{PERSPECTIVE} 10 Years of Have Bear Will Travel

Posted on August 15, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

Ten years ago today I boarded a plane with 67 strangers bound for Glasgow Scotland. The only thing I knew was “I’m going to Scotland and will live in a palace.” Everything else was left up to fate. That trip lead me to start havebearwilltravel.com. It was my attempt to stay connected to friends and family back home. I wanted a place where I could share my adventures in real-time. Scotland was only the beginning, it was my starting point to an amazing adventure.

I got to travel Europe, attend the Edinburgh Tattoo, saw the Queen at the Highland games, and there is nothing like spotting a hairy coo in your front yard. I went looking for Nessie, but came up empty-handed, pub crawls, yea I’ve gotta few under my belt, art was a plenty, ghosts were all around, the underground can’t be beat, Rosslyn Chapel is way prettier in person, and if you listen you just might hear the footsteps of giants. I was an intern with the New Scottish Parliament, they thought it would be highly entertaining for me to give tours of the building to school children and tack stacks of papers.

Scotland truly was one hell of an adventure and I now have a place to call “Home” in the Midlothians. Once I returned home I continued to blog about my adventures and encouraged others to step out side of their comfort zones. Funny thing, little did I know that this blog would see me through thick and thin. It has been my outlet to the world, a place for me to gain perspective, encourage others, and a place for me to write my story.

Looking back I did a lot of incredibly amazing shit, so amazing that I have to stop and think “yea you actually did that!” Ten years ago I had no idea where life would take me or what the future would hold. I am a firm believer that everything should be left up to fate. Fate will never fail us and as long as we believe, she will come through. I’ve been married, became a step mom, had a pulmonary embolism and a stroke, became a mama, got a divorce, quit my job, found my voice, fell in love, said good-bye, and hello.

I am literally in awe of my life. I have walked the beaches of Sardinia, stood on Mount Tibidabo, sailed the canals of Venice, climbed the pyramids of Egypt, zip corded through the jungles of Belize, set sail on the high seas, collected sea shells in Mexico, panned for gold in Alaska, and shopped in Morocco. I have stood on three of the seven continents and hopefully will see the remaining four before I die. My soul needs to travel this world and as long as I am able I will always choose GO.

Go? Alfred who is now a very ratty teddy bear still goes wherever I go. He is after all the “bear” in Have Bear Will Travel. That ratty old teddy bear has seen me through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the down right hilarious moments of my life. We never grow up, we just tuck our teddy into our suit cases and no one is none the wiser. I will carry that ratty teddy bear with me until the day I die.

If I could go back 10 years I will tell my 21-year-old self to enjoy the journey and to live in the moment. Moments make us who we are, without them we are books with blank pages. I would tell her to hold on tight because you are going to have more potholes than smooth pavement. That life can be cruel and unfair. That she will endure heartache, turmoil, and fight for her life, only to say goodbye to a son who never walked the earth. Mostly I would tell her” “You are stronger than you could ever imagine and to not worry about law school, you will change the world without a law degree.”

{playbuzz.com} What Is Your Native American Name?

Posted on July 1, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

After a long day at work and a heated online argument over today’s Supreme Court ruling, I got off the bus a little irritated and wanted nothing more than to relax with my dog. I quickly popped onto Facebook to see what was up, only to find myself angered. Someone actually created an online quiz/game called “What Is Your Native American Name?” The quiz can be found on http://www.playbuzz.com and was posted by Katelyn Whitebloom on June 26th, to date the quiz has received half a million Facebook shares and 1,200 tweets. That is a lot of people viewing and completing the highly offensive quiz.

According to buzzplay.com it is an open network for end users, publishers, bloggers and brands to create and share playful content items such as quizzes, lists and polls. I highly doubt they have someone on their team reviewing said quizzes for cultural insensitivity nor do I think people would be down with a quiz titled “What is your white man/Jewish/Muslim ect. name?” We as a society have decided that the fore mentioned would be offensive to others, yet when it comes to Indian people, they are fair game. This is also probably why people don’t think twice when dressing up as an Indian for Halloween and sporting events. Someone once told me that by dressing up in Indian costumes they were honoring Indian culture. Truth you are not honoring anything, in reality you are wedging the tomahawk a little further into our backs.

