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Found 6 results

  1. I finally have my down time, this year has been incredibly hard as I worked most days, evenings and weekends just to make a living wage. The good news in our family is that DD2 is expecting a baby boy in December. Many of you prayed for her when she had fibroid surgery. This is a miracle for her, as the surgeon nearly removed her uterus during that surgery. It is a high risk pregnancy due to the earlier surgery and we expect that she will have a caesarean earlier than the due date. The bad news is that DH has been told that there are no further treatments to help him and that the cancer is progressing. So the known tumours are growing again, a new tumour behind a rib has pushed through and is quite large quite quickly and the left lung which previously had no cancer now has several cancer lesions. To top a horrible visit to oncology they told us that the girls February visit should happen in the next 1 - 2 months and that his care would now be with hospice and that we should accept a hospital bed from them as soon as he needs it. I had been planning to buy an electrical bed in the new year so that our home stayed as a home and did not turn into a hospital. While this is something we are slowly coming to terms with, we are struggling because he is still doing really well. It is a really difficult time for our youngest daughter as her boyfriend is now under palliative care for cancer. While this has been a long time coming, it still is a struggle, but then we realise that he has already defied the doctors several times and maybe it will be the same this time. so how do we deal with it? We believe that God numbers our days, and that science, disease and doctors do not give us that number. If this is his time then we will deal with it, but in the mean time as we have been saying since March 2009 - we are too busy living to have time to think about dying! The positive side is that the church is going to come and see what they can do to help do some of the small jobs around the place.
  2. My friend's gramma is in her 90's. Every special visit is marked by a treat of some sort. Last weekend, she had some mini bagels with different types of cream cheese for her boys loved them and she thought Gramma would too. However, Gramma was a War Bride. She worked in the USO and since then has always thought that special events always need a sweet treat - and coffee with donuts is ALWAYS a good thing. Gramma sits down and fixes up her coffee, takes a bagel and looks at it through her coke-bottom glasses, "My dear, what have you done to this donut? It's so hard!" (picture dear Gram rapping it on the table) "Oh Gram, those are bagels. I got them for the boys." "Sure. You're not pulling one over on me - they don't make bagels this small! Looks like someone left these donuts in fryer too long. (rap, rap, rap) What did you do to the donuts?" Her sweet husband distracted Gramma and my friend set her oldest boy *running* down to the corner market to buy mini-donuts. "Sweetie, here's some money. Get whatever type of mini donuts they have! Run!" So her boy ran and came back in record time. My friend was on the phone in her home office, so her young lad (who is 13) opened the donuts and arranged them on a special plate like he'd seen his Mama do before and dealt with the situaion with the grace of a Man. He went into the dining room, "Hi, Grandma! Here are the donuts! We were playing a joke on you! (laughing) We know how much you like donuts with coffee!" He prattled on an on about the different types and put some each on her plate. With much laughter, they enjoyed the visit. After she left, and my friend posted to FB her decimated table with donut crumbs, bagel bits and used coffee and cocoa cups. Lesson? Price of the mini-donuts? About $6 Time used in distracting Gramma? About 15 minutes Value of a day with family and letting Oldest Step Up? Priceless
  3. Hi everyone, Just wanted to send a request for prayers and an update about my folks. Well, back in December, the Licensed Public Guardian took completely over. The past few months have been a bit of a harsh reality for my folks, for in addition to stopping our financial and physical support during the summer, they have had to cut corners and budget...which is terribly hard for someone with dementia to do. In a nutshell, this past week has been hell. I am so grateful I had the Guardian and her staff in place. On Monday my dad's criminal case came to a head. He took a plea bargain and has a 6 month sentence. He was immediately taken into custody. I got a frantic phone call from my mom late Monday night saying dad was in jail and I needed to get the car. My husband and I drove to their apartment while I had the guardian on the phone. She had NO IDEA this was happening, for the attorney hadn't been in communication with her, neither had dad. We had no idea he was taking the plea bargain and no idea it would happen this week. So. This has left Mom alone - handicapped, blind, and unable to care for herself. The Guardian has been scrambling like mad to have Home Health Care workers come in and assist her with laundry, bedding, and meals. I was there for three days this week. . . and had a couple of melt-downs myself. Tuesday, the house was a wreck, so I and the Health worker cleaned - the kitchen mostly, for I had no idea what they had to eat. Dad said he had needed to get food from the Food