Happy Mothers' Day! (UK Version)

I quickly popped open Facebook this morning before I got in the shower and there was all these "Happy Mothers' Day" posts. In my sleep~deprived mind, it doesn't hit that it's only March and we celebrate in May.

After my shower, I call my mother to wish her a Happy Mothers' Day. She was really wondering if there was something she didn't know because my brother had just called her to do the same thing. She was laughing when I told her it was in the U.K. where it's celebrated today. She was going to call my brother later on to let him in on the joke.

That got me thinking. Why can't we celebrate the love of the ones who mean the most to us while we have the chance? We aren't guaranteed another breath in this horrid veil of tears we call "life." Athena knows I've been slapped upside the head with that enough to last several turns of the wheel. I've lost more of the ones who I've loved the most than I can even bare to think about. The snap of a finger and it could be more.

I'm having surgery again next week. It's supposed to be a simple same~day procedure on my knee, but it was scheduled several months ago and since then, I've had a few nasty spills and one put me to the floor because my knee would no longer support my weight. I'm not afraid to leave hell. I know where I'm going. I see it so clearly in my mind, it seems like I can just take a step and be there. The ones I love are waiting for me. My place in the Summerlands is assured. My little cottage in the woods, covered in vines and filled to the top with all my furry friends are waiting at the Rainbow Bridge for me to come get them.

I had a near~death experience once. I don't tell too many people about it because people don't know how  to take it. Some will believe, some will say it was my oxygen~deprived mind just projecting images from the past, but I know the truth. I was in ICU after a massive surgery. I'm very claustrophobic and kept taking the oxygen mask off that was keeping me breathing and pushing the pain-pump as often as possible. I can hear the skeptics from here, but give me my moment. My mother was at my bedside, she rarely left me. I knew she was there on my right side, but I felt a presence on the left and looked over. There was my precious, beloved Adonis. My faithful companion in life and now it seemed he was keeping the faith and was ready to lead me away from all the pain and torture. He looked the same as this last photo of him, right before I betrayed him in the worst way.

I turned to him and tore off the my face and turned to him and just starting talking. I was begging him to forgive me. I had to make a horrible decision earlier that year and had to let him go to the Bridge. I still feel like it was the worst betrayal in the world. He trusted me completely. He was looking in my eyes when he took his last breath. It was my essence he breathed in, my eyes he saw, my hands holding him and stroking his silky head. It was my voice, telling him how much I loved him and hoped he could forgive me. Then I went into our daily routine. I trained him in German and that's what I spoke to him at the end. "Ich leibe dich, meine leibchen."  I begged him not to leave me and to stay or take me with him. I was so sorry, I wish it didn't happen. He just looked at me with his beautiful eyes and put his head on my bed and just waited. I heard my mother crying. She knew I wasn't talking to her and there was no one else in the room that she could see. She doesn't understand any German. She knew who I was seeing and knew I was failing. All of that was in the back of my mind, but the pain was so great, I just wanted it all to stop.

I've been in constant pain for over 20 years, after a botched spinal nerve block, during an emergency C-Section. Since then, the pain in my head rarely goes away. I have spent so many days in the hospital, hooked up to pain pumps, just to keep my head from exploding. Then the daily medicine and emergency rescue shots. I can't give myself shots, so my husband will give them if he's here. If he's not around, my son has to come and give the shots. He's only 20. He had to learn how to give his mother injections when he was only 10 years old. Far too young for such a huge responsibility. He's not like other kids his age and never has been. He has a genius IQ, but we don't have the "right" name, so they thought he needed Special Education and was put in with the kids with lower IQs. He hated going to school and begged me to take him out and homeschool him because his sister was homeschooled. I went to the school and they had me sign a paper that it was against "Professional" advice that I removed him from special ed and I knew the risks. The funny part, if it was so sad and pathetic is, the next week, he was given an IQ test and immediately put in the Gifted Program. He wasn't given an apology and neither was I. The local school has been a total nightmare for us. I was never so happy as seeing my son get his diploma and know he never had to deal with those "professionals" again. When he was asked to be a pallbearer at his cousin's funeral, I asked him if he could handle that and he didn't have to. He was only 10 years younger than the man he would carry on his last trip. He had held my hand when his cousin was taken off life support, so I knew his strength, but even a diamond can break under pressure. He looked at me and said, "If I don't do it, who will?" Two days later, he helped carry Bobby to his final rest. That was our Thanksgiving last year.

I suppose for those who have made it this far and thinking I'm a bit nuts by now. Probably a little, but in 2015, who isn't?  I'll wrap it up with this: Celebrate each moment, live life to its fullest and never forget to tell the people you love just that. Don't wait til they are gone. Bring flowers for no reason other than you love them. Call, text, email, send smoke signals, whatever you have to do to let those you love the most know it and celebrate every day. That's what this whole rambling post is about. Just remember to say I love you, in any language, just say it. Standing at the bedside of an empty, broken shell is too late.

Just a cousin??

The past week and a half has been a total nightmare for my family and myself. I keep trying to wake up from it, but nothing works. I have to accept it's my new reality. A reality where my 37-year old cousin Bobby is no longer with us. Writing that sentence is impossible to do, but I managed it somehow. I loved him with all my heart and soul. We were 9 years apart, but that never mattered.

