{Charlie} Learning How To Finally Let Go

On February 7th Charlie was packing for what would be his last business trip to New York. He kept telling me “AJ are you going to be able to handle having me in the same town for all day, every day.” Yes, I said. He looked up with his famous grin and said I can’t wait to start our life together, you know be a normal couple with a dog living in a condo by the river.” I just laughed and walked into the kitchen. In truth I was delighted that he was giving up the fast paced New York life for a slow-paced midwestern life. The Valet brought my car up first. Charlie waved eagerly and said seven more days babe. Seven more days and we will be together all day every day. I love you he shouted and he caught the kiss I blew. With those words I was off to work.

Thoughts of our pending wedding raced through my head and mostly I was pretty darn excited to have someone to come home to at night. To have someone who understood how far I’ve come and where I was headed. Charlie knew me better than I knew myself and would tell the bartender “The lady will have a crown and coke, light on the ice with a twist of lime.” When a man knows your drink of choice, he’s a keeper. Most of my problems were solved over connect four and whiskey. Charlie trusted me with reviewing his memos and briefs. He would tell me “AJ this is going to change the world, please review it and check my spelling.” Charlie was a damn good legal writer however his spelling skills needed polishing. Together Charlie and I made the perfect team. He was a successful litigator and I was one hell of a paralegal. Together we created the life that dreams are made of.

Soon the weekend was upon me and I was rushing around getting ready for Charlie’s return. Shopping lists were completed, the Ivy Staff came over and cleaned. Cullen was set and I had started looking for someone to take over the lease on my uptown apartment. My IKEA filled apartment was to be packed up and stored. Each morning I awoke to the voicemail light blinking on my phone. Charlie always left me voice mails when he was out-of-town. On Valentine’s day he left me a long one. The words are forever etched into my memory. “Hey babes, its 3AM my time, 2AM your time, which means you are fast a sleep plotting your world domination. I just wanted to let you know I am all packed and ready to come home. In you I found my home. My world doesn’t make sense unless you are in it. You baby are the reason I breathe, you are the reason my life makes sense. I love you. Happy Valentine’s day love.”

In that moment I knew Charlie loved me more than anything in this world. He called me through out the day to tell me that he was being delayed and hat he was going to take the red-eye. Our last conversation was around 4PM, he was driving back to the city. We talked about his day, how the trial went and if he thought he had won. Charlie asked me how I was, about Cullen, and my day at work. I told him that I was ready for him to come home. Home, never sounded so good he said. I could tell that he was smiling. We said I love you and hung up. I went about my evening and drifted off to sleep around 10:30pm. In my heart I knew Charlie would be boarding the plane and coming home. Home. That Minneapolis would truly be our home. Little did I know, that Charlie would not be coming home.

At 6:05PM east coast time Charlie became the fifth car in a multi vehicle crash. He was air lifted to a nearby hospital and under went emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain and spine. He was unconscious. His mother got the call from the state patrol around 8PM and she rushed to the hospital to be by his side. The Doctors said it wasn’t good and she knew she had to call me. Minah couldn’t bring herself to do it, Charlie’s brother called me and broke the news. I fell to the floor and prayed that he would be all right. The earliest flight they could get me on was the late night red-eye.

On February 15th I went to work and acted like nothing had happened. I was dying inside, yet I knew in my heart that nothing I did would change the fact that Charlie was dying. Bad weather would delay my flight till the morning. At 2:55AM on February 16th my phone rang, in my heart I knew what it was. Minah could only whisper “I am sorry.” In that moment I knew he was gone. Charlie died while in surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain. At 3:15AM his heart gave out.

If only I had known that February 7th was the last day I would see Charlie alive. Maybe I would have chatted a bit longer, gave him an extra hug, and played that morning round of connect four. Then again I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Because I know he died knowing that I loved him with all of my heart. I can die knowing that Charlie died loving me. Love never dies, it is the legacy we leave behind. I may not be able to see Charlie or hear his voice, yet I know he is always with me. He is the voice that whispers “you can do it” on cloudy days, Charlie is pushing me along as he knows a woman like me deserves to be in love and happy. One day Charlie will see to it that I bring a child into this world and he will smile down on a little girl named Charlotte Rae, his namesake.

It has almost been a year since Charlie died and I finally have the strength to let go. To let go of what could have been and to say hello to my present. Losing someone isn’t as hard as the letting go. Letting go was the hardest part of my journey. To me letting go felt like I was turning my back on Charlie and the life we had. It meant saying goodbye one last time and waking up from the land of what if. I had to let go of the past so I could let someone new walk into my life and fall in love all over again. Charlie would want me to move on and to be happy again. Charlie would want me to live life to the fullest and to love with all of my heart. An because of that I am able to finally let go. To let go of a beautiful broken dream.

