The Boy

He was the son I never wanted.

I started working with "The boy" when he was in the 5th grade. When you work with a student you never know if it is going to be a month, a semester or a school year. All together we spent 12 years together.

The first few months were pretty rough because he did not know much sign language.  I remember in December of that first year we were going bowling and for whatever reason he got on the bus and just cried.  I signed all the way to the bowling alley that we were going to have fun.  It would be great.  He did not understand me and he did not trust me.  But it was great and we did have fun.  He started to trust me. But was always embarrassed to sign or be signed to in front of anyone.

We spent all those years talking about everything.  Mainly, girls.  We talked about girls for hours!  He was obsessed with prom and weddings. If he saw the wedding announcements in the paper he insisted the bride was his...never mind the happy groom.  She must have been biding her time for him.

I gave him the sex talk and had to bite my tongue when it was all said and done and the first question he asked was if "Man Yike" and I ever did that.  I told him he had to wait until he was married.

Shortly after my Mom passed we had a discussion about heaven.  Would he be tall in heaven?  Would he need his wheelchair?  I had to hold my heart on those questions.  I could not hold the tears.

Once he hit high school he had job training and his favorite had to have been at St. Mary's.  All those college girls!  And always the question to them, " How old are you?", he did not care what their names were.

On one field trip we headed to St. Joseph, Michigan and he got to ride the Carousel.  For the rest of my days I will remember the pure joy on his face as we went around and around.  So many minutes with him were spent realizing happiness.

So many hours, in the lunch room, in the classroom, cooking macaroni and cheese, having him look at me and reading my face, dodge ball  and kickball in
gym, racing up the stairs to beat him on the elevator, and just being his interpreter.

Last year I told him I was his school mom and he quickly signed "YES!".

Today he graduated from his last school. It will be the last time I will be his teacher or school mom. 
I asked him if he would miss me...very discreetly I saw his hand sign...
"yes".

My First Friend

My first friend was my brother Dave. I do not know what his thoughts were when I arrived in his life. He was not even 2 years old.

Growing up we were friends because our options were pretty limited for social events. We had each other. He let me tag along when he played with the neighbor twins. Even now when I think about it I never questioned his love for me.

My most clear memories of him were the time he shot a roofing nail into his mouth with some toy gun.."Hey Janie, watch this!" and then the look on his face as he swallowed the nail. I do not remember if there was a trip to the ER but I will always remember his face and the panic he had.
The other memory was when we moved my Mom had to drive from Curtiss Street to Osceola School to take him to 1st Grade. Every day she drove down a road and said, "I should drive through those trees at the end of the road." and we would hang over the seats and shout our dares to her. Well, my Mom, being my Mom decided one day to call our bluff and eased the car between the pine trees. Backing out she realized she broke the antenna off the car. She was horrified. We would laugh about her reaction for years.

He was there for all the major events in my life. I remember him watching me play ball when my parents did not show up. Granted he was also watching the other girls on my team but it felt like he was there for me.
We swam for hours in the Seltenright's pool, coming out pruned and exhausted. Sleeping on the living room floor with fans blowing because we did not have air. Playing with Action Figures and cardboard boxes, monopoly, and card games. Hours were spent around the kitchen table watching his friends shoot a folded up triangle across the table.  Cowboys and Indians in the backyard, racing around at twilight with the lightning bugs.
The time the other twins down the street terrorized him with a practical joke and he wanted me to go see what he saw. The time he went to see "The Exorcist" and came home and made me look under my bed.
All the times we went camping and to our cousin's houses. The fist fights in the yard, the food fights in the kitchen. The vision of Mark's girlfriend riding Dave's back while beating him on the head with a frying pan. Classic Davis chaos. The early morning Christmas moments when we took turns asking our parents if we could open gifts now? (4:30 a.m. ha!) The dancing at the weddings. The wonderful Christmas where we all stayed at Mom and Dad's to watch "Ghostbusters" on HBO. The endless laughs on the deck with family.

On July 25 he had a horrible accident at work, falling and breaking his back. Right now they are saying he may never walk. This breaks my heart into a million pieces.
But I know I could have lost my brother on July 25th.  All my memories of him would just be memories. I would never get to have another cup of coffee with him. Or watch him throw his hat on the floor and laugh about another joke my Dad has told. Hear him talk about Jesus. Have someone to share my pain of losing my Mom with. He has been with me my whole life.

And even though my heart is broken into a million pieces it still beats in my chest and my brother Dave will always be in my heart around all those swirling pieces.

Love you Cowboy!

Just love you

Today I went to visit my dying friend.
As I was visiting, the door was knocked on and more people came in, bringing food and conversation.
I knew she would not be able to eat..I brought my bible.

I am not that Christian who lives this glowing life.  I get depressed, I get angry, I can hold a grudge and my patience could very well be the death of me. I curse, drink alcohol and sometimes fantasize about murder..and getting away with it. I am this messed up version of what God wills for me but He gave me this free will and sometimes I just have to go with it. Often I know I disappoint Him.  Often I do not realize the love He has for me.

