A Christmas Family - The Adoption

For as long as I have been writing here, I have always prided myself on being honest.  In life, out here. I am simply not a good liar.  Lies build on lies and I'm too scatterbrained to keep track of them all.  To tell the story I want to tell you, I have to change the story, change names and events a bit as to give this family the privacy and the pride they deserve.

I was very blessed in my life.  Honestly, I did not want for anything. I almost always was given everything I asked for at Christmas, except for one thing.  Family.  My mom often worked Christmas.  As a single mom, the opportunity to be paid double time, couldn't be overlooked.  Some years, I spent with the neighbors and I spent a few years with my sister and her husband's family, and one year with my brother and his girlfriend's family. In high school, we spent Christmas with my boyfriends family.  My family, as a whole did/does not get together at Christmas. 

Yet, there is still the worst Christmas.  The Christmas my parents had a huge argument. I was young, I don't remember exactly but, younger than 10.  I remember them yelling.  I remember her pushing him.  I remember calling my sister to come.  I remember my mom and my sister fighting, I vision the wrestling (I was young) and my sister had a scratch on her cheek, it was bleeding.  My mom put it there (I remembered this Christmas and the scratch on her face as two different events.  I recently learned they were one in the same).  I remember the policeman sitting on the piano bench, wearing his furry winter hat, talking to me.  I do not remember his words.  We were taken from my parents that night.  It was Christmas Eve. I went to a friend's house.  I don't know where everyone else went.  Another of my sisters brought me the next day to open gifts with my mom.  It was only the 3 of us.  And my mom was MAD!  This happened often at Christmas, her losing control.

I will never forget waking up that Christmas morning at my friend's house.  There was some confusion over stockings, hers and mine were mixed up and we had to trade.  I remember them opening gifts and I just wanted to be in my home with my gifts. 

Around Thanksgiving, through a friend of a friend, I heard about a family having a tough go.  Dad couldn't find steady work, with four kids, two not in school - day-care would eat most of mom's earnings.  They had the family but, there was to way for them to have Christmas.  They weren't even sure they could have heat for the winter.  I talked to my friend about this family for a few days.  Learning as much as I could about them.  Like I couldn't hear enough!  I went home one night and said to Jeremy, we have to help this family.  We have to do something.  No matter what I thought of, it wasn't enough.  Sure, we could spare a couple hundred dollars but, that wasn't going to do much for them.  I was driving into work one morning, trying to figure it out when the light went on!  My department - at work - we could adopt them!  We talked about it last year - a different family but, we could do it this year!

I couldn't get to work fast enough that morning!  I found the executive admin. for one of our Vice Presidents and asked her what she thought and with tears in our eyes, we decided to go for it!  I was so relieved - I found a way to help this family!  I was so excited!  I called my friend and told her our plans and she and I cried some more!

I got a list from the family and these little elves went to town!  Sheets, blankets, sleds, boots, slippers, coats, books, movies, games, toys, dog food, laundry soap, paper towel, tools, dishes, toilet paper, we filled box after box!  Not only that, we took a collection to fill their propane tank and $1000.00 was raised.  I spoke with my friend, as well as the mom to this family quite a bit over these weeks.  I remember the mom asking what she should do for her kids for Christmas, I simply said, "Nothing.".  There was nothing left to do!  I knew the pile of gifts that was here.  (I can't share with you, sorry!) I was totally impressed with this family.  Knowing they had help coming, they were able to get a 2nd car on the road, and dad lined up a couple of job interviews.  We could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I could see the relief on these parents, knowing help was there.

Daily.  Daily I was asked about our family.  How are they doing?  Did dad find work?  How are the kids?  Do they need this?  Do you think they could use this?

I was amazed at the generosity I witnessed.  I came in to my office one morning to find a circular saw - yes, a saw, sitting on my desk.  Every time someone brought me money for propane, I cried.  One man alone gave me a check for $200.00.  I bawled!  My favorite story, one man brought me a tag from the tree (we broke their wish list down into tags - whoever wanted to donate could take a tag) for a girl's bike.  He said he had a boy's bike at home, would it be OK to clean it up for the boy.  I didn't see a problem with it.  A few minutes later, he came back with the tag for the boy's bike and he said to me "I couldn't buy the girl a brand new bike and not the boy."  I cried all day.

