never see you again’,” Leo said. “It was hard.” He was going to stay at his friend’s house for the weekend on Friday, and then his mother went into Hospice care.
The last words Leo said to her were “goodbye, see you Monday, hopefully.” Leo was at church with his friend and when he walked outside he saw his father standing with his uncle.
It was 6:19 p.m. And Leo remembers it well. That’s when he finally knew his mother had passed. “Sad as hell,” said Leo describing the moment. “My legs were made of lead.” Leo said this experience opened his eyes to the real world. A memorial service happened in a place for 50 people; however 200 people showed up. Leo said this made him feel good knowing that his mother was loved by so many. Leo said he will always rememberthe last time he saw his mother.
“Don’t have this change you negatively, have it help you,” she said.
‘It still hasn’t set in’
Senior Wit Cannon and junior Brooks Cannon’s father Hugh Cannon Jr. died on Dec. 13, 2008, of sudden heart failure. Wit was only 15. Wit was at the Tradewinds Resort with a friend from Indiana when he got the call. Brooks called, and Wit went home, assuming it was a joke. His father had a health screening beforehand, but it had revealed nothing.
“It honestly still hasn’t set in,” he said. Despite this, he says that moving everywhere and not seeing his father anymore were the most painful parts.
“I was only 15. I never thought, ‘What if my father died?’ ” Wit said. On the world, Wit’s perspective has changed. If Wit gets into a fight with his girlfriend, she might cry and he’ll get mad, comparing anything she complains about to not as bad as what happened to him.
Wit’s academic abilities have suffered the most because of this, he said.
“My dad could teach me anything,” said Wit. “(Now) I’m not willing to learn.” Wit hates when people feel sympathetic and believes that you have to laugh to get over things. “I make dead dad jokes,” he said. Still this has made him a more serious person “due to the fact of what can happen.”
“Tomorrow I might not be here,” he said.
‘One less person to love’
Senior Rhianna Willis says her mother, Cynthia Willis, was sick ever since she was young, but she never expected her to die on Jan. 14, 2004. As a child, Rhianna always saw her mom in and out of the hospital, and she remembers that she slept a lot.
“When she was home, she was fun and snappy,” said Rhianna. She later learned her mother was an alcoholic and she had a failing liver and kidneys.
“Just seeing her drinking is all I remember,” said Rhianna. “This is what you get used to.” Then she remembers being at the hospital all day. Social workers told her that her mother was going to die, and then a doctor came in and told the family that Rhianna’s mother had died. “When I heard, all I remember is saying, ‘Everything’s gonna change. Everything’s gonna change,’ ” she said.
Hours before, a social worker told Rhianna and her sisters to write a letter or draw a picture for their mother. However, she never got to show her the letter. “I went to school the next day, and I cried, and that’s it,” Rhianna said. Despite the situation, she always dealt with it positively. Rhianna has learned to accept this “by knowing that God makes everything happen for a reason.” Rhianna became an honors student and had to grow up and mature. From first through fourth grade she made C’s and D’s in school, and after the death of her mother she has always been an honors student.
“I’ve learned not to take life for granted,” Rhianna said. She also has decided to never drink or smoke because of theexample set by her mother.
“I had to grow up with one less person to love, or one less person to love me,” said Rhianna. “I always felt cheated, because I
never had the chance to take care of her.”
The psychology of loss
When students are dealing with a crisis, they are never alone. Lakewood has guidance counselors and even a psychologist to help them with the problems they are going through. Guidance counselor Danielle Johnson is the first defense when it comes to crises like these. When students are dealing with very sudden loss, she refers them to Hospice or the school psychologist. For every 10 students dealing with loss about half of them are severe.
School psychologist Heather Jakobiak is the one who generally handles short-term grief of students.
“We have more expertise in dealing with grief and loss,” said Jakobiak. She helps the students understand the phases of grief. But not all
students need this counseling as many are strong and show resiliency.
“That’s being able to bounce back when you’ve gone through tragedy,” said Jakobiak. The most important thing about Jakobiak is her availability. She is at Lakewood on Tuesday through Friday from 7 a.m. -2:30 p.m.