...think warm thoughts, whatever it is that you do.
This lovely family that I have never met has lost a member...their lives are shattered at this time. This is a copy of a posting from his mother taken from his Care Page and displayed on Michelle's blog http://michellekemperbrownlowwrites4kids.blogspot.com/.
Dear friends,
Our Mimi needs us now MORE than she ever has. She is hurting so badly and she needs our prayers!
She writes:"Empty shell are the words that came to my mind today as I laid my eyes on Julian's so very still body. It made it so real, so final... I felt like I was at the wax museum, it looked like Ju but it was just a cold, hard ,wax copy of Julian . It wasn't him , how could it ? Surely I left him at home playing with the boys... Seeing him laying in his caskett was unbelievably painful, my heart cracked a little more, a little deeper. I won't EVER get to hold my child again, EVER... Nothing is more final than that."
Julian's viewing is Wednesday night from 6-8pm at their church and his funeral is Thursday at 11am where yellow balloons will be released. (yellow was Juju's favorite color)
You can read his obituary and sign his guest book here.
You can join the near-thousand people and light a candle for him here.
I am hoping that everyone reading this will post a picture of Mimi and/or Julian on their blog and ask your readers to pray for the strength she will need not just in the coming days but in her lifetime without her baby Ju. PLEASE.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
First Born Child of My Loins
She's thirty six, one of my best friends, a wonderful mother, an incredible poker player, and has the most beautiful face and one of the most brilliant minds on the planet. Yes, this is M.M.(FBCOML).
She has her hands full today. Her oldest daughter, my first born grandchild, is in the "pooper" today. We had a pow wow on what happened, what needed to be done about it, the lesson that needed to be learned, and how not to strangle her, tie her up, put her in the closet, and lock the door for the next oh five or six years. Seems my granddaughter not only lied about where she was going last night and who she would be with but got in a car accident and had to call her mother's boyfriend, who is an attorney, to come and get her because she wasn't "ready" to deal with her mother's or grandfather's wrath over the situation.
She's okay, no one was injured in the accident. But that is not the point!
Evidently she was given a time line by Mom's boyfriend. She had up to a certain time to call and inform her mother what had happened. She did this. It just happened to be during the final break in a poker tournament. According to my daughter, "I busted out and announced that I was now going home to kill my oldest daughter".
It seems Little Miss M. (the grandchild) was supposed to be at a Young Life meeting. Not only was she not at Young Life, but had not been there at all (Lie#1). She was in a "forbidden" area of town, (#2). She was with young people that her mother "had warned her about" (#3).
Little Miss M. has a serious case of senioritis. The only problem is Little Miss M. lives in Sin City. She also, just recently, turned 17. She's been "skipped" ahead in school leaving her nearly two years younger than most of the other kids in her class. She's also beautiful and brilliant. (Reason enough to lock her in a closet for the next several years!)
After much discussion my daughter hung up the phone to give our conversation some thought and to check that Little Miss M. was indeed in school today (it's Senior Skip Day). Dear Lord, I hope the child is there!
My daughter was so angry last night that she told Little Miss M. she would deal with the situation after school today. That is how she found out it was Senior Skip Day. Little Miss M. promptly burst into tears and in between sobs blurted out "But it's Senior Skip Day!".
So here I sit waiting to see what happens. This is what kills me about her being so far away!
I thought the first thing she should do was check that she was indeed in school. Do you realize how hard this has become? Due to "security" and "privacy" issues you can hardly check on your son/daughter without going to the school in person and showing ID?! I understand that our children are being "protected" but this is rather silly. If this is how we have to be, because it's what we've become, then we should be issued some code or something.
The second piece of sage advice I had to offer was have her Young Life leader greet her as she walks into the house today after school and have her apologize for having used them in her lie.
Beyond that I say lock her up and throw away the key!
She has her hands full today. Her oldest daughter, my first born grandchild, is in the "pooper" today. We had a pow wow on what happened, what needed to be done about it, the lesson that needed to be learned, and how not to strangle her, tie her up, put her in the closet, and lock the door for the next oh five or six years. Seems my granddaughter not only lied about where she was going last night and who she would be with but got in a car accident and had to call her mother's boyfriend, who is an attorney, to come and get her because she wasn't "ready" to deal with her mother's or grandfather's wrath over the situation.
She's okay, no one was injured in the accident. But that is not the point!
Evidently she was given a time line by Mom's boyfriend. She had up to a certain time to call and inform her mother what had happened. She did this. It just happened to be during the final break in a poker tournament. According to my daughter, "I busted out and announced that I was now going home to kill my oldest daughter".
