Houses

Today I was busily cleaning house and getting things all shiny for the showing tomorrow.  It made me think of the house that Miranda Lambert sings about in her song "The HouseThat Built Me". She sings about the house she spent her childhood in, and she goes back to relive her childhood memories and the things that happened to her there that made her who she is. I love the song.

It got me thinking about all the houses I have lived in. The first house I remember living in was a great big old house on Tejon street in what is now downtown Colorado Springs. I only have hazy memories, flashes of a staircase and the wood in the house. I also remember that my brother Andy picked at the plaster in his room until he made a hole in the wall. I remember a picture of Lois and me in dresses standing on the porch of that house.

I next lived in a house in the brand new subdivision called Widefield, near Security in Colorado Springs. When we moved there, our house was one of the first houses built.  I remember it raining and flooding and tornado warnings. I remember filling the washing machine with water when it stormed, I guess to have fresh water. I remember my best friend Terri Hayes. We became friends in 2nd grade and remained friends into high school, even after I had moved, and then lost touch with one another. I remember raising our rabbits, mine was the one who had babies. I remember getting chicken pox with my brother and sister and my cousins Steven and Wendy. It was so hot. My mom and aunt Bonnie set up lounge chairs for us in our garage to lay on where it was cooler.  I remember the poppies my mom had planted out front, and I remember being afraid she was going to go to jail for growing them because somewhere along my road of growing up I learned that heroin came from poppies. I'm now fairly certain that wasn't the kind of poppies mom grew. I remember being little and my dad tied me to the close line with the sash on one of my dresses and made me feel like I was flying. We had a huge back yard, and in the bottom of it Lois, Andy and I along with our partners in crime Steven and Wendy dug a great big huge fort in the dirt. We spent so many hours in that dirt. We fought wars, played house, played wagon train and anything else we could think of. My first boyfriend lived across the street from us. His name was Darryl Kriner. I remember he was a hemophiliac (bled easily) and had to get infusions of plasma and blood transfusions. I often wonder what happened to him, there were so many who ended up with HIV or AIDS from all the blood products they received before there was testing for this. We "went steady". He gave me a ring made out of beads, and I treasured it as if it was a diamond. This is where I lived when I remember losing a pet. We had a dachsund named Cisco. His back went out and we had to have him put to sleep.  I remember mom and dad sent us outside to play so dad could sneak off to the vet with Cisco without us knowing. However, in true Cisco fashion, as dad drove by us outside he lifted his head and looked out the window as if to say goodbye to us. Dang dog.

When I was in 9th grade, we moved to Canon City, Colorado. I remember when we first went to see it. There were all these old people driving old cars, we called them Beaver Cleaver cars from the show Leave it to Beaver. We moved into a house in the country. We had an alfalfa field and an apple orchard. We lived next door to a dairy. They had a dog named Andy, and for a long time, we couldn't figure out why they were always yelling at my brother. We had a garden and black walnut trees and a circle driveway. I remember thinking that was pretty fancy. I worked next door at the dairy taking care of the calves. I LOVED that job. We lived in this house when my grandpa Tiffany died.  I was almost 16 when he died.  I remember he was the first person I loved who died (I was at least old enough for it to effect me). I had a pet goat named Cathy whom I adored. I bought and raised male calves from the dairy and sold them to my dad when they were ready to be butchered. The first time I fell in love I lived in this house. He knows who he is, so I won't say the name here, but we were crazy in love, only as teenagers can be. I remember "keggers" and "woodsies" (AKA beer parties) and bonfires. I remember Skyline Drive, a road the prisoners built that twists and turns atop a mountain above the old prison. Canon City is where most of Colorado's prisons are. I fell madly in love with a baby named Amy. She was a newborn baby whom I babysat for a year or so. I felt so important taking care of her. Of course she mostly slept when I was there, but I would go in her nursery and sit in the rocking chair and just watch her sleep. She was blonde and had blue eyes. I remember the huge bedroom Lois and I shared. We painted it the ugliest color of yellow, but at the time we thought it looked like sunshine. We always shared a bedroom when we lived at home.

In 11th grade I moved to Tehran, Iran. My dad had taken a job through the telephone company to be part of the team put together to install the phone system in Iran. We lived in an apartment. I remember feeling how strange it was to live somewhere that the people around you didn't speak your language. I remember being so horrified by the extreme poverty people lived in as much as I was fascinated with how rich the others lived. I remember the butcher shops with meat hanging outside in the heat with dried blood and flies on it. This is where my aversion to meat came from. I had a great friend there. Her name is Joy. We reconnected a couple years ago on Face Book. We were partners in crime. She had a boyfriend she was forbidden to have contact with because he was much older than she was. We traveled by cabs provided by the telephone company anywhere we went in Iran. Joy and I would call a cab and go to a fancy motel to mail her forbidden letters to Steve (by the way they are still married) and to buy our fancy cigarettes.  We also ditched a lot of school and hung out at Mexicali restaurant. Two of the waiters were quite taken with Joy and I, and we would spend the days there eating and flirting until we had to take a cab to our bus stop to make it look like we got off the bus with everyone else. We also used to go to a park that was by the Shah's castle and sit and smoke and laugh and giggle. By then I was dating her brother Patrick and their mom's name was Patty too. So we would talk about my boyfriend and she would tell me about the forbidden Steve. It all ended when the Shah's regime started falling apart and severe rioting and killing of Americans started. We all had to leave. No time to say goodbye to anyone. We were just lucky to be able to get on a plane to anywhere but Iran. I am still so thankful for the experience and very, very grateful to live in the United States of America.

When we got back to the states we lived in Pueblo for a while with my grandma until we got a place in Canon City so that Andy and I could finish school at Canon City High with our friends. When my dad returned to the states, he took a job in Grand Junction with the phone company. After I graduated my mom moved to Grand Junction and that fall I moved there to go to college. That was a bad time in my life. This was right after I had my abortion. I started nursing school, and my first rotation was labor and delivery. It nearly killed me. I remember seeing babies being born and longing for my own. I dropped out after a semester. About a year later I moved to Pueblo and lived with my grandma. I went to business school to become a secretary and later started working at Parkview Hospital where I worked for 17 years.

In 1996 I bought my first house. I was so proud that I did this all by myself. I was still single. I met Mel a couple months before I bought the house. He helped me move and put things back together in the new house. This is the place we fell in love. This is where he proposed to me. This is where we lived when we had Nicole. When Nicole was 3 we moved up the street five blocks to the house where I lost Mel. I fell so in love with that house. It was so beautiful and seemed so huge. Mel bought me a hot tub. We would soak in it in the middle of the night when it snowed. That was our favorite time. This is where we lived when Daniel came to us, another baby to love. This is where we lived when Mel was diagnosed with cancer, where I cared for him when he was ill, and where I eventually lost him. I don't know if I could ever walk back into that house. This summer when we went home I could hardly drive by it. Every once in a while someone will tell me they have driven by and how the new owners have changed it. I don't want to hear. I want to erase the bad things and go back there and relive the good years again.

