{Family} #NotYourMascot

Posted on November 1, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

When I walk onto a Reservation I do not have to drop my pedigree, some how they just know that I belong. I am a biracial girl growing up in a one color world. History has taught us that the “n word” isn’t cool yet its still ok to shout out “RED SKINS” on game day. No one bats an eye when Native American imagery is used in a harmful light, they scoff when we ask them to stop, and they they just don’t change. The American Indian is the personal punching bag of the American people and it will remain socially acceptable until we say NO MORE!

NO MORE! The time is now to rise up and fight for ourselves. Tomorrow thousands of full bloods, half breeds, friends, and supporters will unite as one. As one in a never ending battle to protect our heritage. I am and will always be more than the color of my skin. I am more than my blood quantum. I have three hundred years of history running through my veins, the blood of warriors, chiefs, and adventures. The past it carries me and it drives me to make a difference. I owe it to my 4X great grandparents to continue their fight and to carry out their dream of a better day.

Chief Sky Woman and Bazile rest on Madeline Island. I am lucky, I can visit the graves of my 4X great grandparents. I lay tobacco down and thank them for engraving the unwavering desire for change into our family tree. For daring those that came before me to follow their hearts and to make it in this world. My heart it always leads me to the Reservation where fry bread, coffee and stories are at the ready. I love hearing the stories of my elders, watching the ladies bead, and the sound of the drums bring me to tears.

Red Skin is a term tied to assimilation, elimination and re-organization of the American Indian. My family was doing all right until the assimilation period. Geneva Grace refused to sell her land in the name of progress. She wanted to raise her children where she was raised and to remain on her lake front property. The church they had a different idea and while she was away the scooped up my Grandfather and his siblings. The officials told Geneva that they would give her $10 and a ticket to Minneapolis if she signed over the deed. She took it and when she arrived in the city she was told ‘your children died in transport.”

Geneva never gave up hope, she didn’t believe the lies they told her. Out of survival she remarried a soldier and made do. Her daughter June was sent to Arizona, Walter to California, and Clifford to Lake City. Clifford is where my story starts, he is the reason I am on this earth. He was “adopted” by a German couple, they gave him everything and raised him as their child instead of a servant. When he was 18 his “adopted” father confessed and told him that he was bought, that he was an Indian and told him his real last name. That name was his ticket to the past, his tan skin lead him to Prairie Island. Bit by bit his story came together. He took solitude in the bottle, comfort in the bar, and became a broken Indian with a past to hard to bare.

When my Grandfather was an old man a letter came from one Geneva Cox. The letter simply said “I am your mother.” Geneva never gave up hope that her children were alive, Clifford was the only one she ever got to see again. Shortly after the reunion she died. Assimilation tore my family apart, but we refused to be beat down and the postal service brought us back together again with one letter. Geneva is and will always be apart of my families story. My Great Grandmother has been apart of me since the day I was born, Geneva is my middle name. This was my Dad’s way of honoring the past and bringing our family full circle.

Full Circle is when fate brought me to college in the north land. My last name gave me away and the director of the First Nations Studies program took me under his wing. He told me stories of the past, taught me my culture, and mostly he helped me figure out who I am. With professor Johnson’s help I claimed my heritage and came into my own as a biracial woman. I am not one color, but many colors and for that I will always be grateful. College is where I took up the fight to propel Indian Education and Cultural issues forward. I have been fighting to end the use of Native American Mascots and to end Columbus Day for a very long time. The issues at hand are near and dear to my heart.

An Eagle feather is the highest honor an Indian can receive, Professor Johnson gave me my first and since then I have been given one more. Charlie’s family gave me the second one on the day of his funeral. Charlie was honored with the Eagle Feather because he fought tooth and nail to better the lives of his people. In the eyes of his tribe he was a warrior and they honored his death by celebrating his life. Charlie was Mohican and Ojibway, he loved his heritage and the “Red Skin” name made his blood boil. He believed in a day where he would no longer be judged by the color of his skin, but by his legal wit. Tomorrow I will march in honor of my ancestors, Geneva, Clifford and for Charlie’s dream. I will carry out his dream of living in a better day where the color of ones skin no longer matters. Because I am more than White, I am more than a Red Skin, I am more than an Indian, I am more than a half breed, I am AmandaJean and I am not your mascot!

