I gave my image a quick glance over through the glass window. Pleased at the reflection that smiled back at me, I slowly entered the heavy wood framed doors. A tinge of nervousness caused a small flutter with in my abdomen, as I carefully scanned the dimly lit bar room. Trying desperately to keep the photographed face of my date pictured in my mind while I searched for him.
It had been a few years since I had last been inside Keegans Pub, and the pleasant familiarity came rushing back to me instantly. I had indeed enjoyed so many casual platonic meetings here in the past. The comfort level reminding me once again why, I had chosen this place tonight. First dates had always been easy for me in the previous years following my divorce. I wondered if tonight would be any different. After all I was older and wiser with nothing to loose, knowing I would leave exactly as I came. I felt a pair of eyes looking at me from a cross the room, I looked up and there he was. His handsome smile broadening as our eyes met. As if on cue he rose from his chair eagerly waiting my approach. Yes I was definitely experiencing a slight case of the jitters. Something I had not felt in quite sometime and found now to be very interesting. Why and how I wondered, did he have such an effect on me. As I reached the table, instantly he stepped forward to extend his strong hand in a firm greeting. His scent almost tantalizing me, as his hazel eyes lingered just slightly enough, to let me know I had commanded his full attention.
Conversation and the surge of occasional laughter managed to last between us for several hours. I embraced his light humor and found myself almost dazzled by the ease of our conversing. I sighed momentarily remembering the uneasiness I had felt earlier in the evening. The night simply could not have went more perfect if I had wrote it and rehearsed it myself. I was in awe of the fact that the night was shortly coming to an end. We rose together to say our goodbyes but his embrace told me, this truly was just hello. My nap from the dating world was over and a new journey was possibly on the verge of beginning. I felt good about the steps I had taken to get to where I was now, and happy to be able to share my moving on, with a new attraction.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Saturday, February 1, 2014
beyond
His blue eyes looked back me as though he was lost and unable to show any emotion, almost as though he was void of all human feeling. In cool silence, with out words he sat. His strong hands, the hands that had at one time tenderly held my own, now laid neatly folded, in front him, while he blankly, looked at me. I searched his face for something. Anything, that resembled an inkling of the emotions I desperately yearned for. My mind raced with thoughts, and memories of us, while I fought to hold back the heartache that was anxiously waiting to consume me. Slowly I parted my lips to speak to him from my heart. A heart, that for several weeks, now had felt as the though shards of glass had severed it into broken sections. My words echoed in my head with each syllable as I spoke. Desperately I wanted to reach into the depths of his soul. Clutching at the smallest bit of hope, I waited to hear him say something, to help me not give up on him. Something that declared we still had a chance together. Hope that somehow I could find some passion for me, with in him alive. His defensive response only reassured what I had already began to realize months ago, was missing. After all this time, he still could not tell me the three words I wanted to hear. There simply was nothing left for me to fight for. With out warning, I swiftly rose to my feet and walked away. Leaving him sitting at the table alone, in his protected world. A world where he had allowed fear to build a wall. A wall that shut out the one thing we all as humans strive for. His past holding him captive in a space void of the beauty which comes from love.
My drive home alone that night was met with a long thoughtful silence. A silence I embraced. Somehow, as much as my heart ached for the man I had fallen in love with, I knew it was what I needed to do. He had told me he had feelings but ....With out conviction of the words, he knew I longed for, and needed to hear. His own use of the word BUT told me more than he knew. I had put aside my own fears and shared with him from my heart. Sadly he was no closer to telling me something to keep me from giving up. As I drove in my silence it become clear, loosing me was something he had already prepared to do. It was a choice he had long ago accepted. After four years together, the best he could give me was the willingness to work toward an agreement, as though love was capable of standing still and be negotiated.
In moving on and rediscovering me, I find myself deeply consumed at times analyzing the dysfunction of so many humans. I am staggered by the endless search for love from the world that surrounds me. The willingness to search for love by so many, but the lack of change to attempt to attract our hearts desire, and the strength demanded to hold on to it. As always in all my endeavors it is my hope to gain insight and knowledge. To walk away with more than what I began my journey with. True satisfying love comes from the heart and not the mind.
My drive home alone that night was met with a long thoughtful silence. A silence I embraced. Somehow, as much as my heart ached for the man I had fallen in love with, I knew it was what I needed to do. He had told me he had feelings but ....With out conviction of the words, he knew I longed for, and needed to hear. His own use of the word BUT told me more than he knew. I had put aside my own fears and shared with him from my heart. Sadly he was no closer to telling me something to keep me from giving up. As I drove in my silence it become clear, loosing me was something he had already prepared to do. It was a choice he had long ago accepted. After four years together, the best he could give me was the willingness to work toward an agreement, as though love was capable of standing still and be negotiated.
In moving on and rediscovering me, I find myself deeply consumed at times analyzing the dysfunction of so many humans. I am staggered by the endless search for love from the world that surrounds me. The willingness to search for love by so many, but the lack of change to attempt to attract our hearts desire, and the strength demanded to hold on to it. As always in all my endeavors it is my hope to gain insight and knowledge. To walk away with more than what I began my journey with. True satisfying love comes from the heart and not the mind.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Every now and then I am given the opportunity to see my sons throw a curve to Duchenne. Rejoicing with what might be a seemingly small feat of muscle strength to the ambulatory world yet a very large triumph for my sons and I.
Yesterday shortly after dressing and lifting Cody from his bed into his desk chair on wheels I wheeled him into his bathroom to brush his teeth. A ritual he took pride in and was still able to perform daily with minimal assistance. I fixed his electric tooth brush up with tooth paste and handed it to him. Laying a hand towel next to him, I watched momentarily as he slowly moved his hand in front the motion sensors of his bathroom faucet. I stood there wondered for a second just how much longer he and Josiah would continue to prefer the desk chairs in the house rather than their power chairs. Carefully he held his toothbrush under the running water. Satisfied he had his task at hand under control, I could now concentrate on assisting Josiah with his morning hygiene. Shortly after I had Josiah lifted from his bed and seated him comfortably in his desk chair I returned to check on Cody. Much to my joy he was not only done washing his hands and brushing his teeth he was now attempting to etch his way out of his en suite, by propelling himself with his feet backward into the hall. I was thrilled this was still a physical capability for him, and feeling hopeful the he was getting a bit of muscle stretching in return with out my assistance. From the back of the chair I assisted Cody slightly over the threshold leading from his en suite. While most of the door ways though out our house on the main level had been modified to serve both of my two younger sons needs, this one still required a bit more muscle strength to propel by use of a wheeled office chair.
