{MckMama} An Open Letter To A Mommy Blogger Gone Wrong

Dear Jennifer aka MckMama:

I am not one to jump into drama. I tend to tread around the fray and only jump in when it directly impacts me and the lives of others. I believe in standing up, stepping out, and speaking loudly to better those around me. Yesterday evening I glanced at your blog. It had been a while since I looked at your site, three words caught my eye and I became very angry. MckMama wrote: God Hates Divorce as her reason to why she isn’t going to leave her abusive husband. This alone is not true and is twisting the beauty of religion into a horrible being. In truth the Bible never states that God hates divorce nor does it mention that he hates anything.

MckMama goes on to state that God wants her to honor, forgive, and be with her husband. A man who has laid his hands upon her in violence, cut off all communication, and left her fending alone with five young children. The man I described does not deserve honor. He deserves a kick in the ass, yet she believes that God wants her to stay and to honor the man who fathered her children. MckMama tells other women to try to make their marriages work. To honor God by obeying your husband, no matter how bad he is you must obey. You must honor the man who lays his hands upon you. Why because you deserved it. Deserved it because you must not have lived up to God’s standard of honoring and obeying your husband. In truth no woman deserves to be hit.

MckMama stop hiding behind your God. Come into the light admit your wrongs and speak the truth. The truth in the end will set you free. Public records prove to us that you and your husband filed bankruptcy, went through foreclosure, and have thousands of dollars in tax liens. Admit that you exploit your children for clicks and the all mighty dollar. Admit that you are wrong for miss using religion. Isn’t it time you righted the course and set yourself free.

MckMama do you not realize that your words can cause harm. Your reader base is huge and some of those women are trapped. Trapped in bad marriages and are looking at you for advice. Every word you write seeps into their soul and most will stay because you said “God wants me to obey my husband.” A God-fearing woman won’t leave her abusive husband, she will stay. She will continue to cover the dark bruises with thick make-up and put on a smile even though she’s dying inside. Some stay until their last breath is violently taken from their body. Emotional/mental abuse has broken their spirits and they can no longer face the sun. They turn to a woman like you who says “God wants us to obey and honor our husbands.” So they walk back into those violent hands. They no longer feel worth it and now they have a fresh bruise upon them. Those women need a push in the right direction. She needs to know that its ok to walk away and to save herself. That when the ink dries on her divorce decree God will still love her. You have the power to give her that push and stand by her side as she passes through the worst moment of her life. To stand by her side, dry her tears, and help her find her self again. Because in this world every woman deserves a chance in the sun. A chance to fight for herself. There is nothing more beautiful than watching someone find themselves again.

MckMama I know your kind. Your kind is abrasive and cowardly hides behind the Bible. Someone just like you once told me: “AmandaJean your stroke was a punishment from God. God doesn’t want us to use contraception. You got what you deserved. Now you must pay for your sin.” I promptly told that woman the following: My stroke was not a punishment. If it was meant to be a punishment for using contraception than God would have let me die that day. The ultimate punishment is death and my dear I’m still standing above ground. So that is a sign that My God loves me, he loves me because he let me live. Think about that the next time you use the name of God in an untruthful light.

People use God in funny ways and try to use the power of religion to benefit their own well-being. God is not a tool, he is a man. A very loving man who accepts all of his children. Gay, straight, lesbian and so on, he knows no hate only love. I am a firm believer that we are all made in God’s image, yup you read that right MckMama. We are all created in the image of God, so therefore a small piece of God is Gay. Otherwise our gay brothers and sisters wouldn’t be walking on this earth. God does not use homosexuality as a punishment. Gay people are beautiful and I am proud to stand by their side and fight for what is right. They are and will always be human just like you and me.

