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!

A decade

10 years ago today I went to the doctor with my oldest daughter Aubrey.   I thought they were going to talk about some surgery she would need, maybe she had ovarian cysts. She was 19 and I figured they wanted a parent to help her understand...
10 years ago today I found out my baby had stage 4 Ovarian cancer.
10 years ago today things changed forever.

When you go through this it is like some true definition of surreal...this is really what it is like.  Not real but you still are going through it, trying to breath through it, trying to make it through it. It being cancer.
So, on November 7th my world was rocked and on November 8th they took a tumor out of my girl the size of a magazine and 2 lymphe nodes the size of apples.  We were in the hospital for one week.
We came home and started the rounds to doctors.  Chemo started and stopped because of kidney issues and then a shunt and then back to chemo.
We hit every major holiday. Thanksgiving she could still eat. By Christmas we were shaving her head and hearing her puke.  Is there anything as sad as being 19 and getting your head shaved?  Or being too damn tired to do anything?
Needles and drugs. Blood transfusions and bottles of drugs. These were the longest months of my life. New Year's and finally February 14th we were done!
I think about these days often.  My heart breaks for every family that has to hear those words. It is cancer.
In the 10 years since I have changed.  Some times not for the better, there is a sadness that just sits in my soul... my child had cancer.  We came out on the other side but still, my baby had cancer.

Tomorrow though, we will celebrate that she has been cancer free for 10 years!  When I tell her I want to go out  and where does she want to go she tells me KFC.  This is the girl she is.  I laugh and say, somewhere better than that.  We will feast at Red Lobster and I will remember the months she couldn't eat anything without puking.  I will look at her hair with the new blue streak and remember the weeks with no hair. I will count my blessing that she is so wonderful she thought to include her Grandpa in our celebration. 
I will try to remember that every day is a gift, a powerful gift that we take for granted every day. A gift that we assume we will always have. A gift that I should be thanking God for every second of every day...
So, thank you God for every single day the past 10 years. 
And thank you for that Aubrey kid, we love her to pieces!

Bossy Little Thing

Today is my Rachel's birthday.  24 years ago, after the hot, hot, summer of 1988 I was in the hospital holding this new little girl.  Silly me, I thought I had one girl and it would be the same.  Boy, she taught me a few lessons.
Rachel is my solid girl. She is black or white, not much gray. She is loyal. She is smart. When she was like 4 years old she asked if 4+4=8.  All of her teachers asked me what they could do to keep her busy and I told them to let her read, and she has like a crazy person. She tore through Little House on The Prairie and then on the Kill a Mockingbird. When she was in the 4th grade she asked me what a valedictorian was and then said that was her plan.  She always follows through on her plans.
She loves anything Disney.  Disney World is her happy place and Beauty and The Beast is her favorite.  She has spent hours with the Lion King.
When her sister was going through cancer she found Jesus. And Jesus found her. She went to Bethel to be a minister.
I have a lot of video of Rachel as a little girl.  You can watch her imagination and joy and bossy little ways over and over. She always knew what she wanted.
So for 24 years I have had this person, that her dad and I created in my life. She has made me happy, sad, proud, crazy and amazed in every way. 
In 1988, after a very hot summer I was given a really cool gift. Happy Birthday to my Rachel Leigh, Disney Princess, Golden Girl....here's to may more!

Just a few short days..

Working for the school is a wonderful thing if you really don't want to work.  Summers off, Spring break, Christmas vacation and all those other holidays that they pay me for.  People who work year round have no sympathy for me when I say, "Ugh, after 10 weeks I have to go back to work!"  As a matter of fact I never say this to some people because I fear for my safety.  I honestly do not think I could work year round at this point in my life.
And at this point in my life I do not want to work at all.  And I am suppose to do this until I am 65?
Don't get me wrong, there are days I love my job...days that I laugh most of the day.  Other days, mmm, not so much.  It is never the kids that make me crazy or even my co-workers.  It is the parents who do not get it.  This is your child that you are suppose to care for, cherish...love.
So every year I dread giving up the free time to sew, float in the pool, stay up until 4:00 a.m. reading a good book. (The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman and Let's Pretend Like This Never Happened by Jenny Larson were 2 of the best this summer)  And now that Pinterest which could throw me over the edge for time...I just want to do what I want to do.
And I have figured out my dream job and everyone says I need a job with the health department but that is not it. (I would close everyone down)
I want to go through businesses and tell them what they need to clean.  I really try to keep my OCD on an even keel but I can't not see what I see.  I don't even have to be the person who cleans it but it would be cool to have a killer team that could go in and clean it up to my standards. And here I am to admit my dirty little secret:
When you say, "Don't look at my house, it's a mess" I always lie and say I won't but I do. Come on, I really have this OCD which I am sure is a mental illness so I have to look...I am not really even judging you, I am just thinking it needs cleaned up. 
And I gotta tell you, I was excited over "Hoarders" but then I realized that alot of people are living like that and I can never really clean it all.  But I try. I wipe the sinks in public bathrooms, I push the paper towels down, I pick up trash as I walk towards a store, and I always have a trash bag when I am walking the dog, not for poo I live outside the city, but for trash.
So....I guess I am heading back to school and employment. Ewww! I just want to sleep in and read 100 more books...oh, and get that cobweb by the t.v.