Bank because there was no food - but the cupboard and freezers were PACKED. Absolutely jammed full! I threw out two kitchen bags of trash and half a sink full of questionable food down the disposal. So. The guardian will place my mom into assisted living as soon as possible. What caused me to 'snap' this week was my mom's health conditions and the fact that she is in denial about it. She had a case worker come in and do a reassessment - and lied. She said she was showing improvement, NOT needing more help, contrary to my words. Tuesday when I went over, her bed sheets were full of dried waste. We pulled the sheets down to the mattress cover and had to wash it too. The bed will not be savable. I am so glad it will be disposed of - it hasn't been suitable for sleeping in years. The health care worker and I worked our tails off. The next day, I came in to find waste tracked on the carpet down the hall, into both bathrooms, and by the bed. Evidently there was an accident. Not only did she not know about it, but she didn't clean herself up. When I suggested she take a shower, I helped her undress and there was dried waste on her body...from the waste down...down her leg, and into her socks...she had waste between her toes. She assured me she could clean herself and I kept peeking to look. She did, but refused the help of the worker for bathing - something they are SKILLED to provide. I was appalled, shocked, dismayed, horrified, and any other number of terms. I sent an email to the guardian and thankfully, the health care worker showed up and dealt with it while I had a little melt down. When the guardian came later to tell her she had to move into assisted living, she refused to listen. I had to take her hands off her ears, and say, "Mama. you can't stay here. Daddy's social security is what was paying rent and your bills. It goes away while he's in prison and will take a while to get back. You don't have the money to live here. I'm sorry, but you can't live with us we don't have room and I don't have the skills to take care of you." She cried and yelled...and said it was nor fair. I don't think she said it was my fault, but it was implied. The guardian and her assistant have had a heck of a time finding a place for her because they didn't have *TIME*. They needed a few weeks and Dad didn't give them that. So. They will give last month's notice and Mom will be somewhere soon. Meanwhile do you know what nasty job is left? My parent's storage unit. Oh, yes. I knew 18 months ago that it would fall to me and I was right. Well, I'm stronger now and much better equipped to deal with it. Doesn't mean I want to. Dad has communicated that he wants a few things to go a few specific places. I will do my best to honor his request. My husband reminded me that there are people who we know that will do a day's labor here and there for a reasonable sum and I will need to employ them for I will not throw out my shoulder or damage myself in any way. The guardian asked me why I'm doing this and I told her: 1. It's the last way I can honor my parents. I wouldn't want a stranger going through my stuff. 2. I want to see all the financial papers from my childhood (which they've saved) so I can better understand why they've been so financially stupid all of my life, if there can be an explanation for such a thing. 3. There are possessions mixed in with the trash that need sorting. She understood, God bless her. I assured her that I will lay eyes on the storage this weekend and will make a plan of action and get it done. It will be sheer hell, but at least we have a month and not a week like we had cleaning their house a year and a half ago. She did remind me that I was not obligated in any way financially or time-wise. She could call in people to 'take care of things'. I asked her what that meant. She explained. Usually when someone will be moved into assisted living, they take their things with them. Anything left behind is left for the workers to keep or sell. ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. So, you literally have people picking through your stuff like vultures - worse than an estate sale. I said NO. I'll deal with it. Find her a place. My husband and I will pay storage for 6 months on what personals and possessions they need to keep - like the precious things. We will pay for a small unit for 6 months. At $50, we will do that. I also realize that it will be extremely hard on my dad to come back to a different place, with different possessions, with different things. I want to save the important things for him. Also, I'm also very afraid to share this, but as strong of a person as my mom is, assisted living may do her in. Prison will age my dad. I've a very strong feeling that I can't explain that she will hang on for him, they will have a happy reunion, and then within the next year one or both of them will pass on. I can't explain it, I just sense it. I hope to God I'm wrong, but when I've had this type of 'second sight' in the past, I've always been right. So. Over the past week, I've had a couple of melt downs. I had no idea my mom's care was needing to be so intense. I had no idea Dad had covered over so much and was so enabling. I will not step into the caregiver role or rescuer. I will do what I would want someone to do for me - hold my things and respectfully pack my stuff. I will do it out of honor and respect, knowing that they are aging and may not live long. That is all I can do.
