It was all worth it for her to have this experience.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sometimes, just saying yes is enough...
Sometimes, giving your kid permission to do something they really, really want to do is enough. Even if putting them on a plane by themselves scares you to death, makes you want to throw up and breaks your heart all at the same time.
It was all worth it for her to have this experience.
It was all worth it for her to have this experience.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Sisters
So, I was watching Dr. Phil the other day (shut up) and it was about this new show The Locator. There were 5 sisters on there who had not seen each other for 20 years, and this guy, The Locator, found them all. And reunited them.
Now, I can joke all I want and say I would have loved to be an only child. I mean, it was rough growing up with 3 sisters. There was "the oldest", "the perfect one" and the "smart one", otherwise known as Stephanie, Kim and Robin. I was in there somewhere, not sure of my "title", not sure I want to know. I do know I was mostly difficult, moody, bitchy and probably kinda mean at times. I always felt "apart" from these girls, like I had been beamed down from outer space into this family. I spent countless hours wondering why I wasn't, or couldn't be, more like them. Jealous as hell of all three of you for whatever it was that you had that I didn't.
Whatever...I grew up (sort of) and got over it.
So after watching these 5 sisters that had all grown up without each other, I started thinking about these girls I had grown up with and wondered...could I have made it through the last 20 years without them??
Nope.
Oh, we're all different, have our own views, raise our kids differently, have our own ways to live our lives. But that's what makes it so perfect. I can get three different answers to a question and pick the one I like best. Whatever my problem is at the time I can call any one of them and know they've either been thru something like it or know someone who has and can talk me thru it.
I have learned how lucky I am to have all three of them. They have been with me thru child raising, marriage, divorce, death and the dreaded teenage years. I know that I can call any one of them for help if I need it. (Not that I would, HELLO! I still have an aversion to that) I know that if I ever needed a shoulder to cry on, (oh please. like I would. I haven't cried in YEARS) any one of them would be there. If I had a heart, instead of an empty chest cavity, and it got broken, they would do their best to cheer me up. I know that no matter what choices I make, these women will stand behind me. They WILL tell me what they think of those choices, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but they will stick with me. We annoy each other sometimes, we don't always agree. But we also laugh together, cry together and live together. What more could I ask for? (Maybe a Cowboy, but that's a different story)
The choices I make define how I live my life. But what defines me? The people I love. How lucky am I to have had these 3 women, all amazing in their own way, help to define me? I have something a lot of people don't...and I'll never forget that again.
Thank you, my sisters, for everything you do, for everything you are, and everything I will be because of you. I love you.
Now, I can joke all I want and say I would have loved to be an only child. I mean, it was rough growing up with 3 sisters. There was "the oldest", "the perfect one" and the "smart one", otherwise known as Stephanie, Kim and Robin. I was in there somewhere, not sure of my "title", not sure I want to know. I do know I was mostly difficult, moody, bitchy and probably kinda mean at times. I always felt "apart" from these girls, like I had been beamed down from outer space into this family. I spent countless hours wondering why I wasn't, or couldn't be, more like them. Jealous as hell of all three of you for whatever it was that you had that I didn't.
Whatever...I grew up (sort of) and got over it.
So after watching these 5 sisters that had all grown up without each other, I started thinking about these girls I had grown up with and wondered...could I have made it through the last 20 years without them??
Nope.
Oh, we're all different, have our own views, raise our kids differently, have our own ways to live our lives. But that's what makes it so perfect. I can get three different answers to a question and pick the one I like best. Whatever my problem is at the time I can call any one of them and know they've either been thru something like it or know someone who has and can talk me thru it.