It seems Little Miss M. (the grandchild) was supposed to be at a Young Life meeting. Not only was she not at Young Life, but had not been there at all (Lie#1). She was in a "forbidden" area of town, (#2). She was with young people that her mother "had warned her about" (#3).
Little Miss M. has a serious case of senioritis. The only problem is Little Miss M. lives in Sin City. She also, just recently, turned 17. She's been "skipped" ahead in school leaving her nearly two years younger than most of the other kids in her class. She's also beautiful and brilliant. (Reason enough to lock her in a closet for the next several years!)
After much discussion my daughter hung up the phone to give our conversation some thought and to check that Little Miss M. was indeed in school today (it's Senior Skip Day). Dear Lord, I hope the child is there!
My daughter was so angry last night that she told Little Miss M. she would deal with the situation after school today. That is how she found out it was Senior Skip Day. Little Miss M. promptly burst into tears and in between sobs blurted out "But it's Senior Skip Day!".
So here I sit waiting to see what happens. This is what kills me about her being so far away!
I thought the first thing she should do was check that she was indeed in school. Do you realize how hard this has become? Due to "security" and "privacy" issues you can hardly check on your son/daughter without going to the school in person and showing ID?! I understand that our children are being "protected" but this is rather silly. If this is how we have to be, because it's what we've become, then we should be issued some code or something.
The second piece of sage advice I had to offer was have her Young Life leader greet her as she walks into the house today after school and have her apologize for having used them in her lie.
Beyond that I say lock her up and throw away the key!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Hug Your Kids!
Several years ago I attended a woman's Bible study and the challenge was to hug your kids ten times a day...each kid! I thought, hey I'm a hugger, I can meet this challenge easy. WRONG!
It's easy to hug them when they are cute or sick. It's not so easy to hug them when they are being belligerent, rude, and ornery!
The past few weeks this little voice in my head has been reminding me about this lesson. I think it's because of Julian and Mimi. (See postings on Dawn Meehan's blog BECAUSE I SAID SO and Michelle's blog Some Semblance of Sanity). Mimi KNOWS the importance in this. Every hug might be hers and Julian's last.
I have no idea if anyone even reads this blog. But if you do, hug your kids, each one, ten times a day for a week. Try it. For that matter, give everyone who is important to you a hug when you can...it might just be your last!
It's easy to hug them when they are cute or sick. It's not so easy to hug them when they are being belligerent, rude, and ornery!
The past few weeks this little voice in my head has been reminding me about this lesson. I think it's because of Julian and Mimi. (See postings on Dawn Meehan's blog BECAUSE I SAID SO and Michelle's blog Some Semblance of Sanity). Mimi KNOWS the importance in this. Every hug might be hers and Julian's last.
I have no idea if anyone even reads this blog. But if you do, hug your kids, each one, ten times a day for a week. Try it. For that matter, give everyone who is important to you a hug when you can...it might just be your last!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Water Color Magic
First let me say that this is the second time I've written this posting...so much for Blogger automatically saving your drafts! The first is gone...floating in cyberspace somewhere. So, here we go again.
I'm starting a series of water color painting classes tonight...I'll be going with a friend. I used to be very good at it. A long, long time ago husband #2 arrived home to find me with my art supplies and portfolio spread across the dining room table and me working on a project. It didn't go over well, and to spare you the gory details and myself the pain of going through it again I will tell you that the portfolio, my supplies, and my project ended up in the burn barrel after several hours of ranting and raving. I wasn't the one who did it, I just watched...watched them burn and turn to ash. I didn't paint for a very long time after that...nearly 15 years.
Just over a year ago, my oldest daughter, M.M., First Born Child of My Loins (that is her official title) was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I still find that hard to type and bile rises in my throat each time I do. After over a year and two surgeries later, she is cancer free. Before her surgeries we went to the craft store and bought ourselves paint, brushes, and lots of paper. During her recuperation we painted because how much Food Channel can one watch?! We painted for hours. Her brother and her daughters joined in the fun. We had a grand time!
Just before the Holidays a library patron came to the check out desk with an arm full of water color books. I told him that I really enjoyed two of his choices and actually had just returned them that morning. He then informed me that he was a retired art teacher and was going to have classes starting soon and asked if I might be interested. I said I might be interested and definitely had a friend that would be.
So, tonight I'm starting over again. I don't know if I will be able to do it but I feel I owe it to myself to try. The proverbial horse I fell off of years ago is waiting for me.