  4. I have begged for relief and almost gave up until now and it hit me out of the blue. I think they call it an Epiphany??? I think it's God. Our son came home last weekend to take Crazy Girlfriend to prom. Bro-in-law drove him 18 hrs just to do this....even with my husbands sister supposedly in the hospital....INSANE. He was here from Friday until Sunday and did not come to see anyone. Needless to say there were some heated words exchanged and once again we were really hurt. We are positive that she would not allow him to come over. I even told him I would leave so he could come and see his Dad, little brother and sister. So we sat here on Mother's Day....cancelled any plans we had and waited on him to show which he never did. He would text very hurtful, disrespectful things and I finally told him not to contact me and he said that it was a "final goodbye". I was determined to stick to this for awhile. He continued sending me rude text msgs. A friend of mine gave me a copy of a devotional that she printed of the net and the following statement almost knocked me out of my chair: Do not resist or run from the difficulties in your life. These problems are not random mistakes: they are hand tailored blessings designed for your benefit and growth. When you start to feel stressed let those feelings alert you to your need for Me. Thus, your needs become doorways to deep dependance on Me and increasing intimacy between us. Thank Me for the difficulties in your life since they provide protection from the idolatry of self-reliance. John 15:5, 2 Corinthians 1:8-9, Ephesians 5:20 This spoke to me on every level and have realized some things. First...our son is wanting to be a man but he's still a kid. The reason we don't recognize him and all of this junk he is spewing is because it is not from him. He is taking on the opinions of others....the ones he surrounded himself with to get his way. Nothing would please Crazy Girlfriend and my husband's sister more than to drive an irrepairable wedge in our relationship. I will not allow that to happen. My need to speak my mind and speak up for myself must now take a backseat to saving my relationship with my son. The truth will all come out but it will never be accepted coming from my lips. At this point when I receive a text or something is told to me that hurts or baits me for an argument I will change the subject and never let on that it has bothered me. He will hopefully get his GED on the 17th. I'm going to pray hard that he does and I'm going to do everything in my power to get him started at school in the Fall. I'm sure that they will try to upstage me in this but I will still do what I can and if they do he will still know that I tried. I talked to him yesterday about his plans and offered him things from the house to get him started in an apartment and told him I would get the stuff he needed if he was in a dorm. He seemed suprised. Finally....I realized that this whole situation is hurting us tremendously and we have fought the situation, but maybe God has allowed him to be in this situation to teach him something and by me fighting it I am getting in God's way of teaching our son a life lesson. Who am I to do that? I know how much I love my son and I know that God loves him even more. This is a lesson to me in letting go and letting God handle it. I let go and take it back. God is working here....instead of gloom and doom which is all I have seen....I now see that this is God working. He is changing us and I pray that he is going to work hard and keep our son safe. He is teaching me that I need to put my hand over my mouth and since I have a hard time with that I'm going to ask him to put His hand there until I get it down. When I feel the need to vent...I will go to Him instead of a friend...because noone truly understands but Him and noone can protect or child or help us deal with all of this except Him. So that is my epiphany....I pray that I can keep this attitude.
