I walked into my office the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and there was an unusual message in the Froth and Bubble voice mails.  By the way, the week of Thanksgiving, The Froth and Bubble Foundation delivered 31 grocery cards to patients from eight clinics or hospitals. 31 is our weekly record. In addition to the grocery cards we deliver each week, we include a handwritten note of encouragement, support, or good thoughts and well wishes for each patient.

The call was from the sister of a gentleman who had recently passed.  He had received his four grocery cards in the month of October. She told me that she had found his cards when she was going through his belongings.  I told her that if there was any value on them, they should use the cards to make this loss easier. I am not going to ask for them to be returned. I didn’t really understand what she was saying. She explained they were not the grocery cards with a monetary value. He had kept the handwritten notes. I was taken back. The cards are written on simple Froth and Bubble note cards by hand. Sometimes, my writing is more legible than others.  And, yet, this gentleman had kept them for whatever reason. There must have been some value.

In November we were awarded a grant from The Holbrook Pyle Foundation to help cancer patients in need in and around Payson. As it happens, we have had patients who travel here to our various outlets who come from the Payson, Pine and Strawberry communities.

Losses come in many shapes and manners. On Thanksgiving Eve Sweet Pee crossed over the Rainbow Bridge. He was a great friend of mine with an indomitable spirit and will to live.  Sweet Pee was a 17-year-old Italian Greyhound.

Mostly blind, mostly deaf, mostly toothless. Every time I would walk past, he would follow me into the kitchen and I would give him a small piece of turkey. I don’t know if I trained him, or he trained me.

Onward and upward. For Christmas I want to hand out extra grocery cards and I am gathering a list of patients to help out from our sources.  I like the idea of Kevy’s Kristmas Kupboard. Kevy was another dear friend who taught me to spell Glioblastoma…which is never good. We will have to see how we do. I am hoping for a record!!!

I hope your holidays are nice, and calm, and peaceful, and full of all good things.