One of God's Chosen Vessels: A Journey of Faith, Love and Loss

By Bill Mehr

One of God’s Chosen Vessels chronicles the last ten months of the life of Bill Mehr. From the diagnosis of lung cancer to the end of his extraordinary life, this book reflects Bill’s thoughts and emotions as he undergoes treatments, gains strength through the love and support from family and friends, and faces his own mortality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728315164

Bill Mehr

Bill Mehr was on this earth for 56 years. In that short period of time, he accomplished great things that touched the lives of so many, especially young people and those who are homeless. Truly, Bill’s light was doused too soon. But, the words and deeds of this vessel of God continue to shine in the minds, hearts and lives of all who knew him.

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ONE of GOD’S

CHOSEN VESSELS

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A Journey of Faith, Love and Loss

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

Copyright © 2019 Bill Mehr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  06/21/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-1517-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-1515-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-1516-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019907031

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. [Biblica]

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Thursday, June 25, 2009

If You Met Bill

Friday, June 26, 2009

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Melody of His Voice

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Plan B

Monday, July 6, 2009

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

July

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Monday, July 13, 2009

Baseball Glove

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Friday, July 17, 2009

What Tastes Sweet?

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Monday, July 20, 2009

Bill’s Treasured Object

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Will I Ever See Grief in the Rearview Mirror?

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Monday, July 27, 2009

Displaced

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Lost and Found

Friday, July 31, 2009

Sunday August 3, 2009

Looking at Life Through Different Lenses

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Thursday, August 6, 2009

If Only …

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

It Takes a Long Time

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Friday, August 14, 2009

Where Is Over It?

Monday, August 17, 2009

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

You Can Check Out Anytime You Want, But You Can Never Leave

Friday, August 21, 2009

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Life as a Temporary Event

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Staying Between the Lines (or Not)

Monday, September 7, 2009

September Song

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Sunday, September 20, 2009

September

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Home is a Reflection of Me

Friday, September 25, 2009

Bones

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Friday, October 2, 2009

I’ll never forget …

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

A Presence in the Absence

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Falling Leaves

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Deafening Silence

Friday, October 16, 2009

Monday, October 19, 2009

Empty Spaces

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Can We Find Meaning and Hope in a Broken Self?

Friday, October 23, 2009

Monday, October 26, 2009

As If the Clock Somehow Turned Back

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Friday, October 30, 2009

Five Minutes with Bill

Monday, November 2, 2009

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Gratitude

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

This Box

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Thanksgiving

Friday, November 27, 2009

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Continuing Bonds

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

December

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Hitting the Wall

Friday, December 11, 2009

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Christmas Cards

Friday, December 18, 2009

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The Eve of Christmas Eve

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Saturday, January 2, 2010

I Wish I Had …

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Sunday, January 17, 2010

In the Depth of Winter, I finally Learned that Within Me Lay an Invincible Summer

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

I Miss Us

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

February

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I Thought I Would Go in A Different Direction

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

My Grief is Like …

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Monday, March 29, 2010

If Today Was My Last Day

Wednesday, April 7, 2010    A Posting from Connie

Standing at the Edge of the Cliff

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Monday, April 12, 2010    A Posting from Connie

My Last Words

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Wednesday, April 21, 2010    A Posting from Connie

Friday, April 23, 2010    A Posting from Connie

Saturday, April 24, 2010    A Posting from Connie

Monday, April 26, 2010    A Posting from Connie

Sunday, May 2, 2010    A Posting from Connie

The First Year

Connie’s Story

Epilogue

This book is dedicate

d to

all the Unknown Sufferers

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Many, many thanks to Diane Hanson for putting this project in motion! So many of Bill’s friends urged him to publish his writings. I regret that it took so long, but I’m so happy that it has finally happened. Thanks to our family and friends who provided support, comfort and love to Bill and continue to provide to me.

And to my very special friend, Ann Esposito, who graciously accepted my request for a first, unbiased impression of the book.

Connie Mehr

PROLOGUE

My name is Connie Mehr. It is April 26, 2010, and I sit in a meeting room at the funeral home. My mom, sisters and good friend are with me. The funeral director is asking me questions, but my mind is hazy. In between sobs, I provide answers. When was your husband born? Where? What are his parents’ names? What did he enjoy doing? Soon, the director puts a piece of paper in front of me—my husband’s life summarized in one paragraph. Look this over and make any changes, the funeral director says. I read what will become my husband’s obituary. It is merely facts about my husband. I make a few changes.