MckMama you have five beautiful children. Children are God’s way of letting us know that he still has faith in man kind. Each child is a new beginning a beautiful gift, and something that should never be exploited. I would give anything to have my son standing above ground. A man once told me: “AmandaJean your baby died because you did something wrong in Gods eyes. Its his way of letting you know he doesn’t have faith in you and doesn’t think your worthy enough to be a Mom. He is punishing you for your sins.” I looked down at my shoes and said: My God loves me. He has faith in me. My x husband wasn’t there the day I found out Alucious died. He didn’t even really care. Yet I know I wasn’t alone, because that is when God carried me. My son is with me in spirit and one day I will hold my baby in my arms. I pray you never have to know what its like to lose a child. You never get over the death of a child you just learn to live with it.

Stop and tell your children you love them. Admit to the world that you exploit them for clicks. I bet you get giddy when the number of clicks sky-rocket on your site. When they sky-rocket you get a nice paycheck in the mail. I’ve seen the blogs about how you used your son Stellan’s medical trauma to get more clicks to your site. You sat there and blogged while your child was fighting for his life. I fight for children like your son. Children who are born with heart defects and are fighting for their lives. I tell my congressmen that we need more funding for pediatric heart defects and that we need to find a cure. You are lucky Jennifer. Lucky because you can hold Stellan. My Father’s niece died so your son could thrive. She was the first neonatal heart transplant in Minnesota. She lived to be three years old and they gain an insight into the working of a child’s heart. That research was put into books, journals and shared across this land. That research saved your child. So be thankful, be greatful, and let the world know how incredibly lucky you are. Because at any moment you could be standing in my shoes. I walk this earth without my son.

MckMama I am standing up for your so-called sinners and I am calling you out. You are a liar. A liar Jennifer who uses religion to benefit her own personal gains. Someone who prays upon the hearts of the weak and someone who does not stand up for herself or mankind. You call yourself a sinner. It’s true you are. No one not even Jesus left this world without sin. Because if you haven’t sinned then my friend you never lived at all. I urge you to stand up for yourself and to better the lives of your children. Free yourself from the arms of abuse. Stop twisting the Bible and spewing words of hate. Hate is a sickness. Face the facts, let justice seep in, and truly know what its like to stand in the light. Stop hiding in the corners and stand proudly in the center of your life.

Jennifer, please realize that this isn’t an attack. Its awake up call. My God smiles upon all of us and accepts that we will sin. I am urging you to click the contacts tab up above and tell me exactly which page in the Bible says “God Hates Divorce.” Tell me the exact page that reads “God Hates homosexuals.” Jennifer I want to know what book tells women “You must obey and honor your abusive husband.” Send me the page numbers Jennifer, send me your proof that God is capable of hate. I’ll be waiting for your email. To your followers I say this: BRING IT! I am not afraid of you. Your words, your cowardly beliefs mean nothing to me. Because I know the meaning of God.

Mostly Jennifer email me when you decide to fight for yourself. I will stand by your side and whisper “Go Jennifer Go in your ear.” I will not judge you nor will I tell you its wrong. A wise attorney once told me: “It all comes down to a judgment call. There are no winners or losers. It doesn’t matter who walks away first.” MckMama I heard those words on Friday June 25th, 2010. It gave me the push I needed to walk out that door On June 27th, 2010. That attorney made me realize it was ok to walk away from my marriage. All of my other friends told me to stay. To stay with a man who mentally and emotionally abused me. I was so broken and hurt that when I looked in the mirror I didn’t see me. I had lost myself and I was tired of trying to love a man who was repulsed by me. That Attorney told me it was ok and that I would be ok. He was right it hurt, it sucked, and now I am ok.

I have faith that if you chose to divorce your husband, you’d be ok too. An if your God turns his back on you because you signed a divorce decree. Then Jennifer I will show you my God who will welcome you with open arms. My God welcomes all of his children and would never turn his back on them. He stands by us during our darkest hour and cheers us on when we stand in the sun. My God loves you.

