It has been a long while since I have been able to write on my blog. Tonight, I feel like I need to get back to that therapy. So I will start here.
Labels
Have you ever thought about all the labels we are obsessed with handing out today? Some labels we strive to get and others we run from. Think about it. Maybe you want the label of popular or athletic or Transgender or upper-middle-class or snowbird. Maybe you run from the labels of poor, stupid, criminal, geek or "ex". Seems we have more labels today then ever before. I watched a news clip on how they have rewritten some history books in California to discuss historical figures sexual orientation. This made me think, do I care what they or anyone does in sexual preference? I mean I never really thought about Ben Franklin gave me some great inventions to make my life easier today....wonder if he was gay or transgender. Nope, never questioned that. Nor did I think, was he popular, cool, rich, a college graduate....nope didn't care. I did think, wow he has helped me and many others. They shared how women would dress as men to fight in the war so they must have been transgender. Ummmmm, no I don't agree with that. I was a tom boy and some girls just want to be included and help where they can without dealing with gender barriers. But again, never thought...hey is that soldier gay? Nope, not once. Likewise, we tend to label by color and religion. I recently heard a story that Jesus was Muslim and black. Ok, never once wondered or cared. I cared what he did/does and his actions. That made me analyze what I thought Jesus looks like...label him if you will. I guess I think he is a bit of all religions and non religions and a bit of every color.
Well all of this then made me think back to history. For centuries we have fought against labels. We fought against the Scarlet A for those who participated in adultery....thank goodness or we would have everyone running around looking like Alvin the Chipmunk with a giant A on their shirts. We have fought against the labeling of class in transportation. We no longer travel by classes but we do choose to label ourselves by buying first class seating or suites on cruise ships and hotels.
Why is it we don't want to be labeled, but then label ourselves......we are so confusing!
Do labels matter? Or is it what we do that matters, no matter how many labels we have behind our name?
I know many very educated people with very impressive "labels" who never tell you about those labels, because they are humble and choose to show what they are as a person vs what the label says they are. Then I have known a few people who insist you call them by their label and can't do a darn thing, other than gloat about a label they have behind their name. The greatest label I have ever had is "mom". That is also the greatest I will ever have.
I tell young adults all the time, it doesn't matter what you choose to do, just do it the very best you can and be proud of your work.
I would love to see less labels.
Like......Santa! He has fewer labels for us
He has just 2, naughty or nice....that is it! He did not ask my gender, sexuality, religion, nationality, political party, education level, income level, community I live in or anything else. Just was I naughty or nice.
My wish for 2018......less labels.
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Grandma
Well it has been quite a while since I last blogged. Lots has changed with me and the world. In the past week I have had stories about Grandma shared with me. And I would like to share them with you.
Grandma Walters - Jared was born on her birthday in 1997 and she was 91 years old that day. I took Jared to see her in the nursing home and she just thought he was great. I don't really remember seeing her much as my Dad passed away when I was 8 and the family scattered like pool balls on a break. In fact, I only remember 1 times ever going to her house as a child and I don't have any memories of her coming to our, although I know she did. Recently I attended at funeral on my Dad's side of the family and heard stories. My Dad's side was/is Catholic and winters in Illinois are cold, thus resulting in large families. Several of the siblings told the same story at different times, almost identical. How my Dad would come to their house and tell them how he wished their mom was his mom. I thought to myself, haven't we all wished that at some point in childhood? Well as the time went on more and more came out. My Grandmother was cold to my Dad. Didn't have much attention for more than one at a time. Well that explained why my Catholic Grandmother only had 2 children. She only had time for one son, and from what I understand that wasn't my Dad.
I began to put pieces of the family puzzle together and I have prayed about this and talked to God asking for some answers. This is what I feel happened. I think my father grew envious of his younger brother. My father was known as Cookie, a nickname I understand from childhood and a girl involved...lol. My uncle was known as Sprucy....you know why....spruced that hair back for the girls. Well anyone that knew Cookie would tell you he had a way of knowing how to make lots of money. They will also tell you he couldn't hold on to a penny of it. He had a brilliant business mind, but lacked financial responsibility. He also lacked self control with the booze and women. I think all of this made my uncle envious of my Dad. My Dad started a trucking company and my uncle followed by becoming a driver. My Dad married a woman named Joann, and my uncle married a woman named Joann. Of course my Dad divorced and married and divorced and married and was in the process of a divorce with my mother when he passed away. I have learned that men who do these behaviors are seeking a love for themselves they never got from their mother. Sidenote: that is why it drives me crazy right now to see all these women play the victim card about sexual harassment. Not right, not saying that but why are they behaving that way? Does it go back to longing for the love from a mother? So, while I have struggled with my father's deplorable behavior when it came to women, I am now understanding it. Don't like it, but understand it. Grandma Walters lived a long life and her precious Sprucy was her apple in the eye. So when my Dad would piss off his cousins by telling them he wished their mother was his mother, it was actually the best compliment he could have ever given them. It was a child's way of saying your mom really loves you, wish mine loved me that way. I also heard a story of one cousin letting the anger go when my father ran into their house and my great-aunt Rose held him tightly in her arms and he embraced her in a hug with no intentions of letting go. That too was a way of a child saying, thank you for loving me - when I am not even your child. Today my father, grandmother, and uncle all lie in the same cemetery, no where near one another. Kind of ironic isn't it? My father lies in the back of the cemetery near the timber flanked by friends and drinking buddies from days gone by. My Grandmother rests next to her husband, who I never had the opportunity to meet but have a middle name in honor of him. My uncle resides in a new part of the cemetery right up by the highway, not near the mother he had living in his home and was the favorite child of.
