A Colorado number flashed across the screen, having no idea who it was I hit decline call. The number it kept calling and a voicemail was left. It was Steve, he was in town on business and wanted to catch up. Steve was Charlie’s associate, together they wore their white hats and fought for justice. I haven’t seen Steve since 2012, he met me at The Butcher and the Boar, being a partner has aged him, yet his smile was still the same.
He spotted me and came running over, the man gives good hugs. He asked “do you still drink the same?” Yes I said, my whiskey on the rocks with a twist of lime was ordered and our waitress lead us to our table. Steve talked about his new cases, life as a partner, and mostly how he realized that he could never fill Charlie’s shoes. Agriculture Business Law is a tough game, but the payoff and recognition are worth the long hours. We talked about the big three, GMOs, and seed copyrights. Boring to some but highly entertaining to me.
Steve loves to tell me stories about Charlie. Stories of how Charlie had to search every town and airport for a candy shop to bring me strangely shaped gummy candies. Steve quickly caught on to the silly tradition and helped Charlie in his search. Eye balls, that was the strangest thing they ever found for me and the eye balls were so life like I refused to eat them. They are still in my freezer to this day.
With our bellies full of animals and other deliciousness we set out for a walk on the chilly Minneapolis streets. The Spoon bridge glistened under the lights, I paused for a moment, and allowed myself to remember how much Charlie liked the sculpture. Steve noticed that I paused and asked “what’s going through that head of yours.” Nothing I said. He looked at me grabbed my shoulders and put his forehead to mine and said “I’ve read your blog I know, I know you are hurting.” Full on in public ugly cry, yup I am a cryer and it just all came out. Steve smiled and said “a wise man once told me that board games and whiskey can solve all of life’s problems.”
I’ve heard those words numerous times and they brought me comfort. I walked Steve back to the W and was going to head home, He stopped me and said come up to my room for a second. I laughed and said no I am good, the dog he needs me. Steve wasn’t taking no for an answer, so I amused him and followed. Up in the room he repeated “a wise man once told me that board games and whiskey can solve all of life’s problems.” He pulled Checkers out of his suitcase, a bottle of whiskey from a brown bag and two Dixie cups.
I took of my coat and proclaimed, “I get to be red and I get to go first.” Deal! With each checker moved my BFF breakup and crappy October melted into the board. Steve listened carefully and interjected when necessary. Through others I was able to see that Gopher Guy was my bottom and I, I can do better. Steve said to me “you deserve someone who is going to stand up and change the status quo and not please the masses.” Those words made me smile. Steve was right, I deserve someone who is going to vouch for me and protect me. Not someone who tucks me in their pocket and keeps me a secret from their friends. I don’t want to be someone’s secret pocket friend or girlfriend for that matter. I am never going to be someone’s pocket friend or pocket crush again. If you like me own it and who gives a fuck what people think. Just remember no one ever erected a statute to a critic.
Charlie was somewhat right, board games and whiskey can’t create world peace, however they do provide a much needed distraction from life. A couple games of Checkers and Steve’s perspective were exactly what I needed.
The above quote has kept me going on my toughest days. At the end of the day we are all just little nuts trying to hold our ground. What we do with that ground is what matters. What matters is that we hold steady in the winds of change and stay true to who we are when the storms end.
My life has been anything but easy and there are moments where I look up and say “why me?” I didn’t choose this life, it chose me. I am the human Bermuda Triangle and I always brace myself for hurricanes. I have built up walls to hide the hurt and to keep people out. My heart it’s been broken and patched a time or two. I am afraid that if I put it out there it will get sucked right back into the triangle.
Survivor, that’s a term I hear over and over again. I want to be more than a survivor. I want to be more than a grieving mother, friend and fiancé. I want to be more than broken. Broken is what people see when they look at me. I am strong and mighty on the outside, but on the inside its a different story. I live with one foot in the now and one in the past. Emotions, I am not good at dealing with them. I tuck them in my back pocket and march on.
I cannot out run my emotions, or the heart ache, or the fact that I survived, and definitely not my past. In order to move on I need to face the very things that made me who I am. I need to embrace the very things that terrify me and to realize that I too am human. I, I need to face my shit and deal with my neatly pocketed emotions.
When I deal with the past, face the ugly, and own my shit I will be able to face myself. I want to have healthy long lasting relationships. I want to actually connect with a man on a deep you know all my secrets kind of level, and to stop pushing my dearest friends away when I feel they are to close.
Year 32 is going to be the year of been there, done that, and I owned my shit. It’s not going to be easy, yet I am not scared. My family and friends are cheering me on and all of them think owning my shit is a good idea.
After all in five short years I had a stroke, lost a child, got a divorce, lost friends, fell in love, lost my fiancé, got sick, and yea the list goes on………. It’s time to face all of those things and to deal with the emotions of the past. I am finally ready to face what’s in my back pocket and mostly I am ready to face myself.