A day or so later, the obituary appears in the paper. I read it and cry. It gave all the vital information of my husband, but nothing really about him. He read the obituaries in the paper every day and often commented on some of the wonderful and sometimes unique portrayals of those who died. I felt awful when I read his. Even if his obituary had filled the entire page in the newspaper, it still wouldn’t have captured his true self.

On June 25, 2009, we received the devastating news that my husband had Stage IV lung cancer. Incurable, but, according to the oncologist, controllable. At the time, we were living in Fredericksburg, Virginia. The hospital there has a cancer navigator who guides patients and their families through the process of having and treating cancer. Our navigator was an angel. She talked to us, not at us, about the cancer. During the initial meeting, we felt an immediate connection with her. She told us about a service that the hospital provides. It is a website called CaringBridge and was set up for patients to use to communicate with family and friends to keep them up-to-date on patients’ progress.

My husband utilized CaringBridge to journal his thoughts about having and fighting this horrible disease. What follows are his CaringBridge entries. Except for a few editorial comments that I felt were necessary (noted in italics), these are my husband’s own words. I did correct some spelling, but I didn’t worry about the punctuation errors. I think his message is more important than a misplaced semi-colon or overuse of commas. Anything that is not his words appears in italics. Names have been changed or are otherwise described.

I had two reasons for putting this book together.

First, I wanted everyone to know what kind of man my husband was. There were many facets of his life; the most important were his faith, compassion and intellect. His benevolence for those in need is well-known in Prince William County, Virginia, where he was instrumental in establishing a drop-in center for the area’s homeless which is now called the Bill Mehr Drop-in Center. But how many of the woodsies (as he called them because they live in the woods) now served by the Center know who he was?

The second reason is this: that his words will give comfort and peace to anyone who has received the type of devastating news we did. Some of what he writes are his feelings about having and fighting cancer. Other writings simply show that he could still function as he had before his illness and that he still maintained his humor. This greatly comforted his family and friends. The proof of that is in the CaringBridge guestbook entries from people who knew my husband. Some of those entries are referenced throughout the book. Unfortunately, I could not include those entries for legal reasons. But I still have them and know the love that was poured out for my husband (and me) during this difficult time. The title of this book comes from a statement made in one of those entries. It summarizes how many people felt about my husband and how his faith guided him.

Several months after my husband’s death, I was contacted by the Bereavement Department of our local hospital. The very nice lady told me about several grief support groups and invited me to check one out. I remember telling the lady that I was doing okay and I didn’t think I needed a support group. The fact was, I really didn’t want to sit around and listen to someone cry about losing their spouse of 50 years (my husband and I had been together for six years; married for three and a half). I just didn’t think I could handle that. She told me that they also had a writing support group where loved ones deal with their grief through writing. After some thought, I decided to give that group a try.

Each week during our meeting, we would do some extemporaneous writing, sharing if we wanted to. Then we would be assigned a topic to write on during the week. It was through these writings that I truly went through the grief process. At first, I could not read what I had written—it was just too painful. When I finally did decide to read my essays, it was usually between sobs. By the end of my journey with the group, I read with little or no tears.

My writings are intermingled among my husband’s words. I include these writings in the hope that someone may identify with what I went through and find some comfort for themselves. You will also get to know more about my husband and understand what I was thinking, feeling and hoping as I dealt with such a terrible loss. As you read them, keep in mind that they were written in 2010 and 2011.

The journey my husband and I had to take was a sad one. It was full of bumps and blows. But we had our love (and that of others) and faith as our traveling companions. We couldn’t ask for more than that.

So, without further ado, it is my honor to introduce you to one of God’s chosen vessels, my husband, Bill Mehr.

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Thursday, April 2, 2009

I may be the only person who gets hurt visiting the doctor. After a check-up, I fell down the steps and fractured a vertebra. When they x-rayed it, they saw something suspicious which turned out to be lung cancer.

That’s where this story begins.

TUESDAY, JUNE 23, 2009

Today I visited my navigator (who told me about creating this website, amongst many other good things), and my oncologist.

To update ya’ll, tomorrow, I undergo a PT-Scan, on Thursday an MRI, and on Friday morning a Pulmonary breathing test. All results should be in my oncologist’s hands by the time I visit on Friday afternoon.