I'm very scared! I've thought of all kinds of reasons I shouldn't/couldn't go...but I made a promise to my friend to be her transportation and partner for the classes so I have to go...kind of trapped myself in a good way this time.
I'm starting a series of water color painting classes tonight...I'll be going with a friend. I used to be very good at it. A long, long time ago husband #2 arrived home to find me with my art supplies and portfolio spread across the dining room table and me working on a project. It didn't go over well, and to spare you the gory details and myself the pain of going through it again I will tell you that the portfolio, my supplies, and my project ended up in the burn barrel after several hours of ranting and raving. I wasn't the one who did it, I just watched...watched them burn and turn to ash. I didn't paint for a very long time after that...nearly 15 years.
Just over a year ago, my oldest daughter, M.M., First Born Child of My Loins (that is her official title) was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I still find that hard to type and bile rises in my throat each time I do. After over a year and two surgeries later, she is cancer free. Before her surgeries we went to the craft store and bought ourselves paint, brushes, and lots of paper. During her recuperation we painted because how much Food Channel can one watch?! We painted for hours. Her brother and her daughters joined in the fun. We had a grand time!
Just before the Holidays a library patron came to the check out desk with an arm full of water color books. I told him that I really enjoyed two of his choices and actually had just returned them that morning. He then informed me that he was a retired art teacher and was going to have classes starting soon and asked if I might be interested. I said I might be interested and definitely had a friend that would be.
So, tonight I'm starting over again. I don't know if I will be able to do it but I feel I owe it to myself to try. The proverbial horse I fell off of years ago is waiting for me.
I'm very scared! I've thought of all kinds of reasons I shouldn't/couldn't go...but I made a promise to my friend to be her transportation and partner for the classes so I have to go...kind of trapped myself in a good way this time.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
She could wear purple...
...at the gates of heaven...an amazing woman, who's heart is bigger than one could ever imagine or hope for. Her husband left for work and never returned. Taken from her and her boys without notice. Without a word. Without warning. Beware! Say good night, good bye, be safe, I love you...they may be taken from you without any warning...be brave, be faithful, believe...love them unconditionally...believe! My dear friend, P.P. finds herself a widow, among other things this evening. No notice. None. I admire her for her strength, faith, and resolve...she is amazing!. I mourn her loss. I am so thankful that whoever answered her phone this evening recognized my name and knew that I would try to bring comfort, that I meant no harm. My prayers go out to her and hers this evening for comfort and peace...
Monday, January 7, 2008
I think I'm going to live...
My head still hurts...my body still aches...but, I think I'm going to live! My husband, on the other hand, is lucky to have returned to work today. Had he not, I might very well be having a cavity search at the county jail! Couples SHOULD NOT ever be sick together...EVER!
When I am sick, I want to be alone...I don't even answer the phone...well okay, I don't often answer the phone anyway...I'm a "screener". I want my pillow, my favorite blanket, a box of kleenex and solitude. Evidently my husband (God bless him!) wants just the opposite. I have listened to him sneeze, cough, sigh, and sneeze again for five days. I'm talking blow the house down sneezes here. Don't get me wrong, I like a good sneeze, and have been known to shake the rafters myself, but his are the long drawn out ones and he doesn't believe in covering his nose and mouth (which is probably how I got this crap). Both my daughter and I have called him on this more than once this week.
The man is a nurse. He understands the effect of germs. He just refuses to acknowledge that germs come out of his nose and mouth...that must be it...what other reason could there be?
I realize that I'm probably not the easiest person to live with at times. I've been reminded of this several times over the past few days. Mr. Won't Cover His Mouth has been gracious enough to evaluate my demeanor on a fairly consistent basis lately. I keep reminding myself that he doesn't feel good either and probably needs some comforting...but what he doesn't realize is that I'm all out. All out. Don't have any in reserve. Nada. It's been buried under all this Holiday Crud he gave me. I have a lump from biting my tongue/lip for the past five days. What would normally slightly irritate me makes me want to pull the flesh off his face in less than five seconds! See, this is why I need/crave solitude when I'm sick. I find myself having fantasies of smashing a pillow over his snoring head. I don't want to hug him and tell him it will all be better in a few days. I want to tell him to go to HELL (and not come back!).
It's not that I want to be nurtured either...I just want to be left alone so I can be sick...let it devour me and spit me back days later. When I finally allow myself to give in to the sickness...it usually takes a raging temperature and near collapse for this to actually happen...I REALLY need to be left alone. My children know this...and once again, my husband does not. Or, does he just refuse to acknowledge this because he gives me what he expects to get? This my friends, is a mystery to me.
