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.

"The Walking Dead"... The Humanized Version. And The "Mother" of All Questions.

WARNING!!! The video below contains graphic scenes, primarily of violence and may be disturbing to some viewers. Discretion is advised!



Last night, I had my husband watch this very scene from the show. It was then, as I once again was crying that he had asked me a very point-blank question. One that hit to the very core of me.

"If it were one of our kids, could you pull the trigger?"...

WOW! Powerful, isn't it? He wasn't asking me if I had thought that HE could put a bullet through our zombie-child's brain, or let alone someone other than us as their parents to do so.

I was asked if I myself, as their MOTHER, could bring myself to end my child's suffering by pointing the barrel of a gun at my their head and fire the shot to (finally) kill my son or my daughter.

In all honesty, I do NOT think that I could bring myself to shoot any one of my kids. Zombie-fied, or not. Even though it is for the greater good. For my child that is suffering the effects of being one of the un-dead, and to ease my own conscience as to start MY grieving process of losing my child to some crazy viral mutation.

As mothers, at least the majority of us anyways, because we all know that in today's society, some mothers should have NEVER had kids, as you can tell from news articles and TV spots, we can never imagine hurting our children. Especially in that manner.

We carried them for around nine months within the confines of our body. They were (literally) attached to us from day one of conception. We love them like no one else honestly can. We do our very best to protect them and to be vigilant in fulfilling their needs.

So, to see Sophia walk out of that barn's doorway as a zombie, it actually did break my heart. That horrid lump in my throat came bubbling up and my heart sank deep within my chest. To see Carol run after her daughter, Sophia as she came out of the barn was just sickening to my heart, knowing that there is NOTHING to do for her, but to end her suffering via a bullet to the brain.

As for Rick, as a parent/father himself, to BE the one to step forward, gun in hand, as his son, Carl, who was close friends with Sophia watched in unimaginable horror as Lori (Carl's mother) told her son to not watch, was taking on that leadership roll in a bold, new, albeit a gut-wrenching way.

If you watched closely as Rick aims the gun at Sophia, tears are stinging his eyes, as he tried hard to hold back. Hearing Carol's screams and cries I'm sure didn't help him with knowing that what he was about to do, HAD to be done. His jaw clinches and flinched just slightly as he pulls back on the trigger.

In one deep breath, it is over. Sophia is officially gone.

For all of those involved, it was a nightmare come true. Especially for the parents of the group. Primarily for Carol. To see the agony in her eyes, and hear it in her voice and in her cries about killed me.

And that question that my husband asked me in regards to being able to pull the trigger on my own child? It stuck with me and ate at me most of the night.

As for how the Makeup Artists made Sophia in to a zombie, I COMMEND THEM! They had done an explicitly excellent job of putting her humanity first, and the monstrous side to her, as a secondary attribute. She was the epitome and the if you will, spokes-zombie of the Walking Dead community. We got to see, thanks to Sophia (again, thanks to the Makeup crews!) as the little girl that (some of us) had grown to know and like (if not love), even though she was no longer completely human.

So to see her story end in this way, which indeed was utterly shocking, it left me, as a mom, heartbroken, but glad all at once. A mother lost a child. But in the end, there was and will be closure for Carol. And for the others.

Or will there be?

Memories Of The Past, Memories In The Making

I'm eight years old, and it is officially the first day of school. I'm off to First Grade in Mrs. Bartley's class. I'm all ready to go in my white, ruffle-neck dress shirt, my purple overalls with the yellow tulip on the front, and my pigtails upon my head.

Being it's no more than a seven-minute walk to school, and back then, my area was pretty darn safe, my parents started out on the journey to my new school along side me, with Sarah, our Corgi. They stopped at the corner of the next street over from us and let me finish the walk on my own. As a big girl.

I remember vaguely, as I turned my head to see my parents still standing there at the corner, after I crossed the street, then crossed to the opposite corner at the end of the block. They waved to me, my dog looking sad and in wonderment of where her "sister" is going off to without her. My mom, I saw wiping tears from her eyes, trying not to fall apart, as most of us mothers do when their babies start trying out their wings.

After waving good-bye and walking out of their sight, I can only imagine how Mom fell apart, and how Dad had to console her on that "lonely" walk back to the house after I made the rest of my way off to school that beautifully warm and sunny morning.

But that would also be the last time she would ever see me take that "big leap" in growing up. Ever. Because the year before I was to start Junior High/Middle School, my mother had passed away after having suffered from a massive stroke and pneumonia.

Yesterday (Thursday, August 18th) my oldest had her Middle School orientation to take a dry run at finding her classes, knowing how to get in to her locker, meet her teachers and to learn the rules.