Cody now free to roam on his own worked his way back in to his bedroom. I watched as he paused slightly at his closet door reaching for a stretchy cord with a clasp attached. He diligently raised his arm to pull the strap from the door handle. With deep concentration he worked his fingers to maneuver the strap around his head. Leaning forward he draped the elastic cord around his neck. Not sure why he wanted the cord on I watched him continue to move. With a force all his own he managed to get himself positioned in front of his PS3on a shelf just at foot of his bed. I stood amazed . Cody was defying Duchenne right now. He was 20 and a half. Clearly arm strength was diminishing as well as leg. Cody was very limited with his ability to use his arms, yet there he was. Placing a neck cord over his head,most likely just because he could still do it. Using his feet to push himself around and feeling happy he could still manage.
I smiled as I recalled the past year. 2013 had been an eventful year for us. Yes it had had its up and downs. But we had made it through all of it. Not with out tears and some losses, and the end of the year has personally been difficult for me. But the year has filled me with great joy. Watching Cody graduate from high school taking the lead. As a Duchenne mom there are no words to describe the magnitude of joy I had as Cody personally accepted his diploma. My child with a fatal disease and a cognitive delay graduated with honors.
This year one day out of the blue Cody had told me just how he felt. He looked up at me and said "mom I have a good life". That told me all I needed to know. My son- at least right now- was happy. I felt relief. It was a year that still had its trying moments and hurdles for us to over come . But both boys managed to letter in adapted bowling at school. Make the honor role and attempt a few new things. Josiah and Cody went Turkey hunting, was successful at Salmon fishing. This past fall both also went bear hunting. Cody after only being out in the woods for 2 hours had harvested his own bear. Yes, clearly we had been blessed to have these opportunities. Memories of very special moments I shared with my sons. I felt good about the year we had had. I felt proud of what I had accomplished myself as a single parent without their fathers help at all. Despite the comments and negative rapport that had worked its way back to me, I had indeed accomplished more than I would have thought possible. Whatever was said about me did not matter. I had won the praise of my son and that was all that counted.
Yesterday shortly after dressing and lifting Cody from his bed into his desk chair on wheels I wheeled him into his bathroom to brush his teeth. A ritual he took pride in and was still able to perform daily with minimal assistance. I fixed his electric tooth brush up with tooth paste and handed it to him. Laying a hand towel next to him, I watched momentarily as he slowly moved his hand in front the motion sensors of his bathroom faucet. I stood there wondered for a second just how much longer he and Josiah would continue to prefer the desk chairs in the house rather than their power chairs. Carefully he held his toothbrush under the running water. Satisfied he had his task at hand under control, I could now concentrate on assisting Josiah with his morning hygiene. Shortly after I had Josiah lifted from his bed and seated him comfortably in his desk chair I returned to check on Cody. Much to my joy he was not only done washing his hands and brushing his teeth he was now attempting to etch his way out of his en suite, by propelling himself with his feet backward into the hall. I was thrilled this was still a physical capability for him, and feeling hopeful the he was getting a bit of muscle stretching in return with out my assistance. From the back of the chair I assisted Cody slightly over the threshold leading from his en suite. While most of the door ways though out our house on the main level had been modified to serve both of my two younger sons needs, this one still required a bit more muscle strength to propel by use of a wheeled office chair.
Cody now free to roam on his own worked his way back in to his bedroom. I watched as he paused slightly at his closet door reaching for a stretchy cord with a clasp attached. He diligently raised his arm to pull the strap from the door handle. With deep concentration he worked his fingers to maneuver the strap around his head. Leaning forward he draped the elastic cord around his neck. Not sure why he wanted the cord on I watched him continue to move. With a force all his own he managed to get himself positioned in front of his PS3on a shelf just at foot of his bed. I stood amazed . Cody was defying Duchenne right now. He was 20 and a half. Clearly arm strength was diminishing as well as leg. Cody was very limited with his ability to use his arms, yet there he was. Placing a neck cord over his head,most likely just because he could still do it. Using his feet to push himself around and feeling happy he could still manage.
I smiled as I recalled the past year. 2013 had been an eventful year for us. Yes it had had its up and downs. But we had made it through all of it. Not with out tears and some losses, and the end of the year has personally been difficult for me. But the year has filled me with great joy. Watching Cody graduate from high school taking the lead. As a Duchenne mom there are no words to describe the magnitude of joy I had as Cody personally accepted his diploma. My child with a fatal disease and a cognitive delay graduated with honors.
This year one day out of the blue Cody had told me just how he felt. He looked up at me and said "mom I have a good life". That told me all I needed to know. My son- at least right now- was happy. I felt relief. It was a year that still had its trying moments and hurdles for us to over come . But both boys managed to letter in adapted bowling at school. Make the honor role and attempt a few new things. Josiah and Cody went Turkey hunting, was successful at Salmon fishing. This past fall both also went bear hunting. Cody after only being out in the woods for 2 hours had harvested his own bear. Yes, clearly we had been blessed to have these opportunities. Memories of very special moments I shared with my sons. I felt good about the year we had had. I felt proud of what I had accomplished myself as a single parent without their fathers help at all. Despite the comments and negative rapport that had worked its way back to me, I had indeed accomplished more than I would have thought possible. Whatever was said about me did not matter. I had won the praise of my son and that was all that counted.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
the after -
A single tear rolled silently down my face as I watched the emergency room team ardently search for a vein to connect IV lines into. Numbers on the monitors, recording my sons vitals, sent a surge of fear throughout my entire body. The EMT's eyes met mine, telling me I had every right to feel fear. I searched the room for a face that could give me some reinforcement of hope, but instead I saw something else. It almost seemed as though none of this could be real. As though, it was a bad dream, that I could not awake from. I stood holding the limp hand of my eldest son, watching in a frozen state of panic, as his swollen blood shot eyes rolled back into his head, leaving just a glimmer of white visible. His young, strong physique now collapsed. He laid curled in a half fetus position, unable to straighten from bouts of pain that ripped through his dehydrated body. Softly I whispered to my son the only words that mattered right then. How much I loved him and needed him, how much his brothers loved and needed him.