  5. As I was getting out of the truck I saw her. She was slowly moving around her car to pump gas. My heart started beating ninety to nothing….I had not seen her in three years. I had not spoken to her since the day she told me how I would be responsible for my son being a retard because he was on medication for ADHD. I had not had any contact since I returned her large checks that she sent us for Christmas. That had always been her way of smoothing things over. Now…three years later…here she was… I always looked at my Grandma with awe. She was so beautiful and seemed so smart. I always craved her affection and attention, and I always wanted to please her. The problem was I never could. I’m not the lone ranger…to hear it told my Daddy couldn’t please her either. To hear it told I wonder why she ever had children, because she sure didn’t seem to like Daddy, and she definitely has nothing for me. My parents married out of necessity. Daddy went with Mama to tell her parents that she was pregnant, but he wouldn’t allow her to go with him to tell his. From what I understand my Grandma went nuts. She always thought my Mama was trash because they had no money. She tried to pay Daddy to leave Mama, but he wouldn’t. Probably the only reason he stayed with her was to spite Grandma. Mama moved in with them after they married. I can not imagine what she went through, but she said as soon as I arrived Grandma had changed her tune. She said that she loved me and was so proud of me…then came my brother. My brother has been the apple of her eye as long as I can remember. I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but sometimes I think she went out of her way to prove it. As a little kid I did not understand it, and one day when I was about twelve I asked her. “Mamaw, why do you give him all the attention and I get in trouble for what he does.” Her response was that they had me for four years and I got the attention. It was now his turn. I’m telling you he could slap my face and I would get fussed at. My parents were not well off by any means. They struggled and had it not been for my grandparents we would not have had a lot of things that we had. My Grandma was very ANTI-Name brand. Well, she was for me. I remember in junior high and high school, before clothes shopping at Walmart was acceptable for teenagers, that is where she would take me. I was grateful that she would buy anything for me so I did not complain. Sometimes she would make me put it up if it had a name brand on it.,,.even at Walmart. You can imagine how difficult it was to find things without a label. But I made the best of it…I tried to pick items that pleased her…and tried to show her how much I appreciated it. Then my brother would go the next weekend and he would get alligator boots, and name brand everything. I was scared if I questioned it I would be told I was ungrateful. So I didn’t for a while. In college I started competing in pageants. The first year I entered three and I placed in one. I loved the feel of the stage and performing. My family was very supportive, but after I lost my local competition she made it known that I would NOT enter another one and they would not attend if I did because as she put it she was “tired of jumping every time she poots.” I, of course, did not know that she had said this. The next year I entered again, and it was then that I learned of her remarks and her feelings about it. This was the first time that I remember my parents really acknowledging how she did me. We didn’t say anything about the pageant, but she heard it from an Aunt and then it was on. The next thing I knew my Papaw would not speak to me. I had no idea why. He would literally ignore me and it broke my heart. I asked Daddy and he told me that she told my Papaw that I did not want them at the Pageant and all kinds of stuff that was not true. He wouldn’t listen to anyone that spoke against her or told anything that contradicted what she said. So I suffered. I won that pageant and I represented our town at the State Competition. The woman who did not want anything to do with supporting my efforts now could not get enough of me. At first I enjoyed it because for once she really seemed to like me, but then it started getting old and I saw it for what it was. I no longer was M* her grandaughter….I was introduced as “This is my grandaughter, Miss V***”. Yeah…she was proud, but not of me….just my title. Growing up I heard her bad-mouth my parents anytime they were not around. It was awful and I guess because we were younger we thought it was normal. As we got older we realized it wasn’t. We also heard the stories Daddy told about growing up and he was a tortured soul. One day I had dropped by the house on my way to College. My Papaw always had me stop by so he could load me up with drinks and stuff to take to the dorm. He had gone back to work and I headed over. She and I were talking and visiting and she proceeded to start slamming my parents for nothing. I stood up to her….for the first time in my life…I stood up to her. I told her I did not appreciate her speaking about them like that and I don’t remember what all was said but her personality changed instantly