It took about 10 people to load it all up into four vehicles.  Three trucks, myself, and four of my co-workers left here to take Christmas to this family...wow!  So much more than I could have done by myself.

This got really long, really fast - I'll share the delivery tomorrow.

Have you noticed?

A simply random compilation of things I have noticed. I hope to make it a fun list too - not all serious. My mind comes up with the oddest things. My husband usually laughs at them (or shakes his head wondering) and I thought to myself , "Self, why should he have all the fun?". We'll see what the response is and I might do it again.

Kids don't play with other kids anymore. No sleepovers. No "Mom? Can so-and-so come over after school?"

Parents don't let their kids just be kids.

No one likes to wait in line or waits their turn.

I have seen more underwear outside of my home than we own combined!

Teenage girls don't babysit anymore and those that do, don't without their parents.

I didn't zip my winter coat in high school and I don't zip it now.

My son will never know what it's like to wear bread bags in his boots!

People get confused at 4 way stops.

My coffee order is as complicated as buying cigarettes once was.

There is a line somewhere south of Ludington that defines "up north" (where i I'm from) from "Grand Rapids" (anywhere South of Muskegon).

Jacob's teeth always hurt during dinner but, never before a dessert or snack.

"I just want to look (at the toys)" ALWAYS brings tears when mom won't buy one.

Making a special trip to the $1 store for the same brand name items that you could have bought while you were in the Wal*Mart for only 97 cents!

Washing our recycling. We didn't wash it before when we were throwing it in the trash.

People drive BIG trucks and they can't fit them into one parking space.

If the parents who walk their kids into school everyday are going to continue this routine throughout high school and college. We're talking 5th graders, folks.

I'm also open to suggestions!

Creature of Habit

I'm pretty vanilla (unexciting, normal, conventional, boring. - Compliments of the Urban Dictionary.  Especially when it comes to clothing or shoes.  I don't like heels, I don't like flash, I don't like loud or bright colors. It's okay, you can think it. I said it. Vanilla.

See these:

(photo from Shoebuy.com)These are my most favorite shoes.  I have owned a pair in every color (I was wearing the brown ones in front when my foot was run over by a car - the tread pattern of the tire never did come out!) at some point over say the last, oh, 10 years.  They work with dress pants, they work with jeans.  But, Eastland shoes stopped making them.

I have been on a search for something like them for a very long time.  My last pair is so ratted on the inside, they're now hurting my feets.  :(  Yet, I still haven't thrown them away.  But, they're my last pair!

I ordered these - well, something similar online from Onlineshoes but, I don't care for them.  They are made by Born but, the sole is a bit hard and it makes noise on the floor - like dress shoes.  I prefer a softer, quieter sole.  I have these in brown and black but, the brown is kind of light and shiny and they remind me of an old lady's purse

This weekend, we took a trip to the mall.  Laugh.  Go ahead.  Jeremy did when I asked if we could go.  I.  I went to the mall.  (I NEVER go to the mall - I order online.  Always.)  And I bought new shoes.  Not one pair but, 2.  2 pairs of shoes.  At the mall.

I found these:



(photo from Dillards.com)They are very comfortable.  They do look good with either jeans or my work pants.  She did have to stretch the instep of one for me and they fit great.  They do look a bit orthopaedic with that extra leather on the toe but, I could wear these all day!

And because one pair is never enough, and well...I was already there.  I also bought these:






(photo from dmusastore.com) They're men's shoes - which sometimes work better for me as the toe is just a little wider and men's shoes generally don't have the extra rivets, etc. that women's shoes have.  They are typically more plain. These are AWESOME with jeans.  They almost look like boots.

As for the mall, I also found a few jar candles on clearance at the Yankee Candle Store.  And Jacob had his first experience at Build-A-Bear Workshop!  You know what, it wasn't so bad.  I might go there again...in a few years. 

Reorg: Spice cupboard

My house is OLD.  Very old.  Jeremy spent a day at the courthouse and traced it back to a sale in 1907.  It was built prior to that.  My kitchen, is probably just as old!  I have 2 - yes, I said 2 upper cabinets in my kitchen with 3 shelves each.  I have only 13 feet of counter space with a double sink in the middle. I have a HUGE pantry in my basement but, if I organize and plan ahead a little, my lack of cupboard space isn't so bad.  We keep dishes/glassed in one and open food stuffs in the other.  I do have one more very small cupboard over my stove. I appreciate the thought but, before you make suggestions to remodel my kitchen so I add cupboards, I have 2 very large windows, 4 doorways and 2 of the 4 walls are plaster over solid brick.  Anything we do from here will require professional (both mental and physical) help!  It's a great house.  Big but, not always functional!