Native American names are sacred and are handed down during a Naming Ceremony. The Naming Ceremony remembers the Original Man’s sacrifice for naming everything. It requires a father and mother to ask a medicine person to seek a name for their child. The medicine person does the seeking by fasting, meditation, prayer, or dreaming and the spirit gives the name. The medicine person burns an offering of tobacco and pronounces the name to the 4 directions. The people at the ceremony repeat the name when it is called out by the medicine person. After the name is announced the spirit world can then accept the name and recognize the child as a living thing for the first time. The Spirit World and ancestors guard the child and prepare a place in the spirit world for when the end of their life comes. Each and every Tribe has the same practice with variations suited to their creation story and belief system.

I admit I took the quiz mostly because I wanted to see what it was all about. The imagery of cartoon Indians is completely offensive. The questions that are asked make no real reference to Native American culture and spiritual beliefs. Last time I look at my Father he did not have a football shaped head with a single feather sticking out of the top. Its like the creator of the quiz tried to make the cartoons ok by sticking a somewhat acceptable portrait of Native Americans under the cartoons.

The cartoons were just the tip of the iceberg, the quiz got worse and more degrading as it went on. As in they ask you “When you spot a fight happening, you are the one to:” Really, really you need to ask that kind of question in a game? Millions of Native Americans lost their lives in the name of freedom. They were scalped, raped, and murdered all in the name of westward progress. Children were taken from the reservations only to be beaten to death in a boarding school because they refused to speak English or to get their haircut short. My Great Great Great Great Grandmother was a female war chief and she did NOT back down from conflict. She led her people into the fray and fought like hell to stay alive. I just like her do not back down from a fight and I will stand my ground in the name of freedom.

The image for question #3 left me scratching my head. This quiz is about Native American names, yet we see a group of white people sitting at a table working on a project. Why not use a picture of a chief sitting across from a BIA agent hammering out a treaty? By using this image they are suggesting that Native people are not capable of working in a group. Trust me we are, hence we created AIM, Idle No More, and the NIEA and the NIGA. We created those groups and they are run by Native American people.

Out of the entire quiz question #4 is what stuck me as deeply offensive. One of the options to choose from was “Conformity.” Conformity is not a value it is not even a choice when it comes to the American Indian. They were forced to conform and assimilate to the white Christian ways. They had no choice in the matter and it is definitely not a value they attribute to base there lives upon. My Great Grandmother Geneva refused to conform, she refused to give up her land, her life, and in the end she lost her children. Her children were pawns in the name of progress. Indian country is littered with tear filled eyes of elders who were forced to conform to the white ways. They were forced to believe in a God that didn’t believe in them, they gave up their language, the lives, their culture, all in the name of conformity.

Maybe my Grandfather Clifford would have never sought comfort in a bottle if he wasn’t ripped from the life he knew. Maybe his story would have been different if he was allowed to grow up on the reservation instead of a farm in Wabasha county. My Grandfather is just another casualty, thrown by the wayside of progress. They say the red road is lined with whiskey bottles and tears. That those who tread upon it understand the pain of their ancestors and they use that pain to fight for a better day.

My sister and I do not have Native American Names, we were instead baptized into the Christian faith. However our parents raised us as biracial children. I am proud to say that I am a German Irish Ojibway Indian. I recognize that my ancestors suffered and endured so that I could be free today. All because of their turmoil my Grandfather was free to marry a white woman that bore his 13 children. My family is diverse, but one thing remains the same Indian blood still runs through our veins. We answer to a higher calling, have a deeper understanding of the spiritual realm, and mostly we live our lives with meaning. Each generation will learn about Chief Sky Woman, a voyager named Basil, Geneva and our grandfather. There names will never die as long as we keep on sharing their stories.

Someone told me today that the minim wage worker is the new 2nd class citizen, your are wrong my friend, the American Indian is and will always be a 2nd class citizen in this country. This will ring true until someone stands up and pushes for reform. I maybe white on the outside, but deep down my soul is 100% red. I believe that the 7th generation can create change, that we can tip the status quo, and eliminate cultural/spiritual ignorance in our society.

It starts with you my friend. Before you click the link and play stop and think about how insensitive it truly is. Do not take away the sacred meaning of an Indian name, you do not see Native people making fun of your Baptism name or ceremony. So why would you make fun of our religious ceremony.

