Weary Spirit

Your death has cut me down like a tree in the forest.
I was once majestic and strong.
You were my roots.
You kept me anchored.
You kept me steadfast and upright reaching for the sun, the moon, and the stars.
Now we have been traumatically separated.
You have been amputated from my life.
I have fallen to the ground, helpless and afraid.
I am at the mercy of this loss.
It drags me where it will.
I am powerless to prevent being cut deeper and deeper.
Soon I am nothing but dust.
I will never be that tree again.
Perhaps a small acorn of my life fell beside the place where that tree used to stand.
Perhaps with your love in my heart a new tree will grow.

I miss you my beautiful son. The pain of this time is quite unbearable. God how I wish I could have done something to save you from this. Please come home to your Mama.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Father's Day

How do you "celebrate" Father's Day when you have lost one of your children? The answer is we don't! Last year at this time Nick had been in the hospital since June 5th. Nick had the lung biopsy done on June 19th and so he spent Father's Day on a breathing machine with tubes coming out of his body in every direction. He was in a lot of pain and for the first forty-eight hours it was all they could do to get him sedated and out of pain. Glenn and I hovered around his bed for hours trying to calm him, soothe him, and get him comfortable in any way we could. Today I realized that Father's Day passed for all of us without notice. Nick didn't even know it was Father's Day. The lung biopsy was the start of several extremely rocky weeks. Poor Nick suffered so much and Glenn, Sara, Kate & I right along with him.

Today Glenn and I cried once again about the loss of our beautiful, sweet boy. The pain cuts deeply and without surcease. A few weeks ago I found some old Father's Day cards that Nickolas had given to his Dad. They just break my heart. If only I could bring back my little man with his Donald Duck flip flops. If only I didn't have to see his Birkenstock sandals sitting by his bed every day, reminding me he will never walk on this Earth ever again.

"My son, a perfect little boy of five years and three months, had ended his earthly life. You can never sympathize with me; you can never know how much of me such a young child can take away. A few weeks ago I accounted myself a very rich man, and now the poorest of all."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson, on the death of his son

Forever Young

Little Flower

The days go on. Nick should have been at Bonnaroo with his sister and his friends, listening to music and enjoying being young and healthy. Nick missed two years of Bonnaroo due to his leukemia. When Nick was diagnosed, he had to cancel a trip that had already been planned for June of that year. We both fully believed that he would be well enough to go the following year. Instead Nick was in the hospital again. I can barely read the notes from those days without completely breaking down. I am falling apart little by little, emotionally and physically. Anyway, sometimes somebody else can say it better. Click here. I miss you my sweet boy. I love you more than a wagon full of puppies. The pain of missing you is ever in my heart. If only this could be undone, my heart would burst with joy. Please come home to see us. Mom

"A good traveler has no fixed plan, and is not intent on arriving." ~Lao Tzu

Please VOTE!

This picture looks like my crazy cat "Spock." We adopted Spock in December. Spock has been good medicine for Sara & I. Not so much for Glenn. Spock has really come out of his shell and he is a bittersweet reminder of how Nick wanted to get a cat when he got better.

Not going to go into much of anything today. Mainly I wanted to ask everyone to check out this link and go vote for Jimmie Johnson's Pepsi Refresh Project. There are three drivers each with their own project idea. The driver who gets the most votes will receive $100K to go to their project. Jimmie's Pepsi Refresh idea is to provide financial relief for kids undergoing bone marrow transplants through the Be The Match Foundation. This project can help so many kids and families facing many different kinds of cancers where transplant is an option for a cure. You can vote as many times in a day as you wish. So please pass the info along to friends and family.
Dr. Spock wants you to VOTE today and as often as you can until 6PM on June 23rd.

Get Out of Jail Free

Today is almost over. Sometimes I am so glad when a day is over and I can move on to the next one.

Today brought back a flood of memories. This date will forever now be tied together with good and bad memories.

Today is Sara's 24th birthday. Was it really twenty-four years ago that I held my newborn daughter in my arms, while her big brudder looked at his new baby sister with a big grin on his face.