When I walk onto a Reservation I do not have to drop my pedigree, some how they just know that I belong. I am a biracial girl growing up in a one color world. History has taught us that the “n word” isn’t cool yet its still ok to shout out “RED SKINS” on game day. No one bats an eye when Native American imagery is used in a harmful light, they scoff when we ask them to stop, and they they just don’t change. The American Indian is the personal punching bag of the American people and it will remain socially acceptable until we say NO MORE!
NO MORE! The time is now to rise up and fight for ourselves. Tomorrow thousands of full bloods, half breeds, friends, and supporters will unite as one. As one in a never ending battle to protect our heritage. I am and will always be more than the color of my skin. I am more than my blood quantum. I have three hundred years of history running through my veins, the blood of warriors, chiefs, and adventures. The past it carries me and it drives me to make a difference. I owe it to my 4X great grandparents to continue their fight and to carry out their dream of a better day.
Chief Sky Woman and Bazile rest on Madeline Island. I am lucky, I can visit the graves of my 4X great grandparents. I lay tobacco down and thank them for engraving the unwavering desire for change into our family tree. For daring those that came before me to follow their hearts and to make it in this world. My heart it always leads me to the Reservation where fry bread, coffee and stories are at the ready. I love hearing the stories of my elders, watching the ladies bead, and the sound of the drums bring me to tears.
Red Skin is a term tied to assimilation, elimination and re-organization of the American Indian. My family was doing all right until the assimilation period. Geneva Grace refused to sell her land in the name of progress. She wanted to raise her children where she was raised and to remain on her lake front property. The church they had a different idea and while she was away the scooped up my Grandfather and his siblings. The officials told Geneva that they would give her $10 and a ticket to Minneapolis if she signed over the deed. She took it and when she arrived in the city she was told ‘your children died in transport.”
Geneva never gave up hope, she didn’t believe the lies they told her. Out of survival she remarried a soldier and made do. Her daughter June was sent to Arizona, Walter to California, and Clifford to Lake City. Clifford is where my story starts, he is the reason I am on this earth. He was “adopted” by a German couple, they gave him everything and raised him as their child instead of a servant. When he was 18 his “adopted” father confessed and told him that he was bought, that he was an Indian and told him his real last name. That name was his ticket to the past, his tan skin lead him to Prairie Island. Bit by bit his story came together. He took solitude in the bottle, comfort in the bar, and became a broken Indian with a past to hard to bare.
When my Grandfather was an old man a letter came from one Geneva Cox. The letter simply said “I am your mother.” Geneva never gave up hope that her children were alive, Clifford was the only one she ever got to see again. Shortly after the reunion she died. Assimilation tore my family apart, but we refused to be beat down and the postal service brought us back together again with one letter. Geneva is and will always be apart of my families story. My Great Grandmother has been apart of me since the day I was born, Geneva is my middle name. This was my Dad’s way of honoring the past and bringing our family full circle.
Full Circle is when fate brought me to college in the north land. My last name gave me away and the director of the First Nations Studies program took me under his wing. He told me stories of the past, taught me my culture, and mostly he helped me figure out who I am. With professor Johnson’s help I claimed my heritage and came into my own as a biracial woman. I am not one color, but many colors and for that I will always be grateful. College is where I took up the fight to propel Indian Education and Cultural issues forward. I have been fighting to end the use of Native American Mascots and to end Columbus Day for a very long time. The issues at hand are near and dear to my heart.
An Eagle feather is the highest honor an Indian can receive, Professor Johnson gave me my first and since then I have been given one more. Charlie’s family gave me the second one on the day of his funeral. Charlie was honored with the Eagle Feather because he fought tooth and nail to better the lives of his people. In the eyes of his tribe he was a warrior and they honored his death by celebrating his life. Charlie was Mohican and Ojibway, he loved his heritage and the “Red Skin” name made his blood boil. He believed in a day where he would no longer be judged by the color of his skin, but by his legal wit. Tomorrow I will march in honor of my ancestors, Geneva, Clifford and for Charlie’s dream. I will carry out his dream of living in a better day where the color of ones skin no longer matters. Because I am more than White, I am more than a Red Skin, I am more than an Indian, I am more than a half breed, I am AmandaJean and I am not your mascot!
My past is lined with burned bridges and collateral damage. I am not an easy person to get to know or to even love. Damaged, yea you could say that. My life its a beautiful disaster and those closest to me end up being the ones I hurt the most.
Never in a million years did I think Gopher Guy would become my collateral damage. I have no idea what made Gopher Guy fall for me, I am far from perfect and the complete opposite of him. It became clear that he wasn’t going to see the light and that his new found love is faker than imitation perfume. Old habits die hard, he still acted like there was a chance and he made me feel like he was still interested. Our friendship was built on witty banter and flirting. Deep down I knew I couldn’t be stuck in some weird emotional love triangle and for him to be fully with her I had to let go.
I only know how to let go one way and that is by burning a bridge. He met me by the now dry government center fountains. Part of me was hoping that he wouldn’t show, but he did. In that moment I wanted him to hurt as much as he hurt me. As my words flowed into his mind, his kind eyes faded, his expression went from nice to nothing, and he was shaking. I did exactly what I set out to do and in that moment he let me go.