{Divorced Life} I Always Thought I would Remarry First

Posted on June 17, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

The end of a marriage is like a death, you mourn what was and try to quiet the memories. Its hard to believe that June 27th, 2014 will mark four years since I walked out of the red house on the quiet Woodbury cul-de-sac and never looked back. You just put your big kid pants on and walk boldly into the unknown. Each half has a chance to make a new start, to rebuild their life, and mostly a chance to find the correct better half.

My ex-husband jumped into a relationship the week after I left, he had her knocked up and moved in by September. Classy I know, yet I knew he would do it, the man is afraid to be alone with his on thoughts. So it was only fitting that he found someone to fill the quiet space that I left behind. Scott needed to drain the sea of regret, to plug the wholes of what if, and mainly he needed someone to warm his bed at night. Scott and his girlfriend have been together for almost four years and are now ready to say “I do.”

Scott sent me an out of the blue text asking questions about our divorce and said that he needed the information to fill out his marriage certificate. Those words stung a little. Hell since I was the better half, I always thought I would remarry first. I came close but unfortunately a drunk driver intervened and took that equation off the table. As I stared at that text for a few minutes, it took everything in me to not tell his girlfriend to run. A leopard doesn’t change his spots. Then I realized its not my place and I went on about my evening.

Its not my place to say anything because I left him in the past and have never looked back. Scott was one big giant life lesson, I gave up law school for him, and in the end I wound up with a pile of broken dreams. He told me once “when one dream ends, you make a new one.” He was right, when my marriage ended I set out to take on the world, but first I needed to find myself. I needed to look into the mirror and figure out who the fuck AmandaJean was. I knew two things: that 1. I was a survivor and 2. a mother to a baby in heaven. Those are two things Scott could not take away from me. I set out to live a life that Lucia would be proud of and one meaningful enough to prove that I was worthy to survive a pulmonary embolism.

Scott never made me feel like I was a priority in his life, I was always last on his list and never first. He never stood beside me and only criticized my every move. In Scott’s mind I was never pretty enough or thin enough, or good enough for him. The thoughts in his head caused him to stray, I figured it out when the seat was moved in my Prius, he told me he needed it and that if I didn’t let him continue, then I didn’t love him. So I turned a blind eye and rang up the Discover card, I buried my emotions for the sake of my marriage. On nights where I couldn’t take the whores, I spoke up, only to have my words thrown on the floor. The man never understood that normal husbands do not look for “friends” on craigslist, they come home to their wives, and love them for who they are.

That normal husbands answer the phone at 8AM when it shows up as “Woodwinds Hospital,” they don’t roll over and go back to sleep. The poor receptionist kept on calling him and he just let it go to voicemail. I faced death alone and when it was convenient to him he finally picked up the phone. He actually had the audacity to ask “do you really need me to come to the ER? I have to go to work.” A woman who is literally dying should not have to beg her husband to rush to her side. He came, and he was shocked at what he saw. He truly didn’t care about me, he kept on muttering about how big the bill was going to be. Yup, you got it he cared more about money than my survival. That was only the tip of the iceberg.

As you can tell I survived. Scott probably does not tell people “I have 3 kids, one died and two are alive.” In my eyes he has not earned the right to claim our son. The morning I found out Lucia was gone, I called him and begged him to come home from Vegas. Most men would have gotten on the next flight and rushed home to their mourning wife. He chose to stay in Vegas and partied the day away. I was alone when I got the news and thankfully my BFF Sherri refused to let me be alone on surgery day. Scott missed it all and came home to find me sleeping, he had no idea the hell I went through. He acted like nothing really happened and again he worried about the bill. Scott does not deserve to be Lucia’s father, because a father never turns their back on their child, no matter if they are dead or alive.

Scott and I were a beautiful disaster. Our lives were meant to collide, because without him, without the heart ache and pain I would not be the woman I am today. I will admit, it took a lot of therapy to get the man out of my head, his words cut like a knife and the wounds they bled for a while. Until one day I faced the sun and realized that I had something to offer this world. I found my space, got my head right and took on the day. The last thing Scott gave to me was a bracelet with little hearts on it, I wear it each day. Not for memory sake, but as a reminder to never give up my dreams for a man. I did that once and in the end I got a bowl full of broken.

I just hope that Scott learned something from our five year relationship and that his craigslist shoes are in the trash. Otherwise his marriage is not going to work. I want to believe that every now and then he thinks about Lucia and feels regret for putting Vegas before me. Yet, on the same coin, I know that in his mind I did everything wrong and that he is innocent. Because I am the one who walked out, in truth I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of calling it quits. That is why I said it first and walked out the door and never regretted every step that followed.

