She was only 28 years old, married to the love of her life, David, a beautiful son,Samuel and a disease that took her away from us.
I first met Krisen and David through my good friends the Hemati’s. His arm was around her waist, her gaze fixated on his every move. The love they shared glowed, one could not ignore it’s presence in the room. It was only after seeing them several times and loving them more and more with each encounter that I learned Kristen had been diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after they were married in 2001. (There was no history of breast cancer in her family)
David reported on Monday,
Monday, June 06, 2005
Today
As many of you now know, we were told by the doctors at MDACC that there is no other treatments available. Anywhere. Not in the U.S., Europe or anywhere else.
The scans of the liver show that it is completely overrun with cancer. The last treatment didn’t even seem to slow the growth.
At first we thought she may have eight weeks left, but we’ve revised that based on the last two days. Her liver is beginning to completely shut down, and we now think there may only be days left.
Thank you for your continued love, understanding and most of all prayers during this very difficult time.
-DH
In Peace Kristin
www.kristenhartland.com
It all started with a simple email from a good friend of mine last week
Her:
I have a “Man Friend”, a rather recent one at that. He plays the cool card constantly and very well might I add. I however act on raw emotion and really have no internal locust of control when it comes to sharing that aspect. I have become a text message psycho. Especially when I’m drunk. Fun things like “I miss you”, “When can I see you”…..oh and my favorite “come play with me”. It’s almost like I’m trying to chase this guy away. All I can say is thank god for good friends and kindred spirits because they know exactly what to do. Yes, erase all traces of him from my phone. Now, I just sit here in total upheaval and Mindf*ck why he hasn’t called. This is not normal for me, very uncomfortable in this space. I guess I left my self-confidence in New Orleans…I coulda swore I packed it.
Me: You forgot to pack your confidence? I think we can pick some up in Harwin, they sell everything there. If I really like a guy he’ll never make it into my phone for that reason alone. Or when we are dating and things are on the skids I have to take him out of my phone b/c I WILL also text msg him as though I am trying to tell him there is a bomb in the building. It’s urgent I get a hold of him at this insane hour. It’s a wretched habit, but it sounds like you really like this guy.
Today: (after a weekend of playing the cool card)
Her: I’m taking my balls back. I don’t think I want to try and get to the optimum level of psycho today. Maybe tomorrow.
Me: What happened?
Her: It’s all in my head. I don’t understand…why doesn’t he just fall all over me. I got phone calls and text messages yesterday….but nothing last night. I know, I know….silly. We’re not talking about Johnny Depp here or even Johnny Knoxville. We’re talking about Mike…simple, sweet, grizzly bear frame, Mike. I need Meds. Maybe I am just approaching my fear of Intimacy and Commitment head on. Yeah…..that’s what this is…Therapy. Ok…Ok…I’m done, no more inadequate ramblings…..I’m taking my balls and I’m going home. Thanks for listening.
Me: To funny, is he coming tonight? Not all men are as deep as we want to believe they are. They do and see what is exactly in front of them. He was probably sitting on his recliner scratching his ass watching some dumb B rated movie and not thinking about anything. If you hadn’t taken the chance with him you would have always wondered. Further, if he was calling you back and coming over every night you would be crying, “I really like him - but I need my space” It is our fear of rejection that makes you want to grab your balls and run. That’s what we do best, we vacate the premisis at the first hint of uncertainty. When we begin to lace ourselves up preparing for the sprint men also feel rejected (their egos are more fragile than china dolls). You can juggle the balls - if nothing else we can play that dumb beer game in the pool with them again.
Her: I don’t think you could have said it any better. You’re right…this is better than the “ICK”. Now, I just have to work on my juggling. See you tonight….I don’t know if he’ll be there….not that I care anyway. 
She get’s the BIG FAT whateveh - about not caring
**Full permission was given to post this and names have been changed