That is what makes life beautiful, beautiful because we do not know what tomorrow will bring. Each day is uncertain, it is up to each one of us to live it like its our last. To love with our entire heart and to do whatever we can to make this world a better place.

{Heart Month} To Survive or To Just Deal With It

“Heaven knows that I ain’t perfect I’ve raised a little cain and I plan to raise a whole lot more.”

IMG_0027
October 22, 2009 I was taught a tough lesson. Fate taught me that you can either face a problem head on or you can just deal with it. The difference between surviving and dealing is strength. It takes strength to fight back. I could have taken the woe is me route, but that’s not my style. I took the fight tooth and nail route. Survival was my only goal and I dealt with my PE and stroke head on with all cylinders burning. Failing meant life or death. I chose to live that day. I chose to not only survive but to thrive. If I had chosen to deal instead of survive my story might be different.

I like you, have my good and bad days. On bad days I ask myself “Are you having a stroke? No? Then this is not the worst day of your life.” Those words give me perspective, if I am not lying in ICU fighting for my life, than hell I am doing all right. My now former coworker once asked me “Do you ever have a bad day? You are always so positive and cheery?” Truth: I rarely have a bad day. Each day I wake up and grudgingly turn my alarm off is a blessing. Each day that I am standing above ground is a gift. I am living on borrowed time and I am not going to waste it on petty small things. This is my third chance at life and I’ll be damned if I spend it crabby. The fore mentioned is the difference between dealing and surviving. People who deal don’t realize how precious time is and they spend their days wasting away. Survivors thrive because they live each day like its their last and live until their heart bursts wide open. An that is why I never had a bad day. I can’t change the past and my future is best left up to fate.

I have to believe that my stroke and PE are part of some grand plan. I am a firm believer that the good Lord never gives us more than we can handle. I’ll never know why it happened or what my life would be like without it. There are days I wish for my pre PE and stroke life back. Then I think about all of the things I have done, places I’ve traveled, and all of the people I have met. Without the PE my story would be different. My PE and Stroke gave me the strength I needed to mourn the death of my son and it was the final whisper that got me to walk out of my loveless marriage. It allowed me to realize that I had the strength to handle anything and as long as I believed in myself I could never go wrong.

PE and Stroke will not define me. They are only a part of my story and they will not control my life. As a thriving survivor I can rewrite the story and bring a new definition of PE & Stroke survivor to the world. I can bust down stereotypes and help people realize that they affect more than just the elderly. I can stand up and fight for all of those who lost their lives so I could live mine.

Through out February there will be Heart events around the twin cities. When you see a young woman sitting at the American Heart Association table or someone with Survivor on their name tag ask her “What’s your story.” Do this and you will be pleasantly surprised by her fighting spirit and her desire to prevent other women from experiencing her fate. That is the difference between a dealer and a survivor. A dealer curls up and hides in hopes that tomorrow will be normal. A survivor stands up because she knows “No woman deserves to fight alone.”

{Hearts on 22} ~ National Wear RED Day

go redFriday February 1st, 2013 is National wear Red Day.

For the past ten years I donned red on National Wear Red Day. I wore it in honor of my cousin Emma and for my Father. I wore red as a reminder that heart disease knows no age nor gender. Red was my color and I wore it proudly. To me I was making a difference by sharing my Father’s and Emma’s heart stories. To me I was giving back for the second chance that my Father was granted.

My Father’s name is Gregory James. He is the son of an Irish woman and a Ojibway Indian. He is one of 13 children who grew up on a farm outside of Lake City Minnesota. His childhood was far from perfect, his Father was always to drunk to care and well his Mama, they only love he knew was the back of her hand. If you ask him about his childhood he will tell you “I survived by staying one step ahead of my Ma.” He never sugar-coated his life for my sister and I. You see my father was diagnosed with ADHD in the late 50’s. My Daddy was considered a throw away and no one ever thought he’d amount too much.

With only a 10th grade education he set out to conquer the world. He got a job in Minneapolis, lived in the YMCA, and learned that life was tough. Somewhere between Minneapolis and meeting my Mama he earned the nick name “Animal.” I’ve heard stories, but my Father has yet to deny or confirm the tales. Since he was barely making it in the City he returned to the tiny river town. As fate would have it he would fancy a female dump truck driver named Sharon. My grandfather played match maker and before long they were married.

My father is a laborer. He knows nothing but factories and nursery fields.Yet he was gentil and kind. Always lending an ear, a helping hand and playing with my sister and I. My Father was sort of like a stay at home Dad. Often my Mama would work double shifts which left my Dad with two tired and hungry daughters. Our dinners consisted of steak, baked potatoes, and watered down Koolaide. He would also get us up and ready for school in the morning.

