È un ragazzo!

Bene i miei amici è stato un molto tempo da quando ho preso il tempo di sedersi e scrivere.  Dal mio ultimo post sono successe così tante cose.  Quello più significativo ha iniziato un viaggio per il quale tutta la nostra famiglia è stata benedetta oltre misura!


Come tutti sapete, io Ed ed ci hanno due fantastici figli, Robert che è ora di 12 e Matteo che è 10.  Robert vive con il diabete di tipo 1 a bordo.  Io sono attivo con JDRF (noto anche come Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation). Io sono un volontario mentore sedia, Presidente per il Kids Camp al tipo One Nation Summit e, più recentemente, un dipendente dei ragazzi per una campagna di Cure.  Con tutti questi cappelli sulla mia testa, anche io appartengo al diabete diversi correlati post su Facebook.  Uno di questi gruppi è dove inizia la nostra nuova avventura.




Il 23 giugno di quest'anno, un post apparso in una delle nostre pagine locali diabete su Facebook, ICES (International Cultural Exchange Students) stava cercando una famiglia ospitante per un giovane uomo che è anche un tipo 1 diabetico.  Questo post mi ha colpito duro; mi ha fatto guardare in profondità nel mio cuore e che "if questo era mio figlio, mi auguro che una famiglia amorevole con t1d esperienza sarebbe lui il benvenuto nella loro casa. " il 24 giugno, dopo una notte insonne di sonno, ho preso il grande salto di fede e domandato circa le responsabilità e i requisiti.  Più domande ho chiesto quel giorno, in più ho dovuto parlare con Ed e chiedergli se potevamo essere quella famiglia. Gli ho dato le indicazioni e, non appena ho detto studente "the è Italian" l'affare è stato sigillato! Dopo una discussione relativamente breve, abbiamo compilato una lista di domande da porre il nostro facilitatore e ho fatto la chiamata. 


Abbiamo appreso che Giovanni era, al momento, solo timido del suo 17 ° compleanno, è stato da un'isola nel Mar Mediterraneo chiamato Sardegna (lo confesso, ho dovuto guardare su una mappa per vedere dove questo era), era il maggiore di tre figli, cattolico, suonava la chitarra ed era attivo nelle cause per i diritti umani. Quella notte, abbiamo pregato per l'orientamento e il giorno successivo ha detto il nostro facilitatore che eravamo molto interessati ad aprire la nostra casa a Giovanni. Poco dopo che abbiamo iniziato il processo di applicazione, che, con mia grande sorpresa, era abbastanza facile. La parte più difficile stava raccogliendo le immagini necessarie. Dopo tutto, si può fare una prima impressione due volte!


Mentre tutto questo stava accadendo, mia madre era in visita da Philadelphia.  Lei era al settimo cielo felice che stavamo andando a partecipare a questo incredibile viaggio.  Lei ci ha incoraggiato ad imparare per quanto abbiamo potuto sulla cultura e la vita in Sardegna.  Lei mi ha dato molte idee su come aiutare i nostri studenti a far parte della nostra famiglia. Ogni giorno lei ed io controllerei il sito online per vedere se siamo stati approvati. 


Una notte, durante la prima settimana di luglio, ha incoraggiato Ed e io per andare a cena fuori e lasciare i ragazzi con lei.  Siamo andati in un piccolo pub per hamburger e una birra.  Mentre sul disco lì, ho deciso di dare un'occhiata al sito di applicazione.  Se gli elementi sono stati nel processo o incompleto il testo è rimasto rosso, come era stato il caso con il nostro check di sfondo... fino a quel momento in macchina.  Ho aperto la pagina e rimasto sorpreso di vedere il testo in verde! Ho iniziato a piangere in macchina ed Ed ha chiesto che cosa era sbagliato.  Gli ho detto che niente era sbagliato, ma che il nostro controllo della priorità bassa era diventato verde. Al momento non ero sicuro se ciò significava che siamo stati approvati a host.  Così naturalmente ho non dovuto testo il nostro facilitatore, il venerdì sera meno!  Andrea ha risposto con un sì!  Oh mio Dio!!! SIAMO STATI APPROVATI!

It's A Boy!

Well my friends it has been a VERY long time since I have taken the time to sit down and write.  So many things have happened since my last post.  The most significant one started a journey for which our entire family has been blessed beyond measure!


As you all know, Ed and I have two fantastic sons, Robert who is now 12, and Matthew who is 10.  Robert lives with type 1 diabetes on board.  I am active with the JDRF (also known as Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation). I am a Volunteer Mentor Chair, Chairperson for the Kids Camp at Type One Nation Summit and most recently an employee of the Kids for a Cure campaign.  With all of these hats on my head, I also belong to several diabetes related posts on Facebook.  One such group is where our newest adventure began.


On June 23 of this year, a post appeared in one of our local diabetes pages on Facebook,  ICES (International Cultural Exchange Students) was seeking a host family for a young man who is also a type 1 diabetic.  This post hit me hard; made me look deep into my heart and think "if this were my son, I would hope that a loving family with t1d experience would welcome him into their home."  On June 24th, after a restless night of sleep, I took the giant leap of faith and inquired about the responsibilities and requirements.  The more questions I asked that day, the more I had to talk to Ed and ask him if we could be that family. I gave him the particulars and as soon as I said "the student is Italian" the deal was sealed! After a relatively short discussion, we compiled a list of questions to ask our facilitator and I made the call. 