Section D @ Meijer

When I go to Meijer, I don't know why but I park in section D or close to it. I figure I will always remember where my car is because there are times I am in that place for a looong time. (And today I verified that the front of the store is much hotter than the rest of it. I swear I get to the check out and start sweating, and it's not just because I am handing over a lot of cash. Then I think "Wow, can I somehow predict a hot flash?" Ah, no old age ESP, the cashier said the front of the store it hotter!)
So I push my cart over the bumps to my car and I spot her.
She is maybe 65 and has a little cart with one bag and she is lost.
I put my groceries in my van and go 2 lanes over. She can't find her car. I ask her the color and which door she went in. Then I start looking for her car with her. I can tell she is a little panicked. 5 aisles over I see a car and ask her if it's a Legacy. She sees where it is parked and is embarrassed by her confusion. I wish her a Happy Easter and my heart breaks for her. Is this the first time she has been confused or is it the norm for her? Will she go home and tell someone how silly she felt or will she not mention it? It strikes me that she is someone's mom. It bothers me that all the other customers watched and did not take the time.
So I go back to section D and drive my $180. home. But I will not forget her any time soon. It took me less than 5 minutes to help her. Less than 5 minutes to calm her down. Less than 5 minutes to give her a little hope.
5 minutes can make such a difference in a day. Such a difference.

Mean Girls

I am a big fan of the movie "Mean Girls" but I think the ending was stupid. We all know those mean girls sometimes are always mean girls, even after they get hit by a bus. And I have to admit, I am sometimes a very mean girl. I once saw a Christian speaker talking about how women look another woman up and down and make a judgement within seconds of them walking in the room. A few weeks ago I commented on FB about a fashion statement that was way beyond bad. I have to say, I saw another one today....pants are never made to be tucked into socks.. EVER! But I am often reminded of that speaker, "What's it to you?" Calling me out on my mean girl ways.

Why are women like this? Is it to make ourselves feel better about who we are? I admit I do not like who I am alot of times... but, I try to balance it out.

I work with alot of women. For the most part we all get along which is amazing but I think it is also because we are too busy working or hot flashing to be too mean. I really like all the women I work with. They all have made me laugh until I cried which is the best way into my heart. And in the past few years they have lifted me up in some really crummy times...I will miss them when I go to the high school. (Which will be full of mean girls... middle school is just their training ground...ugh!)

So I guess I need to keep asking myself, "What's it to you?" and then keep answering myself, "It is nothing to me so I should just shut up...even if what I say is pretty damn funny, it is still hurtful and mean."

And I do need to be careful, there are alot of buses in my life.

A bag of crap

Today, against all that I hold civil and right I had to collect dog poop in a bag and take it to the vet. Yes, me who has had a dog for about 6 months and have officially turned into one of "those" people. My dog Sophie is allowed on the furniture, swims in our pool, is taken out for ice cream and sleeps IN MY BED! (Recently we are hosting another dog who needs a home because my Sophie was made to be an only child..Chaya the new pup is wonderful, let me know if you want a dog)

So there I am in the car with my ziplock bag inside a brown lunch bag telling my dad I hope nobody mistakes it for their lunch. (Sick thought and I am sure all vets know what's in the bag)

As we pull in there are 3 people by the fence with what I know is their dog, wrapped in a blanket. I know this dog is gone. And here are 2 grown men and a woman sobbing over this pet. It is like seeing rawness like you should not see. Over a dog. I do not need to wonder how this dog came into their lives and changed them. This dog that probably slept in their bed and looked with begging eyes whenever they ate at the table.

I admit that I did not get a pet because of the pain. I have seen my girls cry over lost pets. Why put yourself through that? And darn it, I broke down and now I have this wonderful brown face that barks too much and makes me laugh. She is like a cartoon in my life.

It is a risky thing to love a pet but maybe it is a risky thing not to.

Yeah, I am now one of "those" people.