 

These last few weeks I have been working to find a better way to organize/store spices.  I found an idea on Pinterest, if you write on a glass jar with a Sharpie marker and bake the glass for 30 minutes at 350° it will set the ink.  It does work - somewhat.  Just writing on the glass with a Sharpie, will wipe off with your finger and certainly in the dishwater.  This makes it a little tougher to rub off.  I also used some Martha Stewart adhesive stencils to fancy them up a bit.

 

This is my before.  Isn't that ugly?  It doesn't scream "Cook", more like "Shut the damn door!"

 

My first set up to see how many of the new jars would fit on the new "Three tiered organizer".

I think I need to order some more jars!

Ah, there we go!  I also bought a few smaller jars to fit right in the front for the spices I don't buy as much of - also, I plan to install a magnetic knife bar on the top of the shelf.  All the lids are stainless and to suspend them from the top gives me more shelf space.  :D

Now that cupboard says "don't you need to cook something?"

"I have a dream"

I read this morning that 2013 will be the 50th anniversary of this speech.  I watched this speech this morning for the very first time - that is giving it my undivided attention but, I have read it more times that I can count.  I've included the link if you'd like to watch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smEqnnklfYs

I couldn't help but think about the 2nd paragraph here  - where he says "But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free..." I'm listening to this, closer to another 50 years later, and I wonder is he still not free?  Sure, he's free to choose any seat on the bus, live in any home he can afford but, is he free from the stereotype?  I'd like to say 'yes'.  I'd like to believe that our ignorance has changed in 50 years. I realize there is so much more to segregation than what I have listed and I'm not trying to minimize civil rights.  I do think in our own hearts there is so much we can do amongst ourselves, in our communities to open our hearts, accept people as they are, and to treat them as we'd like to be treated.  Call me naive, yes I do believe it is truly that simple.  We all have a dream!

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Crossing Betty

I'm really excited to share this story with you - and then I promise, we'll get off of this subject of death!

The night of Christmas Day (Dec. 25), I went to bed and I got this whiff of orange/vanilla cake and lavender.  It was quite faint but, I'd catch it every now and again.  I knew we had company and I knew she wasn't ready to talk to me.  I will describe this "knowing" often.  I wish I could explain it to you better but, it's just that, a knowing, a certainty.  I went to sleep thinking she'd be ready to talk in the morning.

When I woke (Dec 26) to the smell of vanilla and orange.  I knew she was still there.  She wasn't making herself known to me, and she still wasn't speaking.  As the day went on, I could feel her anxiety rising.  I could feel her pacing, I could sense her uneasiness yet, she still wasn't close enough.  I spoke to a friend who also has experience with spirits, around noon telling her what was going on.  The more time passed, the more anxious my little grandma was getting.  I told my friend I should just share on Facebook but, I don't know enough about her to say anything!

I told my friend I'd get back to her later in the day, I was going to take a shower knowing that the water sometimes strengthens the spirits.  I asked her who she was, why she was here and what she needed.  I could feel her presence at this point but, she was so unsettled.  She was still pacing still wringing her hands.  I knew I'd brought her closer but, still not close enough.  All I could get her to say to me was "Kuh".  It was almost as if she was ashamed after she said it - she just hung her head.

As the day wore on, Jacob had a play date in which the mom and younger sister stayed for a few hours but, this woman was still there - still pacing, still with the hand wringing - she was talking now saying "I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to do it.  I didn't mean for this to happen.  I'm so so sorry."  She was so frantic!  I'm telling you she had me pacing.  My heart was racing.  I'm wringing my hands.  I almost wish Jeremy would have been home to witness it!  I couldn't sit still!  The anxiety of this woman was consuming me!

I couldn't take it anymore, about 7/8:00, I sat down and said, "What is your name?  Who are you?"

"Betty"

"Betty, honey, what happened to you?" I asked.

"I'm so so sorry.  I didn't mean it."

I remembered what my friend had said, "Maybe you need Facebook to help her."