We learned that Giovanni was, at the time, just shy of his 17th birthday, was from an island in the Mediterranean Sea called Sardinia (I confess, I had to look on a map to see where this was), was the oldest of three children, Catholic, played the guitar, and was active in human rights causes. That night, we prayed for guidance and the next day told our facilitator we were very much interested in opening our home to Giovanni. Shortly after that we started the application process, which to my surprise was quite easy. The hardest part was gathering the required pictures. After all, you can't make a first impression twice!


While all of this was happening, my mother was visiting from Philadelphia.  She was over the moon happy that we were going to participate in this amazing journey.  She encouraged us to learn as much as we could about the culture and life in Sardinia.  She gave me many ideas on how to help our student become part of our family. Daily she and I would check the online site to see if we were approved. 


One night, during the first week of July, she encouraged Ed and I to go out to dinner and leave the boys with her.  We went to a small pub for burgers and a beer.  While on the drive there, I decided to take a peek at the application site.  If items were in process or incomplete the text remained red, as had been the case with our background check..... until that moment in the car.  I opened the page and was shocked to see the text in GREEN! I started crying in the car and Ed asked what was wrong.  I told him nothing was wrong, but that our background check had turned green. At the time I wasn't quite sure if that meant we were approved to host.  So of course I had to text our facilitator, on a Friday night no less!  Andrea responded with a YES!  Oh my goodness!!! WE WERE APPROVED! 

Welcome to Our D-Life

Type 1 Diabetes. Ugh!  Not what you want to hear following the words "Your son has been diagnosed with..."  But those were the words that we heard on November 30, 2013.  As of today it has been 128 days since we learned that our lives have been altered forever. But here's the catch, Buddy may have Type 1 Diabetes, but it doesn't have him!

 

We were the lucky family. We were the Type 2 diabetic parents who knew the signs of our disease. In October, Buddy dealt with a respiratory virus.  And again the Monday before Thanksgiving. I'd notice a drop in his weight but attributed it to a growth spurt. It's happened before, lose 5-10 pounds and *poof* grow about 3 inches taller. Even our extended family noticed it at our Thanksgiving dessert gathering.  BY that time though, I had begun to notice that my ADD/Anxiety child had become more angry and less tolerant of his younger brother. I noticed that he couldn't get enough water to drink and along with that he couldn't pee it out fast enough.  The puzzle pieces started to fall into place.  After a large post Turkey day lunch, on a whim, using my husband's glucose meter we tested his blood.  the reading came back and knocked me for a loop.... HIGH LEVELS.  The monitor couldn't even give us a number.  It meant that his blood glucose level was ABOVE 600 and was in the danger zone.  Not wanting to panic, we decided to let it go until the next morning and do a fasting test. Knowing the level should have been any where from 90 to 120, I was shattered to see a reading of 268.  Thanksgiving weekend, our doctor away on vacation, and our kid is seriously ill. What do we do? 

 

Walking into our local hospital's ER was the start of a whirlwind weekend that will forever be ingrained in my mind.  And that is coming from a woman who normally has a Swiss-cheese memory. The 572 reading on the blood glucose monitor at the hospital is tattooed on my brain.  I'll never forget the super bumpy ride in the ambulance from one hospital to the Children's Hospital at Royal Oak Beaumont Hospital.  I'll never rid my mind of the tears and reddened face of my baby boy, asking why this had to happen to him.  I can vividly remember every conversation had with EVERY SINGLE medical professional. I remember sitting, wide awake, and completely sleep deprived in the middle of the night, just watching my son sleep in his oversized hospital bed.  Surprising the doctors, nurses, dieticians, nutritionist, diabetic nurse educators all by knowing as much about types 1 & 2 and how to test blood glucose and administer an insulin injection. (we were very quick studies indeed!)Walking the hospital hallways at 2 in the morning with tears and confusion in my eyes, being stopped by the night shift nurses who so lovingly hugged me and assured me that I am strong enough to be the best D Mom I can be. They said this wasn't going to be an easy life, but it could be a manageable one as long as I did my best.

 

And you know what? Those nurses were 100 percent dead on right!  I am a damn good D Mom.  I will take anyone down who tries to get in my way. My son's health and well being come first.  I've jumped head first into Advocacy. I've read more articles about the latest advances than I have done pleasure reading.  And I will continue to educate myself and others along the way. I will raise funds for research for a cure. I will shout from the mountain tops abut our life with T1. I will make life as normal as normal can be while dealing with an incurable disease. And all of it will be done with all of the love that my heart can hold! Why?

 

Because to paraphrase our favorite childhood book, "I'll love him forever, I'll like him for always. AS long as he's living, my D-baby, he'll be!"

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Want to make a difference in Robert's life and in the lives of children and adults like him?  Please consider making a donation to the JDRF.  On April 15, 2014, I will be providing the link to our team's Walk for a Cure donor page.  Any donation, no matter how big or how small, can and will make a difference for our D families.

Happy 3rd Blog-versary (Plus 14 days) to Me!

July 16, 2010. 

 

Just an ordinary day,

in an ordinary life.

 

The day I joined the blogging world.

 

My little piece of the internet

that belongs solely to me.

 

So glad I found my voice.

 

Can't wait to explore more!

HAPPY BLOG-VERSARY TO ME! 

 

 

 

 

26 Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmmm

So, I expanded my horizons and got me a pretty lil thing called a tumblr account about eight months ago.  Stumbling my way through the entries, finding old friends, I discovered this one post that was a list of 26 questions.  Some simple, some deep, some dark, and some just plain crazy.  I thought I would share them with you and give you a little something to think about.  Feel free to pick and choose a few to answer.  Post them here in the comments section.  Enjoy!