My Grandma DeLong - Oh Grandma DeLong was the one I knew the best and have so many memories and wisdom from. Like the time she took me to church but I had no church clothes so she took the clothes off the Raggedy Ann Doll and dressed me in them - the Tomboy Debbie - in a dress, a Raggedy Ann dress off a doll. I remember hiding under the pew in church where my grandparents always sat. Next to the isle last row, so Grandpa could get to the door for greeting members. Then that dreaded moment of children's time....off to the front pew I had to go....it was awful. I am stilled scarred from it all. Well since that time, I have learned a lot from that, you do with what you have and your respect the Lord's house. So if a Raggedy Ann dress is all I have to wear today, I would do it. Grandma came from a large family, mostly girls and one boy...feel sorry for him don't you? Edith, Edna, Eva, Elsie, Esther, Jim.....ummmm yep that is the way it was. My grandparent's home was always open. You needed a place, you always knew you were welcome. I remember one weekend when I was helping my grandmother clean her house (which I did for her every weekend after my grandfather had his stroke) and my grandmother sharing some wisdom with me. Didn't know it was wisdom until I got older. She said, "We can't pick our family,but we can pick the ones we claim." GRANDMA???? My sweet, cookie baking, ornament sewing, sock darning, made from scratch everything grandma who nursed every creature possible back to health just said this? Well flash forward many years. I have had an appreciate for learning my family history and Jared enjoyed it as well. In fact, I learned more through his investigations than my own.
Today I found a letter my Grandmother had written to one of her sisters who had been mean to another sister and telling lies to a doctor. That letter was quite blunt with the way she felt and when she cursed she used _ _ _ _ _ to replace the letters...but you could tell what she was saying....lol If the letter would be written today it would basically say you are bullying this sister with the help from that sister and the one being bullied has never said a bad word about any of you, she only cares for you and loves you all, yet you all treat her like this. My Grandmother did not like people who would lie and she would call you out on it....even doing so to her own daughter - which is one of the reasons I have the feelings I do for her. I saw too much first hand.
I have learned through the years all the hell my grandmother lived through. She was raised by an uncle because her parents passed at a young age, lived a very hard life, loved my grandfather with her entire body, raised 2 children and after they were married had an - OMG moment and having a 3rd child. I am chalking all 3 up to immaculate conception because I know my grandparents could have never had sex. Especially when their children are grown! She had surgeries on her legs and had to wear wraps on her legs for as long as I can remember. It was unreal to me to see the wrappings off because her legs were so tiny and thin. She had many health issues she battled and rarely complained.
Both my grandmothers lost a child, so we all 3 were/are Angel Moms. Something I am sure none of us ever wanted to be.
I found this handwritten note from my grandmother to her "mean" sister and I will share it with you, and I hope it makes you think as much as I have today and find peace from it.
Grandma Walters - Jared was born on her birthday in 1997 and she was 91 years old that day. I took Jared to see her in the nursing home and she just thought he was great. I don't really remember seeing her much as my Dad passed away when I was 8 and the family scattered like pool balls on a break. In fact, I only remember 1 times ever going to her house as a child and I don't have any memories of her coming to our, although I know she did. Recently I attended at funeral on my Dad's side of the family and heard stories. My Dad's side was/is Catholic and winters in Illinois are cold, thus resulting in large families. Several of the siblings told the same story at different times, almost identical. How my Dad would come to their house and tell them how he wished their mom was his mom. I thought to myself, haven't we all wished that at some point in childhood? Well as the time went on more and more came out. My Grandmother was cold to my Dad. Didn't have much attention for more than one at a time. Well that explained why my Catholic Grandmother only had 2 children. She only had time for one son, and from what I understand that wasn't my Dad.