This has been a trying few days for me for other reasons...I'm trying very hard to not smoke...having this Holiday Crud thing going on has actually been quite useful to the cause. But, I'm afraid it may have contributed to my irritability. I might just be thinking too much. I tend to do this...think too much...it's the number one reason I can't sleep well at night...some nights I just can't stop thinking...and with very little physical exertion because of this stinking disease (it's now referred to as rhino virus) I'm really not tired when it's time to get to bed...then starts the sneezing, coughing, sighing, and eventually the snoring(among other noises)...that's when the urge to shove my pillow into his sleeping face occurs. I don't do it of course...the fear of a cavity search squelches that desire. So I lay there and think of other ways to do the job...have I lost my ever loving mind?! It sure feels like it.
Our day usually starts at 4:30 in the morning, but only four days a week. If I have trouble sleeping I usually fall asleep about ten minutes before my husband's alarm clock goes off...go figure. He, like most of us, has a morning ritual that he plods through VERY, VERY LOUDLY! It's not loud to him...he's hard of hearing...all other occupants of this house and surrounding property will be awakened when he has risen...like it or not. I have bolted upright from a dead sleep (on those rare and wonderful occasions) and watched deer that were sleeping under our window run for the forest in a panic from the noises that are made by this otherwise unassuming man.
So this morning, after a restless night, I of course fall asleep shortly after four only to be woken up ten short minutes later by loud heavy sighs. I won't describe the sounds that followed. I froze. Afraid to move, needing desperately to cover my eyes before the blare of the lights, I instead pulled my pillow up and around my head. That maneuver didn't really matter because my dear sweet man threw the covers off and leaped out of bed, making more noises I will not discuss along the way and leaving a green cloud in his wake. At this point I regret my decision to avoid the cavity search...I know I will not get back to sleep and I really want to do more than smash his face with a pillow. I keep telling myself that it's okay, he's going to work, all will be well, but it's not working very well. I'm still not feeling all that good. I think I need to call in sick again...but at least I think I'm going to live...and so is my man! He should only know how lucky he is!
When I am sick, I want to be alone...I don't even answer the phone...well okay, I don't often answer the phone anyway...I'm a "screener". I want my pillow, my favorite blanket, a box of kleenex and solitude. Evidently my husband (God bless him!) wants just the opposite. I have listened to him sneeze, cough, sigh, and sneeze again for five days. I'm talking blow the house down sneezes here. Don't get me wrong, I like a good sneeze, and have been known to shake the rafters myself, but his are the long drawn out ones and he doesn't believe in covering his nose and mouth (which is probably how I got this crap). Both my daughter and I have called him on this more than once this week.
The man is a nurse. He understands the effect of germs. He just refuses to acknowledge that germs come out of his nose and mouth...that must be it...what other reason could there be?
I realize that I'm probably not the easiest person to live with at times. I've been reminded of this several times over the past few days. Mr. Won't Cover His Mouth has been gracious enough to evaluate my demeanor on a fairly consistent basis lately. I keep reminding myself that he doesn't feel good either and probably needs some comforting...but what he doesn't realize is that I'm all out. All out. Don't have any in reserve. Nada. It's been buried under all this Holiday Crud he gave me. I have a lump from biting my tongue/lip for the past five days. What would normally slightly irritate me makes me want to pull the flesh off his face in less than five seconds! See, this is why I need/crave solitude when I'm sick. I find myself having fantasies of smashing a pillow over his snoring head. I don't want to hug him and tell him it will all be better in a few days. I want to tell him to go to HELL (and not come back!).
It's not that I want to be nurtured either...I just want to be left alone so I can be sick...let it devour me and spit me back days later. When I finally allow myself to give in to the sickness...it usually takes a raging temperature and near collapse for this to actually happen...I REALLY need to be left alone. My children know this...and once again, my husband does not. Or, does he just refuse to acknowledge this because he gives me what he expects to get? This my friends, is a mystery to me.
This has been a trying few days for me for other reasons...I'm trying very hard to not smoke...having this Holiday Crud thing going on has actually been quite useful to the cause. But, I'm afraid it may have contributed to my irritability. I might just be thinking too much. I tend to do this...think too much...it's the number one reason I can't sleep well at night...some nights I just can't stop thinking...and with very little physical exertion because of this stinking disease (it's now referred to as rhino virus) I'm really not tired when it's time to get to bed...then starts the sneezing, coughing, sighing, and eventually the snoring(among other noises)...that's when the urge to shove my pillow into his sleeping face occurs. I don't do it of course...the fear of a cavity search squelches that desire. So I lay there and think of other ways to do the job...have I lost my ever loving mind?! It sure feels like it.