I watched for what seemed like hours unable to move as his blood pressure continued to slowly drop. This was my first born I was now watching, clinging to life. My strong healthy son who was not living with a fatal disease. My son who did not have Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Zach the son who had always been my light and support. The son I turned to at times for strength while Duchenne viciously attacked his brothers. My heart ached and my mind raced wildly, trying to make sense of what was happening to him now.
Briefly, Zach opened his eyes and looked at me, his face twisted as he winced in severe pain. Slowly in a weak quiet voice through sobs he told me, "he was sorry". His eyes rolled back exposing only the whites again, his body going limp once more. My mind screamed for him. I pleaded softly for him to hang in there, to be strong, for me. Holding his hand in mine I also silently begged God to not take him. I was breaking, feeling as though parts of me were dying. I was alone with my fear and begging for God's mercy. Watching helplessly as my eldest son fought for his very life, right before my eyes.
I tried to stay as much as possible out of the ER staff's way, while they worked on Zach. Periodically exchanging glances with his father, my ex. This was the second time in a month we had spent time together in concern and worry for our children. This time it was a serious matter of life and death that had brought us together. While Zach's father questioned every medical staff and procedure I held Zach's hand. His hand, that I had no intention of letting go until he was stable.
We arrived at the ER sometime around 5am, It was noon before Zach was stable enough to be moved to ICU. His blood pressure had risen just enough to safely start pain meds through his IV. Our wait had now only just begun. We were told several times Zach was lucky. We were lucky. Very lucky he got to the hospital when he did. What Zach had thought was only the flu and tried to let runs its course, turned out to be so much more and worsened very fast. Zach had contracted Bacterial Strep cal Meningitis.
After hours and some reassurance he was holding on, I walked to the waiting room with Zach's father to allow Zach's girl friend to have a moment alone with him. She had patiently sat waiting in the ER lobby, hoping and praying for the last several hours, while we hovered over our son. In over 9 years I had not heard my ex ever ask how I was doing. Not even 4 years ago when My youngest Josiah underwent a grueling 4 hour spinal fusion surgery. Somehow now, here it was. Compassion from him, meant for me. How was I, he wanted to know. I had to think for a moment. I really had no idea. My eldest son was critically ill, fighting an infection running throughout his entire body. We were now in the stage of waiting to hear if there would be any permanent damage and if the antibiotics were working. My two younger sons with a terminal illness were at home scared to death for their big brother. Wondering when they would see mom again. I had no idea if they had been infected. I was feeling overwhelmed with making arrangements to have them cared for while I was away. How was I? I was drained, tired, literally breaking inside, angry and hurt. I ached for something I did not have in my life. Something I did not want from him. Not now.
Tears filled his eyes as he looked at me. For the first time in a very long time I saw that he truly still cared. We stood looking at each other. Arms hanging at our sides. Every ounce of energy I had left belonged to my children. I would find time later to cry my tears. I smiled at him assuring him I was fine, telling him Zach needed us now and nothing else mattered.
It pleases me with over whelming joy, to say, Zach has since made a complete recovery. But the memory of seeing him so ill haunts me still. It took everything I had in me, to not completely break. I knew I needed to be strong, to be there for Zach, and still take care of Josiah and Cody. None of it would have been possible, without my wonderful supportive sister Marie, and her husband Bill. Who have always been there for us, no matter what.
However it scares me beyond anything imaginable. This is the fate to come with my Josiah and Cody. This is not the end of ER visits and quite literally life and death for us-for Josiah and Cody. Three days after Zach was released from the hospital as an outpatient in the agreement he would return for daily infusions, I was back to the ER with Cody. Its never a good sign when the hospital ER staff recognizes the family name. I had several more days spent holding Codys hand while in the hospital as he fought a virus, and also making sure arrangements were made to help Zach out. Luckily Cody's illness was not exactly life threatening. On the second night of Codys hospital stay a young male nurse introduced himself to me as part of the staff that would be helping Cody that particular night. With out even asking, this young man brought me a cot to sleep on. A pair of pajamas to sleep in and a bag of toiletries. I watched silently as he made the cot up for me. Slowly he held the pajamas out to me and said "mom, I watched you most of the day, you need rest". He was right. It had been a long difficult day, with Cody experiencing side effects, from a narcotic given to him for pain. But the night from hell, was yet to come. Cody had an even more adverse reaction, to yet another drug he was given for pain relief. It broke my very spirit to see him suffer even more. Curled up like a fetus, facing the wall, I let my tears silently and freely fall. There was nothing any of us could do, except wait for this drug too also pass through his system.
I realized something that night, that it was while I was holding Zach's hand when I first felt as though the life I once knew was truly and slowly slipping away. That has, in many ways really challenged my thoughts and me. Leaving me questioning what really matters in my life. How do I find away to rejoice for those around me, while slowly my heart breaks for the losses Josiah and Cody face daily?
I celebrated this Christmas feeling absolutely joyful that I was able to share this Holy time with all three of my sons at home. Giving thanks for the tremendous support we are blessed with. Very thankful for all the prayers and love that was sent to us. In all honesty inside though, it was a very difficult and emotional time for me to be with my sisters and their families. I love them all dearly, and yet I find myself in deep sadness, because they know and live a life I will never know. Some of you will not ever get this. Perhaps that is your own Blessing. But to those of us (You) who truly understand parenting a sick child, single parenting, loosing a loved one, letting go of a dream, or my favorite( the big) feeling- joy in sorrow (perhaps now I have reached more of you)- you will understand. I am at present still fumbling through jarred emotions that leave me feeling a bit crippled and lost. As though I am with out strength and unable to move beyond them. As much as I dislike some of what has been awaken in me I can not deny its existence. I can not ignore how utterly different and disconnected I feel at times even from my sisters and their families.
