...little things

Last night as I brushed my teeth, I was reminded of something my Dad told me recently.

He said, "it's funny because it's the little things that make him miss Mom the most".

He told me over the 50 years he and Mom were married, some things she did just drove him nuts. (I'm quite sure he did her as well). He said, he always tried to get her to squeeze the toothpaste from bottom up.  She always just squeezed it from the middle and he hated that.  He constantly found himself "fixing" the tube, curling the end tightly to get every bit of the paste.  Now that he doesn't have Mom to share the toothpaste with, it makes him sad to see the tube as he left it, and not "messed up".

I thought about all the little things my own Hubby does, that drive me crazy.  And the things I do that drive him "nuts" as well.  One day, we will miss that.

My Dad is doing amazingly well since my Mom died.  He still blames himself.  He knows he was a "burden" and his demanding needs wore her down.  No matter how hard I try to explain it wasn't his fault, I can't change what he feels.

It's funny,  Because he can't convince me either that I wasn't to blame. Mom and I had a strained relationship to say the least.  I do not blame her for that.  Her illness, her mental state, is to blame.  She was sick, and did not mean the things she did.  Still I wonder if only I had done more, forced my presence into their lives, could I have changed the outcome?  Could I have made their lives more comfortable, less stressful?  Could I have convinced her to make different choices? Could I have given her what she needed?

I realize I can't change what happened.  And I can not put myself through the should of, could of, would of's.  Still, no matter how hard I try, I feel the pain of maybe I did not do enough.  I am a strong Christian believer that accepts, only God knows the day, hour, and minute, of our deaths. Our plan is in His hands and no matter what, we must find acceptance of what He has planned for our lives.

As I struggle to move forward and grieve her death, I also have been Blessed to have a second chance with my Father.  He has been put in my hands and I have showed him what I am capable of. He is thrilled with how things are going.  He is healthier than he has been in years.  He is laughing again, and I think he actually is enjoying life again.  He does miss Mom.  But he and I are getting through this together and in the process getting very close as we once were many years ago.  I am proud of him, and I believe he is proud of me.

One thing I have learned through my Mom's death, is not to take the little things for granted.  For these things are grander than we know.

Welcome To Heaven Barbie

I need to go ahead and write about Mom and her death.
This may be too long and too much information.  Writing is more about me and my coping and processing. So with that, I am just gonna breathe it out of my cluttered head.

Most of you did not know her other than what I portrayed here in Blog World.  I recently went back and read some of it.  I still feel that what I wrote was honest and was loving.  I truly loved my Mom.  I wanted to better understand and realize that when she was crazy, it wasn't really my Mom, but the sickness of manic and depressive behavior.  She was thought to be bi-polar by some diagnose.  She was thought to be a manic depressant. She also was diagnose as a Boarderline Personality Disorder person.  And this fit her to a tee.

I want you to know that even when others felt my "Tough Love" was cruel, and when others felt my boundaries where unnecessary, I did what I knew best to protect myself as well as to help and not enable my Mom.

For most only knew this incredible loving and wonderful woman.  I am so glad of this.  I wanted all to know that side of her & prayed that others would not see the harsh or feel the pain.  Mom was a beautiful person.  She was full of love and very generous.  She was helpful, a rescuer.  She would give a stranger whatever they needed. She was a good Mom, and a good Wife.  I have a lifetime of the best memories a person could ask for.


However, with that being said.  She also had a deep side that was very troubling.  I don't blame her.  I blame her illness. Few knew, what my Sister and I really have been through over the past 50 years.  I am not looking for sympathy or even understanding. I wrote because it helped me.  It was really a way to help myself to understand and to heal.

Looking back, especially now that my mom has died, do I wish I had done things differently? Perhaps... but I can't go backwards only forward.  I forgave my mom a long time ago. When she was manic, I coped best I could.  It is extremely frustrating and heartbreaking to see someone you love self-destruct. Especially when your hand is out and it isn't accepted.  I'm sure I could have done things differently or even better.  But, the bottom line is I can't blame myself or anyone for Mom's problems or her death.  Only God knew the exact day, hour and even minute, my mom would be released of her demons and brought home to Heaven.

The weeks before Mom's death, my sister and I were in consent contact.  We are close and we "understand" much that others can not.  My parents moved just three weeks before she died.  She was on a ... mindset.  She had decided to go headfirst into another quick decision without thinking much ahead or allowing others to give input. It is thought that my Sis and I were not "cooperating" or being supportive.  That wasn't so much the case, rather we wanted my parents to rationalize their decisions and go forward cautiously crossing T's and dotting I's.  My mom decided to have a party, prior to the big move in which my Sister and I were not able to attend.  I had hoped she would wait and have this gathering following the move but, well, Mom does things her way.

There was much concern also as she was tired.  She recently was confined to have COPD and she has been very depressed.  She had decided to move herself from her apartment as well as my father from the Assisted Living where he was, and combine their households to a side by side independent living apartments.  We had a lot of concerns...

Sis started having strange dreams, and I started having an extreme desire to see Mom.  While she usually is very much in contact with us with emails and phone, she stopped the week they moved.  Not a peep, for more than a week.  And we couldn't get through.  Internet not yet connected, her cell was not in service, and Dad did not have voice mail on his line.  We got a hold of Dad on Friday the 11th of May.  I asked if we could stop by for a visit and to see the new place (they had been there two weeks now).  He was thrilled and put Mom on the phone.  She too said yes, I could come and she would like that.  So, the next day, May 12th, I packed my girls & self in the car and met Julie and her husband & daughter as we visited Mom & Dad for a while.  There place was dismayed and still packed.  Mom continued to have not felt up to unpack.  She agreed that maybe she could use some help and made arrangements with Julie while we were there for the following Thursday to come unpack.

Our visit was nice... Mom was so ..quiescent. Not at all talkative and animated as usual. But she was smiling and enjoying her visit wit us and the girls.

On Sunday, we chatted on the phone.  i called to wish her a Happy Mother's Day as I was heading to work.  She was apologetic and grateful.  I reminded her that she had nothing to apologize for and that I loved her always. On Wednesday, I got a thank you card from her for the Mother's Day gift and visit.  On Thursday, she cancelled getting together with Sis, to finish the unpacking.

On Friday, she was dead.

I was vacuuming at around 6:30pm. Annie had some friends stopping by and I was doing a run through on the house.  I saw I missed a call from Mom & Dad while the vacuum was running. The voice mail clicked.  I hit play...
Dad: " Yeah Jan, better call me. Mom just past away. I tried to get her help but she wouldn't do it. So please call."
Me: whatttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt?  I played it over on speaker for Hubby to hear, then we tried to call Dad, Mom, Sis... again and again. I left voice mail for Sis to call me back ASAP. I then got a hold of Dad finally.  Yes, mom, died... she passed out while standing in the bathroom.  The paramedics were there now.  So was the police.  Yes, Dad, I am on my way.  then Julie called.  I carefully gave her the dreadful news and we agreed to meet at their apartment asap.