At this point, I would have tried anything!  I went to Facebook and typed a status update, "Does anyone have a mother or grandmother named Betty who has passed or recently passed?" and I hit enter.  I'm out of the closet.  Putting myself out there to 249 people who now know that I have a spirit named Betty hanging out in my living room.

Not 5 minutes passed, and my sister, my sister that I was so afraid would find out about this asked me "What's with this Betty?"

I replied to her, "Are you sitting down?  Do you believe in Ghosts? Well, they visit me sometimes.  And I have an older woman named Betty here today and I don't know what she needs."

My sister, who has goosebumps, sends me this link:

One killed in Kalkaska crash

By Jeff Broddle

KALKASKA — A Manistee woman has been killed and a passenger in a second car was injured in a crash in Kalkaska County's Boardman Township.
 

According to Kalkaska County Sheriff David Israel, Betty Jane Zimmerman, 87, was killed while attempting a left turn from a motel parking lot onto U.S. 131 when her vehicle was struck by a vehicle driven by a Petoskey man.
 

According to police reports, a passenger in the second car, Geraldine Gerred, 76, was taken to Kalkaska Memorial Hospital and treated for injuries. Robert Gerred, 70, also of Petoskey, drove the second vehicle, which was traveling north on U.S. 131. The crash occurred around 10 a.m. Wednesday. (December 26)
 

Israel said the incident remains under investigation. 

 

All the bells and whistles went off!  I am from Manistee - born and raised.  My grandparents lived in Boardman Township for 50 plus years!  In fact, the cemetary where they are buried is at the corner of Boardman Road and US131.  And that also explains why my grandpa was here!  He was waiting for her!

Betty was killed in this car accident.  Her soul was lost.  She didn't know she had died and she was afraid of the light!

 

Poor Betty.  She'd caused this accident.  She didn't mean to do it.  She didn't see the other car.  I called my grandpa back and asked him to help Betty home to Heaven.  She is at peace with The Father.  No more cigarette smoke, no more orange/vanilla cake.  My sister and 249 other people now know I have spirits in my living room once in a while and I find it a little odd that the one person I didn't want to know about my gift gave me the answers I needed.  I like how these things work out.

 

And I, I got my first crossover, I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference!

 

By the way - anyone know who this young guy is that smells of leather and really nice aftershave?

The Spirits of Christmas

Some of you may know this and some of you may be in shock after you read this but, spirits come to visit me and I generally know they are here by smell.  For instance my dad, he's around most often and he smells like gun oil.  One of my fondest memories of him is sitting at the dining room table while he cleaned his hunting rifle with gun oil.  If you have ever smelled it, you know how unique that is and there is no way to mistake it for something else and nothing else that smells like it. He generally comes to me when I'm stressed or upset, generally in my not so fine moments and he gently reminds me to be patient, to be kind, to breathe.  I do occasionally hear his voice but, most often it's his hand on my shoulder and the disappointment he would have shown me when he was here.  And it feels just as if he's right next to me!

Christmas Day, and the days leading up to it, I was constantly smelling cigarette smoke.  At times it was faint, at times it would burn my nose, it was so strong.  I kept asking Jeremy and Jacob if the could smell it and the answer was always "No."  Finally, I said out loud "Who are you?", and I heard a whisper "Grandpa" and I knew it was my Grandpa Nolff, Edna's father.  I took this photo of Jacob on Christmas.  Can you see the huge orb on your left?  Say "Hi" to my grandfather.  He spent Christmas with us. 

My sister, Valerie, and I wish I could explain this to you better but, she is always with me.  She doesn't give me a scent but, simply a knowing.  I know she is always with me.  I feel her.  Once in awhile, I'll hear her laugh.

Until Christmas, it's only been my dad and my sister with me.  Grandpa was a new visitor and I wondered why now?  He's been gone for a little over 20 years!  They say after 20 they don't come back...but, who is to say "they" know everything! 

I went to bed the night of Christmas day, and I said to Jeremy, "I smell orange/vanilla cake and lavender".  I could see a glimpse - like someone showed me a photo of an old woman, gray hair, the old cat's eye glasses.  It resembled a church directory photo.  I remember saying to him, "I don't know who she is but, she needs help".  I went to sleep that night dreaming of orange/vanilla cake.  I don't like orange vanilla cake.

Think about this today for tomorrow, I'll tell you about the woman with the cake! 