In May 2011 the kids and I moved to our house in Odessa, WA, 10 weeks to the day after Mel died we arrived in Odessa. I still don't know how I managed that. I hated being here, I hated living here, I hated being anywhere that Mel wasn't. This is the house that has built me the most. This is the house I have lived in where I have ranted and raged at God for taking Mel from me. This is the house where I have laid curled up in a ball in the middle of the night, night after night, sobbing, begging God for my old life back. This is the house where I have had to learn to function again, at least on the surface. I have spent more time in bed in this house than I probably had the previous years in our old house. This is where I have laid at night curled up with a baby puppy in my arms and tearing streaming down my face in loneliness.  This is the house where we all three sleep in the same bedroom. I have gotten a lot of unasked for advice about how to remedy this situation. I figure they won't still be sharing a room with me when they get married so I'm not too worried about it. We still feel better if we are all together, especially at night. This is the house where my faith in God has been tested over and over and over again. This is the house where I have argued over and over and over again with God about not wanting to be here. This is the house where God has taught me so many things. He has taught me that He didn't take Mel from me as punishment. He took Mel home to live in Glory with Him until he comes again. This is the house where I have learned to laugh again and where I have started to trust God again. The time I have spent here has been a real spiritual journey for me, and God had the exact people in place here that He knew I would need before I even knew they existed. My Christian sisters Lynn, Kerry, Faye, Michelle, Merleen, Vici, Wendy. They have held me and loved me through so many emotions and changes and questions and doubts and fears. He put us next door to a wonderful couple who has loved us like family, second grandparents to my kids and sounding boards for me. He put me here with family to rely on when I need help or a place to go when it's lonely. So I believe that this is really the house that built me, because God has put me here to "build me" into the person I am today. I still miss Mel, I always will.  I still don't understand why he couldn't have been cured here on earth, and I never will. I still get angry when I think of my kids not growing up with their daddy, and I always will. But this is really where my spirituality has been tested and grown more than any other time or place in my life, and for that I am thankful.

I first wrote this several months ago. It is now December 28, 2012. A lot has happened since this started. A few weeks ago my dad called me. He told me he wanted to start looking for us a house in Pueblo even though our Odessa house hasn't sold yet. I told him no, he told me yes, I told him no and told him I could not ever ask him to do that. He told me I hadn't asked but he had. He told me he didn't care what anybody else thought about his decision. He told me he is 75 years old and doesn't have that much time left to live, and the time he does have left he wants to live it with my children close to him (maybe me too). He told me he had even considered that maybe it would be best for us to be in Washington when he dies so that Nicole and Daniel wouldn't have to witness losing him. He asked me if I thought he was selfish. I told him no. I told him that my greatest desire was for my children to be near their grandparents again. I guess it takes being a grandparent to know the joy of actively participating in your grandchildren's lives. My kids are the only grandchildren my parents have ever had the opportunity to live near. So it comes to a full circle. Today a house is being bought for my family, about 2 miles from my parents home. Next week we start packing up, and then I move across country again for the 2nd time in less than 2 years. I am excited but I am also sad. I will miss my family and friends in Odessa, but I hope to remain a part of their lives. Facebook is a wonderful place. I love you all and wouldn't have missed being in Odessa for anything. God really does have a purpose for everything in life. There was a purpose in me being here, I have a whole new "circle of friends" whom I will love for life. Thank you, all of you for taking care of us this past year and a half.

Trash

I need to say before I start that I wrote the beginning of this to a dear friend of mine, after reading her blog post, early this morning because of  a situation she is in. So I would first like to ask that everyone say a prayer for my friend. That's all you need to know because God already knows.

I got up early this morning because I forgot today is “trash day”, and I have a lot of trash this week. After reading your post I sat here and thought about the trash and filthy garbage that Satan likes to fill our minds with. He takes great joy in the things that frighten us and take hold of us even for a few seconds, because during those few second we are not focused on the love of Jesus Christ and all that He has done for us and is doing for us. I have my own fair share of “trash” that I carry around, and usually it is the same “trash” over and over again.

I have trash (fear) about the future. I worry about whether or not I will move home again, and then I worry about leaving Odessa behind and all the wonderful people God has brought into our lives to bless us and love us here in Odessa. See I let fear sneak in even when it comes to a blessing God has given me. I wonder how many times we do that. I am embarrassed to say I do it a lot. I try to take just one day at a time, live in the moment, live in the day that I am in. When I look too far into the future I get so scared. I see my kids growing up, leaving home, starting lives and families of their own, and in my mind's eye I see an old lady alone and lonely. Satan doesn't even let me consider the possibility that my kids might live near by or that I might have a friend or two to share my life with. Satan doesn't want me to see that, but God wants me to trust for "I know the plans that I have made for you, plans for you to prosper" (sorry bible study girls I don't remember where the verse is or know it word for word). God would never plan for me what Satan wants me to think. God loves me, yes even me.

I have trash (fear) that I can't be an effective single parent. Every day I think in my mind "what would Mel say about this, how would Mel react to this". Satan gets me to question this, because Mel and I inevitably thought the same about discipline, love and training and bringing up of our kids. We never argued about it, and when we talked about it we were always on the same page. So here again Satan wants me to think I am ineffective as a single parent, but I forget that God so blessed me with my perfect husband that I already instinctively know what "we" would do to raise our children. I also believe Mel is watching over me and that he is proud of how I love our kids and how I preserve our memories of him.

I have friends who fear about pregnancies because they have lost babies in early, middle and late pregnancies. When I was pregnant I feared that my baby would die because God was going to punish me for having had an abortion in my teen years. My mind was Satan's field of victory for over 25 years with this subject. In my mind I knew that God forgave me, but in my heart I, I, I could not forgive myself. All my life all I had ever envisioned myself being was a mother of many children. It took reading our church's newsletter and the message from Pastor Hal to make me learn that I had to get help with this "piece of trash". He wrote about a barge floating around in the ocean that was full of garbage and had nowhere to go, so it just floated around all day, every day in the Atlantic Ocean doing nothing but becoming stinkier by the day. Quite an analogy of Satan's lies don't you think. After I read this, and I read an article in the paper written by a Catholic priest about a healing retreat they held each year for women who had undergone abortions. I went and talked to Pastor Hal. Until this, very few people even new this about me. I was afraid that if people at church knew about it they would scorn me. I believed that they would not want me to work in the nursery and take care of their children after I had killed one of my own. I feared they would shun me. I never wanted to think about this story in my life, much less share it, but I believe it speaks to the overwhelming, all surrounding, all consuming love that God has for me. I went to a recovery support group. I learned that 1 in 4 women have had an abortion. To me that meant that even in my church there were women who had tragically made this decision, and I was right. I was friends with one of them and never even knew it until years into knowing her. So just the fact that I no longer beat myself up over this every day, that I can now claim being pro-life without feeling like a liar to God, is a miracle to me. God has blessed me with two children, and I know now that God smiles upon me and them and the fact that I am trying to raise them to make Him first in their lives. I think it is important for people to know that not only does abortion take a baby's life, it also destroys a mother's soul. I encourage compassion with people who have had an abortion and have suffered in silence, fear and self-loathing for years for making this decision.

For all my friends and family I want you to know I pray for His peace upon you, His love and presence surrounding you, and please know how very many people are interceding on your behalf for God to bless you abundantly. Our last bible study here was on intercessory prayer, and it is so powerful, so we need to take comfort that when we are our most frightened and can’t seem to catch a breath and fear takes hold of us that there is still intercessory prayer going up to God on our behalf, that even when we are weak, there are many of Christian brothers and sisters being strong for us. That’s what Family is for, and we belong to the highest family, we were all created equal by the one and only King of all Kings, and he DOES NOT CREATE TRASH.

Empathy (I Hope)

Recently I have found out about some people I know who have been diagnosed with kidney cancer.  One of them is an old friend from high school who was diagnosed with Stage IV kidney cancer just like Mel was and the other is my cousin's daughter a young 23-year-old single mom of two young children.  It breaks my heart when I hear news like this (I know I don't have the market on this, it affects everyone who hears about it in one way or another).  I am sad to think of someone from my past, whom I haven't seen or talked to in 14 years, will likely die and leave a wife and children behind.  It breaks open old wounds on my heart.  I am sad to think that my cousin's precious child has cancer, maybe it's gone, maybe it won't come back, but once it has been said you have cancer I think the thought of it having been there at all is always niggling at the back of your mind.