1. If you could get away with one murder in your lifetime without any legal, social, or emotional repercussions, would you kill someone?       
2.  What is your first thought when you receive a message on Tumblr, are you excited for the idea of someone from potentially the other side of the world wanting to talk to you or fearful that someone will criticize you?
3. Have you ever looked down on someone because you thought your religious views were superior? 
4. Would you rather know everything the universe has to offer but in exchange lose all emotions or remain the way you are now?
5. If you could live and be healthy without sleeping or eating/drinking, which would you cut out of your life? 
6. If you could take on the exact body and form of anyone else on Earth, who would it be? 
7. Would you rather burn or freeze to death? 
8. If it meant it would solve all world hunger, war, disease and bigotry, would you spend the rest of eternity in Hell? 
9. Was the first crush in your life something you had or something someone had on you?
10. Could you live without having sex ever (again) in exchange for eternal youth?
11. Have you ever watched a full length pornographic movie? 
12. The Beatles or The Rolling Stones? 
13. If you could have the ability to manipulate matter or energy, which would you choose?
14. What was the worst nightmare you ever had? 
15. Would you rather spend one year with your one true love just to never see them again or the rest of your life with second best? 
16. All the sequels/remakes/adaptations/rip-offs in movies nowadays, good or bad?
17. Would you rather be dirt poor and emotionally fulfilled in life or be rich beyond imagination and emotionally dissatisfied for life? 
18. Do you have any (secret) feelings of bigotry to any group of people? 
19. Would you rather be the only person in the world that can read minds or have everyone else in the world be able to read minds except for your own?
20. If everyone in the world would automatically only know one language, which language would you choose?
21. If you were old enough and not in a situation where it would be inappropriate, would you sleep with one of your (past) school teachers/professors? 
22. A world without religion, good, bad, neutral? 
23. The men's rights movement, legitimate cause or laughable, and why? 
24. You can eliminate one of your five senses to substantially strengthen the others, which one and would you do it? 
25. Do looks mean anything to you? Don't lie, could you fall in love with someone you thought was ugly? 
26. Can you understand the mindset and logic used by the opposite spiritual opinion? An atheist understanding the belief in a higher power and vice versa.

The Writing Challenge 1,000 Words in 1 Hour

I've got a wonderful friend named Lizzie, who is a very accomplished writer/author.  Every so often she challenges her writing buddies to write 1,000 in one hour.  Oh how I had that gift!  To write 1,000 words that flow together and actually make sense.  Can I do it? 

I know that I can do anything I set my mind and heart to doing. But there will always be a seed of doubt in my mind.  When someone I loved responded negatively when I told them I knew what I wanted to do in life - write a children's book series for pre-school and kindergarten aged children - my dream was all but completely squashed and self doubt came rolling through me like a crazy train running out of control at 200 miles per hour.  That day I closed my laptop and didn't open it for over two months to write. Ever since that time three and a half years ago, I can't seem to get it all together and as Larry the Cable Guy says "Get 'er done!". 

These days I tend to doubt my own writing abilities.  So many days I sit down, open my shiny, relatively-new laptop and then I just stare at the screen wondering what exactly I should write about.  I can start a blog page and by the end of the first paragraph I have run out of steam.

I have so many great authors that I look up to. I would love to replicate their style. Heck, I'd even love to be able to sit down and finish up the children's book I started about two years ago.  But then that over-powering fear grabs me by my throat.  The tingling sensation moves from my throat upwards to my neck and shoulders and slowly overtakes my brain.  Writer's Block as they call it is the bane of my existence!

Try as I might, I cannot find a way past it and I save the blank page and I close up shop.  Days, weeks, months and even years pass and I don't reopen the partially finished work.  I glance past it when I am on my computer as if it were just a bad dream or a bad time in my life that I wish never had happened. 

Do I have works that I am very proud of? Of course I do!  But those unfinished works, that's what I use to judge myself.  It is what haunts me.  I know in my heart I can write a good story. I've done it before. But I worry way to much about what my audience will think, how they will react and what kind of comments will be left. 

Courage. Yes, that is what I need.  It lacks in my life, in so many aspects. And one thing I am lacking the most courage is to put myself out there for the world to see.  I fear letting my readers down.  I am afraid of being a disappointment to those who support me.  I am afraid of sharing my writings with those literary folks I look up to as my muse.

I have a very long, deep, dark novel sitting in my heart.  I've played the entire novel over and over in my mind. I know who my characters are, where the story takes place and the time frame in which it occurs.  So many details all bottled up inside of me, but I am too afraid to share.  I can't even bring myself to do an outline of the story for fear of not "getting it right".

Where can I find that courage? How do my idols do it?  How do they take that first step off of the ledge and land safely on their feet? Is there a store of courage that they secretly buy all of their super powers?  If so, how does one find admittance to this private shopping facility? I'll gladly pay dues to their special club. But then again, would I be good enough to become a card-carrying member? Or would I be just another drain on their talents?

I recently reviewed all of the drafts I have sitting in my To Be Finished folder.  Man what  a lot of junk I was working on.  Trying to fill shoes bigger than mine will ever be.  Those authors I look up to have the drive, desire and courage that I pine for every time I write. So many times I doubt myself, I lose the desire to finish the piece I've worked on painstakingly for several days. Never to be finished or published on my personal blog.

See? Even writing this meme I doubt myself. Will I finish what I started? Will I make sense? Will someone want to sit and read what stories I have trapped in my head? If they are willing to take the time and read what I've written, will they be genuinely interested?  Will I put forth my best work? Will I be proud of the work I finally finish?