All I ask is this: Please be careful with how you use religion. You have no idea what your reader is going through. For all you know she is reading your blog while holding an ice pack to her face and wondering when the next punch will come. Your words regarding homosexuals could push someone over the edge. Your words of hate could be the last thing someone reads before taking their own life. Know that sick people look at your site and you are subjecting your beautiful children to their perverted minds. Hug your children and protect them with every fiber of your being. Mostly Jennifer tell people that you “think” God wants us to do this or that. Don’t say “God said that he wants us or God says we should do xyz.” In this time of trial people are clinging to any last shred of hope they can find. Thats all I ask is that you put money aside and think about how your words impact people.

Truthfully Yours
AmandaJean

{Hearts} On 22 – I Made A Promise To My Heart

February is for lovers and now thanks to the American Heart Association it is now known as National Heart Health Awareness Month. Or simply “Go Red!” Before October 22nd, 2009 it was about my family and sharing my family’s story. I wore my red dress proudly, shared Emma’s story, and talked about almost losing my father to heart disease. Today I still wear my red dress proudly, talk about Emma, my Dad, and now I am sharing my STORY.

A story of hope. I am living proof that with the right care you can survive a stroke and come out on the other side shining. Sadly not every survivor bounces back and they struggle to find themselves again. I often think about the ones who died, most never saw it coming, and their families were left wondering.

I admit that I have survivors guilt. Sometimes I lay awake at night wondering why did I survive that day? I think about my cousin who died at the age of three she wanted to live, she wanted to grow, yet God chose her that day. I have stood at funerals and thought “God you saved me……Why couldn’t you reach in and save my friend? What makes me different? Ah moments often come to me when I am in the shower or driving in the Prius. One day it dawned on me, the ER Dr told me that day “AmandaJean if you had gotten here five minutes later than you did, you would have died.” By sheer luck I beat death.

Luck was on my side that day. I often tell people I consider myself lucky. Lucky because I had a pulmonary embolism induced stroke. People usually give me a funny look and say “Why the hell is that lucky?” Its simple really, if I never had my P.E. induced stroke I wouldn’t have found the strength to fight for me. My stroke taught me to fight for myself. In hindsight I think it was God’s way to prepare me for the worst year of my life. In October I had my stroke, in May my son Alucious died, and in June I walked away from a loveless marriage. Now those three events add up to one big pile of shit. So to me my P.E. induced stroke was the training wheels I needed to get myself through the worst 9 months of my life.

Mostly it has allowed me to be a voice and to lobby for a better day. A day where we are all living heart healthy. My dream would be to find a cure for heart disease and eliminate stroke. It’s a big dream however I am confident that we can achieve it together. Hundreds of women came together to celebrate “Go Red” at the annual lunch and learn event held in Minneapolis.
The room was filled with amazing energy. Every single woman was wearing red and we demanded a better tomorrow. Stories were shared, our blood pressure was checked, we got red lips, and we made promises to our hearts. A promise to live a heart healthy life.
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On National wear red day my Twitter feed exploded. So many amazing beautiful women tweeted "I'm going red for @NinjaInTheCity." I was literally in tears hundreds of men and women across our great state wore red in honor of me. Even their children wore red and that made my surviving heart burst with joy. I am deeply honored by their simple act of wearing red in my name. So if you wore red on February 4th in my honor, know that I thank you from the bottom of my surviving heart. You made my day so bright and are encouraging me to be a thriving survivor. I promise to not only survive, but to thrive!

A promise to carry this energy of finding a cure and preventing heart disease into the next 10 months of the year. To contact my legislators, congressman, and anyone who will listen to me to enact legislation that will better the lives of all Minnesotans. Each of you are capable of saving a life. All you need to know are three letters C. P. R. Take a few minutes and google it, watch a YouTube video, or heck take a first aid course and learn how to perform CPR. Once you’ve earned your CPR cred you can learn the meaning of F.A.S.T.

When dealing with a possible stroke you need to be: F.A.S.T.
F—FACE: Ask the person to smile. Does one side of the face droop?

A—ARMS: Ask the person to raise both arms. Does one arm drift downward?