She has to get on the bus now, about an hour earlier than before, when she attended Elementary School. And she is fine with that. Because she also now gets out about an hour earlier than her siblings.

As my daughter waited outside at the bus stop (which for her, is now across the street) I had the flashbacks. I saw her as a tiny girl again, just starting Preschool. She and I waited for the bus at the top of the hill near our former home. She was SO excited. And I watched as she clomped up each step with her short, stubby little legs, and her huge backpack on her back, as she boarded the bus. It took all that I had to not just lose it right then and there.

Yesterday, it hit me. Not only am I seeing my little girl, my first born, grow up before my very eyes into what will be a stunningly beautiful young woman, but I am witnessing something my mother never was able to have the chance to, and never will. Not with myself, and not with her grandchildren.

I was VERY close to my oldest daughter's age when I lost my mother. And I am only about eight and a half years younger than my mother's age when she died. It pains me to know that my mother has had to miss out on SO much. My marriage. My kids. How I have grown and matured. My overcoming of many medical obstacles.

While I feel blessed and fortunate to be here to see and experience the wonders of my children as they each make their own headway in the world and leave their own marks on the world, it still saddens me that I didn't get the chance to have my mom see all that I can.

So, I guess in a way, I am living life and experiencing these things for the both of us. And I often times wonder what Mom would say, think or do. What would she say about how my life has turned out? What would she say about the man that I married or how I am raising and rearing my children?

Sadly, those are questions that will forever haunt me and be left unanswered. And to this day, it is still hard for me to come to terms with that fact.

PYHO... Mommy Wars

*Please remember, for some of us, this is the only place to be able to vent in a safe way, as to avoid the unneeded negativity that may already be occurring in our lives. In other words, if you have nothing constructive, and uninsulting to say, please refrain or move on. Or else, I let Angel come at you with one of her flaming vlogs.*

Yesterday morning, over on my FaceBook profile, I put a little lighthearted post up about this being the last two weeks of school. My exact words were...

"All the kids are off to school and here I sit, sipping my second cup of coffee. Best enjoy it while I can. In two weeks, the peace will NOT be with me. For 2 months."

In a nutshell, I meant no malice. I was not whining (as a friend had stated on behalf of her sister) and yes, indeed KNOW that I am VERY fortunate to be home with my kids.

But it wasn't always this way. I have also been a working mother as well in my time. And I missed some important areas of growth in two of my children because of it. When my third (and last) came along, I quit my job because honestly, there was no way, even with BOTH of our incomes, could afford full and part time child care for THREE kids. So I left and never went back in to the workforce.

ALL of us mothers (and fathers) work hard. Both inside and outside of the home. Only real difference is that some mothers get to earn monetary income, as well as have the house duties (and parental duties). And some of us don't earn more than kisses or hugs, which in my mind trumps all the monetary pay in the world.

"I would say you are pretty lucky!"...Yes, I am. But also, I didn't post what I did as to gain sympathy or bragging rights.

Is this what posting anything in the way of parenting has come to? Picking a war over a joke? Hell, I even made it in to a "Yoda-ism" near the end.

I'm NO better in the parenting department, being a mother who stays home, than the working girl next door with a kid or two. We both have the same job description where being a parent is concerned. Love, nurture and support our kids.

But believe me when I say, staying home 24/7 is no real picnic either. I would LOVE to be able to once again earn money from a day's work. I would love to have ADULT interactions outside of my home and the school setting (where I volunteer).

Then again, my line of work to go back to would NOT allow me the schedule I would need. Not in the retail life. It's not a "9 to 5" environment with every weekend off. And you can never really plan anything around your schedule, because that ALWAYS is changing.

Basically, there are pros and cons in BOTH areas of being a parent who works and who stays home. I may JOKE about the fact that Summertime will bring me little to no peace (which is VERY true), I will STILL enjoy the time I will have with my kids being home.

Like another mommy-friend said to me last night, "If your children don't annoy you at least once a week, you aren't around them enough". So true there! And believe me, I'm around mine enough, that the gray hairs just keep piling on my head. But I don't love, nor do I not want to be with them any less.

That FB post meant that I am being HUMAN, as well as realistic of what's to come with Summer break looming.

Just because I am a mother, it does NOT mean I have to "enjoy" having NO peacefulness or "me time" to take time for ME, and instead place myself last.

Which I do anyways.

The Mom Pledge..Take A Stand!

I'm a mother, a daughter, a friend, a "sister", a sister-in-law, a daughter-in-law, niece and an aunt.

I'm also compassionate, passionate, sympathetic and empathetic.

What I am NOT is hateful, demeaning, cruel or mean-spirited.