The last words Scott said to me were “You will never make it on your own!” Fuck you, I fucking did it! And I did it without you! That’s the best revenge a girl could ever dish out, is to prove that she doesn’t need a man to make it in this world. I love my post divorced life, I have a career that fulfills me, a dog that makes me laugh, friends that keep me humble, and love?, I’ve got that too! But, mostly I didn’t have to face a health crisis alone this time and no one uttered “I wonder how big the bill is going to be.” Because I am the one in control and I learned that your health is more important than money. Without your health money is worthless.

If you do not have your health you cannot fall in love with someone or adopt a child. Unlike you I had to fall in love with myself before I could love someone else. I have been in an off and on relationship with myself for four years and it has been nothing but bliss. Your words no longer seep into my mind on quiet nights and I no longer shudder at the image in the mirror. I truly love the woman looking back at me and she is one incredibly beautiful lady. I may not be a model, but survival sure does looks good on me. You told me once that I would never find someone else, again you were wrong sir. When it comes to me, you will always be wrong.

{MN Heart Walk 2014} Why Will YOU Walk?

Posted on May 29, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

This Saturday thousands will descend on Target Filed, not for a Twins Game, but to walk for a purpose. To walk in memory of a loved one, in honor of a survivor, for themselves, and to show their support for others. They will walk on behalf of the American Heart Association to raise awareness and funds to stop the number one killer of all Americans. Minnesota is home to the largest Heart Walk in the country and words cannot describe how moving it is to see thousands of people walking for a better day. The MN Heart Walk means I get to put on my survivor shoes and walk for those who have touched my life.

I walk for Emma, she was the first infant in the state of Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. Sadly she died 3 years later due to complications of the common cold. Thou her life was short, she made a huge impact on pediatric cardiology. What they learned in those three short years is helping save thousands of babies each and every day. Emma may be gone from this world, but she will never be forgotten. Since her passing Minnesota has become a leader in pediatric cardiology and we have a tiny little girl to thank for that. I walk because Emma never got to grow up, she never got to graduate from high school, go to college, travel the world, and because her sister Chloe got cheated out of having a best friend.

My Father Greg is my best friend, psychologist, sounding board, and my compass. No matter where I go in this world I always manage to find my way back home. I walk because God gave my father a second chance. Twelve years ago I was a freshman in college when I got the call that he was fighting for his life. His body was weak, his heart was sick, yet there was a small ray of hope. Knowing that he was at the Mayo brought us hope, they did not give up and they put this broken man back together again. They fixed his heart and 10 years later he got to say hello to his first granddaughter. Research saved his life and it will continue to save the lives of others. Without research we have no hope.

Hope is what keeps me a float on bad days. October 22, 2009 was one of the worst days of my life. It was the day I became the very survivor I was advocating for. It’s still hard for me to believe that my hormonal contraceptive device almost took my life. I drove myself to the ER with sever chest pain, shortness of breath, and a whole other mess of complications. They quickly ruled out a heart attack, yet they knew something was terribly wrong. The ER Doctor explained it was most likely an infection in my lungs and that I would be out of there in no time. For some reason unbeknownst to me he stopped in the doorway turned around and asked me “by chance are you on a birth control?” I quickly replied yes and he asked the nurse to order a d-dime test. I was being wheeled to x-ray when he stopped the nurse and told her to bring me back. I will never forget the look on his face and the fear in his eyes as he explained that the d-dime test came back positive. I got a CT-Scan and within 30 minutes a code blue was issued.

_MG_2225 I was in serious trouble, a blood clot in my left lung was blocking the main valve to my heart. I was in sinus tachycardia, my oxygen level was falling and my blood pressure was rising. In laymen’s terms “I was fading fast.” Clot busters were administered and my stroke was stopped in its tracks. The highest dose of Heparin was administered and I would be staying a while. The ER Dr. walked with us as they rolled me to the elevator bay. He took one look at me and said “remember for as long as you live, that you should be going down there, that’s the morgue and not upstairs. Very very few people survive this. Remember that!” I walk because I got to blow the candles out on my 27th Halloween themed birthday cake.