I think back to when my mom lost her sisters and brother.  Her older sister, Merle died of lung cancer.  Never smoked in her life except shirtless in the back of a pickup truck with my mom and their other sister and their children (there is a story behind that).  At the time she died she was driving a souped up Camaro.  She was my "cool" aunt, the one I could talk about anything with.  She fought cancer with everything she had.  I saw her a lot between the time she was diagnosed and passed away.  Every time I saw here, there was a little bit less of her there.  The one time I knew for sure that she knew she was going to die my parents and I, Merle and her husband Paul, had all gone to Albuquerque to see my mom's baby sister who also had cancer.  We went to a 50s styles restaurant, and Bonnie (mom's baby sister) wanted us all to sign our napkins and put the date on them, and aunt Merle didn't want to do it.  I knew then and there she knew she was going to die.  She was usually the ring leader of these kinds of silly, fun things.  My mom nursed both of her sisters to the ends of their lives (mom was a nurse).  A little bit of her died with each of them.  When my mom was a little girl, she went to kindergarten twice because when Merle went she couldn't stand to be away from her while she was at school.

My aunt Bonnie lived in Seattle when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She had a mastectomy and was assured by her surgeon that she needed no further treatment.  Not long after that she moved to Albuquerque and was found to have metastatic breast cancer in her liver. The only thing that made me feel better with her cancer is that she did not have the excruciating pain that aunt Merle had with her cancer.  Bonnie was such a dear sweet lady.  She always had a ready smile and a laugh and LOVED to shop (I think the gene has been passed on to my daughter).  Once when she was in the hospital to have a blood clot filter placed, the hospital auxilary was having a jewelry sale and she insisted on being put in a wheelchair and all of "us girls" going down to buy some jewelry. My mom lost another piece of her life when she lost her baby sister.  You see mom and aunt Merle had practically raised Bonnie.  They remember her being born and them putting blankets in a dresser drawer for a safe place for her to sleep, and they took care of her.

My mom's brother Ralph died without my mom being there.  Mom and dad had gone to Utah because Ralph was sick.  He died as they were pulling into the hospital parking lot.  My mom felt a sense of betrayal and loss for not being able to see him once more or to be with him when he died. I told mom that I thought God knew she had had enough of watching her siblings die and I don't think Ralph wanted her to go through that either.  All three of her siblings died within just a few years.  She was raw for a long time after that. I felt that way when Mel died.  I felt cheated.  I still think to myself what if he was scared or could have spoken one last time and I wasn't there to comfort him or to hold his hand when he passed from this life to the next.

When my sister Lois was diagnosed with breast cancer, I wanted so badly to be with her.  I knew she was scared, but she was also determined and brave.  The night my mom came to tell me Lois had cancer, I called her (mom) a liar.  I told my mom there was no way my beautiful sister could have cancer.  I put the kids to bed and went to bed early.  Mel was working nights, and I remember I lay awake all night crying, longing for him to come home and hold me tight.  I felt so alone that night.  Little did I know 2-1/2 years later I would lose my strong, handsome, funny, flirty, kind husband to cancer.  Lois told me she was scared at night, and when Mel came home from work at 1:30 in the morning, we would pray for God to be with her and give her strength and peace and courage.  She told me she didn't know what to pray and I told her "just call out the name of Jesus and He will be with you, He will know what you need and what you want to say". 

The day Mel was diagnosed with cancer, I had to go to the bathroom at the doctor's scheduling office to compose myself.  I was curled up on the hard, cold floor and called my sister.  She helped me be strong enough to get out of that office and into the car with Mel so we could go home and decide what to tell Nicole.  I told Mel as we drove out of the parking lot that day that our lives would never be the same again, and they weren't.  There were a lot of good times, fun, laughter and more love in those years we had left together.  We used talk at night in bed, all four of us, and we would share a memory of that day that had made it special for us.  I wish now I had written all of that down, but it's still in my heart.

Today I heard from a friend about a family member of hers whose husband is very near death.  She is a young woman with a 3-year-old baby.  I am absolutely horrified of what she is going to have to go through.  You are never ready, never prepared for that kind of life event. I have never met this lady and I just want to reach out and hug her and tell her that it isn't okay, it will never be okay, it will never get better (maybe just a little easier) as time goes on to say a final goodbye to the man you love and the daddy that small baby loves. 

So now that all of this has been said, I want to say that what I am going to say next is very selfish and self-serving of me, but it is the way I feel.  I don't want to hear about people who according to a doctor should have died years ago from a rare cancer, and they are still alive and Mel is dead.  I don't want to hear of new cancer treatments that might save a life or even cure cancer when it is too late for Mel and me.  I don't want to hear that the treatment Mel had gave someone else five more years with their family.  On the flip side of the coin, I would never wish cancer on anyone, I would never want anyone to have to lose the love of their life, I would never want another child to ever lose their daddy like my kids did, and I don't want people I care about to be afraid to share news with me just because I don't want to hear.  I want to know and be involved in the lives of the people I love, good and bad and all the in between.  I just wanted to have more time with Mel, and that will never change, but I still want to throw myself on the floor and scream like hell and want to know why me, why us, why my kids.

I know in my head (or what's left of my brain at this age) that this is the same for people everywhere, everyday, all over the world.  I am not the only person to have suffered this kind of loss, heard devastating news, watched the horrifying details of a disease who eats away a little bit every day of the person you love.  I want people to know that I know they feel that way too.  I also want them to know that no one will ever know exactly what it is like because we are all so different. Sometimes I just don't want to hear it because I know the pain and heartache it is going to bring to the next family who has to hear it, and I know how horrifying the aftermath is and that it takes a long time to start to see the light, to see the clouds lifting, to feel the dead weight of grief ease a little bit, and also to know that all of those things come crashing back at you in waves when you least expect it.

This is how I sum up cancer, one of my passwords is f*&* cancer, and I mean it.

Morals, or lack thereof

Today I had to go to Spokane to have a followup mammogram and ultrasound.  Last year my mammogram was abnormal, and I had to have a needle biopsy done.  So this was a followup to see if the mass had changed at all, and Praise the Lord it had not, so I just need yearly mammograms now.

Now to tackle the morals issue.  We were driving down Division Street in Spokane, and there was a very scantily dressed young "lady" outside her place of business trying to wave down business.  I think it was a coffed place of all things.  She was wearing either a bra or a very skimpy bikini top and a pair of jean shorts that, shall we say, left nothing to the imagination.  She was on the sidewalk waving to everyone and motioning them to come get a "coffee". 

This really made me think about the moral decline of our entire society.  I also thought that the people ogling this young girl needed to think if that was they way they wanted their mom/wife/daughter/girlfriend to be ogled at in the same way by hundreds of people driving by.  I know I don't ever want anyone to see Nicole like that, and Mel would have killed them for it.

It also made me wonder why parents would purchase these kinds of outfits for their daughters to wear.  Here at the school in Odessa the girls wear "booty shorts", slippers, pretty much anything goes.  I remember when I dressed for school (ok I know it was like a million years ago), we dressed conservatively and were taught at HOME to respect our elders and our teachers.  In elementary school the only time we could wear pants was if it was too cold, and then we wore them under our dresses, and once we got to school we were sent to the bathroom to take them off.  For PE we had a pair of shorts to wear under our dresses. 