When we got there.  The Police were very kind, as were the paramedics.  We were waiting on the Coroner.  She confirmed...  It appeared, Mom had stood up, got that dizzy feeling we sometimes gets, but because she was on oxygen when she gasped, she got a burst of extra oxygen that slammed into her heart, causing it to go into cardiac arrest.  She most likely died before hitting the floor around 6:00pm.

I asked if I could go in...
She said, No.
I said, "please, I would like to see my mother now."
She said, she did not advise it and preferred me to wait till the funeral director gets her to prepare her, them we can see her.
I said, "well, I really want to see my mom now.. not later.  I understand that my mom may not look good.  I understand that she may have had body fluids leave her body... that I have worked hospice, and I get it. But, I needed to see her now. Right now".
A bit more arguing then, she let me go see my mom.

I touched her hand that peeked out of the cover. It was cold.. I uncovered her sweet face... I stroked her temple. The way I use to as a child. It was something I would do to comfort her when she was overwhelmed or sad.  I would sit with her, sometimes even on her lap, and stroke her temple forehead. pulling the tension away, calming her ever so.  I sat there on the floor, stroking my mom.. I told her it was okay.  I told her she could go home now. I told her not to worry anymore.  That it was okay.  That I would take care of Dad, and it was time for her to go home. I told her I loved her. I felt her peace.  I felt mine.

I am very grateful for those few moments alone with my mom. I needed them.

They took Mom's body. and we were left with Dad.  He didn't want to leave.  He wanted to stay and assured us he was okay.  We agreed, and since it was late, we headed home.

The next few days were fuzzy.  Our main priority was to get Dad in proper care.  He is fairly independent, but because of his many health problems and the fact that Mom did much of everything for him, we needed him in a safer environment. We all agreed (with Dad's Blessings to start the process of moving him closer to me.  That where he was (40 minutes west of me and 70 minutes east of Julie, was not an idea location.  Moving him to the East side made more sense as many of his friends, family can now visit with him.  My Sis plans to move back closer to this area also before too long so it was agreed.  Also, Dad agreed to assisted living as he was familiar with it while he briefly lived in AL while in Greencastle.  He liked the idea of having his own apartment, and still having a dining hall (with great food), nursing on staff, as well as a bunch of other opportunities.  Also, my In Laws live just 3 doors down from Dad at this wonderful place. So it came highly recommended.

We also, had to go through funeral arrangements.  We knew what Mom wanted. She had it laid out in her lock box.  We honored her wishes as well as added some love. Annie made these wonderful book markers.  They were just the ticket... gave everyone a smile as this is the Barb they loved.

Mom had two beautiful services.  First, at her church in Greencastle, a beautiful service, by a loving Pastor. Second, a Celebration of Life, held in Indianapolis.  Here we gathered, shared Barb stories, tears, and laughs.

what was left of the Barbie Bangles

My mom had a lot of Flare.  She loved big earnings, noisy bracelets, and bright fun colors.  I had gathered dozens (maybe a hundred) bracelets and bangles that Mom had worn over the years.  I placed them in a big Fish Bowl with a note asking for all to take one, in remembrance of my mom. This was a huge hit.  I looked around the room, seeing her friends wearing the Barbie Bangles as we started calling them.  It was beautiful.  Over the next week, I got wonderful messages of how much they were loved and appreciated, as well as where they were going wearing them.

There were lovely flowers as well as donations made to Mom's favorite charities... The Putnam County Humane Society and The St Andrews Non Food Pantry where my mom gave much of her time to help those less fortunate than herself.

We had a bunch of picture boards.  Much fun to see the many faces of Barb.. And the many hair styles and colors..lol.  Mom LOVED to jazz it up! She enjoyed coloring her hair, perming her hair, a variety of hair styles as well as wigs.  She was adorable in these many photos.  Prior to the funeral, I had the picture boards at home.  I caught my cat, Mischa, starring at the many pictures... moving across, looking in depth to each one.

I was thrilled to see so much love at Mom's services.  Just seeing a roomful of people that loved her so was wonderful.  At one point, an old friend approached me.  She said some things... some cruel things.  Some blameful things.  It was very unexpected and hurtful. I was very gracious.  I tried to change the tone. But as I saw, it wasn't going to happen, I said, I was sorry she felt this way, HOWEVER, my Father is sitting right here... close-by.  He just lost his wife of 53 years.. I just lost my Mom... we are trying to celebrate her life as positive as we can, and that I do believe it was time for her to leave. I calmly asked her husband to take her out..now.  And I retreated to the restroom, where I broke down in a heap...  Who could be so cruel?  Why was she so mean?  I quickly had friends & Sis surround me, and the love was uplifting.  As things were being said, I suggested (through my tears), that we all mourn differently.  That she said what she felt must be said. That, it is done, and best we could do is to Pray for her, as surely, her words, needed prayer.  Who am I to pass judgement?  She spoke what she felt and knew.  As we reentered the room, composing myself, I must say I was a bit tickled to see a couple of my dad's buddies (Oldies that is) scanning the place, making sure this negative person had left the building.  It was very sweet to see them so protective. I knew my Mom.  She would never want someone to put blame or say such things. I'm just relieved this person ran into me rather than my Sister.

With Mom's funeral services complete, we focused on the task of getting Dad moved as well as taking over Power of Attorney and taking care of his financial and medical needs.  I have been introduced into the world of the Veteran's Hospital, and the medicare system.  Dad gave us quiet a scare...Thankfully, we were at the new Assisted Living facility, visiting and got to see first handedly how prompt and caring they are. Dad went into a diabetic crash, sugar down to a 37 (35 is diabetic coma).  We got to know the local fire department as well as the paramedics.  I was terrified as I thought I was about to lose my Dad just two weeks following Mom.  Within 35 hours he went the opposite way with a high sugar at 408.  We are so grateful to now have him in a place where he can be regulated.  With a dining schedule and medication schedule as is he is flying toward a healthier sugar levels as well as general health.  And he is starting to show some happiness.  He is starting to laugh again.

Cousin Shari with Dad

My precious cousin Shari came to visit us and to help us with dad.  I didn't realize how much we needed her till she actually got here.  She is a blessing.  Dad said she "Sharitized" his place, as she spent much time with him and getting things organized.  (Dad can't tell Shari NO like he does Sis & I).

My role as a daughter has changed.  I am now also a caretaker.  I am a power of attorney.  Dad depends on me and Sis now. I'm now a Motherless daughter. Not an easy role, but one that I must accept.