S—SPEECH: Ask the person to repeat a simple phrase. Is their speech slurred or strange?

T—TIME: If you observe any of these signs, call 9-1-1 immediately.
When you are F.A.S.T you can save a life.

So go ahead make a promise to yourself, your family, and to the world that you will be heart healthy. Take the time to learn CPR, remember to act F.A.S.T., and listen to your heart. You only get one heart and that heart will never steer you wrong.

{Charlie’s Eulogy} Good Bye My Sweet Friend

Good bye is never easy. Maybe this is why the Ojibway people do not have a word for good-bye. My Father always tells me see you later because there is no such thing as a good-bye. One someone leaves us our hearts are filled with pain and our minds are left wondering why.

Why is something I have uttered numerous times over the past few days. I got angry with God and dared to ask why the fuck Charlie. Of all the people on this earth you could have called home, YOU chose to call home my best friend. Maybe God didn’t realize how much we needed Charlie. How much Charlie meant to each and every one of us. Like many of you in this room I loved Charlie more than words can say. We’ve been in this place before. We’ve said good-bye before. This is where we said good-bye to Charlie’s brother Connor. Those two were something else and they meant the world to me. Now my world is dim and my faith is hindered.

Our wold will never be the same. Charlie was one hell of a man and he was an even better friend. He stood up for those who could not stand. Charlie gave a voice to the silent and he fought like hell to bring a little justice into this world. When I think of the word ‘Attorney” I will always picture Charlie. He lived and breathed what he practiced. Not to mention he kept me up late at night proofing his drafts and before each court appearance I’d give him a pep talk. I’d tell him “Go Charlie Go! You can do this! You are smart now get in there and show them what your made of!” Charlie would chuckle. I do know he won more cases than he lost. So that is all the proof we need that he was one hell of an attorney.

Charlie was an attorney who loved to play board games and you had to play by his rules. Charlie and I would play board games into the wee hours of the morning. He told me once “AJ all of life’s problems can be solved with a board game and a shot of whiskey.” I think Charlie was on the right track. The outside world seemed to disappear with each roll of the dice. As crazy as it seems board games were the perfect distraction and would often lead to deep conversations. Either that it led to me being tipsy and Charlie’s wild laughter filling the condo. I still say he cheated and I never learned how to drink whiskey like a man.

Charlie had a wild streak in him and was always searching for his next adventure. His adventures found him navigating the streets of Europe, climbing the lime stone cliffs of the midwest, and skinny dipping in Lake Superior. He could make the most mundane things into an adventure. Charlie loved working with the Native Youth and supported out-door adventure programing. I watched him teach young kids how to rock climb, wind surf, and survive in the woods. Charlie mentored and encouraged children to seek a college education. He wanted them to seek adventure and to live a life that dreams are made of. He believed that anything was possible.

Charlie lived a life that dreams were made of and he fought like hell to make sure each one of us had an amazing life too. He was our personal cheer leader always encouraging us on to the next peak. Charlie didn’t believe in settling and if you settled he’d give you hell for it. Life is a journey worth taking.

You may have noticed that Charlie has quite a few things in his casket. A few were put there by me. Connect Four. As we all know Charlie’s favorite game was Connect Four this one happens to be special and goes along with the photo of the Muppet Like Dog. You see late one night Charlie and I were so into our game we forgot about the muppet. So the Muppet like dog took it upon himself to chew on the checkers. That was the only night I ever beat Charlie at Connect four.

Charlie loved Cullen. When he was in town I would come home to a note that read “Kidnapped Cullen. He needed some quality man time. Collect at your own risk as we will be sitting naked on the couch drinking beer! Love Charlie and the muppet like dog.” I am going to miss coming home to a ransom note and having to interrupt man and muppet like dog time.

Charlie was an amazing man and I am greatful that I got the chance to call him my friend. Charlie taught me to reach for the clouds, to bust through glass ceilings, and to have faith again. He was one of the greatest things to ever happen to me and my life will never be the same.

