Today is D-Day for millions of us. For years we have had been stereotyped as "lazy", "bon-bon eaters", "ass sitters".
When in reality, we were only escaping reality for an hour Monday through Friday. To join families that were, while imaginary, still like us in so many ways. And they tackled some of the very same problems that happen in everyday life.
After today, they will no longer be joining us in fantasy-land. Some of us have been watching since we were children. And some of our parents were still "kids" themselves when it first aired.
Today, we will say our final good-byes to the Mannings, the Buchanans, the Evans clan and to One Life To Live.
For 43 years, Viki, Asa, Dorian, the Woleks and a host of other characters in it's over-four-decades run came on to our TV screens. They made us laugh. They made us cry. Sometimes, they made us angry, too. But for an hour, their world was my world, and vice versa.
One Life To Live, as well as All My Children were what I used to escape my everyday life. Be it at it's regular time, or from my recording it on VHS tape to watch during the weekend.
It gave me a "normalcy" in a world that for me, was completely turned upside down due to the passing of my mother in 1989. During the summer, with exception to an episode here and there due to trips and whatnot, I watched religiously every single day. From 2-3 PM, Monday through Friday. Even my Nana got in to them. Mainly AMC. But it was something BOTH of us could relate to and talk about.
Since day one, I have always been a Bo Buchanan fan. Not so much a Bo and Nora fan, per say. And in all honesty, I liked the pairing of him and Paige the best (the second Paige of the three actresses that portrayed the character). Poor Bo. He's been through SO very much. And SO many loves and marriages. But all in all, he had ALWAYS remained true to himself and to those around him. Especially his "Pa", Asa Buchanan.
I wasn't around for the beginning of OLTL. But I am here for it's end. But like many other fans, it will ALWAYS be in my heart, in my memory and a topic I'll talk about from time to time.
For it may be a show to some people. But for myself, and oh so many others, it was an escape, and a place in time of Television where you could INDEED relate to someone, no matter who the character was.
Art imitates life. OLTL Creator, Agnes Nixon speaking of fake Soap, "Fraternity Row", while in reality, speaking of her baby, "One Life To Live"...
The embedding is disabled for the next one that I wanted to show you, but you can view it by clicking on THIS LINK (Viki's Voice-Over: "Soap Opera's Are About Families"). Again, in reality, Viki's portrayer, Erika Slezak, is speaking about OLTL and how us soap fans view our shows.
Clint Buchanan's revelation about "family" always being there, no matter what, can be seen under THIS LINK. As is watching Rex, Gigi, and Shane Balsam leave for England so that Shane can attend a prestigious Art School.
In 2007, Asa Buchanan's portrayer, Phil Carey had passed away. With the news of his death in real life, the show killed off Asa as well. He took no crap. Not on the show, and not in real life. A tribute video...
Also, the first "Clint Buchanan", actor Clint Richie had passed away after a "routine" surgical procedure. His tribute..
One Life To Live opening credits throughout the years of the show's run...
Thank you, Agnes Nixon, for creating a place for us that needed a helping hand in addressing problems of the world, and bringing awareness to them, and even a means to find how to help.
Thank you for giving me a place to call "home" in a world of fantasy, that in many ways over the years, mirrored my reality of the world around me. You had given me a place to venture out of my life of sadness, grief and depression, to smile a little bit, and even cry with the characters.
To the wonderful actors past and present, thank you, to EVERY single one of you, for your heart, dedication and LONG hours on sets to bring your fans a quality show and bringing out your characters in such a way, that they were true extensions of yourselves. And for making them BELIEVABLE, as well as relate-able.
To my fellow fans, I want to say thank you to you all as well. We have been able to give one another some WONDERFUL conversations. And even some civil arguments (LOL!).
But all in all, I will truly miss talking with some of my friends about what just happened to Clint, or Jessica. Or talk about how goofy David Vickers is being. Or how Todd Manning again has pulled a fast one and gotten away with something that in the real world, would have him locked up so fast, that your head would spin.
Thank you One Life To Live, because you have given SO much to us in your 43 years. I can't wait to see you all in future acting endeavors. But I will truly and honestly miss you all coming on to my Television screen from 2:00 til 3.
My work is ORIGINAL...Don't be a thief.
What is written in this blog, is of the author's own originality. It contains the sole views, thoughts, and stories of this blog's author.
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Friday, January 13, 2012
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
For My Dear "Sister-Friend", Angel...
In 1989, my mother had a massive stroke. Amazingly, it didn't kill her right then and there. Nor did the hours-long lack of treatment (it struck overnight as my dad and I slept).
That was on October 1st, 1989, when my father had found my mother in her favorite chair, not able to speak, barely could hear, and was blind in one eye. Also, her entire right side was paralyzed.
For 28 days, my mother suffered. Unbearable for her to endure. Unbearable for me to watch. Especially when she and I had more in common than I had ever thought that we could. Before her move to a so-called rehabilitation center, she had to have a trache placed in, due to the muscles in her lungs spasming and filling with fluid due to pneumonia.
So many times, with her good hand (her left side), she succeeded in pulling out her nasal-gastric feeding tube.It was so bad, they finally had to restrain her arm as to keep the tube in to nourish her.
But I knew then, even at the age 12, that mother wanted out. She didn't want to live like that. She didn't want US to live with her being like that. She wanted to let nature take it's course and release her. I think she KNEW that no matter what, the affects of the stroke were going to kill her in the end.
On that 28th and final day, after all of the denials of my father of her not getting better, and saying she WILL, I think something inside of ME gave me the wisdom of timing and of knowing what was the RIGHT thing to do.
As Dad went off to get a soda or some coffee, and waiting for him to be out of earshot, being you had to yell at the top of your lungs for her to hear you, I told my mother something that I NEVER in my young mind or heart would ever think I'd have to...
"It's okay Mom. WE will be okay. I'll be alright. I know you don't want to do this anymore, and you want to go home. If that IS what you want, then it's okay to let go and be with Grandma and Grandpa".
Within not even a 24 hour time frame, after I had said those words to her, Dad got that dreaded call from the Rehab Center. Something happened and she stopped breathing. He and his mom rushed to the receiving hospital that she was taken to by ambulance.
All in all, between the center, the ambulance and the ER, they all worked to save my mother for about an hour.
They called her death just about a mere five minutes before Dad and Nana had arrived.
She went Home. Just as she wanted to. No longer to suffer or to lay there, not LIVING what was to had become her "life.
Now, my friend Angel and her sisters have been faced with a similar scenario that scarcely mimics mine. Only, I am an only child. And I didn't deny to myself what "home" truly meant.
Like I had told Angel on her blog post, and in a comment within one of her FaceBook status posts, it is NOT a weak thing to finally realize the realities of the end of someone's life, and wish to not prolong their suffering. It is not a decision that is EVER made lightly, and often times, not made sooner because WE don't wish to be without the person that we will be losing to death.
It takes an insurmountable amount of strength, courage, and most of all, UNCONDITIONAL love to make an end-of-life decision to let your loved one die with dignity and the least amount of medical restraint as possible.
The clues are there, being provided by the one that is suffering. But sometimes, because of our emotions and the need to NOT want to let go, we don't always see them. Or we do, but refuse to admit that they are there. And that's normal. And it's OKAY.
Please, I implore ALL that read this post, to MAKE KNOWN your final wishes. Have a Living Will drawn up and let your family and close friends know what YOUR wishes are. My mother, and Angel's mother did NOT do this.
In the end, we were the ones to have to carry that horrendous weight upon our shoulders to make that life ending, and life altering decision. To let go. To let our mothers find peace and rest. NO child, young, old or in between should have to endure as we had to.
Angel, my dear, sweet sister who literally wears her name on her sleeve...