From the archives: Random thoughts, and just...Us: Going Home

We have been touched by so much death lately.  It always makes me think of my own, and what I want to happen with the physical me when I pass away.  It's time to share this again.

Random thoughts, and just...Us: Going Home: Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there: I do not sleep I am a thousand winds that blow I am the diamond glints off snow I am the s...

Happy 7th Birthday Jacob!

My mom's brother Dan was killed in Vietnam in 1966.  My grandparents gave my brother Uncle Dan's Lionel train.  A few years ago, we had Christmas with my brother and he had his train out around his Christmas tree and my Jacob fell in LOVE!  Finally, this year, my 7 year old boy got his train, "Just like Uncle Dude's!"

Small celebration this year.  He asked for cake and bowling.  That's what we gave him and wouldn't you know, my little boy, he beat us all at bowling with a 114!

Happiest of Birthdays to you my 7 year old boy!

Mourning

“If you have ever lost a loved one, then you know exactly how it feels. And if you have not, then you cannot possibly imagine it.” ~ Lemony Snicket 

 

Mourning, grieving, crying, hurt, and loss.  They all go together.  I have mourned, grieved, cried, hurt and lost so many, my father, grandparents, my sister, good friends and two unborn children.  The older I am, the more loss there seems to be.  It doesn't get any easier, this mourning.  It seems to always be there and just when we've finished with one, another sneaks in behind it. 

 

Death is often with me.  Spirits come and go.  Some speak with me, some don't.  I often think of these people, who they were in life.  Why they come to me.  Seriously, in my own experiences with death, I have experienced more loss before I was 30 than most of you will experience ever but, I always think of the people who are left behind.  I already know the person who passed has already gone home.

 

I think of my mom, burying her daughter.  How does a mother bury her child?

 

I think of my sister, she was with my dad when he passed. How does a daughter watch life escape with her daddy's last breath?

 

I think of Jacob's grandpa, he married his high school sweetheart.  How does a husband say goodbye to his wife?

 

I think of my dear friend, she met a co-worker.  They married, started a business together, raised their children, had a life together.  What do you do when you wake up and find he's passed on in the night?

 

I think of my babies, the precious unborn souls. How do you accept?  How do you begin to heal?

 

I don't know the answers and they are my own questions. There are no rules to mourn.  There is no time limit on grief.  Everyone sees it differently, everyone handles it differently.  There is no right, there is no wrong.

 

It seems to be easier for me when people are older, have health issues or chronic illness.  It's easier for me to think that their journey here on Earth is done.  To think they are healed in Heaven, and free from pain.  I believe that our loved ones are always with us.  If that is because I have spirits come to me, it may be, so I know they are always here. That is my belief however, whatever you need to get through, then it's the right thing for you.

 

I take great comfort in knowing my father is in Heaven with his father, his brothers, with his Heavenly Father.  I know my dad is free from his crippling disease, fishing and hunting near the Clam River that he loved so much. 

 

I know my sister is in her Heavenly home, watching over my sisters, my brother, and our children.  Keeping us safe and blessing our dreams.

 

I'm happy for Jacob's grandma to finally meet Jesus.

 

And my babies, they weren't meant to be here.  It simply wasn't their time.  I have come to accept it, somehow.  I'm still healing.

 

Mourning?  Healing?  I don't think one comes without the other.  One step, one day at a time.

Rest in Peace Grandma S.

Memories

© Louise Bailey

I feel a warmth around me
like your presence is so near,
And I close my eyes to visualize
your face when you were here,
I treasure the times we spent together
and they are locked inside my heart,
For as long as I have those memories
we will never be apart,
Even though we cannot speak any more
your voice is always there,
Because every night before I sleep
I have you in my prayer.

I'll never forget the first time I spoke to her.  I answered the phone one afternoon, shortly before Christmas and she said to me "Hello, this is Nancy S. and I'm Jacob's grandma."  We became fast friends.  I trusted her immediately with my child and I came to love her like a mother.  She introduced me as her daughter and I was honored.

There were a few late nights she'd catch me on Facebook and she'd just know I was sad.  Soon after, my phone would ring and she'd have me laughing in a matter of minutes.  I always knew when my phone rang after 10 PM that it was her!