Over the years I have been within the internet world, I have seen some pretty wild, nasty, hate-filled and prejudiced words thrown at others. Complete strangers mind you.

Especially among fellow MOTHERS. And primarily between one "mothers-friendly" site and within the blogosphere.

Am I 100% innocent of not saying something out of haste or anger that was hurtful to someone on the internet? Nope. I'm no angel and will never claim to be.

But I also won't stalk someone and leave such hateful things like what I have seen and even at times (literally) got sick over.

Blogging in particular is an outlet for many different people, for many different reasons. Mothers are of the Blogosphere's top contributors.

As a mother myself, between this blog and my other blog, The "Mental"-ist Mom, I talk about my kids in one way or another. The secondary blog mainly revolves around my son who is disabled due to several mental health issues and what my life is like in raising him to be as normal as he can be. And to show that outward appearances CAN be and at most times, ARE deceiving.

If you are a mother, a blogger and a mom who is AGAINST other mommy-bloggers that can have "verbal diarrhea", leaving hate-filled comments on other's posts or "stalk" other mommy-bloggers (or any blogger really), as a means to TEAR DOWN others, instead of wanting to BUILD THEM UP and offer *support* or encouragement, then I *HIGHLY* recommend that you take the MOM BLOGGER PLEDGE today.

The Mom Pledge Blog features every weekday a fellow Pledge within the community who is standing up against negative mom bloggers.



The Pledge (via The Mom Pledge Founder, Elizabeth Flora Ross)...

I am a proud Mommy Blogger. I will conduct myself with integrity in all my blogging activities. I can lead by example.

I pledge to treat my fellow moms with respect. I will acknowledge that there is no one, "right" way to be a good Mom. Each woman makes the choices best for her family.

I believe a healthy dialogue on important issues is a good thing. I will welcome differing opinions when offered in a respectful, non-judgmental manner. And will treat those who do so in kind.

I stand up against online bullying. My blog is my space. I will not tolerate comments that are rude, condescending or disrespectful.

I refuse to give those who attack a platform. I will remove their remarks from my blog with no mention or response. I can take control.

I want to see moms work together to build one another up, not tear each other down. Words can be used as weapons. I will not engage in that behavior.

I affirm that we are a community. As a member, I will strive to foster goodwill among moms. Together, we can make a difference.

...Now, if only more of us women (mothers or not) can be like this. Women are known to be catty and cut-throat. But to be so to someone you don't even know is just despicable and disheartening.

There are REAL feelings being felt behind those screens, reading the words of hate and disrespect. Real tears fall EVERY single day because a fellow mother had the gall to spew vile from her fingertips.

What if it was being said to you (aimed at the guilty who may read this)?? How would YOU feel if those harsh, demeaning, hurtful, hateful words were "spoken" to you? You don't REALLY know the blogger's life. How much she is TRULY hiding away from the world, only letting out certain pieces.

So now, I beg you, choose your words carefully. You never really know how deep another's pain may be already. To add "insult to injury" can potentially end with disastrous results. Bullying should have been left behind in the school-age years. And stalking should NEVER happen.

Take the pledge with me today. MOMMY-BLOGGERS UNITE!

Energy... I "had" it.

Sometimes, I will sit on our living room side porch outside. As I do, I will see the kids playing, running around and chasing one another.

And this is after a full day at school learning from their books, learning social skills and playing outside on the playground.

My children are normally on a school day up no later than 7:30 in the morning. They are on the go all day long at school. Then, they have to come home and change, do their homework and sometimes also do a couple of chores.

Still though, even after all of that, they manage to find the time and the energy to be active and energetic. And knowing them as well as I do, if one is slacking and not moving or talking much, then they have got to be sick with something.

This past week, since about Monday, it's been go here and there, do this and that for me. With barely any time for myself to sit and rest. In fact TODAY is my only real day "off" and not do a single thing. For the most part.

I've been readying for my oldest's upcoming birthday party (she turned 11 TODAY, but the party is Sunday), had gone on a trip with her class Tuesday, helped with a Staff Breakfast at school yesterday and then stayed for most of the day to help in the K class and with my weekly Art classes, being that I will be out of town with my son and his class tomorrow on another field trip.

Add in the get together for early Thanksgiving dinner with my FIL's side of the family and the party on Sunday, there's just no stopping or slowing down.

But it all caught up to me yesterday evening. I was so dead tired, that when I went to "snuggle" with my (soon to be) six year old (who's party will be the following Sunday) in bed, I fell asleep and was snoozing as soon as my head hit her pillow.

Now, I did get up about an hour later, thanks to her snoring. I moved in to MY bed downstairs and drifted right back off to sleep. And apparently, my husband let our other two children sleep on the Family Room couch downstairs. What a surprise to wake up to.