Know that while heartbreaking, difficult and emotionally-draining, what you and your sisters decided to do, had taken A LOT of courage and strength. What you did was a wonderful showing of UNCONDITIONAL love, and a heart-felt final gift of that love. Never (any of you) feel that you were weak in mind, or in heart of coming to that conclusion. Because it is the farthest thing from the truth, my dear sister.
SIDE NOTE;
As of this post being completed, I went to Angel's FaceBook page, to sadly find that her mother has had her sedation scaled back and letting her breath more on her own. It's just now a matter of time to see where things will go from there. It's in her mother's hands, and most importantly, in God's will.. May the family find comfort in the Lord Jesus through this sad and difficult time.
That was on October 1st, 1989, when my father had found my mother in her favorite chair, not able to speak, barely could hear, and was blind in one eye. Also, her entire right side was paralyzed.
For 28 days, my mother suffered. Unbearable for her to endure. Unbearable for me to watch. Especially when she and I had more in common than I had ever thought that we could. Before her move to a so-called rehabilitation center, she had to have a trache placed in, due to the muscles in her lungs spasming and filling with fluid due to pneumonia.
So many times, with her good hand (her left side), she succeeded in pulling out her nasal-gastric feeding tube.It was so bad, they finally had to restrain her arm as to keep the tube in to nourish her.
But I knew then, even at the age 12, that mother wanted out. She didn't want to live like that. She didn't want US to live with her being like that. She wanted to let nature take it's course and release her. I think she KNEW that no matter what, the affects of the stroke were going to kill her in the end.
On that 28th and final day, after all of the denials of my father of her not getting better, and saying she WILL, I think something inside of ME gave me the wisdom of timing and of knowing what was the RIGHT thing to do.
As Dad went off to get a soda or some coffee, and waiting for him to be out of earshot, being you had to yell at the top of your lungs for her to hear you, I told my mother something that I NEVER in my young mind or heart would ever think I'd have to...
"It's okay Mom. WE will be okay. I'll be alright. I know you don't want to do this anymore, and you want to go home. If that IS what you want, then it's okay to let go and be with Grandma and Grandpa".
Within not even a 24 hour time frame, after I had said those words to her, Dad got that dreaded call from the Rehab Center. Something happened and she stopped breathing. He and his mom rushed to the receiving hospital that she was taken to by ambulance.
All in all, between the center, the ambulance and the ER, they all worked to save my mother for about an hour.
They called her death just about a mere five minutes before Dad and Nana had arrived.
She went Home. Just as she wanted to. No longer to suffer or to lay there, not LIVING what was to had become her "life.
Now, my friend Angel and her sisters have been faced with a similar scenario that scarcely mimics mine. Only, I am an only child. And I didn't deny to myself what "home" truly meant.
Like I had told Angel on her blog post, and in a comment within one of her FaceBook status posts, it is NOT a weak thing to finally realize the realities of the end of someone's life, and wish to not prolong their suffering. It is not a decision that is EVER made lightly, and often times, not made sooner because WE don't wish to be without the person that we will be losing to death.
It takes an insurmountable amount of strength, courage, and most of all, UNCONDITIONAL love to make an end-of-life decision to let your loved one die with dignity and the least amount of medical restraint as possible.
The clues are there, being provided by the one that is suffering. But sometimes, because of our emotions and the need to NOT want to let go, we don't always see them. Or we do, but refuse to admit that they are there. And that's normal. And it's OKAY.
Please, I implore ALL that read this post, to MAKE KNOWN your final wishes. Have a Living Will drawn up and let your family and close friends know what YOUR wishes are. My mother, and Angel's mother did NOT do this.
In the end, we were the ones to have to carry that horrendous weight upon our shoulders to make that life ending, and life altering decision. To let go. To let our mothers find peace and rest. NO child, young, old or in between should have to endure as we had to.
Angel, my dear, sweet sister who literally wears her name on her sleeve...
Know that while heartbreaking, difficult and emotionally-draining, what you and your sisters decided to do, had taken A LOT of courage and strength. What you did was a wonderful showing of UNCONDITIONAL love, and a heart-felt final gift of that love. Never (any of you) feel that you were weak in mind, or in heart of coming to that conclusion. Because it is the farthest thing from the truth, my dear sister.
SIDE NOTE;
As of this post being completed, I went to Angel's FaceBook page, to sadly find that her mother has had her sedation scaled back and letting her breath more on her own. It's just now a matter of time to see where things will go from there. It's in her mother's hands, and most importantly, in God's will.. May the family find comfort in the Lord Jesus through this sad and difficult time.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
I'm Not, I can't
I act happy. But I'm not.
I sound excited. But I'm not.
I say that I'm ready to. But I'm not.
I say that it's indeed time. But for me, it's not.
The tears I try to choke back and hide lay beneath the surface. Like a raging water fall. It feels like the first time all over again. In what seems like the not-too-distant past.
She is growing up. I can't stop it.
She is maturing. I can't stop it.
Before I know it, she will be out in the vast world on her own. Not too many years left. And the years that are bygone, as are the ones to come, have passed or will pass as a thief in the night, all too quickly.
Now, Middle School years are upon us. She is no longer a little girl. Not yet a "young woman", but caught in the middle.
The smile, chuckles and the silly exclamations from me are just a facade. My way of coping with the realities of life as a mother to a girl who is growing rapidly before my eyes.
Inside, I rage. My heart hurts. I wonder if so far I have REALLY given it my all to her, and indeed gave her the tools she will need for the next chapter of her life.
In the end though, I can't let her go. I'm not ready.
I sound excited. But I'm not.
I say that I'm ready to. But I'm not.
I say that it's indeed time. But for me, it's not.
The tears I try to choke back and hide lay beneath the surface. Like a raging water fall. It feels like the first time all over again. In what seems like the not-too-distant past.
She is growing up. I can't stop it.
She is maturing. I can't stop it.
Before I know it, she will be out in the vast world on her own. Not too many years left. And the years that are bygone, as are the ones to come, have passed or will pass as a thief in the night, all too quickly.
Now, Middle School years are upon us. She is no longer a little girl. Not yet a "young woman", but caught in the middle.
The smile, chuckles and the silly exclamations from me are just a facade. My way of coping with the realities of life as a mother to a girl who is growing rapidly before my eyes.
Inside, I rage. My heart hurts. I wonder if so far I have REALLY given it my all to her, and indeed gave her the tools she will need for the next chapter of her life.
In the end though, I can't let her go. I'm not ready.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
This May Piss You People Off.
I love my ABC Daytime. A LOT. I don't want to see "All My Children" and "One Life To Live" go off the air. It's two hours of my day, if I'm home that is, to sit and have TV time for ME. Not a time to argue over who gets what channel. MY time.
I'd love to see them spared and kept on ABC, or even have them moved to another network. I don't want to see Tad "the cad" Martin, or Bo (the "do gooder") Buchanan leave my life. But, that's what it is..Life.
So many fans are pouring their hearts and souls in to saving these two DECADES-long-running soap operas. And I say FIGHT!
But...
I think it's sad that people are putting MORE of their time, energy, efforts, hearts, souls and even MONEY in to "Save Our Soaps" protests, Tweets and blog/FaceBook postings.
Why? Because HELLO! *REAL* life is happening all around you, people. In the last almost 72 hours, OVER 200 people in three states have been killed. Their homes destroyed. Entire towns demolished.
States of Emergency are being phoned in. People are being rescued, or sadddr yet, "recovered" from the rubble which was once their home or business.
Where are all of you "soap-ers" now? I don't see you Tweeting or adding posts to your blogs or other sites in support of REAL LIFE people who REALLY need YOUR help.
I don't see you "Re-Tweeting" news reports, weather reports. All you *seem to* care about is saving television shows that just lost another about 150 of 200 fans, thanks to ravaging and KILLER storms.
Read the following captions from a CNN article, where yes, now even MY state has reported casualties... (From Breaking News via CNN)
"Entire neighborhoods were leveled and hundreds of thousands of people were without power. As of 4 a.m. Thursday, Alabama Power said 363,511 customers were without power, and as of 8 a.m. Georgia Power said 52,000 customers were without power. Bentley estimated as many as half a million to a million people were without power statewide."
