Frank Henderson Medical Expenses
Donation protected
Frank Henderson's family needs support during this time. Please read the story below from Komo News and donate what you can to help support them in their time of need with medical expenses and any other expenses that come up.
SHORELINE, Wash. - Something extraordinary is spontaneously happening in one Shoreline neighborhood: They're starting Christmas early.
It's in honor of a man named Frank Henderson who has given to others enough gifts for a lifetime.
"It's been amazing! Absolutely amazing," said Frank walking carefully down his front porch wearing a giant permanent smile. "We're making moments. That's what we're doing."
Frank Henderson has about two weeks to live due to cancer -- probably of the gall bladder. Frank pats his large belly and jokes that his massive tumors look like "aliens" have invaded his belly as in a scene from a science fiction film.
Smiling in the face of death, the gregarious 60-year-old, who was driving a commercial truck just last week before his diagnosis, is surrounding himself with family and friends. And then - rather than retreat into a dark room to die - he wrote a bucket list.
On it? Celebrating his last Christmas, a little early.
"Drum roll!!" they all yelled from the street in front of their house, looking back waiting for someone to throw the switch to turn on a massive array of Christmas lights.
"OH!!! Perfect! It's beautiful," Henderson said as everyone hugged. "Good job everybody! Wow!"
When his family put up their decorations early, all his neighbors started putting up their decorations too in honor of Frank's love for lights.
"Thanks for doing that, Brad!" shouts Frank to a neighbor. "Trying to keep up, Frank!" Brad yells back. "Ha! Go right on by Thanksgiving. Straight to Christmas!" croons Frank, as he hobbles back inside.
Neighborhood kids even brought over snow they'd saved from last winter. "This is perfect, man!" said Frank, getting on the ground with the kids. "Wow!"
Also on that bucket list? Giving away his beautiful daughter in a symbolic ceremony for a future wedding long after Frank knows he'll be gone. They bought a white dress and the entire family did a walk through a local park bathed in a low, afternoon glow. It looked every bit like a garden wedding.
We asked Frank what is it about him that allows him to smile so?
"Oh, I know where I'm going. Not afraid to die," he said tearing up. "You know, you've got to live each day for the moment."
Moments like watching with his family and friends from his living recliner as his beloved Seahawks beat Denver.
"In the face of this horrible situation that we're facing, there's a lot of blessings," said his wife, Jan. "We feel very humbled. There aren't words." She begins to cry. "We feel very humbled."
Frank told us what it's like to know your time is at hand.
"It's kinda surreal," he explained in halting cadence as he labors to breathe. "We all sit around and hold each others' hands and cry. We hug each other, and we know it's going to happen. But if I was, I think, if I was mad, then that would change everybody's position. But God didn't do this to me, and He's not punishing me or anything. It's just a fact. And He wants people to be examples, of loving other people and then letting them share. Because people need to share."
Frank concedes that he knows his legacy of love and laughter and sharing has already been etched in his many children, and now their children. He videotaped a private message to each of them so he could tell them again how much he loves them. It's something he's told them many times, and will once more.
Story courtesy of Komo News:
http://www.komonews.com/news/local/Franks-Christmas-is-arriving-early-lasting-forever-276503011.html
SHORELINE, Wash. - Something extraordinary is spontaneously happening in one Shoreline neighborhood: They're starting Christmas early.
It's in honor of a man named Frank Henderson who has given to others enough gifts for a lifetime.
"It's been amazing! Absolutely amazing," said Frank walking carefully down his front porch wearing a giant permanent smile. "We're making moments. That's what we're doing."
Frank Henderson has about two weeks to live due to cancer -- probably of the gall bladder. Frank pats his large belly and jokes that his massive tumors look like "aliens" have invaded his belly as in a scene from a science fiction film.
Smiling in the face of death, the gregarious 60-year-old, who was driving a commercial truck just last week before his diagnosis, is surrounding himself with family and friends. And then - rather than retreat into a dark room to die - he wrote a bucket list.
On it? Celebrating his last Christmas, a little early.
"Drum roll!!" they all yelled from the street in front of their house, looking back waiting for someone to throw the switch to turn on a massive array of Christmas lights.
"OH!!! Perfect! It's beautiful," Henderson said as everyone hugged. "Good job everybody! Wow!"
When his family put up their decorations early, all his neighbors started putting up their decorations too in honor of Frank's love for lights.
"Thanks for doing that, Brad!" shouts Frank to a neighbor. "Trying to keep up, Frank!" Brad yells back. "Ha! Go right on by Thanksgiving. Straight to Christmas!" croons Frank, as he hobbles back inside.
Neighborhood kids even brought over snow they'd saved from last winter. "This is perfect, man!" said Frank, getting on the ground with the kids. "Wow!"
Also on that bucket list? Giving away his beautiful daughter in a symbolic ceremony for a future wedding long after Frank knows he'll be gone. They bought a white dress and the entire family did a walk through a local park bathed in a low, afternoon glow. It looked every bit like a garden wedding.
We asked Frank what is it about him that allows him to smile so?
"Oh, I know where I'm going. Not afraid to die," he said tearing up. "You know, you've got to live each day for the moment."
Moments like watching with his family and friends from his living recliner as his beloved Seahawks beat Denver.
"In the face of this horrible situation that we're facing, there's a lot of blessings," said his wife, Jan. "We feel very humbled. There aren't words." She begins to cry. "We feel very humbled."
Frank told us what it's like to know your time is at hand.
"It's kinda surreal," he explained in halting cadence as he labors to breathe. "We all sit around and hold each others' hands and cry. We hug each other, and we know it's going to happen. But if I was, I think, if I was mad, then that would change everybody's position. But God didn't do this to me, and He's not punishing me or anything. It's just a fact. And He wants people to be examples, of loving other people and then letting them share. Because people need to share."
Frank concedes that he knows his legacy of love and laughter and sharing has already been etched in his many children, and now their children. He videotaped a private message to each of them so he could tell them again how much he loves them. It's something he's told them many times, and will once more.
Story courtesy of Komo News:
http://www.komonews.com/news/local/Franks-Christmas-is-arriving-early-lasting-forever-276503011.html
Organizer
Justin Seahawks Smith
Organizer
Seattle, WA
