"Isn't she beautiful?"
The story of breast cancer's impact on two families united by marriage
Above, Linda Funkhouser is shown with her son Brandon in a 1985 photo. Five years later, she was diagnosed with breast cancer, to which she succumbed ten years later.
October 28, 2020
Story by Susan Funkhouser / Posted by Sheila Harris
In recognition of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Purdy R-II Schools Public Relations Coordinator, Susan Funkhouser, shares the following story of how breast cancer affected the lives of her mother, mother-in-law, and their combined families. Susan’s husband, Brandon Funkhouser, is a sixth grade science and social studies teacher for the Purdy School District. The couple lives in Monett.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” I barely caught his emotion-choked whisper as I descended the basement stairs of my father-in-law’s house. Jack stood inches from an old, manual control television and VCR. The radiant face with the delicate cheekbones, piercing eyes and show-stopping smile, so full of life on the screen, beckoned him ever closer. The look on his face defined true and eternal love. It was neither the first nor the last moment I found myself filled with regret that I would never enjoy a relationship with my mother-in-law, Linda Funkhouser, but it was, perhaps, the most profound.
Linda was diagnosed with breast cancer when my husband, Brandon, was only six years old. She died when he was 16. In the decade between her diagnosis and death, Linda fought valiantly, enduring surgeries, chemotherapy and experimental treatments. She also lived a beautiful, although far too brief, life. She planned birthday parties, cooked dinners, sewed and stuffed Christmas stockings and created all the Mom Magic for my husband and his two younger brothers. She recorded herself reading her boys’ favorite storybooks so they could watch and listen to her when she was away from them, seeking treatment. She posed with her sons for both serious and silly photos, even as cancer treatments took her hair and left their mark on her body.
As Brandon grew older and Linda’s time grew shorter, she cocooned herself in layers of clothing and blankets and sat in the stands as he performed with his high school marching band. To the very end she refused to allow breast cancer to rob her of the joys of motherhood, of sweet life itself.
Although she lost her battle with the disease, Linda Funkhouser did not lose her life to breast cancer. She lived it to the full, and her sons carry on her legacy. Like Linda, who was both a mother and a teacher, all three Funkhouser guys dedicate their lives to children in various fashions. Brandon teaches sixth grade students with the same passion, commitment and love his mom offered to her preschool students.
Brandon’s middle brother, Collin, molds and shapes two children of his own with Linda-like grace and love. He also spent several years teaching undergraduate classes with his mom’s patience, wisdom and wit.
Aaron, the youngest, is a social worker. Every day he fights for the kids that do not know the fierce love and care of a parent like Linda, at least not until they meet Aaron.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” I agreed wholeheartedly with my father-in-law in the basement that day, and I agree with him still. I see Linda’s beauty every day in my husband’s gentle eyes. I feel her warmth in his smile, and when Brandon’s booming laughter fills the air, I hear Linda’s, as well. Through him I know her.
I experienced Linda’s legendary compassion when my own mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a few short months after Brandon and I got married and he refrained from reciting empty platitudes or offering trite spiritual fixes, opting instead to hold my hand in silence as I cried. He also brought Linda’s strength, determination and sense of humor to my mom’s post-surgical experience, lifting her spirits, pulling out her scrappy side and inspiring her to fight.
My mom won her battle with breast cancer. Because of Brandon and the time he lost with Linda, I better understand what a gift to me that victory is. As she finishes up the final days of her 83rd trip around the sun, ten spent as a breast cancer survivor, I try my best to seize and appreciate each golden hour with my mom. We laugh, love, reflect, and celebrate together. We take pictures, knowing that how we look matters far less than how we live.
Like most people, I sometimes struggle to stay present in each of those blessed moments, to avoid the pitfall of fretting over a future that may or may not come my way, but the sweetness of now is worth every effort. I learned that priceless lesson from the mother-in-law that I never met, yet love with all my heart.
Isn’t she beautiful?