""This could be one of the most devastating tornado outbreaks in the nation's history by the time it's over," CNN Meteorologist Sean Morris said."
"President Barack Obama announced late Wednesday he had approved Bentley's request for emergency federal assistance, including search and rescue support."
"While we may not know the extent of the damage for days, we will continue to monitor these severe storms across the country and stand ready to continue to help the people of Alabama and all citizens affected by these storms," Obama said in a statement."
""It literally obliterated blocks and blocks of the city," Maddox said. He told CNN Thursday morning the devastation was "unparalleled ... the city's infrastructure has been absolutely decimated.""
Get the idea now? I suggest you read the article in its entirety and get the full view of this tragic event. Maybe then, television and soap operas won't be AS important. Real people with REAL problems will open your eyes and give you a new perspective on what is REALLY important...
For me, it's not about television shows.
I'd love to see them spared and kept on ABC, or even have them moved to another network. I don't want to see Tad "the cad" Martin, or Bo (the "do gooder") Buchanan leave my life. But, that's what it is..Life.
So many fans are pouring their hearts and souls in to saving these two DECADES-long-running soap operas. And I say FIGHT!
But...
I think it's sad that people are putting MORE of their time, energy, efforts, hearts, souls and even MONEY in to "Save Our Soaps" protests, Tweets and blog/FaceBook postings.
Why? Because HELLO! *REAL* life is happening all around you, people. In the last almost 72 hours, OVER 200 people in three states have been killed. Their homes destroyed. Entire towns demolished.
States of Emergency are being phoned in. People are being rescued, or sadddr yet, "recovered" from the rubble which was once their home or business.
Where are all of you "soap-ers" now? I don't see you Tweeting or adding posts to your blogs or other sites in support of REAL LIFE people who REALLY need YOUR help.
I don't see you "Re-Tweeting" news reports, weather reports. All you *seem to* care about is saving television shows that just lost another about 150 of 200 fans, thanks to ravaging and KILLER storms.
Read the following captions from a CNN article, where yes, now even MY state has reported casualties... (From Breaking News via CNN)
"Entire neighborhoods were leveled and hundreds of thousands of people were without power. As of 4 a.m. Thursday, Alabama Power said 363,511 customers were without power, and as of 8 a.m. Georgia Power said 52,000 customers were without power. Bentley estimated as many as half a million to a million people were without power statewide."
""This could be one of the most devastating tornado outbreaks in the nation's history by the time it's over," CNN Meteorologist Sean Morris said."
"President Barack Obama announced late Wednesday he had approved Bentley's request for emergency federal assistance, including search and rescue support."
"While we may not know the extent of the damage for days, we will continue to monitor these severe storms across the country and stand ready to continue to help the people of Alabama and all citizens affected by these storms," Obama said in a statement."
""It literally obliterated blocks and blocks of the city," Maddox said. He told CNN Thursday morning the devastation was "unparalleled ... the city's infrastructure has been absolutely decimated.""
Get the idea now? I suggest you read the article in its entirety and get the full view of this tragic event. Maybe then, television and soap operas won't be AS important. Real people with REAL problems will open your eyes and give you a new perspective on what is REALLY important...
For me, it's not about television shows.
Friday, March 11, 2011
I *HAD* A 'Fab Friend' a few Friday's Ago
It's that time again over at For The Love Of Blogs for Fab Friends Friday.
While I relish in participating normally, I had contemplated for most of this week as to whether I should even write this post or not, seeing as so much in my family's life is going on. But here it goes..
There's a friend of mine from a good while back that has seemed to have distanced themselves from me and a few of our mutual friends. We met about three years ago via an internet website. From there, we were practically inseparable, going and joining other sites together as we found them and figured the other would enjoy being there as well.
But in the recent weeks of past, if not about a month or even longer, seeing as I'm really not keeping count this person has strayed and basically "dropped" our friendship off on the wayside.
Yes, both of us have a lot going on. But I have tried to get "something" from the person to acknowledge that I indeed exist in their world. We both are on FaceBook together. But alas, my words fell on "deaf eyes".
I'd noticed the change after this person started writing in their blog of things that NORMALLY, I'd never see from this person, seeing as in all honesty, was very highly out of context for the blog's "theme of writing" that I had come to know and even respect.
But now, this person does nothing but writing prompts and blog carnivals at least 95% of the time. No longer do I see REAL substance in the writing. So I had decided after somethings that were written of a "personal" nature and more than my eye's fair share of writing prompts, to un-follow their blog.
And then I finally stopped following the person on Twitter as well, thanks to never being "spoken" to anymore over there in any way, shape or form. Between both places, this "friend" has yet to even acknowledge that I am no longer on either of their lists as a follower. Or realized we are no longer even "speaking" with one another.
This past week has apparently been REALLY hard on both of us. But unlike them, I made it no "secret" as to what has happened within my family. Not on here, Twitter or FaceBook.
The ONE person that I thought that I could count on, the one I was SURE would be there for me, my husband and our children was nowhere. Not to say sorry to my kids for their loss or to my husband who lost his beloved grandfather.
Yes, I did write something on their wall. But to no avail. And because I didn't know until after the fact of what they are going through, what I had written in some ways I wish I didn't. But then again...
Needless to say, even that post I made on their wall went unnoticed and/or just ignored of acknowledgment.
This person KNOWS I don't do the "one-sided, one-way-street, all give-and-no get" type of friendship.
This person talks with a certain other friend on all these sites ALL of the time. Acknowledging their posts on their page, and converses on their own page when said friend posts there.
If that's how it's going to be, then I think that this person just needs to tell me that our friendship is over. Because obviously I'm not running with the right "clique" or the "cool crowd" of bloggers. Or on Twitter for that matter.
I'm honestly DONE trying.
While I relish in participating normally, I had contemplated for most of this week as to whether I should even write this post or not, seeing as so much in my family's life is going on. But here it goes..
There's a friend of mine from a good while back that has seemed to have distanced themselves from me and a few of our mutual friends. We met about three years ago via an internet website. From there, we were practically inseparable, going and joining other sites together as we found them and figured the other would enjoy being there as well.
But in the recent weeks of past, if not about a month or even longer, seeing as I'm really not keeping count this person has strayed and basically "dropped" our friendship off on the wayside.
Yes, both of us have a lot going on. But I have tried to get "something" from the person to acknowledge that I indeed exist in their world. We both are on FaceBook together. But alas, my words fell on "deaf eyes".
I'd noticed the change after this person started writing in their blog of things that NORMALLY, I'd never see from this person, seeing as in all honesty, was very highly out of context for the blog's "theme of writing" that I had come to know and even respect.
But now, this person does nothing but writing prompts and blog carnivals at least 95% of the time. No longer do I see REAL substance in the writing. So I had decided after somethings that were written of a "personal" nature and more than my eye's fair share of writing prompts, to un-follow their blog.
And then I finally stopped following the person on Twitter as well, thanks to never being "spoken" to anymore over there in any way, shape or form. Between both places, this "friend" has yet to even acknowledge that I am no longer on either of their lists as a follower. Or realized we are no longer even "speaking" with one another.
This past week has apparently been REALLY hard on both of us. But unlike them, I made it no "secret" as to what has happened within my family. Not on here, Twitter or FaceBook.
The ONE person that I thought that I could count on, the one I was SURE would be there for me, my husband and our children was nowhere. Not to say sorry to my kids for their loss or to my husband who lost his beloved grandfather.
Yes, I did write something on their wall. But to no avail. And because I didn't know until after the fact of what they are going through, what I had written in some ways I wish I didn't. But then again...
Needless to say, even that post I made on their wall went unnoticed and/or just ignored of acknowledgment.
This person KNOWS I don't do the "one-sided, one-way-street, all give-and-no get" type of friendship.