The road is not over, it has just begun.

I will honor Mom.  I will take good care of Dad.  I will make Mom proud.

whew... this was long, but so therapeutic. thanks for lending your ear. 

Trying Hard to Breathe through This..

Julie, Mom & Me May 11th, 2012

I am so behind...
I was just about to post to play catch up.  Have so much to say and it has been too long. I'm thinking, this evening I will post.
Wrong.  Not this Friday night...

My Mom has died.

I will write later, but I am so overwhelmed trying to get things in order and plan a funeral, and take care of my Father.  And grieve.

For now, any warm positive energy and prayers would be so welcomed.  Please pray that we will be strong.

Rest My Dear Rocky

My Sweet Rocky has passed away.
He Blessed us with 18 of his 19-20 years. Back in 1995 I had rescued a frail kitten, named Mario, and nursing it back to health, while also tending our two older cats, Baby and Eastwood. We also had a couple of dogs and my girls were in grade school.  Add the 2 kids I baby-sat, and a Hubby... I had a houseful!
On Halloween night, Rocky, whom had been a stray for a while in the neighborhood, was a target for some naughty boys that lived next door. My Hubby, decided he'd let Rocky stay...just for Halloween in our garage for safe keeping.  Rocky was very grateful. His muscular build with large scarred jaws, curled up on a blanket, purring loudly, showing his thanks for the bowl of kitty chow & water.
I really did not think we would keep him.  He was a big ole Tom Cat! Nothing like my "housecats". He had a little "cat house" shelter on the porch. We did not let him in. I had just sold our home and didn't need the ciaos of cats becoming territorial.  However, during the home inspection, the new buyers let him in... where my dogs & existing cats had a hay-day destoring the house in an hours time!
Even so, the day we moved, I dropped Rocky & Mario off to be neutered and "spend the night" at the Vet while we got settled into the new home. The next day they joined us and found their niche and the peaking order fell into place.

The Boys sharing a snooze

He and Mario became known as, "The Boys".  They slept together, played and pretty much were always found together. 

Rocky was laid back.  He was a sweet cat. He stayed out of sight, out of the way often.  Only as he got older did he prefer to be around people more.
He had a very protective side.  When Hubby worked long hours, Rocky would perch himself by a window... growing (like a dog) at people that walked too close to our home. He was my Watch Cat. Always alerting the dogs BEFORE someone actually approached the door.

He never complained. Never tore anything up or missed the liter box.  Even on his last days, he manage to find the liter box.
His vision failed almost a year ago, followed by loss of hearing and arthritis. He always just adapted... never fusing or complaining.

The past couple of weeks have been touchy. He started a strange cry that we have never heard. But as soon as we touched him, he'd give his sweet, "Murr".  It was as if he got confused...lost. And as soon as we would get him, he'd murr and purr.  He slept a lot. He ate a lot (spoiled with canned kitten chow as it was rich in protein and easy to eat). Yesterday, he had trouble eating... then couldn't get comfortable and rest. He throw up, hard. This either twisted his tummy, intestines, or my Veterinarian, suggest it may have triggered another stroke. Rocks struggled... He couldn't straighten or walk. He quickly grew labored, and showed pain or stress. We made that difficult drive to our Vet, holding and loving him to the end. My Dear Vet, is truly a man that loves animals. He spoke so softly to my old Kitty, reminding him of funner times and spoke of his dear Buddy Mario (whom past several years ago).

It is so awful to lose a pet. They are so generous and love us so unconditionally. They live such short but impacted lives. They touch us and can teach us so much.
Even my Lovies that are with me for the shortest time, I wouldn't trade those moments and memories for anything♥

Mortality Preparation

I'm at an interesting place.
Thinking about mortality, and how one prepares for the unavoidable, death...

end of life...

Many people can't even talk about death, let alone think about or plan.
But, sometimes we are put in a situation where we must. Maybe about ones own death, or about a loved ones.

Have you ever had a pet that was getting old, slowing down, and you knew, time was short? As a good pet owner, you take your pet to the vet, get the medications they need, and do everything we can to keep Fido or Fluffy comfortable.  As he declines, we have a choice. We have all been there. Those that really loved a pet. Having to make that decision. For us, it has always been a pretty clear line. As long as the pet, is eating, drinking, pottying, and purring. As long as he is happy and comfy, we hang on making "end of life", as bearable as possible.  Once suffering is involved, we go for the euthanasia option. We have done it all for our furry loves. Hand feeding, carrying, cleaning after, and loving as unconditionally as they have loved us. My oldie pets have gone blind, deaf, and had movement difficulties.  But, we tended their every need until they died.  Sometimes, choosing to euthanasia when they suffered.. Horrible hard place to be, but we try to be humane and do the right thing.

When the same is true with our loved human family and friends, it is a different story.
When we know one is suffering, so many of us handle it differently. While we pretty much all agree that bring on the drugs to reduce pain, but even that has many feeling differently.
When we know that death is upon us, what do we do?  What would you do?

Many people react with different feelings depending on if we are talking about our own death or our loved ones pending death.
I know that some are frightened and close up. They avoid the dying having difficult seeing that person, "that way". Others step in to nurturing mode, taking over every need they can handle and then some.

As a Hospice volunteer, I am getting a glimpse into the dying world at a different angle. I'm involved, but I'm not emotionally involved. {please don't misinterpret that, what I am referring to is the fact that I am not related or know the person, other than in this situation in which I have been trained to care for. I am still a very compassionate and nurturing volunteer}.

I see people take on incredible strength physically and ability. A tiny woman, somehow managing to lift, assist and care for a Husband twice her size. A man become a gentle expert at assisting with delicate matters with his Wife.

They keep going and never stop, until they crash.  I'm lucky enough to be able to step in and give a needed break or assist in some simple things we may not ever realize someone needed. The caretaker never ask for help.

In the caretakers task, as well as caring for their loved one, they have to take care of preparing for the death.  Funeral arrangements, wills, insurance.  A world of paperwork and task. The tiny woman, suddenly realizes she has nothing appropriate to wear to her Husband of 50 years funeral, as she has lost so much weight in caring for him.  The Husband caretaker, is trying to figure out how he will take care of the children without her. Their are so many things running through there heads, and they don't dare ask for help from the family member that can be near the dying because it upsets them so.

And then there is ourself.
What do we want?  We certainly don't want to be a "burden". Should we have a living will?  A "do not resuscitate" order? 
Will we be able to handle "knowing"?
Will we fear it?
Or will we embrace it?

I think I know how I will handle it. But until I am there, I really don't know. Every situation can be so different.

I do know, as I watch over my 18 year old cat struggling yet happily getting through each day. And as I watch patients in Hospice I volunteer with, it is something that I think about.
Something I respect.