I began to put pieces of the family puzzle together and I have prayed about this and talked to God asking for some answers. This is what I feel happened. I think my father grew envious of his younger brother. My father was known as Cookie, a nickname I understand from childhood and a girl involved...lol. My uncle was known as Sprucy....you know why....spruced that hair back for the girls. Well anyone that knew Cookie would tell you he had a way of knowing how to make lots of money. They will also tell you he couldn't hold on to a penny of it. He had a brilliant business mind, but lacked financial responsibility. He also lacked self control with the booze and women. I think all of this made my uncle envious of my Dad. My Dad started a trucking company and my uncle followed by becoming a driver. My Dad married a woman named Joann, and my uncle married a woman named Joann. Of course my Dad divorced and married and divorced and married and was in the process of a divorce with my mother when he passed away. I have learned that men who do these behaviors are seeking a love for themselves they never got from their mother. Sidenote: that is why it drives me crazy right now to see all these women play the victim card about sexual harassment. Not right, not saying that but why are they behaving that way? Does it go back to longing for the love from a mother? So, while I have struggled with my father's deplorable behavior when it came to women, I am now understanding it. Don't like it, but understand it. Grandma Walters lived a long life and her precious Sprucy was her apple in the eye. So when my Dad would piss off his cousins by telling them he wished their mother was his mother, it was actually the best compliment he could have ever given them. It was a child's way of saying your mom really loves you, wish mine loved me that way. I also heard a story of one cousin letting the anger go when my father ran into their house and my great-aunt Rose held him tightly in her arms and he embraced her in a hug with no intentions of letting go. That too was a way of a child saying, thank you for loving me - when I am not even your child. Today my father, grandmother, and uncle all lie in the same cemetery, no where near one another. Kind of ironic isn't it? My father lies in the back of the cemetery near the timber flanked by friends and drinking buddies from days gone by. My Grandmother rests next to her husband, who I never had the opportunity to meet but have a middle name in honor of him. My uncle resides in a new part of the cemetery right up by the highway, not near the mother he had living in his home and was the favorite child of.
My Grandma DeLong - Oh Grandma DeLong was the one I knew the best and have so many memories and wisdom from. Like the time she took me to church but I had no church clothes so she took the clothes off the Raggedy Ann Doll and dressed me in them - the Tomboy Debbie - in a dress, a Raggedy Ann dress off a doll. I remember hiding under the pew in church where my grandparents always sat. Next to the isle last row, so Grandpa could get to the door for greeting members. Then that dreaded moment of children's time....off to the front pew I had to go....it was awful. I am stilled scarred from it all. Well since that time, I have learned a lot from that, you do with what you have and your respect the Lord's house. So if a Raggedy Ann dress is all I have to wear today, I would do it. Grandma came from a large family, mostly girls and one boy...feel sorry for him don't you? Edith, Edna, Eva, Elsie, Esther, Jim.....ummmm yep that is the way it was. My grandparent's home was always open. You needed a place, you always knew you were welcome. I remember one weekend when I was helping my grandmother clean her house (which I did for her every weekend after my grandfather had his stroke) and my grandmother sharing some wisdom with me. Didn't know it was wisdom until I got older. She said, "We can't pick our family,but we can pick the ones we claim." GRANDMA???? My sweet, cookie baking, ornament sewing, sock darning, made from scratch everything grandma who nursed every creature possible back to health just said this? Well flash forward many years. I have had an appreciate for learning my family history and Jared enjoyed it as well. In fact, I learned more through his investigations than my own.
Today I found a letter my Grandmother had written to one of her sisters who had been mean to another sister and telling lies to a doctor. That letter was quite blunt with the way she felt and when she cursed she used _ _ _ _ _ to replace the letters...but you could tell what she was saying....lol If the letter would be written today it would basically say you are bullying this sister with the help from that sister and the one being bullied has never said a bad word about any of you, she only cares for you and loves you all, yet you all treat her like this. My Grandmother did not like people who would lie and she would call you out on it....even doing so to her own daughter - which is one of the reasons I have the feelings I do for her. I saw too much first hand.
I have learned through the years all the hell my grandmother lived through. She was raised by an uncle because her parents passed at a young age, lived a very hard life, loved my grandfather with her entire body, raised 2 children and after they were married had an - OMG moment and having a 3rd child. I am chalking all 3 up to immaculate conception because I know my grandparents could have never had sex. Especially when their children are grown! She had surgeries on her legs and had to wear wraps on her legs for as long as I can remember. It was unreal to me to see the wrappings off because her legs were so tiny and thin. She had many health issues she battled and rarely complained.
Both my grandmothers lost a child, so we all 3 were/are Angel Moms. Something I am sure none of us ever wanted to be.
I found this handwritten note from my grandmother to her "mean" sister and I will share it with you, and I hope it makes you think as much as I have today and find peace from it.
I Asked God "Why"
I asked God "Why did you send this cross,
The hurt and pain and the bitter loss?"
And I found it hard not to complain,
As I sought for peace of soul again.
I asked God "why did you destine me
For such a special misery?"
And it seemed somehow that I heard Him say,
"Man does not walk an easy way.
It's the ones I love the most that I
Send crosses to sorely try,
Remember this and know that there
Will come no grief you cannot bear.
Behold, I stand beside you in
Each sorrow 'till the very end,
Dear Little lamb stay close beside
your Shepherd 'till the eventide."
What blessed joy it was to find
His footprints ever close to mine.
He made the sadness disappear,
With words of comfort in my ear.