and she denied ever saying anything. I told her she was lying. She talked and smoothed it and was sweet and loving. I instantly told my parents because it was not like me to speak up and I felt bad because I felt like I had disrespected her, but I was so tired of her disrespecting them. Daddy told me to get ready because she would look for a way to get me back and put me in my place. Wow…he wasn’t lying. For a while everything seemed fine. Then Christmas came and I had decided to move overseas and get married. Christmas was always big around our house and my Grandparents always either stayed with us Christmas Eve or came bright and early the next morning as we got up. This particular Christmas Papaw had wanted to take me shopping for my Christmas stuff, but he was not feeling well so he couldn’t do a lot of walking. So Grandma went with us and he would sit in the mall while we shopped. There were two things that Papaw wanted to get me…a trench coat and my carry on piece for my luggage. We got those two things and got them on a really good sale. Then he wanted me to shop for some clothes. I would look for items on sale and when Papaw was out of ear shot she would remind me I already had a piece of luggage and trench coat. When he was around she acted like she was really excited about shopping with me. She wanted to get me a “gunny pack”…you know those purse looking things you strap around your waist. I wanted NOTHING to do with one of those and told her that I really didn’t think I would use it. I ended up getting a sweatshirt out of the “old lady section” and pair of jeans that were on clearance. I may have gotten another sweater…..And that was about it. So Christmas morning comes and they are bringing in loads of presents. Mom, Dad and Brother had these huge stacks and stacks of stuff. I had a very small stack. Papaw kept asking, “Sugar where are yours?” And he’d look under the tree. My brother got Carhartt everything and a gun and hunting stuff. Tons of clothes. My parents got $500 each then stacks of gifts….clothes, hunting stuff and things for the house. My presents were labeled from Mamaw and Papaw and they included the luggage piece, coat, sweater, sweatshirt and jeans. Then there were two presents that were labeled “from Mamaw”. One was the gunny sack and the other was disposable panties. Brother was upset and pulled Daddy to the back and asked if I was getting anything else. Mama was furious and Daddy was waiting to see if Papaw had planned to give me money when he left. Papaw seemed confused and I felt awkward. After they left Mama went and got her money and gave it to me. She said she didn’t want their “d**m money.” She never curses. Found out later that Papaw thought the reason I only had a few presents compared to everyone else was because Grandma gave me money instead. The one time Daddy stood up for me was after I flew out and it was about Christmas. He and Papaw went toe to toe about it because Daddy spoke against my Grandma. The next day Papaw was in congestive heart-failure. Daddy made sure to let me know that it was because he stood up for me. Papaw died about two years later. It was devastating to us…actually I don’t know that is even an accurate enough description. I stayed with her. I was really worried about her and despite the way she treated me I loved her. I weathered the little remarks that she made to me about how Papaw didn’t like how I did this or that. She really made some bizarre comments that made no sense to me. After the funeral I soon went back home to Belgium. When I first moved over there I had orders to call them once every few weeks…I thought it was orders from them….it was actually from him. After he was gone it was pretty clear she really didn’t care for me calling. I called one day very upset, homesick, missing Papaw and confused because of the things that she had said. I asked her..”Mamaw do you think Papaw knew I loved him?” Her response…”I don’t know if he knew you loved him or not.” Conversation was short and basically one sided. I didn’t call again. Fast forward a few years….I had moved home, divorced and remarried a man with a beautiful little boy. His wife had died and I adopted this precious child. She was now living in another state and the only time I heard from her was when I called. Sometimes the conversations were good and she was a sweet loving person….other times she was short and cold. I pretty much knew how to gauge her and I had learned from an early age to be careful of what you say when she’s nice because when her mood changes she will cut your throat with it. My parents always tried to teach me that, but it actually took me experiencing it myself. With us only having one child, she ate him up. Of course, she made it a point one day to tell me I needed to get a book on how to be a Mother when I corrected him in her presence. My second child came and for some reason I wished she was there. I had some fairytale dream that she would change her opinion of me through my children. Sad…I thought the same thing about Daddy, but that is another story. She moved back home and basically next door to my Dad and brother after my parents divorced. I remember when I went