{Hurt} Collateral Damage

Posted on November 1, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

“MAY THE BRIDGES I BURN LIGHT THE WAY”

My past is lined with burned bridges and collateral damage. I am not an easy person to get to know or to even love. Damaged, yea you could say that. My life its a beautiful disaster and those closest to me end up being the ones I hurt the most.

Never in a million years did I think Gopher Guy would become my collateral damage. I have no idea what made Gopher Guy fall for me, I am far from perfect and the complete opposite of him. It became clear that he wasn’t going to see the light and that his new found love is faker than imitation perfume. Old habits die hard, he still acted like there was a chance and he made me feel like he was still interested. Our friendship was built on witty banter and flirting. Deep down I knew I couldn’t be stuck in some weird emotional love triangle and for him to be fully with her I had to let go.

I only know how to let go one way and that is by burning a bridge. He met me by the now dry government center fountains. Part of me was hoping that he wouldn’t show, but he did. In that moment I wanted him to hurt as much as he hurt me. As my words flowed into his mind, his kind eyes faded, his expression went from nice to nothing, and he was shaking. I did exactly what I set out to do and in that moment he let me go.

I’ve burned more bridges than I can count, this time it was different and instead of feeling nothing, I feel a tiny bit of regret. Yet, on the same coin I know that his feelings for me were not real. Gopher Guy never got into the deep with me and he only knows a piece of me. He met me when I was broken and saw me at my worst, but he never got to enjoy my best. He spent the past 3 years chasing me and I ran like hell. I told him I loved him, it was on April Fools day and 19 days later I said I can’t deal. His friends, they hate me because they had to deal with the aftermath of that burning.

But did they really deal? No they didn’t they just kept on checking his pulse to make sure he was alive as he drowned his sorrows in a bottle of liquor. Real friends, take the bottle out of your hand and make you face your shit. Your friends just let you hang on to that bottle and stood by and watched you fall. You cannot blame me for that night because I didn’t put the bottle in your hand, I didn’t tell you to drink your pain away. I’ve heard your recollection of April 20, 2012 more times than I can count. Did it ever cross your mind that someone did exactly that, except they got into a car, and took charlie away from me. It wasn’t you that did it, but someone just like you did. Life is hard liquor does nothing to cure the pain it only numbs it until the morning comes.

Your friends they still hate me. You had three years to clear my name and never made that attempt. You never told them that my fiance had died the day before your birthday party. That I only came because I made a promise. I am a woman of my word, even thou I was dying inside I put on a smile and tried to deal. Being in a bar that night was not the place for me and meeting your slightly intoxicated friends was a bad idea. I knew the moment they met me that they didn’t like me, I nursed a glass of water the whole night instead of throwing back beer and shots. I was physically there at your table, yet my mind was trying to remember if I grabbed everything I wanted for Charlie’s casket. Dinner was over, you went to the strippers and I went my separate way. That was the one and only time I have seen your friends. I got one shot and if I had known that they would be petty bastards, I never would have come to your party. Tell your friends to grow the fuck up and not to be so judgmental.

You failed me. As my friend it was your job to vouch for me and to defend me. You never did that. For three years you let your friends hate the ground I walk on. Hell, even today they probably still hate me. My Daddy tells me that “hate” is a disease and that only a tormented soul has room for hate. So your friends must be broken. Yup, they are broken. They hide behind their mental health, sex therapy, and who knows what else degrees they have to make themselves feel all right. I am human, I am not perfect and I cannot be fake. What you see is what you get. My opinion is never quiet. I may be small but I will use the voice God gave me and I will defend myself.