Fast forward about 18 years. My father was the proudest man in town. One daughter had just finished college and the other was just starting. This is when the bottom fell out. I knew the day my parents dropped me off at college that it would most likely be the last day I saw him alive. He had fallen on ill-health and with no insurance he did not go to a doctor. One can tell when the soul is slipping away. On February 8th my father was admitted to the hospital, in March 2002 he was taken to St. Mary’s hospital in Rochester by ambulance. He arrived barely clinging to life. This, this killed me because I was away at college. My Father aways told us “When all else fails pray.” I just fell to my knees and prayed. I asked God to take me instead to give my father one more chance at life. The odds were not in our favor. However each day he got better and better. We soon learned that he had suffered Ventricular fibrillation which lead to cardiogenic shock.

My Father had survived. At 50 he became a survivor and we were blessed with his life. The past eleven years have not been easy. As a family we have had our ups and downs. My Father is not the same man I grew up with. His memory has faded, he is no longer able to work, and a good day is when he does not repeat himself 300 times. Those days are hard to come by,yet we don’t complain. Each day we have him around is a blessing. His first granddaughter turned one on the 27th and he was so proud. Seeing them together makes my heart happy. Yet, I am reminded that there are thousands of Granddaughters who never got to meet their Grandpas. An that breaks my heart.

What breaks my heart even more is knowing that there are children who never got the chance to meet their Aunt. Heat Disease, Strokes, and Heart Attacks are robbing children of their Aunties. To me my Stroke is nothing compared to my Father’s courageous battle against Heart disease. Because of my Father my life was saved. If I had never volunteered with the heart association I would not have been aware of the symptoms of a stroke. Through my dedication to my Father my life was saved. We are living proof that research can and does save lives.
pete and the girls
My Sister, My Mama, and I urge you to wear Red this Friday in honor of someone you love. Sophia would also like you to wear Red because she loves her Grandpa and Auntie very much. If that is not reason enough please wear red in honor of My Father’s niece Emma. Wear red in her memory and for the tomorrows she never got to see.

{Pocket Paralegal} Workplace Fashion

Each and every work place is different. I have worked for firms that are business casual all the way down to casual wear. Casual wear was really hard for me to get use to. I am old school. I love wearing structured dresses, trousers, cardigans, and skirts. Growing up my Father never let me wear sweatpants outside of the house. He would always tell me “A lady always needs to look put together. Because you never know who is sizing you up.” He was critical about our hair, fashion choices, and make up. Even to this day I do not buy an evening gown without my Daddy’s advice. He will tell you “I raised ladies and not heathens.” It’s true he did.

When I worked downtown I would often sit in the crystal court and watch the sky way fashion show. I saw everything from men in glittery jeans to suits along with women who often looked closer to a hooker than an accountant. Then there were the Target ladies. Target employes look like they walked right off the women’s clothing department floor. They had style and I’ll admit they liked pretty darn cute in their Menora wear. You could tell the first time suit wearers from the old pros. Awkward straightening of the tie to young ladies pulling their tights out of unspeakable places.

The firm in the burbs is a very casual environment. It’s hard to tell the Attorneys from the Paralegals and the Paralegals from the collectors. Everyone is always in jeans. Truth: When an Attorney comes in wearing business wear I automatically think I missed a court date on their calendar.

Over the years I have been witness to many wardrobe malfunctions. One should not wear clothes to work that fully display your muffin top or every bump in your body. Pants so tight that you can see a panty line or something worse. There is a reason God gave us mirrors. Most of the legal assistants are in their early twenties so its understandable that they think what worked at the club, works in the office. If you shook your booty in it, then don’t wear it to work. Club clothes do not belong in a law firm environment. If you are a bigger girl (hey I am right there with you) dress for your shape and accentuate your curves. This doesn’t mean wearing a shirt that’s three times to small and pants that are so tight a roll hangs over the top. Show who you are and leave something to be desired. Hey, dressing like a lady can be hard work.

So what does a paralegal wear to work? Thats a very good question and I am inviting you into my closet to find out.

SUMMER/WINTER BUSINESS CASUAL DRESS:
If your firm allows it thick strapped structured sun dresses will be your best friend.
Dress Summer

Dress WinterTake your summer dress straight into winter with a cardigan and tights.

SUMMER CASUAL:
Summer Casual
Light weight tops are perfect for the summer weather and a dark wash jean still keeps it professional.

BUSINESS PROFESSIONAL:
Business wearI get all of my blazers tailored to my body. This way I know they will look great on me. For a spring time look pair a cream blazer with a blue silk tank and dark gray trousers.

BUSINESS CASUAL:
Cardigans are a girls best friend. We all know that the office can be to cold or to hot. Pair a light weight top with a cardigan and trousers. If you get to warm take your cardigan off and roam around in your light weight top and trousers. To cold? Well go find your cardigan and warm yourself up.
Business Casual

BUSINESS CASUAL / DRESSING UP JEANS:
Winter CasualDark wash jeans are great for the office. They shout “Hey I am casual, yet professional.” To keep that business casual feel pair the dark wash jeans with a flowy top and cardigan.

