Monday, March 28, 2011
I Never Thought I'd...
It was within the same year that I turned thirty-six, the night my parents confessed to me that I had been a twin, that I turned “speechless” into therapeutic writing from just one sentence. My parents had literally called to see if I was home and driven an hour to break the news that they had harbored for so many years that I wasn’t the youngest of three girls; I was a big sister to a twin brother who was stillborn. Why now, why tonight was my initial thought. How would I deal with this information? How do you deal with this information? Writing would eventually change my life, my lifestyle, my complete being, who I was, who I would be and the result that I wanted to see in others. I have always taken what life has thrown at me and made the most of it, and I wouldn’t stop now, yet I was wondering how or if I could take my mental exhaustion from the evening events and put my thoughts onto paper. I knew I had been given this information, at this very time in my life, for a purpose but would I be strong enough to deal with it and take on the challenge that I had been given? I crawled in bed, tablet in hand and gave it my best attempt, knowing I had NOTHING to lose and EVERYTHING to gain. The feelings that were within me rushed out with such fury they quickly filled an ordinary sheet of paper in one setting. I felt so weightless, as if on top of the world after freeing all those thoughts. Although they had been inside me for such a small amount of time, they had already made such a huge impact. I have always been a free-spirit, “out of the box” thinker, and I knew that night writing would be how I would express myself. Writing would be my voice! I began sleeping with a spiral next to my bed and would wake in the night long enough to write the thought that stirred me from my sleep. I never thought I’d have the courage or strength to write my daughter’s story. I could write my feelings, and had done so for quite a while now, but could I write someone else’s, someonethat I was responsible for, someone that close to me? Would I do her justice or would it be a complete failure for both of us. I have always taken on challenges, and pushed myself to the limit, yet would this be a risk I was willing to take? In her few years alive she had already experienced more failures than I could ever imagine and I had always been her support, her rock. My daughter is Dyslexic and early on in her diagnosis it was obvious that she wanted to take on the world as she was truly compassionate for those with Dyslexia like her and that struggled reading. She battled daily will school and tasks that came so easily for most kids her age, yet a quitter she was not. I knew she had a story to tell, just as I had, she just wasn’t capable of getting her thoughts and words on paper. Could I? Could I do this for her? Was this really for her or had it become about me or both? I think the answer still proves to be both as she and I are conquering the world for Dyslexia. I spent seven years vigorously researching and writing, following my daughter around with a spiral and sticky notes, truly living my life for Dyslexia. Through her shoes, I saw what she saw, felt what she felt. I was deeply saddened or completely overjoyed living and breathing her life. It was ironic to think I had given her life at birth and now she was what was sustaining me. We would be the voice of those who could not speak for themselves. My life had meaning, God had given me the ability to write and I was paying it forward. I began by telling her story through my eyes, as her mother, and quickly knew that the story had to be told through her eyes to come across to the reader as I had intended. Years went by and finally the last word was written, the ink was set, the tears of accomplishment were dried and the book was published! I had what I believed to be an amazing idea. She and I purchased a globe and began putting tacks into it wherever we sold a book. We sent books to Switzerland, Egypt, Australia, Canada and numerous US States to name a few. This was teaching my daughter that there were children just like her all over the world, special children, unique children with unique brains. We were receiving emails from people across the world that we felt like we had known forever. These people had experienced the same things as my daughter and could totally relate to both her struggles and her victories. Parents were reading her story and feeling as if it was written about their own child. The courage that I used to tell her story became her strength in her daily life at home and at school. She has been an inspiration to a countless number of people, Dyslexic and not. I never thought I’d learn more from my daughter than what I could ever teach her. How often have we heard, “one step at a time?” Yet do we really mean it? The size of the step isn’t as important as the courage we receive in the swing between the steps; which enables us to take the next, and so on. What gives us that strength? Draw from that. Pretty soon we are walking or in my case, writing. If I were to string all my words up as if they were steps I wonder how far they would reach. We’ve reached across the world. She’s reached right into my heart and that’s allowed me to reach so many others. I am forever grateful.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