I am not searching for any answers. Perhaps just the occasional comfort, from knowing, that somehow all of this suffering, especially that of which, I see in my wonderful loving DMD families, has somehow made a difference in the world -our worlds-somehow, somewhere. That if nothing else, the daily battle alone of living with Musclar Dystrophy is enough to cause a change in hearts. To bring out LOVE when it is needed most.
I watched for what seemed like hours unable to move as his blood pressure continued to slowly drop. This was my first born I was now watching, clinging to life. My strong healthy son who was not living with a fatal disease. My son who did not have Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Zach the son who had always been my light and support. The son I turned to at times for strength while Duchenne viciously attacked his brothers. My heart ached and my mind raced wildly, trying to make sense of what was happening to him now.
Briefly, Zach opened his eyes and looked at me, his face twisted as he winced in severe pain. Slowly in a weak quiet voice through sobs he told me, "he was sorry". His eyes rolled back exposing only the whites again, his body going limp once more. My mind screamed for him. I pleaded softly for him to hang in there, to be strong, for me. Holding his hand in mine I also silently begged God to not take him. I was breaking, feeling as though parts of me were dying. I was alone with my fear and begging for God's mercy. Watching helplessly as my eldest son fought for his very life, right before my eyes.
I tried to stay as much as possible out of the ER staff's way, while they worked on Zach. Periodically exchanging glances with his father, my ex. This was the second time in a month we had spent time together in concern and worry for our children. This time it was a serious matter of life and death that had brought us together. While Zach's father questioned every medical staff and procedure I held Zach's hand. His hand, that I had no intention of letting go until he was stable.
We arrived at the ER sometime around 5am, It was noon before Zach was stable enough to be moved to ICU. His blood pressure had risen just enough to safely start pain meds through his IV. Our wait had now only just begun. We were told several times Zach was lucky. We were lucky. Very lucky he got to the hospital when he did. What Zach had thought was only the flu and tried to let runs its course, turned out to be so much more and worsened very fast. Zach had contracted Bacterial Strep cal Meningitis.
After hours and some reassurance he was holding on, I walked to the waiting room with Zach's father to allow Zach's girl friend to have a moment alone with him. She had patiently sat waiting in the ER lobby, hoping and praying for the last several hours, while we hovered over our son. In over 9 years I had not heard my ex ever ask how I was doing. Not even 4 years ago when My youngest Josiah underwent a grueling 4 hour spinal fusion surgery. Somehow now, here it was. Compassion from him, meant for me. How was I, he wanted to know. I had to think for a moment. I really had no idea. My eldest son was critically ill, fighting an infection running throughout his entire body. We were now in the stage of waiting to hear if there would be any permanent damage and if the antibiotics were working. My two younger sons with a terminal illness were at home scared to death for their big brother. Wondering when they would see mom again. I had no idea if they had been infected. I was feeling overwhelmed with making arrangements to have them cared for while I was away. How was I? I was drained, tired, literally breaking inside, angry and hurt. I ached for something I did not have in my life. Something I did not want from him. Not now.
Tears filled his eyes as he looked at me. For the first time in a very long time I saw that he truly still cared. We stood looking at each other. Arms hanging at our sides. Every ounce of energy I had left belonged to my children. I would find time later to cry my tears. I smiled at him assuring him I was fine, telling him Zach needed us now and nothing else mattered.
It pleases me with over whelming joy, to say, Zach has since made a complete recovery. But the memory of seeing him so ill haunts me still. It took everything I had in me, to not completely break. I knew I needed to be strong, to be there for Zach, and still take care of Josiah and Cody. None of it would have been possible, without my wonderful supportive sister Marie, and her husband Bill. Who have always been there for us, no matter what.
However it scares me beyond anything imaginable. This is the fate to come with my Josiah and Cody. This is not the end of ER visits and quite literally life and death for us-for Josiah and Cody. Three days after Zach was released from the hospital as an outpatient in the agreement he would return for daily infusions, I was back to the ER with Cody. Its never a good sign when the hospital ER staff recognizes the family name. I had several more days spent holding Codys hand while in the hospital as he fought a virus, and also making sure arrangements were made to help Zach out. Luckily Cody's illness was not exactly life threatening. On the second night of Codys hospital stay a young male nurse introduced himself to me as part of the staff that would be helping Cody that particular night. With out even asking, this young man brought me a cot to sleep on. A pair of pajamas to sleep in and a bag of toiletries. I watched silently as he made the cot up for me. Slowly he held the pajamas out to me and said "mom, I watched you most of the day, you need rest". He was right. It had been a long difficult day, with Cody experiencing side effects, from a narcotic given to him for pain. But the night from hell, was yet to come. Cody had an even more adverse reaction, to yet another drug he was given for pain relief. It broke my very spirit to see him suffer even more. Curled up like a fetus, facing the wall, I let my tears silently and freely fall. There was nothing any of us could do, except wait for this drug too also pass through his system.
I realized something that night, that it was while I was holding Zach's hand when I first felt as though the life I once knew was truly and slowly slipping away. That has, in many ways really challenged my thoughts and me. Leaving me questioning what really matters in my life. How do I find away to rejoice for those around me, while slowly my heart breaks for the losses Josiah and Cody face daily?
I celebrated this Christmas feeling absolutely joyful that I was able to share this Holy time with all three of my sons at home. Giving thanks for the tremendous support we are blessed with. Very thankful for all the prayers and love that was sent to us. In all honesty inside though, it was a very difficult and emotional time for me to be with my sisters and their families. I love them all dearly, and yet I find myself in deep sadness, because they know and live a life I will never know. Some of you will not ever get this. Perhaps that is your own Blessing. But to those of us (You) who truly understand parenting a sick child, single parenting, loosing a loved one, letting go of a dream, or my favorite( the big) feeling- joy in sorrow (perhaps now I have reached more of you)- you will understand. I am at present still fumbling through jarred emotions that leave me feeling a bit crippled and lost. As though I am with out strength and unable to move beyond them. As much as I dislike some of what has been awaken in me I can not deny its existence. I can not ignore how utterly different and disconnected I feel at times even from my sisters and their families.