I have learned how lucky I am to have all three of them. They have been with me thru child raising, marriage, divorce, death and the dreaded teenage years. I know that I can call any one of them for help if I need it. (Not that I would, HELLO! I still have an aversion to that) I know that if I ever needed a shoulder to cry on, (oh please. like I would. I haven't cried in YEARS) any one of them would be there. If I had a heart, instead of an empty chest cavity, and it got broken, they would do their best to cheer me up. I know that no matter what choices I make, these women will stand behind me. They WILL tell me what they think of those choices, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but they will stick with me. We annoy each other sometimes, we don't always agree. But we also laugh together, cry together and live together. What more could I ask for? (Maybe a Cowboy, but that's a different story)
The choices I make define how I live my life. But what defines me? The people I love. How lucky am I to have had these 3 women, all amazing in their own way, help to define me? I have something a lot of people don't...and I'll never forget that again.
Thank you, my sisters, for everything you do, for everything you are, and everything I will be because of you. I love you.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
2 Choices
The following story was sent to me by a friend. It made me think. Am I this kind of person? Would I have made the same choice as these boys did? I don't know. That bothers me. I feel that most of the people I know would have. I know without a shadow of a doubt that Heather would have done what these boys did. This story just added to a lot of things I have been thinking about myself and struggling with lately. I have been asked by a few people why I haven't been posting much and the answer to one of them was this....
i dont update as much as i thougt i would
because half the shit i actually want to put on there right now would piss off at least one person per post.
not sure if the headache is worth it at this point.
i'm depressed enough all ready.
Now, the whole point of this blog when I started was to give you all an example of the extremely educated, intuitive, delightfully funny and deeply thought provoking crap that roams thru my head from time to time. (heh heh) Not to whine so much that you all want to smack me and tell me to get over it. So while I know you are all waiting breathlessly, you'll have to keep waiting until the voices in my head quit sniveling and let me get something intelligent out.
So read the following story, maybe it will make you think. But like I said, most of you probably won't have to. And while you may want to comment and tell me whether or not you think I am this kind of person, please don't. I do value all of your opinions, but in this situation, I think what matters more than your opinion of me, is my opinion of me. I feel it's something I have to figure out on my own.
Two Choices What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?' The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.' Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.' Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball.. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
i dont update as much as i thougt i would
because half the shit i actually want to put on there right now would piss off at least one person per post.
not sure if the headache is worth it at this point.
i'm depressed enough all ready.
Now, the whole point of this blog when I started was to give you all an example of the extremely educated, intuitive, delightfully funny and deeply thought provoking crap that roams thru my head from time to time. (heh heh) Not to whine so much that you all want to smack me and tell me to get over it. So while I know you are all waiting breathlessly, you'll have to keep waiting until the voices in my head quit sniveling and let me get something intelligent out.
So read the following story, maybe it will make you think. But like I said, most of you probably won't have to. And while you may want to comment and tell me whether or not you think I am this kind of person, please don't. I do value all of your opinions, but in this situation, I think what matters more than your opinion of me, is my opinion of me. I feel it's something I have to figure out on my own.
Two Choices What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?' The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.' Then he told the following story:
Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.' Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball.. The smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay' Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.
Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
theres no lesson here.
this song just makes me laugh.
or maybe the lesson is that some things haunt you forever...even if you don't care.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EmqIsnIp5uc
this song just makes me laugh.
or maybe the lesson is that some things haunt you forever...even if you don't care.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EmqIsnIp5uc
Monday, December 22, 2008
Here's today's lesson boys and girls, friends and family.
When you have had a very long day at work, and you are driving home through a blizard, and you stop at the store because you need something for dinner and you want a gigantanormous cheeseburger....make SURE the the package you pick up says ground BEEF, not ground PORK. And maybe you want to check said package BEFORE you make the patties and start cooking them, not grabbing the wrapper out of the garbage AFTER the things are halfway cooked because you know SOMETHING is weird.
Pork burgers..or porkers as heather now calls them, are not all that great. Drown them in whatever you want...they are not anything like a CHEESEBURGER!! You can put them in a hamburger bun and eat them with barbeque chips, and tell yourself the whole time that its a cheeseburger, but it just doesn't cut it. Yes...I ate it, but I was starving and there was nothing else in the house.
