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

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

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.

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.

{Hearts on 22} Why I Go RED

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

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

On October 14, 2009 I had my annual check up and birth control renewal appointment. My Doctor asked me if I had any concerns. I said yes. “Yes I do, I have this incredible pain in my leg and it won’t go away. My leg is deep red in spots and I am having head aches.” The doctor said and I quote “oh you just need to exercise and drink more water. You will be fine.”

October 22, 2009, 7:00am I was driving through rush hour traffic when my chest started hurting. At first it was just annoying and I thought “oh I will just take some Tylenol when I get to work. It’s nothing.” The pain kept on getting worse and worse, my heart started racing, at this point I could barely breath. Again I though “I will make it to work, take Tylenol and I will be fine.” I kept on driving. My situation wasn’t improving, my arms were starting to feel numb, I was becoming light headed. I thought to my self “should I call my mom. No, don’t do that she will panic. Should I pull over and dial 911? No, don’t do that you don’t want to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway. Take the exit.”

I did take that exit and somehow by the grace of God I drove myself to the hospital in Woodbury. The last thing I remember is seeing the security guard hold out his arm and I collapsed. I woke up to a nurse telling me “I can either cut your clothes off or you can help me take them off.” The staff had all ready hooked me up to monitors and an EKG machine.

The doctor came in and said “well we know you are not having a heart attack but something is wrong. I think you might have an infection in your lung. Well take an X-ray and get you some meds and you will be out of here in no time.” Ok I said. Then he stopped turned around and said “are you on birth control.” Yes I said. He ordered more tests.

My heart had been in sinus tachycardia for over an hour, my oxygen level was below 40 and I was fading fast. The D-dime test came back positive and a CT scan was done. A blood clot the size of a 10 cent gum ball was blocking the main valve to my heart and my body was being starved of oxygen. Within minutes of this discovery, I had a stroke.

The ER staff was kicked into high gear and the life saving efforts began. Clot busters were injected, they gave me the highest possible dose of Heprin, and my life was saved.

But what gets me is this “this all could have been prevented if my OBGYN had truly listened to me, she could have ordered the d-dime test and the clot would have been found and it would never have traveled to my lungs.” I almost died 5 days before my 27th birthday. I got the best gift in 2009 and that was my life.

So please listen to your heart and mostly your gut. If something doesn’t feel right keep on pushing until you find the one doctor who will listen to you. Don’t end up like me, I learned the hard way. Now I never take a doctors word at face value and I ask questions.

One moment changed everything, I was robbed of my youth and now I am going RED because no woman deserves to fight alone.

{FaceBook} Friend Request From My High School Bully

red wingEver since I can remember I have always gone against the tide. I looked to the sun and answered to a higher calling. My parents will tell you that I am an old soul, that I wear my heart on my selve, and that my zest for life is addictive. That I have always looked out for my fellow-man, cried tears for the less fortunate, and believed that the under dogs would one day fly.

Ya know my parents are right. I grew up in a narrow-minded river town. One that thrived on rumors, turned out shoes, and kicked you in the gut if you were different. I was a biracial girl growing up in a one color town, I was a child with ADD taught by those who couldn’t see my potential, and mostly I was a girl who wanted to be left alone. I recently received a Facebook friend request from my high school bully. I was taken back, the memories shot through my mind like fire to the prairie. All of the pain I buried rose to the surface. I quickly threw my iPhone to the floor (thank God I have an otter box) and feverishly started cleaning my stove. I chose to leave it. I didn’t hit confirm or deny, I just left her hanging in the wind.

You see Sara grew up just around the corner from me and for some reason it was her goal to make my life miserable. High school was the worst, she would tell people that I was poor, that I was ugly, stupid, dirty, and so on. Teachers they ignored the insults that flung across the isle, they turned their heads, as I held back the tears. I finally had enough at the end of ninth grade, I came to my Mom in tears at my spring choir concert, My Mama vowed to make it stop. My dad on the other hand took matters into his own hands and called up her father. A meeting was set, we sat face to face our parents at our sides, and Sara proclaimed “I just want to be her friend. That’s all I want.” Lies spewed from her mouth as she tried her best to cover up her wrongs. The truth it came seeping through and she as told to leave me alone. That very moment set the tone for my high school career. Rumors flowed behind my back, people never forgot the lies she weaved and I couldn’t wait to break free.

You made fun of me for being in the FFA, for working at McDonalds and for buying my cloths at Kmart. Sara, I was never one to keep up with labels. Kmart was the only “department store” in town and well the clothes at Maurices were not my style. To this day I am still sporting my signature cardigan. (not the same ones I had in high school thou) Class, lady it never goes out of style. I wouldn’t be the leader I am today if it were not for the FFA. I am passionate about consumer driven agriculture and can often be found getting dirty in a garden. Red Wing is a farming town, lets face it Goodhue county has more livestock than people. So why not take the time to learn where our food comes from and to grow the perfect pot of petunias. Now for my getting a job in high school, see below……….