Here comes the countdown

Every August I feel it, looming over my carefree days like the plague... Back to School time.
The stores can't get the 4th of July goodies off the shelves fast enough to announce and continually advertise "Back to School" And all the kids look so happy with their new supplies and clothes. And by mid August they trudge into school and try to lock and load for testing, testing, testing.
I remember the good old days. School was Labor Day to Memorial Day and for the life of me I can't remember when it started creeping into summer days. I also remember being excited about the clothes and supplies. (A friend once told me I got on the bus wearing a white blouse and blue jumper and she decided to make friends with me. I remember that outfit, it was polyester..Ha! The good old days!)
Don't get me wrong, I know some teachers rejoice in Back to School. I am not one of them. There is nothing more wonderful than waking up on a summer day with NO PLANS! The books to read! Piles and piles of books to read and you can stay up all night reading them, YAY! The pure joy of no alarm clock and the happiness of not hitting the floor running but staying in bed just because you can! I would not mind my job so much if it started at 10:00 a.m. everyday because I love to sleep.. it is my new sport of choice. (And at my age it is a battle to sleep so it is indeed a sport to me)
I hear all you year round workers screaming at me! Poor you! 10 weeks off for the summer, Christmas breaks and Spring break! You are so lucky! I admit, I am pretty lucky but maybe someday you would like to do my job. Walk into a Middle School and come out alive! It ain't pretty I have to tell you.
I have 10 days.

My Mom Sent me

Today I went to clean my Dad's house. I was standing with the endust when he said his childhood best friend had called and his wife is dying. She is in the hospital.
"Which hospital?" Dad was not sure so I called and soon we were heading to Bremen. My Mom sent me like she always would. She would call and tell me, someone was in the hospital and she wasn't sure if they Knew. Could I go? Would my sister or brother go? She needed to know.
This was my Mom's friend. They vacationed together and were married to fishermen. They loved each other. And a few years before my Mom died she told me that this friend didn't believe in God.
So my Mom knew and it bothered her.
Today I went into a room to visit this dying friend with my Dad. She made some comment about God taking care of his children. I hesitated since I knew weeks earlier my Dad and I talked about her non belief....so I boldly asked. And she answered and I knew that she Knew. That she was at peace.
She asked me if there was any message for my Mom when she got there. My Dad told her to tell Mom that the washer did turn his tee shirts inside out... I said tell her she didn't tell me how hard this would be. The living without a Mom. The incredible aching missing her. But she already knows.
Before we left my Dad cried and told her he was so glad he came to see her. He was worried about where she would be. He prayed for her nightly that she would know. And now he Knew. She would be in Paradise.
I had no plans to drive to a hospital today and driving home I saw a stone fence and remembered I had a dream the night before about a stone fence. And during my sleep my Mom was there with my Dad and they were surrounded by Christmas decorations....what could all this mean?
My Mom sent me. And it was a blessing today.

28 years

I had her named picked out long before she was even thought of. I dreamed of this little girl and I would name her Aubrey. A not so very ordinary girl or name. 28 years later, her name still fits her.
I did not know the first time I felt her kick or held her close what adventures we would have but I was glad I would be having them with her. She was and is a happy person, even as a baby I could have left her on a blanket in a field and she would have been content. She makes her own fun.
She wanted to know why she couldn't pull her head off. She loved New Kids On The Block. She was a terrible test taker. She has a strong moral compass. She has the best ugly cry and is my favorite person to watch a sad movie with. She is a hard and loyal worker. She drives a pick-up truck. Her short stories last forever and are often confusing. She loves KFC coleslaw. When she was getting ready to walk she fell on her face and walked on her knees for months. She loves her family. She is a hoarder.
She came home at 10 and wanted to shovel horse manure just to be near horses and she did it for years. She still loves horses.
When she was 19 she had stage 4 cancer. We walked into a doctor's office and walked out changed. My Aubrey had cancer. We went through chemo and losing hair and still we laughed together. She went through cancer with a spirit that I marveled at. She is a strong young woman who has made my life an incredible adventure for 28 years.
I thank God for her every day, that He would send this soul to me who has taught me so much.
Aubrey Lenee, I could not ask for more!