When Death Teaches LIFE
(written summer 2009)
Twenty-one years ago, we were a young married couple, doing what young married couples do…watching television, because it was cheap. Interrupting what was probably our favorite show in the 80’s, the phone violently rang, jolting us from the drama that was unfolding on TV. The voice was random, not recognizable, and she asked for my husband. She identified herself as a nurse at a hospital in Oklahoma and stated that she was tending to my husband’s mother. She briefly explained that my mother-in-law had tried to take her own life, and had done a superb job. She plead to us that if we wanted to speak to her alive we needed to get to her immediately. We were six hours from the hospital and we knew that immediately for us may not be fast enough. We shared a small bag between us, grabbing toothbrushes and a change of clothes, one change of clothes. How long we would be there, we did not know, and for now it was of very little importance. To get there was our mission and we would worry about everything else later, much later. We drove across town to my sisters, and not finding her home, we left our house key in her mailbox so she could tend to our two dogs while we were away. We were out of town and on our way in record time, not pausing to breathe even, we were definitely in “GO” mode. We had a responsibility and we could not delay. The worst part of the trip was the six hours it took us to get there, not knowing what we would find when we arrived. What would we say, what would we do? The “not knowing” was the worst. We relived every conversation that we had had with her lately and tried to convince ourselves that we did all we could do, to no avail. It’s hard to convince yourself that you did plenty when you are up against a wall knowing that you may NEVER be afforded the opportunity to do any more. I remember I tried either to reassure my husband or I just remained completely quiet for the entire ride. I assure you, that you hear every noise the car makes when no words are spoken, but oh how LOUD it is in your head. Every moment continuing; still reliving the things that we could have done. Over and over I repeated the same words in my head, “why was this happening?” We were too young for this. We were the children after all and this certainly wasn’t in our days plan. We weren’t parents and certainly didn’t know how to be parents. Suddenly, life changed for us! We were on our way to the beginning of some very grown up decisions. Decisions we never planned on making till we were much older. Some we didn’t even understand. We arrived at the hospital late Sunday night, finding her in a coma…to never gain consciousness. They began explaining to us all the things that had gone wrong, and we longed for just one thing to go right to give us some HOPE. We quickly learned words like brain damage, ventilator and fetal position. We suddenly used these words interchangeably like they had been a part of our lives forever. She was in a very small hospital, allowing us to stay in the ICU waiting room around the clock. We did not sleep, not one wink until Thursday night. The only “normal” thing we did was brush our teeth in the mornings, in the public bathroom. This small act of “normalcy” was a welcomed event, knowing if the morning came that she had survived one more day. We had her in our lives for one more day. Wednesday night came and we had both just left her room, watching her lie there in the fetal position so helpless. Hearing the words “brain-dead”, “never be the same”, “a vegetable” played over and over in my head like a continuous recording that couldn’t be turned off. “Why couldn’t we help her?” Every time I saw her I put more chap stick on her parched lips, telling myself that I was helping. I told her every time I was in there alone how I would always take care of her son. How I would love him forever and not let her down. This last visit I had pleaded with her to just “let go”, that “it was ok.” I was twenty-four years old, repeating words and phrases that were intended for someone much older. I was becoming not only the wife but the mother. My husband visited her again and upon him entering the waiting room we heard a loud voice over the PA system repeat, “RESPIRATORY THERAPY TO ICU”, “ICU CODE BLUE”, echoing throughout the small hospital. We knew they were speaking of her and we began to pray harder and harder. At this point, tears were streaming down both of our faces. I prayed for wisdom. Words have always come easy for me but suddenly I prayed, “Lord, please give me the right words to say.” Suddenly, almost in unison we revealed to each other that the last time we were in her room we had both plead to her to just “let go”, we would handle the rest. Knowing that they were vigorously working on her as we had this conversation, somehow I felt a moment of relief. They called us back and told us if possible she had taken a “turn for the worse”. This began the “beginning of the end for us.” We