They say it takes a broken soul to know one. When I look into your eyes I see someone who has been discounted and passed up their entire life. Someone who was judged by the size of his waist line and not his wit. Girls, they never gave you a thought and you were always the friend never the leading man. When I first met you I shook your hand, you looked me up and down with a smile. I knew right then and there that you had fallen. I don’t know why but you did and I was ok with that. When I looked at you I didn’t see a large man, I saw your heart.

Gopher Guy I never paid attention to your outside, your kindness, dedication, unwavering work ethic and wit is what attracted me to you. Your heart is what won me over. You are someone I could trust, you dared to put me in my place, only to apologize minutes later for doing so. You constantly challenged me, made me laugh until I cried, kept me from face planting into mud puddles and you believed in me. For some unknown reason you believed in me with all of your heart and I didn’t know how to deal.

I thought you would always be there. It’s partly my fault I encouraged you to date and to put yourself out there. Orchestra hall, that night I felt the pull and I knew at that moment I had to go for it. Yet I didn’t. I was going to but over dinner you told me about Goodwill and preacher girl. (2 girls at once?! Whoa I created a monster!) Always know that Orchestra hall is the night I fell in love with you all over again. That was the night that sealed the deal. That was the night I realized that I still loved you.

Fate kept the manhuman in Minnesota. He was suppose to leave in July. The job it fell through and he moved in. (Bad idea I know) Someone was looking out for me as it didn’t work and I asked him to leave. I didn’t want to be that girl who leaped into another mans arms right after she left the arms of another. I had to let the socially acceptable time period expire. You, you put on the full court press the moment you found out the Manhuman was gone. You invited me to dinner more times than I can count, told me that I meant the world to you, and that I was the one you wanted. I eluded you and gave you half answers. I was afraid of letting you down and mostly I was afraid that I wouldn’t live up to the woman you saw in me. In my mind you deserved more than a broken surviving heart and I, I sold myself short. While I was waiting for the expiration date Goodwill girl stepped up her game. She grabbed you the day I was going to lay my cards down.

My steal, went down in flames. I fought hard for you and you didn’t want anything to do with me. 3.5 years of history meant nothing to you. I wasn’t shiny and new. I didn’t desperately chase you like she did. Goodwill girl loves beer, going to games and music. That is what you are building a relationship on. Take it from someone whose been divorced, that’s not enough. The shiny will fade, the beer you can only drink so much before you bank account dips, and when that runs out she will be moving on. Fairy tales tell us that you go for the one who fights for you and not the one who loses her shoe.

I fought hard for you and you didn’t care. You said things, did things, and crossed lines that should never have been crossed. You never once apologized for your actions and words. In your mind what you were doing was all right and you said a prayer to make it all better. Yet, you hurt the one girl you never thought you would hurt. I needed you to feel what I was feeling. I needed you to feel deceived, mislead, and used. Then and only then would you understand what you put me through. The difference between you and I is that I own my shit. Only apart of what I told you was true. Play you I did. The bridge I burned it and the answers are on my side of the river. You can fester and pray all you want for the answers, they won’t come to you because only I know what the two lies and one truth are.

Hurt? Yes I am and you, you are hurt too. Neither of us are clean in this. I did what I had to do to protect myself. I don’t do well with weird love triangles and attachments. The pin I pulled it and the bridge that lead me to you went down in flames. I didn’t completely close you out. It takes a beautifully broken heart to understand a fellow broken soul. I have been through more than you could ever imagine and I know that life hasn’t always been kind to you. Just know that you are worth more than you will ever begin to understand and that you, you made a difference in one small town girl’s life.

{Hearts On 22} Five Borrowed Years

Posted on October 22, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

Top right photo was taken one month after my PE and Stroke

I honestly cannot believe that it’s been five years. It seems just like yesterday when I set out to work oblivious to what this day would hold. I still remember what I wore and that I was upset because I forgot to buy creamer the night before. It was a free jeans day and I wore a gray cardigan with a white eyelet button down peasant style top and jeans paired with cranberry colored flats. It was also day #4 at my brand new job. I was busy learning the ins and outs of replevin work and didn’t have the time for inconveniences.