But how many of us really recognize how much He loves us?  We go through the day, drinking our coffee and eating our lunch. We worry that we do not exercise enough or eat right. We worry about our jobs, our kids, our family, our cars, our friends...so much worry. We worry about how the world is.  

How much time do we spend really thinking about love?  How much we love? How much we are loved?  Especially when we are so un-lovable?  We are just muddling through our days, not realizing that love is what we were made for.  What we are commanded to do.

People came through the door today with food, conversation..and love.
My message to my friend? You are loved. You are valued. Having you in my life where so many things had to align for us to even meet was a gift from God.  You made me laugh more times than I can count and helped me through some really rough days. I just love you! I just love you.

There are people out there that need to know...
I just love you.

The verse I read to my friend today was Ephesians 4:14-19
Wide and long, high and deep.
My favorite reminder that God loves me like I cannot understand and gives me the gift of loving others the same way.  What an incredible thing, Grace.

Tough Times and Tu Tus

Last September I headed South to the funeral of my Aunt.
My Dad and I picked up my Uncle and it didn't take long to figure out there was something "off".
He said a few things that made no sense, argued with me over a petty thing. And I decided, as my mother's daughter, that I could help, I could fix this. I never had to deal with anyone with dementia. I really could not help or fix it at all.
I headed to the doctor with him. He was asked to draw a clock with a certain time. The clock was off and he was aware that it was off but could not fix it. He was upset that the doctor diagnosed him when hours earlier he knew "something" was wrong.  He was angry that he was told not to drive. He had drove a semi for years. The doctor was now a quack and the story of the visit was twisted many times over.
My younger brother and I decided he needed help with money, bills were not being paid and money was going in and out of the account, sometimes on the same day. He gave me power of attorney and then took me off. Put me back on the account and I had to start transferring money when large amounts were withdrawn and never re- deposited.
I set up Meals on Wheels and his neighbors called me to tell me the latest mis-adventure. I took him groceries. I lied and told him his stove was broke when I walked in and smelled gas. (He insisted he must have bumped the knob, he would not forget he turned it on.) We un-hooked the gas and brought him a hot plate.
He signed the title of his car and trailer over to a cousin who did not understand or care that my uncle was headed for Medicaid and you can't sign over anything for years before or you will be penalized. He needed to be in a nursing home but the nursing home would not take him, even with an emergency entrance because of the Medicaid waiver and the title mess.
I went to the courts to be Guardian because I could not get help. The small town he was in sent a Real Service rep and she asked him about showering and cooking. He told her he was fine. She said he didn't qualify for any services. Adult Protective Services was no help.
The local Social Security/Medicaid office told me to get him into my county. We found him an apartment for lower income older adults.  He could not figure out the elevator, he thought he was in jail. He would not/could not cook for himself. I was fighting a losing battle.
Trips to hospitals/doctors and no one could get him placed. Lawyers to get the titles back.
A lawyer had told me to rescind guardianship a few months earlier because I would not be able to get anything done. I would be chasing my tail. I had been doing just that for months. I talked to his daughter and she said she would take the guardianship over.
A few days before the court date he seemed to have a complete meltdown. His daughter said we needed to take him to a Fort Wayne hospital that had a geriatric ward.  I got him in the car and we met and drove him to the hospital. We just kept lying to him.  They admitted him.
It was less than 3 months later when he passed away in a nursing home. I could not fix it, I could not help it, I could not make it better
I spent just about one year dealing with this. God bless the caregivers who do it for years. I could not sleep, I was angry, I was tired, and I did not think I could cry that much in a life time. This was my Mom's brother and I wanted to do what she would have done.

I came out the other side but I was broken. I missed myself. I wanted to be fun again and laugh.. really laugh.  A few weeks later I told myself I needed to be happy again.
I was meeting friends for dinner and as an inside joke I put a tu tu on to meet them.  That tu tu was like a symbol to me.  I was making the choice to be happy again. All that positive thinking crap?  I think it works!

Before I took my uncle to Fort Wayne I had bought him a c.d. player and some  music. Johnny Cash, singing, "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die."  Not only did my Uncle know all the words, he stood up and and did a little dance. That is the last time I saw him as he once was and it was a gift. I try not to think of the craziness that dementia brought or how he looked in the nursing home. I try to remember his face as he sang Johnny Cash and danced. He would have laughed at me in my tu tu.

Never say never

I am not a runner. I am a very fast walker, not only on a track but in life. I just move fast.
Last year after 1 trip to The Color Run and another trip to The Dirty Girl Mud Run my oldest daughter said she was doing The Sunburst 5k here in South Bend. This is a BIG run in South Bend.
I will never do that one I said.
Today I did the Sunburst 5k.
A 5k, timed run that I planned to walk.
Another friend has been steady training with the Couch to 5k so when we discussed the 5k walk or run we figured we could walk as fast as some runners. (She ran the whole thing!!! She so rocks!)
So we head to the back of the pack taking hope that some of these people looked old and out of shape. Please...do not let me be embarrassed by myself. (There is video of The Mud Run...so sad Janie, so sad.)