Research has allowed me to live a vibrant life and it has given me five borrowed years on this earth. In those five years I said goodbye to my son, stepped out of a loveless marriage, moved to uptown, adopted a muppet like dog, fell in love, became an aunt, found a job that I love, but mostly I shared my story and found myself. None of the fore mentioned would have been possible if it were not for the life saving research that is funded by the American Heart Association. I walk because their research saved me.

{Survival} Cancer Will Fear The Day It Whispered My Name

Posted on April 29, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

Stop and Enjoy the view, because you may never come this way again.

Sometimes you wake up one morning and you find yourself unable to bend your leg. You try to work through the pain and then the pain is gone and you are left with numbness. With the numbness setting in you decide its time to call the doctor. You go into that appointment and they say “its most likely a torn meniscus, you need an MRI.” That MRI leads you to an orthopedic surgeon who is more concerned with a blood clot than your actual symptoms. You get pissed and ask for a second opinion.

The second doctor listens to you, checks you over, and starts talking about multiple sclerosis. Which doesn’t sink in until he utters “MS.” He sends you to a physical medicine doctor who proclaims “I know nothing about multiple sclerosis, my specialty is spines.” Fuck Me, why the hell am I here. You call the orthopedic doctor back and demand a neurologist. You see that neurologist and he orders an MRI of your brain, neck, and spine. Yay you spend 2.5 hours inside a tube while looking like an astronaut.

You go to work and as soon as you get there the neurologist calls and tells you “the MRI came back a little iffy on your neck, we want to do a more detailed MRI on the soft tissue in your neck.” Shit, fuck me, back into the tube you go for another 90 minutes. This time you don’t look like an astronaut and you head to Target afterwards. Ah, Target, Target can solve all of life’s problems. Before you know it your follow-up appointment with the neurologist arrives. Yay, ANSWERS!

Damn, no answers. Instead you get a bit of mystery. The neurologist explains that your lymph nodes in your neck are swollen and this is not normal, because you don’t have an infection. He softly explains that he is going to order a PET/CT Scan and that his nurse will schedule it. Nurse tries to schedule it, tells the doctor the soonest the hospital can get you in is on April 28th. Then you hear “no, no that is not acceptable, you call her insurance, you call CDI, you stay on hold with Methodist. She needs to get in for a scan now.” This is the moment when you think “shit just got real and in your gut you know the doctor isn’t telling you the whole story.

Yay! IV for Radio Pharmaceuticals and a cup full of contrast die.

PET/CT gets scheduled for April 24th and you do your best to not google “why does a doctor order a PET/CT scan.” You try really really hard. Wow, look at that its April 24th, yay PET/CT scan day. While filling out a mountain of paper working something on the last page catches your eye: Reason for referral: “Cervical Lymphoma (neck).” Oh shit, fuck me and you suck it up, you hold back those tears only to read: “Procedure: PET/CT Eyes to Thighs, Cancer Initial Staging.” In this moment you say “fuck it” and go get yourself injected with radio pharmaceuticals and contrast die.

An that folks is exactly how I found out that I may have cancer. The big key word is “may” have cancer. Tomorrow at 8:00am I meet with the doctor to go over the PET/CT scan results. I would be lying if I told you that I wasn’t scared. It is what it is. I cannot will the cards to fall in my favor, they are going to fall where ever they wish. My big girl pants are glued on with duct tape and my knees are worn from all the praying I have done. I have to believe that this is all apart of his master plan. If my scan comes back CLEAN I am going to celebrate and take more time for myself. This was the wake up call I needed, it made me realize I work to damn much and that I rarely take time to make a life outside of work. My job has become my life and that’s not cool. If the scan comes back DIRTY I am going to fight like hell. AJ never gives up and I will give it everything I’ve got. Cancer is going to fear the day it whispered my name.

One thing I keep on reminding myself is that “had it not been for my leg hurting I wouldn’t have gotten that all important MRI of my brain, neck, and spine.” I saw 5 different doctors and made two second opinion requests before I got in front of the doctor that I needed. The one that dared to look past the fact that I passed the neurological exam with flying colors and still ordered the MRI. That MRI led to another and that one led to a PET/CT scan, that scan will change my life tomorrow. That one scan holds my fate and I hope we can CELEBRATE tomorrow. I truly do, because I like smiles more than I like tears.

{Go Red For Womem} Celebrating 10 Years of Saving Lives

Posted on January 29, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

I have always been involved with the American Heart Association. As a child I participated in jump rope for heart, learned CPR with my girl scout troop, and in college I volunteered with the Twin Ports Go Red Chapter. My family has been supporting the American Heart Association since the day a little girl named Emma came into our lives. Emma taught us that life is cruel and even thou we are small we must play the hand fate dealt us.