There's today's cooking lesson from yours truly.
Have a nice day.
When you have had a very long day at work, and you are driving home through a blizard, and you stop at the store because you need something for dinner and you want a gigantanormous cheeseburger....make SURE the the package you pick up says ground BEEF, not ground PORK. And maybe you want to check said package BEFORE you make the patties and start cooking them, not grabbing the wrapper out of the garbage AFTER the things are halfway cooked because you know SOMETHING is weird.
Pork burgers..or porkers as heather now calls them, are not all that great. Drown them in whatever you want...they are not anything like a CHEESEBURGER!! You can put them in a hamburger bun and eat them with barbeque chips, and tell yourself the whole time that its a cheeseburger, but it just doesn't cut it. Yes...I ate it, but I was starving and there was nothing else in the house.
There's today's cooking lesson from yours truly.
Have a nice day.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Fixin' It
Me: "If I can't fix it, no one's gonna"
Mom: big sigh..."You are JUST like your father"
This conversation happened a few years ago. I don't remember the problem I had at the time...it could have been anything. Or anyone. Duane, Heather, work, money, life, anything. I just remember feeling that if I couldn't fix my problem, I wasn't going to let anyone else either.
I haven't changed, if any of you are wondering.
And, hey, being JUST like my father is not a bad thing. He's the only man who has stuck by me my whole life, no matter what. I'm sure it wasn't easy. Hell, I know it wasn't. More on that in another post.
Back to fixing things. Unfortunately, in the last few years I have realized...there are some things you just can't fix, no matter what.
Sometimes, i had days where i felt like superwoman. I can change the spark plugs in my car if i have to. I can fix my vacuum cleaner. I have raised a child on my own. And during all this i worked. i started at the bottom and have worked my way up to where i am now. That may not be some peoples version of superwoman...but the chick on the tv show only had to stay skinny to look good in the suit, and she had stunt doubles. So I got her beat.
But....
I can't fix the way other people choose to live their life. I couldn't fix my husband. I tried. Man..I tried. Lost a lot during that period. Mostly a lot of myself. And the biggest damn TV you ever saw. I miss that tv. thank god I'm better at divorce than i am at marriage...got some back. heh heh. You hear sometimes that love can fix stuff. When yours can't you definitely feel like less of a person somehow. You sure as hell don't feel like superwoman. I couldn't fix him, but that's something I can and did get over.
This I can't get over. I can't fix someone else's broken heart. I can't take away the pain. I struggle with this every day. When it comes to my family and the people that I love, it just comes down to this. I want to protect them, make them happy, fix whatever is hurting them and I can't. For some reason, I feel like I SHOULD be able to do all of this. I SHOULD be able to have an answer, a solution, a reason. I SHOULD have whatever it takes to make it right again. I don't know why I feel like I should have all these powers, I'm not, ummm...you know...that GUY. So during the moments when I remember I can't fix all this stuff, I just feel, useless.
That's the fixin it (or not) lesson. Sucks, don't it?
There are little bright moments though. Evil Vicky and her smug husband were NOT the biggest losers and went home empty handed. Some things at least, turn out right.
Mom: big sigh..."You are JUST like your father"
This conversation happened a few years ago. I don't remember the problem I had at the time...it could have been anything. Or anyone. Duane, Heather, work, money, life, anything. I just remember feeling that if I couldn't fix my problem, I wasn't going to let anyone else either.
I haven't changed, if any of you are wondering.
And, hey, being JUST like my father is not a bad thing. He's the only man who has stuck by me my whole life, no matter what. I'm sure it wasn't easy. Hell, I know it wasn't. More on that in another post.
Back to fixing things. Unfortunately, in the last few years I have realized...there are some things you just can't fix, no matter what.