We are lucky because God sent us an Angel and not everyone gets to play with an angel on earth. One thing can be said for Charlie he lived a life filled with risks, love, laughter, tears, honor, and adventure. He lived a life with no regrets and we should do the same.

{Charlie} Board Games and Life Lessons


I can honestly say that I have been to more funerals than I have weddings. I have been to more wakes than baptisms. On my way home from work today I realized that I have out lived three of my dearest friends. Days like Thursday I faced the sun and dared to ask “Why?” Why God do you keep taking my friends away. Then I paused for a moment and thought “maybe I just know how to befriend earth-bound angels. Maybe God saw that their purpose was served and he called his weary travelers home. Home to rest on the clouds of heaven.

I didn’t want to go home after work and I knew I had to go to Charlie’s condo. I wasn’t ready so I drove out to the Mall of America and walked around for a few hours. The mall was filled with groups of friends, laughter and smiles. I didn’t feel like smiling. Inside I was dying. I wanted my best friend back. Not even gummy butterflies could turn my frown into a smile. It was getting late so I headed home to get the muppet like dog and we drove over to the Ivy.

As I walked in the door man greeted me and asked “Hey AJ! How are you. Charlie must be home early if your here tonight.” I lost it right there in the lobby. I looked at him and said Charlie isn’t coming home. “Oh Mr. Charlie staying in NYC permanently?” No sir, Charlie died this morning. He won’t be coming home. The doorman walked me to the elevator bay and gave me hug.

That was the longest elevator ride ever and it felt weird walking into his condo. Things looked different to me and it didn’t feel the same. It didn’t feel like Charlies home any more. His coffee table was filled with board games and playboys. The throw blanket on his couch still smelled like his cologne. Cullen was walking around looking for him and I said “Charlie isn’t coming home pal. Our Charlie is gone.” Cullen scampered off as I curled up in the blanket breathing his scent in. Looking out at the Minneapolis Skyline. The view is why Charlie loved living in The Ivy.

I laughed a little, Charlie use to tell me “AJ the moment you fall a sleep is when the fun begins.” That is when he’d hijack my twitter account and tweet my secrets or that nights sleep conversation to the world. I’d fall a sleep next to him as he was drafting documents for and plotting his plan of action for his next big court date. He’d tell me “AJ in you I’ve got the best of both worlds. I’ve got a best friend who is also my paralegal.” Best part is I don’t have to bill you for your proofing and drafting expertise.”

The Black’s Law Dictionary sat next to connect four on the coffee table. I ran my fingers across the box and the tears began to fall. Charlie loved that game and I remembered how excited he was when he bought it. I sat on the floor watching him pop out the plastic pieces and explaining “Charlies version” of the game. If you lost you had to take a shot of whiskey. I swear he cheated. I was the one taking the shots and getting tipsy. He’d look at me wild-eyed and would let out a roar of a laugh. I realize now that playing board games was a distraction from the outside world. When we sat on the floor he was not a lawyer and I was not a paralegal. We were simply Charlie and AJ best friends for life.

The muppet was being super quiet so I got up to investigate. I found him curled up in one of Charlies sweat shirts that he left on his bedroom floor. I nelt down beside him. His eyes looked so sad he huffed a little, the tears began to fall again. I patted Cullen’s head and said “I’m gonna miss him to pal.”

As I sat next to the muppet I kept hoping that Charlie would burst through the door. He didn’t it was just me and my muppet like dog. I quickly glanced at the clock it was almost midnight and I had to be up early for work. So I scooped up Connect Four and a few other things that would be put into his casket. I made sure everything was the way Charlie left it and said goodbye. I have so many good memories in that condo, I hope the next person loves it as much as he did.

Our friendship grew out of horrible circumstances and in the end it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. Charlie saw me through the hard times and cheered me on during the good times. Charlie was my rock, my bartender, psychologist, partner in crime, and mostly he was my best friend.