CASUAL:
Friday CasualDark wash jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt can go along ways and work in a pinch on a snow day or if your running late.

I get most of my clothes from New York & Company, Old Navy, JC Penny, Macy’s, Neiman Marcus, Target and H&M. One thing should be known I rarely pay full price for clothing and I always shop the sales racks for great deals. Basics like cardigans can be picked up at Target for less than $30 each and they usually go on sale in the spring/fall for 50% off or more. Old Navy is great for t-shirts and trouser jeans. I am loving their sweetheart trouser cut jeans right now. JC Penny has a new sales model, you can find great deals on the 1st and 3rd Friday of the month. Neiman Marcus and Macy’s are my splurge spots.

What matters most is that you feel great in what you are wearing and that it is comfortable for you to work in as well. Your style choices are a reflection of who you are and show that you care about yourself. Always wear a pretty shoe and put your best self forward. Keep in mind you never know who is watching you. It could be Mr. Right or an Attorney from another firm scoping out paralegals for a new hire. I always say dress like you are going to an on the spot interview. When you do that, you can never go wrong.

Hopefully this helps each of you dress like a top-notch paralegal.

{Pocket Paralegal} What Does It Take To Be A Paralegal?

After searching the interwebs I have yet to come across a good Paralegal blog or blogger. So I thought to myself “I will start a new feature on my blog for Paralegals.” Thus the bi-weekly {Pocket Paralegal} post was born. In 2013 you can follow along with me as I share my paralegal life. (Note: Because I like being employed, the firm I work for will not be mentioned on the blog. It will be known as the “firm in the burbs.”) In addition to sharing my passion for the law, I will also dish out tips and tricks to assist the professional paralegal.

You may be wondering “what is a pocket paralegal?” The answer is simple, I am the pocket paralegal. Much like an ap on your phone, I once provided 24 hour support to about 14 attorneys. One in particular gave me the title of “pocket paralegal.” I often think about putting it on my resume, but refrain. I can’t let everyone know about my hardcore dedication, motivation, listen to you talk about nothing, draft like a mad woman, and organization skills. Truth: I have on more than one occasion worked myself sick and logged 70+ hour weeks. That is until I found a balance, which as a paralegal can be hard.

What does it take to be a Paralegal?

WHAT DOES A PARALEGAL DO:
Paralegals legally perform all the duties of an attorney with the exception of representing clients in court, setting legal fees, and giving legal advice. A paralegal organizes client files, interviews clients (sometimes), conducts research, drafts letters, and pleadings. Paralegals work under the supervision of an attorney and our time is often billed to the client.

PERSONALITY TYPE:
A paralegal should be a highly organized extrovert with a touch of introvert. In this profession you will find that most paralegals have a “Type-A” personality and are goal oriented. We as paralegals understand what it means to produce high quality work under tight deadlines. One must also be able to adapt to the ebb and flow of an Attorney’s emotions. Emotions and stress run high in the legal profession. I often say a Paralegal is: “a life coach, friend, motivator, organizer, and task master.” No one understands an attorney better than their paralegal.

I am an annal retentive, spreadsheet loving, organization freak. So yes, I am a perfect fit for the paralegal profession.

EDUCATION:
With our ever-changing world most firms and business are requiring a four-year degree along with an American Bar Association approved Paralegal Certificate or an ABA approved associated degree in paralegal studies. A lot of law firms also want experience.

I graduated from the University of Wisconsin with a BS in Legal Studies. At the time I graduated I did not have my paralegal certificate. My original plan was to attend law school. (that’s a story for another day) Instead I went to the MN Paralegal Institute and obtained my ABA approved paralegal certificate. It was a six month course.

EXPERIENCE:
Many young paralegals are saying that it is hard to get experience right out of school. My advice is to sign on with a temp agency for a while and work as a temporary paralegal. This way you will get exposed to different areas of the law and you can find an area that suits you best.

I didn’t land a paralegal job right out of college, instead I worked as a weight loss consultant at Jenny Craig for about six months. This got me the post college job experience I needed and it helped me land a job at a big pharmacy benefit management company. Once I got my paralegal certificate I took a job at a creditors rights law firm. This is where I learned creditors rights was not my cup of tea and quit in September 2010. I took a crappy contract job for about six months reviewing appraisal orders for foreclosures. As fate would have it that job ended in May 2011 and I found myself working as a contractor at Faegre. Faegre is where I earned my pocket paralegal cred, worked myself to death, and loved every minute of my time there. It’s not every day that you get to work Mr. Gerry Nolting. (Sadly he passed away in October of this year) At this point in my career I had enough experience under my belt to go searching for a permanent position. Working as a contractor is fun, working with out benefits is not. In January 2012 I landed my permanent full-time job at the firm in the burbs. I can hands down say I love my job and the people I work with.