began speaking honestly to each other about “letting her go.” We spent the rest of the night and the early part of the next day reading and signing papers that would allow us to end her life. What a decision this was, so much of a decision that I wouldn’t allow my husband’s name to be the only signature! I signed my name right below his as this was a decision that we would make together. This was the biggest decision we had made to date. This was the biggest way I could support him. This is how i would SHOW MY LOVE, by BEING THERE FOR HIM, NOT ONLY NOW, but ALWAYS. The hospital staff was AWESOME!! They were so kind to us and treated us like family. They treated her as if she were their family, as if she were their mother. Thursday would prove to be the last day we would get to have her. We removed her from the only thing sustaining what miserable amount of life she had left. “LIVING” like this would not be what she wanted! “LIVING” like a vegetable would not be what she wanted. “LIVING” in a nursing home at the mere age of 44 WOULD NOT BE WHAT SHE WANTED! The end was here! We stayed with her until her blood pressure was in single digits. We saw her at peace when it was over. We saw her tired body placed in a body bag, helpless and so fragile. Thursday evening we found a motel room and began calling and making arrangements with the funeral home, church, friends, etc. Thursday night we slept. We slept for the first time since Saturday night. Finally it was over! OUR LIFE HAD TRULY CHANGED! When the services were over and we began our car ride back to Texas I began thinking to myself, “what would I learn from this?” I believe EVERYTHING happens for a reason and I would not let this pass by without learning something! I told myself, “I WILL LET HER DEATH TEACH ME TO LIVE!” I would LIVE not only for me, but for her and for her son! When we would have children I would LIVE for them!! I would never put my children in these shoes. I would never make them have to grow up so quickly if I could help it. Ironically as I write this I am remembering in just over two months we will celebrate our 25th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! What a long way we have come in 21 years. I have been there everyday, all 7,665 of them, LIVING my life, showing my husband that LIFE DOES GO ON. We are here for a reason and I am going to make it count.
“LIVE as if you were to die tomorrow”, “LEARN as if you were to live forever.” We are NEVER too old to stop learning!
I WILL LIVE, my cup will not be half full, it will be OVERFLOWING. I WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE. I will make the world different because I WAS HERE. (written summer 2009)
Twenty-one years ago, we were a young married couple, doing what young married couples do…watching television, because it was cheap. Interrupting what was probably our favorite show in the 80’s, the phone violently rang, jolting us from the drama that was unfolding on TV. The voice was random, not recognizable, and she asked for my husband. She identified herself as a nurse at a hospital in Oklahoma and stated that she was tending to my husband’s mother. She briefly explained that my mother-in-law had tried to take her own life, and had done a superb job. She plead to us that if we wanted to speak to her alive we needed to get to her immediately. We were six hours from the hospital and we knew that immediately for us may not be fast enough. We shared a small bag between us, grabbing toothbrushes and a change of clothes, one change of clothes. How long we would be there, we did not know, and for now it was of very little importance. To get there was our mission and we would worry about everything else later, much later. We drove across town to my sisters, and not finding her home, we left our house key in her mailbox so she could tend to our two dogs while we were away. We were out of town and on our way in record time, not pausing to breathe even, we were definitely in “GO” mode. We had a responsibility and we could not delay. The worst part of the trip was the six hours it took us to get there, not knowing what we would find when we arrived. What would we say, what would we do? The “not knowing” was the worst. We relived every conversation that we had had with her lately and tried to convince ourselves that we did all we could do, to no avail. It’s hard to convince yourself that you did plenty when you are up against a wall knowing that you may NEVER be afforded the opportunity to do any more. I remember I tried either to reassure my husband or I just remained completely quiet for the entire ride. I assure you, that you hear every noise the car makes when no words are spoken, but oh how LOUD it is in your head. Every moment continuing; still reliving the things that we could have done. Over and over I repeated the same words in my head, “why was this happening?” We were too young for this. We were the children after all and this certainly wasn’t in our days plan. We weren’t parents and certainly didn’t know how to be parents. Suddenly, life changed for us! We were on our way to the beginning of some very grown up decisions. Decisions we never planned on making till we were