Sara, my family is far from poor. I got a job at McDonald’s during high school because I was tired of asking my parents for money. I wanted to make my own and not spend there’s. You see Sara, I grew up in town and spent my weekends at my family’s country house. Three cars lined our driveway, one of them is a 69 mustang that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. My Mom and Dad always made sure that my sister and I had everything and anything we wanted. In hind sight they were probably to good to us. Because now my sister and I need a support group for spoiled child syndrome. One lesson my parents taught me has always stuck with me an that is: “those who have money hide it and those that don’t flaunt it.”

I don’t spend my days keeping up with the Jones, I never have and I never will. You tried so hard to break my spirit and to knock me down the mountain. Your insults were my ammunition, each one whispered made me work harder. I knew my mind would be my ticket out of that backwater town. I cried in my mom’s arms, my diploma in my hand, not because I was sad, but because I was finally fucking free of you. I no longer had to see your face every day. I no longer had to put up with the whispers, I was finally fucking free.

Darling, I stretched my wings and I aimed higher than you could ever dream. I picked a college that I knew no one from Red Wing would attend. In Superior I came into my own, in Superior I discovered my voice, I found my grace, and mostly I shined. Through the hallowed halls I walked studying the laws that built our country. Dr. Cuzzo she helped me realize that I had the power to change the world. She’d tell me “never stop, you are so bright.” That was the first time a teacher ever told me I was bright. In her eyes I didn’t have ADD stamped on my forehead instead my intelligence pushed through.

Sara in the past 13 years I have set foot on three continents, got married, survived a stroke, lost a child, got divorced, dined with politicians, danced in the rain, and loved like I was dying. My voice is helping raise awareness about strokes in young women. I pounded the pavement in DC, crisscrossed the country lobbying for a better day, and took a moment to look into my nieces eyes. I have gone further than you will ever go. For you see I no longer fear the label you placed on me. You were right Sara I am different, I am so different from you that I am extraordinary. It takes an incredible amount of courage to stand up and to fight back.

Because of you Sara I strived to change the world and to make it a better place. Mostly I strove to return one day and walk up to you and say “Fuck you, fuck all of you” and then proceed to walk out of our high school reunion. Which I was totally going to do. However I decided that you weren’t worth my time. You see Sara you no longer have power and I will never mark my word be your friend. Not on Facebook and defiantly not in real life.

Different is beautiful and remember whose toes you step on because you just might have to bend down and kiss their ass one day!

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

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.

large group Lobby dayEmma 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

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.

“What Will You Gain When You Throw OUT The SCALE?”

Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography

Photo by Stephanie Ryan Photography

I always dread the end of the Christmas season and find myself counting down the days to wait for it, wait for it….. WEIGHTLOSS SEASON! Every January my TV is filled with commercials spouting “What will you gain when you lose” or meet the new you. There are commercials for every gosh darn weight loss pill, program, and so on. My favorite tagline from an ad is for Lipozine “Why does it work? It cost $300.00. That’s why it works!” Really a $300.00 bottle of pills is going to help me lose weight? I don’t think so. My biggest beef is with Kellogg’s Special K cereal. Their ads always start out empowering with statements such as “You are more than a number.” Then they quickly go down hill.

As a society we have become so focused on the little box that sits on our bathroom floors. We let it guide our self-worth and our lifestyles. I can tell you that I too once lived a life powered by my bathroom scale and counted every God damn calorie that I shoved into my mouth. I ate rice cakes, 100 calorie packs, and many unappetizing low-calorie microwave meals. My life had become “Count, eat, sleep, gym, morning weigh in —– repeat 24/7 365. Then one day I ate a cupcake, I didn’t dare figure out the calorie count, and for once I was ok with it.

As I was learning to love my body, my bathroom scale began to gather dust. I stood one night and looked at myself in the mirror. As in really looked at myself, I saw my body from a grown up perspective. I was reminded that I get my facial features from my Aunt Cherie Leigh, I have her freckles, large forehead, and high cheek bones. I noticed that my collar-bone sticks out and that my boobs are still holding their own. My back fat, (yea, I’ve got it too!) curves, and dimpled backside no longer bothered me. Instead of flaws I saw strength.

For the first time in a long time, I smiled into the mirror. I am not a size 8 or even a 10, yet I am happy in my size 12/14 jeans. I no longer strive to be like the girls in the magazines. I want to be the best possible me. I need to take care of the body that God gave me. The flaws disappeared, instead I focused on the fact that my body survived a pulmonary embolism and carried a child for a short while. The scar on my lower abdomen is a reminder of my bladder reconstruction surgery and to have hope for a better day. The scars on my knee remind me to keep on walking until the road before me ends. My curly hair, I finally love it and no longer wish for straight hair.