Story by Susan Funkhouser / Posted by Sheila Harris
In recognition of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Purdy R-II Schools Public Relations Coordinator, Susan Funkhouser, shares the following story of how breast cancer affected the lives of her mother, mother-in-law, and their combined families. Susan’s husband, Brandon Funkhouser, is a sixth grade science and social studies teacher for the Purdy School District. The couple lives in Monett.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” I barely caught his emotion-choked whisper as I descended the basement stairs of my father-in-law’s house. Jack stood inches from an old, manual control television and VCR. The radiant face with the delicate cheekbones, piercing eyes and show-stopping smile, so full of life on the screen, beckoned him ever closer. The look on his face defined true and eternal love. It was neither the first nor the last moment I found myself filled with regret that I would never enjoy a relationship with my mother-in-law, Linda Funkhouser, but it was, perhaps, the most profound.
Linda was diagnosed with breast cancer when my husband, Brandon, was only six years old. She died when he was 16. In the decade between her diagnosis and death, Linda fought valiantly, enduring surgeries, chemotherapy and experimental treatments. She also lived a beautiful, although far too brief, life. She planned birthday parties, cooked dinners, sewed and stuffed Christmas stockings and created all the Mom Magic for my husband and his two younger brothers. She recorded herself reading her boys’ favorite storybooks so they could watch and listen to her when she was away from them, seeking treatment. She posed with her sons for both serious and silly photos, even as cancer treatments took her hair and left their mark on her body.
As Brandon grew older and Linda’s time grew shorter, she cocooned herself in layers of clothing and blankets and sat in the stands as he performed with his high school marching band. To the very end she refused to allow breast cancer to rob her of the joys of motherhood, of sweet life itself.
Although she lost her battle with the disease, Linda Funkhouser did not lose her life to breast cancer. She lived it to the full, and her sons carry on her legacy. Like Linda, who was both a mother and a teacher, all three Funkhouser guys dedicate their lives to children in various fashions. Brandon teaches sixth grade students with the same passion, commitment and love his mom offered to her preschool students.
Brandon’s middle brother, Collin, molds and shapes two children of his own with Linda-like grace and love. He also spent several years teaching undergraduate classes with his mom’s patience, wisdom and wit.
Aaron, the youngest, is a social worker. Every day he fights for the kids that do not know the fierce love and care of a parent like Linda, at least not until they meet Aaron.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” I agreed wholeheartedly with my father-in-law in the basement that day, and I agree with him still. I see Linda’s beauty every day in my husband’s gentle eyes. I feel her warmth in his smile, and when Brandon’s booming laughter fills the air, I hear Linda’s, as well. Through him I know her.
I experienced Linda’s legendary compassion when my own mom was diagnosed with breast cancer a few short months after Brandon and I got married and he refrained from reciting empty platitudes or offering trite spiritual fixes, opting instead to hold my hand in silence as I cried. He also brought Linda’s strength, determination and sense of humor to my mom’s post-surgical experience, lifting her spirits, pulling out her scrappy side and inspiring her to fight.
My mom won her battle with breast cancer. Because of Brandon and the time he lost with Linda, I better understand what a gift to me that victory is. As she finishes up the final days of her 83rd trip around the sun, ten spent as a breast cancer survivor, I try my best to seize and appreciate each golden hour with my mom. We laugh, love, reflect, and celebrate together. We take pictures, knowing that how we look matters far less than how we live.
Like most people, I sometimes struggle to stay present in each of those blessed moments, to avoid the pitfall of fretting over a future that may or may not come my way, but the sweetness of now is worth every effort. I learned that priceless lesson from the mother-in-law that I never met, yet love with all my heart.
Isn’t she beautiful?
Above, Susan Funkhouser (right) posed with her mother, Sue Henderson, on the day of her marriage to Brandon Funkhouser in 1990. Four months later, Henderson was diagnosed with breast cancer, which is now in remission.
Above, Susan and Brandon Funkhouser wear pink for their mothers, both victims of breast cancer.