I am not searching for any answers. Perhaps just the occasional comfort, from knowing, that somehow all of this suffering, especially that of which, I see in my wonderful loving DMD families, has somehow made a difference in the world -our worlds-somehow, somewhere. That if nothing else, the daily battle alone of living with Musclar Dystrophy is enough to cause a change in hearts. To bring out LOVE when it is needed most.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
One last Christmas
Laying next to my mother, listening to her shallow breathing, I felt a small flutter with in my womb. I knew I carried life inside of me and was over joyed with the very thought. It was just a few days before Christmas, and I wanted desperately to share my joyful news with her. It had been days since we had even seen her beautiful hazel eyes open, or flutter once. The Hospice team had alerted us as her time to leave us draws near we would notice changes in her. Within the last several days she had become almost unresponsive to our touch and movement around her. Needing to feel her presence more I snuggled in closer, to her warm motionless body. She had grown so fragile since the cancer had taken over. I felt as though my own petite size was almost amazon next to her.
I was expecting my second child and was not yet showing, but the fatigue and morning sickness were a daily reminder to me of my own present delicate condition. Laying my head next to where my Mother rested hers, I watched my first born as he danced around her bedroom, excitedly singing Christmas carols with all the sweetness of his young voice. It brought me great joy that the spirit of Christmas bubbled with in him. I embraced this opportunity to rest and be entertained. Wishing ardently to be absorbed into the joy this magical season brought to him. I was just nearing the end of my first trimester. Fear, left behind after a miscarriage in a previous pregnancy cautioned me in the timing of my announcement, that I was indeed with child. I smiled as my eyes followed Zach my then three year old first born, as he happily moved around the room. His innocence and joy almost illuminating. He did not question anymore why Grandma slept constantly. Almost as though he simply accepted that things were what they were and that was fine. All he knew was that it was getting closer to Santa's coming, and that gave him reason to celebrate. My news that he would be a big brother could wait for another time. A time when we could embrace life together.
Zach slowly disappeared to gather up some more furry stuff animals to join in his celebration. I seized the moment to then softly whisper to my Mom, I was expecting. She laid silently next to me. I snuggled even closer. Hoping to have some sign she had heard me. She never responded. I may never know whether she actually heard me, but just knowing I was given the chance to tell her filled me with a sort of teary peace.
The advent season is once again amongst us. As I begin to prepare for another Christmas season with my family I find myself recalling more recently passed holiday seasons that have also presented me with a few challenging heartfelt moments. Moments that at times left me feeling lost in fear and sorrow. Clinging to hope and prayer. It was just 2 Christmases ago when my two oldest sons both became ill and had to be hospitalized. First my eldest son Zach contracted a very serious case of bacterial Meningitis. The days that he spent in ICU fighting for his life is etched in my memory for ever . As we watched Zach slowly become stable enough to be moved from ICU to a hospital room my second son Cody became ill with a virus and was also admitted to the same hospital for treatment. They both recovered in time to celebrate Christmas at home.
Today all my sons continue to be doing amazingly well. While Zach has recovered remarkably, Duchennes symptoms have progressed considerably, in Cody and also my youngest son Josiah. But even with that, for now, I happily can claim they all continue to thrive. Even with all the challenges that Cody and Josiah are faced with daily. But as I recall those special holidays I am flooded once again with emotion. No longer a sadness dwelling in me. But now, a realization of how precious memories are and how triumphant love is. I am still reminded of the fear that swept over me as I searched inward years ago to find courage, to be the strength that was needed of me for my family. During those extreme times that demanded so much from me, also came some very real self examining of my life, hopes, and needs.
We did manage to celebrate Christmas 20 years ago for the last time with my Mother. Gathered around her bed, we all sat softly singing Christmas carols through quiet tears. We took turns opening up small gifts in an effort to maintain the ritual of giving, for our children's sake. Its a Christmas I will always cherish, a time very close to my heart and a time that I turn back too from time to time when I am in a difficult place. A special time when I relied heavily on love and hope to help me move past my pain. A time that I shared with my amazing sisters. A time where we were given the gift to spend one last Christmas with our mother together. My mother never regained consciousness and passed away three days later. Just as she took her last breath a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She held on for those last days we know for us. To give us a gift, one last Christmas together. Yes, Christmas is a most magical time. A time for giving and loving and making memories. A special time to tell the ones you hold dear in your heart that you love them. A season that gives us hope and the chance to rejoice with LOVE. Love, Peace and Joy to you all this Holiday Season .
Saturday, November 16, 2013
a reason to give thanks
Looking out the window I noticed the lake was now free from any wild life. Much to my surprise a very thin blanket of ice spotted the now peaceful frigid water. Reminding me even more of autumns presence and the chill that has invaded the air. I shivered quietly, as I looked over the yard. The clouds were grey and delivered a slight gloom across the open horizon. The somberness of the day could not be denied. Nature had carried on with out hesitation. A coverlet of frost camouflaged the once lush green plant life that cascaded a long my shore line, beckoning the onset of the winter to come. This time of year always put me in deep thought, and I tried hard to fight the memories that silently stirred with in me. The coming of Thanksgiving left with me so much more than thinking of things to be thankful for, it also stood as a reminder for me how vulnerable we all can be. A personal challenge I still fought secretly alone to overcome.
It had been several years since the break in, and yet every year briefly at this time, I find my self wrestling with emotions that I had hoped I would be free of by now. I wanted so desperately to move past the anxiety that haunted me every November. Now settled into a new home here it was again, as if only to remind me, for mere moments, how exposed and vulnerable we all are to nefarious acts of this world. Leaving me amidst my thoughts, dragging me back to a time where my courage and strength were met with great challenge.