The pain of which I was afraid,
was lifted from me as I prayed,
Leaving such a light that I
needed never doubt or question why.
Grace E. Easley
Monday, June 13, 2016
Burn the Cloak of Shame!
Recently a friend invited me over to share a glass of wine and catch up on life. We had returned to her home after enjoying lunch at a local cafe feasting on southern style meat and 3 and our sweet tea all while sitting outside breathing in the sweet Tennessee air. I am not sure we stopped talking from the moment we saw one another. It was one of the most uplifting and somehow spiritual conversations I have had in a long time. We spoke of the struggles a mutual friend of ours deals with from the suicide of her child. That turned the conversation to the cloak of shame conversation. As if it was Jared showing up to join in, a bird flew up and sat near us on the step, then in the tree next to us, followed by my 3 birds soaring high above. Birds are, and have been, my spiritual connection to Jared since he passed. My friend shared how she can't believe the way some people still react to us and how people's fear of suicide makes them act in rude and unnatural behaviors.
I can't believe Jared will be gone 2 years tomorrow. At times it is like I lost him yesterday, and other times it feels like forever.
I looked back and I realized that each time someone has tried to put the cloak of shame on me (as if I am wearing the scarlet letter ) I have refused to put it on. In some cases, I think I have put it on them, for shame on them for trying to make me be ashamed of my child.....like H&!! you will. Maybe I have not allowed this because I acknowledge the only way to stop suicide is to talk about it and let people know there is a support system.
I can't believe Jared will be gone 2 years tomorrow. At times it is like I lost him yesterday, and other times it feels like forever.
I looked back and I realized that each time someone has tried to put the cloak of shame on me (as if I am wearing the scarlet letter ) I have refused to put it on. In some cases, I think I have put it on them, for shame on them for trying to make me be ashamed of my child.....like H&!! you will. Maybe I have not allowed this because I acknowledge the only way to stop suicide is to talk about it and let people know there is a support system.
For as long as I can remember, I would hear adults talk about suicide and everyone would chime in on the "why did it happen" theories. You know what I am talking about. Husband cheating, wife cheating, money problems, criminal problems, losing their house, blah blah. What I have learned is that we are an instant, fix it now, generation. If I can't find the answer on Google, I don't need it. Remember the days you had to go to a library and use the card catalog to look stuff up? WATCH IT, I AM NOT THAT OLD! Seriously, that wasn't long ago. If you haven't walked into a school library recently, you might just be shocked. In fact, I walked into the "library" at my Alma Mater and it was now a lunch room. No books, just tables and vending machines. The librarians desk is used to house the popcorn machine. Anyway, we want it now. Remember when you were a child and you got hurt? We weren't rushed to the ER our parents washed us off, wrapped it up, and kissed our booboo and off we went again. I still have scars to prove it. Other times the solution was to rub dirt in it and keep going. Dr Mom always had the answer. Windows were open, so were front doors, and kids bounced between houses getting goodies along the way. Candy from one, ice pop from the next, glass of Kool Aide from another. Over the years, we have all learned to isolate ourselves. Don't believe me? Are your doors and windows open and can you hear nature? Or are they sealed up tightly with your air conditioner running because you are hot? Do you talk to people in person or do you text and chat online? Do you sit on your front porch and visit with neighbors and family or in your LaZboy?
Well most likely you sit in your house with your AC on high chatting with people electronically. The right now approach. After all, visiting would require planning of some kind, traveling for someone, and undivided attention.
Well with suicide, there are no right here, right now answers. Not when you are doing all you can to save a life. Not when you are picking up the pieces left behind. Not anytime. Not about any part of it. It is a multi layer issue. That is why most people want to look the other way rather than tackle the issue. It is like trying to capture a cloud for most of us. Just when you think you will capture it, it changes form, and it is impossible to capture. Just as no two clouds are the same, neither are suicides.
Suicide does not mean the person lost was not loved, or did not give love. In fact, it is quite the reverse. They often are surrounded by so much love and give so much love, that it is incomprehensible when they are lost to suicide. How can that be? They were such a happy person. They were so loved. Suicide has NOTHING to do with amount or lack of love, it is far deeper than that.
Suicide is a method of death. Equal to all other forms of death. What does separate it is it carries a HUGE stigma. A stigma that is at times enlarged by culture, by color, by age, by socioeconomic class, by profession, just to name a few. I live in the Caribbean and I have found that both culturally and in the black community, suicide carries a larger stigma than in the white community. It carries a larger stigma than those in the Latino community but the Latino's here have a larger one than whites. I have become close friends with a black lady here who lost her son a few years ago. He was off at college in the states when he took his life. She struggles because of the stigma associated form multiple directions. She fights back each time someone tries to put that cloak of shame on her.
There is nothing to be ashamed of. My child struggled with a disease that we could not find the root of. A disease that was being treated. He was a great kid/young adult. Why should I be ashamed? I should be ashamed because of their lack of education on the subject? I should be ashamed because they are uncomfortable saying the words?