My Mouning Dove

Yesterday I buried a Mourning Dove.  It was sitting upward in the yard, with it's tail up, and it's head down. It didn't have a mark on it, but it was very dead.
I buried it because it seemed like a friend.  It, and it's partner, have lived here in my yard longer than we. I have grown very fond of the pair, and the familiar cooing song they made together.
They hung out beneath my finch feeder, eating the spillage on the ground. They lived in my trees, my neighbors trees, and hung out on the roofs as well.  I don't know what happened. But as my family says, "it's nature Mom". It happens every day.
I can't tell you how sad I was seeing it had died.  I scooped it up and gently placed it in the bushes.  But then I worried about the little body and the elements decaying it.  I worried about it's partner, seeing it there and not being able to do anything about it.  I worried about my cat, Mischa, and my dog Dakota, getting a hold of and the possibility of getting sick (I don't know how this little guy died, and also we all know that a decomposing bird can harbor disease.)
I went to this little guy, and decided to bury it. As I would a pet. The catch... I buried it next door. Don't be getting all in my face telling me  I can't do that... The house is vacant.  It's for sale (bank owned). The previous owner would have wanted me to bury here as well. I picked a nice quiet spot under a tree, where nothing will bother it, nor be planted there.  I buried it deep, and flattened the ground. You can't even tell something was buried there.
Meanwhile, it's devoted partner came to visit me today. It sat under the finch feeder and watched me. I spoke to it. It spoke to me.  And then it was gone. I hope it will return.

It is said that a Mourning Dove has a lifetime of 5-7 years when living free.
It is also said that they take a partner for life.

They spend their whole lives with the one partner. Taking care of each other. Being exclusive and faithful.

hospice volunteer

hospice~ : a facility or program designed to provide a caring environment for meeting the physical and emotional needs of the terminally ill. 
That is the definition I found in the Merriam Webster Dictionary.
In fact, most of the definitions were very much the same, yet as I have completed my 3rd week in Hospice Training, I find it to be so much more than that.
At the Hospital that I am training with, it consist of a team that focus is caring beyond curing.

The team consist of:

• Nurse / Care Manager
• Social Worker
• Spiritual Care Coordinator
• Hospice Aide
• Therapists
• Dietians

and

• Volunteers

That's where I fall in.  My decision to become a volunteer has been pecking at me for some time. I just didn't realize what that little voice or calling was. I felt a void, but didn't realize it was a need to serve.
I have learned so much not only about Hospice, Patients, Caretakers, Family dynamics, and Death & Dying process, but about my own dynamics and my own spirituality.


This isn't for everyone.
You have to be compassionate yet genuine. You have to know how to treat one with respect not pity. Dignity not condescending.


How I see it, is, these patients are at the end of life...We will all die one day. No getting around that. However, we may not all know when our time is near. We may not experience daily pain and suffering. Worry over loved ones, financial situations, and the hereafter.  If we are lucky, we will live a grand life and peacefully die. But, that isn't the way it is for everyone. Some are faced with long grueling exhausting diseases that deplete us. Some have a shorter illness but knowing their time is short, well, I can't imagine as I have never been in this situation.

And there is the families. The friends. The feeling of uselessness as they can not protect or "save" their loved ones. The how can I make it better...What can I do for you... The anguish of failure that I can't "fix" you.


My role as a volunteer will be one of many hats. I am here not only to assist patients but to assist families. To relieve. To give an extra hand. To give some valuable time.
I may be needed to sit with a patient. To read. To talk. To laugh.
I may be needed to clean. To cook. To help with household chores.


I will be a chameleon. I will be what they need me to be.

Elizabeth Taylor

This morning the legendary glamorous Elizabeth Taylor passed away. She was 79.

The thing I loved about Elizabeth Taylor was her elegant way to deal with "stuff". She was extremely classy.

As well as being an extraordinary Film and Broadway star, she had a passion for jewelry and designed for "The Elizabeth Collection". She also had a perfume collection, Passions, White Diamonds, & Black Pearls. White Diamonds has been in the top 10 perfume sales for the past decade.

She was a larger than life participant in charities, particularly, AIDS-related charities and fundraisers. She raised awareness and enabled people to relate to and understand better a frightening disease through her humanity and knowledge.

Liz had a grace about her. Even as a child actress, an elegance and beauty deeper than physical. She was strong, desirable and likable. 

How fortunate for us to have witnessed her talents.  How Blessed her loved ones were to have her a part of their lives. 
Heaven just received another Angel.

peace now my friend

This week I tragically lost a dear friend. He was only 49.
He peacefully left this life while sleeping. In his favorite spot on the couch, TV on, remote still in his hand.

Although it comforts me that he went like this, my heart is heavy and my sadness envelops me.

Memories surround us when we lose someone we love. I have so many of my Ronnie.

Our fathers were buddies in high school so there is some deeper connection.

When I was in elementary school, my family moved into his neighborhood.  Beginning of a lifetime friendship.  In 5th grade, I developed my first crush. Ronnie was my target. My friends, Jeanette Ramey and Janice Munchell, loaded our purses with rocks, knocked Ronnie down with them, sat on him so I could steal kisses.  Poor Ronnie. it's amazing we didn't scar him for life.  During the summer, Ronnie would hold Chemistry Exhibits in his basement and charge us kids to watch him do his experiments. My friend Tammy Bayliff and I paid to come watch. It was exciting and we thought he would blow up the basement (never happened). In these early years Ronnie & I had more of a love hate relationship. Although we were the same grade, I ran more with his little brother Richie (go HERE to read a post about Richie) and sister Kim. One summer, Kim picked me to go with them on a family vacation to a lake house. Ronnie still teases me about that trip. 1st~ I threw up in his Dad's new car. Not good. 2nd~ The movie Jaws was out that year and I was TERRIFIED. Ronnie & Bobby Hughbanks convinced naive me that sharks were in this lake... I know not too bright. Ronnie got in trouble for continuing to scare the shit out of me.

When we got to high school, Ronnie and I got closer. Especially our senior year. As I dated one of his best friends, and he dated one of mine. We were now spending just about every day together. The memories and laughs we share are unbelievable.

By time we all started heading to college, Ronnie helped me decide on Vincennes University. After not getting accepted at my first choice, and having huge reservations about going out of state to a very strict religious college I got accepted to, Ronnie had the good sense to tell me to come along with him to VU for a year. So, one Saturday morning, our parents packed us both up and dropped us off three hours south of Indianapolis to a little redneck town. We had the time of our lives... Ronnie was a clever guy as well as a fun guy. He always had adventures and "situations" to get us into. With the help of fellow Indy / Vincennes buddies, particularly Maurice Musser, we made quite a time of the college experience. We trusted each other completely. He was after all the closest thing to a brother I had. We were always trying to figure ways to make money to get us to Bloomington Indiana for the weekends. For a skinny little girl, I could hold my liquor well. Ronnie would make bets I could chug drink a small bottle (a pint?) of Jack Daniels quickly and not throw up.  cool. stupid. But we made tons of money with that little trick!