Someday I know I'm going to find a little bit of courage and start that outline. Maybe I'll find a way to block out the entire Universe and just let the words pour out of my mind, heart and soul.  Maybe I'll fill up several thumb drives, each chapter puling you further into my story.  Maybe each chapter will mean even more to someone else like me than I could ever imagine.  Maybe I'll share characters that you love, hate, become jealous of or that become an inspiration to the reader.  Maybe I'll write the next great American love story. 

Once I get it all finished, maybe, just maybe, I'll share it with the person who gave me this challenge to write 1,000 words in one hour and ask her to review my first finished piece of literary art. I'll happily sit there quietly and smile, enjoying the sight of Lizzie's rolling eyes as she reads my novel which will lovingly be dedicated to her and her stubbornness on pushing me to write as much and as often as I can.

Love you Lizzie Walker! Thanks so much for the challenge tonight.  It's time to forget the world and what they say and think about what I've written. It's time to just let the words flow from the brain to the screen!!

November 3, 2012 - Bringing Back the Memories, Renewing Long Lost Friendships

I FOUND OUT WHO MY FRIENDS ARE

 

 

Thirty years ago in June of 1982, I took my last long walk through the hallowed halls of the junior high school building at St. Ambrose Elementary school in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  A lot has happened in my life since those days so long ago.  I graduated from high school, completed a few college classes, loved a few great men who all broke my heart,  moved to Motown, got married, birthed and buried a daughter and brought two more amazing and loving sons into the world. 

 

In all that time, and in all of life's experiences, I forgot about my days "way back when".  I moved on.  Some people I stayed in touch with and others became a distant memory. Trips home were only once a year and time was  constantly squeezed tight running from place to place to visit all the people whom I wanted to see.  Along the way, friends were missed and some feelings were hurt. And every time I headed back to my house in Michigan, thousands of tears were shed.  A lot has changed about that during this last year.... all for the better.

 

With the advent of Facebook, one by one our class came back together. It started with our 25th high school reunion in November, 2011, when people from our parish started talking about getting together for our own class reunion.  People reuniting online and in person, our old circle that was in the past scattered, began to re-form itself.  Friendships that were thought to be lost were found again. We shared the good memories and even the bad ones.  We talked about the teachers we loved and the teachers we thought should rot in hell.  And we even we lucky enough to move one instructor from "teacher" status to that of a good friend.  Life as we know it, in my humble little opinion, got MUCH better.

 

Keeping in touch through electronic media has been wonderful therapy for me.  It lets me into the lives of people who I once couldn't go a day or week without seeing.  I learned about their lives and their children. Learned who lost family members and who gained new members through marriage, birth or adoption. I learned of their triumphs and their tragedies. I laughed with them and shed tears with them, even from 600 miles away.  Little by little, the emails, posts and comments turned into hours long "chat sessions" or, even better, long phone conversations.  The final result lost friendships were being re-imprinted on my heart. 

 

I learned that as much as things change throughout life, way too many things stay the same.  Or at least the people do.   As I reconnected with each member of our class online, I realized just how charmed a life I lived. Something that living so far from home, hating the state I live in, I had forgotten.

 

Last night, a lot of the people who saw me as the shy, introverted "good girl" saw a whole new side of me.  A side of myself that, in the past, I was never comfortable sharing. And I realized why - I never realized how integral a part of my life they were at the time. I am now comfortable in my skin with this crowd.  I know I'm safe in their company.  I can be me, not a shell of myself. They're home to me.  They represent a huge part of my life that when thought of only makes me smile.

 

When I left The Kitchen Bar in Abington last night a simple little country tune came on the radio. And the uncontrollable sobbing began... "Find Out Who Your Friends Are" by Tracy Lawrence.  And then, back at my hotel, I started reading the Facebook posts and the sobbing got worse.  Tears of happiness for having these fine people in my life and tears of sorrow knowing that I won't see many of them in person for at least the next year.  The tears flowed off and on all day long.  Then the pictures started getting posted online and they started all over again.  Every photo has a special place in my memory. The smiles remind me of what a great group of loving people came out of that school, no matter what we faced each and every day. We have a deep, genuine, unbreakable bond that no one else can possibly understand. I thank God every single day for each and every one of them.

 

Some of these people may not know it, but they've talked me off the proverbial ledge quite a few times and they have each earned a special spot in my heart.  Some helped me out when I was lost, without hesitation, without thinking of themselves or what they'd get out of the deal.  Some offered advice and some just an ear to listen. Without some of them, I may not even be here to write this post tonight.  They are truly what made me the person I am today, and for that I will be eternally grateful!

 

Love you all so much and glad to have you back in my life.  I promise this time, I won't let go - at least not without a fight!  In the words of Rodney Atkins, "THESE ARE MY PEOPLE! This is where I come from.  We're giving this life everthing we got and then some. It ain't always pretty, but it's real! It's the way we were made. Wouldn't have it any other way. These are MY people!"

Time to Pick Up the Pen Again

With the death of my previous laptop, so tolled the premature death knell of this blog.  But not so fast my friends.  Phyllis is back!  All thanks to a few short online conversations with a dear high school friend.  Thanks Lizzie for the kick in the pants I so rightly deserved and so desperately needed!

Over the next week or two I will be posting some old stories that I wrote out long hand.  And I'll be including a few that I have published at other blogs that I am no longer maintaining. 

My goals for this site?  To coordinate all of my writings into one spot, finish half written stories and share my life, my family, my goals and my dreams with you. Thanks for coming along for the ride.  I couldn't ask for better company!

Out of Dreams Comes Inspiration

Last night was a rough sleeping night for me to say the least.  Many a night I wake for some unknown reasons. To my dismay, I am often unable to return to sleep.  Last night was one of those nights, mostly.
 

