I “found” you in the summer of 2016 while looking for people talking/writing about anticipatory grief. My mom had suffered a devastating stroke, and though she was recovering her life (and mine) would never be quite the same as before. She regained the ability to speak but it was exhausting for her and at best she could just string together a short sentence, and all of the pronouns were reliably wrong. In the days just after her stroke my siblings and I discovered that our Dad had significant short term memory loss- a thing that had been expertly hidden from us by mom. Until she no longer could. By the time I found you my parents were in an assisted living facility and it was clear that I needed to let go/say goodbye to the people they had been, and embrace the people they were, for as long as I had them. Mortality was finally staring me in the face and I was not ok. Your podcast and book became like a lifeline for me then and I’ve been a regular listener ever since. I didn’t know that I would subsequently face my own scary diagnosis, a decision to step away from church and re-evaluate faith in general, and more lifey life. My mom has been gone now for 19 months and dad’s dementia is progressing. Grief looms large. But… and(?)… you still bring me moments of joy and realization I am not alone. Thank you thank you thank you for all that you do to help life not totally suck. Precarity is more bearable (less “scarity” 😆) because of you, Kate. Love love love to you. 😘
Oh Wendy, your precious story and your beautiful heart are dear to me. I ache as I read it, both for you and for me. I lost my mom. My dad is not doing well. I get the church pain. We are not alone. Our hearts are not alone. We are blessed by Kate and each other. And there is this wonderful writing group called AWR....❤️🙂
Yes. Thank you dear friend. How amazing that we found each other through AWR, and I remember knowing you were “my people” when I learned that you too love Kate’s work. 💕
I have never read your writing before, aside from sneaking peeks at you in the bookstore. I am so grateful for this "prequel" essay. Most of all, thank you for mentioning "Doctor Google." The good doc got insulted by my local optometrist. "You haven't been looking at Google, have you?" he accused. I found an ophthalmologist who thanked me for being interested in MY health. He commended me, then answered every question of mine.
“…who treat our questions like care.” That’s a KEY phrase. We’re asking doctors for details for a reason. Not to pretend we’re a Jeopardy contestant. And, I’m thinking most people remember the first time a teacher’s answer to us began with “Good question!”
I’ve never thought about Dr vs Google Dr before & the idea that a real Dr should look at it our searching as being interested/concerned with our own health. What a great perspective the new ophthalmologist has!
I love you writing and followed you for 3 years and quote your words often. I have m.e.cfs and then a host of other conditions that have jumped on board. I quote your words a lot. In hard moments I’ve sent your blessing to friends and read them to my soul. At a family gathering I held court and quoted you of the things not to say to a sick person. It was great coz we laughed about some, groaned about others and one of my giddy aunts said’ I’ll stop saying that now’ your words have helped me explain what I couldn’t to people with grace and humour.
Welcome! I found you while listening to Myra Shankar’s “A Slight Change of Plans” podcast. You showed up to tell your story at exactly the time I needed it, when I was trying to accept my own cancer diagnosis as well as manage some profound family crises that were threatening to break me irrecoverably.
Everything doesn’t need a reason, you said (or something similar)—sometimes bad shit happens to very good people, people who’ve done their best to live with integrity, purpose, and love. Sometime bad shit just . . . happens.
Your words helped me accept what was happening for me right in that moment, without trying to rationalize it or push it away or even just resort to clinging to hope for the future, hanging on until things got better. You helped me be present to what is. Which helped me accept it and stop struggling. Which, ironically, greatly reduced my suffering.
I’m still grateful for that, and I still try to practice presence and acceptance of what is every day. Thank you, Kate.
So much of this resonates, as I read this in the first lapping waves of discomfort from another medical treatment. I was 50, cruising down the highway of personal and professional contentment when my own wheels started to wobble. 15 years later, I am no longer a rector or an academic. I’m a jalopy, rusty and dilapidated, but still privileged to write and mentor, and always seeking inspiration and camaraderie. I’m glad that you are on Substack.
Thank you for being you and sharing your light and love with the world Kate. You have been a big part of my support system as I work as a mental health counselor, navigate health challenges, and stepped into the role as a part of the “sandwich generation” of caring for aging parents and raising a teenager. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you Kate. My pastor (and boss) gave me your book back in 2020 when my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. It helped me navigate my own feelings and affirmed so much of what was in my heart. She went to heaven on dec 9 2020, and i miss her every minute. But am so grateful for the gift of her life, her ongoing presence in my life, and for how her passing has brought the rest of my siblings closer. Life is terrible sometimes but sometimes at the same moments beautiful. And god is in it all.
Thank you for your beautiful witness to this absurd life we have. ❤️
"The Lives we Actually Have" waits bedside table, a literal life saver! Your voice and presence keeps me anchored. Always a light, and your humor? So amazing, transporting in all the best ways!
I had the honor and blessing of hearing you speak at the Duke Divinity Theology Medicine and Culture conference. We met afterward and you were so gracious. You write so eloquently and so honestly about the messy life we all lead.