Emma was dealt a shitty hand right from the start. You see she came into this world with a broken heart. Emma was the fist infant in Minnesota to receive a heart transplant. With that transplant we were filled with hope for a brighter day. Emma was one hell of a fighter, she gave life her all until the last breath left her body on December 29th, 1995. Emma was 3 yeas old when she left this world. Her father was robbed of the chance to walk her down the isle, and her sisters were cheated out of a best friend. From that moment I was committed to the mission of saving lives.

Fast forward a few years I was away at college in the north woods of Wisconsin far away from my family. On February 8th 2002 I called home to speak to my father. Instead of a conversation, I found out that my father was fighting for his life. I hung up the phone, my knees hit the floor and I prayed to God to take me instead. My father gave it his all, he’s an angle with one wing in the fire and someone up there was looking out for him that day. The mayo clinic fixed his heart and he was able to see his daughter graduate from college, get married, and watched her find herself. Mostly he got to stand by his daughter’s side as she recovered from a stroke.

Emma and my father were to very good reasons to volunteer with the American Heart Association. Little did I know that at 26 I would become the very survivor I was advocating for. On October 22, 2009 my life changed forever. Five days before my 27th birthday I became a pulmonary embolism with infarction and stroke survivor. I have no side effects or disabilities from my stroke. I am one of the lucky ones. I received the life saving clot busters in the nick of time and excellent care. One thing is for certain I will never look at birth control the same way again.

I went on birth control to regulate my hormones in hopes that I would become pregnant. The doctor recommended the Nuva Ring and said I should use it for a year and then try to conceive. Sadly I was on it for less than a year. Instead of a child, I had the rug ripped out from under me. The Nuva Ring took the very thing I wanted out of the equation. I want more than anything to look into a child’s eyes and know that I brought them into this world. The odds are stacked against me and the risks are far to big. So I settled on the notion that I would never be a Mom.

I know the odds, yet I am not able to quiet the desire. I love being an Aunt, heck being an aunt has made my thirst for motherhood grow. I did a lot of soul searching and faced the sun. Then one day it hit me and I knew there was still an option. The Nuva Ring may have taken my ability to carry a child away, but it will (mark my word) never take away my option to adopt a child. An that is exactly why I am going Red this year.

Left: 2009 / Right 2013 Looking back and celebrating 4 years of Survival

I am going RED for all of the survivors who are now mothers and for all of our sisters who never got the chance to be called MOM. Because of donors like you women like me are getting the chance to be Moms. We are getting the chance to go to college, to fall in love, to get married, and to have families of our own. 10 years ago our futures looked bleak and now, now they are so bright it will set your heart on fire. Every day we are saving 330 women, every day 330 women are getting the chance to live. Young survivors are thriving, the old are spreading their wisdom, and together we are making a stand. A stand against the number one killer of women.

My dream is to one day put away my red dress and to live in a world free of stroke and heart disease. Mostly I want to look into my child’s eyes and love them with every inch of my surviving heart.

{For Jilliann} From One Mama to Another

Posted on December 7, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

Late Wednesday night I had an epiphany while Facebook messaging with my friend Jilliann. In that moment I realized that losing my son now made sense. That some how, some way God knew that down the road a friend would need me. That a friend would need a woman who knows what its like to lose a child. I was suddenly at peace with losing Lucia and knew that I could offer a shoulder of comfort to my dear friend.

Life is crazy, we follow the twisting roads marked with laughter and joy. No one ever tells us ‘hey life can be shitty at times.” We just hear about the happy ever afters and never about the tear-stained sidewalks. Truth is, this earth is lined with tear-stained sidewalks, we tread on them everyday and very rarely do we give the stains much thought. Thoughts, mine have been with Jilliann as I know she is just walking down the dark path of grief. Yelling “Why me? Why us? Why my daughter?” These are questions that will most likely never be answered. However they need to be shouted in order for her heart to heal.

Jilliann, I can tell you that you will never cease to question, you will always wonder what if and dream about what could have been. There are days where I drift away and wonder “what would Lucia look like today? ” I try to imagine what his laughter would sound like and if his smile could light up a room.” Then harshly I am snapped back into the land of the living and remember that my son died, not me. That my son died, that I survived and need to keep on living for him. That no matter where I go in this world my son is always with me and he will never be forgotten.