I also wonder about the choices young ladies make in their bathing suit attire and anything else that reveals a lot of flesh.  Then I go back to the fact that I would not want anyone looking at my daughter the way men look at young ladies in the skimpiest of bathing suits.  I also think men should have the dignity to avert their eyes when they something like this.

Nicole dropped out of dance class this year because of the fact that in one of the dances they were supposed to wear jean shorts, cowboy boots, a white T-shirt and a plaid blouse over the shirt.  When she went to practice her instructor informed her that her shorts were not short enough, and her shirt was not tight enough.  After seeing the video of the recital, I was thankful that Nicole had not wanted to perform in that recital and show her body to everyone in the audience.  During most of the dances the girls were pulling their shorts down, and I think it made them uncomfortable to wear that short of shorts, or they would not have been frantically pulling on their shorts everytime they had a chance.  At the end of one of the dance numbers (the one with the short shorts, cowboy boots and a hoodie, at the end the girls unzippled their hoodies, and on their shirts they had written "I'm sexy and I know it".  One girl painted 2 crosses on her shirt, one over each breast, and I thought why don't these parents step in and have a voice in what these girls are wearing to dance in and to have a voice in the numbers they dance to.

I don't understand why so many people are okay with young girls flaunting their bodies whereever they go.  It has been proven that men focus on the body and what they can SEE visually on women and that women are attracted to men for their kindness/respect and other things like that rather than just "seeing" the kind of body he has.  I think we need to raise up our boys to be respectful and not ogle the bodies of girls who flaunt "what they've got" for the whole world to see, and we also need to teach our girls that modesty is a good thing, and that the way to get positive attention from the opposite sex is not by "flaunting what they've got" for the whole world to see. 

I have a friend who has four sons, and they are very vigilant in what they look at.  They have a code word "Nike" and anyone in the family can say these when they feel they are looking at something that is not modest, and all of them (including mom and dad) avert their eyes.  They are trying to raise Godly men in a world filled with sin, and I admire them for that. 

Mel and I have also taught Nicole that you need to be modest in what you wear, and that modesty is something that God wants us to practice.  Remember Sodom.  Nicole wears a 2-piece bathing suit, but the top has to come down and cover the waist of her bottoms, and she wears a pair of shorts over her bottoms most of the time.  She wears shorts and skirts at the knee or lower, or she wears leggings with anything shorter.  I think we need to raise our children to respect their own bodies, so that when it is time to date they know what limits to put out there and expecting their "dates" to respect their limitations as much as they do. 

My goal in raising my children is first and foremost I want them to be born again Christian's, I want them to know the Word of God and understand it as it applies to daily life.  I want them to care enough about themselves that they don't look for approval in the opposite sex to fulfill what is lacking when it comes to their self-perspective.  I want Daniel and Nicole to know that if they wait upon the Lord, he has already picked out a perfect mate for each of them.  I want them to know that every little piece of yourself you give to others of the opposite sex is one less thing you have to give to the mate God has chosen for them.  I want them to know that no matter how the world judges their appearance that God created them to look exactly they way they look, and there is no shame in anything that God has created.  I don't want them to make the bad choices I made and have had to live with for my entire life.  I want them to be able to talk to me about anything, which I was never able to do with my own parents.  This is why we do scripture memorization, bible teachings and devotionals. 

I tell Nicole all the time that when you first become friends with someone, have common interest, desires and beliefs, that is how a mature relationship starts to grow.  I tell her how Mel and I were friends for about six months before anything romantic happened, and that the best compliment he gave me was that I would not have to worry about physical pressure from him, that he just wanted to be my friend and see where it went after that.  I want Nicole to know that if boys are demanding physical attention from her, that they probably don't have her best interests at heart, and that if she communicates with them her limitations and beliefs, if they continue to pressure her, then they really are not thinking of her best interests or respecting her choices.

I know a lot of people don't agree with my feelings about this issue, but it is something I feel very strongly about and hope to instill these beliefs in my children.  Modesty and protecting your virtue is no laughing matter and should not be something to be ashamed of or coaxed into dropping your guard about.

The most important thing is to commit your lives to Jesus Christ and confess your sins and let Him lead you in the direction you should go, this way you will always make the best choice possible.

Stinging Words

gos·sip    (gsp) KEY

NOUN:

1. Rumor or talk of a personal, sensational, or intimate nature.
2. A person who habitually spreads intimate or private rumors or facts.
3. Trivial, chatty talk or writing.
4. A close friend or companion.
5. Chiefly British A godparent.

intr.v.
gos·siped, gos·sip·ing, gos·sips

To engage in or spread gossip.

Gossip, we all seem to love it at least sometimes.  I know I have been both the gossiper and the gossipee.  It takes conscious thought before you open your mouth about a subject that might be considered gossip, like telling a secret you promised you wouldn't talk about, stretch the truth about things to seem important or for dramatic effect, repeat things you've heard that have no bearing on your life or your listerners' lives and has not been verified.

Gossip hurts.  Even when it is the truth, it hurts to know people we trust and love talk about us behind our backs.  I do it too, so I personally take blame for my participation in forms of gossip.  If I have ever hurt you by something I said behind your back, feel free to call me on it.  The thing about gossip is that I may have said or done whatever the gossip is about, or somebody may have heard about it from so and so that I said it or did it, so I think I should at least get the chance to be honest with you and admit it if I said and to declare it an untruth if I didn't say it.

Women are great gossipers, but I know a few guys who are really good at it too.  Men are just generally more close-mouthed than we girls are.  Gossip can ruin a career, a relationship, a life.  Even Jesus cautions us about gossiping.  When I moved to Odessa last year, I joined a ladies bible study.  These women are very close to me, and we have an understanding that our private conversations and prayer needs or just trials we each go through are to remain confidential.  I have shared a lot with these women I trust that I don't want anyone else to hear.  I say it to them because they are my "safe people".  They can look at things objectively for me and maybe point out to me a different take on what I am upset about or worried about.  We also did a bible study on how to be a better wife.  That was hard for me since I had just lost Mel.  It talked a lot about gossiping and how as wives we need to protect our husband's from idle talk and our families as well, and we do this from protecting ourselves from gossip.

Gossip covers a wide variety of topics from child rearing, child discipline, personal habits, housekeeping, spending habits, affairs of the heart, speculation about affairs of the heart, and feeling like you have the right to judge people for the way they do any of the above.

When Mel was sick, many times we had news from doctors that we intentionally did not share with everyone.  We didn't think our kids needed to know all the details of his illness.  During this time there were people who thought Mel should do more physically, do more with the kids, do more to help me, but what they didn't know was that he was in excruciating pain and wasn't able to do those things.  At the time we told only the people taking care of us how much pain he was in, and it was very painful when I would hear some of the things people said about him just being lazy, or just using "cancer" as an excuse not to do the things he should have been doing, in their minds at least.

There have also been times when I have made assumptions about people, their decisions, their way of life, their discipline or lack thereof, and I know that I have to be very careful what I say and do.  I think we would all do a better job of caring for each other if we would just take the time to talk to the people we are "talking about".  If you are going to talk about someone, they should at least have the chance to defend themselves or correct the information or confirm it if they choose.  Maybe they don't want to talk about it, and that is their choice.  If you see someone struggling, hurting, being dragged down by circumstances, why not offer a kind gesture, a word of hope or encouragement, or hand up or a hand out, help them do the things they don't seem to be able to do for whatever reason.  Just be a "good Samaritan" and jump in and help, and then don't go around telling everyone what you did for that person.  People who care about each other should just help each other without having the need to report all the grisly details to anyone who will listen.