We had so much in common, she was from Shelby and I from Manistee.  We both loved being "up north", close to the lake.  We liked to sew and craft and we talked about everything under the sun.  She'd take my arm and say "Me too!  Me too!".  We were never short on conversation - or on laughs!

She helped me to get back to church.  It was one Sunday morning, in church with them, I actually saw the ray and felt the warmth of light from a Heavenly beam shining on me.  I felt all of my angst, and all of my anger with God disappear and my faith in Him came back to me. I remember looking at her when I saw the ray to see if she was seeing it too.  I looked to see if anyone else was seeing it!  I asked her if she saw or felt the ray, she said no but, she was so happy for me to have found my faith again.  She said she was a little jealous that I got the ray and she didn't!

Jacob spent the night with her a few times and, it was there we discovered his love for toy vacuums.  He met his sisters and brother while with her.  And he often asked to go see her and we didn't go.  I feel bad, after her strokes, we lost contact.  I was afraid to visit her, not knowing what condition she was in.  I was afraid Jacob wouldn't understand.  She was in and out of different hospitals and care homes so often, that I couldn't keep track of where she was.  She'd be doing better and then worse!  We did finally visit her at home a few weeks ago - just before Jacob's 7th birthday.  She was in good spirits that day and it was a glimpse of the woman I had known.  We talked for quite some time.  I'm so happy we went to see her that day.  I'm glad to have that last memory of her.

Jacob and his Grandma, Halloween 2011.

We celebrated her life today. It eases our pain to know she is finally free from hers.  Rest in peace, Nancy.  We loved you more than you'll ever know!

The Holidays

It's true.  I totally fell into a shithouse and came out smelling like a rose.  Yeah, this is an off color start to this post but, it is nothing but truth.  I have a GREAT job.  I was fired from the job I had...16 years ago.  It was one of the WORST times of my life!  And the BEST time of my life.  You see, I was forced to move away and I got a chance to reinvent myself.  I kept some of my past under wraps, I didn't tell anyone I was fired from my old job.  And when I moved into this job, they knew I had a background in Electronics but, I never told them or any of the suppliers, or supplier representatives where I got said background.

I remember my first year working here, I started November 17, 1996.  Just before Thanksgiving.  I had to have 90 days in to be paid for the holiday, so I worked.  Christmas shutdown rolled in the next month, again, I had to have 90 days in to be paid for the holiday, so I worked.  I didn't mind.  I had some debts to clear up.  Which I did.  I worked the holidays the next few years as well.  Simply for the extra money.

I didn't define holiday very well now did I?  This is the part where I smell like the rose.  I work in Automotive.  And "The Big Three" as well as the littler three, all shut down for the holiday season.  Nothing builds, nothing ships in or out.  So nothing ships in or out of my office.  For me, the Christmas holiday, well this year it began at noon on Friday, December 21 and I came back to my office on Wednesday, January 2.  Yes, I am paid for those 7 business days as holiday pay.  It's like an extra week of vacation!  I typically work a bit here and there, check email and approve some invoices so I'm not as far behind on the return to my desk.  This year, I spent a lot of time with Jacob.  So much so that he cried when I had to go back to work.  :(

I didn't take or share many pictures over the holiday but, here are just a few.

It was a helicoptor kind of Christmas (and he LOVES them!)

Jeremy and I both laughed at this visit to Santa.  This was the night of Jacob's 7th Birthday (I'll share some photos of that later) and Santa asked Jacob what he wanted for Christmas.  It was A Christmas Story flashback for Jeremy and I when Jacob says "A basketball."  We have like 3 basketballs in the basement, and this kid has talked nothing but trains for months and months!

Has Santa ever left you a thank you note?

Kelsey and I did A LOT of this!  Though it was more of her sleeping ON me.



Birthday pictures to come soon!  As soon as I find that other memory card!

Happy New Year!

2013?  Already?  Wow!  I turn 40 this year!  Yes, that was my first thought.

And after that thought, came what am I going to write about now?  I'm not one for resolutions but, I have come across a few things this year that I do want to apply to myself, or make a more conscious effort to do or to practice.

Such as:

I believe we all have parts of us we would like to be better or to improve.  I think we all wish for better health, more money, to magically drop some weight.  In all honestly, I believe we can create much better luck if you will, for ourselves if we simply put our best foot forward and work hardest on being the best person we can be.

I wish you all a safe and happy 2013!