So just try to put that cloak of shame on me again. I will remove it from my shoulders each and every time. I will give it back to you or burn it - be prepared. I have enough weight to carry everyday in my grief, I don't need unnecessary weight from a stupid cloak.
So if you happen to be around with the cloak of shame is given to someone.....stand with them as they refuse it. If they are struggling, help them take it off.
Last week, because a group of teens in Tennessee refused to wear the cloak of shame something great happened. A bill was signed into law. A bill that mandates more training for schools and now requires every employee of the school be trained in suicide prevention, intervention, and post-vention. Schools must also have policies and procedures in place with a student reaches out for help or when an intervention needs to take place or for the wake of the aftermath. This bill strengthened the Jason Flatt Act and was named Jared's Law #JaredsLaw. Nashville took to supporting the law and lit a downtown bridge up red on Friday night of CMA fest, ironically Chris Stapleton was performing that night and had just received an award for his suicide awareness song, Fire Away.
No matter the cause of death, I hope you never allow the cloak to be worn by anyone, ever again. #burnthecloak.
Below is photos of Nashville lit up Red and Governor Bill Haslam seated with Senator Kerry Roberts, AFSP Shannon Hall, TSPN Misty Leitsch, TSPN Executive Director Scott Ridgway, Jared's Keepers Student Ambassador Cameron Eanes, Jared's Keepers co-founder and Director of Student Outreach Kelsey Neeley, Mrs Dianne Roberts, Representative Mary Littleton
Below is photos of Nashville lit up Red and Governor Bill Haslam seated with Senator Kerry Roberts, AFSP Shannon Hall, TSPN Misty Leitsch, TSPN Executive Director Scott Ridgway, Jared's Keepers Student Ambassador Cameron Eanes, Jared's Keepers co-founder and Director of Student Outreach Kelsey Neeley, Mrs Dianne Roberts, Representative Mary Littleton
Monday, June 6, 2016
Life, It's Different Now
I am not sure what exactly has caused some of the changes in my life, but I am guessing it is a combination of losing Jared, moving to an island, getting older, and experiencing many things. I was reading a book on the first leg of my trip today which then got me to reflecting on my own life. Two things I no longer do is: wear a watch/worry about what time it is and start my day with news and weather.
When we lived in Nashville, the TV was our first alarm. It was programmed to come on with Channel 4 news. We would wake up as we listened to weather and traffic reports. Not anymore! I will let it all be a surprise. I really don't care if it rains, I find I love the smell. Traffic, well goves me time to talk to God.
This goes hand in hand with time. I no longer wear a watch, rarely look at my phone for time, and based on the attach of mosquitos I know it is time to fix dinner.
I have come to appreciate every thing God gives me. I laugh at things that used to make me angry......most of the time.
Todays travels have been full of those. Rich carried my suitcase out to the truck for me and was frustrated at the empty water jugs that I carry so I can stop and fill them. To me it is easier to have them with me than trying to remember at that moment. I acknowledge with child loss, memory also can go. In his frustration, he sat his wallet and phone on the back of the truck......and forgot them. We were about half way to the airport when he remembered. I looked back and found his wallet was still there, I honestly don't know how, but no phone. ....his only lifeline to me traveling. Our sweet neighbor went looking for it as I continuously call it and try to calm Rich down who is visibly upset and sick to his stomach. As we pulled onto the airport someone answered hos phone....it was our neighbor, she had just found it.
I have thought about this quite a bit. Had he of just been calm about a silly thing that is a visual reminder to me to do an errand, he might not have had bigger frustrations with the phone. Of course, any airport trip is adventurous and today was no different. I met each one with a smile, chuckle, and sometimes a smile as I was shaking my head.....like at the young men who didn't want to pay for overweight bags so they thought they could carry on a duffle bag full of tools....FOR REAL pipe wrenches, hammers....not little household ones either. Then onto boarding.....I laughed out loud with the gentleman next to me as half the flight stood to be preboarded needing assistance. Well AA recently changed the policy to 1st Class and active military followed by AA credit card holders....woohoo my lucky day!
I laughed at each experience so far today and take things as they come. I find I see blessings around me if I take my time and slow down a bit.
Try this exercise, sit quietly for 30 minutes anywhere. No phone, no technology, no tv, just sit. What do you see that you don't notice every day when you occupy that same space? Do you see a blemish on the wall not noticed? How about a flower? A bird you haven't seen in your yard? Notice life around you, don't let it pass you by.
Friday, January 22, 2016
The Keeper
def: a person who manages or looks after something or someone.
Sports def: A player assigned to protect the goal in various sports.
One of Jared's coaches told me that he was placed in the most important position for all the team. This position was not only to block the ball from entering but it was to observe, digest, and act as a "coach" from the field. This position needed to be able to reassure the team he would stop any ball that had gotten past them, or in other words "he had their back". This position was to coach and cheer on his team and motivate as this position had a better observation of the game then even the coach.