Awakened in the middle of the night by who knows what, I looked at the clock.  2:40 A.M.  I rolled over and closed my eyes trying my best to bring back the sleep that so often escapes me.  This time when I reached out to grab hold of restful sleep, I got lucky and caught it!  I drifted off to Slumberland and passed over the bridge to Dreamland. And what a dream it was!

Walking through the halls of a hospital, a young nurse stops me and tells me that my services are needed. "Who? Me? I'm no medical professional. Are you crazy?" I say to no one but myself. But for some unknown reason I follow the nurse directly into a hospital room. The room was dimly lit, casting shadows everywhere you turned. 

As I came further into the room, I noticed a beautiful, young woman of color, in her early twenties very much pregnant, all alone with no family or friends and in pre-mature labor.A woman whose name I will never know. One look into her eyes and I knew the fear she was facing.  Her baby was coming all too early. The doctors have told her that the chances of her baby's survival were quite grim. In that moment, looking into her tear-filled eyes, I knew I could not leave the room. I've been where she is now and knew that she needed someone who had been there, who has walked this long and painful mile in life. I pulled up a stool, slowly sat down and took her hand in mine and told her she was no longer alone. I sat with her  while she told me all of her dreams for her unborn child.  She didn't plan the pregnancy and she didn't know the sex of her soon to be child. Through the entire labor which wasn't fierce but slow and oddly gentle, we held hands and spoke of her hopes for her child.

At last her blessing arrived, but had no breath. The doctors made an attempt to revive the lifeless body before us, but to no avail. In that moment, they informed this youg lady that her child, a boy, had expired.  Burning hot tears filled both of our eyes.  She asked to see him so that she could kiss her child and tell her how much he was wanted and loved I rose, walked across the room.  I took his tiny body from the nurse and wrapped him in a warm blanket and placed a tiny little woolen hat on his bald little head. I brought him to his mother's waiting arms and gently kissed his head. I asked her "What would you like to name your son?" Her response came quietly and shyly. "I hadn't picked a name yet. I don't know what to name him. What would it matter? He didn't live." Oh how my heart ached for her I said to her, "But he did live. He lived for several months within you. He was part of you. He deserves a name.  Who in life made you smile? Who gave you great joy? Choose that name. A name that will make you smile each time you hear it said or when you speak it." After a long pause, she answered.  "I want to name him Harry. My life has been tumultuous and happiness was always found for me in reading all of the Harry Potter books. It's silly, but it means something to me" "Harry, it is", I told the doctors.

I sat with this young mother for a while longer, helping her to bathe her child and taking photos for her to remember and cherish her precious son. All things that weren't done for me. I didn't want this mother having any regrets that she didn't get to spend the time to be with her baby and to properly begin the grieving process After several hours when the mother was ready, she allowed the nurses to take her child from her.  We sat for a long time, just holding on to each others' hands and crying together.  Two mothers who knew loss in similar ways.  Holding each other up, giving each other the strength they so deperately needed from each other. As a feeling of peace cam over both of us the young lady and the room began to fade away into the darkness and slowy disappeared.  Gone, but not to be forgotten.

Awakened by the ending of this dream, I looked at the clock on my night table.  3:06 A.M.  Wow! What a dream, an amazing adventure.  Upon waking I had to lay there for quite a while trying to discern if this was a dream or a reality for it seemed all to real.  I could still feel this girl's hand in mine and hear her voice saying "Thank you." All day long this has replayed in my mind and I have been trying to figure out just what my mind was telling me to do. 

Since then, I have looked into the certifications needed to be a neo-natal death counselor.  I'm not saying it's a career path that I will be taking but it has certianly given me food for thought. Maybe this is God's calling for me.... Guess it's time to pary for guidance. 

Amazing how God works His way into our lives...

I'll Always Be Her Little Phyllis

This week, the Big E, the monkey boys and I took a nice four day vacation to Chicago.  The five plus hour drive was well worth the scenery. The plan was to enjoy every nano-second. From the visit to Lego Discovery Center to the trip into town for a day at Navy Pier.  It was supposed to be a heavenly (and well-deserved) vacation for this family.

And so it began that way.  Until breakfast at our hotel on day two of the trip. The day our boys have been dreaming of for two years now - a day in Lego Discovery Center.  That's when the texts, phone calls and emails starting bombarding my cell phone and Facebook page.  I knew it could only be bad news when ALL of my maternal cousins were telling me to call them. Picked a cousin from the list and dialed her cell.  I knew what she was going to tell me but I didn't want to hear it.

 

"Aunt Phyllis passed away very early this morning."  ~~Dead silence ~~ "Somehow I knew it, " I told her.

 

At that very minute, my heart shattered into a billion pieces.  My aunt, my God Mother and most importantly my friend had been taken from us all too soon.  No more suffering with her leg problems, no more crying, no more aching for relief from the disease plaguing her body. But even with all that in mind, I didn't want it to be true. 

 

And then the worst of all thoughts hit me. My Mom? Oh my God! Did anyone call my Mom? Please God, don't let me be the one to have to tell her that her baby sister has died.  I'd rather die myself than to break the news to her.  It will break her heart.  Unfortunately for me, my cousin didn't know if anyone contacted my Mom yet.

 

After hanging up the phone with Cecilia, I slowly, hesitantly,  dialed my Mom's number. Busy signal. So I tried her cell.  It was answered on the second ring. After the pleasantries we always exchange, it was time to ask.  "Did you get any calls from Florida?", I asked while trying to brace myself for the possibility of breaking the news. "Yes, I did and I guess you did too."  And with that I exploded in tears. I couldn't breathe, my body shaking with the pain of a heart ache that nothing on this Earth could heal. Mom explained what happened and it just wouldn't set in. "Why? Why didn't God heal her? Why did He have to take her pain away this way?  Why? Why? Why?"

