Merry Christmas to All

It's just two days before the magical day of Christmas.  I'm snuggled on my sofa in a super warm blanket while Sookie and Kelly snooze away.  Emory is awake and moving around to let me know he's ok.  It's a pretty fantastic morning.

Many of my blog posts have been about my status as a bereaved parent, like this post from last December.  I think other than my physiological being as a female, this is the most predominant part of who I am.  Maybe other bereaved moms feel the same.

This year, you have seen many posts about my impending motherhood.  This baby boy inside me has transformed not only my body, but also my heart and mind.  Although my heart still weeps with sadness at the absence of my Olivia, it also swells with joy in anticipation of her brother who is on his way.  Instead of focusing on the memories of the last four Christmases without her, I am more able to think of her first Christmas.  I vividly recall Santa coming to our home so that we could get those precious photos of her in a black velvet and gold satin dress without exposing her to all the icky illness around.  I can remember with a smile the first time she chose the color of lights on our tree and thus started the blue Christmases.  The tears in my eyes as I write this are joyful, not sad.

There will never be a Christmas for me that isn't tinged with sadness.  However, for the first time in a long, long time, there is more happiness than that and it wins.  I am happy this Christmas.  I have a loving husband who is going to be a wonderful father.  I have a job I love.  I have friends and family that keep me in line with love and humor.  AND, the best of all, it's only a few short weeks until I can hold my son in my arms.

I wish to each of you that your holidays, however you celebrate them, are filled with the people and things you love.  If you're like me and love it, I wish for a peaceful, snowy day, too!   Merry Christmas to all.  May your world be everything you want and need!

Orphaned at 32, Adopted at 37

There are parts of my life that seem like fiction.  Let's face it, for those of us who believe in God, why would God let any single, decent human being suffer the magnitude of loss I had by the time I was 34?  I still wonder that on my really bad days and it has nothing to do with being ungrateful for the very good things in my life now.

My parents were divorced.  I never lived with my father in my memory.  My sister and I saw him often until I was about 11.  Now, we didn't have the kind of arrangement that is common today.  We never went to his house to visit over a weekend or even a night.  He came to us on Saturdays.  His visits diminished rapidly, then stopped.  I don't remember what brought about the knowledge that he was sick.  We found out he had ALS, Lou Gherig's disease.  I think I was sheltered from it.  My older sister was in nursing school, so I believe she knew more.  It seems to me that the whole process went so very quickly.  We were able to visit him a few times and then he died.  It was awful.  I feel like I barely knew him.  I had just turned 13 and was never going to know him.

My mom was a pistol!  She was the epitome of the independent, single mother.  She did it when it wasn't the norm.  She was on her own in the mid-70s.  She carpooled an hour to  and from work, then came home and helped on the tobacco farm where we lived.  She had grown up as one of 10 children.  The majority of the brothers kept up the farm.  Their impact is a whole other blog.  She was a very involved member of her church and we were there every time the doors opened.

My mom smoked.  She worked for a major tobacco company for 31 years and smoked for double that.  Five months before she died, she was diagnosed with lung cancer.  It's an ugly thing to watch.  I highly recommend quitting smoking if it's something you do.

Two days after her 75th birthday, just after I turned 32, as my sister and I held her, our mother died.  That early morning, I became an adult orphan.

Fast forward to 2010.  Kelly and I met 23 years ago when his sister and I were friends in high school.  In 2010, we reconnected and the rest is history.  One of the best things about our relationship, for me, is feeling so loved and accepted by his family.  His parents and mother, particularly, treats me like her own.  Maybe I just feel more connected because that's what I know; having a mother.  It's as if the day I married him I was adopted and am no longer an orphan.  October 29, 2011 is very special to me for more than one reason.

Jerry or The Coyote?

Were you a WB or H-B Cartoon junkie as a kid?  This is for those of us who grew up on actual cartoons.  I could go either way, but I was more of a Tom and Jerry   groupie until high school.  I'm not sure why, but around that time, I fell in love with Wile E. Coyote.  I think it was my friend Mikki's dog, when I ponder a bit.  He had a Wile E. that was his baby.... carrying on...I used to sit in my living room on Saturday mornings and do the dreaded Mrs. Brown's Notebook while watching Looney Toons. 

I've always been a cheerleader for the underdog.  That's a whole different cartoon if you look closely enough. I digress....

Who among us didn't want Jerry or Wile E. to win just once??? I know that could have potentially  meant the ends of some of the most lucrative entertainment of its time.  Sometimes, I feel like an underdog in life.  On one of my more pity party days, I feel like I have an invisible "kick me" sticker on my back that only Life can see.  I wanted to see Wile E. win regularly.  At that point in life, I only worried that the patients in a hospital (I was a bona fide candystriper) might smell a hint of my perfume.  Now, I want to see every single ACME product crush that annoying Roadrunner in the time it takes his dust cloud to puff.  I want Jerry to stick his chest out only once more before Tom catches him and stomps him with a massive paw just before the WB logo and Porky Pig tell us ba- dib- a- dib- a- dib- a- dib That's All Folks!  I want the skies to part and the sun to shine down on me infinitely or at least for a month or so.  I want all the people I love to get their worries under control.  I want to build the family I desperately want without anymore drama.  I want whatever it takes to bring smiles to my face and the faces of those I love.  I want to win over the Roadrunners and Jerries in my life.  Is that too much to ask?

Ta da!

I don't care about the nuances.  I don't care about the idiosyncrasies.  I don't care about the flat out disagreements.  I love being married to Kelly.  I love looking at the pictures of that magical day.  I love knowing I come home to him from my 12 jobs.  I love turning over in my sleepless nights and finding his strong shoulders to squeeze.  This, my friends, is the good life.

You Like Happy Ending?

If you've read my bio, you know I've had bad luck in the way of love.  There are always two sides to every story, at least in most cases.  But, honestly, both of mine were directly related to the mens' lack of will and character needed to raise a child with special needs.  Not even her father could do it after the second year.

Kelly and I met when he was 12 and I was 15.  I'm working on 38 now so it's been a while.  We realized who each other was again when his sister found me on MySpace (tumbleweeds blowing by) during my daughter's last months.  She brought me up to speed on his life.  I don't know what he was hearing or thinking.  I kept up with him, but when your only child is dying is not the time to stalk someone into a relationship.  It took a couple of years.  We'd been chatting online, but Mr. Shyness held off.  I was chomping at the bit!  When we saw each other for the the first time, it was kind of sparky.  BUT, it was still four months before he asked me out.  Since then, we've been on the fast track.  It's kind of like Thunder Road.  It's not the tallest, fastest roller coaster at Carowinds anymore, and it's a little jerky and rough in places, but it still gives you major thrills.  We are incredibly passionate about each other and both brick-wall stubborn.

Maybe this time, it's like a special massage parlor...maybe this time I get my happy ending. I would definitely like one, but I'm not going to count on it until someone says it's legal.