I have always admired people who face their fears. Claiming weakness that stirs with in them and then commanding courage, allowing them to put forth strength, in order to move past diabolical situations. I had decided it was time for me to attempt this. Perhaps, if I allowed myself to finally except my fear and sift through my memories of that cold November morning, when I stood face to face with my intruder. Divest of all clothing, clad in just a small robe, I might just be able to free myself of an unwanted memory. Perhaps I too, would finally begin to quell my own trepidation. With the heat of anguish now beginning to fill me at an alarming rate, I let my thoughts travel backward.
It was near the end of November, a few days before Thanksgiving. I was going through a rancorous divorce and found myself most days almost overwhelmed. Consumed with raising three children on my own, two with a fatal disease and eagerly trying to earn more income by day caring for my niece. I had just awoken my great niece up from a nap, and was optimistic with helping her to be bathroom trained. While she sat comfortably on her potty chair in my upstairs bathroom, I decided I would take a quick shower next to her. I stood under the warm spray, feeling the water run down me as I listened to her chant parts of a song we had sang together from the radio, a day earlier. Just as I felt parts of me relax, under the tepid water, I heard a my dog Share, who was also shut in the bathroom with us, begin to bark loudly, towards the locked bathroom door. Before I even had time to wonder what had alarmed her, what seem to resemble the sound of a wall being knocked down, impelled my own fears. With in an instant I shut the water off. Frantically I grabbed for a robe to put around me, and with what ever calmness I had available, I insisted my little niece to stay put, until I came for her. Fear enveloping me, I opened the bathroom door. Knowing I had to anatomize what was happening, swiftly I moved down the hall. Share my small Pomeranian bolted ahead of me, as if it was her job to investigate. She flew down the stairs growling. By the time I had made it half way down the steps her barking ceased, and so did the shaking of my walls. Just as I reached the bottom of the stair case I peered around the corner, only to see my dog laying on her back, silent and motionless. Seeing her lay there, legs stiff and in the air held me captive. Panic flooded me as I began to look up. A cross the room from me now stood an intruder. Hardly aware that I had little to defend myself with, I began screaming and wildly lunging toward him. The strength that came from me was more than my own. Driven by sheer panic that he had killed my dog, and meant harm to me and my beautiful niece, was enough for me to act in whatever way I needed, to keep us safe and to survive this invasion. He fled.
Some times our minds have a way to help us cope with traumatic events, by allowing us to forget pieces. While we remember the facts, details slowly detach themselves. I can remember screaming and pushing. But I can not recall my intruders face, or if he shoved back. I vividly remember seeing him in my house with in feet of me. I remember he had dark short hair but everything else about him seemed average and faded. I can still see the busted frame around my front door, from using great force to enter. My steel door hardly showed a dent from the break in, but the actual frame itself laid so shattered in pieces on the floor of my entry way that the door could not close after his retreat.
My locked dead bolt had did its job in keeping my door locked, but in doing so also managed to take the door frame down with the fierce intrusion. I will forever see the image of my dog as she laid motionless and the way she shook after coming too.
I have to share I shunned at the awkwardness I felt, writing this down for the first time. Feeling that if I exposed my story, I may only make myself a victim again. Or that in someway I would be scrutinized for my reactions. For in truth, deep down inside I do need to let go of the guilt, and the fear I have cradled inside of me for years. Guilt because I often wondered, did I in someway draw the attention to myself, as was suggested to me by a few people, because of my appearance and recent entry into the dating world. Secondly fear because my intruder was never caught. He broke in through the front door, mid morning, as though he was not afraid to be caught, and also fear because I could not ID him. One true thing that I had held on to over the years however, was, that I had managed to chase this man away, wet and clothed in only a small robe, that my dog had only been knocked out and not killed. What could have been a thousand times worse ended with out bodily harm to myself or my niece.
My niece has no real memory of that November morning. By the time her own fears drove her to seek out my where a bouts we were alone again, and waiting for the police. I now live in a different home. I have no issues with being home alone or showering. I hang on to the fact we were very lucky that day and try not to dwell on why it happened at all.
So as with every Thanksgiving I give thanks to the grace that surrounds me that morning and every morning.
It had been several years since the break in, and yet every year briefly at this time, I find my self wrestling with emotions that I had hoped I would be free of by now. I wanted so desperately to move past the anxiety that haunted me every November. Now settled into a new home here it was again, as if only to remind me, for mere moments, how exposed and vulnerable we all are to nefarious acts of this world. Leaving me amidst my thoughts, dragging me back to a time where my courage and strength were met with great challenge.
I have always admired people who face their fears. Claiming weakness that stirs with in them and then commanding courage, allowing them to put forth strength, in order to move past diabolical situations. I had decided it was time for me to attempt this. Perhaps, if I allowed myself to finally except my fear and sift through my memories of that cold November morning, when I stood face to face with my intruder. Divest of all clothing, clad in just a small robe, I might just be able to free myself of an unwanted memory. Perhaps I too, would finally begin to quell my own trepidation. With the heat of anguish now beginning to fill me at an alarming rate, I let my thoughts travel backward.
It was near the end of November, a few days before Thanksgiving. I was going through a rancorous divorce and found myself most days almost overwhelmed. Consumed with raising three children on my own, two with a fatal disease and eagerly trying to earn more income by day caring for my niece. I had just awoken my great niece up from a nap, and was optimistic with helping her to be bathroom trained. While she sat comfortably on her potty chair in my upstairs bathroom, I decided I would take a quick shower next to her. I stood under the warm spray, feeling the water run down me as I listened to her chant parts of a song we had sang together from the radio, a day earlier. Just as I felt parts of me relax, under the tepid water, I heard a my dog Share, who was also shut in the bathroom with us, begin to bark loudly, towards the locked bathroom door. Before I even had time to wonder what had alarmed her, what seem to resemble the sound of a wall being knocked down, impelled my own fears. With in an instant I shut the water off. Frantically I grabbed for a robe to put around me, and with what ever calmness I had available, I insisted my little niece to stay put, until I came for her. Fear enveloping me, I opened the bathroom door. Knowing I had to anatomize what was happening, swiftly I moved down the hall. Share my small Pomeranian bolted ahead of me, as if it was her job to investigate. She flew down the stairs growling. By the time I had made it half way down the steps her barking ceased, and so did the shaking of my walls. Just as I reached the bottom of the stair case I peered around the corner, only to see my dog laying on her back, silent and motionless. Seeing her lay there, legs stiff and in the air held me captive. Panic flooded me as I began to look up. A cross the room from me now stood an intruder. Hardly aware that I had little to defend myself with, I began screaming and wildly lunging toward him. The strength that came from me was more than my own. Driven by sheer panic that he had killed my dog, and meant harm to me and my beautiful niece, was enough for me to act in whatever way I needed, to keep us safe and to survive this invasion. He fled.