I’ve burned more bridges than I can count, this time it was different and instead of feeling nothing, I feel a tiny bit of regret. Yet, on the same coin I know that his feelings for me were not real. Gopher Guy never got into the deep with me and he only knows a piece of me. He met me when I was broken and saw me at my worst, but he never got to enjoy my best. He spent the past 3 years chasing me and I ran like hell. I told him I loved him, it was on April Fools day and 19 days later I said I can’t deal. His friends, they hate me because they had to deal with the aftermath of that burning.
But did they really deal? No they didn’t they just kept on checking his pulse to make sure he was alive as he drowned his sorrows in a bottle of liquor. Real friends, take the bottle out of your hand and make you face your shit. Your friends just let you hang on to that bottle and stood by and watched you fall. You cannot blame me for that night because I didn’t put the bottle in your hand, I didn’t tell you to drink your pain away. I’ve heard your recollection of April 20, 2012 more times than I can count. Did it ever cross your mind that someone did exactly that, except they got into a car, and took charlie away from me. It wasn’t you that did it, but someone just like you did. Life is hard liquor does nothing to cure the pain it only numbs it until the morning comes.
Your friends they still hate me. You had three years to clear my name and never made that attempt. You never told them that my fiance had died the day before your birthday party. That I only came because I made a promise. I am a woman of my word, even thou I was dying inside I put on a smile and tried to deal. Being in a bar that night was not the place for me and meeting your slightly intoxicated friends was a bad idea. I knew the moment they met me that they didn’t like me, I nursed a glass of water the whole night instead of throwing back beer and shots. I was physically there at your table, yet my mind was trying to remember if I grabbed everything I wanted for Charlie’s casket. Dinner was over, you went to the strippers and I went my separate way. That was the one and only time I have seen your friends. I got one shot and if I had known that they would be petty bastards, I never would have come to your party. Tell your friends to grow the fuck up and not to be so judgmental.
You failed me. As my friend it was your job to vouch for me and to defend me. You never did that. For three years you let your friends hate the ground I walk on. Hell, even today they probably still hate me. My Daddy tells me that “hate” is a disease and that only a tormented soul has room for hate. So your friends must be broken. Yup, they are broken. They hide behind their mental health, sex therapy, and who knows what else degrees they have to make themselves feel all right. I am human, I am not perfect and I cannot be fake. What you see is what you get. My opinion is never quiet. I may be small but I will use the voice God gave me and I will defend myself.
They say it takes a broken soul to know one. When I look into your eyes I see someone who has been discounted and passed up their entire life. Someone who was judged by the size of his waist line and not his wit. Girls, they never gave you a thought and you were always the friend never the leading man. When I first met you I shook your hand, you looked me up and down with a smile. I knew right then and there that you had fallen. I don’t know why but you did and I was ok with that. When I looked at you I didn’t see a large man, I saw your heart.
Gopher Guy I never paid attention to your outside, your kindness, dedication, unwavering work ethic and wit is what attracted me to you. Your heart is what won me over. You are someone I could trust, you dared to put me in my place, only to apologize minutes later for doing so. You constantly challenged me, made me laugh until I cried, kept me from face planting into mud puddles and you believed in me. For some unknown reason you believed in me with all of your heart and I didn’t know how to deal.
I thought you would always be there. It’s partly my fault I encouraged you to date and to put yourself out there. Orchestra hall, that night I felt the pull and I knew at that moment I had to go for it. Yet I didn’t. I was going to but over dinner you told me about Goodwill and preacher girl. (2 girls at once?! Whoa I created a monster!) Always know that Orchestra hall is the night I fell in love with you all over again. That was the night that sealed the deal. That was the night I realized that I still loved you.
Fate kept the manhuman in Minnesota. He was suppose to leave in July. The job it fell through and he moved in. (Bad idea I know) Someone was looking out for me as it didn’t work and I asked him to leave. I didn’t want to be that girl who leaped into another mans arms right after she left the arms of another. I had to let the socially acceptable time period expire. You, you put on the full court press the moment you found out the Manhuman was gone. You invited me to dinner more times than I can count, told me that I meant the world to you, and that I was the one you wanted. I eluded you and gave you half answers. I was afraid of letting you down and mostly I was afraid that I wouldn’t live up to the woman you saw in me. In my mind you deserved more than a broken surviving heart and I, I sold myself short. While I was waiting for the expiration date Goodwill girl stepped up her game. She grabbed you the day I was going to lay my cards down.
My steal, went down in flames. I fought hard for you and you didn’t want anything to do with me. 3.5 years of history meant nothing to you. I wasn’t shiny and new. I didn’t desperately chase you like she did. Goodwill girl loves beer, going to games and music. That is what you are building a relationship on. Take it from someone whose been divorced, that’s not enough. The shiny will fade, the beer you can only drink so much before you bank account dips, and when that runs out she will be moving on. Fairy tales tell us that you go for the one who fights for you and not the one who loses her shoe.