SALARY:
Salaries depend on what area of the country you live in. I can honestly tell you that the days of high money are long gone. Most paralegals will start out around $28,000.00 and peak around $60,000.00 or so. Again it all depends on your skill level, reputation, experience, and the area of law you are working in.

Ha! You thought I was going to tell you how much I make? That’s a secret folks.

Hopefully the above gives you a better understanding on what it takes to become a paralegal.

{2012} Finding The Lining, When the Bottom Falls Out

2012 was filled with promise. As the clock turned to midnight Doctors were closer to coming up with a cocktail that would put my kidney disease into remission and I was finally starting to feel better. I was no longer taking up residence on the couch, instead I was out and about. Charlie was happy that his AJ was getting better. So glad that he proposed to me while I was a sleep. He totally took advantage of my ability to hold conversations while sleeping. Lucky for me he proposed to me again, this time I was awake. Wedding magazines slowly piled on top of his Play Boys and he was enjoying every minute of my drooling over Vera Wang. I had decided on a simple lace gown with a gecko green sash that tied into a bow on the side. Pie, I wanted pie and Muddy Paws Cheesecake instead of cake. Charlie wanted to pick out the venue and he had chosen the Chateau St. Croix winery. He wanted to hang lanterns from the 100-year-old oak tree and thought it was best to say I do at sunset.

Wedding plan lead to talks of babies. Charlie wanted to be a father, well with a catch. He was a Helion as a child and did not want a boy. He would tell me “If we have a boy I am going to FedEx him back to God. There will only be girls in this family.” I almost died laughing. You can’t blame the man, he grew up with three brothers. Charlie wanted to name our first-born girl Charlotte Rae. I giggled because well he’d say “We can call her Charlie for short.” Yup, he was going to name our daughter after himself, selfish I know. In truth I loved the name Charlotte Rae and couldn’t wait to start a family with him.

Thoughts of weddings jumped in my head as I started my new position at the firm in the burbs. Leaving the team at Faegre was hard, they had become like family. For once in my life I got to be a part of the ripple that was creating a better day. An that ripple will always be with me, because never again will I get to work on a case that big. I was excited to get started at the new firm and lucky for me I hit it off right away with the new Attorneys. While working away and learning the ropes I was counting down the hours to Valentines day. Charlie would be returning to Minneapolis permanently on Valentines day and I was excited to start building our life together.

Valentines day didn’t bring me love, instead it brough a wave of tears. The bottom fell out. I received the late night call that everyone dreads. Charlie’s brother said to me “AJ, sweetie I’m sorry to call so late. Choking back tears he said Honey, there’s been an accident and Charlie was hurt pretty bad.” The air left my lungs and I crumbled into the floor. I couldn’t find the strength to speak or to even cry. I muttered an OK. Two days later on February 16th, I got the call I had been dreading. Charlie’s Mom said to me “Sweetie, I’m sorry.” In that moment I knew he was gone. The man I loved with every fiber of my being was dead.

Charlie never got to say I do and we never got to plan the perfect wedding. Instead I got to plan a funeral, write a eulogy, and place connect four into his casket. I got to say Goodbye to my best friend. Charlie loved the song Cowboys and Angles, the chorus reads: “She lives for me, and I’d die for her.” I can die knowing that Charlie loved me until his last moment on this earth and that he would have died for me. So I must live for him. As the grave side service ended I was given a final moment to say goodbye. The funeral directors stood guard and looked toward the crowd as I placed my hands on his casket. Tears fell onto the cobalt blue lid and I promised Charlie: “Charlie, I will not let this one moment define me, I promise you with all of my heart that I will pick up the pieces and find my new normal. I will not lose my way and I will not lose my sense of wonder. I will always love you.” I also promised Charlie that when I start a family of my own I am going to honor him by naming my first-born daughter “Charlotte Rae.”

With those words whispered into the wind I walked into my future and began to heal. I will never understand why the man thought he was fit to drive after one to many drinks at a Happy Hour. That one drunk driver took the lives of five people on a NY state Hwy that day. Five families will never be the same and our lives will be forever impacted by the moment he turned the key and put his car into drive. I no longer ponder the why or the how. I am at peace with what happened and know that Charlie’s life was not a waste. Charlie’s life was full and he is now resting on the clouds of heaven looking down on all of us.

Bronks Charlie was looking forward to meeting Sophia and he couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms. Sadly Charlie never got to meet his niece. Having my niece helped me cope with the pain of losing my best friend. Sophia’s sweet smile and tiny laugh make me smile. When I look into her eyes I see hope, hope for a better world. I have no doubt that Sophia will create change and impact this world in a big way. The world is at her finger tips all she has to do is reach up and grab it. For now she settles on puffs, yogurt melts, and grabbing her Auntie’s hand. She has grown so fast. It seems just yesterday that I was holding her in my arms and now she comes crawling when she hears my voice. I love that little girl more than anything. Charlie would have loved her too. He couldn’t wait until she was old enough to play board games and to learn how to snow shoe. We had big plans to take her to Paris when she turns five. Now I will be taking her by myself and capturing the moments of her standing in the Streets of Paris. Charlie often viewed the world through child like wonder, I pray to God that Sophia does the same and that she will never lose her way.