to help her move I would make suggestions, but she would have to run them by my brother first. Everything had to have his approval. I finally just left. My sister-in-law and I went and painted the house before she came down and I figured that was good enough if my opinion was not worthy of hearing. Even with her home I didn’t hear much from her unless I called or went to visit. She ate my second child up, but now the first one was forgotten. He could do nothing right in her eyes…at all. When I unexpectedly got pregnant with our third child we were surprised but very excited. I went to tell her and her response was NOT what I expected at all. “OH M** don’t you know what causes that! Goodness…Hmmph…I guess I’m going to have to change all my money around.” I was flabbergasted. She was not happy at all….you would have thought I was a 15 year old high school student pregnant for the first time… not a married mom of two. I just played nice and left. When my third child came she came to the hospital and I was so excited to see her there. She stayed for a while and made a fuss over me not being fed for so long and them taking too long to do my “tubal”. I so enjoyed her being there, but I think that is the last happy memory. She’s a fanatic about medicine and fumes and many other things. One day after I went back to work K** got sick. She said she would gladly keep her for me so I took her and told her what to give her as far as tylenol and instructions on feeding her. When I went to pick her up she had not given her the medicine because she said she didn’t need it…and she had fever. She instructed me that I had not been feeding her properly and I needed to learn to feed her better. My baby never stayed with her again. After a little while it seemed that our oldest could do no right, our middle one could do no wrong and our youngest one didn’t exist, unless of course other people were around. I recognized it plain as day as how I grew up, and I just could not allow someone to do that to my kids. I could not allow my kids to give their hearts and unconditional love to someone who would turn them inside out like she had done me. My middle child was diagnosed with ADHD. He was always extremely skinny and tall. The doctor said it was nothing to be concerned about because his weight would catch up with his height. I did not want to put him on medication because I didn’t feel comfortable with it, but he was not learning at school. As soon as we started the meds…that changed and he was catching up. During this time I got raked across the coals by not only her but Daddy about my son’s weight and him taking the meds. If he stayed with either of them he usually didn’t take the meds because if I sent them it would be a fight and a hassle that I just did not want to get into. I heard that she thought that I would not feed my child, I did not take care of my kids, and I allowed the TV to babysit them….unreal. My sitter lived behind her so that made it worst because then she said that my sitter was raising my kids and not me. I finally had it…I went to visit her one day. She had a sewing box full of stuff that she was going to give me. Then she started in about my son and pointing out all the things I was doing wrong and how I was not a good mother. There was no explaining his condition to her. She would not listen to what the Dr said or how his educational achievement had improved. She was just letting me have it. Then she told me…and I kid you not…that he would grow up to be a retard and I would be responsible. I BLEW….I very nicely asked, “Why do you hate me so much? I have loved you unconditional, but you have done this to me all my life and I want to know why. What did I do to you?” She said she didn’t know what I was talking about that it was all in my head and everything had to revolve around me. We got into it and I told her I did not need any parenting tips from her because the last time I checked she didn’t get no Mother of the Year Award. I told her that I was not a fool and that Mom, Dad, Brother and Sister-in-Law saw how she did me. I told her I knew a lot more about things than she thought I knew. I knew she tried to pay Daddy to leave us. I told her she needed some serious medication for her mood swings and she told me if I wanted to see crazy to look in the mirror. I left all of the stuff there and left. I was furious, but I felt good because for the first time I stood up to her…for myself and for my kids. God knows no one else ever did or ever would. Daddy said he was glad and that he had told me for the longest time to stay away from her and I would not listen. Mom was surprised and thought it was great. To this day I wonder why they never did it for me when I was a kid. They admit it was not my imagination….they just couldn’t do it. Her way of smoothing things over is to throw a check in the mail. Money fixes everything…but not this time. She sent my oldest his birthday check and I mailed it back to her unopened. She mailed us a Christmas card with a very large check and I sat down and penned her a letter. Put it in the envelope with the check and went and taped it to her door. From the best of my memory my letter went: Thanks