 

My Mom and I talked for a long time and then she said to me "I'm so glad you weren't mad at each other anymore. You keeping in touch with her made her happy."  Yes, Aunt Phyllis and I had our fair share of arguments. We are both Aries babies and have stubborn streaks a mile long. But we always said we're sorry and we always put the bad times where they belonged, in the past never to be brought up again.  And we always told each other like it was.  We sugar coated nothing. But I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Our fights brought us closer and made us understand each other more. For that I am grateful.

 

And then during my conversation with my Mom, something told my brain what the date was... August 21st. One week until Uncle Zig's birthday.  God saw fit to bring Aunt Phyllis home one week before her true love's birthday.  Uncle Zig was smiling that day knowing his bride was coming to Heaven to be with him after three years apart. How befitting!

 

Suddenly it all sank in. I'll never get to hear her laugh again, or get a text from her with a picture of her latest creation whether it was crocheted or sewn. I'll never hear her say "I just dont get this Face Page stuff. You're gonna have to tell me again." No more conversations about all of i

 

I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  Over and over again that day in talking with several of my cousins, we sobbed. And then we laughed hard remembering all of the great and crazy times we had with her.

 

Because we live in Michigan and she in Florida, she never met my sons.  But everywhere I look around my house I see her.  The boys know who she is and how important she is to me and what a pivotal role she played in my life and in a round about way in theirs too. 

 

She's here all around us. In the afghan that she helped cross stitch with my Grandmother, in the quilts she made for my children, in jewelry she gave me. I will never lose sight of her.

 

She will be engraved forever in my memories and in my heart.  I'll never forget the 18 Summers spent at 174 Pleasant St., Ronkonkoma, New York. Or the trips to the Smithtown Mall walking thru the parking lot, holding hands (even at age 18) singing on the top of our lungs:

 

              Aunt Phyllis:  "I'm the Big Phyllis!"

              Me: "And I am the little Phyllis!"

 

Lord how we made my Mom crazy with that!! Every single time we went to the Mall, THAT was our tune! Didn't care who heard us or thought we were completely insane.

 

She used to tell me that I was her practice baby. What an honor that was to have. And I wouldn't trade that for the World!

 

On my sixth birthday, pregnant and at full term with her oldest child, she made me the most amazing bunny-shaped birthday cake.  It was the birthday I remember the clearest. The next day she gave birth to my cousin, Eva Marie, one of the best gifts I ever received. (Six years later, she gave me another of my best gifts, her son Richard.)

 

When Uncle Zig, the kids and she moved to Philadelphia, I was head over heals ecstatic! They were finally in MY town.  I didn't have to wait for holidays or Summer to see her and spend time with her or my cousins! We spent many a night around her kitchen table eating her World Famous Lasagna and Baked Ziti. (She was part Italian after all!) 

 

When she moved to Florida, I cried. I didn't want her to leave, but knew she had to. It was for the best. My first post high school Summer of working, I hopped a plane for a two week visit.  By then I hadn't seen her or Uncle Zig (who was a SUPER COOL DUDE!) for more than a year.  I think I gave her the biggest hug ever the day I arrived! And I had the privlege to go a few more times and stay in her home. 

 

The most precious and memorable trip to Florida took place in May 2002, the Spring after the birth and death of my first child.  Of all the family members I wanted to share Samatha's memory book with, she was the most important person!  We spent quite a long time going through each photo. She hugged the book as tightly as she would have hugged my baby girl. And she let me cry and get out all the heart ache I had been holding in.  She instinctively knew that I needed her at that moment and she gave me her all. I will be eternally grateful for that love.

 

That was just who Phyllis Theresa Petty Schnell Ekloff was... a Giver.  Giver of unconditional love, kindness, smiles, shoulders to lean on, a sympathetic ear to listen when you needed it.  A great giver of tremendously loving hugs, sweet kisses, gigantic belly laughs and tons of smiles.  A talented seamstress, quilter, chrocheter, knitter.  You name it, she could do it.  And she shared her talents with each and every person she ever met.  So many people in the world have a little piece of the Big Phyllis, but I'm so glad I got a bigger piece than most!

 

Until we meet again Auntie, I'll love you for always, I'll like you forever. As long as I'm living MY Big Phyllis you'll be! xoxoxo

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

This post was created in response to a writing prompt by Mama Kat:  "If you were the type to believe in 'signs', descibe a 'sign' you have received from someone."   I'm not sure when I wrote it, but I'm pretty sure it was just prior to returning to my home town just prior to my high school reunion in November, 2011. After seeing these 'signs' to and from my journey tp Philadelphia, I just HAD to share it with all of you. Warning, a few tissues may be required during reading.

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Samantha never walked this Earth, hell she never had the chance!  But that gorgeous little girl really knows how to soar majestically with the regal falcons in our little town and every where that I travel from home.

Back in 2001, I gave birth to a tiny little girl who never really had a chance at life. Born at 25 weeks gestation, her under-developed lungs never took to the medicines the NICU doctors were pumping into her body.  Samantha lived just nine hours but she made an everlasting mark on my heart.

On any given day (especially when I am driving long distances), my magical little girl makes an appearance by way of her on special sign.  She's no longer a tiny infant in my dreams, but a young beauty, sporting glorous, spiraled, auburn pigtails, wearing pink overalls with a pristine white short-sleeved shirt, ruffled white bobby socks with pink trim and snow white sneakers.  Her laugh is pure and her smile endearing. She is a free spirit, a dare devil in her own way!

