An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

This little gazebo..... After 18 long months..... ....turned into THIS!!!! I finally have a tub and it has.....wait for it.......bubbles!!! So incredibly grateful for a dear friend who did this for me, but mostly for his dear friendship.

We got through it! Thanksgiving came and went with no arguments and great family time. The food was EXCELLENT. Our sweet new neighbors were gone for the day and they allowed us to borrow their entire kitchen. What a life saver. Two ovens, a Weber BBQ and a Traeger smoker were all put to good use. The Boy Scout did it all without batting an eye, although he did fall asleep before the crowd left. It was understandable....he had worked hard. I was in 7th heaven. I got my holiday back and I loved every minute of it. Our special guests were these three cuties. Payton, Gavin and Jazmin. Payton was born with a condition called Craniosynostosis, where the skull prematurely fuses, not allowing normal growth. She has had more surgeries I can count and will have many, many more before reaching adulthood. She has had a trach since birth but is a fighter and can do just about anything any child her age can do. The trach should be removed soon and that will be life changing for her. Li

On thanksgiving morning I woke early as usual. The Boy Scout had been hard at work the day before prepping for our company so I let him sleep for awhile.  I did something I rarely do.....I ran through McDonald’s for an egg McMuffin. Yea yea...I know, not quality but I was hungry. While waiting in line I watched a small group of birds bathing in a puddle near a curb.  There is something so joyous about birds bathing.  They flew in, were frightened by a sound or a passing car and flew off and then came right back for more. Flittering here and there. I hated to leave. It was lovey and worth the empty calories and excessive salt to see their exhuberance. It was a good reminder of being happy in the moment and grateful for what is right before me. I was.

WORD FOR THE DAY As i walked down the avenue, the late afternoon sun was turning the lovely and dying sycamore leaves into fragments of brilliant stained glass, and i said to myself, "This alone is worth the price of admission to our broken and glorious world." LINDA LARSSON This quote reminds me of a certain moment in life a number of years back. We were taking what would turn out to be our last “family” vacation. I knew the kids were spreading their wings and, deep down, I knew that we were falling apart. So in fulfilling a long held dream I booked 6 tickets to Paris and did a home exchange with a family of like size. It was both a wonderful and horrible trip. The special moment I referred to was so incredible. For a reason I do not recall, I was standing alone at the corner of Place Saint-Andre des Arts and Place Saint Michel. The weather had turned slightly cooler but a warm breeze surrounded me for a few minutes. It was light hearted and gentle and it swir

Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being. Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light. DR. ALBERT SCHWEITZER I love this quote. It brings to mind all the people who helped me get through some of the harder times in my life. Some were always there, as reliable as the air around me. Others stepped in with just a word or a smile and moved back out again. I wish I had documented each of those earthly angels, made a mental card file, so that I could go through it and thank them and while doing so, reminding me to be that same kind of person. I am that person to my kids for the most part, just as my mother was for me. But it is when we reach out to an acquaintance or stranger, we put ourselves out there, taking a risk and, sometimes, reaping incredible benefits.

My youngest (21) has been having trouble with UTI's. Lot's of them. After ending up in the emergency room twice she finally went to the urologist. After sitting in the waiting room with a bunch of older gents she gets moved to an exam room. Waiting for the doctor to come, she hears from the next room over...."I am having trouble getting aroused. I can't tell whether I am in or out." UHMMMM...thicker I think??? Yes, the answer to that problem is thicker walls.

Thanksgiving was always mine. A person has to fight for the holidays when there are six siblings, but this holiday is my favorite. No pre Thanksgiving shopping and stress, just get together and enjoy the company. When my life fell apart I lost it to another sibling. I was preoccupied with 4 grieving children, a mentally ill man with few boundaries and my own despair. I was busy selling and packing and learning to breathe again. Unable to sleep or eat, just getting to holidays was a triumph. This year the Boy Scout took back my holiday and is running with it full force. Our little 800 sq ft house will be packed to overflowing 9 days. I cannot wait!!!! We will have at least 20 adults and 4 little ones. Woohooo! We are considering asking the Secret Keeper to come too. Not truly knowing what is best for him, it is hard to guess what the right thing to do. I loathe the idea of him being alone on this holiday and I despise the idea that my kids will feel guilt for choosing one over

I have a physical and emotional reaction to the smell of alcohol on a person's breath. I have an "out of control" feeling when I think someone is drinking too much. It doesn't have to be the person I am with, it can be the person 5 feet away that I will never meet. It's not a good thing when it is the person I am with. I am getting better at recognizing that feeling and wrestling it under control before things get really ugly. Not every time and not as early as I would like. The fight or flight takes over and I can do both in a very grand fashion. I love the child in me that feels scared and screams out for a person she can rely on but I dislike when she takes over and makes herself and everyone around her miserable. My counselor has told me I am suppose to remind her that I (yes, me, myself and I) will take care of her but I don't always remember that in time. I keep trying♥

Mental illness did not kill 26 people. An assault rifle did that. An assault rifle in the hands of a man who bought it legally because the system failed. Mental illness did not kill 58 people in Las Vegas. Numerous assault rifles did that. I could care less whether he got them legally or illegally… He got them. This is a gun issue. Plain and simple. How many more times are we going to have this happen before our leaders call a spade a spade? I’m not saying all guns. That’s not my agenda. But who the hell needs an automatic or semi-automatic gun aside from a soldier? Ps. If mental illness is the problem, then why do we give them NO real health care and leave them to fend for themselves? Thank you Donald but we will have to agree to drastically disagree. 

Someone somewhere along the way told my Boy Scout he couldn't sing. How dare someone shame a person from doing something so very basic to human pleasure. I don't sing well but that will never stop me from doing it at the top of my lungs if I so desire. Tuesdays With Morrie cemented that belief that I once held timidly. Yesterday the Boy Scout was in the kitchen, happily cooking away, trying a new recipe and listening to the Mark Knopfler station on Pandora. Suddenly a song comes on and he turns and starts singing. It's a hauntingly beautiful song or maybe I just think that now because of what it means to me (or more importantly him). He has a deep beautiful speaking voice and, often times, he kinda speaks with a song rather an fully singing. I love it but probably due to the fact that music moves his heart so profoundly. The first time he sang this song to me, he did so with tears rolling down his cheeks. Make Me An Angel  with Bonnie Raitt and John Prine

I would like your input on this letter I am considering sending out. Darryl, I once considered you, if not a friend, a very friendly acquaintance. Our daughters are the same age. I am sure that your daughter is as special to you as mine is to me. McKenna is 21 years old and starting out her life with some tough situations. SHE IS NOT AN OBJECT. She is a person who has her ups and downs, her struggles and triumphs. She has, in the past year, completely alone, had to make scary medical decisions for her mentally ill, addicted father. She has had to watch as the man who was an amazing father slowly turn into a shell of a man who has little to give and much to take. Whether purposefully or accidentally, you have added to her already difficult year. I wonder…would you appreciate my ex-husband leering and making inappropriate comments to your daughter over the course of a long evening? Think about that for a moment!  What were you hoping to achieve with your behavior? Whether