I fought hard for you and you didn’t care. You said things, did things, and crossed lines that should never have been crossed. You never once apologized for your actions and words. In your mind what you were doing was all right and you said a prayer to make it all better. Yet, you hurt the one girl you never thought you would hurt. I needed you to feel what I was feeling. I needed you to feel deceived, mislead, and used. Then and only then would you understand what you put me through. The difference between you and I is that I own my shit. Only apart of what I told you was true. Play you I did. The bridge I burned it and the answers are on my side of the river. You can fester and pray all you want for the answers, they won’t come to you because only I know what the two lies and one truth are.
Hurt? Yes I am and you, you are hurt too. Neither of us are clean in this. I did what I had to do to protect myself. I don’t do well with weird love triangles and attachments. The pin I pulled it and the bridge that lead me to you went down in flames. I didn’t completely close you out. It takes a beautifully broken heart to understand a fellow broken soul. I have been through more than you could ever imagine and I know that life hasn’t always been kind to you. Just know that you are worth more than you will ever begin to understand and that you, you made a difference in one small town girl’s life.
This month, we’re whipping up the most delicious beauty confections for you in your October “Beauty Candy” Glam Bag. You’ll find both beauty tricks and beauty treats all month long, with colorful and eye-catching eye-candy that you can see and sample!
Beauty Candy! Did someone say beauty candy? Beauty candy is the best kind of candy. Duh, its calorie free and it doesn’t stick to your waistline.
What did you get in your Beauty Candy Glam Bag?
City Color – Be Matte Lipstick: Its rich formula is highly pigmented and enhanced with Vitamin E to nourish your lips and provide long-lasting color.
Doll 10 Beauty – H2Glo Highlighter: eatures a lightweight cream formula that glides on easily and blends beautifully to help you achieve a truly dewy complexion.
Figs & Rouge Hand Cream in Mango Mandarin: Shea Butter Enriched Limited Edition Hand Creams are deliciously fragrant & indulgent. These delectable creams soften, nourish & thoroughly pamper hands throughout the day, quickly absorbing to provide super-soft skin.
Modelco VOLUMEYES Extreme Black Mascara: The intensely black, volumizing mascara separates, coats and curls each lash to voluptuous perfection.
Skyn Iceland Mini Glacial Cleansing Cloths: these on-the-go foaming cloths are the ultimate skin savior. Infused with Icelandic glacial waters and beneficial natural extracts, they sweep away makeup, dirt, oil and other impurities while refreshing and soothing stressed skin.
I am not to impressed with this months bag. The only products I have been using are the hand cream and the mascara. Everything else has been tossed into my giveaway box.
Do you want an Ipsy Glam Bag of your very own? Well then, for $10 a month (shipping is free) you will receive a Glam Bag filled with deluxe samples and full-sized beauty products. Members can watch and play along with the stylists with the same products that they are using. If you want a bag of your very own or more information please visit http://www.ipsy.com/r/1w1i Trust me you will be glad you did!
***I was no compensated for my post. Opinions are my own***
Forget we ever said couch potato was a dirty word. This is the best time of year to settle in for some quality viewing, reading, or listening. Whether you’re excited about blockbuster season, geeking out about fall TV premieres, or searching for a new soundtrack, everyone has a fan in them.
Hello October! Did I ever mention that I have a deep love for the month of October and fall. The air changes from warm to crisp, bright colors replace green leaves, and I grow older with each passing year. October is my birthday month and it is also my survivor anniversary month. October is about celebration, celebrating life, my friends, my family, and Halloween!
Speaking of treats BirchBox once again allowed subscribers to pick a sample. I absolutely love sample choice and I eagerly waited for the email. This month I chose the Mally High Shine Liquid Lipstick in Pedal to the Metal and everything else was left up to chance.
“Hey! What did you get in your BirchBox this month?!”
Fanfare – October 2014
dr. Brandt – Pores no more vacuum cleaner: award-winning gel that degunks pores for fewer blackheads and smooth skin.
————————–> This product is perfect for the month of October. Why, because it plays a trick on you. When you first apply the gel it goes on opaque and when it is done working it turns a bluish hue. How cool is that? A product that actually tells you that its done. I used this the first night I got my box and it left my skin feeling so soft and smooth.
Essentiel Elements – Wake Up Rosemary Shower Gel: infuses skin with nourishing honey and softening rosemary and mint oils.
————————> The body wash smells very herby and to me the scent is more suited for someone of the male variety. I will be putting this little bottle of manly smelling goodness in my gift pile.
Harvey Prince – Petaly Noir: lush floral scent that evokes a midnight stroll among blossoming orchids.
Mally – High Shine Liquid Lipstick in Pedal to the Metal: the ultra shiny formula acts as a lip gloss, lip primer, and line all in one.
———————————> This was my sample choice for the month of October. I full on thought that I would receive a sample sized liquid lipstick in my box. My oh my was I surprised when I lifted the lid to find the full-sized Mally in my box. The Mally is worth $20.00 which is double the value of my box. I am in love with the color of this lipstick. You can use a little or a lot, build up the color, and best of all its not sticky.
ModelCo – Powerlash High impact Black Mascara: with a unique brush this Australian brand’s mascara adds length and volume to every lash.
—————————-> Thanks to subscription boxes I have a never ending supply of mascara.
My October box was pretty darn good!