I watched Jared closely in his position he had been given after that talk. Being the over protective mother I was, I was concerned that was a lot of weight just put on his shoulders. I saw him take that weight and grow stronger from it. He learned to do exactly what the coach needed him to do and to also communicate with the coach for the coach to make better decisions.
This week has been one hell of a week for me. Downs, Ups, drowning, flying, exhaustion and completely helpless. These are just a few of the emotions from this week.
I began to think yesterday afternoon as I felt Jared's presence very strong, about the true meaning of a Keeper. I remembered what that coach had told me. I remembered watching Jared become a strong Keeper, both physically and mentally. I also thought about this: Jared is still the Keeper. He is keeping his team going to stop "block" suicide (stop the ball). He is putting each of us in our position on the field and putting a support system in the stands. He is putting people at the gate collecting money to insure the team can continue to play on a level field with good lighting, and a successful outcome. He has put the coaches in place that cheer on the team members. He has more team members than ever before signing up to join his team. We have a great defense! I also thought, just as the best of the best teams out there, once in a while a ball will get past all of us. No matter how strong our defense was/is. So, I can scream for a minute but then, just like Jared, I have to get my head back in the game.
Our Keepers across the US and around the world are growing in numbers, our defenses are getting stronger. Our cheers are getting louder. Our name is getting known. Our mission is being heard. Our "goals" are adding up.
I hear often from those who knew Jared that he is proud of me and the work I am doing. I think he is most proud of holding his team together. See my gift to Jared pales in comparison to that he gives me each day. He made wonderful, strong willed, determined, driven friends and he gifted them all to me. Without them, I couldn't continue nor would I have ever started.
I wish Jared would have taken his hurt from losing his father and done what Kelsey and I have done with ours. He would have had all the same supporters.
I look forward to heaven. I really do. I can be with Jared again and watch he and his team "God's Giants" or "Heavenly Havoc" playing some awesome soccer. I am sure that it is the greatest place, it has to be with all the beautiful Angels that live there with God.
Sports def: A player assigned to protect the goal in various sports.
One of Jared's coaches told me that he was placed in the most important position for all the team. This position was not only to block the ball from entering but it was to observe, digest, and act as a "coach" from the field. This position needed to be able to reassure the team he would stop any ball that had gotten past them, or in other words "he had their back". This position was to coach and cheer on his team and motivate as this position had a better observation of the game then even the coach.
I watched Jared closely in his position he had been given after that talk. Being the over protective mother I was, I was concerned that was a lot of weight just put on his shoulders. I saw him take that weight and grow stronger from it. He learned to do exactly what the coach needed him to do and to also communicate with the coach for the coach to make better decisions.
This week has been one hell of a week for me. Downs, Ups, drowning, flying, exhaustion and completely helpless. These are just a few of the emotions from this week.
I began to think yesterday afternoon as I felt Jared's presence very strong, about the true meaning of a Keeper. I remembered what that coach had told me. I remembered watching Jared become a strong Keeper, both physically and mentally. I also thought about this: Jared is still the Keeper. He is keeping his team going to stop "block" suicide (stop the ball). He is putting each of us in our position on the field and putting a support system in the stands. He is putting people at the gate collecting money to insure the team can continue to play on a level field with good lighting, and a successful outcome. He has put the coaches in place that cheer on the team members. He has more team members than ever before signing up to join his team. We have a great defense! I also thought, just as the best of the best teams out there, once in a while a ball will get past all of us. No matter how strong our defense was/is. So, I can scream for a minute but then, just like Jared, I have to get my head back in the game.
Our Keepers across the US and around the world are growing in numbers, our defenses are getting stronger. Our cheers are getting louder. Our name is getting known. Our mission is being heard. Our "goals" are adding up.
I hear often from those who knew Jared that he is proud of me and the work I am doing. I think he is most proud of holding his team together. See my gift to Jared pales in comparison to that he gives me each day. He made wonderful, strong willed, determined, driven friends and he gifted them all to me. Without them, I couldn't continue nor would I have ever started.
I wish Jared would have taken his hurt from losing his father and done what Kelsey and I have done with ours. He would have had all the same supporters.
I look forward to heaven. I really do. I can be with Jared again and watch he and his team "God's Giants" or "Heavenly Havoc" playing some awesome soccer. I am sure that it is the greatest place, it has to be with all the beautiful Angels that live there with God.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Triggers
We all have "triggers" that instantly take up to happy or sad places in our lives. It could be the smell of a cologne, perfume, flower, food, or pungent smell. I have triggers that take me to happy and sad places as well. The smell of dirty, stinky, sweaty, soccer.....takes me to a happy place believe it or not. It reminds me of all the time I spent with Jared watching him do what he loved to do.