I am so thankful to the Lord that I have "my ladies" who have my back and will (and have) done whatever I needed them to do in the darkest time of my life and during the darkest corners "in my mind".  I didn't even have to ask, they just helped me, and guess what? They did it with a servant's heart and didn't tell anyone about it.  I love you "my lovely ladies".  I only hope I have the chance to reciprocate or help someone else in need, that is hurting, that is paralyzed in fear, emotions, grief or whatever they are going through and help them.  I don't want to be the person on the other end of the conversation telling the details of what someone needed to do for me, that I could NOT do for myself, and seem to take pleasure in the telling of it.  I want to serve with a servant's heart and love with a Jesus heart.

I know I have a long way to go.  I am a work in progress. As the saying goes "Be patient with me God isn't finished with me yet".  We are all works in progress.  Let's be kind to each other, love each other, help each other, and do it without the guilty pleasure of talking smack.

Let's be friends and love one another

friend

   /frɛnd/ Show Spelled[frend] Show IPA

noun

1.

a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

2.

a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: friends of the Boston Symphony.

3.

a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile: Who goes there? Friend or foe?

4.

a member of the same nation, party, etc.

Backwards facing Forward

This has been a horribly lonely week for me.  Actually I have been lonely since we got back from Colorado.  Making that drive this time was almost as hard as it was last year when we moved here.  I was still without Mel, and I am still very lonely for him.

This week our little poodle/terrier mix dog Zoie died.  I had put Zoie and Sugar on leashes in the kitchen with a blanket for them to sleep on.  I have left them in the kitchen like this before.  Sometime during the night they became so entangled in the leashes that Zoie was strangled and Sugar had the leashes wound so tightly around her right hind leg so tightly that I thought she might lose the leg.  I had to use Cutco garden shears to cut the leashes apart to get them off the dogs, that's how tight they were.  I could not believe Zoie was dead.  I was so mad at myself for leaving them in the kitchen.  Luckily Sugar's leg has improved to where she is now using it.  I called Lois that morning to tell her what had happened.  The kids were still asleep, and I didn't want them to wake up to see Zoie dead on the kitchen floor.  Soon there was a knock on the back door, and it was Lois.  She had come and dug a grave for Zoie behind the garage.  I wrapped her in one of Nicole's baby blankets, and Lois took her out and buried her.  I was so grateful for this act of kindness.  It reminded me of the time I was staying with Lois and her black lab Maggie got hit by a car and died while Lois was in town.  I dug her grave and buried her for Lois before she had to see what she looked like.  I was so comforted by this single act of love and kindness. 

I went to the doctor this week for my yearly physical.  Seeing her made me realize how much better I feel daily than I did when I first saw her several months ago.  She said she could see a vast improvement in my demeanor, so why do I still feel to crappy.

I have suffered from depression for most of my adult life (and probably before then). I had taken antidepressants for years, but quit taking them a year or so before I met Mel.  I did fine off of them until Mel's cancer was diagnosed.  My doctor had to put me on two different antidepressants to manage my depression and to help me try to function in the war zone called cancer.  Of course, when Mel died my depression increased lots, or I think it did.  Sometimes I think it was just the grief that made me feel so much more depressed.  There were many times over the past year without Mel that I have thought about taking my own life.  I had always thought this was such a selfish act, but I can now see why people resort to suicide.  It scares me to know that I have been that close to making that decision, and I thank God for my kids and my faith and His guidance because those are the things that have kept me from doing the unthinkable.  It's also a hard thing to admit.  There were days I felt so bad that I couldn't believe I was alive.  I didn't think it was possible to feel so horrible and still be alive and breathing.  I can't say functioning because there were many days when I could not function.  I wish people understood more about grief, but I realize now that knowledge only comes with experience, experience no one wants to list on their resume of life. 

So where do I go from here? I thought I was doing so well, and now I've been knocked down again, only not so far down as before.  I guess I keep facing forward even when I feel like I am moving backward.  That's why I pray and thank God for the things I have learned this past year or so.

This is a picture of my mom, Nicole and Zoie the day we brought Zoie home.

Modesty

When did it become so appropriate for people to flaunt their bodies everywhere they go with little thought of what that says about them?  Yesterday in Spokane the kids and I drove by a coffee shop.  There was a very scantily clad young "lady" out in front with either a very bright red bra or a very skimpy bright red bikini top and the shortest pair of jean shorts possible, and she was standing on the sidewalk flagging people down for business.  Made me wonder if it's really just a "coffee house".

I see it everywhere I go.  Young girls dressed in clothing that is so inappropriate I wonder what is wrong with their parents that they will pay for their girls to dress in this kind of crap.  I also wonder about the boys who walk around with their jeans falling off to show off their underwear.  I heard that trend started in jail because when you go to jail they take your belt away from you so you don't use it to hurt yourself or others.  I guess I have just never been interested in dressing like a jail inmate.

It also is very hard to buy clothes that are modest and what I consider to be appropriate for Nicole to wear.  The new jeans are cut so that they ride so low on the waist that when the girls bend over you see their butt crack.  I thought that was reserved for plumbers.  I finally had to buy Nicole some half t-shirts that fit around her waist and hang down under her shirts so she can cover up her crack.  I just don't understand why that should be a feature in clothing.

Then there are the "bootie shorts" I see girls wearing.  They even wear them to school here.  I especially dislike the ones that have words across the butts of them. My dad would have never let me out the door looking the way some girls dress.  I also can't believe that the school doesn't have a stricter dress code or at least enforce the one they have.  Some of the girls even wear their slippers to school.  I guess Wal-Mart isn't the only place you can go to look at embarrassing wardrobes people choose.

Earlier this year Nicole quit dance class because of some of the costumes that were chosen for the girls to dance in.  When they had a rehearsal and were supposed to bring all of the items they were supposed to wear and change into for each dance, she was told that her shorts were not short enough and that her shirt was not tight enough.  It's pretty sad (to me at least) that an instructor of any sort would want to have students wear costumes that are so revealing.  After all they are only schoolgirls.  Then there was the number where they had T-shirts to write on that said sexy and I know it that were worn under zipped up hoodies until the end of the number when they unzipped the hoodies to reveal their shirts.  I was proud that Nicole refused to be a part of this class and felt comfortable enough and confident enough about herself to just quit and say this is not for me.

I don't expect a lot of people to agree with me, but it is an instruction in the bible to not clothe yourself in a way so as to attract unwanted attention.  The bible instructs that our focus should be on God and not on the effect we can have on others by showing ourselves scantily clad to them.  I feel it is very harmful for the young girls of today to have this kind of image. I think they need to be taught and know that they are worth so much more than what they wear.  They need to know that it is not necessary to show so much skin that they are found to be attractive by "the other sex".  I also think it is harmful for our young men to look at these girls every day.  Boys are so stimulated by things visual that these images stay with them forever.  There is a Sunday school song the kids in the nursery sing that says:

"Be careful little eyes what you see, by careful little ears what you hear, be careful little mouth what you say, be careful little hands what you do because the Father up above is looking down in love, so be careful little eyes what you see, by careful little ears what you hear, be careful little mouth what you say, be careful little hands what you do."

I want Nicole and Daniel to know that who they are is not defined by how they dress or by how others perceive them to be.  All children should know that they were created by God exactly the way they are, and it doesn't matter what other people or society sees when they look at them.  I want them to know that they don't need to expose their bodies to get attention from anyone for anything.