Trinity will never be forgotten, she is and will always be your little girl. For a few moments you had the sliver of happiness that we all so desperately want. You were eagerly awaiting the arrival of your sweet little girl, only God chose to shatter that sliver and you are left in the wake. Take time to be angry, curse God if you have too, stomp your feet, and cry your tears. Get the emotions out, run away, but always remember to run back. Hide for a while, but remember to return to the world when you are ready. There will always be a hole in your heart and nothing will fill the void. A wise woman once told me “You never get over the death of a child, you…. you just learn how to live with it.” She was right and that was the best advice I ever got. I didn’t have to be ok, I just had to learn to live with the fact that my child is in heaven.

Jillian, you never have to be ok with losing Trinity. In time you will find your way and you will become comfortable in this new normal. You will figure out how to live with the fact that you lost her and in time you will heal. Your heart will always be broken, yet full. There will be days where you look at the sun and smile. A random breeze will be felt upon your cheek and in that moment you will know that she is safe with God.

{Charlie} Christmas: Three Ships and Charlie Brown

Posted on December 3, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

For the first time I found myself able to sit down and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas without bawling. Christmas 2012 was hard, I mas deeply missing my partner in crime and I still harbored a lot of anger towards the drunk driver. Blinded I wasn’t able to see how incredibly blessed I was and I let the magic of Christmas slip through my fingers. Ba humbug perfectly described my mood, I wore a smile to hide the pain I was feeling inside.

I didn’t think my heart would heal and that I would be able to forgive. A healthy heart harbors no hate and a healthy heart is a happy heart. I had no room in my life for hatred or anger, I needed to heal on my own and to find my way. I choose to heal by doing something Charlie loved. I spent my summer walking the shores looking for glass to fill his half empty jar and with each piece my heart began to heal. I was able to love again and soon I felt like my old self. My heart will never be fully healed, the glue with hold it together and one day I will place my broken heart in the hands of another man. He will look beyond the scars and inside he will find a beautifully broken soul.

A soul that has a soft spot for beggars on a cold winters night. One who tries her hardest to find the bright side in every situation and one who never gives up. I am an unsinkable ship crashing against the waves. One who does everything in her power to make the lives of those around her better. One who cries at a song, finds joy in the smallest things, and lives a beautifully designed chaotic life.

The other day I was listening to KOOL108 when “Three Ships” came on and I was over come with sadness. Not the oh my I am so devastated sadness, but the good kind. You see “Three Ships” was Charlie’s favorite Christmas song. He would listen to it over and over on his iPod and would often sing along in his very out of tune voice. He would sing “Three Ships while in the shower in the middle of July, in the car in March, and would wake me up singing “Three Ships” in December. At the time I was annoyed and now I would give anything to hear his out of tune voice singing “Three Ships” from the top of his lungs. Until the song came on I had forgotten how much he loved it, it was the reminder that I needed to find the joy in the simplest things and to keep on singing. To keep on singing my song until I find my way home.

Tonight I found myself singing “Three Ships” while doing dishes and then I remembered that “A Charlie Brown Christmas” was on tonight. A huge part of me didn’t want to tread the waters and flipped the channel, the other part wanted to give it a shot. I sat with the Kleenex on my lap, to my surprise I didn’t need them. Instead of tears, I was filled with joy and found myself repeating some of the lines to the muppet like dog. Charlie loved “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and he would watch it as much as he could during the month of December. One can’t blame the man, his mother after all did name him after the little bald-headed character. Charlie knew the lines by heart and would often burst out with “All I want are 10s and 20s. All I want is what I have coming to me!” To Charlie December was about living through the eyes of a child, about finding the wonder in the every day, and spreading as much kindness as he could.

Even though Charlie is gone, it finally feels like Christmas, like Christmas should. I find myself looking for the spectacular in the every day and spreading as much kindness as I can. I am only one soul on this earth and I am doing my best to take care of my tiny part of the globe. I decided to get my shopping done early this year so that I could focus on my family and friends. I want to spend my holiday moments with the people I love and not in some checkout line. I want to watch Sophia’s eyes light up as the fireworks race across the cold night sky and to sing “Three Ships” to her as she drifts off to dreamland.