While Sophia rested in the safety of her home, I was packing up mine. The Ivy no longer felt like home. The condo that we shared was no longer filled with laughter, drafting sessions, and board games. It was like someone came by and sucked the hope right out of the air. It was gloomy and stale. Minah and I cataloged and packed up Charlie’s things. Durring this processes I realized: “It doesn’t matter what we do in life, because all of us end up in boxes.” Tears where shed as I packed away his board games, wrapped art work, and God his clothes still smelled like his cologne. The muppet was sad to lose his friend and would walk around the condo looking for him. Soon the cars were loaded on a flat-bed, the last box was loaded into the semi, and I stood in an empty condo looking out at the Minneapolis skyline. I said my good byes and headed back to uptown.

Before I knew it spring had arrived in uptown and I was slowly finding my balance. One thing Charlie’s death taught me was to spend time with the ones you love. Because you never know when there last day on this earth will be. An I did just that. I no familylonger worked 70 hours a week and felt like I was cheating when I left the office at 5. Man it felt good to have a life again. I reconnected with Sherri, that girl deserves an award for being a saint. Her friendship means the world to me and I thank God every day that she is back in my life. Cocktails were had on the sidewalk, laughter filled the air, and I was smiling again. I took the time to actually listen to my Father when he called me, had lunch dates with my Mama, and babysat Sophia. Work is no longer a priority, it is no longer my life, and I am thankful that I was able to find the balance. It feels amazing to have a social life and friends again.

In July I went on vacation with my Mama and my sister for the first time in years. My Mama learned that one must keep their mouth closed when going down a water slide. WI Dells She drank slide water. No one likes slide water. All it took was one weekend to remind me why I love my Mama and my sister. My sister is always there for me. We may fight hard, but we love even harder. August brought Pete and I to the river road winery tour. Connecting with my Father is important to me and well wine makes it fun. By summers end I was ready to put on my dating shoes and make an attempt at a personal life.

On one August night a Chump walked into my life and well as they say “One moment can change everything.” For now the Chump is a keeper. He thinks I am goofy and well he just gets me. It’s not easy to date a complicated stroke survivor. He truly deserves a trophy for taking on such an endeavor.

I said goodbye to my twenties and hello to my thirties in Chicago. I am so glad to be 30, my thirties have to go a lot better than my twenties. Then again I of all people know that nothing goes as planned. So far we are off to a good start.

2012 is the year of construction. Fate tore my life apart and I put it back together. When the bottom falls out you must use everything you have to patch the bucket and move on. Living in the land of what if does nothing for the soul. It only steals your fire and brings you down a dark road. Ferry 20120818 - Copy I traveled that road when my son died. Charlie was the light I needed and he helped me over come a bad marriage and made me believe in love again. I have no doubt that he was there pushing me along the path and cheering me on once I found my way. Sometimes we just need one person to throw us a rope, other times it takes a village to help someone out of a dark place. What matters is that you get out. No one is ever to proud to ask for help. Help can come in many forms. For me my Family, Faith, and Muppet like dog got me through the darkest days. I know that Charlie is resting beyond the stars watching over me and cheering me on to my highest potential. I can go to the grave knowing that he died loving me and I will love him until my final breath. Until that day comes, I am going to live the life dreams are made of. Knock down a few walls, take down a few names, and leave this world a little better than I found it. Charlie would want me to do that.

My bucket is patched and I am ready to move on. I am ready to take 2013 head on with all cylinders burning. Love the life you live and live a life full of love. When you do that, you can never go wrong.

A toast: May 2013 be filled with love, prosperity, hope, and more laughter than one soul can handle. May the wind always be to your back and may you always wake up fighting the good fight.

{Hearts} On 22 ~ Christmas Edition

My Dad just celebrated his 61st Birthday and his tenth borrowed year on this earth. On February 8, 2002, my Dad died. He went into congestive heart failure. His heart was just fluttering and they did everything they could to bring him back to us. mama and peteThe man we got back wasn’t the man who raised me. He had aged and his mind wasn’t the same. Since I was at college when all of this went down, he didn’t remember who I was. He would call me by my Mother’s and Sister’s names. I had decided to call him Pete, Pete stuck. My dad aka Pete, knows who I am now and his memory thou sketchy at times, has returned.