{Life Lessons} What Working At A Large Firm Taught Me

In life we long for success. We long for respect and aim high. Sometimes we get what we want and we realize that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Over the past 7 months I worked for a large firm down town. I gave the case everything I had. Before I knew it summer had turned into fall and fall slowly slipped into winter. I barely saw my friends, golfed, or sailed. I just worked and worked some more. Overtime replaced nights on the mall with friends and dates were hard to come by. One Saturday night I was told “Maybe you should marry your work. Thats the only thing you care about.” I understood why he was angry. Yet heart broken. It was true my work became my life.

What made the late nights worth it was knowing that I was making a difference. That I was changing lives and helping the attorneys do the same. Then again when the clock hit 5 all of my coworkers left. They didn’t care like I did. They chose to view it as a job and not their moment to create change. They didn’t step up or say how can we make this better. They just chose to do enough to get by and enough to get a pay check on Friday. By Thanks Giving I was burnt out. December brought the news that I was fighting a disease and getting sicker by the day. Even through illness I still clocked 50+ hours a week. Yet one day I looked around and decided that something had to change. I loved my job, yet it didn’t love me back.

The New Year brought interviews both in and out of state. Law firms are a lot like men. You have to keep going on dates until you find the right one. Soon luck would be on my side and a perfect match was made. I was moving on from the big firm to a smaller firm that valued passion and hard work. One where they believed in having fun and a balance. A balance between work and home. Something I never had at the big down town firm. Something I longed for. {A} was right when he told me I should marry my work. At the time that was all I valued.

Now I actually leave the office at a decent hour. I can get things done, hit up Target and walk the Muppet like Dog around the lake.

I learned a huge lesson at the big firm: “Life isn’t about work and work should not take over your life.” Life should be filled with laughter, friends, late nights, and adventure. Life isn’t about the moments that make us money; it is about the moments that take our breath away.

Red Dresses Are Prettier Than Pink Ribbons


The Susan G Komen foundation has been getting a lot of press lately. The thing is I don’t like pink ribbons. They come out in October and everything goes pink. Even my coveted peanut butter M&Ms go pink and I refuse to buy them. Why you ask? So little of the money raised goes to research. If you stop and think with the billions of dollars raised they should have a cure for breast cancer by now. They don’t. Truth is cancer makes money and Komen likes stuffing their pockets.

February is for lovers and for the past 9 years it has been National Women’s Heart Health Month or simply known as Go Red for Women. I am sure you have seen the tiny little red dress pins or have heard women talk about them. I like red and I like dresses even more. I have always been apart of the Go Red For Women movement. Little did I know the information I was sharing would save my own life. On October 22nd 2009 I had a massive pulmonary embolism and stroke. I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday. If the ER doctor hadn’t been informed about the link of hormonal contraceptives and blood clots I would have died. My family would have been planning my funeral instead of my birthday party. I would have never gotten to hold my niece Sophia. My story would have ended at 26.

However that day it didn’t end a new chapter was to be written. That chapter included learning to survive and live with my new normal. A normal that I have come to accept with grace. The only thing I can’t accept is that Heart Disease, strokes, and heart attacks kill more women per year than breast and gynecological cancers. Yet the government gives the National institute of health very little money to research heart disease in women. Breast cancer receive more money, yet thousands of women die each year from heart disease and strokes. It is truly the silent killer. Most women don’t know they are affected until its to late.

Heart disease deserves the same spot light as the pink ribbon. Maybe one day the NFL will paint a Red Dress on the 50 yard line and show our cause some love. Red dresses are cool and the women who wear them are even cooler. My stroke changed my life and cemented my purpose. As a You’re the Cure Congressional district leader I lobby for your heart. You are the reason I get up each morning and fire off emails to our congressmen, legislators, and anyone who listen to me. Why, because I hope one day I will be able to tuck my Red dress away because we eliminated heart disease. It’s a big dream, yet I know its possible. Because together we can and we will save lives by going Red.