Our College year together bonded us even more. He was there for me holding me together when breaking up with my first sweetheart. And I was there holding him together when his break up happened. We took care of each other. We loved each other. We were a part of each other and who we were becoming.

Into adulthood, as friends come and go, I could always count on Ronnie. He could always count on me.

Ronnie was there with me the night I met my husband, Sergio. I made him come with me on our first date. Hell, I had both his siblings there too. We had a cookout, and Sergio invited them all as he knew how unsure I was about "dating" at that time.

Ronnie lived with us for a short period when he was between places. I loved that period and enjoyed our time immensely.

Ronnie and Richie were both with me when I went into labor with my first child. We were at a Saturday evening Mass dedicated to his Grandma Love. Completely made me think Grandma Love was involved as well in a part of Emily's grand entrance to the world. Ronnie & Richie came home with me, stayed with me, timed my contractions, and while Richie was hoping to deliver her with his pre-vet skills... Ronnie was freaking out trying to get a hold of Sergio to come home from work and get me to the hospital. We made it in times, and Ronnie was one of her first visitors.

Throughout the next twenty years, as I got busy with mothering, Ronnie continued to be a strong part of our lives. His friendship with my husband and I was always much more than friendship. We were family. I will always feel the Seats as my family. Sergio was very much a big brother to Ronnie. He guided him and loved him as deeply as I.

Ronnie was hilarious. Always. He was the go to guy to make you laugh. He was the King of Limericks and of the dirtiest of all jokes. Ronnie had a magical laugh. It was contagious. No matter how foul your mood, Ronnie could make you laugh.

Ronnie is one of the culprits that is responsible for my Lynryd Skynyrd, Molly Hachett, ZZ Top, and RUSH  love. I watched many a battles of air gutiar, Lynryd Skynyrd blaring with Ronnie almost always winning. I can't listen to this music without smiling.

Ronnie was crucial for me during some rough spots. When many friends didn't step out of the comfort zones and help me, Ronnie would. He understood my depression. Ronnie helped me. We would talk about some deep stuff. Ronnie shared things with me he couldn't with others as well. We had each other on this.

Ronnie knew how to make me feel appreciated and loved. He could set things in perspective for me when he couldn't always see that for himself. He said I was guilty of that too for him.

Ronnie was too young to die. He had much still to accomplish. He was so incredible proud of his son, Nick. He was such a great father and taught his son well. He pushed him and was so proud of his accomplishments. He was looking forward to his son's graduation and final college decision. He was extremely proud of both his brother and sister. He loved his nephews so. His parents as well. How hard it must be to bury your son. How unfair it must seem.

Letting go of this one is difficult.

Puppy Love

Bruno in his favorite sleep position, hogging the bed.

Once upon a time, there was a magnificent dog by the name Bruno. This gentle giant of a Dog came to live with us when he was just about 4 months old. We wanted a companion for our Beloved Lucy Girl. Bruno was a Humane's Society Dog.

Even though he was a mixed breed, one look at his feet told us he would be a BIG dog.  Bruno grew to a healthy 125 and had a slender build. He ate a lot. He had allergies, and took allergy medicine for them. His back bothered him and he amazed us as he was smart enough to twist and align it when he slept.

This loyal Pup was a dream Dog. He stayed by Lucy's side, guided her, assist her, and slept next to her. He protected my daughters, and never once bit anyone.
When Lucy died, Bruno mourned. He continued to be a great Dog to us, but he missed her terrible. We decided to get him a little sister. Riley, was purchased at The local Pound at 5 weeks old.

Bruno wasn't too sure about this crazy ball of energy. He gentle played with her, let her razor sharp teeth hang off his body, and learn to adore her. Riley got  very sick after our first week with her (parvo) and landed in the Veterinary Hospital for several weeks. But, once she arrived home, Bruno again, stepped into protective nurse mode and tended her every need, much as he did for Lucy.

Everyone that meet Bruno, adored him. For Halloween, he donned a kitty headband and sat on the porch with me passing out candy to the children. He played, loved our family and was such a good boy.

One day, I noticed a swelling on Bruno's throat and thought he had gotten stung by a wasp. (he was always killing them when they would fly around the swimming pool. Surely to keep them away from the kids in the pool.). Off to the vet we went. But it wasn't a wasp sting... He had lymph node cancer.  There wasn't anything we could do.  Our vet found several other lumps, and would not be able to cure this. We chose to give Bruno medication to keep him comfortable for as long as possible and make the best of what time we had left. A few months later, we loss our sweet gentle giant. Too soon.  He was only five years old.

Had we known this Dog would not live long, we would have still chosen him. The love Bruno shared with us in five years are worth a hundred years. I would not have traded them.  He gave to each of us. He is still a part of us, and still in framed photos in our home.

Recently, a blog friend, Herrad, from Access Denied-living with ms  received devastating news of her Beloved Spike.

Spike has Bone Cancer. 

Herrad & her Richie, understand a thing or two about Puppy Love and about dealing with death.

Sometimes, life is so unfair. Sometimes it is very unexplainable. It certainly is unpredictable and challenging.

I think my friend would agree with me. It is worth it. You take what you get and make the best of it. You need to enjoy every second and every opportunity. You never know when it is gone. You may never know how fortunate you are, but if you live each day the best you can, if you can pay it forward (much like our Pups). Then, I think you have something.

It All Amounts To ...Not Much

I just completed two long, hot, tiring days of an Estate Sale. I am talking 90+ degrees baking sun, with my Uncle, a couple of Cousins, Husband, and a couple of friends. My Husband & Cousin's Husband joined us day two, so day one, I was the "most able-body", (My Uncle & friend, both had multiple heart surgeries, knee surgeries, as well as other health issues, oh, and they are up there in the sixties & seventies also). One Cousin is a scrappy, tiny, seventy-six year woman who certainly can pull her weight... but she weighs maybe 90? The other Cousin is 13 years younger than I, but ridden with health issues, and unable to lift things). So, I got a work out. Very thankful day two Sergio & Bradley's muscles were at hand!

To take a couple's household of 50th years, and reduce it to an "Estate Sale", is heart wrenching. Sure, several items were already "inherited" out and some stuff was thrown away, but think about the contents of your home.... then imagine it lining up your drive way and garage being sold pennies for the dollar.