I felt like someone finally understood the devastation that comes with a diagnosis and the fallout. I have shared your book (covered in post-it tabs for the "important parts") with friends, and they find themselves as well. In my work as a faith community nurse, your words often come to mind for those in crisis.
Thank you for sharing your story and your inspiration from God. Prayers, hugs, and love.
Your Everything Happens … and No Cure For Being Human Books are among those I recommend most often. I’m a former pastor turned mental and spiritual health writer, support group leader, and coach. And I’m also very grateful that you had the courage and strength to knock over the Joel Olsteen book display in the hospital gift shop (and disappointed that they restocked it).
I was considering writing a memoir to deliver my story on overcoming betrayal and experiencing emotional forgiveness and the lessons I learned. I went to local half-price books on a Saturday some months ago and picked out six from their memoir section I thought would fit my parameters: Christian, female, humorous, slightly snarky. I laid them on a table, there in the store and perused, reading covers, searching reviews on my phone, opening and reading a page or two before deciding on yours. It was absolutely the best choice I could’ve made as I too was transitioning out of charismatic echo-chambers, but hadn’t found a place to land. I loved it. My used copy is marked and dog-eared and actually in someone else’s hands as I had to share it. Looking forward to seeing you here.
Kate, so great to build community with you here! I love your use of language, your authentic ‘no mask, as it is,’ response to living in this world. I love your recognition that we often navigate two seemingly conflicting feelings at the one time. And your gallows humour and down to earth Canadian spirit brings light as I work through an elongated tough time. Thank you for being in the world.
I did find you at a everything happens year in my own life, I found my anger matched by your leveling of the “toxic” positivity culture and it went from there. Glad to see you here Kate.
I had just retired due to an injury and then found I had cancer , We had worked so hard to have this beautiful life and after the last two years of procedures and more cancer, all I want is time. I find your writing always a balm to my spirit.
"Losing the 'dream life', finding something truer." Kate, these words alone bring such grace! After 33 years of marriage and a very unexpected divorce, my "dream life" was lost in an instant. My "dream life" now is realized one moment at a time in the beautiful, terrible days that are true and blessed by your written companionship! Thank you, dear Kate!
I “found” you in the summer of 2016 while looking for people talking/writing about anticipatory grief. My mom had suffered a devastating stroke, and though she was recovering her life (and mine) would never be quite the same as before. She regained the ability to speak but it was exhausting for her and at best she could just string together a short sentence, and all of the pronouns were reliably wrong. In the days just after her stroke my siblings and I discovered that our Dad had significant short term memory loss- a thing that had been expertly hidden from us by mom. Until she no longer could. By the time I found you my parents were in an assisted living facility and it was clear that I needed to let go/say goodbye to the people they had been, and embrace the people they were, for as long as I had them. Mortality was finally staring me in the face and I was not ok. Your podcast and book became like a lifeline for me then and I’ve been a regular listener ever since. I didn’t know that I would subsequently face my own scary diagnosis, a decision to step away from church and re-evaluate faith in general, and more lifey life. My mom has been gone now for 19 months and dad’s dementia is progressing. Grief looms large. But… and(?)… you still bring me moments of joy and realization I am not alone. Thank you thank you thank you for all that you do to help life not totally suck. Precarity is more bearable (less “scarity” 😆) because of you, Kate. Love love love to you. 😘
Oh Wendy. What a long goodbye you’ve been carrying. Thank you for letting me be a tiny voice in the dark with you. 🩵
Kate, I love that you have blessed my friend, Wendy. My story is similar to hers. You give our hearts permission to fall limp and grieve. Thank you.
Oh Wendy, your precious story and your beautiful heart are dear to me. I ache as I read it, both for you and for me. I lost my mom. My dad is not doing well. I get the church pain. We are not alone. Our hearts are not alone. We are blessed by Kate and each other. And there is this wonderful writing group called AWR....❤️🙂
Yes. Thank you dear friend. How amazing that we found each other through AWR, and I remember knowing you were “my people” when I learned that you too love Kate’s work. 💕
I have never read your writing before, aside from sneaking peeks at you in the bookstore. I am so grateful for this "prequel" essay. Most of all, thank you for mentioning "Doctor Google." The good doc got insulted by my local optometrist. "You haven't been looking at Google, have you?" he accused. I found an ophthalmologist who thanked me for being interested in MY health. He commended me, then answered every question of mine.
Tom! Bless Doctor Google. And bless the doctors who treat our questions like care. I’m so glad you’re here!
“…who treat our questions like care.” That’s a KEY phrase. We’re asking doctors for details for a reason. Not to pretend we’re a Jeopardy contestant. And, I’m thinking most people remember the first time a teacher’s answer to us began with “Good question!”
I’ve never thought about Dr vs Google Dr before & the idea that a real Dr should look at it our searching as being interested/concerned with our own health. What a great perspective the new ophthalmologist has!