Early on after "losing" Samantha, she visited me in a dream arriving on the back of a red tail falcon.  Smiling and giggling, holding on to the scruff of its neck, her pigtails flowing in the wind. She hopped off upon landing and rain straight into my arms.  She whispered "I love you Mama. Now just smile for me. I'll always be around you.  My friends here will bring me to you when you need me most. I love you to heaven and back again.  When you see the falcons, I'm there smiling at you and telling you that I love you.  So no more tears Mama, no more tears."

Ever since that day, whenever I see a regal falcon or hawk with its immense wingspan open wide gliding gracefully through the skies, I smile and blow my baby girl a kiss and tell her "I love you more baby girl! I love you more!"

For Smanatha,
With ALL of my never ending love and admiration.
I love you to Heaven and back again, times Infinity!
Love ALWAYS,
Mama
xoxox

P.S.  Thanks for keeping me company on that long drive to and from Gandma & Grandpa's house last week!

Yanni Definitely Has the Truth of Touch

As a member of the One2One Network, I was recently given the opportunity to listen to and review Yanni's newest CD, Truth of Touch.

To be quite honest, I almost passed on this opportunity.  I thought "Yanni?? Isn't he that weird guy with the oddball music?"  But then I thought "What the heck, I've got nothing to lose. I'll listen while I write for my blog." And so I did...

And I am SO glad hat I did not let this opportunity pass me!  The music just simply flows like a peaceful river from my computer speakers.  A difficult post seemed to pour forth from my fingers as I listened to each and every song.  It's hard to write about dealing with a special needs child, but not this time. I wrote like I've never written before.  The music touched a nerve deep inside of me, made me feel like all will be alright with my little corner of world.

And as the tones flowed from my speakers, it wafted through the house drawing my children in.  My oldest, who has Asperger's, fell in love immediately.  He asked if this was his new night-time music.  He sat on the floor and just listened, humming the melodies after the tunes were long gone.  Music like that is a welcome part of our life.  It soothes, it calms, it heals, it helps keep us on an even keel. All of these make this CD well worth the purchase price!

I'll certainly something we'll keep playing over and over again!  We're sold, and hope that you will be too.

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Now for the business part of my review:

I received absolutely no monetary compensation to write this post.  The opinions expressed here are purely my own and not those of any other person or entity.  In exchange for my membership with One2One Network, I received, for review, a free download of Yanni's "Truth of Touch" CD.

Who Says Amazing Things Don't Happen?

So we went to Oakland mall today and an amazing thing happened..... 

Click here to read more. 

Seven - It's OUR Lucky Number

"It's A Boy!"  Those were the words of  Harry A. Ludwig, D. O., the world's most knowledgeable, loving and caring obstetrician.  We just called him "Doc".

Doc was there with us when we got out positive test results with our first child, Samantha. And he was there with us after her death, sobbing tears of pain and sorrow, tears of hopes and dreams crushed.  That man had THE most consoling hugs EVER, the kind you get from your grandpa. The kind of hugs that said everything is going to be all right.  Warm, loving hugs full of hope and happiness.  

That was the reason that a year and a half after Samantha's death, we went back to our good friend wanting to try again for another child.  Doc knew the routine, Glucophage three times a day in conjunction with Clomid.  First month we tried, BINGO! We were expecting.  And Doc was the first person we called to share the news!

The first 26 weeks were the most harrowing.  Waiting, each passing day, with baited breath; we wanted, no, we NEEDED to get to 27 weeks this time to know all was well with our baby-to-be. Through it all, Doc was there promising us "poopy diapers at 3 AM".

It was decided that our new family member would arrive two and a half weeks before my due date of March 28th.  When March 12th arrived, we were filled with so much anxiety, but mostly with joy and happy anticipation.  Up until this point, we didn't know whether it would be a girl or a boy.  The mystery was going to be revealed and our world will change for ever, for the better!

Seven years ago, we heard the most wonderful and amazing words we've ever heard, "It's A Boy!" On Friday, March 12, 2004, at 8:36AM, Eastern Standard Time, our little Buddy came into this world, in the warm, waiting hands of Dr. Harry.  He got his first hug from that great man.

Seven years ago, we heard the saddest words ever "Call a priest, he might not live past today."

Seven years, he's had to over come one medical milestone after another....

In seven years, he has proven all the neo-natologists wrong!

In seven years, he's blown them all away!!

These have been the best seven years of my life and I would not trade them for all the riches or wonders in the world!

Seven years ago, Buddy was gently brought into this world by a wonderful man; a man that we will never forget even though we are separated by time and eternity!  Without him we would not be celebrating another milestone in our lives!  Thanks Doc for one of the best gifts ever. Thanks for our lucky seventh year.  We will love you forever for it!

Happy SEVENTH birthday Buddy! And thank you for being one of the best things to ever happen to me! I love you to Pluto and back again.... and I always will!

They're Going Bald for a Cause

I've been living in my neighborhood now for just over nine years. In that time, I've gotten to know a few of my neighbors, some more than others.  Some are cool, some not so much.  Some friendly, outgoing and fun to hang out with, some, well, not so much.  This is the story of the cool ones...

Last year at this time, my neighbor Kathy, and I were chatting and she asked me what I thought of her husband's newly grown beard.  I said it was a new look for him and asked what made him decide to grow it out.  Her response blew me away.  Very calmly Kathy said, "Mike is going to get his beard and head completely shaved bald the week of St. Patrick's Day." I think she was expecting my response of  "What? Is he nuts? It's so dang cold here in Michigan.  He'll freeze his fool head off."  That was the day I learned about the St. Baldrick's Day Foundation.

