April 6, 2023

Bo and Jeannie Kloman have been members of Galilee UMC for over thirty years. He was raised Catholic and she Methodist, and when a neighbor in their Forest Ridge neighborhood invited them to our church, they found their faith home here.

Back then, services were held in the original sanctuary. The Klomans taught Sunday school, including amongst their pupils their daughter Lauren (who got married this past October). They enjoyed the cameraderie at Galilee, the cook-outs, and the relationships.

“It was a small church, but not too small,” says Bo. “You could connect with people on a level that was genuine.”

Over the years, Galilee became a pillar in the Kloman’s life. It was a place of rest and community in their busy lives. Jeannie worked as a nurse and Bo worked at a family medical supply company and at businesses stretching from office supplies and work spaces to auto dealerships and a moving company. Bo loved to work and he was good at it, until he began to feel fatigued and underwent a battery of medical tests. He was actually in the ER with atrial fibrilation when a radiology tech spotted something unusual on a scan. That’s when, in the summer of 2021, Bo was diagnosed with colon cancer.

Bo walking his daughter Lauren down the aisle at her wedding last October.

“The first thing I would say to everyone is get screened,” says Bo. “A colonoscopy is, in the scheme of things, not a big deal. It is safe, painless, and can help prevent a lot of suffering. I had not had one.”

With this diagnosis, Bo found himself in a new routine that he never expected. Trips to the oncologist, visits to medical imaging labs, and ultimately to treatment sites for radiation and chemotherapy.

“The thing that I noticed about this process, which seemed almost like my new fulltime job, was that it was lonely. I don’t mean that the people who shared this journey with me weren’t helpful—they were awesome. There is a special place in heaven reserved for oncology nurses and the people who help you through this. And my wife, Jeannie, she’s a nurse, too, so it’s not like I went through all this blind or uncomforted.”

“But you do find yourself alone,” says Bo. “There are long walks down corridors, when you’re feeling weak. There are scans that you need, where you’re laying essentially alone for an hour or maybe two. I found myself not just being by myself but feeling very alone as I was treated for cancer. But that’s when my faith kicked in.”

“I remember one time in particular, sitting by myself in a waiting room with just a flimsy paper robe around me. I don’t know why, but gradually I began to feel very peaceful. There’s no reason I should feel good. There was nothing objectively “good” about what I was undergoing, but at just this time I felt that Jesus was holding my right hand and my mother, who died some years ago from cancer, was holding my left hand.”

“I just knew it.”

Lauren and her husband Cory with Bo and Jeannie at a Caps game.

Bo endured chemotherapy and several operations, and today he is doing so much better. The peaceful acceptance of loneliness and the presence of comfort are things that have stayed with Bo. 

“I can’t look at life the same way I used to,” he says. “I loved work, but work isn’t the end all or be all. I like material things, but a new truck or nice watch isn’t something I spend a lot of time thinking about. It’s people that I see as most important. I want to share with the people at our church how precious our time together is, and how rewarding our love for each other can be. I feel some who walked with me during my journey were sent by God to help me by being in a close relationship at a dramatic moment of time. How did they know to reach out to me? Some of them I didn’t think had my cell number, and yet they call at such an important, meaningful moment?”

“I want to thank those who were there for me, but most important I want to share the difference it made to me in how I view life and how I think about God.”

“I‘m glad I was strong before I got sick and I think of faith as a form of strength. On the worst roads, in the darkest moment, faith assures you there is someone holding your hand. Someone is there.”

“If you slow down, you can feel God in your life even in the “undramatic” times. And you can participate in that. The other day at the grocery store, I saw an older neighbor struggling with groceries and I asked the gentleman if I could help him out. He said yes.  A few months ago, I would have been in no position to help anyone, I just didn’t have the strength. But these days, I can. And so can you. Because we are alive, our faith can make us strong, and we can love one another. I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.”