Another Move

The kids and I recently returned to Washington after spending the month of June in Pueblo, Colorado.  We had a wonderful time visiting all our friends and staying with my parents.  We also had the pleasure of attending the wedding of one of my favorite cousins, Diana (Annie).  It was a wonderful day for them, and though it was a bit hard for me to be at a wedding (the first since I lost Mel), it was a moving experience for me to witness what God has done in my family over the course of the last 30+ years.  My brother, cousin, and I used to be quite the partiers.  Since then we have all committed our lives to Jesus Christ, and my brother actually performed the marriage ceremony.  It was a proud moment for me to witness him doing this.  He also joked that when it was time to ask for objections, he would have to be the one to object because Diana and Andy (my brother) always said they were going to marry each other.

During this trip home I also experienced sadness at seeing how old my parents are getting.  You never think of that growing up, but one day you look at them and realize they are getting more frail and more forgetful and more tired, and the list goes on.  My mom has lost a lot of weight and is very shaky at times.  My dad is stiff with arthritis from all the hard labor he has done over the years.  I looked at them and and knew I had to go back to Colorado.  The biggest reason is that I don't want my kids to lose the time they have left on this earth to be together, and I have such a feeling of gratitude to them for what they have helped me endure over the past few years.  They were my rock and security dealing with Mel's diagnosis, his surgery, all the trips to Denver and ultimately his death.  They would never expect this of me or ask me to pick up and move to help care for them in their later years, but I feel like it would be an honor for me to care for them, and it will also help teach my kids that family is important and you care for them when they are unable to care for themselves.  All this being said, we will be putting our home in Odessa on the market, and when it sells we will be moving back to Colorado, and we are praying for a quick sale. It will be a bittersweet move just like the move me made to come to Washington.  I will miss my family here and all the wonderful friends I have made who have helped me to heal and who have loved us so much this past year.

My "M"other friends and Mother's Day

I used to be so envious of Mother's on Mother's Day, even though my nieces always remembered me on Mother's Day.  It just wasn't the same as having a child of my own.  I used to just cry and ask God why I hadn't been blessed with a husband and a family of my own.  When I was single and at family events where everyone was married and had their own family, I always felt lonely and left out.  I always seemed to want what I didn't have.  Then I was blessed with Mel.  We got pregnant seven months after we got married, the first time we tried.  My nieces Cora and Amanda were staying with me, and I went to the store to get a home pregnancy test, and it was positive. I couldn't believe it so I went to the store and got another one, and once again it was positive.  I was so sure that it had been way too easy and quick to get pregnancy I dragged the girls back to the store again and purchased ANOTHER pregnancy test.  Miraculously it hadn't changed in the 30 minutes or so since the last one had said positive.  I remember Cora and Amanda asking me "Aunt Patty why do we keep going back to the store and buying the same box".  Well not to take things for granted or anything, the next week when I went back to work I had a blood test done, and guess what it was POSITIVE too. 

I was a crazy woman.  I just COULD NOT believe that my second lifelong dream (the first being a wife) had come true.  I called Mel at work, and believe it or not he wasn't shocked.  Seems he believed the first three home tests I did.  I couldn't wait to tell people, especially my parents.  They were so excited for us.  They knew my dream had always been to have a baby of my own to love and care for, my "forever family".

I was pretty sick with morning sickness for the first four months.  What they don't tell you in What to Expect When You're Expecting is that morning sickness isn't just for morning.  For me it lasted all day.  I don't know why when a mother has a daughter she doesn't write a manual about these things, or about the guilt you feel every time the baby gets hurt, or the guilt you feel when you have to leave your baby to go back to work, or just the general "Ought to know" things.  I asked my mom about this, and she said she would never have written such a manual for fear that she would never become a grandmother.  She is a wise woman.

When I went to my first OB appointment, Mel couldn't get off work to go with me.  They did a transvaginal ultrasound.  I was a little confused when the nurse came rushing in with an ultrasound machine that had a drawer full of condoms in it, but I soon learned what they were for.  I had no idea what a transvaginal ultrasound was before that, and I thought "man they should hand out condoms before you get to this point".   The very second Nicole's little body lit up on that screen, and her heart was beating I was just in such AWE that the love Mel and I shared had created a child for us, on loan from God, to raise up in the way of the Lord.

I went back to work in tears.  Everyone thought I had gotten bad news, but I was just so humbled and grateful to have been so blessed.  I faxed copies of the ultrasound to Mel and my mom at work.  Mom still has the copy I faxed her.  When Mel got home, he just wrapped his arms around me and we both cried.  We were both thrilled.  Mel was so good to me during my pregnancy and while I had "morning sickness".  He was so patient and kind and did so many little things just to make my days easier.  

Since I was 37 years old when I got pregnant, the doctor wanted us to do genetic testing, but we told her we didn't want to do that.  We knew that no matter what any test might show, this was our baby, we already loved "her", and that nothing would make us change our minds about continuing with the pregnancy.  I told Mel that I just wanted to enjoy being pregnant, I didn't want to think about those things, I just wanted to soak up every minute of having a baby growing inside of me.  What an awesome gift God has given to women, what an honor, and what a responsibility.  Once my morning sickness ended, I loved every minute of being pregnant.  The most magical feeling in the world is the first time you feel your tiny baby moving around inside of your womb.  I loved wearing maternity clothes and everyone touching my belly.  I loved people asking me when I was due, why was I so big, was I having twins, was my doctor sure of my due date? I only gained 19 pounds when I was pregnant but my goodness I was huge. 

Mel and I had decided to invite my mom to be with us when Nicole was born.  We didn't find out the sex of the baby.  We wanted to be surprised.  I went into labor on Sunday, April 18, 1999 at 6:30 p.m. and Nicole finally arrived at 7:03 a.m. on April 19, 1999.  The joy, the unbelievable overwhelming joy that overcame me.  I felt like I must be the only woman who had ever felt that way, but of course I know that millions of women have had that joy, but to me it felt like for a moment in time I was the only one.  When Mel carried her to me to hold her for the first time, I just sobbed I was so overwhelmed with the goodness of God and the love He had shown Mel and I for allowing us to care for one of His precious children.  It was awesome having my mom with us.  I will never forget Dad coming to the hospital before he had to go to work.  He went in the nursery with Mel while they were dressing Nicole and getting ready to bring her back in to my room.  He hugged me with tears in his eyes and told me how beautiful she was.  Of course I already knew that.

With Daniel our experience was of course different, because we were blessed by God through the miracle of adoption, but all the feelings of joy and overwhelming love for Daniel was exactly the same that we felt with Nicole.  We were always in such awe that out of all the people who are searching for a newborn baby to adopt that God chose us to be Daniel's parents and Nicole to be his sister.  The best thing about Daniel was how God showed us how our love just multiplied over and over, and that no matter what we were his family.

I found out yesterday that I think I miss Mel the most on Mother's Day.  You see without me first being Mel's wife, I never would have been the mother of his children.  My marriage and becoming a mother were absolutely the most important life changing events in my life.  Mel and I both reevaluated ourselves when Nicole was born and really committed our lives and hers, and subsequently Daniel's, to the Lord. 

It is definitely bittersweet when you have been blessed by the absolute best God has to give you, and then the time comes when the best God had to give you is returned back to Him.  I have several dear and special friends dealing with, or having had to deal with, the fatality of their unborn children, the news that their unborn children may likely pass away before they ever have a chance to hold them, or losing precious babies just a few days after they were born.  Grief is such a consuming emotion with these sorts of things.  The anger, pain and betrayal that you feel towards God is just unfathomable.  You just simply cannot wrap your mind around God blessing you with your heart's desire and then for whatever reason these blessings turn to heartache and loss in the blink of an eye. 