On Tuesday night I felt this excruciating pain rush through my body. I barely made it through the evening rush hour drive. I came home put my purse down, took some Tylenol and crawled into bed. Wednesday morning I was right as rain and went on about my day. On October 22, 2009 I woke up with a mild nagging pain in my chest. I didn’t think anything of it, figured I was coming down with a cold and brushed it off.

My body was screaming for help and I, I just ignored the signs. I had reached the Sun Ray shopping center, the pain was getting a little worse, still I brushed it off. A few miles down the road that nagging pain turned into what felt like a thousand knives cutting me at once. Breathing was proving to be difficult and my arm was going numb. I’d try to breathe deep, my lungs they fought back and I had to make the decision call mom, no not an option she will panic. Pull over, no you are afraid to be stuck on the side of the road. Oh look Lexington parkway, take the exit.

The exit, I took it. To this day I have no idea how I made it to Woodwinds Health Campus in Woodbury MN. The only thing I remember is throwing the Prius into park and collapsing into the security guards arms. Some how by the grace of God I made it to safety. When I came to the ER staff ruled out a heart attack and a panic attack, labs were ordered and I apologized for taking up their time. The doctor thought I had an infection in my lungs and ordered an x-ray and labs. As he left the room he turned on his heel and asked “by chance are you on a birth control?” I quickly said yes and he explained what the d-dimer test.

The d-dimer was ordered, my oxygen level was less than 50%, my heart was in sinus tachycardia and my blood pressure continued to climb. I, I was in rough shape. While on my way to x-ray the doctor shouted “where are you going with her? I canceled the x-ray.” I was feeling relieved and waited for him to tell me I had an infect and he was going to send me home. I didn’t get the news I wanted. With caring eyes he told me “the d-dimer came back glaringly positive we need to get you to CT ASAP. He quickly explained that the contrast die could prove deadly but the benefits out weighed the risk. I signed my name and into the scanner I went. They said it would take about 90 minutes for my results to come back.

I watched the clock and counted down the minutes. I could hear the phone ring, the doctor picked it up and said “shit! You have to be kidding, you are not!” Code blue was sounded and I heard a rush of feet come towards me. Within seconds every available hand was in he ER. He took my hand and said, “I am sorry AmandaJean you have a blood clot in your left lung that is blocking the main valve to your heart and your lung sacs have ruptured. Your body is not getting the oxygen it needs and you dear are going to be staying with us for a while.” My brain couldn’t comprehend how dire the situation was. My blood pressure went above 210, I told the nurse I felt woozy, one said it was just the pain meds, another looked at the monitors and said “the fuck it is, she is having a stroke,” he hit the panic button.

Clot busters were shot into my chest, thrombolytics and other medications were being pumped into both arms. I was alone, alone and fighting for my life. The ER doctor walked next to my bed as they were bringing me to the elevator bay. We stopped, he said AmandaJean do you know what’s down that hall? No I said. The morgue, I should be putting you on a slab instead of in a hospital bed. If you had been five minutes later your story would have been different, never ever forget that.

It took a few days for the gravity of what I had survived to sink in. Friends came and visited me, my parents and than husband stood by my side. My life became a series of injections, INR checks, scans, nerotherapy sessions and doctor visits. I was alive and that is what mattered. Almost dying 5 days before your birthday steals your innocence and changes your perspective on life.

I didn’t just survived, I thrived. The ultimate gift was given to me, not many people get a second go around. I treasure every moment of every day, because I know that if I were five minutes late my story would have ended with my ashes in an urn. Survivors rarely talk about the guilt that they feel. I walk this earth with a scarlet letter glued to my head and people tell me that I shouldn’t have a bad day, because I survived the worst day possible.