Self centered

I work in a middle school and there is no doubt if memory serves me right that at that age it was all about ME! And on a day to day basis I see that is how it is with kids that age. (Okay, some people never out grow that but that is another story)
I also work in life skills which some people view as a different world but I gotta tell you, they are all about themselves too. My "boy" truly believes the world revolves around his little deaf life and it is his way or the highway. He has a housefull of siblings and I imagine on any given day it is like WWF because he comes in with the bruises and scratches to prove it. (And he may be small but he is mighty)
So recently I am shopping with this little self centered ego maniac boy and he is looking at cars. I sign and ask him which one he likes and he hands me the one he liked and I explain he does have enough money. And then he looks at me and signs "No, for my brother" (His brother who was in the hospital. Earlier in the week I had to explain that his brother was not in the hospital because he had choked him but because his appendicts was bad and please don't choke your brother again) And there I am in the Meijer toy aisle crying.
It reminded me of my family. We are not kissy feely people. Growing up there was chaos, being pulled by my hair through the house, food fights and fist fights, stealing each other's clothes and according to my younger brother an occasional car. Once I walked into the kitchen and one brother's girlfriend was on my other brother's back beating him over the head with a frying pan..yeah, it was that crazy. (We tried to tone it down when my parents were home but more than once I remember my Mom trying to rein in the madness)
But through it all, we loved each other. Don't mess with my family. And we still argue but are too old and fat for a real brawl so the words fly back and forth. And we laugh a lot. And we are proof that fighters can be lovers too. (But you might want to hide the frying pans if we visit)

Forget me not

I believe in the saying that if you don't forgive people it is like drinking poison and hoping it kills them, it is true. Letting go is the best thing. Forgive them they don't know what they do...
But my problem is when you hurt me, betray me, show me I can't trust you I just can't get over the hurt of it. I try to forget and think, well, they are out of my life. But what happens when they were in your life so long that it is like you have lost a part of your heart?
Do they go on in their lives and never think of you? Never remember all the things you meant to each other? And even the future is in disarray. They were suppose to share all the wonderful things in our futures; weddings, babies and anniversaries. they were suppose to call you when the pain was so bad you knew that things were forever changed. But they didn't. Something happened that I didn't understand and now they do not think of me or care. They were someone that I loved and now I am forgotten.
I know it happens all the time with family and friends but I wonder how you heal from it? How do you forget it? How do you forget them? I keep trying.

Christmas Memories

Remember the silver tinsel from the 60's? The lovely silver strings that you hung on your dried up real tree in big clumps? And then the cat would eat it and crap it out.
One year our tree was so crooked that my Dad strung up fishing line from the tree to the ceiling to straighten it out.
The time I dropped the huge metal scissors into the punch bowl and cracked it but did not know until the punch started leaking all over the counter.
The flat plastic sled with a rope on it that were surely death traps on the sledding hills but one of the best gifts ever?
Christmas parties at school with presents and everything!
The year my parents went out and tied one on and then had to come home and put out gifts.. and they tried to be quiet. (They were not!)
Sitting in the living room and gazing at the tree at 3:00, arguing about who would wake up our parents the first time. 5:30 was their limit, really and God bless them for it.
The year all the adult kids with their kids crashed at our parents and stayed up watching "Ghostbusters!"
Every year that my Dad crabbed but my Mom did everything to give us a good Christmas when there was no money for them to do it. She pulled it off every year. We made cookies and watched movies and had ribbon candy. And she was up fixing turkey and baking for days. The pies would line the counter and and the tree would be loaded with candy canes. My Mom loved Christmas and she passed it on to all of us. This is when I miss her most and not because it's a holiday, because it was her holiday.
But when I am baking cookies or wrapping gifts I may be missing her but I am also thanking her for giving me this magic season. Thank you Mom and Dad for making us giving and loving. For giving us joy and laughter. I love you forever! Merry Christmas!

R U KIDDING ME?

The roads are slick and snow covered and you are driving in traffic texting or on your phone.
When you say you don't talk on the phone when your kids are in the car. What about other people's kids in their cars?
You are standing on a street corner begging and have the nerve to pull out a pack of cigarettes to smoke (not even generic cigarettes).
A middle school student gets a disability check when he is not even employable..he's 13 for God's sake.
My Dad is in the donut hole for meds while same student gets a monthly check.
Our new health care will cover your child until they are 26 as long as they stay unemployed. If their job offers them crap insurance they have to take it and your insurance cannot even be secondary. Doesn't matter if they are a full time student. My insurance told me to tell her to quit her job.
Nachos and cheese as a school lunch? When did that become a healthy options? Okay, I lied, any school lunch served is not a healthy option.
School breakfast on Fridays? Pop Tarts 400 calories and chocolate milk 170 calories.
Snookie.
Anything Kardashian, come on people.
Television censors...really? Do your job!
Gas that goes up 20 cents but never down 20.
Celebrities that scream they are Christians and then dress and dance like porno stars. If you wouldn't act like that in front of Jesus don't act like that. period.
And don't thank God for your awards when all your cds have parental warnings on them.
It's Sesame Street, put the girls away.
People who hang in the left hand lane and won't let you pass. Get out of my way.
People who get pets and then leave them out to cry and yelp all night..if you aren't going to love it don't get it.
People who don't donate blood, it's a life you are saving and you get a really good cookie.
Okay, I feel better now.