Abigail Stearns Freeman, December 8, 1976 – June 1, 2014

We remember Abby as beautiful, inside and out. She lit up the room. She connected with you. She had high intelligence, high elegance, and high climbs. Most of all, she was loving and caring.

She was that way all her life. Her passion and joy as a friend, performer, wife, and mother never diminished. Over her last year, she fought her disease courageously, and suffered terribly. Through it all she continued her loving attention to those around her, with true grace.

Not that there weren’t times of intense fear. The type of aggressive, chemo resistant breast cancer she had is still rarely stoppable, particularly if not detected early, which tragically was the case, due to initial misdiagnosis as swelling from nursing. By the time she got a biopsy, her prognosis was extremely poor. Nevertheless she and the rest of us searched for a way forward, to maintain hope. She kept wishing, she said, for a happy ending to this story, wanting with all her heart, as all of us did, to beat this beast so she could continue to be there for Merlin, Owen and Julia. As each setback dimmed her prospects, she told us to “keep calm and carry on”, and ultimately wanted us to accept, as she did, that even though it wasn’t fair, her present journey would end not in the natural course, but prematurely. Bearing the unbearable, we are carrying on for our precious family, but with sorrow beyond words. We miss her.

Abby felt that prior to her cancer she had had a wonderful life—growing up in a warm family and caring community who supported her in pursuing her career dreams; a marriage of true love; a legacy of two beautiful, bright children; a record of reaching for and finding an outer edge of artistic adventure and accomplishment all over the world. She said she didn’t have a bucket list. She believed there would be something next for her, and whimsically said she would like to return as a dolphin because they are so sleek and strong, and play so joyfully and freely in the waves.

Near the end I asked her why she had chosen to be a theatrical performer. She said she loved the expressiveness of it, and the whole physical and mental process of creating a production with her teammates. She recalled that as a young teenager she would dance in her room for hours to Madonna’s music. And then she recalled the time she woke up one night terrified at finding thousands of tiny spiders on the ceiling, and that I had used a vacuum cleaner to get rid of them.

For each of us there will always be such heartwarming recollections of Abby in our lives. How deeply we loved her, and always will. When I told Abby that her light was shining, that her love, her goodness, and her spirit would carry on in all of us, she put her hand on my arm and added: “Forever”.

– Jack Freeman

Abby chose to start home hospice last week, and has been resting, snuggling with her children and Merlin, and staying as comfortable as possible with the help of wonderful nurses and the care of family and close friends. The cancer continues to spread, and in the last day or so she has begun sleeping more and speaking less. The time for long conversations and intense goodbyes is past, but when we have a few moments with her awake, we remind her of the love and care everyone has been sending, and give her hugs. The children and Elsa the puppy (now, to no one’s surprise, a permanent member of the family) keep the house lively and make it impossible for us to fall into despair. And the support of so many friends, colleagues, neighbors, and family members has been a balm to the soul.

– Cynthia Freeman

Abby is grinding through the chemo-boosted radiation with her usual toughness and aplomb, and in good spirits with the end of this treatment (two weeks left) now in sight. The next step will likely be immunotherapy of some kind, and our Dad has been coordinating a huge research effort to identify the best clinical trials, with the help of some family friends who are cancer docs and epidemiologists. We are so grateful for the village of support that has gathered around in this time of need!

The end of THREE WEEKS of school vacation is also in sight, which will give Abby and Merlin – not to mention every other grown-up with a kid in LAUSD – some much-needed time to rest and recover. We were so happy to spend the holidays quietly together as a family, and see friends and playmates as well. We also took the kids ice skating:

Yes, it was 75 and sunny at the time. Friends in the frozen north (south, east…ok, everywhere but California), try not to hate us…

We celebrated Abby’s birthday this past weekend with cake and playtime.

The little girls dressed her up in paper chains:

The boys helped by getting out every single toy in the house just in case anyone wanted to play with them:

And Papa Jack and Unka Dan braved the wilds of Chuck E Cheese on a rainy Saturday so the boys could play the slots, the girls could nap, and the rest of us could sit on the couch and sip tea. Merlin had to work but Josh fixed him a dinner care package of Chinese beef ribs, tofu and veggies, and various other yumminess.

A few weeks of relative normalcy have been great – especially with the latest round of treatment starting this week. Abby will be having radiation five days a week for seven weeks. Her medical team has also recommended weekly chemotherapy that will boost the radiation’s effects. This is of course a total bummer and we are all keeping our fingers crossed that the side effects will not be as bad as they were with the systemic chemo.

Huge thanks and shout-outs to the local families who have been dropping off delicious meals and the out-of-town friends who are sponsoring grocery gift cards and weekly housecleaning. All of you have made this difficult journey so much better with your practical generosity, thoughtful words, and love beaming across time and space!