Sometimes, i had days where i felt like superwoman. I can change the spark plugs in my car if i have to. I can fix my vacuum cleaner. I have raised a child on my own. And during all this i worked. i started at the bottom and have worked my way up to where i am now. That may not be some peoples version of superwoman...but the chick on the tv show only had to stay skinny to look good in the suit, and she had stunt doubles. So I got her beat.
But....
I can't fix the way other people choose to live their life. I couldn't fix my husband. I tried. Man..I tried. Lost a lot during that period. Mostly a lot of myself. And the biggest damn TV you ever saw. I miss that tv. thank god I'm better at divorce than i am at marriage...got some back. heh heh. You hear sometimes that love can fix stuff. When yours can't you definitely feel like less of a person somehow. You sure as hell don't feel like superwoman. I couldn't fix him, but that's something I can and did get over.
This I can't get over. I can't fix someone else's broken heart. I can't take away the pain. I struggle with this every day. When it comes to my family and the people that I love, it just comes down to this. I want to protect them, make them happy, fix whatever is hurting them and I can't. For some reason, I feel like I SHOULD be able to do all of this. I SHOULD be able to have an answer, a solution, a reason. I SHOULD have whatever it takes to make it right again. I don't know why I feel like I should have all these powers, I'm not, ummm...you know...that GUY. So during the moments when I remember I can't fix all this stuff, I just feel, useless.
That's the fixin it (or not) lesson. Sucks, don't it?
There are little bright moments though. Evil Vicky and her smug husband were NOT the biggest losers and went home empty handed. Some things at least, turn out right.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Gifts
"Sometimes the gifts we are given are not the ones we ask for. The important thing is what we do with the gifts we are given."
Yup...not being able to do much the last few days has forced me to watch stupid sappy Christmas movies on some woman's channel. I know...i could change the channel, but i am horribly fascinated by the impossibly, unbelievably sweet happy endings. OK....and i like to make fun of them. Whatever.
Anyway.
So one line in a movie started me thinking about all the gifts i have in my life.
Wonderful parents, who were willing to come here for thanksgiving so that Heather and I wouldn't be alone. At least until I told her she would have to cook the whole thing. I kid...I told them to stay home. Heather and I being alone is a misconception. We aren't alone as long as we have each other, and all of you. A mother who would come all the way here to be in the hospital with me, and a father who would call in the afternoon to find out how i am. Even though he tried to disguise it as a when are you coming home call. I heard her answer your question about how i was before she told you when she was coming home. You've been busted.
Sisters...I have three. three of the most beautiful, caring, supportive and amazing women anyone will ever meet. No one could ask for better ones.
Friends. Friends who keep the laughter in my life. OK...so making up stories about whats gonna happen while I'm under the knife may be pushing it. Or making the suggestion that i should get a tattoo while I'm there. However...some of the suggestions for that tattoo were pretty damn funny. I won't mention them here...its a family blog.
You are all my family...and i know, and am eternally grateful for that gift. I didn't ask for a damn one of you...but your were given to me anyway...and you're stuck with me.
Strength. the strength to deal with awful, painful, yucky things being done to your special places in order to make something wrong right. keep your fingers crossed on that one..i won't know for a few months. If it didn't work...THAT useless piece of my body will be removed. Even if i have to do it myself. Today is the first day i have not slept all day. that i haven't been in too much pain. that i actually didn't look or feel like i was on the edge of death. that i felt good enough to leave my house for the first time since Wednesday.
Knowledge. the next time a medical professional tells me i will have a one day recovery period...i will know enough to smack them. hard.
Percoset. The guy that invented that needs his own national holiday. With parades and fireworks. he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. I love that guy. He has replaced Toby as my next husband.