My Aunt & Uncle hoarded alot of stuff. They recorded EVERYTHING and had these records on hand, just in case ever needed. My Aunt kept every card, letter and notes. Her postie notes from her office job, graduation & wedding announcements, even from friends granddaughters and sons. My Uncle had paperwork, notes and receipts for just about everything in the home and then some. We found their dog Sam's little sweaters and leases ( Sam died about thirty years ago when they lived in another state).

My Aunt & Uncled bought the higher quality stuff, paid big bucks, but it lasted forever. To sell a $1000 treadmill for $30, a $2000 bedroom suite for $200, and a $300 painting for $20 is crazy, but what else can you do? The economy is bad, ebay & Craigslist is time consuming and no guarantees (let along we had hundreds of items). We were forced to take what we could so that money could go toward my Aunts care, as well as empty the home so it could get on the market. Some of the things are truly treasures and difficult to see go for next to nothing. Some didn't find new homes. Goodwill will hopefully find homes for these items. Some items made their way to our trunks as we just could not throw away. I couldn't watch this hair dryer go to the trash. It was a little beauty I had to keep. My Bestie, Sheri used these forever. I am hoping she will give it a good home. I worked hard at getting the best prices for their things. I am grateful that my Cousins, the Daughters, were not here to watch this transpire. It was heart breaking enough for us, I can only imagine watching people take the pieces of my parents life little by little.

On a happier note, It was lovely to see, particularly young families, excited about getting the deals. To see people happy about their finds. I would like to think that this stuff will continue to get good use.

The house has been updated, and is just about ready to go on the market. It's tough. The whole process has been difficult. It is an eye opener. Makes me want to "be prepared". I don't want my daughters to be in a position to have to go through all of this ordeal.

It is really an strange feeling. To see that a lifetime of a person's "stuff" amounts to not much at all in the end. I guess, the important lesson here was, enjoy what you have and make the best of it. Get rid of what you don't need or use. Pass things on to your loved ones while you still have the chance... or they just might end up in the wrong hand.

The End of A Lifetime

Over the past few months I have been consumed by the death of my Uncle and care of my Aunt. I have a dozen Posting to write and a slue of thoughts swimming in my head. I want to express my feelings, yet,I must be respectful and careful on those I tread upon. Many lives have been affected. Many secrets unleashed.

One of the task at hand, settling affairs and handling of the estate.

This is a huge task.

This isn't always handled properly.

I think that most families, particularly families that are not ... close, have many "chiefs" that have their own idea of what is best.

There is also the problem of "no will", or at least, "no will that will see the light of day and hidden from family so that things will be done the way a "chief" wants them done".

I am not saying this was done in my family.... I am just saying it can & does happen in some families.

My head is spinning, my heart is breaking. I have seen a side to people I never knew existed.

So, for the record... if I die, maybe you can witness this, if my will is not found.

How I want my Estate to be handled:

• My spouse, if alive, and has his faculties, makes the choices first. What he says goes. If I really wanted you to have something, he will know, or he will make it happen. If he questions it, move on.
• Second in line, who should have that opportunity to go through my things, and have closure, my daughters. Both of them, together, at the same time. If they do not get along, they need to get over it. At least while getting my affairs together. Their husbands & children need to stay out of it too. Let Emily & Annie make decisions. Without the influence of others.
• Third in line, my Sister. Not my Sister In Laws, not my Brother In Laws. My Sister~ Julie. She has an extremely good head on her shoulders & she is the person that can make the good decisions and get things to move forward.
• My parents would be next. But, if they would outlive me, I am sure they would be very emotional and want to keep my trash. Don't let them. help them to get their closure and get out.
• Nieces, nephews, cousin, In Laws, friend of families, the Fix It Man, everyone else, don't even think about it! The above people will let you know if they have something I wanted you to have, or something they thought you would want. Otherwise, you can have first run at the stuff that will be sold or given away. It is not a free for all. If there is an Estate Sale or such, there is a reason. Money may be needed for care of spouse, or divided up for my daughters.

Estate sales are not only taxing and tiring, they are emotional. It's hard to part with "stuff". It's hard to give something away at a fraction of it's value. Tens of thousands of dollars worth of stuff, evaporating into pennies. Stuff that is dated does not go for top dollar unless it goes into the vintage - antique category. That really cool lamp made with marbles, or the very expensive sleeper-sofa that weighs a ton is junk now. Just because you love it doesn't mean a buyer will.

Feelings will be hurt. And skeletons will come out. It's an end of a lifetime. Do your family a favor and have things prepared.

Now, I must get that will updated! You never know!

the inevitable

We all know that eventually we will die.

There is no getting around this.

We do what we can to prolong our lives. We eat right, we exercise, we try to follow healthy lifestyles. Most do anyway.

(Some could care less and abuse their lives and bodies. Suicide is there as well.) That's another post!

Some people get lucky and seem to live great long happy lives. We have all seen the many Smucker people that get recognition for their 100th milestone on the Today Show.

That is why it is so strange to me when we are shocked of a death. I think it is more about a person being shocked that "They" will have to adjust to this loved one being out of their physical lives.

We are always surprised when a death is sudden, particularly with a young person. That is the hardest to understand. We are mostly saddened by our loss and the thought of not having the joy of seeing that young person get to experience life.

When a loved one has lived a long and happy life, I feel a sense of happiness. A relief for that person. Oh what a grand life. Imagine what they have seen & been able to experience.

When my Grandma Kitty died, I felt joy that I was Blessed to have had her in my life and for the life she was able to live. She was vibrate and brought joy to all around her. She wasn't terribly old though and I felt she still had so much to give. The pain of knowing I would no longer have insightful conversations with her, have a good belly laugh or to hold her close again was so hard. But, years have pass and she is still very much a part of me. I think of her daily and find myself thinking of what she would say or do if I was having a conversation, asking her opinion and I know I feel her presence.

Last week, my Uncle passed. Actually, he died somewhere between February 16th and 18th. He was 76, had several health issues and we all know it was a matter of time. BUT his cancer was being treated, and we were allude to believe he had several years.

The real problem of Art's death is his wife, my Aunt Nancy. She has been declining in health and has Parkinson's disease as well as Alzheimer's. Art has refused any help in her care and has been her sole health care provider. He seems to have taken good care of her physically. My uncle had alot of ...issues. He was always very controlling and full of alot of hatred. He has always been this way and for this, it was difficult to visit them. Scary to visit.

Concern for the inevitable didn't seem to sink in for him or really for the family. They tried. And I believe that they thought that plans were in place and it would not be quite the way it is.