My heart aches for my dear friends dealing with these issues, and yes my heart still absolutely aches from the loss of my precious Mel. I love you all so much, my heart aches with yours, I shed tears with you, and beseech God for answers on your behalf and for my own.  I know that my family and the joining of these other special families has been brought about by God.  You see we need each other.  We share the kind of grief that is all consuming, we share the burdens of each others, we search God for answers and for the right words to say to each other, but most of all we try our best to trust that God does know what He is doing and support each other with that knowledge.  Kelly and Diego, Erin and Kerry, Deanna and Butch, we all share a special bond of love and grief that brings people together to try to find the goodness of God in the worst of situations.  I love you all, and all of you have helped me grieve my loss, you have listened to me, you have supported me, I know you have prayed for me, but most of all you have just loved me.  I hope in some small way I have been a comfort to all of you in your times of turmoil and grief.  I can't wait to see you all and hug you and share tears and prayers with you in person.  It is in that way that we can begin to heal. 

Grief is not something you ever get over.  It is something that reshapes your life, your perspectives, your views on life, the importance of being so immersed in the love of  God and loved by people who love God, and this is how we can walk through grief, but never over it.

One day we will all be reunited with those we have known here on earth and with those precious ones God took home before we had time to love and know here on earth.  Praise God for the gift of Eternal Life, and the best part is that we have all chosen Him and will be forever friends.  I am blessed beyond measure by the knowledge of that.  I love you all so much.

Buyer's Remorse

Have you ever bought something and as soon as you got home with it regretted buying it? I know I have, sometimes I don't even make it to the car before I regret buying it.

I think buyer's remorse extends far beyond the price tag of an item we purchase in the store.  It extends to all aspects of our lives. There have been many times in my life when I seemed to accept ANYTHING anyone said to me as the truth, even though logically I knew it wasn't.  I have accepted lies from Satan and have followed his stinking path even though I knew it was against God's law. 

I think one of the biggest things we do that we regret, at least for me, is that I expect that people tell me something they mean it and it is the truth.  There is a high price to pay when you lose the trust in someone you trusted or they lose the trust in you that they had. 

Some things have happened in my life that I just couldn't, and still can't, believe that I have done to people or people have done to me.  Most of them are very childish but yet we hold them up as if they are high prized items (grudges to hold on to).  I especially get confused when I have seemingly done things that have hurt people, and I truly don't know what the transgression is, and they don't seem to have the need or courage to talk to me and tell me what's wrong.  I can be pretty good at this myself, and this is one thing I consciously try to avoid doing to people.  I have figured out if I want people to be honest with me I have to be honest with them.  We have to remember with honesty we won't always hear what we want to hear.

Then there are times in life when you tell the truth and other people choose, for whatever reason, not to believe you.  The only thing you can do then is stand on the truth you have told because you can't control whether or not people believe you.  Sometimes they don't believe you because they simply can't comprehend that someone they care about has said or done the things that you have told them about.

There are also times in life when a line is drawn in the sand, and both sides are so opposite of each other that each party finds it very hard to cross that line because doing so would mean having to accept you were wrong or at least you could have been wrong.  I especially find this hard to deal with when my kids are involved because like any mother I will stand on my side of the line with them when I know they are telling the truth or if they have had to make a hard decision because of hurtful things being done or said to them.

Sometimes I think, wow what if we could get our "money" back on these kinds of items like we can when we return something to the store for a refund.  The only way I know of doing that is through confessing and asking forgiveness from Jesus Christ.  We have to be careful to not have our hearts harden when these things happen, but we also have to learn to protect our hearts when they are hurt.  Teaching kids to have remorse and to ask for forgiveness is a job all parents should endeavor.  There is no comparison to that remorse and forgiveness when compared to the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ.  You see grace is not required and should only be given when there is no other way around it.

There are some big things in my life that I have buyer's remorse for, and most of them have happened in the last three years.  I wish I could have bought Mel a new heart, a new kidney, new intestines, new liver, new lungs.  I wish we could have gone to the hospital and just exchanged them for new ones.  I wish I never would have had to say a final goodbye to him.  I wish I didn't have to accept God's will that he take Mel home to cure him.  I wish I would not have had to make the decision to move when I did.  They say you should never make that kind of a decision for at least a year after your spouse has died.  I moved to Odessa exactly 10 weeks after Mel had passed away.  Somedays I like it here, I like the friends that I have made, I love my neighbors, I love our church, and I love the safety I feel here for my kids.  I don't like that I left my friends, my church, my parents and my home and everything that was familiar to me in one fell swoop.  I don't like that my kids had to go through that too.

But in life there are no refunds on major decisions made in the hour of grief, on words that are said that can't be unsaid, on actions that can't be undone, fatal diseases that take the ones you love the most, not having the relationships you thought you would have in life, and all kinds of other things. 

I can tell you though that sometimes "I want my money back", I want a refund, I want to go back to my old life, my comfortable life with Mel that was not a daily struggle trying to be happy, and to a life where my kids had their daddy.

Labor of love

13 years ago tonight I was in labor waiting for our precious daughter to be born.  I never dreamed 13 years could go so fast.  It seems like yesterday I was just meeting her for the first time.  I never thought I could have more love in my heart for her than on that day when Mel first put her in my arms, but my love for her has grown with each day of her life.  The people who know her and love her, and those who have taken the time to get to know her, adore her.  She is a true gift from God.  I know as sure as I will take my next breath that Nicole would NEVER hurt anyone, and is very repentant if she thinks she has.  Some people may think that I think she is perfect, and she is in the respect that she is a perfect creation from God.  I know that her behavior or attitude are not always perfect, but then whose is.

She loves her family and friends fiercely and with all of her heart.  She bubbles over with love for her family, her friends and her pets.  She loves animals, which I am sure she gets from me.  She has the easygoing nature and spirit that her daddy had.  She has his long legs too, and she often reminds me that soon she will be taller than me.  She loves her nanny and papa with a love that is great.  Her nanny (my mom) was with her dad and I for her delivery.  It was so special to me having my husband on one side of me and my mom on the other side of me.  It is magical watching the woman who gave birth to me, watching me give birth to our baby.  It was a wonderful night and next morning.  Nicole was born at a little after 7:00 a.m. on April 19, 1999. 

Nicole shines with the light of her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  She loves Him with all of her heart.  She loves to read her bible and memorize scripture.  She prays for every need that she hears about.  If an ambulance or police car goes by we all pray for those officers and the people they are going to help. She leads a bible study for the kids of the women's bible study I attend every Tuesday.  She reads them bible stories and has pictures for them to color and tells them about Jesus.

Nicole is generous to a fault.  If she has money to spend, she will most of the time spend more on others than she will on herself.  She is very generous with Daniel.  She adores her brother and spoils him with treats and little gifts every chance she gets.

I feel sad for the people who know her that don't see her sweet spirit, her lovings ways and her genuine kindness for others.  I think anyone who does not sense her inner kindness and sweetness is someone who has no concept of a Spirit filled, Jesus serving young girl, and a girl with a pure heart.  Again, I know she is not perfect, but she will admit when she has done wrong and is very honest and true.  I know I am supposed to feel this way because I am her mom, but I know a lot of other people who feel the same way.  Her daddy and I have always been so very proud of her.

I feel sad for all that she lost in her young life.  I feel sad that I haven't been able to "fix" these things for her.  All I can do is love her, listen to her and protect her from people who are judgmental or unkind towards her.  Her life has been forever changed by watching her daddy grow ill from cancer and ultimately dying in our home, but I also know that her life is forever changed by the love her daddy gave her while he was on this earth.  He adored her, and she him.  He bought her her first diamond.  He bought her a heart pendant for Christmas several years ago that has a diamond in it and told me that he wanted to be the first man to ever give her diamond.  He knew how important it was for a little girl to fall in love with her daddy.  I know that he set such a good example to her of how a husband should love his wife and family that she will be ready for the prince God has already chosen for her to spend her life with.