In January I got to watch Pete meet his first granddaughter. Tears filled his eyes as he touched Sophia’s tiny hand. My heart melted into the NICU floor as I listened to him whisper “You are a fighter, welcome to the world little one”. In that moment I thought of all the Fathers who never got to meet their granddaughters, instead they watch them grow from heaven. Sophia is one lucky little lady, she is born into a family of fighters and survivors. She proved her worth during her fist weeks of life as she fought of Strep B, like a ninja. pete and sophia

This December we will celebrate with Sophia and our hearts we will be with all of those who are missing a love one. Our family knows first hand what its like to say goodbye to a little girl. Our Hearts are with My Uncle Jeffrey and his children. It will be 16 years on December 29th, since Emma left this world. Emma will always be in our hearts, she is the reason we started advocating for the American Heart Association. Because of her, our lives were saved. Every life lost is not a waste. Every life lost becomes a learning Moment for Doctors and from that life they learn how to treat the next patient. It is my family’s hope that one day there will no longer be a need for research. Why, because we dream of a day where there is a cure. Where families will not have to go through what we did.

It is my dream that one day Sophia will not have to worry about her birth control ending or harming her life. That she will grow up in a world where heart disease is a distant memory. Until that day comes we will teach her how lucky she is. Because not many little girls have a Grandfather and Auntie who beat the widow maker. Not many little girls can say “My Grandpa is a congestive heart failure survivor and my Auntie is a stroke survivor.” She is lucky because many little girls stand by the grave side confused and wondering what happened. Instead our Sophia will one day pound the halls of congress advocating for heart health and a cure, because she comes from a family of survivors. Bronks

{The Ugly Side of Divorce} – How One Girl Got Her Kung Fu Back

I was sitting on my couch sipping a cup of coffee looking at my Christmas tree when it hit me, I was no longer struggling. That I was no longer struggling to figure out who I was or where I was headed, and mostly no longer worrying about bills. In 2010 I made the choice to leave a terrible firm and take a $12 an hour job working foreclosures and that was my spiral.

Freshly divorced and barely making ends meet. I cried myself to sleep most nights. Durring the day I put a smile on and acted like my life was perfect. It was far from perfect, I wasn’t fine and it hurt. Life wasn’t supposed to be this way. I went from a plush lifestyle where we didn’t worry about money to that’s all I could think about. I knew something had to give and I needed a different job. Creditors called me more than friends did and the debt it just got taller.

I use to work in consumer debt collections as a paralegal and now I suddenly found myself in their shoes. I use to think “yea right” when a woman would say her ex husband had screwed her over. Then I found myself in that woman’s shoes and I didn’t have a clue on what to do. One thing I did know was that I didn’t want the debt to haunt me forever and little by little I paid it down. I learned to live lean and to only do what I could afford. Every bit of overtime I made went towards my debt and I cashed in part of my 401k to pay off medical bills. It has taken me almost two years, but now the only debt I have is my student loans and thankfully I can finally start paying on them.

Divorce may look easy, yet it is the ugliest thing I have ever gone through. It brought me to the brink, to the bottom, and eventually I struggled inch by inch to the top. Divorce taught me that as a woman I can not depend on a man to take care of my finances, I have to be the one in control. Truth: when I left my ex-husband I had no idea how to pay bills or even do an account transfer. I had to figure it out and plan out my pay checks. I had to do my least favorite thing and that was create a “budget”. Budget was such a dirty word to me and now its a part of my daily life. Budgeting has taught me how to plan for trips and those unforeseen expenses. Like dropping your cell phone in Old Navy. Only to pick it up and realize “shit, the screen is fucking cracked to hell” Thankfully I had cash on had to pay for a new phone. For once I didn’t have to worry about where the money was going to come from. An that was the best feeling in the world.

The feeling of not having to worry about “how am I going to pay for this?” I didn’t want to fork the $129.00 over for my clumsy mistake as it cut into the money I had saved for shopping. I have always loved Black Friday, I am one of those girls who refuses to pay full price for anything that is not edible. If it’s not on sale or if I don’t have a coupon, then I don’t need it. I always shop for clothing at the end of the season and save about 75% off retail, shoes I wear them until they fall apart, same with purses. I rather spend money on a quality product that will last me than spend a ton of money on cheap stuff that falls apart. Since my shopping budget was cut by $129.00 I had to rework my shopping plan. My living room is currently being taken over by presents. I bought gifts for seven people on Thursday/Friday and my grand total was $126.98. Even thou my bank account was down $129.00 I was still able to buy everything I had on my list and not have to worry about my account being in the red. Everything is wrapped and tucked under my tree.

This is my first Christmas where I am not worried about money, about being alone, or my health. Its been a long road, a long three years and I can say that I have finally arrived. My bank account is in the black, my bills are paid, being alone isn’t so bad and for once in three years I am finally not sick. I have gone an entire year without a kidney infection. According to my doctors we are winning the war, yet my future is uncertain. I have chosen to take my disease one battle at a time and one day I will conquer the staph virus that has taken up residence in my kidney system. My heart is strong and my lungs they are doing their best to keep me going. Today is great, yesterday is behind me, and tomorrow has yet to be determined. I have learned to live each day like its my last and to be thankful for every single thing I have.