This person talks with a certain other friend on all these sites ALL of the time. Acknowledging their posts on their page, and converses on their own page when said friend posts there.
If that's how it's going to be, then I think that this person just needs to tell me that our friendship is over. Because obviously I'm not running with the right "clique" or the "cool crowd" of bloggers. Or on Twitter for that matter.
I'm honestly DONE trying.
Friday, February 4, 2011
TGIF!! Join me & my FAB FRIENDS.
As a child, I had to struggle with being "different". Never mind the buck teeth or the (boy like) short hair cut (thanks MOM!). My kind of "different" was well..different.
My outward, physical appearance made me "look" different. I was at the time (legally) deemed handicapped, due to the nature of the medical problems I had as a kid, and the fact that I had to carry specialized medical equipment with me for emergency basis.
What was my "difference"? I had a tracheostomy from the time of my birth, up until almost the age of thirteen. It looked like the following graphic (or at least pretty close to this one)..
Now I'm sure as you can tell, with the way elementary school children CAN be, that I wasn't the most "popular" kid on the playground. I took it all in stride. But what friends I did in fact have, they were REAL as well as TRUE friends.
They looked beyond the trache and had seen just another kid. Just another girl. Just another tom-boy. I liked to do many of the same things as they did. Imaginative play. Riding bikes. Coloring, swinging, and all the other cool, crazy, fun things that all the other kids liked to do.
While I have ALWAYS valued my childhood friends and their friendships, one always has, and most certainly always will stand out in my mind.
Danielle. Though we all called her "Dolly". She and I were like peas and carrots (thanks "Forest Gump"!). Pretty much, we were inseparable. We did EVERYTHING together. At home, at school.
But she too was "disabled". But unlike me, her disability was hidden. Dolly had a Congenital Heart Defect, and a hole in her heart at birth, that they did patch. But in later years, her heart began to go in to Congestive Heart Failure. We were about six and seven years old at the time.
Eventually, Dolly had to be placed on the National Transplant List. And like now, of course, children's organs, especially hearts and lungs were hard to come by. But finally, her waiting was over and she was able to receive a new heart.
The transplant its self was a success. And yes, I knew, even at the tender age of six, that my BFF was really sick and had to get a new heart. My parents didn't hide it from me.
But, within a few hours of the transplant, her heart was starting to be rejected by her body. And the doctors did EVERYTHING in their power to get her heart to settle and stabilize, even going as far as getting her right back on the list.
Sadly within the first twenty-four hours post-op, Dolly's body couldn't take anymore of the beating that the rejection was placing on her and her heart. She died at the tender and innocent age of seven years old.
For three years, we were like peas and carrots. Side by side. But this is one thing I could not do with her. I couldn't walk her to the Gates. When my mom told me she passed, at first I didn't believe it. I ran out of the house, next door to Dolly's house. As soon as I walked in and had seen all the sad faces and the crying, I knew then that really my friend was gone.
To this day, I still think of her from time to time, and the friendship we had shared. And all the crazy things we would do. And tucked away, up in a box within my attic, I have the last picture that we had taken together, not too long before her death.
So, take my advice...VALUE your friends and your friendships every single day. Don't take for granted what there is in your life. Because one day, they could suddenly be snatched from your life. You never, EVER know what life is going to throw at you or at them at any given moment.
Now, first of all, add your link to my Linky Tool down below and share your blogs with us. And then, head on over to meet some more of my Fab Friends over at For The Love Of Blogs by clicking on the "Fab Friends Friday" button.
My outward, physical appearance made me "look" different. I was at the time (legally) deemed handicapped, due to the nature of the medical problems I had as a kid, and the fact that I had to carry specialized medical equipment with me for emergency basis.
What was my "difference"? I had a tracheostomy from the time of my birth, up until almost the age of thirteen. It looked like the following graphic (or at least pretty close to this one)..
Now I'm sure as you can tell, with the way elementary school children CAN be, that I wasn't the most "popular" kid on the playground. I took it all in stride. But what friends I did in fact have, they were REAL as well as TRUE friends.
They looked beyond the trache and had seen just another kid. Just another girl. Just another tom-boy. I liked to do many of the same things as they did. Imaginative play. Riding bikes. Coloring, swinging, and all the other cool, crazy, fun things that all the other kids liked to do.
While I have ALWAYS valued my childhood friends and their friendships, one always has, and most certainly always will stand out in my mind.
Danielle. Though we all called her "Dolly". She and I were like peas and carrots (thanks "Forest Gump"!). Pretty much, we were inseparable. We did EVERYTHING together. At home, at school.
But she too was "disabled". But unlike me, her disability was hidden. Dolly had a Congenital Heart Defect, and a hole in her heart at birth, that they did patch. But in later years, her heart began to go in to Congestive Heart Failure. We were about six and seven years old at the time.
Eventually, Dolly had to be placed on the National Transplant List. And like now, of course, children's organs, especially hearts and lungs were hard to come by. But finally, her waiting was over and she was able to receive a new heart.
The transplant its self was a success. And yes, I knew, even at the tender age of six, that my BFF was really sick and had to get a new heart. My parents didn't hide it from me.
But, within a few hours of the transplant, her heart was starting to be rejected by her body. And the doctors did EVERYTHING in their power to get her heart to settle and stabilize, even going as far as getting her right back on the list.
Sadly within the first twenty-four hours post-op, Dolly's body couldn't take anymore of the beating that the rejection was placing on her and her heart. She died at the tender and innocent age of seven years old.
For three years, we were like peas and carrots. Side by side. But this is one thing I could not do with her. I couldn't walk her to the Gates. When my mom told me she passed, at first I didn't believe it. I ran out of the house, next door to Dolly's house. As soon as I walked in and had seen all the sad faces and the crying, I knew then that really my friend was gone.
To this day, I still think of her from time to time, and the friendship we had shared. And all the crazy things we would do. And tucked away, up in a box within my attic, I have the last picture that we had taken together, not too long before her death.
So, take my advice...VALUE your friends and your friendships every single day. Don't take for granted what there is in your life. Because one day, they could suddenly be snatched from your life. You never, EVER know what life is going to throw at you or at them at any given moment.
Now, first of all, add your link to my Linky Tool down below and share your blogs with us. And then, head on over to meet some more of my Fab Friends over at For The Love Of Blogs by clicking on the "Fab Friends Friday" button.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
I Stepped Into Another Demnsion When Stepping Into The Classroom!!
It was as if I was in another world completely. Kinda eerie, if you ask me.
When the now former teacher for my daughter's Kindergarten class left, she apparently took a lot with her. Including the alphabet, color pictures (of crayons with their name) and even the Calendar for them to do their days of the week and dates/weather report.
As I was helping the Substitute to help "corral" the kids, knowing what would work, I mentioned "Treasure Box" rewards for Friday Folder passing if they got all greens on their Behavior sheets for the week.
Well, forget that! The Treasure Box was taken, too.
Now, the teacher that's been hired has really NOTHING to speak of to start working in the classroom with. Including what was found to be a wonderful reward system tool.
Lucky for me, I know the incoming teacher, seeing as she has been working as a Teacher's Assistant since last school year, as she awaited a full-time position to open up. She really is a nice lady, works a lot with the Special Needs kids, and I think will do very well teaching the class for the remainder of the year.
I'm telling you though, the poor woman is walking in to a holy hell mess! The situation isn't pretty. And I saw the kids act like wild animals for a good part of the day while I was there volunteering on Friday.
And I saw one kid that we FINALLY got in a better place behaviorally and socially going back in to his old habits.
None of the kids (yes including my own little angel) really listened to the Sub, were talking when told NOT to be talking and some were intentionally getting out of their seats as to run around the room.
"Bathroom, hands and water" was never done. Nor was "bathroom and hands" for lunch.
Their entire routine is entirely shot. It was pretty sad to see their whole world being turned upside down like this, classroom-wise and acting out.