2011 Team Clintondale Shavees - Mike, Dennis, Ryan & Jason

What an amazing charitable foundation this is!  Their mission is simple: "The St. Baldrick's Foundation is a volunteer-driven charity committed to funding the most promising research to find cures for childhood cancers and give survivors long and healthy lives." Can't get more simple than that, now can ya? 

That evening a check was delivered to the neighbor's house. 

My neighbor's husband, both sons and their best friend will be shaving their beards and their heads to benefit St. Baldrick's.  Our check has already been forwarded and we're looking forward to seeing our bald neighbors. We're extremely proud to say that we've helped work to kick childhood cancers' collective asses!!

Mike, Jason & Dennis - Post Shave March 2010

Want to help make a difference? Just visit Team Clintondale's page and make a donation. Every PENNY helps. Together we CAN and WILL show kids' cancers just WHO is in charge!


NOTE:  I "borrowed" these photos from our participants. Thanks for sharing guys! And thanks for your bravery!

Project 365 - Chapter 3

Ok, so I made the commitment to take a new photo one a day for 365 days. And so far, I've only missed a day or two. And now without further ado, here's the next Chapter in our lives.

Lego Creations Abound in Our Home

January 17, 2011

Working on My 101 in 1,001 Days

Making My Own Greeting Cards

January 18, 2011

Junior Chef

January 19, 2011

No Pictures Today Mom, PLEASE!

January 20, 2011

A Pleasant Pick-Me-Up from the Big E.

January 21, 2011

 

A Day Well Spent With  Buddy's Best Friend

January 22, 2011

Thinking of My Angel in  Heaven, Samantha Marie

January 23, 2011

I LOVE Turtles!

January 24, 2011

Testing Out the New Purex Complete Crystals

WE LOVE THEM!

January 25, 2011

Thinking of A Future Vacation in Holland, Michigan

(Maybe I'll get to meet Julie)

January 26, 2011

My Favorite Souvenir from Our Holland 2006 Trip

January 27, 2011

Waiting for Warm Summer Nights to
Swing, Sip Wine and Star Gaze

January 28, 2011

Thirst Quencher - My Daily AddictionJanuary 29, 2011

My Other Daily Addiction
Jalapeno Cream Cheese Poppers and Pretzel Nuggets

January 30, 2011

Counting Down the Days till We go to Illinois
To see Jim Henson's Fantastic World
at the Lakeview Museum of Art and Science

January 31, 2011

And so we bid a fond farewell to the first month of 2011. It was an interesting, snow and illness filled month for our family, but we survived. Here's to a great February, 2011. Hoping it's filled with all the love St. Valentine will allow!

For The Love…Of Blogging Top Ten Tuesday

OK, so I moseyed on over to Sluiter Nation today as I usually do and came across Katie's top ten reasons that she blogs.  So, I thought I'd give it a go...

10.  Freedom. Blogging gives me the freedom to say the things to the world that I would otherwise not say to their face.  If I get annoyed with some one, I blog about it.  If someone hurts me and I can't face that person, I blog about it.  I can even share a good joke or laugh.

09.  Therapy.  Blogging helps me prepare for the next session with my son's therapist.  When I write posts about how things went or what I'm hoping for I sometimes hope that my little thoughts will help some other Mom going through the same things as I face with my son.  It also helps me get through the rough and dark days whe n I can't deal with the death of my daughter.

08. It's an Amazing Support System.  This wholeheartedly connects to # 9.  When I have a bad day with my son and he's not doing so well, I can post a blog and know that someone out there has walked in my footsteps already and can lend a supportive shoulder to lean on.  We can cry, laugh, scream and even sing together.

07. The Sisterhood That is Dear to My Heart.  I've "met" so many amazing women in just the six months I've been blogging.  If I post a question on a forum or just stop to spread some blog love, I know that they will genuinely appreciate it.  They are there to listen, lend a help when you're stuck in writer's block prison and will give you honest to goodness feed back when you ask their opinion.  And these women? They don't care what size you are, whether or not you own the latest fashions or designer purses or even the brand of cheap wine you drink.  They just care about YOU.

06. Seeing the World Through Others' Eyes.  I've met so many great people from all pover these United States.  I've learned about life in Missouri, California, Texas and even about life in our neighbor to the north, Canada.

05. Reading Others' Blogs.  I love to read and just don't have the time to devote to reading an entire novel.  Blogs are short (mostly) and to the point. It's a great escape for me.

04. Reviving the Creative Juices.  Many, many moons ago I wrote poetry when I was just a wee school girl.  Then I grew up and got a life and slowly stopped writing.  Blogging has revived my love for the written word.  Once I start typing I just can NOT seem to stop.

03. It's ALL MINE.  No one can tell me what to write or how to write it.  I can write fact or fiction.  I can be overly dramatic or cleverly subdued.  No one can edit away my words to meet their hidden agendas.  I can chose to accept or delete their comments if they get too personal or too nasty. It's MINE and no one can take it away from me!

02. Leaving a Legacy for My Children.  Years from now when my memory has faded, I will be able to log in to my computer and share my life with my sons and their children.  They'll know the REAL Mom and what she felt and what she dreamed. 

01. Just For Me To Remember Who I Am.  Sometimes we, in the many roles of wife, mother, daughter, friend, get so lost we don't know just exactly who we are.  Blogging gives me the opportunity to remember just who I was before all of the life changing events that happened to me actually happened.


So tell me, why do YOU blog??  Jot 'em down and share with the class over st Slutier Nation.  Go ahead, what are you waiting for?  Join  our BLOG HOP, won't you?