Birch Box is a beauty and lifestyle subscription box program that costs $10.00 per month. For every dollar you spend in the shop you can earn 1 point. 100 points will get you a free birch box or $10 towards a purchase in the shop at birchbox.com. I know you’ve got friends so why not refer those friends to Birch box and earn a few points for doing so. If you would like to learn more and get a Birch Box of your very own go to http://www.birchbox.com for more information.
***I was not compensated for this post. Opinions are my own***
Top right photo was taken one month after my PE and Stroke
I honestly cannot believe that it’s been five years. It seems just like yesterday when I set out to work oblivious to what this day would hold. I still remember what I wore and that I was upset because I forgot to buy creamer the night before. It was a free jeans day and I wore a gray cardigan with a white eyelet button down peasant style top and jeans paired with cranberry colored flats. It was also day #4 at my brand new job. I was busy learning the ins and outs of replevin work and didn’t have the time for inconveniences.
On Tuesday night I felt this excruciating pain rush through my body. I barely made it through the evening rush hour drive. I came home put my purse down, took some Tylenol and crawled into bed. Wednesday morning I was right as rain and went on about my day. On October 22, 2009 I woke up with a mild nagging pain in my chest. I didn’t think anything of it, figured I was coming down with a cold and brushed it off.
My body was screaming for help and I, I just ignored the signs. I had reached the Sun Ray shopping center, the pain was getting a little worse, still I brushed it off. A few miles down the road that nagging pain turned into what felt like a thousand knives cutting me at once. Breathing was proving to be difficult and my arm was going numb. I’d try to breathe deep, my lungs they fought back and I had to make the decision call mom, no not an option she will panic. Pull over, no you are afraid to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway, take the exit.
The exit, I took it. To this day I have no idea how I made it to Woodwinds Health Campus in Woodbury MN. The only thing I remember is throwing the Prius into park and collapsing into the security guards arms. Some how by the grace of God I made it to safety. When I came to the ER staff ruled out a heart attack and a panic attack, labs were ordered and I apologized for taking up their time. The doctor thought I had an infection in my lungs and ordered an x-ray and labs. As he left the room he turned on his heel and asked “by chance are you on a birth control?” I quickly said yes and he explained what the d-dimer test.
The d-dimer was ordered, my oxygen level was less than 50%, my heart was in sinus tachycardia and my blood pressure continued to climb. I, I was in rough shape. While on my way to x-ray the doctor shouted “where are you going with her? I canceled the x-ray.” I was feeling relieved and waited for him to tell me I had an infect and he was going to send me home. I didn’t get the news I wanted. With caring eyes he told me “the d-dimer came back glaringly positive we need to get you to CT ASAP. He quickly explained that the contrast die could prove deadly but the benefits out weighed the risk. I signed my name and into the scanner I went. They said it would take about 90 minutes for my results to come back.
I watched the clock and counted down the minutes. I could hear the phone ring, the doctor picked it up and said “shit! You have to be kidding, you are not!” Code blue was sounded and I heard a rush of feet come towards me. Within seconds every available hand was in he ER. He took my hand and said, “I am sorry AmandaJean you have a blood clot in your left lung that is blocking the main valve to your heart and your lung sacs have ruptured. Your body is not getting the oxygen it needs and you dear are going to be staying with us for a while.” My brain couldn’t comprehend how dire the situation was. My blood pressure went above 210, I told the nurse I felt woozy, one said it was just the pain meds, another looked at the monitors and said “the fuck it is, she is having a stroke,” he hit the panic button.
Clot busters were shot into my chest, thrombolytics and other medications were being pumped into both arms. I was alone, alone and fighting for my life. The ER doctor walked next to my bed as they were bringing me to the elevator bay. We stopped, he said AmandaJean do you know what’s down that hall? No I said. The morgue, I should be putting you on a slab instead of in a hospital bed. If you had been five minutes later your story would have been different, never ever forget that.
It took a few days for the gravity of what I had survived to sink in. Friends came and visited me, my parents and than husband stood by my side. My life became a series of injections, INR checks, scans, nerotherapy sessions and doctor visits. I was alive and that is what mattered. Almost dying 5 days before your birthday steals your innocence and changes your perspective on life.
I didn’t just survived, I thrived. The ultimate gift was given to me, not many people get a second go around. I treasure every moment of every day, because I know that if I were five minutes late my story would have ended with my ashes in an urn. Survivors rarely talk about the guilt that they feel. I walk this earth with a scarlet letter glued to my head and people tell me that I shouldn’t have a bad day, because I survived the worst day possible.
Yet in the quiet moments I feel guilty that I survived. In the past five years I have said goodbye to more friends than one soul can handle. I survived only to watch my son slip away, I took a seat at Adam’s funeral, wrote a eulogy for Connor, only to follow-up a few years later with a eulogy for Charlie, said a tearful thank you to Dr. Delahaunty, and held my friend Jilliann’s hand as we said goodbye to Trinity. I have been surrounded by so much death and heart ache. I can’t make heads or tails out of who lives and who dies, God definitely has the upper hand on that one.