Yet in the quiet moments I feel guilty that I survived. In the past five years I have said goodbye to more friends than one soul can handle. I survived only to watch my son slip away, I took a seat at Adam’s funeral, wrote a eulogy for Connor, only to follow-up a few years later with a eulogy for Charlie, said a tearful thank you to Dr. Delahaunty, and held my friend Jilliann’s hand as we said goodbye to Trinity. I have been surrounded by so much death and heart ache. I can’t make heads or tails out of who lives and who dies, God definitely has the upper hand on that one.

Hands I’ve got two and my knees are worn from praying. My scars are healed, my body is somewhat back to normal, yet my emotional scars remain. Emotional wounds are he hardest wounds to heal. They slowly disappear with time. Anger was replaced with hope and that hope gave me the strength to make a difference. The guilt it is a reminder that four people had to die so I could be the one out of five who survived. I live each day of this crazy life for them, its the only thing I can do to honor those who went to soon. I vowed to spend my days advocating for those who no longer can and that they would be more than their deaths. Their stories deserve to be told. In one sheer moment of disaster I found my passion. I found that I had a voice and that I had the strength to stand up for myself. I signed my name on the dotted line and became a plaintiff in a product liability lawsuit against Merck.

The Nuva Ring took a lot of things away from me and on the same coin it gave me a life that even I couldn’t have imagine for myself. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there and share the most vulnerable moments of your life. Sharing my journey allows me to educate the public about the dangerous side affects of hormonal contraceptive. Sharing my story has allowed me to shape the view points of politicians and to propel heart healthy policies forward. I owe a lot to the American Heart Association, they took me under their wings and gave me a platform. That platform has allowed me to grow and come into my own as a survivor. I am not ashamed to say I had a Pulmonary Embolism and Stroke, I am more than those events, I am more than a survivor, I am and will always be a small town girl who set out to change the world.

The past five years have been a beautiful disaster and I am proud to claim it as my own. Because of quick action and research my life was saved. Every day the American Heart Association gives funds and encourages researches to tread unknown waters. Without the AHA we would not have CPR or advances in heart surgery, early stroke and heart attack detection. Research is why. Advocacy is why. Life is why. Second Chance is why. Without the AHA there would be no why in this world and we would have no hope for a heart healthy tomorrow.

I am incredibly thankful to my Woodwind’s care team, without them I never would have gotten to experience pregnancy followed by loss, then divorce, a little adventure followed by a whole lot of love and mostly without them I never would have gotten the chance to hold my niece. Without them my story would have ended at 26. Instead I got five beautiful borrowed years on this earth and I plan on borrowing a few more. Because life, its only just begun.

{Divorced Life Dating} Go For The One Who Waits For You

Posted on October 16, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

“People build up walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down. “

Relationships, are my down fall and I always go for the man I can’t have, not the one I can’t live without. I am always the chaser never the chased. I try to force something to exist when in my heart I know there is nothing to lay a foundation on. I go for the guy who keeps his online profile alive, the one who never calls, texts, or surprises me. If they are lazy and emotionally unavailable, then heck I want em. Sign me up for that shit and let the chase begin.

I chased my ex-husband and it sort of worked. I got the ring, had the best wedding ever, and spent my evenings wondering where the fuck he was or more so who he was with. I had to chase my own husband, he never text me first or called to see how my day was. I would mention this and he would run out to buy me flowers or take me to dinner. Jewelry and shopping trips, now they were his fail safe. Those were just items they didn’t quiet the voice in my head that always wondered who is he texting at 2 am, what’s in his email, and oh god where did he go last night. I made excuses for his cheating, I would say to myself “If you drop 10 pounds or if you did xyz like the other girls he would stop.” I blamed myself and cried alone in my king sized bed.

For those on the outside my departure was sudden and without reason. But if you paid close attention and noticed the stream of girls coming into my drive way, well then you knew why I left. I left with what little dignity I had and I vowed to never chase. That was short lived. A challenge is what I need. If you are a challenge then I want you, if I have to chase you to the moon and back I am so in.