Heather. My daughter is the greatest gift i have ever gotten. You all know her..but do you know all the gifts she has and shares with me? Imagination..."i thought they were gonna do this thing with a blow torch or something". Curiosity. She told me she raised her hand in biology and said "my mother is getting her uterus fried tomorrow. how do they actually do that?" she assures me that she didn't really do that, but I'm not sure i believe her. Humor. I yelled at her the other day (i was a little cranky) and she looked at me and said "fried uterus on the edge!" That kid is soooooooooo funny. I think she gets that from me. Caring. she made me dinner, without being asked. went to the store without complaining. suggested a heating pad to try to ease the pain. Love....she sat and just held my hand when the pain was the worst. checked my forehead for fever while i was sleeping. Her voice. She has an absolutely beautiful singing voice, that i love to hear coming out of her room. I have been listening to her practice Silent Night day and night, wait till you hear it. It might bring tears to your eyes. My daughter. My beautiful daughter who will be 12 already (she CANT be any older than that) in just a few short days...Happy Birthday Heather. I love you.
I have been given many many gifts in my life. Most I know what to do with, a few I don't, but I will learn. Because I can.
Yup...not being able to do much the last few days has forced me to watch stupid sappy Christmas movies on some woman's channel. I know...i could change the channel, but i am horribly fascinated by the impossibly, unbelievably sweet happy endings. OK....and i like to make fun of them. Whatever.
Anyway.
So one line in a movie started me thinking about all the gifts i have in my life.
Wonderful parents, who were willing to come here for thanksgiving so that Heather and I wouldn't be alone. At least until I told her she would have to cook the whole thing. I kid...I told them to stay home. Heather and I being alone is a misconception. We aren't alone as long as we have each other, and all of you. A mother who would come all the way here to be in the hospital with me, and a father who would call in the afternoon to find out how i am. Even though he tried to disguise it as a when are you coming home call. I heard her answer your question about how i was before she told you when she was coming home. You've been busted.
Sisters...I have three. three of the most beautiful, caring, supportive and amazing women anyone will ever meet. No one could ask for better ones.
Friends. Friends who keep the laughter in my life. OK...so making up stories about whats gonna happen while I'm under the knife may be pushing it. Or making the suggestion that i should get a tattoo while I'm there. However...some of the suggestions for that tattoo were pretty damn funny. I won't mention them here...its a family blog.
You are all my family...and i know, and am eternally grateful for that gift. I didn't ask for a damn one of you...but your were given to me anyway...and you're stuck with me.
Strength. the strength to deal with awful, painful, yucky things being done to your special places in order to make something wrong right. keep your fingers crossed on that one..i won't know for a few months. If it didn't work...THAT useless piece of my body will be removed. Even if i have to do it myself. Today is the first day i have not slept all day. that i haven't been in too much pain. that i actually didn't look or feel like i was on the edge of death. that i felt good enough to leave my house for the first time since Wednesday.
Knowledge. the next time a medical professional tells me i will have a one day recovery period...i will know enough to smack them. hard.
Percoset. The guy that invented that needs his own national holiday. With parades and fireworks. he deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. I love that guy. He has replaced Toby as my next husband.
Heather. My daughter is the greatest gift i have ever gotten. You all know her..but do you know all the gifts she has and shares with me? Imagination..."i thought they were gonna do this thing with a blow torch or something". Curiosity. She told me she raised her hand in biology and said "my mother is getting her uterus fried tomorrow. how do they actually do that?" she assures me that she didn't really do that, but I'm not sure i believe her. Humor. I yelled at her the other day (i was a little cranky) and she looked at me and said "fried uterus on the edge!" That kid is soooooooooo funny. I think she gets that from me. Caring. she made me dinner, without being asked. went to the store without complaining. suggested a heating pad to try to ease the pain. Love....she sat and just held my hand when the pain was the worst. checked my forehead for fever while i was sleeping. Her voice. She has an absolutely beautiful singing voice, that i love to hear coming out of her room. I have been listening to her practice Silent Night day and night, wait till you hear it. It might bring tears to your eyes. My daughter. My beautiful daughter who will be 12 already (she CANT be any older than that) in just a few short days...Happy Birthday Heather. I love you.
I have been given many many gifts in my life. Most I know what to do with, a few I don't, but I will learn. Because I can.
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