I love you writing and followed you for 3 years and quote your words often. I have m.e.cfs and then a host of other conditions that have jumped on board. I quote your words a lot. In hard moments I’ve sent your blessing to friends and read them to my soul. At a family gathering I held court and quoted you of the things not to say to a sick person. It was great coz we laughed about some, groaned about others and one of my giddy aunts said’ I’ll stop saying that now’ your words have helped me explain what I couldn’t to people with grace and humour.
Mamie! You quoting me to a room full of groaning relatives? Peak delight.
Mamie, I also have ME/CFS and a cascade of other conditions that followed. Hope you're having a "good" day, whatever that may be for you. 💜
Welcome! I found you while listening to Myra Shankar’s “A Slight Change of Plans” podcast. You showed up to tell your story at exactly the time I needed it, when I was trying to accept my own cancer diagnosis as well as manage some profound family crises that were threatening to break me irrecoverably.
Everything doesn’t need a reason, you said (or something similar)—sometimes bad shit happens to very good people, people who’ve done their best to live with integrity, purpose, and love. Sometime bad shit just . . . happens.
Your words helped me accept what was happening for me right in that moment, without trying to rationalize it or push it away or even just resort to clinging to hope for the future, hanging on until things got better. You helped me be present to what is. Which helped me accept it and stop struggling. Which, ironically, greatly reduced my suffering.
I’m still grateful for that, and I still try to practice presence and acceptance of what is every day. Thank you, Kate.
So much of this resonates, as I read this in the first lapping waves of discomfort from another medical treatment. I was 50, cruising down the highway of personal and professional contentment when my own wheels started to wobble. 15 years later, I am no longer a rector or an academic. I’m a jalopy, rusty and dilapidated, but still privileged to write and mentor, and always seeking inspiration and camaraderie. I’m glad that you are on Substack.
Thank you for being you and sharing your light and love with the world Kate. You have been a big part of my support system as I work as a mental health counselor, navigate health challenges, and stepped into the role as a part of the “sandwich generation” of caring for aging parents and raising a teenager. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you Kate. My pastor (and boss) gave me your book back in 2020 when my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. It helped me navigate my own feelings and affirmed so much of what was in my heart. She went to heaven on dec 9 2020, and i miss her every minute. But am so grateful for the gift of her life, her ongoing presence in my life, and for how her passing has brought the rest of my siblings closer. Life is terrible sometimes but sometimes at the same moments beautiful. And god is in it all.
Thank you for your beautiful witness to this absurd life we have. ❤️
Oh dear one. What a terrible, beautiful before and after. Thank you for sharing that grief and the grace that somehow still gathers.
"The Lives we Actually Have" waits bedside table, a literal life saver! Your voice and presence keeps me anchored. Always a light, and your humor? So amazing, transporting in all the best ways!
So happy to see you here! Hooray!
Dear Kate,
I had the honor and blessing of hearing you speak at the Duke Divinity Theology Medicine and Culture conference. We met afterward and you were so gracious. You write so eloquently and so honestly about the messy life we all lead.
I felt like someone finally understood the devastation that comes with a diagnosis and the fallout. I have shared your book (covered in post-it tabs for the "important parts") with friends, and they find themselves as well. In my work as a faith community nurse, your words often come to mind for those in crisis.
Thank you for sharing your story and your inspiration from God. Prayers, hugs, and love.
Your Everything Happens … and No Cure For Being Human Books are among those I recommend most often. I’m a former pastor turned mental and spiritual health writer, support group leader, and coach. And I’m also very grateful that you had the courage and strength to knock over the Joel Olsteen book display in the hospital gift shop (and disappointed that they restocked it).
I was considering writing a memoir to deliver my story on overcoming betrayal and experiencing emotional forgiveness and the lessons I learned. I went to local half-price books on a Saturday some months ago and picked out six from their memoir section I thought would fit my parameters: Christian, female, humorous, slightly snarky. I laid them on a table, there in the store and perused, reading covers, searching reviews on my phone, opening and reading a page or two before deciding on yours. It was absolutely the best choice I could’ve made as I too was transitioning out of charismatic echo-chambers, but hadn’t found a place to land. I loved it. My used copy is marked and dog-eared and actually in someone else’s hands as I had to share it. Looking forward to seeing you here.
Kate, so great to build community with you here! I love your use of language, your authentic ‘no mask, as it is,’ response to living in this world. I love your recognition that we often navigate two seemingly conflicting feelings at the one time. And your gallows humour and down to earth Canadian spirit brings light as I work through an elongated tough time. Thank you for being in the world.
I did find you at a everything happens year in my own life, I found my anger matched by your leveling of the “toxic” positivity culture and it went from there. Glad to see you here Kate.
I had just retired due to an injury and then found I had cancer , We had worked so hard to have this beautiful life and after the last two years of procedures and more cancer, all I want is time. I find your writing always a balm to my spirit.
"Losing the 'dream life', finding something truer." Kate, these words alone bring such grace! After 33 years of marriage and a very unexpected divorce, my "dream life" was lost in an instant. My "dream life" now is realized one moment at a time in the beautiful, terrible days that are true and blessed by your written companionship! Thank you, dear Kate!
Thank you.