I'll be there on Friday next week, when the new teacher officially starts for her first day of being a Kindergarten teacher. She can't start before then due to red tape jargon.
And I've already said that I am more than willing to come in for extra hours/days in the following one, two or three weeks, as to help her get them used to her, help her by showing and guiding her through their behavior modifications and rewards that have proven to INDEED work with *THIS* class of kids.
Plus I can easily tell her which kids are sensory-sensitive, who's got behavior/social problems, who are "shadows" (those that try and mimic others to get out of doing stuff if one of the other kids is TRULY sick-feeling), and also I know who are the famous trouble-starters (who usually get the entire table group to join in the "fun").
So in a nutshell, it seems that both the new teacher and myself have a wild ride ahead of us. There's been so many changes within the last six months in this one classroom, it's really not shocking to see the extreme changes in these kids. Both at home and within the classroom.
First, their Student Teacher left right before Thanksgiving because she finished her internship and was graduating. Then, their regular teacher that they've had since day one had to leave for medical reasons at Christmas time. Now, the Sub will leave after two week, to be replaced by their new regular teacher.
How much are these five and six year olds supposed to take? This is probably the MOST crucial time of their educational career. And for the last six months, they have really been put through some crap. Sad..
When the now former teacher for my daughter's Kindergarten class left, she apparently took a lot with her. Including the alphabet, color pictures (of crayons with their name) and even the Calendar for them to do their days of the week and dates/weather report.
As I was helping the Substitute to help "corral" the kids, knowing what would work, I mentioned "Treasure Box" rewards for Friday Folder passing if they got all greens on their Behavior sheets for the week.
Well, forget that! The Treasure Box was taken, too.
Now, the teacher that's been hired has really NOTHING to speak of to start working in the classroom with. Including what was found to be a wonderful reward system tool.
Lucky for me, I know the incoming teacher, seeing as she has been working as a Teacher's Assistant since last school year, as she awaited a full-time position to open up. She really is a nice lady, works a lot with the Special Needs kids, and I think will do very well teaching the class for the remainder of the year.
I'm telling you though, the poor woman is walking in to a holy hell mess! The situation isn't pretty. And I saw the kids act like wild animals for a good part of the day while I was there volunteering on Friday.
And I saw one kid that we FINALLY got in a better place behaviorally and socially going back in to his old habits.
None of the kids (yes including my own little angel) really listened to the Sub, were talking when told NOT to be talking and some were intentionally getting out of their seats as to run around the room.
"Bathroom, hands and water" was never done. Nor was "bathroom and hands" for lunch.
Their entire routine is entirely shot. It was pretty sad to see their whole world being turned upside down like this, classroom-wise and acting out.
I'll be there on Friday next week, when the new teacher officially starts for her first day of being a Kindergarten teacher. She can't start before then due to red tape jargon.
And I've already said that I am more than willing to come in for extra hours/days in the following one, two or three weeks, as to help her get them used to her, help her by showing and guiding her through their behavior modifications and rewards that have proven to INDEED work with *THIS* class of kids.
Plus I can easily tell her which kids are sensory-sensitive, who's got behavior/social problems, who are "shadows" (those that try and mimic others to get out of doing stuff if one of the other kids is TRULY sick-feeling), and also I know who are the famous trouble-starters (who usually get the entire table group to join in the "fun").
So in a nutshell, it seems that both the new teacher and myself have a wild ride ahead of us. There's been so many changes within the last six months in this one classroom, it's really not shocking to see the extreme changes in these kids. Both at home and within the classroom.
First, their Student Teacher left right before Thanksgiving because she finished her internship and was graduating. Then, their regular teacher that they've had since day one had to leave for medical reasons at Christmas time. Now, the Sub will leave after two week, to be replaced by their new regular teacher.
How much are these five and six year olds supposed to take? This is probably the MOST crucial time of their educational career. And for the last six months, they have really been put through some crap. Sad..
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I'm "Pouring My Heart Out" via Shell
With all that is going on lately, I think it's finally time to sit here and indeed...
Between an "extended" winter break this year for the schools, my kids fighting because of 'cabin' fever, my son having problems as of late, I am shocked that I'm not in the Psych Ward having meds fed to me three times a day.
If you want a better picture of what is happening with my son, then I suggest that you READ THIS.
As for the longer winter break, we are this year (and hopefull JUST this year) on the college schedule as to help with the budgeting, heating costs and other "costs".
But the biggest thing on my plate is the fact that my husband's grandfather has taken a turn for the worse and there is indeed no going back. I'd written about him a good while back, when we thought that the end was imminent. Of course, once more, Big Papa fooled us all. And even then, I shared my fears of when it's REALLY time. But this time, it's different.
Now, Big Papa is in the beginning of Kidney Failure. And he has flat out refused Dialysis. So, no amount of fluid intake will reverse it and once one organ starts the shut-down process, it's not long before other major organs follow.
We'd taken Hayley (who's the oldest at eleven, and knows fully of what's going on) with us to see Papa yesterday. She sat there and answered a couple of questions. As soon as he complimented her on how beautiful she's become as a young lady, she got up and left the room as to not let Big Papa see her cry.
After seeing she was right outside the door, I made the excuse that I wanted the guys (Scott and his granddad) to have some time alone. Which was true to an extent, but more to check on my kid.
I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place at this point. Mainly with Scott and Hayley, who will be most affected by the loss when Big Papa indeed does finally pass.
Scott's had this man in his life for almost 40 years. Hayley's known him for most of her eleven years. And she knows it's not everyday a kid can say I KNOW my GREAT-Grandparents.
I've got a responsibility ahead of me. One I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. One to be there for my kids, who will at different levels be grieving.
And I've got to be there to "hold up" my husband when this all goes down, knowing he will be taking this loss extremely hard. And knowing he is one of the pallbearers is of no consolidation to me, either.
All the while, I'll be having to deal with my own grief. So, knowing myself, I'll do my best (and more than likely succeed) to hold it all together and keep it all internalized until the primary portion of the storm passes by.
I've always been of the mind set that if I fall apart when everyone else is that's around me, then no one will be of use to anyone. It's kind of like "the blind leading the blind" in other words.
So, deep down, I know what's headed for me, for my family, and for the family as a whole when all is said and done. But I'm scared that when push comes to shove, I won't be who or what I need to be when the need arises.
Between an "extended" winter break this year for the schools, my kids fighting because of 'cabin' fever, my son having problems as of late, I am shocked that I'm not in the Psych Ward having meds fed to me three times a day.
If you want a better picture of what is happening with my son, then I suggest that you READ THIS.
As for the longer winter break, we are this year (and hopefull JUST this year) on the college schedule as to help with the budgeting, heating costs and other "costs".
But the biggest thing on my plate is the fact that my husband's grandfather has taken a turn for the worse and there is indeed no going back. I'd written about him a good while back, when we thought that the end was imminent. Of course, once more, Big Papa fooled us all. And even then, I shared my fears of when it's REALLY time. But this time, it's different.
Now, Big Papa is in the beginning of Kidney Failure. And he has flat out refused Dialysis. So, no amount of fluid intake will reverse it and once one organ starts the shut-down process, it's not long before other major organs follow.
We'd taken Hayley (who's the oldest at eleven, and knows fully of what's going on) with us to see Papa yesterday. She sat there and answered a couple of questions. As soon as he complimented her on how beautiful she's become as a young lady, she got up and left the room as to not let Big Papa see her cry.
After seeing she was right outside the door, I made the excuse that I wanted the guys (Scott and his granddad) to have some time alone. Which was true to an extent, but more to check on my kid.
I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place at this point. Mainly with Scott and Hayley, who will be most affected by the loss when Big Papa indeed does finally pass.
Scott's had this man in his life for almost 40 years. Hayley's known him for most of her eleven years. And she knows it's not everyday a kid can say I KNOW my GREAT-Grandparents.