We start running which was when I stopped on The Color Run. Pounding the pavement 2 years ago was a reality my knees would not accept. But today, I kept running. I ran quite a bit of this race. Oh my gosh, I am running with runners. Pardon me but No shit, I ran.

And about 20 feet in front of me I see a chubby girl, maybe 15 and she is alternating between running and walking. At first I want to say, whoo hoo, you go. But what I really want to say is Never stop. Don't be formed by others opinions of you and think you are too fat to do this or be that.  Don't stop listening to that voice that says, "I am good enough" just the way I am. Do not believe what this world shows you and tells you to believe about yourself.  You are a runner!

I said I would never do a 5k. But I did and I will remember that girl ahead of me the rest of my life.  She blessed me in ways I could not imagine. We were runners!

Special Ed

The reason I have my job is because of Oprah.  I went into the school to pick up one of my daughters for an appointment and the secretary asked me if I knew anyone who needed a job. "In special ed" she said and spun her finger around her ear, the univeral sign for crazy...How rude, I thought but I told her, "No, not me" and I drove the 2 minutes to my house and remembered Oprah did a show that said not to say no.  So I called and said, "Yes."
I started with k-2nd grade. And it was a lot of work. I had a kid that would drink out of mud puddles if I didn't beat him to the puddles to fill it with pea gravel.  I had a boy who would not attack the kids but would pound the heck out of the staff. And he was built like a miniature Mike Tyson. I had runners that I would chase down halls and across the playground. An autistic boy that was a biter. A little girl no bigger than a minute but was the bossiest thing I ever met, she had strong control over the Mike Tyson kid, she was fearless.And a little boy who came in with empty eyes who would cruise the perimeter of the room, he was a little lost boy who was so neglected it broke our hearts.  We loved him and he loved us.
There have been many kids who broke my heart over the years. Their parents in this life not able to care or in some cases love these kids.  This job is not for the weak.
So after many years of Special Ed I moved on to regular education with a deaf student.  I was tired of getting hit or kicked or watching a little boy stay lost.  I worked in regular ed for 3 years and then my student moved and I was set adrift in the schools.  Part time here, then drive over there.
Finally I was called with a new boy.  God was not done with me, He tossed me back in Special Ed.
My new boy was deaf, in a wheelchair and has a personality as big as the moon.  He has made me laugh, and more than once made me cry.  I think with all his problems he is not long for this world and I know my heart will never heal from this.  One day he wanted to talk about heaven and asked me if he would need his wheelchair in heaven. Would he be tall in heaven.  I told him that many people believed he would be tall and there would be no need for his wheelchair.  He thought on this and seemed very excited about the idea. (this was a time I cried)
I have lost a couple students in my life after I was out of their class.  And today I lost another, one who was lost here on earth for a long time. He broke my heart but showed me what love was and how it truly worked. I wonder what he thought as he crossed over...the enormous joy.  And I hope to see him on the other side, finally found.
Godspeed, little guy.

Cutting the burnt part off

The real moment when you realize you are grown up is when you wake up to put the turkey in the oven.  Pathetic child that just the year before you woke up to the smell of turkey baking.  This happened to me the first Thanksgiving that I was married to my ex-husband.  And his mother fixed a roast for the holiday...that should have been the first sign that he would become my ex. (I love me some turkey)

My memories of Thanksgiving are renewed every time I smell a turkey baking.  My mom got up at 5:00 a.m. to put the homemade stuffing into that bad boy and get his 20-26 lb. stuffed into the oven. The same oven that would have spent all day Wednesday pumping out 10-12 pies. (My mom was an over-achiever on holidays with food...okay, any day but the holidays were her Olympics). Our main complaint was in her stuffing she put those nasty pieces of chopped up liver and other bizarre inards that were made to be tossed.

And then, the family would come and various friends packing into the house.  Some made it every year, others fell away.  Our teenage boyfriends and girlfriends, later husbands and wives and kids like piss ants on sugar cookies.  My parent's house was big until we got older and it started to shrink with all of the packing in to eat and celebrate. 

The electric knife slicing thru the turkey, microwave beeps and the reminder to put the rolls in the oven.  It did not matter who was in charge those rolls got either too brown or burnt every year.  My mom and I standing over the cookie sheet, cutting off the burnt part.  I do not think I had an entire roll until we started buying the pre-baked ones.

And the feeding frenzy..."Who made this?" and "what is that?", "Is there any more cool whip?", "Can you get me a can of pop?" ....just the sound of it all.  Voices, laughter.
Afterwards we would play games and my mom and dad didn't want to play but would shout out the answers and we would yell, "Do you want to play or what?"  Shouts and cheating and more laughter, laughter.  And looking around and knowing, this is love.  It may be loud and dysfunctional at times and drunk and sober and crying and laughing and yelling and talking but THIS IS LOVE.

THIS IS LOVE.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!