At present, we know the carcinoma in my lower right lung is 3.5 centimeters by 3.5 cm (about an inch and a half in diameter), not the biggest but not the smallest it could be.

We also need to learn about any other ‘hot spots,’ including on the adrenal gland and in the liver which showed up on the CT-Scan as areas requiring further examination. They may be benign or simply, in the case of the liver, only a bundle of blood vessels. There may also be a need to biopsy these areas next week. If it’s determined the cancer is only located in the lower right lung, and it hasn’t spread elsewhere, then it can be swiftly removed through surgery. This would represent the best outcome at this time.

So, we’ll know more on Friday afternoon, and possibly even more by early next week. Connie was with me all the way today and only teared up once. I’m also real proud of her for taking the first steps to volunteer at the hospital. It’s nice when I go there for tests to see the good friends I’ve made in the short time I’ve worked there since retirement. It makes a real difference. When we were leaving, my boss, who also has cancer, gave us her meal cards so we could eat dinner before we left. She’s quite the inspiration.

I’m going to keep on volunteering at the hospital and working at Kenmore (George Washington’s sister’s house) before, during, and after tests, and between any other procedures we’ll face. I’m also sending my usual letters to the editor of the [local paper] fighting for truth, justice and the American way. And I just started a book today called The Canon which represents yet one more attempt to understand science after achieving D’s and F’s all through school. So we’re not only going to discuss cancer — we’re going to talk about everything, but, unlike the blog (www.thespotsyltuckian.blogspot.com), as many of you have pointed out, I’ll try not to confuse everyone as much!

[Explanation of Spotsyltuckian. We lived in Spotsylvania County, VA which, as perceived by Northern Virginians, is so far south that it’s almost to Kentucky. Hence, Bill called us Spotsyltuckians. He started a blog and named it The Spotsyltuckian. It covers a range of subjects and is worth reading. I will warn you, however. Bill was a very intelligent man and his blog postings are very deep and at times hard to understand.]

THURSDAY, JUNE 25, 2009

Hi All:

First of all, thanks for all the kind sweet notes in the guestbook. The best things to have in life are friends like ya’ll and a wife like Connie.

The results of the PT-Scan which we received from my doctor today weren’t all that we could’ve hoped they’d be.

It’s thought now that a better option than surgery is to move straight away to chemotherapy. So, tomorrow at 8 a.m. we’ll be at [the hospital] to sew a port into my shoulder. Then, next Tuesday afternoon, we’ll be going to the oncologist to discuss the kind of chemo treatments I’ll be receiving and when they’ll begin.

Lots of folks who don’t know me that well asked, when they heard it was lung cancer, whether or not I smoked (I don’t). I spoke about that with my navigator and she said that comes up quite often. Of course, smoking is awful but the cause of what I have is unknown — there’s likely something in my genetics which makes me prone to the disease whether I smoked or not so there’s no sense in making someone feel guilty about it even if they did. Now you see it didn’t take long for me to become an advocate for those who have cancer! But that shouldn’t come as any surprise to those of you that know me all too well.

The best news regarding the non-surgery option is that I won’t be waking up with a catheter like I did after the prostate surgery. Now that’s one miserable way to spend 8 days!

I’m determined to do at least one fun thing every day. Yesterday, Connie and I visited the new [grocery store] which is the biggest thing to hit Fredericksburg since the Civil War. ’Cept we had to sidestep all these old folks who were flinging their carts every which way like sharks in a frenzy diving for sales. Today, on the other hand, I went to the library which I realize most of you consider akin to waterboarding, but to me, it’s as thrilling as a day at the beach.

I did read about a lady there, a former psychology/Chinese philosophy major (I like her already) who’s opened up a new paint store. Apparently when she was riding her bike in Florida, she was sprayed by a low-flying mosquito control plane and almost died. So she came back to Virginia and invented an organic paint where you can sleep in the same room the night after you lay down your many coats. What does that have to do with anything? I have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine. I just thought it was cool.

I did read about Farah’s [Fawcett] passing today. Did you see her special? We did. The gal was a fighter. We shall do no less.

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If You Met Bill

Bill was a very quiet, shy, unassuming man. In a crowded room, you probably wouldn’t even know he was there. He most likely would be sitting in the corner hoping no one would come over to talk to him. One day I was talking to a person from my