I received a condolence call a couple days after his mother was strong enough to turn the machines off and let his broken body release his soul. Keeping him on it would be cruel. He'd never laugh, smile, talk, walk or even acknowledge we were there. A single car accident took that away. I hope, if the day comes where I'm in that bed, my husband will be so kind to me.

Growing up, I didn't know that everyone's best friends were their cousins. I didn't care that I didn't have anyone in the neighborhood to play with because I had my cousins. We were always together. Our entire family was always together. Except for my dad's one week of vacation where it was my parents, brother and I going somewhere, that truck was filled with three generations of our family going to Niagara Falls, a county fair, amusement parks or wherever we happened to go. To us, that was normal, we honestly didn't know everyone didn't live the same way. We always received the same gifts for Christmas, went the same places, did the same things. It was how we were raised.

When we were almost 3, my brother joined the gang and he was just another person to be with. My aunt had a second family, two more girls and a boy (our Bobby) when we were 9. I babysat the three of them for a few years, then they pulled away because of outside problems. That is my biggest regret to this day ~~ I didn't get to have the years with them like I did my other two cousins.

As adults, the world runs different and after my grandma and grandpa left the world, the family wasn't as close. When my great aunt and uncle left us, it fractured the family. Weeks, months would go by and I wouldn't see them or even know where they were. It broke my heart, but I knew deep down if I needed them, a phone call would get them here.

March 3, 2006, our world was destroyed when the first born into the next generation was killed in a car wreck on his way to school. Michael was only 17. That horror brought us back together where we knew where we needed to be and it stayed that way for many more years. Then slowly life pulled us apart again, until this Thanksgiving when another one~car accident took another of us. We piled in three cars and drove to Ohio to be there for a final good bye and to let him know we were never really apart and never would be. I had my hand on his chest for the final heartbeat, holding his sister. I'll never get over it. None of us will.

It's like a part of my body has been cut out. There's a piece missing and I can't get it back. I walk around in a daze, not really getting anything done and not caring. Who cares that the dishes aren't done? Bobby is gone. I thought letting my thoughts flow would help let some of the pain go away. I'm not sure typing and crying is what I need, but it's what I have to do. Writing has always been my way of coping.

Back to the call. I'm sure she meant well, but it was like a punch in the gut when she said that offensive sentence, "Well, you're lucky, he was ONLY your cousin." I pity her and those like her who don't have a family they can call on and have on your doorstep in minutes. Ones that would drop everything and come to your side. Even when we don't see each other daily or even weekly, I still know one call will bring an army to my door that nothing can break. Yes, they are my cousins, but there is no "JUST" about them. Family is family.

Tomorrow is our final chance to see that beloved face and say our "Until we meet against." My yellow rose, a locket and two quarters to pay the Ferryman are with him from my son and myself. We follow the old ways. He also has his Bible and so many photos, friends, awards. The funeral home is filled with photos of him. He was so full of life! He loved fishing, softball, pool, darts, collecting autographs, working with wood (he was a master carver) and his Ford Mustang. I also have a Ford Mustang and he was always laughing that we'd race and his would beat my Betty Lou. We never had a chance to have that race. My body is breaking and I can't do the things I use to. I'm sure he'll be waiting for me and we'll race when I get to the Summerlands.

Until we meet again, Bobby, I'll love you forever and a day.

Frankenweenie

I had planned to see Taken 2 with hubby this weekend, but then our daughter had a disaster of a day. Her best friend blew her off to spend the day with boyfriend and didn't bother to tell her til she was 5 minutes away from picking her up. They were doing the whole girl thing, new hair, nails, lunch and a silly movie. Hubby and I had slightly higher scale plans.

When we ran into each other, she was crying her eyes out and nothing could help. By then, all the beauticians were closing and she couldn't get her hair colored. SIGH! What else could we do? Go see the movie I absolutely did not want to see - Frankenweenie. I had said it from the first preview, I CAN'T SEE THIS MOVIE! I knew better. There are just some things in life, I can't deal with. This movie matter happens to be one of them. I've lose far too many good friends to ever be entertained watching it happen, but she's my daughter and clearly needed me.

I sit down, and the movie starts. OK, not too bad until the baseball scene. Damn that father! Why can't he just be happy to have a smart son? Why does every father think he has the next million dollor baseball player? Of course, the worst happens. The boy's dog, Sparky, loves baseballs and goes chasing the one Victor hit. Car doesn't see the dog. Tears, burial, etc...

That's when the tears started and didn't stop until it was over. Well, til long after it was over. I couldn't eat and almost 12 hours later, I'm still crying. WHY??? Why do we all have to be reminded that losing our best friend is a nightmare we can't wake up from and our idiot parents don't know what they are talking about?

If I thought for one second I could bring back any of my beloveds, I'd be up in the attic with Mom's muffin pan. It can't happen. What comes back isn't what always leaves. My heart is smashed and I'll never get over the last loss. Adonis was the love of my life. He just knew when I needed him and was there. I'll never be able to replace him, even if I wanted to.

Just a little warning before taking your children to this movie - Yes, it has a happy ending, but the other images can't be taken away. Make sure your child knows it's only a movie and it can't happen in real life. If you think there's a chance your child will be confused, don't go to this movie. Go see Hotel Transylvania.

G