So Happy Birthday Nicole, my colie bug, my precious and beautiful daughter, Daddy's little girl and Daniel's big sissy.  We all love you so much.

Grief Letter

So here it goes.  I went to GriefShare support group last year, started it only two weeks after Mel died.  I just restarted it last Monday.  Our lesson this week is to write a grief letter to my  family and friends to understand what I am going through and what my grief feels like.

Dear Family and Friends:

First of all I would like to thank all of you have supported me this past year.  I never would have made it to this point in my grief without you.  My hopes in writing this letter now will put into perspective why I have done some of the things I have done, why I feel the way I do, how hard this has been for me and also to help you know what to say or do for people who are grieving.  Everyone's grief is unique to that certain person, and everyone's needs vary, but in general there are some things that can be said and done for anyone going through the loss of a loved one.

What has not helped me is hearing "it will get better", "he is still with you", "time heals all wounds", "you sleep too much", "your depression is out of control", "you are jeopardizing the well-being of your children by being so depressed and overcome with grief", "you need to cut your losses and get on with your life".

These words are not helpful simply because there is no way I can imagine my life without Mel in it, even today, a year later.  To me it will never get better, but I know it will get tolerable, and somehow I will learn to live with a "new normal".  Time does not heal wounds, it helps decrease the pain, but then the wounds re-open over and over again each time a new "first" or an old "first" happens.  I have learned that grief comes in waves like the ocean rolling in and out and over you.  I know I sleep a lot, but I had not slept a full night in over three years when Mel died, and I still spend many nights sleeplessly turning everything over and over in my mind.  My depression is not really any worse than it had been when Mel was sick, but grief is definitely an "additive" to depression, and is like nothing I have ever felt in my life.  I have never jeopardized my children in any area.  They are loved and taken care of.  Yes sometimes we stay in bed and watch TV, somedays it is all we can do to just get through the day.  You see they have "bad" days too, and I have to be sure to catch those to help them deal with this loss too.  I can't just get on with my life as if my life with Mel never happened or mattered.

Here are some specific things that can help:  Call and chat, be a good listener, say I am sorry you feel this way, I am here for you day or night.  Send random text messages or emails or cards, they mean a lot.  Pray for me, and let me know that you are praying for me and my kids.  On my kids' birthdays, our anniversary, my birthday, Mel's birthday, mother's day, father's day, and other holidays acknowledge that you know it is hard.  Ask if there is something you could do to help me.  Hug me and hug me again.  Sometimes that speaks louder than words.  Even if I cry, please listen to my story.  I will probably have to tell it over and over again until it sounds ok to me.  Please talk to me about Mel.  Ask what he liked to do, eat, talk about or even tell me if you miss him.  Again, I will probably cry, but the tears are not to keep you from talking to me or me telling you things I want you to hear.

My friend Deanna had these things to say that really expressed what I have been trying to do and what it has felt like to lose my husband:

While I recognize that you have never suffered through a loss as devastating as losing your husband, I hope you can put yourself in her shoes for just a moment. Patty has lost her best friend, her lover, her companion, her parenting partner, her financial partner, and her spiritual leader. None of us can imagine that loss until we experience it. I can tell you that Patty is doing the very best she can under the circumstances.
Patty and Mel discussed for almost two years how he would want her to carry on if the worst happened. Choices such as home-schooling Nicole as long as she desired to be home-schooled were well thought out, with much prayer. I believe that God has given Patty alone the unique insight to raise Nicole and Daniel. She will always do what she believes God has lead her to do for their best interests, but it hurts her when she feels like others don't think she is doing a good job as a mother.

She offered the following advice on specific things that you can do to help while people are grieving:
 
 Unconditional love is the most important thing she needs right now. Not that you need to agree with every choice she makes, but just to offer her words of love and encouragement to get through the day. Send her an "I love you" text, a card, some encouraging words. Give her a call when she comes to mind. Order a pizza to her house one evening so she doesn't have to cook (Deanna obviously has not been to Odessa, or she would know this is not an option). There are so many practical things that we as her family and friends can do to come along side of her and support her.

My cousin Debra had the following to say:

Personally we share with the weighing of whether we are too personal; in the middle of my grief who do I need to comfort when I share; maybe I just don't want to share today or ever; and on and on... And then when our loved ones are grieving all we want is for them to be better and we are helpless to make it better. We may listen. We change the subject. We don't bring up the subject up. And we prescribe a course of action that we think will help...and not even time heals...only Father knows the heart, and the pain, and the course it takes. And He knows that we fumble around in our grief and avoid aspects of it and are angry and...that list goes on, too! God is not even surprised by any ways that we who are grieving and we who are comforting are...we just are and He leads us as we let Him.

Patty, we all love you so much. We all wish we coul take the pain away. None of us are much experienced in comforting you so please forgive us when we get it wrong. I remember when Ron and I loss our triplets...you were so sweet to me! And all through the time when we struggled to have babies you never said...just relax...maybe you should adopt...etc. You listened. As we fumble around and try to do our best know above all else that we love you and we just want you to be better. Sometimes we will hit Bingo!!!, and sometimes it will be bingo but at the wrong time, and, unfortunately sometimes what we have to offer may hit you like thud...but we love you. If an important anniversary date or a special date is coming up let us know. That way you won't feel like we didn't remember (which of course we didn't :)) and we won't feel like bums because we forgot and didn't know.

I have also learned that I have a responsibility to let people know when I am particularly hurting or need some extra "hugs". 

Here is what my GriefShare describes the loss of a spouse:

A part of who you are is gone. Your identity is shaken to the very core. You wonder if you will ever feel normal again or if you will ever enjoy life again.

"When you lose a mate, you lose part of yourself," says Dr. Jim Conway. "It's as if you've had an amputation of an arm or a leg. I think that you don't really recover; you adjust, and the process of adjusting varies with every individual. There's no formula."

The pain that comes from the loss of a spouse is much deeper than most people realize because in a marital relationship two people become one flesh.

"The man said, 'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called "woman," for she was taken out of man.' For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh" (Genesis 2:23-24).

When part of your flesh is abruptly taken away, there is a ripping and a tearing that leaves a huge, open wound.

"Until you have experienced the death of a spouse, there is no way you can tell someone how deep the hurt is. The Lord says that we are one flesh, and suddenly half of that flesh is torn from us," says Beth.

For me losing Mel was devastating.  I think the hardest part was that we had had such faith that God was going to heal Mel and we would have more time together.  I felt very betrayed by God (still do sometimes) that he had taken Mel from me and left me alone to do the things we had wanted to do together.  I loved Mel so much.  He was always so kind to me, and I never doubted his love for me.  I am trying to learn that Mel's death was not something "God did to me".

I guess through all of this I just want you all to know that even when I have been hurt by some of you I know that you love me.  I know this is not an easy thing to be on "either end of".  Grief is hell.  It can devour you if you let it.  If I didn't have my kids to take care of, it would have been very easy for me to let it devour me. 

One of the hardest things about not having Mel is that I am "on" 24/7 with my kids.  While I love them to the ends of the earth and back, there are times that I would love to have time to myself.  I question the decisions I make, and I always try to think what Mel would say about what to do in certain situations. 

I know that day by day my feelings change, my highs and lows change, but the thing that never changes is that I love my friends and family.  I want you to know that all in all I think you have all done a pretty good job of helping me without knowing what to do to help me. 

I am truly blessed by God.  Love you all Patty.