but no thanks. Until you can start respecting me as an adult, mother and a granddaughter your money is not wanted nor needed. Until you love and recognize all three of my children your money is not wanted nor needed. If you ever do have a change of heart and would like to have a relationship with me where you can respect me as I respect you please come by or call and we will have coffee. I have never heard from her. So now I’m sitting at the gas station, 3 yrs later. My heart is racing and I’m watching her through the mirror. I want to take in the site of her because I DO love her and it‘s been so long since I‘ve seen her. She’s my Mamaw. I run in to get my things, very nervous about what type of reaction she will have if we bump into each other. I’m at the counter and in she walks. I look at her, smile and say “Hey”….she just nods. She pushes her buggy by me. Determined to try to talk to her I turn and say “How have you been?” She never stops….just says “Fine.” and walks by. As she walks by she pats my arm and says “I didn’t recognize you.” She never stopped. She never asked how things were. She never asked about her great grandchildren….she just kept walking. I have no regrets. I stood up for myself and my kids. Nothing hurts worst than loving a family member that doesn’t love you back. I thought it was hurtful with her, but it was just a drop in the bucket compared to what I’m going through now. My parents never stood up for me….I wonder why. The only thing I can figure is that they felt so indebted to them both, didn’t want to upset Papaw and didn’t want to face her wrath. Sometimes it makes me angry and it hurts, but it’s ok. I stopped it with mine. I have good memories with her and those are the ones I hold onto and in my mind I pretend that she did love me and she just couldn’t control the other side of her personality. It’s sad that she never really knew who I was and her only idea of me is a person she made up in her mind. I loved her…I love her now and I hope that she is happy and well in all things.
  6. Friday, April 9, 2010 The True Beginning of my life I can honestly say that my life truly began the night I met my husband. I can honestly say I did not want anything to do with the man. I was divorced and had plans to finish my education and get out of this town. I was struggling with the left over baggage from a bad marriage and trying to figure out who I was on my own. My friend told me about this guy...she was dating his friend and they said that he wanted to meet me. Like I said I was not interested because he had a lot of baggage that I wanted NO PART of. So I was nice...they introduced us and I was NOT impressed. He had several drinks, was grating on my last nerve and some how they conned me into driving the fool to the next stop "to meet them". They never showed up! I told him I'd take him home and when we got there he invited me in...now this is the part where I was supposed to say "Thanks but I gotta go." For some reason I said Ok. I went in and there on the floor. under a Barney blanket was a little blonde haired boy. I couldn't see his face just the blonde hair. Part of me said "Girl, get your butt in the car..." but again something kept me there. This guy who had grated on my last nerve proceeded to sit down and start talking about what they had been through, and I could not help but sit and listen. I had heard the story...everyone in town knew about it...and I could not bring myself to leave. This obnoxious character changed before my very eyes to a lost, desperatley devastated soul. My husband was married to a girl who, from what I have been told, was a great person. I did not know her, but we did go to the same school. From what I had been told, they were together constantly and you never saw one without the other. They had a child...the angel that was sleeping under the Barney blanket. They played softball together on co-ed teams and had a seemingly normal life. Then she got sick. I remember reading about her in the paper. I remember seeing flyers up all over town with pictures of her and her baby. She was missing, but the story was a devastating one that touched me to the core when he told it. He said she had gotten sick, but he didn't realize how sick she was because she hid it. He knew something was wrong but she downplayed it, and he took her at her word. She had Cushings Disease. He worked, came home played with C*, then went to bed. (She handled everything else and that was all he had to do.) He said this one particular morning, they got up and got dressed just like every other morning. They joked and talked about what they would do after work. They told each other they loved each other and went on about their day. She was supposed to be going to another Dr. apt and was getting C* ready for school. Late that afternoon he got a call from the daycare asking who would pick C* up because noone ever showed up. He was the last one there. He said that was way out of the ordinary and went straight to get him. She never came home. From this point phone calls were made, people gathered, people searched...she never turned up. His sister came home from out of state to help, and he soon found himself