Wigged Out Ride Cancer Stories

 Don was born April 7, 1958, in Sacramento, CA, and lived life to the fullest for 65 years on this beautiful earth. He graduated from Casa Roble High School, CA, in 1976, where he played Football, Basketball, and Baseball and maintained good grades. His Mother Jackie, sister, Debbie, and brother, Cliff, supported and cheered him on in sports and in life. He loved and cherished them with all his heart.

Don traveled to visit with them most years, doting on nephew Matthew and niece Michelle on birthdays and holidays. He visited his dad and Rosie (dad’s wife) in Germany many times and made good memories with them, typically including golfing. Every year, Don would go stay with his best friend and his wife, Jerry & Michelle. Their friendship and home were a haven for Don. He always enjoyed his time with them. It’s incredible to witness such a strong friendship.

Don loved to laugh, have fun with friends, play sports as a youth, watch sports as an adult, ride his motorcycle, golf, and travel. He introduced me to motorcycles, a passion I enjoy to this day. He was a roofer for most of his life, starting on the roof and ending up in the office. Don used all sorts of tools during his career to get jobs done. They were a big part of the process: hammers, carpenter pencils, roofing shovels to digitizer, pens, and computers.

Well-known and respected in the roofing community, Don was involved with the Roofing Contractor Association of WA for over 35 years. Co-owner of Legends Roofing Company from its start in 2002, with business partners and friends Tim O’Brien and Glen Paine Jr.

Don felt a strong sense of responsibility to his business partners, employees, and customers to provide good service and have a place where people want to come to work each day while making a good living. Don was the type of person who would support others in their dreams, even if it meant losing them as a valued employee. He was a mentor to many.

I have always been a workaholic, but Don taught me how to live. Whether Ray & Theresa treated us to a concert at the Puyallup or attended the RCAW Gala with them, Marco, and his daughter. There was always dancing or singing at the end of those nights. Throughout the years, there was boating or biking with Don’s friends or music nights with my friends Denise, Kir, and Lisa. Don’s In-Laws and family loved him like he was their own son and always referred to him as a good man.

The most endearing thing about Don was his love for the Hallmark channel movies because they always have happy endings. I wasn’t a fan at first, but I grew to enjoy them. Weekend dates would include a Hallmark movie and popcorn.

Being the tool guy, he wasn’t afraid to use a walker, wheelchair, commode, or shower chair during his battle with cancer. Don wasn’t crazy about them but understood they were tools to help him navigate this new chapter.

The color on the cancer ribbon chart that represents my husband’s lung cancer is white. He didn't technically pass away from cancer; rather, it forced Don down the path to take his final breath from pneumonia. Then he was gone, and I have been mourning him ever since. I find that mourning really comes down to my memories of him, which bring on tears and panicked breaths, many times ending in a deep, painful, heavy feeling inside the pit of my stomach.

The pain pushes against me until I can’t breathe anymore, prompting me to gasp for air. It is an ugly thing. These moments are random throughout the day or night. It also brings a sort of temporary relief and opens a space within me to remember times with Don. I play his hearty voice inside my head or try to picture his face. Just a little glimpse or sound, sometimes it’s fleeting. I take what I can get.

Don is a good man. He is the best man I’ve ever known. I am SO blessed to have met this man who IS the love of my life. We loved and respected each other and loved to laugh together.

He passed away peacefully at Good Sam Hospital in Puyallup, WA on July 18, 2023, with his loving family by his side.

Like it says on the photo album your mom and sister made you:

You only live once…but if you work it right, once is enough.

Don, I am SO sad you are gone, but I know you would look me in the eyes and say, “Mimi, it is what it is” and tell me you love me.

I ride for you."

Michèle Courvoisier aka Mimi/Stitch

 Of Sea Glass, Mermaids, and Motorcycles 

 Jenny was born in February 1974 and passed away in June 2023.

Jenny was a Pisces, a daydreamer, and a creative problem solver. She had such a compassionate heart, and her friends became her family. Hawaii was her spirit home; she loved anything to do with water, and Jenny absolutely loved motorcycling.

She had a beautiful sea glass blue bike that she named Mermaid to match her lovely mermaid curls. But most of all, Jenny loved helping people. She owned a salon called Hula Moon Salon for many years before moving over to Horizon Air and becoming a customer gate agent. 

With a heart of gold -You were lucky if you had her as your friend.

While Jenny battled hard against a very rare cancer that started in her appendix — in the end, it was too strong. But Jenny had faith and she often said that, in the end, she would be the winner.  Being in The Father's arms and knowing so many loved her.

She will miss us all — just as we will miss her.

 I was only 25 years old when I was diagnosed with Cervical Cancer. It seemed so surreal to me to hear those words. When we found it, it was a relief to finally have answers after so many missed diagnoses and being told my pain was "all in my head".  

Once found, it was taken care of within four months. It was a bugger and I had to have three different types of treatments thrown at it to defeat it, but defeat it I did. It was the worry and the appointments that followed for years after that I feel more like I survived. The aftermath of follow-ups and being told I would never have children were worse on me than the diagnosis and treatments. I had to be scrapped every three months for 1.5 years. Then I was graduated to every six months, and eventually to every year. That has been the longer process for me and more of the worry stage for me. Being told I would never have children was gut wrenching. I sure showed them!  

Because mine was not a case that almost killed me like you hear in most stories, I had survivor's guilt - it's real.  "Why did I survive when others did not?  Why was their journey so much harder than mine." I felt like I should not try to take away from those who had stepped forward to tell their stories. Mine may have been "little" compared to most. But it was still a fight. One that I won. So yes, I AM a survivor!