For now I am happy that I can hold Sophia, tell her stories, and watch her grow. I am thankful to see Nylan one Saturday a month. One Saturday a month may not seem like much to you. However I know that all it takes is one day to build a memory that will last a lifetime. My love for Nylan will never cease, he is one of my greatest joys and I am greatful that I get to watch him grow. In Nylan’s eyes I will always be the woman he calls “Nannie” and that is all right with me. Charlie once told me “AJ if you believe hard enough the pieces of your life will fall into place.” Charlie was right, even thou he is gone the pieces of my life have fallen into place. This is my first Christmas without Charlie, yet I can feel him around me and I know that he is pushing me on to the next peak. Charlie would never give up on me and because of him I will never give up on myself. I am truly blessed to have such amazing friends, colleagues that put up with me, and one hell of a family that refuses to let me stand alone.

While sipping my coffee the worries were quietly silenced and I looked up at my tree with a smile. The muppet sat beside me sniffing the steam from my cup, I rubbed his goofy head and said “we made it pal.” A few tears began to fall and it started to sink in that I was finally “alright”. Three years of struggling led to this moment and I am finally comfortable in my own skin. My struggles will remind me to never turn my head away from someone who needs help and to smile at every stranger I meet, for they could be fighting a harder battle. I know what its like to be in their shoes, to feel lower than low, and to lose hope. The only difference is, I had people who believed in me. They never let me give up and always told me to keep fighting the good fight. I never stopped fighting. I plunged, dove, kicked, and punched until I got my kung fu back.

{Dating} Baggage – We All Have It

We carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. Each of us carries a suitcase full of memories, hopes,and dreams. There are times where I feel that I need to be strong and show the world that I am not a statistic. I am a hopeless romantic. I of all people should turn away from the quest of love, I divorced my husband only to find myself standing at the graveside of my fiance. I of all people know that life is not fair and that nothing goes as planned. There are days where I say “Fuck it” and just sit on my couch watching Lifetime movies. Then there are the days where I am determined to prove to the world that I am more than a statistic, I am one hell of a survivor.

In away I am lucky because I know what its like to love with every fiber in my being. I know what its like to say I love you and mean it with all of my heart. I’ve been filled with trust, honesty, and the illusion that those would carry us through to death do us part. Four years ago I meant every word I uttered on my wedding day. Part of me wants to believe that Scott believed in the words he said, then again his actions prove otherwise. He will always be apart of my story and mostly he will always be Alucious’ father. I have him tucked neatly in the bottom of the bag and carry him along as a reminder. A reminder to never give up my dreams for a man. I will however fall for someone who believes in my dreams.

Alucious will always be a part of me. You never get over the death of a child you just learn how to live with it. I think about him every now and then. I wonder if he would have his father’s eyes and my curly hair. One thing I know is that he would have been stubborn just like his Mama. Alucious would have been two this year. I have faith that he is resting safely in heaven and that his death was part of the master plan.

Last December Charlie and I were making plans for our wedding and planning the rest of our lives. Or at least that’s what it seemed liked. I was paging through wedding magazines looking for the perfect lace wedding gown and pinning down our colors. I found the dress, it was a beautiful lace ball gown with pockets sown into the seems, and a gorgeous gecko green sash around the waist. Charlie teared up when I showed him the picture of the dress. He said “I can’t wait to marry you AJ. You are going to look stunning.” He never got to see me in the dress, our wedding day was never to be. On Valentines day my life once again changed forever and two days later my heart broke.

I got to help make the plans for his funeral. I decided to wear a charcoal dress with a green cardigan (Green was Charlie’s favorite color), black tights, and my red pea coat. My red stood out like a beacon against the pallbearers. I walked in front of the casket as it was carried up the hill, holding back every tear I could and then I crumbled. Life isn’t suppose to be like that, no one should have to bury their fiance.

At 29 I was no longer a divorcee who lost a child, I was now a widow of sorts. In times of sorrow I turn to my faith, my family, and the muppet like dog. Faith gets me through, family reminds me its ok to cry, and the muppet takes me on walks where my mind can wonder. Dwelling on the past does nothing but open the wounds and pulls me back into the land of “what if.” No human should live their lives in the land of “what if.” What if only brings heart ache and keeps you in the past. So I tucked Charlie into my suitcase and marched on.

It took me a while to start dating again. August was when I felt brave enough to give it another shot. Lucky for me all it took was one date. I wake up to “Good Morning sunshine.” He calls me a goof and laughs at my lack of navigation skills. I’ve never been good with maps and driving directions. My bags are fully open, he knows about the past and it doesn’t phase him. He has his own baggage, when he opened it, I didn’t blink an eye. Instead I said “Its all right, we all make mistakes, that was the past and this is now.” Our baggage is out in the open and I am learning to fall, to feel, and to just be.