I ask all of you to sing your song and to follow your heart until you find your way home. Enjoy the journey and learn from the lessons. Spend time with your family, hug them tight, whisper more I love yous than you can count, because life will be over in the blink of an eye. The greatest Christmas gift does not come in a box with a fancy tag, it comes from the heart, the greatest gift of all is the gift of love.

I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas Day in the morning.

Pray, wither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day;
Pray, wither sailed those ships all three,
On Christmas Day in the morning.

{Brave} Let Thy Sea Glass Heal My Heart

Posted on November 26, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

Let each piece collected heal my heart

At the close of summer I found myself with a full hand of sea glass. My excitement grew as I held my treasure up to the sun and when I got home I placed it safely into Charlie’s jar. That day would be the day Charlie’s jar would no longer hold anymore glass. It was officially full. I laid the last tiny piece on the top, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders and I was over come by a warmth I cannot explain. In that moment with that one tiny shred of sea glass I let go of my fiancé. My mission was complete, with teary eyes I whispered “Goodbye my love, I will see you again one day.”

That one tiny piece of glass allowed me to open my heart, it gave me the strength I needed to put myself out there and to look for someone new. My friends helped me compose a profile and soon I received responses. Most were lackluster or endless email chains. I am to old for games so endless emails are not my style. In essence I am wise beyond my years, my heart is sacred and I deserve the cream of the crop. Except the cream didn’t respond to my profile. Online sites were getting old, duds filled up my inbox, and speed dating was fun, but I never came up with a winner. Hope, I was losing it and slowly retreated back into my solitude.

That is until one day a Marine emailed me in actual sentences and paragraphs. I wrote back, my two sentence responses led to paragraphs, the paragraphs led to text messages, and soon he would be sitting across from me at Burger Jones. That first date was only the beginning. To his surprise I asked to see him again and then again. Soon my birthday was upon us and he met my family for the first time.

My parents eagerly awaited his arrival and welcomed him into the fold. We had lunch at The Bronks in Lake City, picked out a pumpkin at Pepin Heights, and like always found ourselves drawn to the water. This was to be the last nice day of the year and I wanted to go for a walk on the beach. I found a few pieces of glass, my Mom she brought me a few more and so did my sister. The Marine quickly noticed that everyone was helping me and he to took up the search while skipping rocks. As my hands grew full I explained that when Charlie was alive we would search the beach for his precious sea glass. Of how I spent my summer looking for glass to fill the half empty jar Charlie left behind.

That night when I arrived home I put my spoils into a new jar, to my surprise it was filled to the brim. I snapped a photo and fired of a text proclaiming a success. The Marine’s response caught me off guard “Next summer we’ll have to fill an even bigger jar!” He doesn’t know it, but with those words read I became a teary eyed mess and in that moment I knew I was finally brave enough to let someone new into my life.

{Thanksgiving} To Shop or Boycott

Posted on November 25, 2013 by NinjaInTheCity

For all of you complaining about stores being open on thanksgiving day…. Here is a bit of food for your thoughts. You are boycotting stores and complaining that people are not able to spend time with their families.

What about the airport folks, firemen, policemen, military, EMS, doctors, nurses, chefs, and so forth. What about those folks. Instead of sitting down with their families they are healing the sick, keeping our communities safe, putting out fires, flying the planes carrying our loved ones, taking our tickets and loading our luggage, heck my Mama (she’s a chef) will serve 1500 people in the Buffett on Thursday. There are thousands of people fighting to keep our country safe all around this globe. And they will be lucky to get a satellite phone call home. None of the above ever complain. Maybe the retail workers should shut up and think about the thousands of people who have worked on thanksgiving without complaint.

My mother never complains, she goes in and serves your families at Treasure Island while hers gathers around the table without her. She on Thanksgiving morning will be taking care of a paraplegic, she will do her job without complaint, and then she’ll rush home to eat and turn around and head to the casino to prepare for that nights guests. She will do this without complaint, she has worked more thanksgivings than I can possibly count on two hands. She’s never once complained.

So just maybe the retail workers will stop and pause for a moment maybe all of you will start to boycott the police station, the fire house, the ambulance service, the hospital, home health services, restaurants, gas stations, air ports, hotels, and casinos. As all of the for mentioned will be fully staffed and running on this Thanksgiving Thursday. So please before you boycott and stomp your feet, think of my mother and all of the hard working folks who have not spent a thanksgiving with their families in over 15 years before you complain about a store opening at 5pm on thanksgiving.

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: Family