Last Saturday, (2-4 days following Art's death), my Aunt was found in a crumbled mess at the bottom of the basement stairs. My uncle, deceased in their bed on the second floor. He must have realized that it may be coming. He had their driver's licences, important papers and such laid out on the table. Had been trying to finish their taxes, and left a door unlocked (something this gun happy man has never done before). Unfortunately, he did not make any phone calls to let anyone know he may be dying. We don't know how long Nancy was twisted on those basement stairs or how long he was dead. There is evidence that she was alone for some time prior to the fall. When they found her Saturday, and I saw her, I couldn't believe how she looked. I have never seen such fear in someones eyes. Days later, following her surgery, she is recovery well. She has a difficult time talking and her thought process is difficult (as it has for some time due to the Alzheimer's.) She needed to tell us what she knew. It was difficult for us, particularly her daughters, but she felt such a need to tell the story. Very heartbreaking. How she tried to wake him, tried to get him up. Not knowing what to do. Not remembering how to use a phone, or even go next door for help. It was a terrible scene.

I have been trying to help my cousins (whom all live out of town) get the arrangements made to bury their Father, and find the best care for their Mother. As well as decisions on the estate. Choosing not only a good fit but one that accepts their insurance. She will need to go into Rehab first then some kind of nursing home. When your family lives so far apart, what do you do? Where do you place your Mom? If she stays in Indy, she will have nieces, Brothers, Sisters to look after her. The daughters all live in different states...

Watching all this unfold has been so emotional and sad.

I told my sister & parents we need to sit down not just with a plan but a backup plan as well.

I am getting wordy and have so many ore thoughts in my head... BUT I must end for now as I have so much to do on this day I have taken off in preparation for addition out of town guest, and getting much necessary stuff done. (I also have to find an appropriate outfit for this big ass girl that has outgrown all her clothes!).

Let me end with this. One day you or a loved one will be in a similar situation as we are. What is your plan?

DON'T put it off. It is so emotional and difficult. The funeral home alone can make you feel so guilty in your choices. The rock bottom no thrills 1 hour service for my Uncle tomorrow is costing over $12,000.00.

footnote* The beautiful photo is of National Cemetery in Alexandria Virginia. This photo was taken by Brooke Young http://brookiecookies.blogspot.com/ Used with permission. Thank you Brooke!

It's A Wonderful Life

I have had a crappy week.
My allergies are in full force. I have a horrible cold or flu or something mean, that is causing me much grief. I am sweating and freezing at the same time. My head is like a balloon. Sergio is afraid to sleep in the same room with me (sorry Baby, you WILL catch this anyway. Too late!)
I know I will feel better soon. This will pass...
I have had some finance crisis that has had me in a frenzy. My job had me stressed too.
I have that settled now.
Our closing on the new house was suppose to take place a week ago. We finally got a Clear To Close on Thursday morning. But the jerky seller is being an ass, and although he knew we had movers planned for this perfect, extended weekend to close, decided to make us wait till Tuesday. So we have lost four days that neither of us had to work, plus the girls were planning to come home to help, just because the seller wanted to be a jerk. After the closing, Sergio has to go out of town on Tuesday so, it is going to be a slow difficult move alittle each day move now.
BUT...
I am okay with it.
As my daughter reminded me, worrying about it or getting angry, won't change things. It is, what it is. I have always said this and now it is time for me to take some of my own advice.

I had a funeral to go to earlier this week. Betty, a lovely woman that was the assistant leader in my Camp Fire Troop. She was 86. I felt so bad that I had lost touch. I had not seen her in years. Occasional run into her daughter, my childhood friend, and would catch up, but we rarely saw each other. Before the funeral I met up with three other Camp Fire Sisters and we got caught up before arriving at the funeral home. We then gathered with our friend that lost her Mom and promised each other we would keep in touch better. No more only seeing each other at times like these. We have a get together planned already. Betty, will be so proud to know she has brought us back together.
Some good from a sad situation.

I have so much to be grateful for.
God has truly Blessed my life.
Sometimes we (I) get so caught up in the things that drag me down, that I forget to look at the big picture. All the wonderful things in my life. I have such an exciting future that is only going to get better. Good things are happening. So a few things do not go according to MY plan. Am I forgetting this is all a part of HIS plan for me? I need to remember to truly give all my worries, my fears, my anxieties, and my joys to God. Then, and only then, can I enjoy what I have.
ps.. Thank you Mary for reminding me of this.
Mine is a WONDERFUL life.

Water Under the Bridge

The definition of this idiom is as follows:
Something in the past and no longer important.

Hmm. I keep hearing the voice of a ghost that said it on Saturday.

"That's Water Under the Bridge!"
Something in the past and no longer important.

I was faced with this ghost, a family member, that has caused so much sadness and pain. I had not seen him in some time. I stayed away for the most part. With the exception of my teen years, and the years I was a new mother, I keep him out of my life as much as possible. He happened to live with family that I love dearly and I did not understand or realize how dangerous he was when I accepted him in my life. I am sure that my parents did not realize it when they allowed me to be in his care as a teen.

Many years have past. The pain he caused was irreparable. It spun out of control for years, causing physical pain, mental anguish and even death. But yet he continued to be the mean soul he was.

As a child I did not understand.

As an adult I do not understand.

You see he is not really a ghost, yet, anyway. Occasionally he appears unexpected at a family function. No one ask him to leave. He has someone near and dear, with him. She doesn't remember us, or him for that matter. Her Alzheimer's keeps her as a walking shell of the woman she use to be. If she was not with him, he would not be welcomed. Some of the family has forgiven him. Some just look the other way.

He made the comment, in regards to his deceased son. It echos in my heart. He truly doesn't care about what he did or who he has hurt.

It's just water under the bridge...

Not Billy Too!

So Sunday morning, Billy Mays was found dead at home. He was just 50 years old.

What the heck?

There goes the "They Come In Threes" theory.

Many may not know the name Billy Mays, however, his booming voice is unforgettable. He is the King of infomercials and has been endorsing products for years. Sergio & I enjoyed his enthusiasm.

I am sure he is in Heaven now saying, "Hey Folks, Billy Mays here to tell you..."

God Bless his Family.

they come in threes...

The obvious conversation currently here in America as well as across the world I am sure, is the loss of musician Michael Jackson. Although saddened to see this gifted performer die, I was just as sad to hear of Ed McMahan and Farrah Fawcett passing as well.

First we loss Ed. Wonderful sidekick to Johnny Carson. He was also known as The Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes King. All in all, a wonderful gentleman. What he had experienced recently with his financial troubles, and decision to share publicly was an eye opener to all that it can happen to anyone in a nano-second. He was blessed to live a good long life.

Farrah died yesterday morning following her horrible battle with Colon Cancer. I don't think the news surprised anyone. She has been gravely ill and it has been newsworthy to report her progression of this fight. Farrah was quite the icon for us 70's kids. The girls all wanted to be her or at least one of Charlies Angels. We tried desperately to mimic her lovely feathered bangs. The boys, well they just wanted to be with her! Her poster was up on walls in boys rooms across the country. She surprised us with her award winning performance in The Burning Bed. And she shocked us with her irate strange behavior in recent years. She fought her Colon cancer quietly, till the end. She inspired many.