being questioned. He said he had no problem with it because he wanted to find her, but it soon seemed he was the prime suspect. There was no note...nothing to indicate why she would not come home...and she never made it to her appointment. The story made the paper and the news...but still no leads. About a week and a half to two weeks later there were some boys riding four wheelers in the woods in the north county and they came across a car...with her in it. Her father had hunted out there and she went there to take her life. He said when the cops came back down the drive he was on the lawnmower (thats what he does when he is stressed) and he just kept cutting. His sister came to him and he asked if they were going to take him back down to the jail again. She told him no that it was over. At first he didn't realize "over" meant "over" and wanted to know where she was. Of course, a thorough investigation was done and it was determined that it was 100% suicide but the questions still lingered of why? He then had to explain to C* that Mommy was not coming home and plan a funeral. Because she had taken care of everything he was a bit lost with what to do with C*. He said his sister wanted to take him but he wouldn't allow it. He said he would not let his son go...he belonged to him and he was going to raise him. When I met him this was only a few months after all of this had happened. This man looked like a scarecrow...he was so thin and he had hollowed-out dark holes under his eyes. He said, "I don't know..I just don't know.." constantly. The obnoxious Gomer Pyle-imitating jerk wasn't really a jerk at all. As I listened to him tell this story it broke my heart and my troubles weren't so bad. He asked if I would please come play with his little boy the next day and I said "Sure". I drove home that night in tears. That poor baby...left at that daycare...waiting on his Mama. That poor husband listening to that Trace Adkins song "Every Light in the House is On"...waiting on his wife to come home...trying to figure out what was going on and how to answer his little boy's questions. The next day I went over as I promised and the cutest little boy I had ever laid eyes on walked out the door to meet me. He had the blondest hair and gorgeous blue eyes. He had a smile that melted my heart like butter!! I fell in love with him the moment I laid eyes on him, and I had never felt anything like that in my life. There are no words to describe how I felt about him that day other than it was the equivalent of how I felt later when my other two babies were born. This little boy ate more popsicles than I had ever seen. We played, watched TV and I told them I would be back again the next day to cook for them. He sure seemed to need someone to talk to and that little boy needed some real food. That day turned into two then three and before I realized it I was over there everyday. We talked about everything and I loved on that little boy like nobodies business. Before I knew it I found myself falling for this guy and man did I feel guilty. I mean he had just lost his wife, and I figured I had for sure lost my mind. We never even sat next to each other...me on the couch...he in the recliner. I debated what to do because I was too close and I didn't want to get hurt, but for the first time I felt like someone needed me and I had long since fallen in love with that little boy. I told him that one day when and if he moved on, he would need to make sure that whoever he made a life with accepted his son as her own...no if, ands, buts about it. I never dreamed I'd be the one. One night we were sitting and talking, he in the recliner and me on the floor and he kissed me. I remember it like yesterday. It was the most electrifying kiss I have ever had in my life...then he said "I love you" and HELLO...before I knew it I said it back. I kicked myself all the way home and had three panic attacks. What on earth was I thinking??? I swore those words wouldn't come out of my mouth again to ANYBODY and here I was saying it to this guy who was probably confused because of his trauma??? Well, there was no confusion. From that day we were inseperable and were very open and honest about our feelings and concerns. I had never been so happy. Of course, people talked, but I knew the truth about how things had happened. My Mom was so upset and concerned for me. She didn't want me getting hurt or people saying things about me. My Dad on the other hand told me, "If you find love grab it with both hands and don't let go." And I did. I brought them to my parents house and of course they instantly fell in love with C*. It was an instant bond just like it had been with me. Shortly..very shortly afterwards we were engaged and within two to three months MARRIED!! While we were engaged C* would ask "Can I call you Mama?" or "Are you my Mama now?" I told him the day his Dad and I married he could call me anything he wanted to. The day we married was the happiest day of my life...God sent me a man that truly loved me and I become a Mama. "Mama"....the sweetest gift given to me that day was to hear my little boy call my name.
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