I've got a responsibility ahead of me. One I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. One to be there for my kids, who will at different levels be grieving.
And I've got to be there to "hold up" my husband when this all goes down, knowing he will be taking this loss extremely hard. And knowing he is one of the pallbearers is of no consolidation to me, either.
All the while, I'll be having to deal with my own grief. So, knowing myself, I'll do my best (and more than likely succeed) to hold it all together and keep it all internalized until the primary portion of the storm passes by.
I've always been of the mind set that if I fall apart when everyone else is that's around me, then no one will be of use to anyone. It's kind of like "the blind leading the blind" in other words.
So, deep down, I know what's headed for me, for my family, and for the family as a whole when all is said and done. But I'm scared that when push comes to shove, I won't be who or what I need to be when the need arises.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Reality Sets In Three Fold For Me As A Mom...In One Morning.
That time for them has finally come to pass. No longer are they small, helpless, needy children. Now they are increasingly independent, strong, knowledgeable 'tweens'.
In one fail swoop, I'm being forced to not only start letting go of one of the three, but TWO of them at one time. And it will only get more difficult to do so as the next few years fly by.
Hayley started walking the five minutes to school last week, but still coming home on the bus. Now, her brother who is seventeen months her junior is starting to walk to school as well. And again, come home on the bus.
Which in turn has forced my (soon to be) six year old to be a "big girl" and ride the school bus on her own. But starting last week, she started riding ONE day a week after school to come home, being that both Hayley and Bryce are now in the after school program of Art Club.
This coming Thursday, Hayley, who is my oldest, will be eleven. Lord how these years have just flown on past. It's been a ride thus far. And with her mature attitude being more of a fourteen year old, her wings are spreading faster than I had hoped.
The week after, Skyler, who is the "baby" of the family will be six! So, soon, she will no longer officially be a "baby" of sorts to the world. She will no longer be a toddler or a preschooler. She will be an adolescent. Again, I am at a loss of where all the years have gone. Like a wind, they blew past with nary a care of what a mother's heart feels.
When I watched (through the closed front door's glass) Hayley and Bryce cross the street and head down the block towards school, I had them flash in my head as they were when they were little. I saw them as they used to be. Suddenly, I got back in to the reality of what I was witnessing, and for a brief moment, longed for those days once more.
Then, watching Skyler cross from about half way at the bus stop on her own (I walked her half way in to the street) to get on to it alone for the first time, my heart sank and I had to fight my wanting to walk her the rest of the way, it hurt to know that she too has stepped one closer away from me and becoming her own individual.
In these two brief moments of one morning, I wished to God I could stop time. Just for a few seconds. I wanted to turn back the clock to the times where they inherently needed me to the fullest extent. I have witnessed this morning the anxiety of a mother "losing" their children to the world. All at once. Each one making their own individual paths in the world.
How many ways can a mother's heart ache and break? Many. Including watching them all take their own paths in society and forming their own identities.
It's one thing to watch them do this one at a time. But to see all three of your children do this on different levels at once is completely overwhelming. Gone are the days of cooing, learning to walk and talk, being dependent even on me for the simplest of things and asking silly questions such as why the sky is one color and the ground another.
These are the days where you are extremely proud of who you are raising your children to be. But it sucks also, because in the same thought, you wish you could do it all over again with them and keep time as it is.
In one fail swoop, I'm being forced to not only start letting go of one of the three, but TWO of them at one time. And it will only get more difficult to do so as the next few years fly by.
Hayley started walking the five minutes to school last week, but still coming home on the bus. Now, her brother who is seventeen months her junior is starting to walk to school as well. And again, come home on the bus.
Which in turn has forced my (soon to be) six year old to be a "big girl" and ride the school bus on her own. But starting last week, she started riding ONE day a week after school to come home, being that both Hayley and Bryce are now in the after school program of Art Club.
This coming Thursday, Hayley, who is my oldest, will be eleven. Lord how these years have just flown on past. It's been a ride thus far. And with her mature attitude being more of a fourteen year old, her wings are spreading faster than I had hoped.
The week after, Skyler, who is the "baby" of the family will be six! So, soon, she will no longer officially be a "baby" of sorts to the world. She will no longer be a toddler or a preschooler. She will be an adolescent. Again, I am at a loss of where all the years have gone. Like a wind, they blew past with nary a care of what a mother's heart feels.
When I watched (through the closed front door's glass) Hayley and Bryce cross the street and head down the block towards school, I had them flash in my head as they were when they were little. I saw them as they used to be. Suddenly, I got back in to the reality of what I was witnessing, and for a brief moment, longed for those days once more.
Then, watching Skyler cross from about half way at the bus stop on her own (I walked her half way in to the street) to get on to it alone for the first time, my heart sank and I had to fight my wanting to walk her the rest of the way, it hurt to know that she too has stepped one closer away from me and becoming her own individual.
In these two brief moments of one morning, I wished to God I could stop time. Just for a few seconds. I wanted to turn back the clock to the times where they inherently needed me to the fullest extent. I have witnessed this morning the anxiety of a mother "losing" their children to the world. All at once. Each one making their own individual paths in the world.
How many ways can a mother's heart ache and break? Many. Including watching them all take their own paths in society and forming their own identities.
It's one thing to watch them do this one at a time. But to see all three of your children do this on different levels at once is completely overwhelming. Gone are the days of cooing, learning to walk and talk, being dependent even on me for the simplest of things and asking silly questions such as why the sky is one color and the ground another.
These are the days where you are extremely proud of who you are raising your children to be. But it sucks also, because in the same thought, you wish you could do it all over again with them and keep time as it is.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
"Am I A Fireman Yet??"
Once in a while, my dad will send me things from his side of the country. At almost 3,000 miles apart, it doesn't happen all too often. But when he does send things (primarily for his grandkids), he will send me clippings from a local magazine, The Carson Valley Scoop. Inside are some jokes, heart-warming stories and other articles that make you sit back and think, and also realize just how good you've really got it, compared to other people.
The following is a copy of an article (re-typed word-for-word by yours truly). This one really tugged at my heart strings. And yes, even brought a tear or two to my eyes. As a mother, how could I not feel the deepness of this story? So without further adieu, here is the story from 'Scoop'...
"Am I A Fireman Yet??"
In Phoenix, Arizona, a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal Leukemia.
Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination.
Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible. The Leukemia would see to that. But she wanted her son's dream to come true.
She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"
"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."
Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."
Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to giver her 6-year-old son a ride around the block on the fire engine.
Fireman Bob said, "Look, I can do better than that. If you'll have him ready by seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy- one- with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots." They're all manufactured locally, so they can get it ordered and back pretty fast.
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform, and escorted him from his hospital bed the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls.
He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's van, and even the Fire Chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program.
Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the Hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.
The Chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire?" 'It's the Department coming to see one of its finest members one last time. And will you open the window to his room?'
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window - SIXTEEN fire-fighters climbed up the ladder in to Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and told him how much they LOVED him.
With his dying breath, Billy looked up and the Fire Chief and said, "Chief, and I really a Fireman now?" 'Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand', the Chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing." He then closed his eyes one last time.
The following is a copy of an article (re-typed word-for-word by yours truly). This one really tugged at my heart strings. And yes, even brought a tear or two to my eyes. As a mother, how could I not feel the deepness of this story? So without further adieu, here is the story from 'Scoop'...
"Am I A Fireman Yet??"
In Phoenix, Arizona, a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal Leukemia.
Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination.
Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible. The Leukemia would see to that. But she wanted her son's dream to come true.
She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"
"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."
Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."
Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to giver her 6-year-old son a ride around the block on the fire engine.
Fireman Bob said, "Look, I can do better than that. If you'll have him ready by seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy- one- with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots." They're all manufactured locally, so they can get it ordered and back pretty fast.
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform, and escorted him from his hospital bed the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls.
He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's van, and even the Fire Chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program.
Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the Hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.
The Chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire?" 'It's the Department coming to see one of its finest members one last time. And will you open the window to his room?'
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window - SIXTEEN fire-fighters climbed up the ladder in to Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and told him how much they LOVED him.
With his dying breath, Billy looked up and the Fire Chief and said, "Chief, and I really a Fireman now?" 'Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand', the Chief said.
With those words, Billy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing." He then closed his eyes one last time.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Pour Your Heart Out Wednesday w/Shell (Get out the tissues! It's a tear-jerker.)
It's Wednesday, and it's anything that YOU consider pouring your heart out about today, as well. There isn't ever a theme or topic that you have to blog about- it's completely a personal thing. If you wish to participate, please feel free to click on the POUR YOUR HEART OUT button above and you will get all the info on this carnival that you need.
Seeing what Angel is going through, with her mom having a heart attack and Angel's sheer will to be "the rock", had me going back through time. To twenty years ago in to my past (will be 21 in October).
To this day, I remember waking up to my dad yelling at my mom to "wake up" over and over at six in the morning, along with that loud banging noise he kept making on the coffee table beside her.
When I had gotten up and went to the living room, I saw my mother sitting there. But it wasn't her. By that time that damage was done and it was too late. She sat in the chair of her's for HOURS before the discovery by my father. She was in and out of conscientious, you had to yell at her for her to hear you, she wasn't able to speak or move one side of her body. Hours later, after she was taken to the hospital, I sat in her chair to get ready for the day, only to realized she lost her ability to hold urine, being I sat in pee that SOAKED the chair.
Later on in the day, I found out that my forty-three-year-old mother suffered a massive stroke and survived it.
To have to see her in the hospital, and then the Rehab/Nursing Home Center crushed me. I was only twelve years old at the time. Later in life, I did find out she tried to starve herself to death, being she didn't want to live that way. She felt like she was a burden to both myself and my father. Near the end she had to be trached (a tube placed in her throat to help her breath) thanks to the paralysis harming her lungs, as well as STILL near the end, battling lung infections.
For all the times that I went to see her, before leaving I always told her "see you later". And she was in the hospital for twenty-eight days (Rehab Center, actually).
But on that last Saturday, which was her last, full day of life, I told her, with no one else around that it was "okay to go home". I gave her the RIGHT to die. I gave her the PERMISSION she seeked from my father. When I did, I let her know we (Dad and I) would be okay and that I understood.
Under that, though, in my mind I could hear myself getting angry. I did NOT want her to leave me. Not yet. And I resented my father, who must not have cared (in my mind) enough to let her go and be in peace. Why ME? I was only twelve. A child. And I had to do some VERY grown-up things at that time of my life. Both with her in the hospitals and after her death.
What did she do to deserve her fate? And what did I do to have to live my life without my mother, and see her slowly rot away for a month, and could do NOTHING for her, but release her.
As I have gotten older, I have learned some valuable lessons. Starting back twenty years ago, as I loved my mother the best that I could for that last month, before I actually of all the times, on her last day of life said "good-bye, Mom", instead of "see you later".
1) Life will NEVER be fair to you.
2) We all will lose those that we love and cherish in this life. No way around that.
3) Be strong. But learn to let it go and stop being other's rocks, to take time for YOU.
4) We will always have "WHY?" moments. And not all of them will have an answer.
5) Yes, the pain of loss does go away. But NEVER, EVER completely. A piece of your heart will ALWAYS hurt and yearn.
6) Timing is not always on our side. Feel blessed when it is, and ask for courage and strength to walk through the fire when it isn't.
7) It's okay to be angry and/or sad. Even twenty years later.
8) Doctors are not God. They can only do so much. After that it's up to the patient and up to God what happens from there. There is nothing you can do about it.
9) Life's lemmons sometimes stay sour, no matter how much sugar you add. You still have to drink it.
10) Trials by fire don't ALWAYS leave you burned at the stake. Good can come from tragedy. Like a new lease on your life and three kids, with a wonderful husband to boot.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Letting Go...Not That Easy (get out the tissues)
Over at FaceBook, I do this one application called "On This Day,God Wants You To Know". While I am a Christian, I am not very devout. I believe, and I do read the Bible. I pray for others as needed and felt led to.
With these "messages" from God, it gives you these little encouraging tidbits on how to improve your life, or of someone around you, and lets you know that you aren't alone.
Today's read for me as follows...
"On this day, God wants you to know... that it's time you let go. Yes, of course, you want to control so everything happens in just the way you want it. But at the end of the day, we control nothing, - it's all in God's hands, - has always been, and will always be. So, do what you can, and then let go, and let God handle the rest."
Above this, I had stated in the status area... (my words)
"It's not so much for me, but someone else that this is going to be hard to do. A lifetime can't be let go of that easily. Although, I DID get a lifetime of what I lacked in just one decade. For that I'm forever grateful."
You see, I had grown up since infancy with only my two grandmothers. Both of my grandfathers were dead. One passed a year or around there before my birth. The other died in Germany, during World War II when MY dad was only six months old.
The only 'grandfather' I had was my Great-Grandfather. But he passed away when I was six years old. And I don't have much memory of him or our time together, sadly.
For years and years, I often wondered what having a grandfather in my life would be like. I wondered what my grandfathers would have done with me activity-wise. Fishing, walks, talks about yesteryear. Even throwing a ball around would have been nice (being I was a tomboy).
After Scott and I had gotten together, I started meeting his folks. Good, southern, country-hospitality type of people. Love of family, country and God. Then one day, it was time for my first experience meeting the WHOLE side of Scott's dad's kin. WOW!! Think about this, his grandparents, their SEVEN kids, and THEIR other halves. Then add in all of THEIR kids. And even some more kids after that. LOTS of people.
Almost instantaneously, his grandparents took me under their wing and called me "just another of their grandkids". I have since then had a surprising and unexpectedly unique place in my heart for those two. Especially Scott's grandfather. He is a man of a few words. He has hands of steel. But also full of love. Even now, in his frailty. He has ALWAYS been good and kind to my oldest child and daughter, Hayley, who is from my first marriage. He (as well as Scott's grandma and the rest of the crew) treats her like she has ALWAYS been a Cowart. Nothing less.
For him and his family to take my daughter and I in to their hearts as they have, I will ALWAYS be grateful, thankful and filled with pride.
This past Saturday, we had the annual family picnic/reunion. This year though, everyone (except an aunt, Scott and a nephew, due to work schedule conflicts mainly) was there. It was great to see. Everyone was smiling, laughing, reminiscing, and just sharing of themselves.
This is also most likely the last one with the patriarch of the family. Big Papa (Scott's grandfather) has been steadily declining over the last year. At this time last year, he was hospitalized, and we thought he was not going to make it. He did. And they gave him six more months to live...Just over six months ago.
We all know that the inevitable is coming. It's no longer a matter of if, but of when. And with only ten percent of Big Papa's heart working, we know that time is most certainly precious for each day that we all still have him in our lives.
I've suffered some of the worst loss imaginable as a child. I lost my mother when I was twelve years old. Scott has lost a couple of uncles that I know of, and his Maternal Grandparents (one before birth and one at eight years old).
Losing a cousin or an aunt or uncle is one thing. But to lose a parent at a young age is just in a way fatefully cruel. Losing a grandparent so far in to adulthood yourself, can deal a huge blow to your heart.
Scott's going to take this hard. He is quite close with Big Papa and Big Grandma. It will really be his first major loss that he will understand. And it's already killing both of us inside.
I was actually not going to go. I had my reasons. But then I changed my mind. Now, I am glad I did. And I even got a few pictures of the kids with their great-grandparents.
After getting home and staring at the one of the girls with Big Papa, Skyler sitting on his lap, and him looking SO happy, it hit me. This was quite possibly THE last time I myself will see him alive, being I don't get to personally see them that much. Nor do the kids.