But it's safe to say that one, I went to be extremely early (which is highly unusual, and being it was 8:30). And two, I slept a good oh, ten hours almost straight. Neither of which I think I have honestly done in YEARS like that.

The more that I think of it, I have a feeling that in (less than) a week's time, I have given the Energizer Bunny a run for his moola. Although, I certainly now know, thanks to my body telling me so, I am not as young as I used to be and that age TRULY IS catching up to me. As is the arthritis and tendinitis in my knees.

Dear Lord! I *am* turning in to my father. (cries)

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.

So Many Thoughts Come to Mind...Ponderings On a Rainy Day.

In one month and two days from today, it will be a milestone. And a lot of different meanings.

For one, my childhood friend, Lisa's birthday is on October 29th. We just recently reconnected, thanks to FaceBook, after almost 25 years of dropping off the earth to one another. Then, soon followed by her three sisters, Neva, Dana and Rena.

Then, add in the fact that it will be 21 years since my mother's passing. Over the years it has gotten much better to take in and deal with. I know she will always be with me in my heart and in my memories (what few I have left of her and our time together).

The biggest milestone to come on October 29th though is...

It will be my one-year anniversary since my Cornea Transplant. While I'm happy to have the sight that I DO have in it now, compared to before the surgery (and the fact that I have a cornea), it will also be a day of mourning.

Yes, we recipients DO mourn the passing of those which have given us our second chances. We never (in most cases) were able to meet them in life. And a rare few of us get to meet the families that are mourning the loss of their loved one that donated to us. But we are very thankful and grateful, none the less. And it hurts us to know that another family is out there, somewhere, hurting and are not able to have the time with their family any longer, as we recipients share in the joys, trials and tribulations of our families.

It's on days like this, where it's damp, chilly and rainy, that I sit and wonder. What if my mother were still alive? How would she have felt of my moving across to the other side of the states? How would she think of my husband? What nicknames would she have given her grandchildren?...Would I have still had that stupid trache until I turned 18?

I also wonder who my donor was. What is their gender? How old were they? What were their likes and dislikes? Was their family life filled with love and laughter?

So many thoughts to ponder as I sit here, sipping my coffee and listening to the stillness of the house, as the rain beats down and the cars are passing by on slick roads.

I'm in a Musical Way,today!Join me & hear what I want to say to certain peeps!!

This first one is for my husband Scott. Let's just say that I'm sure we are BOTH in withdrawal thanks to my UTI problem. And for me, this following song states exactly how I'm feeling about him.




This next one is to my kids. They have been *almost* the death of me during Summer Vacation. Sadly, I can vouch that I have said EVERY SINGLE thing in this "mom song" at least a hundred times, plus another million...




The eating song goes out to my PMS and knowing that I have gained two pounds from water-weight gain. And another two will be added from stuffing my face for the next week or so...




Every once in a while, including very recently, I have thought about the old days of my youth. And I swear, Tim got this right!




There is a way out! You just need to find the courage to pick yourself up and leave. It WILL be difficult and extremely scary to do so, at first. But to escape and taste the freedom of what life REALLY has to offer is more than worth it..I should know.




Last but not least, this one goes to all my gal-pal readers! No matter if you are 9 or 99. We really ARE the same inside...

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.

Perfection Perception... Fail.

Ya know what? I wasn't planning on writing on here at all today. I was going to jot some stuff tomorrow. But now, I HAVE TO SAY IT! You all know me well enough by now, that if I have it on my mind, I have to type it out.

Well, technically, I already did. Over at Momster.com. But I felt that I needed to bring it here too. It's a smallishly tweaked version of what I said over at the Fan Page for Momster.com over at Facebook. I tweaked it so that it has an overall umbrella addressing ALL parents, not just moms. Because, I have seen and heard fathers say the exact same thing.

So, without further ado...


I'm sorry but some parents are INSANE when it comes to grades..."Expects NOTHING less than an A"??? WOW! Talk about pressure. That is expecting WAAAY too much.

All three of my kids are advanced and I know that they have wonderful potential. But I REFUSE to say "you cannot earn LESS than an A". Your kids can't fill the void that (maybe) you lacked when it came to school grades.

And while they are smart, they CANNOT be perfect at EVERY single subject. It's unrealistic to think that.

I'm perfectly fine with a C or better. D is cause for concern and a talk. An F constitutes concern, the talk, and privileges taken until grades improve.

Parent's expectations HAVE TO BE within reason. Saying you only expects A's and nothing less is being in an imaginary world.

How would you all like it if (even though you have the potential) your parents told you that if you don't get all A's, all the time, that you would be in trouble. And think of the CONSTANT pressure and fear. Do you REALLY want that for your children?