much older. Some we didn’t even understand. We arrived at the hospital late Sunday night, finding her in a coma…to never gain consciousness. They began explaining to us all the things that had gone wrong, and we longed for just one thing to go right to give us some HOPE. We quickly learned words like brain damage, ventilator and fetal position. We suddenly used these words interchangeably like they had been a part of our lives forever. She was in a very small hospital, allowing us to stay in the ICU waiting room around the clock. We did not sleep, not one wink until Thursday night. The only “normal” thing we did was brush our teeth in the mornings, in the public bathroom. This small act of “normalcy” was a welcomed event, knowing if the morning came that she had survived one more day. We had her in our lives for one more day. Wednesday night came and we had both just left her room, watching her lie there in the fetal position so helpless. Hearing the words “brain-dead”, “never be the same”, “a vegetable” played over and over in my head like a continuous recording that couldn’t be turned off. “Why couldn’t we help her?” Every time I saw her I put more chap stick on her parched lips, telling myself that I was helping. I told her every time I was in there alone how I would always take care of her son. How I would love him forever and not let her down. This last visit I had pleaded with her to just “let go”, that “it was ok.” I was twenty-four years old, repeating words and phrases that were intended for someone much older. I was becoming not only the wife but the mother. My husband visited her again and upon him entering the waiting room we heard a loud voice over the PA system repeat, “RESPIRATORY THERAPY TO ICU”, “ICU CODE BLUE”, echoing throughout the small hospital. We knew they were speaking of her and we began to pray harder and harder. At this point, tears were streaming down both of our faces. I prayed for wisdom. Words have always come easy for me but suddenly I prayed, “Lord, please give me the right words to say.” Suddenly, almost in unison we revealed to each other that the last time we were in her room we had both plead to her to just “let go”, we would handle the rest. Knowing that they were vigorously working on her as we had this conversation, somehow I felt a moment of relief. They called us back and told us if possible she had taken a “turn for the worse”. This began the “beginning of the end for us.” We began speaking honestly to each other about “letting her go.” We spent the rest of the night and the early part of the next day reading and signing papers that would allow us to end her life. What a decision this was, so much of a decision that I wouldn’t allow my husband’s name to be the only signature! I signed my name right below his as this was a decision that we would make together. This was the biggest decision we had made to date. This was the biggest way I could support him. This is how i would SHOW MY LOVE, by BEING THERE FOR HIM, NOT ONLY NOW, but ALWAYS. The hospital staff was AWESOME!! They were so kind to us and treated us like family. They treated her as if she were their family, as if she were their mother. Thursday would prove to be the last day we would get to have her. We removed her from the only thing sustaining what miserable amount of life she had left. “LIVING” like this would not be what she wanted! “LIVING” like a vegetable would not be what she wanted. “LIVING” in a nursing home at the mere age of 44 WOULD NOT BE WHAT SHE WANTED! The end was here! We stayed with her until her blood pressure was in single digits. We saw her at peace when it was over. We saw her tired body placed in a body bag, helpless and so fragile. Thursday evening we found a motel room and began calling and making arrangements with the funeral home, church, friends, etc. Thursday night we slept. We slept for the first time since Saturday night. Finally it was over! OUR LIFE HAD TRULY CHANGED! When the services were over and we began our car ride back to Texas I began thinking to myself, “what would I learn from this?” I believe EVERYTHING happens for a reason and I would not let this pass by without learning something! I told myself, “I WILL LET HER DEATH TEACH ME TO LIVE!” I would LIVE not only for me, but for her and for her son! When we would have children I would LIVE for them!! I would never put my children in these shoes. I would never make them have to grow up so quickly if I could help it. Ironically as I write this I am remembering in just over two months we will celebrate our 25th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! What a long way we have come in 21 years. I have been there everyday, all 7,665 of them, LIVING my life, showing my husband that LIFE DOES GO ON. We are here for a reason and I am going to make it count.
“LIVE as if you were to die tomorrow”, “LEARN as if you were to live forever.” We are NEVER too old to stop learning!
I WILL LIVE, my cup will not be half full, it will be OVERFLOWING. I WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE. I will make the world different because I WAS HERE. (written summer 2009)
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