We also got the surprising news late yesterday afternoon of Micheal Jackson being rushed to the hospital with some sort of heart complication. Many wondered if this was just another of his bizarre episodes. But, quickly learned that he died at age 50. Micheal oozed with talent. We all know that. The man could sing, dance, perform like crazy. He had a kind gentleness about him. BUT he was extremely weird. One heckofa oddball. I need not even go into the bizarre stories, you can read or watch them on every page and channel of tabloid magazines. Although I was not a big fan of Michael's, I respected this performers talent.

Which brings us to the threes.

Isn't it strange? Do you see that death seems to come in threes? My Mom use to say it, and it always did seem that way. I hear others say it too. So, what is up with that? It aways freaks me out a bit. Any theories?

Eartha Kitt

Eartha Kitt, the beautiful sultry voiced "sex kitten" has died from colon cancer. The singer, dancer and actress was 81.

I loved this talented woman. I remeber wanting to be her back in the late 60's watching her on Batman. She was none other than "Cat Woman" on this weekly series that I loved, especially when she made an appearance. (Julie Newmar played the original Cat Woman, Eartha replaced her in 1967).


She spent 60 years entertaining us with her dancing, acting and singing. Her version of Santa Baby will always be my favorite. She was very beautiful. Being of mixed race was controversal for her time, but the strong Eartha prevailed. Even after her black - Cherokee mother remarried and her step father refused to talk to a child of mixed race. She then lived with relatives. (Her father was white). She also was outspoken which got her in trouble often. She spent many years overseas after her denouncing the Vietnam War. She was investagated by both the CIA and the FBI.

"The thing that hurts, that became anger, was when I realized that if you tell the truth - in a country that says you're entitled to tell the truth - you get your face slapped and you get put out of work," Kitt told Essence magazine two decades later.

From Broadway to the Cinema, she found her place. Her albums (I favor the earlier ones from the 50's) and her many appearences throughout the years, she would make her way through.

While on stage, she was daringly sexy and always flirtatious. Offstage, however, Kitt described herself as shy and almost reclusive, remnants of feeling unwanted and unloved as a child. She referred to herself as "that little urchin cotton-picker from the South, Eartha Mae."

She died on Christmas day. How fitting with her Santa Baby song. I will always remember her with a smile. She was one of the great ones. She will be missed but not forgotten.

Suicidal

adj.1. inclined to commit suicide 2. of suicide. 3. self-destructive; rash. from the Pocket Oxford Dictionary

I don't think that is the best definition, but it comes from my dictionary that is always by my side.

Suicidal. Scary word. Familiar word.

I come from a family that has many suicidal attempts, few "succeed". I think suicide is often more of a cry for help not a reach for the end. I guess I feel that way because of the history I know.

Without identifying these family members here is what I have known.

A was so unhappy with her life she sat her daughter in the bathroom with her. Sat up against the door and slit both wrist. The terrified daughter couldn't stop her Mothers bleeding and escaped out the window to get a neighbor's help. She survived.

B was so overwhelmed when she was told that her son was arrested for selling drugs at a grade school, she felt responsible and took a knife and sliced up her pain in her gut. She survived.

C was overwhelmed by her life unraveling. She couldn't take it anymore and overdosed on anxiety medicine. She survived.

D takes the prize. One time, D was so frustrated with his broken body, his broken spirit and his feeling of inadequate. He overdosed big time. But, in an afterthought, he realized his young daughters would find him first. He was able to call 911 before collapsing. Another time, D was frustrated again. This time he tried to hang himself. The shower pole at the motel snapped. A third time D tried the overdosing again, didn't work. Just made him very sick. The last time D attempted. He first made a call to one of his adult daughters. Told her how horrible she was and how much pain she caused everyone. He then told her that she was responsible for anything bad that would happen to him. He then drove his car into a train trusses. he succeeded in only mutilating his body more and causing him more pain. He wife shared the pictures of the bloody car with that daughter during his surgery. He succeeded in hurting the daughter more than he could ever imagine. She knows he didn't mean those words. She knows he was sick. But the words haunt her today.

E Sweet loving E. Always the lost child. Just looking for some love. Tragically it did not come from his parents. The rest of the family could never replace what was missing in his heart. His one and only attempt, left him in his front yard with a terrified wife & son behind a closed door. He shot himself in the chest with a riffle, and bleed to death a horrific death.

I could go on. More family members and friends too. I sadly miss. I wish I could have made things better. I understand.

Suicidal thoughts come easier for some than others.

Visions of cutting into ones wrist. The feel of a gun in hand. The thoughts of how easy to just sharply turning the wheel and crashing your vehicle. Thoughts of mixing bleach and ammonia to that potent mixture.

The feeling of making all the bad go away. Feeling spent.

Luckily, some that do feel this way also feel the joy of love. Have family and friends that show they care as well as say it. Having faith and religion can make a difference.

I do think that often the suicidal is about, "Hey! I need some help here! Not Goodbye cruel world!"

Be good to each other. You never know when someone is hurting deep inside. If you are hurting, sharing your feelings with a loved one is way better than sharing the pain when it's too late.

Amazing Grace

Lucious Newson passed away August 18th. He was 93 years young. Although I never officially meet him, I heard him speak, I participated in his quest and I shook his hand while thanking him for all he does.

I admired him and looked up to him more than anyone I have ever met or knew of. This was the most selfless loving man that made his life mission in helping others. He became my hero.

A few years ago, we visited Nativity Catholic Church. There this old black man with bib overalls, kindof stuck out among the other members. There was something about him that mesmerized me. He was so full of faith. He was almost glowing. He was introduced by the priest at the end of the sermon. Lucious wanted to show his appreciate for the Church’s help in feeding the poor. He sang “Amazing Grace”. I have heard this song a million times, but never as beautifully as this old man sang it. He sang acappella, no music other than his voice. I cried.

Lucious had made it his mission to feed the poor. He was known as “the Lord’s beggar for the poor”. He helped establish “Anna’s House”, a clinic & learning center that offers food, dental care, medical help & services for people in need.

For the past twenty years he has been assisting Indianapolis’ poor, feeding them and teaching those of us more fortunate how to treat the poor. His heart was very big. He was the most generous of all. Lucious had said, “I go to bed so thankful that God gave me this job. I’m just thankful I can serve Him, & that He can use an old guy like me. I live by faith. I’m going to keep doing this until God calls me to heaven.”

He was truly a wonderful Christian man. His work will continue through the lives he touched.