Today, one year ago, Sara was celebrating another birthday. We were all supposed to go to the party. Instead Nick had to go back to the hospital. Nick didn't want to go. I truly thought it would just be a couple days and we would get Nick back home. Nick wanted to go to his sister's birthday party so badly. I don't know if he would have been able to tolerate it though. His breathing had just gotten worse and worse. He wasn't even sure if he would be OK riding in the car all the way to the hospital.

I have been having a lot of recalls of all the bad memories of Nick's final hospital stay. I have been feeling terrible. I am not a "politically correct" griever. I have nothing good or kind or sweet to say. I am so angry. I have no patience for drivers who are idiotic, bad singers, rude store clerks, or anything that rubs me the wrong way (which is just about everything these days!) I curse at the television. I don't want to leave my house ever. I hate going out, I am worn out before I even step out the door. I am physically falling apart and I am emotionally drained. I took care of Nick for fifteen months and then I jumped back into some version of what is now my life. I HATE life right now. I feel like a two year old having a temper tantrum 24/7.

I am tired of trying to figure out how to get people to understand this horrible experience. How could they? What do I want a medal or something? I don't know what I want. I am so confused. I know people "care" but people have their own lives and they just don't have time to worry about me and my problems. I get it. I know people have their own problems. My experience is mine alone. Nobody else can KNOW what I went through with Nick on a daily basis for fifteen months. For the most part, lives went on while ours was in the shitter. I get that. It happens all the time. It's happening right now. People are locked up in the cancer hospitals all over the world getting "life-saving" chemicals pumped into their bodies. Some people care; some people don't. Why should my situation be any different.

I am so tired. Tired of thinking, tired of reading books, tired of feeling exhausted all the time, tired of making decisions, tired of paying bills, tired of household chores and duties, tired of everything. I guess I am just tired of living life right now, because this is what life is for most of us. I can't see the happy, pretty, rainbows. I am not a happy, pretty, rainbow kind of person. I had enough issues before all this, now I have taken a nose dive into an even darker abyss. I see no solution. Nick is gone forever. My son is DEAD!!! When I get angry or frustrated over something, I just throw it right out there. It's like the "race card" or a "GET OUT OF JAIL FREE" card, only I call it the "dead son card."

Nobody likes when I use the "dead son card." Many have asked me where I get my sense of entitlement. This comes from the angry me that wants to know why my son got picked out of the whole universe to get leukemia? Why Nick had to get the freaking lung complications? Why Nick had to have the most arrogant batch of know-it-all doctors and some nurses who always knew better than we did what Nick was going through? Yes, I feel I am entitled to ALL THE EMOTIONS THAT COME WITH THIS GRIEF ROLLER COASTER! I am sure the anger will eat me alive before I ever find my way off this god damn ride. In the meanwhile, I will play the "dead son" card as often as I want, at any time and for any reason, BECAUSE I FREAKIN' FEEL LIKE I AM GOING TO GET SOMETHING OUT OF THIS FREAKIN' RAW DEAL THAT I HAVE BEEN DEALT!! Notice how it is all about me! Yes, yes, selfish and pathetic me. I don't know what I think this accomplishes. I know it is nothing. I know Nick is the one who died, but, now I (and the collective we, trying to keep it full on about me here!) have to deal with the consequences. I have to figure out WTF to do with my life now. I can't figure out how to pretend this all didn't happen and move on. How does one effing do that???? I really wanna know.

Now you see how that whole little tirade is just not very PC? You can believe I am not spouting stuff like this amongst the unsuspecting public who assume I am "doing OK." If only they wanted to know how I am really doing. Why am I so ungrateful for the blessings in my life? I know I still have so many good things in my life. I have a life, but, right now I am missing my sweet and beautiful son so much every day. I am hurting every day! My wounds are invisible and they are serious. Just because you cannot see them does not mean they are not there. If I was in shock trauma, I would be listed as "critical, but stable." I am not out of the woods yet.

A Fragile Creature

The loud thud on the window pane
Startled them all into action.
They gathered around and
Stared down at the bird on the pavement.
With eyes wide open, its feathered breast calm and still,
It appeared to be only stunned by the impact.
Surely in a moment it would rise and take flight.
A gentle hand scooped the bird up
With hope to render aide.
It was then they found its broken neck.