Thanks to that man, he gave me in ten years, what I yearned for, for practically my entire life. To know what it's like to have a grandfather in your life. And I was fortunate enough to receive this BEAUTIFUL gift from him.
It's going to be hard for me when his journey here is over. But I know it will be much, MUCH harder for Scott. And I can only hope and pray now, that when the time comes, I will be the rock he needs me to be. To be the comfort he needs. To have the right words when he asks "why" and "how".
Yes, we all must let go. Of past hurts, of anger and of sadness. But at times, knowing you must let go makes you want to hold on even tighter due to the fear of the loss. Letting go of those that are most important in your life in ANY means can be difficult. But there are those very special someone's that it seems IMPOSSIBLE that you have to let them go.
And Big Papa is going to be one of them.
With these "messages" from God, it gives you these little encouraging tidbits on how to improve your life, or of someone around you, and lets you know that you aren't alone.
Today's read for me as follows...
"On this day, God wants you to know... that it's time you let go. Yes, of course, you want to control so everything happens in just the way you want it. But at the end of the day, we control nothing, - it's all in God's hands, - has always been, and will always be. So, do what you can, and then let go, and let God handle the rest."
Above this, I had stated in the status area... (my words)
"It's not so much for me, but someone else that this is going to be hard to do. A lifetime can't be let go of that easily. Although, I DID get a lifetime of what I lacked in just one decade. For that I'm forever grateful."
You see, I had grown up since infancy with only my two grandmothers. Both of my grandfathers were dead. One passed a year or around there before my birth. The other died in Germany, during World War II when MY dad was only six months old.
The only 'grandfather' I had was my Great-Grandfather. But he passed away when I was six years old. And I don't have much memory of him or our time together, sadly.
For years and years, I often wondered what having a grandfather in my life would be like. I wondered what my grandfathers would have done with me activity-wise. Fishing, walks, talks about yesteryear. Even throwing a ball around would have been nice (being I was a tomboy).
After Scott and I had gotten together, I started meeting his folks. Good, southern, country-hospitality type of people. Love of family, country and God. Then one day, it was time for my first experience meeting the WHOLE side of Scott's dad's kin. WOW!! Think about this, his grandparents, their SEVEN kids, and THEIR other halves. Then add in all of THEIR kids. And even some more kids after that. LOTS of people.
Almost instantaneously, his grandparents took me under their wing and called me "just another of their grandkids". I have since then had a surprising and unexpectedly unique place in my heart for those two. Especially Scott's grandfather. He is a man of a few words. He has hands of steel. But also full of love. Even now, in his frailty. He has ALWAYS been good and kind to my oldest child and daughter, Hayley, who is from my first marriage. He (as well as Scott's grandma and the rest of the crew) treats her like she has ALWAYS been a Cowart. Nothing less.
For him and his family to take my daughter and I in to their hearts as they have, I will ALWAYS be grateful, thankful and filled with pride.
This past Saturday, we had the annual family picnic/reunion. This year though, everyone (except an aunt, Scott and a nephew, due to work schedule conflicts mainly) was there. It was great to see. Everyone was smiling, laughing, reminiscing, and just sharing of themselves.
This is also most likely the last one with the patriarch of the family. Big Papa (Scott's grandfather) has been steadily declining over the last year. At this time last year, he was hospitalized, and we thought he was not going to make it. He did. And they gave him six more months to live...Just over six months ago.
We all know that the inevitable is coming. It's no longer a matter of if, but of when. And with only ten percent of Big Papa's heart working, we know that time is most certainly precious for each day that we all still have him in our lives.
I've suffered some of the worst loss imaginable as a child. I lost my mother when I was twelve years old. Scott has lost a couple of uncles that I know of, and his Maternal Grandparents (one before birth and one at eight years old).
Losing a cousin or an aunt or uncle is one thing. But to lose a parent at a young age is just in a way fatefully cruel. Losing a grandparent so far in to adulthood yourself, can deal a huge blow to your heart.
Scott's going to take this hard. He is quite close with Big Papa and Big Grandma. It will really be his first major loss that he will understand. And it's already killing both of us inside.
I was actually not going to go. I had my reasons. But then I changed my mind. Now, I am glad I did. And I even got a few pictures of the kids with their great-grandparents.
After getting home and staring at the one of the girls with Big Papa, Skyler sitting on his lap, and him looking SO happy, it hit me. This was quite possibly THE last time I myself will see him alive, being I don't get to personally see them that much. Nor do the kids.
Thanks to that man, he gave me in ten years, what I yearned for, for practically my entire life. To know what it's like to have a grandfather in your life. And I was fortunate enough to receive this BEAUTIFUL gift from him.
It's going to be hard for me when his journey here is over. But I know it will be much, MUCH harder for Scott. And I can only hope and pray now, that when the time comes, I will be the rock he needs me to be. To be the comfort he needs. To have the right words when he asks "why" and "how".
Yes, we all must let go. Of past hurts, of anger and of sadness. But at times, knowing you must let go makes you want to hold on even tighter due to the fear of the loss. Letting go of those that are most important in your life in ANY means can be difficult. But there are those very special someone's that it seems IMPOSSIBLE that you have to let them go.
And Big Papa is going to be one of them.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
More Information Sheds New & Disturbing Light On Killer & Her Victim.
All I can say is this....DISGUSTING!
How can ANYONE, be it a man or a *woman* do such horrific and horrendous things to a child?
Many people have already heard the story of the former Sunday School Teacher, Melissa Huckaby. She raped, tortured, and killed eight-year-old Sandra Cantu. Only to stuff the girl's lifeless body in to a suitcase and throw her in to an irrigation pond.
Now, Melissa Huckaby is trying her best to try and seemingly "get out of" and is trying to explain away her actions.
Of course, she is using the classic "I was raped as a child" and the "I had a rough childhood" excuses to try and gain sympathy.
To read more just click HERE.
I'm sorry, but I have no sympathy, nor compassion for this woman. What she had done to Sandra, who was her daughter's friend and playmate, and what she did AFTER killing the child out of guilt was nothing but showing how calculated and callous the woman TRULY is.
This is one case of Prison Without Possibility Of Parole I say I *do* like. Normally, I would say death penalty. But for some reason, I get more satisfaction in knowing that Ms. Huckaby will be forced to sit and think for the rest of her days, of the things she did to that poor, INNOCENT girl and knowing the guilt will rot her inside more so than the rotting inside a prison cell.
"Macabre", in my eyes doesn't even begin to describe the acts of torture this woman had performed against Sandra. Melissa Huckaby by all counts ranks right up there with the devil himself when it comes to evilness.
How can ANYONE, be it a man or a *woman* do such horrific and horrendous things to a child?
Many people have already heard the story of the former Sunday School Teacher, Melissa Huckaby. She raped, tortured, and killed eight-year-old Sandra Cantu. Only to stuff the girl's lifeless body in to a suitcase and throw her in to an irrigation pond.
Now, Melissa Huckaby is trying her best to try and seemingly "get out of" and is trying to explain away her actions.
Of course, she is using the classic "I was raped as a child" and the "I had a rough childhood" excuses to try and gain sympathy.
To read more just click HERE.
I'm sorry, but I have no sympathy, nor compassion for this woman. What she had done to Sandra, who was her daughter's friend and playmate, and what she did AFTER killing the child out of guilt was nothing but showing how calculated and callous the woman TRULY is.
This is one case of Prison Without Possibility Of Parole I say I *do* like. Normally, I would say death penalty. But for some reason, I get more satisfaction in knowing that Ms. Huckaby will be forced to sit and think for the rest of her days, of the things she did to that poor, INNOCENT girl and knowing the guilt will rot her inside more so than the rotting inside a prison cell.
"Macabre", in my eyes doesn't even begin to describe the acts of torture this woman had performed against Sandra. Melissa Huckaby by all counts ranks right up there with the devil himself when it comes to evilness.
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