Charlie, now that is a man that I didn’t have to chase. He was the curve to my ball and I had to find a whole gosh darn new field. He looked beyond the scars, and took the walls down brick by brick. He understood where I had come from and that I was still a work in progress. Charlie spent a lot of time on the east coast and in Iowa for work, he told me one night that he had a girl in NYC. I was mad as hell, play me he did. I couldn’t believe it, I got duped into falling for an unavailable man. I stuck him in the friend zone and went on about my day.

Fate landed me a contract assignment as a case assistant on a little oil spill in the gulf. Late nights and never ending weekends turned contractors into friends. After all no one on the outside understood what we were going through and how tedious the work was. Gopher Guy and I bonded over trip tickets and witty banter. He knew that I was sort of dating someone and he would always tell me “well that’s only temporary.” Charlie joked that Gopher Guy was my work husband and that he needed to step up his game to prevent me from being wooed away. Charlie stepped up all right, NYC girl was a thing of the past and I was settling in nicely to my life at the Ivy.

If Gopher Guy only knew what the future held, he would take back every “its only temporary.” He was sadly correct. Charlie would become the fifth car in a multi vehicle crash on February 14, 2012, he died two days latter from his injuries. I was crushed, I didn’t know which way was up and life, it just wasn’t the same. Gopher Guy came running to my side, he just sat next to me as I starred into space trying to make sense of it all. He didn’t say a word and that meant the world to me. Everyone else was telling me “it will be ok, you will get through this. or we are so sorry for your loss.” I didn’t need words, I needed silence, and he gave that to me.

Gopher Guy messaged me every day to make sure I was still standing and he made sure I got out. Subtle hints were dropped and I picked them up. On April Fool’s day he asked me if I would date him, I selfishly said yes. I was afraid of being alone and needed the distraction. This was incredibly wrong of me to do. How could I commit to someone when I was in love with a ghost. I would fall a sleep at night with Charlie in my dreams only to be awaken by the cold wet nose of a muppet like dog. I felt guilty, like I was cheating on him. Gopher Guy put on the full court press and I couldn’t deal. I called it, I asked for my space and to not contact me.

We went months without saying a word. It killed me inside to lose such an incredible friend and I sent a message out of the blue. He responded with “oh thank god!” From that point on Gopher Guy has spent that past 3.5 years chasing me. I was to afraid to go for the safety of his arms, I went after the emotionally unavailable. None of my relationships worked and never once did I utter I love you. Instead I found myself rushing home to tell Gopher Guy about my dates and about my life. He would always always throw insinuating text messages into the mix. Gopher Guy would tell me “you are the most amazing girl, you are worth waiting for.”

I never asked Gopher Guy to wait, he just did it. On my worst days my head had a way of finding his shoulder. He has seen my full on ugly cry, consoled me when my relationships went south, and mostly he gives me the best heart felt advice. It didn’t matter how unavailable I was, he always tried to steal me away. Earlier this summer it dawned on me “your relationships never work out because you have mad feelings for Gopher Guy.” Word, subconscious self and duly noted. Hot damn! My subconscious was fucking right, yup now I just had to get over the fear.

I found myself single at the end of August and Gopher Guy was somewhat single. For some reason his game stepped up and I passively passed it on. Until I finally found the strength to say “yes.” No this isn’t a magical OMG she got the guy who waited for her story. Shit Facebook told me he was in a relationship with a girl. It was kind of a shock because he had just asked me out to dinner. Apparently he had no idea his relationship was that serious. I plotted my course, laid my cards on the table and attempted a steal. My steal, yea that didn’t go down well.

All of my secrets are showing. We had a really good early morning ugly cry and he let me know that he has never stopped loving me, even now he still does. Yet he listened to the peanuts, pushed our history to the sidelines, and went for her and not me. He chose her over me. Gopher Guy thought our ship had sailed and that he would never have a shot with me. Shots? I’ve had plenty of shots to grab him. I didn’t because I only know how to function as a chaser and with him there was no challenge, only sweet sweet safety.