Some times our minds have a way to help us cope with traumatic events, by allowing us to forget pieces. While we remember the facts, details slowly detach themselves. I can remember screaming and pushing. But I can not recall my intruders face, or if he shoved back. I vividly remember seeing him in my house with in feet of me. I remember he had dark short hair but everything else about him seemed average and faded. I can still see the busted frame around my front door, from using great force to enter. My steel door hardly showed a dent from the break in, but the actual frame itself laid so shattered in pieces on the floor of my entry way that the door could not close after his retreat.
My locked dead bolt had did its job in keeping my door locked, but in doing so also managed to take the door frame down with the fierce intrusion. I will forever see the image of my dog as she laid motionless and the way she shook after coming too.
I have to share I shunned at the awkwardness I felt, writing this down for the first time. Feeling that if I exposed my story, I may only make myself a victim again. Or that in someway I would be scrutinized for my reactions. For in truth, deep down inside I do need to let go of the guilt, and the fear I have cradled inside of me for years. Guilt because I often wondered, did I in someway draw the attention to myself, as was suggested to me by a few people, because of my appearance and recent entry into the dating world. Secondly fear because my intruder was never caught. He broke in through the front door, mid morning, as though he was not afraid to be caught, and also fear because I could not ID him. One true thing that I had held on to over the years however, was, that I had managed to chase this man away, wet and clothed in only a small robe, that my dog had only been knocked out and not killed. What could have been a thousand times worse ended with out bodily harm to myself or my niece.
My niece has no real memory of that November morning. By the time her own fears drove her to seek out my where a bouts we were alone again, and waiting for the police. I now live in a different home. I have no issues with being home alone or showering. I hang on to the fact we were very lucky that day and try not to dwell on why it happened at all.
So as with every Thanksgiving I give thanks to the grace that surrounds me that morning and every morning.
Friday, November 8, 2013
lunch with a stranger
Almost instantly I felt his eyes linger in my direction as I approached the doorway. His smile widening as I drew nearer. I was not sure at first if it even was me that had captivated him so intensely. Turning my head slightly to look around me, I noticed, I was the only one he was looking at, as I stood alone in the doorway. His attention appeared to be totally focused on me. Slowly I stepped forward, his gaze followed up my thin silhouette as I moved through the thresh hold. I could not ignore his eyes as they traveled upward slowly, toward my face, pausing occasionally at intervals, as though he was savoring every inch of what he saw. Not hesitating to linger his gaze where he pleased. I casually tossed my hair off my shoulders so it hung down my back. A nervous smile now beginning to form on my lips as I continued to walk in his direction. Keeping his eyes fixed on me he shifted his tall lean
body in my direction, almost as though he was eagerly waiting to
greet me.
I felt remarkably confident today in my new dress and black patent heeled sandals. I had chosen the black sleeveless fitted jersey frock that stopped midway above my knees, hoping to create a sleek combination of pretty and elegant. Liking the way it hugged at my thin hips while also emphasizing my trim waist. Scooped just low enough between my breast to allow a hint of imagination. Allowing me to draw attention with out asking for trouble. I could not remember the last time I had even dressed up to go out anywhere that did not include my sons, and a pair of skinny jeans tucked in cowboy boots. For the first time in almost a month I had an afternoon to myself. A day free of schedules and caring for my sons. Time set a side to reward myself. Unfortunately finding a companion available did not fall into my plans. Dressed up and feeling especially good about my appearance I had decided to treat myself to lunch out. Having finally found the courage to dine alone, I entered a quaint little establishment I had visited once before in the past with a gentlemen caller. I had originally hoped that the day would have involved me spending time with a special man in my life. Regretfully due to conflict in schedules, and a difference in the understanding of parental time off, that,was just not going to happen today. So on this sunny afternoon, dressed like I might have a life outside of raising children, I ventured out alone.
Slowly I could see this new stranger part his lips to speak to me. I felt my heart quicken as I moved forward unable to avoid passing directly in front of him. What could he possibly want to say to me I wondered. Our eyes locked, meeting momentarily, as I passed by at the bar, in hopes to locate a small table near a window. It was almost to undeniable to not sense his instant attraction to me. "You are very beautiful" he told me with out hesitating in a low soft voice. As he took a step forward towards me I could feel his eyes sweep over me once again, stopping briefly at my legs and then swiftly moving back up to my face. I smiled shyly, unable to ignore the attention he offered, and now beginning to feel a slight blush cascade across my cheeks, while he began apologizing for speaking so forwardly. As though he sensed my uncomfortableness with his flirtatious advance he confessed quickly it was a thought he had meant to keep to himself but simply found me very alluring. Now that I was with in a few feet of him I felt almost certain he could not be more than in his very early forties. I wondered momentarily how old he thought I might be. Giving me even more reason to smile. I felt myself grow more intrigued by the fact, that for whatever reason, he had the courage to be so forward. Politely and almost a bit flirtatiously I heard myself giggle and then thank him. Not sure what to do next I told him to have a nice day and began to continue walking to the other side of the room hoping to locate a seat. As I stepped passed him I could not help but notice the aroma of his cologne. He did smell remarkably good. I fought the urge to look back for just a second, knowing perfectly well that would only let him feed on the fact that I might be a bit interested too. He was very handsome. Dark thick smooth hair covered his head, carefully trimmed just above the collar. A slight soul patch resting just below his lower lip, which held a dazzling smile. Yes, no doubt definite eye candy. In all honesty, secretly I did find this handsome stranger to be a bit distracting, light exchanges of greetings could not be harmful, I reasoned, to my self . After all, I was not married, not even engaged. No jewel bedazzled my hand in promise of anything. In fact the L-word had not even so much as escaped once between me and my current heart interest.