This Christmas I found a new trigger that was not pleasant at all. In fact it brought nightmares to me. It is a family tradition with my in-laws to watch, It's A Wonderful Life. Didn't realize until this year how many times in one day they play the movie. I also didn't fully recognize the plot. Do you know it? If you were to have asked me a couple of years ago I would say it was a Guardian Angel sent to make George understand all the blessings he has. While that is true.....let's go to the beginning, where Gabriel was sent because George was getting ready to take his life......that is right....suicide. I never picked that part up until this year. Man did it come crashing down on my like a building collapsing and taking my breath away. I tried to occupy myself with my phone playing mindless games until my battery went dead. Then, I had to leave the room. I could have brought it to the attention of everyone but there was a fear of doing so. After all, I am an advocate to stop suicide, why would this silly movie get to me so much? Well the only way I can explain it is this. Touching someone on the arm with a new unsharpened pencil would not hurt. Yet if I did that on the arm with an open wound it would hurt beyond words. All holidays are open wounds when we are grieving for our loved ones.
I have had to learn many coping mechanisms to get through each day. Some are easier than others. I am not sure that Christmas will ever get easier.
I know that I have had many triggers and some I am able to flat out ignore before I get to the point of "out of control" with them. As an example, the media sensationalizing suicides and homicides. We don't need the details! When I think there is a trigger in the article I won't read it. Others are unavoidable. Much like learning the breathing techniques for labor, I have had to learn how to breath for grief. Sounds silly doesn't it? Yet, it is true. I have had to learn to breath at all sometimes. I have had to learn to breath short quick breaths and slow into longer, deeper breaths to slow my heart rate down from strong emotions to keep from hyperventilating. I have had to learn to breath with long exhales to clear my mind, emotions, and gain control over my thoughts.
For me the worst part of triggers is they can bring happiness and sadness at the same time. Pictures do this often for me. So many times I smile with happiness and cry with sadness at the exact same moment.
As we start a new year, I pray no parent will have to lose a child. I pray no person will have to suffer. I pray for peace of heart for those who are grieving.
This Christmas I found a new trigger that was not pleasant at all. In fact it brought nightmares to me. It is a family tradition with my in-laws to watch, It's A Wonderful Life. Didn't realize until this year how many times in one day they play the movie. I also didn't fully recognize the plot. Do you know it? If you were to have asked me a couple of years ago I would say it was a Guardian Angel sent to make George understand all the blessings he has. While that is true.....let's go to the beginning, where Gabriel was sent because George was getting ready to take his life......that is right....suicide. I never picked that part up until this year. Man did it come crashing down on my like a building collapsing and taking my breath away. I tried to occupy myself with my phone playing mindless games until my battery went dead. Then, I had to leave the room. I could have brought it to the attention of everyone but there was a fear of doing so. After all, I am an advocate to stop suicide, why would this silly movie get to me so much? Well the only way I can explain it is this. Touching someone on the arm with a new unsharpened pencil would not hurt. Yet if I did that on the arm with an open wound it would hurt beyond words. All holidays are open wounds when we are grieving for our loved ones.
I have had to learn many coping mechanisms to get through each day. Some are easier than others. I am not sure that Christmas will ever get easier.
I know that I have had many triggers and some I am able to flat out ignore before I get to the point of "out of control" with them. As an example, the media sensationalizing suicides and homicides. We don't need the details! When I think there is a trigger in the article I won't read it. Others are unavoidable. Much like learning the breathing techniques for labor, I have had to learn how to breath for grief. Sounds silly doesn't it? Yet, it is true. I have had to learn to breath at all sometimes. I have had to learn to breath short quick breaths and slow into longer, deeper breaths to slow my heart rate down from strong emotions to keep from hyperventilating. I have had to learn to breath with long exhales to clear my mind, emotions, and gain control over my thoughts.
For me the worst part of triggers is they can bring happiness and sadness at the same time. Pictures do this often for me. So many times I smile with happiness and cry with sadness at the exact same moment.
As we start a new year, I pray no parent will have to lose a child. I pray no person will have to suffer. I pray for peace of heart for those who are grieving.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Wise Words From Grandma
When I was in early elementary school my grandfather had a stroke which left him incapable of taking care of himself. This was devastating to him as he had been an active farmer all his life. My uncle was well known in our community and had much rental property in our small town. My uncle lived on the corner of our block and our house was beside it. My uncle had recently purchased a property on the other side of his which backed up to the back side of our property. The family chose to move my grandparents in to that location to allow us to all assist in taking care of my grandfather. In our family putting someone in a nursing home was just not what we did. In fact it was always my grandparents who took in the elderly in the family to care for them.
My grandfather needed assistance with everything and my grandmother had always been the sickly one. So we were only a phone call and a holler out the window away. It was hard on Gramp to allow any of us to help him out and see him the way we all must in order to take care of him. We had to assist in every way.
My grandparents were kind people, yet like most seniors they developed a very sharp tongue. It became sharper each year and the filter we all carry began to disappear. Looking back on it this is probably why my grandmother shared some things with me when she did.
