Just as Paula shared her family’s situation with us in her post Jan. 27, I wanted to share some news. My father-in-law, Bob, was diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer seven months ago. Now, this is pretty devastating news, not just because of the diagnosis, but because he has had cancer four, count ‘em, four previous times, and survived. After bouts three and four we pronounced him too tough to die.

Bob and Dorothy, thankfully, have a terrific support system, and have been active in their local American Cancer Society chapter and cancer support group. What most impressed me upon hearing about this latest turn was the ease with which each has accepted the news. He/She/They are ready.

They have moved from their house of 30 + years into an apartment . No steps to climb, meals are provided, there is an exercise room, activities for residents, and a great sunny view from the nook where Bob’s recliner is perched. Their house, the one they built, went on the market March 1.

My husband has been going to visit his folks one weekend a month since October, primarily to pack them up, move them into a spiffy new place, and then get the house ready to sell. I’ve gone twice. His brother and sister-in-law have been down a number of times as well. When John was there this weekend, and most of the honey-do list was complete, he was able to sit down and talk to his dad about life.

In our hospice training we learn how to do life review, how to assess if a patient is open to it, how it will be recorded, and how to ask certain leading questions when asking about various stages of life.

John just turned on an MP3 player and started asking questions. We listened to the files when he came home and it is heartening to hear how energetic Bob sounds. We learned stories never before revealed, such as when his brothers joined the Air Force and the Army, why did he join the Navy? Answer: he didn’t like wearing ties. There were poignant revelations as well about growing up without a dad (Bob lost his dad, Harvey, when he was 12) and how Harvey’s boss made sure Bob, his mom, and siblings had a roof over their heads.

I asked my sweetie what this experience was like for him. “I was smiling the whole time,” he said, though he acknowledged that listening to the recording later was much harder than he thought it would be.

Whether it is through recorded interviews, video testimony, or written narrative, it is so important for families to capture this history. Photos will tell you what a person looks like, but testimony will tell you how they think and feel, and what they want and need; it is truly a lasting legacy.

Be well.