We can show Komen whose boss by beating them to a cure, by promoting heart healthy living tips and sharing our stories. Our words, our journeys, and our hearts matter. As survivors we do not need a pink ribbon to make us feel important. We know we are important because each one of us beat the widow maker. Each one of us are standing above ground and continue to fight for those who lie six feet under us.

So I am asking from the bottom of my surviving heart that you put the pink away and wear Red on Friday February 3rd. Together we can save lives and we can find a cure for heart disease. We owe it to the hundreds of thousands of women who are six feet under to find that cure. Because those women were loved, they mattered, and someone is missing them dearly. Mostly those women matter to this survivor.

{Sisters} She Smiles

I’ve waited my whole life for the moment where I could give back to my sister. Early Saturday morning that moment came. Ben had left a voice mail letting me know that Sophia was being transported by ambulance to a bigger hospital with a NICU. The kicker my sister couldn’t go with. She needed to stay at the hospital and recover from her c-section. Ben called and asked me to come be with her. To get her up, moving, and eating so she could get to her daughter.

My students were happy that ACT prep class was over early. There was no place more important than being at my sister’s side. When I walked into her room she was trying to eat. Lord only knows why she asked for a heavy Arbbys sandwich. That sandwich was winning and she was losing. I watched her struggle to get out of bed. While she was in the bathroom our Mama walked in. My sister was asking for her earlier.

If you know our Mother than you know she is a drill Sargent. I can’t blame her for being that way. The woman had to raise a sick child and brought both of us to the top of our game. We strived for perfection. My sister couldn’t reach the brass ring. Instead she chose to give in to the shit around her. College slipped through her fingers and she settled for a certificate. My beautiful sister chose to settle. While I traveled the world and honed my craft. I rose to the top and she stood by my side cheering me on. As I watched my sister I knew she was giving in she was settling for what was and not thinking of getting through the pain.

After a good nap she was up and walking in the hall. My sister was fighting back. For once she chose not to settle for what was but for what could be. I cheered her on as she walked and said to her “Do you remember what you’d whisper in my ear when I was too sick to move.” She said No. “You said to me “Bobbie bird grow strong and big. I want to play with you. You my sister and my friend.” She cracked a smile and walked a little further. Once we got back to her room she was ready for a shower. The nurse came in and explained a few things to us. I was off to let the muppet out. When I came back I found a completely different woman.

She was showered, dressed, and eating. Smiling from ear to ear. Eyes glued to storage wars. I giggled when I saw her. My sister was back. She found the strength to get through the pain and get closer to her daughter. Soon our parents left and it was just us. Hanging out in her hospital room having a slumber party. My sister said I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sophia. I told her Sophia is like her auntie and that little girl isn’t going anywhere. Lord knows I’ve almost died 3 times and I am still standing. I said “Fathead you are going to have a gazillion years with Sophia. She is in the best hands and she is a fighter. We never give up.” She looked up with tears in her eyes and cracked a smile.

I swear she kept me up until almost 1 am. The Dr. came in at 7:05 to tell my sister that she was free to go. All we had to do was tell the nurses to get the paper work in order. She ordered breakfast and took a shower. As I sat on the couch watching some trashy travel show she asked me “can you come here?” “I need help getting dressed.” The poor thing couldn’t bend over. My the tables have turned I said. Again she smiled. Once she was dressed I told the nurses we were ready to bust out. I am happy to report that she walked out on her own accord. I shoved her in the prius and we were on our way.

I stopped by the NICU on Sunday night. Sophia had wires coming from all directions and my sister sat in the rocker with a smile. She was with her baby. An I had kept my promise. I told her on Saturday ” I will do everything in my power to get you to Sophia.” I held to my word and watched as Jammie held Sophia in her arms. Sophia was a sleep in her Mommys arms and my sister was happy. Her happiness was worth one night of crappy sleep on a hospital couch. This was my moment to give back to her and show her that she was stronger than she ever thought possible.