Hands I’ve got two and my knees are worn from praying. My scars are healed, my body is somewhat back to normal, yet my emotional scars remain. Emotional wounds are he hardest wounds to heal. They slowly disappear with time. Anger was replaced with hope and that hope gave me the strength to make a difference. The guilt it is a reminder that four people had to die so I could be the one out of five who survived. I live each day of this crazy life for them, its the only thing I can do to honor those who went to soon. I vowed to spend my days advocating for those who no longer can and that they would be more than their deaths. Their stories deserve to be told. In one sheer moment of disaster I found my passion. I found that I had a voice and that I had the strength to stand up for myself. I signed my name on the dotted line and became a plaintiff in a product liability lawsuit against Merck.
The Nuva Ring took a lot of things away from me and on the same coin it gave me a life that even I couldn’t have imagine for myself. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there and share the most vulnerable moments of your life. Sharing my journey allows me to educate the public about the dangerous side affects of hormonal contraceptive. Sharing my story has allowed me to shape the view points of politicians and to propel heart healthy policies forward. I owe a lot to the American Heart Association, they took me under their wings and gave me a platform. That platform has allowed me to grow and come into my own as a survivor. I am not ashamed to say I had a Pulmonary Embolism and Stroke, I am more than those events, I am more than a survivor, I am and will always be a small town girl who set out to change the world.
The past five years have been a beautiful disaster and I am proud to claim it as my own. Because of quick action and research my life was saved. Every day the American Heart Association gives funds and encourages researches to tread unknown waters. Without the AHA we would not have CPR or advances in heart surgery, early stroke and heart attack detection. Research is why. Advocacy is why. Life is why. Second Chance is why. Without the AHA there would be no why in this world and we would have no hope for a heart healthy tomorrow.
I am incredibly thankful to my Woodwind’s care team, without them I never would have gotten to experience pregnancy followed by loss, then divorce, a little adventure followed by a whole lot of love and mostly without them I never would have gotten the chance to hold my niece. Without them my story would have ended at 26. Instead I got five beautiful borrowed years on this earth and I plan on borrowing a few more. Because life, its only just begun.
“People build up walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down. “
Relationships, are my down fall and I always go for the man I can’t have, not the one I can’t live without. I am always the chaser never the chased. I try to force something to exist when in my heart I know there is nothing to lay a foundation on. I go for the guy who keeps his online profile alive, the one who never calls, texts, or surprises me. If they are lazy and emotionally unavailable, then heck I want em. Sign me up for that shit and let the chase begin.
I chased my ex-husband and it sort of worked. I got the ring, had the best wedding ever, and spent my evenings wondering where the fuck he was or more so who he was with. I had to chase my own husband, he never text me first or called to see how my day was. I would mention this and he would run out to buy me flowers or take me to dinner. Jewelry and shopping trips, now they were his fail safe. Those were just items they didn’t quiet the voice in my head that always wondered who is he texting at 2 am, what’s in his email, and oh god where did he go last night. I made excuses for his cheating, I would say to myself “If you drop 10 pounds or if you did xyz like the other girls he would stop.” I blamed myself and cried alone in my king sized bed.
For those on the outside my departure was sudden and without reason. But if you paid close attention and noticed the stream of girls coming into my drive way, well then you knew why I left. I left with what little dignity I had and I vowed to never chase. That was short lived. A challenge is what I need. If you are a challenge then I want you, if I have to chase you to the moon and back I am so in.
Charlie, now that is a man that I didn’t have to chase. He was the curve to my ball and I had to find a whole gosh darn new field. He looked beyond the scars, and took the walls down brick by brick. He understood where I had come from and that I was still a work in progress. Charlie spent a lot of time on the east coast and in Iowa for work, he told me one night that he had a girl in NYC. I was mad as hell, play me he did. I couldn’t believe it, I got duped into falling for an unavailable man. I stuck him in the friend zone and went on about my day.
Fate landed me a contract assignment as a case assistant on a little oil spill in the gulf. Late nights and never ending weekends turned contractors into friends. After all no one on the outside understood what we were going through and how tedious the work was. Gopher Guy and I bonded over trip tickets and witty banter. He knew that I was sort of dating someone and he would always tell me “well that’s only temporary.” Charlie joked that Gopher Guy was my work husband and that he needed to step up his game to prevent me from being wooed away. Charlie stepped up all right, NYC girl was a thing of the past and I was settling in nicely to my life at the Ivy.
If Gopher Guy only knew what the future held, he would take back every “its only temporary.” He was sadly correct. Charlie would become the fifth car in a multi vehicle crash on February 14, 2012, he died two days latter from his injuries. I was crushed, I didn’t know which way was up and life, it just wasn’t the same. Gopher Guy came running to my side, he just sat next to me as I starred into space trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t say a word and that meant the world to me. Everyone else was telling me “it will be ok, you will get through this. or we are so sorry for your loss.” I didn’t need words, I needed silence, and he gave that to me.