Our day usually starts at 4:30 in the morning, but only four days a week. If I have trouble sleeping I usually fall asleep about ten minutes before my husband's alarm clock goes off...go figure. He, like most of us, has a morning ritual that he plods through VERY, VERY LOUDLY! It's not loud to him...he's hard of hearing...all other occupants of this house and surrounding property will be awakened when he has risen...like it or not. I have bolted upright from a dead sleep (on those rare and wonderful occasions) and watched deer that were sleeping under our window run for the forest in a panic from the noises that are made by this otherwise unassuming man.
So this morning, after a restless night, I of course fall asleep shortly after four only to be woken up ten short minutes later by loud heavy sighs. I won't describe the sounds that followed. I froze. Afraid to move, needing desperately to cover my eyes before the blare of the lights, I instead pulled my pillow up and around my head. That maneuver didn't really matter because my dear sweet man threw the covers off and leaped out of bed, making more noises I will not discuss along the way and leaving a green cloud in his wake. At this point I regret my decision to avoid the cavity search...I know I will not get back to sleep and I really want to do more than smash his face with a pillow. I keep telling myself that it's okay, he's going to work, all will be well, but it's not working very well. I'm still not feeling all that good. I think I need to call in sick again...but at least I think I'm going to live...and so is my man! He should only know how lucky he is!
Thursday, January 3, 2008
The Holiday Crud
It's official...the holidays are over and I have the Holiday Crud!
I knew it was inevitable yesterday when I was stuck in a truck with my sneezing husband. About two in the morning with head throbbing the coughing started. I either passed out from exhaustion or lack of oxygen somewhere around four. At eight thirty I realized it was garbage day and I needed to get the trash down to the road or live with it another week...I ran!
By the time I got back from the road I was exhausted...I passed the offender in the hall (he had called in sick just before I had the coughing attack)...he asked how I was...FINE! I'm Fine! His response was that I was not fine judging from the coughing attacks I had all night...I am too fine!! I'm just running late and oh dear...I think I'm sick, you made me sick...look what you're done to me! I have Story Time today and you sneezed your germs all over me...and nobody wants a germy story lady! It's all your fault!
Here I am yelling at a sick man who's been up all night with the crud and is obviously miserable, as miserable as I am or worse...I'm definitely sick. I'm rarely grumpy or mean...I'm sick! So, I called in to work, then called a coworker who went in an hour early to do Story Time for me. She has a two year old and actually was quite thankful I wanted to stay home and not share my germs with the wee ones of the community.
So it's official, I have the Holiday Crud...and I'm not very happy about it!
I've been drinking AirBorne and popping vitamin C for weeks to ward off this nasty Holiday Crud that rears it's ugly head year after year. I have washed my hands till they're raw. I've wiped down the house with bleach solution. I've done every thing possible and it caught me and isn't going to let go anytime soon! Those ugly little mucus monsters are inside me having a party and there isn't anything I can do about it.
I think I'll go back to bed now...Happy New Year!
I knew it was inevitable yesterday when I was stuck in a truck with my sneezing husband. About two in the morning with head throbbing the coughing started. I either passed out from exhaustion or lack of oxygen somewhere around four. At eight thirty I realized it was garbage day and I needed to get the trash down to the road or live with it another week...I ran!
By the time I got back from the road I was exhausted...I passed the offender in the hall (he had called in sick just before I had the coughing attack)...he asked how I was...FINE! I'm Fine! His response was that I was not fine judging from the coughing attacks I had all night...I am too fine!! I'm just running late and oh dear...I think I'm sick, you made me sick...look what you're done to me! I have Story Time today and you sneezed your germs all over me...and nobody wants a germy story lady! It's all your fault!
Here I am yelling at a sick man who's been up all night with the crud and is obviously miserable, as miserable as I am or worse...I'm definitely sick. I'm rarely grumpy or mean...I'm sick! So, I called in to work, then called a coworker who went in an hour early to do Story Time for me. She has a two year old and actually was quite thankful I wanted to stay home and not share my germs with the wee ones of the community.
So it's official, I have the Holiday Crud...and I'm not very happy about it!
I've been drinking AirBorne and popping vitamin C for weeks to ward off this nasty Holiday Crud that rears it's ugly head year after year. I have washed my hands till they're raw. I've wiped down the house with bleach solution. I've done every thing possible and it caught me and isn't going to let go anytime soon! Those ugly little mucus monsters are inside me having a party and there isn't anything I can do about it.
I think I'll go back to bed now...Happy New Year!
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