Throughout my years living at home I would clean my grandparents home each week and earn money for camps and other things. I would also help my grandmother with balancing check books and she tried her best to teach me how to cook. That seemed to come naturally to her and not to me. She also taught me that you don't have to have all the fancy gadgets to do things. I learned to iron with her metal iron she heated up on the stove and a towel on the kitchen table as a board. Let me tell you she ironed EVERYTHING including the sheets and pillow cases. Laundry was hung out on the line to dry with every opportunity with the underwear located in the middle line and outer wear, towels, and sheets on the outside lines. Underwear went up last and came down first. I wonder what they would think these days when girls wear them as clothes. LOL
One day I remember cleaning and a family member came over that we all kept a close eye on for multiple reasons. I asked grandma why she even allowed him in. She responded that you can't choose your family but you can choose the ones you claim. I was taken back by that answer. But I think of that often.
I also think that works in reverse. While we may not be family by blood, we can choose who we connect with as family.
Grandma also told me many other things that were wise. First, use your fine silver often or it will tarnish. She said even if it is just eating bologna sandwiches and beans. Use your good china and silver. Now was she planting a seed to nurture? Because unlike my grandmother with an amazing green thumb, I on the other hand have little luck. But maybe she was also explaining to me that just because something or someone seems to be extremely valuable, they are not if they just sit and are never valued for their purpose.
She also said never go to bed mad or you will wake up mad. She was right. Tried that once and learned my lesson. Not again.
She also taught me how to focus on the things needed to be done first while putting the others on the back burner and pulling them up one at a time. I do that often. As example.....Today I must grocery shop to eat tonight, tomorrow I have a radio interview for our event on Saturday so in the morning I will prepare for that, Friday finish last minute items for Saturday and get rest, Saturday morning set up and event, Sunday or Saturday afternoon send thank yous out, Sunday rest, Monday my birthday and Rich has planned a great evening out with friends, Tuesday....rest, Wednesday prepare for Thanksgiving as much as possible, Thanksgiving make all the side dishes to Rich's smoked turkey. Friday Jump Up, Saturday and Sunday - rest. Then the following week begin promotion for Giving Tuesday. Then focus on the Red Out Nights coming up and helping the new Keepers Clubs get everything organized for them.
Grandma taught me a lot. Much I didn't even recognize until years after she was gone.
My grandfather needed assistance with everything and my grandmother had always been the sickly one. So we were only a phone call and a holler out the window away. It was hard on Gramp to allow any of us to help him out and see him the way we all must in order to take care of him. We had to assist in every way.
My grandparents were kind people, yet like most seniors they developed a very sharp tongue. It became sharper each year and the filter we all carry began to disappear. Looking back on it this is probably why my grandmother shared some things with me when she did.
Throughout my years living at home I would clean my grandparents home each week and earn money for camps and other things. I would also help my grandmother with balancing check books and she tried her best to teach me how to cook. That seemed to come naturally to her and not to me. She also taught me that you don't have to have all the fancy gadgets to do things. I learned to iron with her metal iron she heated up on the stove and a towel on the kitchen table as a board. Let me tell you she ironed EVERYTHING including the sheets and pillow cases. Laundry was hung out on the line to dry with every opportunity with the underwear located in the middle line and outer wear, towels, and sheets on the outside lines. Underwear went up last and came down first. I wonder what they would think these days when girls wear them as clothes. LOL
One day I remember cleaning and a family member came over that we all kept a close eye on for multiple reasons. I asked grandma why she even allowed him in. She responded that you can't choose your family but you can choose the ones you claim. I was taken back by that answer. But I think of that often.
I also think that works in reverse. While we may not be family by blood, we can choose who we connect with as family.
Grandma also told me many other things that were wise. First, use your fine silver often or it will tarnish. She said even if it is just eating bologna sandwiches and beans. Use your good china and silver. Now was she planting a seed to nurture? Because unlike my grandmother with an amazing green thumb, I on the other hand have little luck. But maybe she was also explaining to me that just because something or someone seems to be extremely valuable, they are not if they just sit and are never valued for their purpose.
She also said never go to bed mad or you will wake up mad. She was right. Tried that once and learned my lesson. Not again.
She also taught me how to focus on the things needed to be done first while putting the others on the back burner and pulling them up one at a time. I do that often. As example.....Today I must grocery shop to eat tonight, tomorrow I have a radio interview for our event on Saturday so in the morning I will prepare for that, Friday finish last minute items for Saturday and get rest, Saturday morning set up and event, Sunday or Saturday afternoon send thank yous out, Sunday rest, Monday my birthday and Rich has planned a great evening out with friends, Tuesday....rest, Wednesday prepare for Thanksgiving as much as possible, Thanksgiving make all the side dishes to Rich's smoked turkey. Friday Jump Up, Saturday and Sunday - rest. Then the following week begin promotion for Giving Tuesday. Then focus on the Red Out Nights coming up and helping the new Keepers Clubs get everything organized for them.
Grandma taught me a lot. Much I didn't even recognize until years after she was gone.
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