Frank Edward Waslaski, Jr.

Eight years ago this month one of my brothers (the third-born in our family) died from Pancreatic Cancer. I knew very little about this disease until I got the awful phone call of his diagnosis. At first I thought my sister was being too negative when she said he would probably not be here for Thanksgiving that year, he was diagnosed on October 9th. But as he rapidly declined I knew she was right. She says it can be hard to be a nurse sometimes, because she usually knows the worst-case scenario.

So, let me tell you about Frank. We called him Little Frank, and Dad was Big Frank, even though he was much larger than our Dad. There are five kids in my family - my two oldest brothers Richard and Robert, then Frank, next comes my sister Mary, and I am the baby of the family. I've often thought since Frank's death that our family lost its mediator, the bridge to everyone else. He was close to all of us, and I suppose some of that came from being the middle child. I really don't know if there was anyone who didn't love Frank, he was the kind of man I like to classify as a cross between a hell's angel biker dude and a marshmallow-teddy bear.

The last couple years of his life Frank lived just ten minutes from me, and we talked on the phone almost every day. He'd call me up and ask, "What are you doing?" and I'd tell him, then he'd say, "Okay, goodbye!" and we'd laugh. He often brought his laundry over for me to wash, I still have the laundry bag he used. It was usually only two or three loads but it was most of the clothing he owned. He was very generous towards me, once he even financed a trip I took with my oldest brother and Peaches when she was a baby. We travelled to South Dakota to a family reunion and Frank paid for the gas and food. We stopped at all these little cafes along the way and had such a pleasant time together.

One time in high school, when someone had broken my heart, he threatened to do them bodily harm. I knew he would probably do it, so I didn't actually "sic" him on that person -but just knowing I had his love and protection and concern helped me through that difficult time.

I never thought I would see my big, strong brother become as weak as he did, but the cancer spread so quickly it was almost as though it was eating him alive. He fought back until the very end. He had just turned 42. I still miss him very much.

Dad had died two years before Frank, and Frank's death was much harder on Mom than Dad's had been. Frankie took a piece of her with him when he died and she was never quite the same. I suppose it is that way with all mothers when they lose a child. I was thankful Dad did not have to watch his son suffer so much. I don't think Dad would have handled it well.

A day or so before he died I was spending time in his room, he was past the point of talking much but did respond to take pain medication and to voices. We knew the end was near. I reminded him that God's word makes it very clear that we can only have eternal life through His Son, Jesus Christ. I quoted a couple of my favorite verses, Ephesians 2:8&9 - "For by grace are ye saved through faith, and that not of yourselves. It is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast." I prayed with him and encouraged him to make sure that he was ready to meet the Saviour. I'm trusting God that one day I will get to see the ones I love and miss so much who have gone before me. What a family reunion that will be!!