My big flat feet proved to be the perfect canvas for a tattoo. Tattoos, I’ve got two! One on my foot of four bear paws to remind me that my son Alucious is always with me. I have a book-worm studying a law-book on my lower right back (Ha! You thought it was a tramp stamp!) it reminds me to never stop fighting for justice.

You see I no longer want to spend my life looking at a scale. Instead I want to celebrate all of the above things and live a life full of worth. A life filled with white frosted cupcakes, walks with my dog, and backyard BBQs. I don’t need to be a size 2 to be beautiful. At a size 12/14 I am the healthiest I have ever been in my life. I no longer need those 100 calorie packs, rice cakes, and crappy low-calorie microwaved meals to eat “healthy”. I learned how to eat healthy, as in real fresh from the farm foods. I cook more and actually get excited about eating. I have more will power than ever before, I can pass up the bakery, cookie, and snack isle in the grocery store. I am not missing out on the treats, instead I buy just one cookie or cupcake to satisfy my craving. That’s all I need.

I do not need a low number to tell me that I am empowering, joyful, healthy, beautiful, or sexy. I will never let the number on my bathroom scale define myself worth again. I just wish Special K cereal would changer their ads and make women feel empowered in their current state and not ask them “What will you gain when you lose?” Because really the true question is “What will you gain when you throw out the bathroom scale?”

{Hearts on 22} Love With All of Your Heart

Sophia and featherChristmas is when I miss Charlie the most. Mostly because he got cheated. Cheated out of meeting Sophia. He was anticipating her arrival and received status updates on the progress of her birth. A trial kept him in New York and he couldn’t wait to hang up his traveling suit and snuggle his niece in his arms. Charlie never got to see her smile, hear her laughter or feel her tiny hand in his. Sophia never got to meet the man who dreamed of taking her to Paris and who would have spoiled her beyond her wildest imagination. Charlie died loving the tiny girl he never got to meet.

As I sit back and reflect I can’t help but to think about all of the people who have never laid eyes on their niece or nephew. Sure deadly drunk driving accidents stick in our minds. After all one drunk driver took Charlie an 4 other people out on a wintry Valentine’s Day. That was one moment in time, yet in that moment hundreds of women lost their lives to heart disease and stroke. Hundreds more died that day from a Pulmonary Embolisms or other hormonal contraceptive related side effect. Those lives never make the news, they just fade quietly into the timelines of history.

If it were not for my care team I would have joined the fading time line. I would have been another casualty not a news worthy story. There isn’t a day that goes by where I do not thank God for keeping me on this earth. For answering my silent prayer and giving me the strength to fight. For giving me the strength to stand up and shout my story from the roof tops. With each word spoken I began to heal my broken heart, I penned my name on a legal services agreement and became a plaintiff in the Multidistrict Litigation against Merck. I put myself out there in hopes that I could save one woman from enduring my hell. I love with all of my heart and in a sheer moment of utter disaster my passion was born.

My purpose is clear “educate those around me about the dangers of hormonal contraceptives, blood clots, stroke and pulmonary embolism warning signs.” I will not rest until the Nuva Ring is pulled from he market and until doctors properly inform their patients of the risk associated with the use of hormonal contraceptives. Charlie was the one who pushed me to share my story with the world. He took up my mission and would stand in the wings watching me with tears in his eyes as I brought tears to the audience. I am alive today because I listed to my heart.

When Charlie died my heart was broken and it healed each time I held our niece in my arms. Each time I heard her laughter, held her tiny hand in mine, and listen to her whisper Auntie” for the first time. To think the Nuva Ring almost robbed me of those moments. My birth control almost cheated me out of being an aunt. The Nuva Ring almost claimed my life and it changed me in more ways than I could ever explain. However it will never ever stop me from loving Sophia with all of my surviving heart. Sophia will grow up with the notion that she is one lucky little girl. Because she could be holding a picture of the woman she calls Auntie. Instead she gets to hold her aunties hand and play. She is lucky because God allowed her Aunt to be the 1 out of 5 who got to walk away from a massive pulmonary embolism on October 22, 2009.

As I watch Sophia unwrap her gifts I will be thinking about all of my sisters who lost the battle. About all of those who would gladly take my seat at the table and those who are fighting with all of their hearts. Families will gather and thousands of children will hear stories about the women they never got to meet. Heart disease, strokes, and pulmonary embolisms are taking to many aunties out of the equation. To many children are walking in memory of the woman they never got to call “Auntie” and never got to love with all of their hearts.

{For Jilliann} From One Mama to Another

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

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

Let each piece collected heal my heart

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

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.