It seemed odd to me though that even as a mature female I could be made to feel awkward and even a bit self conscience about my appearance, hell, or even my sexuality in public, by the opposite sex. I had grown accustom to meeting new men and sharing light conversation. Having re-entered the dating world 9 years ago, casual dating was a past time I had enjoyed. I actually had become quite comfortable with first encounters. Relationships on the other hand, well, that was a bit difficult and altogether different story. However, this was not the first time I had heard a compliment by someone so forward, but it did touch me today. I had really hoped I could have been sharing my parental weekend off with someone that was special to me. Someone I had been seeing and hoped was growing more meaningful. I was desperately feeling I was missing something this weekend and quite frankly the attention I was now receiving helped me to see that even more.
Just across from the bar I noticed an open table in a corner. It seemed no sooner had I spotted the table and then it was claimed by a young couple. My attention was swiftly drawn back to the bar where this handsome stranger stood, still somewhat drawn to me. I stood for a mere second void of all thought. Quickly I was brought back to the now, when his voice verified what I had discovered myself, the place was quite full. However, next to him and the stool he had been sitting on, was another open chair. His smile was beckoning me to sit down. I was hungry and really not wanting to stand alone, waiting for something to open. I did what any alive, red blooded, independent single female would do when approached by an attractive male in a hopeless situation. I accepted his invitation to join him for lunch.
Do you want to know more????
I felt remarkably confident today in my new dress and black patent heeled sandals. I had chosen the black sleeveless fitted jersey frock that stopped midway above my knees, hoping to create a sleek combination of pretty and elegant. Liking the way it hugged at my thin hips while also emphasizing my trim waist. Scooped just low enough between my breast to allow a hint of imagination. Allowing me to draw attention with out asking for trouble. I could not remember the last time I had even dressed up to go out anywhere that did not include my sons, and a pair of skinny jeans tucked in cowboy boots. For the first time in almost a month I had an afternoon to myself. A day free of schedules and caring for my sons. Time set a side to reward myself. Unfortunately finding a companion available did not fall into my plans. Dressed up and feeling especially good about my appearance I had decided to treat myself to lunch out. Having finally found the courage to dine alone, I entered a quaint little establishment I had visited once before in the past with a gentlemen caller. I had originally hoped that the day would have involved me spending time with a special man in my life. Regretfully due to conflict in schedules, and a difference in the understanding of parental time off, that,was just not going to happen today. So on this sunny afternoon, dressed like I might have a life outside of raising children, I ventured out alone.
Slowly I could see this new stranger part his lips to speak to me. I felt my heart quicken as I moved forward unable to avoid passing directly in front of him. What could he possibly want to say to me I wondered. Our eyes locked, meeting momentarily, as I passed by at the bar, in hopes to locate a small table near a window. It was almost to undeniable to not sense his instant attraction to me. "You are very beautiful" he told me with out hesitating in a low soft voice. As he took a step forward towards me I could feel his eyes sweep over me once again, stopping briefly at my legs and then swiftly moving back up to my face. I smiled shyly, unable to ignore the attention he offered, and now beginning to feel a slight blush cascade across my cheeks, while he began apologizing for speaking so forwardly. As though he sensed my uncomfortableness with his flirtatious advance he confessed quickly it was a thought he had meant to keep to himself but simply found me very alluring. Now that I was with in a few feet of him I felt almost certain he could not be more than in his very early forties. I wondered momentarily how old he thought I might be. Giving me even more reason to smile. I felt myself grow more intrigued by the fact, that for whatever reason, he had the courage to be so forward. Politely and almost a bit flirtatiously I heard myself giggle and then thank him. Not sure what to do next I told him to have a nice day and began to continue walking to the other side of the room hoping to locate a seat. As I stepped passed him I could not help but notice the aroma of his cologne. He did smell remarkably good. I fought the urge to look back for just a second, knowing perfectly well that would only let him feed on the fact that I might be a bit interested too. He was very handsome. Dark thick smooth hair covered his head, carefully trimmed just above the collar. A slight soul patch resting just below his lower lip, which held a dazzling smile. Yes, no doubt definite eye candy. In all honesty, secretly I did find this handsome stranger to be a bit distracting, light exchanges of greetings could not be harmful, I reasoned, to my self . After all, I was not married, not even engaged. No jewel bedazzled my hand in promise of anything. In fact the L-word had not even so much as escaped once between me and my current heart interest.
It seemed odd to me though that even as a mature female I could be made to feel awkward and even a bit self conscience about my appearance, hell, or even my sexuality in public, by the opposite sex. I had grown accustom to meeting new men and sharing light conversation. Having re-entered the dating world 9 years ago, casual dating was a past time I had enjoyed. I actually had become quite comfortable with first encounters. Relationships on the other hand, well, that was a bit difficult and altogether different story. However, this was not the first time I had heard a compliment by someone so forward, but it did touch me today. I had really hoped I could have been sharing my parental weekend off with someone that was special to me. Someone I had been seeing and hoped was growing more meaningful. I was desperately feeling I was missing something this weekend and quite frankly the attention I was now receiving helped me to see that even more.
Just across from the bar I noticed an open table in a corner. It seemed no sooner had I spotted the table and then it was claimed by a young couple. My attention was swiftly drawn back to the bar where this handsome stranger stood, still somewhat drawn to me. I stood for a mere second void of all thought. Quickly I was brought back to the now, when his voice verified what I had discovered myself, the place was quite full. However, next to him and the stool he had been sitting on, was another open chair. His smile was beckoning me to sit down. I was hungry and really not wanting to stand alone, waiting for something to open. I did what any alive, red blooded, independent single female would do when approached by an attractive male in a hopeless situation. I accepted his invitation to join him for lunch.
Do you want to know more????
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