Gopher Guy messaged me every day to make sure I was still standing and he made sure I got out. Subtle hints were dropped and I picked them up. On April Fool’s day he asked me if I would date him, I selfishly said yes. I was afraid of being alone and needed the distraction. This was incredibly wrong of me to do. How could I commit to someone when I was in love with a ghost. I would fall a sleep at night with Charlie in my dreams only to be awaken by the cold wet nose of a muppet like dog. I felt guilty, like I was cheating on him. Gopher Guy put on the full court press and I couldn’t deal. I called it, I asked for my space and to not contact me.
We went months without saying a word. It killed me inside to lose such an incredible friend and I sent a message out of the blue. He responded with “oh thank god!” From that point on Gopher Guy has spent that past 3.5 years chasing me. I was to afraid to go for the safety of his arms, I went after the emotionally unavailable. None of my relationships worked and never once did I utter I love you. Instead I found myself rushing home to tell Gopher Guy about my dates and about my life. He would always always throw insinuating text messages into the mix. Gopher Guy would tell me “you are the most amazing girl, you are worth waiting for.”
I never asked Gopher Guy to wait, he just did it. On my worst days my head had a way of finding his shoulder. He has seen my full on ugly cry, consoled me when my relationships went south, and mostly he gives me the best heart felt advice. It didn’t matter how unavailable I was, he always tried to steal me away. Earlier this summer it dawned on me “your relationships never work out because you have mad feelings for Gopher Guy.” Word, subconscious self and duly noted. Hot damn! My subconscious was fucking right, yup now I just had to get over the fear.
I found myself single at the end of August and Gopher Guy was somewhat single. For some reason his game stepped up and I passively passed it on. Until I finally found the strength to say “yes.” No this isn’t a magical OMG she got the guy who waited for her story. Shit Facebook told me he was in a relationship with a girl. It was kind of a shock because he had just asked me out to dinner. Apparently he had no idea his relationship was that serious. I plotted my course, laid my cards on the table and attempted a steal. My steal, yea that didn’t go down well.
All of my secrets are showing. We had a really good early morning ugly cry and he let me know that he has never stopped loving me, even now he still does. Yet he listened to the peanuts, pushed our history to the sidelines, and went for her and not me. He chose her over me. Gopher Guy thought our ship had sailed and that he would never have a shot with me. Shots? I’ve had plenty of shots to grab him. I didn’t because I only know how to function as a chaser and with him there was no challenge, only sweet sweet safety.
Every girl dreams for a man that will love her with every inch of his soul and I, I let mine down. I’ve learned you do not look for the one who compliments you, you, you look for the one that completes you. The one that will bring you new experiences, the one you can teach, the one who will listen without question, the one who dares you to swim with the sharks, and withholds judgment as you plot a crazy course. You, you go for the one person who dares to wait for you.
The American Heart Association unveiled there new campaign earlier in the summer. The campaign is simple yet powerful. “Tell us your why.” Today I attended the American Heart Association’s “You’re The Cure Advocacy Summit” and one of the activities was to tell our “why.” We were given t-shirts and markers to write our why. I had so many reasons for my why yet only one would fit on the t-shirt.
2nd Chance is why.
On October 22, 2009 I got an early birthday present. It did not come in a box wrapped in pretty paper with a bow. It came on the heals of disaster, my future it looked bleak, but in one sheer moment I realized that I was still here. I was alive, thou in extreme pain and a little worse for wear, I was a live. I got LIFE for my 27th birthday. That is the greatest gift anyone could ever receive. A second chance to take on the world, to love, to laugh, to explore, but mostly a second chance to live life the way it is meant to be lived. I have been living on borrowed time, the good Lord above has given me five beautiful years and I plan on borrowing a few more. I am not done living. My life, it has only just begun.
Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography
Sophia is why.
So many young women have died from pulmonary embolisms, strokes, and heart disease. Those women were robbed of becoming Aunts and Mothers. I got a second chance and in that chance I was able to hold my buddy in my arms. Nothing brings me more joy than being an aunt. I love this little girl with all of my surviving heart and I will continue to fight for her healthy tomorrow.
My Father is why.
12 years ago my father was only 50 years old when he was rushed to Saint Mary’s Hospital in Rochester Minnesota. He was dying, his heart was in Ventricular Fibrillation and Congestive Heart Failure. It didn’t look good and he was fighting for what little life he had left. Death, it was the only possibility. Yet with the expertise of the Mayo doctor’s he walked out of that hospital two weeks later. Yes, he walked out under his own power two weeks later. My father got a second chance at life. In the past 12 years he got a chance to see me graduate from college, a chance to walk me down the isle, and a chance to be the rock I needed when I was recovering from my PE and stroke. But mostly he will get to stand by my side as our plane touches down in Cambodia and watch me meet my child for the very first time.
Emma is why.
Emma Beaulieu was the first infant in Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. She was three months old when she got her new heart and sadly she passed away three years later due to complications of the common cold. Emma is why my family has been involved with the American Heart Association. Because someone dared to make a difference, she was given three years to live. Some may say that was a waste. I beg to differ, because of what they learned from Emma, thousands of children have been saved. Congenital Heart defects are no longer death sentences, they are mere stumbling blocks, and survival rates continue to sky rock it. All because of one little girl who went first.
Bazile is why.