Every girl dreams for a man that will love her with every inch of his soul and I, I let mine down. I’ve learned you do not look for the one who compliments you, you, you look for the one that completes you. The one that will bring you new experiences, the one you can teach, the one who will listen without question, the one who dares you to swim with the sharks, and withholds judgment as you plot a crazy course. You, you go for the one person who dares to wait for you.

{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.”

{Charlie} 40 Birthdays On Earth & 3 Birthdays In Heaven

Posted on June 4, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

Memories seep in like a cool breeze. At first the breeze touches your hair, caresses your skin, and the chill it catches you off guard. Memories are like that, they catch you off guard. Much like love, when you are falling you don’t realize you’ve fallen until that one moment when his smile catches yours. I’ll never understand why Charlie chose me to call his own, in my opinion I am more of a mess than a prize. Something you walk by and leave for the next guy. Charlie would often tell me “AJ you are bigger than you can imagine, you are the spark that lights up the room.” I would simply smile and walk away. His brown eyes, god those eyes would meet mine and he would say “I mean it kid, I mean it.”

I have been caught up in a cancer scare and trying to get my feet on solid ground, so caught up that I almost forgot that today he would have been 43. Charlie loved celebrating birthdays as much as I do and I almost forgot his. Then again with time his being gone has gotten easier and I have learned to live without him at my side. On the day of my surgery I could feel Charlie around me and as I went under I was certain that I heard his voice. His voice is etched in my memory and the way he whispered into my ear late at night, those moments are something I cherish. Surprisingly I’ve come to find peace in the goodbye and those memories bring me comfort.

I can still hear the squeak of the chapel doors and the way the covering on the pew felt against my wool tights. The way the room felt, how the light flickered through the stain glass, and how the sunlight bounced off the cobalt blue casket. I held his hand for the longest time and talked to him for what seemed like hours. Part of me believed if I held his hand long enough I could will him back to life, in my heart I knew it wasn’t possible, yet I held on. As I held his hand I looked at all of the mementos that were placed inside, there was barely any room for him, and in that moment I knew he was being sent off with more love than one soul could handle.

Love is what I felt when I followed the casket down the isle, the church was standing room only and I was amazed at how many lives he touched. I took my place and waited for the Pastor to give me my queue. As I walked up to the Pulpit I dug deep and face the crowed, I did the last thing I could do for him, I sent Charlie off with one hell of a Eulogy. That was the last thing I could do. Hymns were song, prayers read, stories were told, and a video was shown, this was how we celebrated his life.

The tiny stone church stood proudly in the distance, a path to the grave site was shoveled, tents set up and men holding metal trays filled with shots of whiskey greeted us. Each guest grabbed one, I stayed behind with the pallbearers and waited for the guests to take their spots. The funeral director gave us the queue, they carried his casket on their shoulders and I walked in front leading him to his final resting place. Charlie’s father raised his glass, made a toast, took the shot, and slammed the empty glass on the lid. His brothers did the same, followed by his Mother, grandparents, and then it was my turn. Overcome by emotion, I had nothing witty to say, so I just bawled, drank the shot and slammed the empty glass on the lid. I will never forget the sound it made, the heavy clunk and then a clink as it hit another glass.

His life was bigger than his death, he had so many dreams and had done so much in such a short period of time. I was lucky enough to be a dot on his timeline. I was lucky enough to know what true love feels like and I was lucky enough to be loved by someone who loved me until he took his final breath. The only thing I can do in return is to learn how to grow and move on from it. I know with all of my heart that Charlie would want me to move on and to live the best life possible.

I have no doubt that I would have thrown him the best 43rd birthday party known to man. Filled with friends, family, food, and of course whiskey. Then again I know Charlie would have preferred an evening playing board games with friends over a lavish shindig. Like the previous two years there will not be a party, instead, I will blow out a single candle on a lemon cupcake and whisper “Happy Birthday Charlie” with the muppet like dog by my side.

{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.

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

Posted on January 5, 2014 by NinjaInTheCity

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?”

{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.

Have Bear Will Travel

She had to break, so I could shine

Category Archives: love