My extremely great grand father Bazile Hudon Beaulieu was a voyager who sailed across the Atlantic, through the great lakes, and landed on the shores of Minnesota. He founded this great state that I call home. Its only fitting to name my future child after him. In her own right she is like a little voyager, crossing the globe to find her home in my arms. Bazile is out there and I cannot wait until the day I get on that plane and bring her home. Bazile is my why, I want her to grow up in a healthy world free of heart disease and stroke. Mostly I want her to grow up in a world where women are no longer being harmed by their hormonal contraceptives. I will be damned if Bazile ever has to endure my fate. Bazile is getting one hell of a fighter to call Mom. I will fight for her until my last breath.
TOMORROW is why.
I want to have a billion more tomorrows. A billion chances at seeing the sunrise and set. I want a billion nights under star filled skies and a billion bon fires by the shore. I want a tomorrow. I want to get married again. I want to build a tiny home (I am obsessed with them), have a family, travel the world, and mostly I want to secure a healthy tomorrow for all of us. That is my wish that every single one of us will have a billion tomorrows. Life is so uncertain and your tomorrows can be ripped from you in a blink of an eye. I am going to focus on living in the moment and not waste a precious drop of sweet sweet time.
I grew up in a home where my parents encouraged exploration and creativity. We had buckets of crayons, rolls of paper, paints, and anything a little girl could dream of to create art. My Dad was known to bring home odds and ends. He has a collection of old doors, windows, pieces of floors and random boards that he will one day use. He is pretty crafty and my Dad is always willing to help me with my projects. Big or small he is there taking it over and telling me to get out-of-the-way.
I inherited my Dad’s ability to see a diamond in the rough and the ability to turn someone’s trash into a treasure. The last weekend of every month is a wonderful time to live in Uptown. Hipsters move out and in the alley they leave their “trash” behind. I have been known to haul home all sorts of things. People in my neighborhood are used to it and they offer a hand when I want something that’s to heavy to carry. I’ve been know to trudge through garage sales and thrift stores looking for unique finds. In addition to dragging things home, I also rehab items that I all ready own. A fresh coat of paint can go a long long way.
My Ex-husband got the house and all of the furnishings in our divorce and I was left with basically nothing. I had to start from scratch. At the time I bought what I could afford and a few classic pieces. Over the years I have switched a lot of things out and repainted items that I loved. Take my bed, I paid $89 for the frame at IKEA and I love the design of it, just not the color. White was the only color choice and I lived with a white bed in a white room for 4 years. It became mundane and I knew I wanted to keep the bed, I just didn’t want the white staying.
The white had over stayed its welcome and I was ready for a change. I knew I wanted to paint the bed a shade of blue, I just didn’t know which one. To be honest there are way to many choices in the spray paint isle. Seaside blue spoke to me and I walked out with four cans. The manhuman graciously helped me out with my project and it took us about an hour to paint the bed. My bed is now the focal point of my bedroom and I wake up every morning with a smile on my face. Life is best lived in color.
My Bed is not the only thing that got a shade of color this summer. I bought a bird-cage candle holder thing at a thrift store last spring and of course it was white. I felt that the white was just to darn lame and I wanted to brighten it up. Mostly I had been scouring different shops looking for a unique side table that would compliment the lines of the cage, I came up empty-handed. That is until one day I was out walking the muppet like dog and there was the perfect table just sitting on the curb. I drug home that scratched up wobbly legged side table. Sure she was rough-looking, however I loved the lines and it was exactly what I had been looking for. It was the right sized and with help from my Dad we tightened the legs right up. I Chose golden squash for the bird-cage candle holder and cornflower blue for the table.
Speaking of my living room I have been on the search for the perfect coffee table for months and wouldn’t you know the perfect one was right behind my building. I came home on a rainy afternoon to find a scratched up coffee table with its glass intact propped next to the dumpster. The coffee table was to heavy for me to lift, so I ran through the building got the Prius and loaded it up. The coffee table was dark brown and that did not go with my decor, a little spray paint would make it fit right in. I decided to paint it the same color as the bird-cage candle holder. This way it would tie into the existing design of my living room. My Dad took over the painting, he always does. My mom and I came back from the beach to find the table half painted. Five cans of paint later and I had the perfect rehabbed coffee table for my living room.
Girl Meets Spray Paint is exactly what happened this summer. Why throw something out if you can simply grab a $4 can of spray paint and make it new again. We have become a throw away society, no one is resourceful anymore. If it’s scratched, dinged or if we do not like it, we throw it to the curb. One woman’s cast off will always be another woman’s treasure. Take a few moments, look around you and find that diamond in the rough that is waiting for you to make it shine. Trust me they are out there and it is extremely worth it. My shabby chic DIY furniture makes my apartment a home.
That is until one day I was out walking the muppet like dog and there was the perfect table just sitting on the curb. I drug home that scratched up wobbly legged side table. Sure she was rough-looking, however I loved the lines and it was exactly what I had been looking for. It was the right sized and with help from my Dad we tightened the legs right up. I Chose golden squash for the bird-cage candle holder and cornflower blue for the table.
Have Bear Will Travel 