Thank you Aunt Mary Lou

   I lost my Dad's side of the family in my Mom and Dad's divorce. I only mentioned this to give a back side to my story. I grew up and started my family, but there was always a piece missing and that was my family. After I had Mario, I started to think about my family and I really wanted to get to know them...to call them my family.
   One Memorial Day, my Dad told me that my Aunt Mary Lou had a family picnic and that I should go. On a whim, I made a casserole and a dessert, loaded the boys into the car and headed to my first Bowlin family picnic in close to fifteen years. That drive was horrible. I was so nervous. What if I didn't fit in? What if...what if.
   We pulled into my Aunt Mary Lou's drive and as I got out of the car, I saw my Aunt Mary Lou. "Little Linda?" She said as she smiled in disbelief. My heart melted instantly and as we hugged, I knew I was home.
   I don't know if she fully sees how much she has touched my life and made it better, but she has in so many ways. She was one of the first people to see my home after I remodeled it. I still remember her word of advice when she told me to always have a freshly cut lawn. If you have a nice lawn, nothing else matters.
   When Sammy was born, she made a quilt for him. I loved this quilt for many reasons. Every time he would go into the hospital, the quilt came too. The material was perfect on his skin and it was so much more comfortable to lay on than hospital sheets. The best part was after everything would settle down and Sammy would be resting comfortably on the quilt, I would lift the corner up to see Aunt Mary Lou's handwriting "For you Sammy, I love you Aunt Mary Lou"
   So on this Thanksgiving Eve, as I sit here thinking of all that I'm thankful for, I would like to make a huge gesture of gratitude to my Aunt Mary Lou. Thank you for all you do and all you all. You are aspiring and an inspiration.

Congenital Heart Defects and Its Lessons

   I never knew heart defects were really real until January 28, 2006. When I first learned that they exist, I screamed inside that they weren't fair. I cried for my baby who had them. As I sat there with a cardiologist alone, except for my four year old son who was busy with the toys in the waiting room, I cried for my son, who still was safely in my womb, for all the suffering that was coming his way when he arrived into the world.
   Somehow, I learned to accept it and move on. I wonder if I could've called myself naive in the sense that I had no idea what the real situation would be. But my teachings tell me to be kind to myself, so I let it go.
   I looked back at the woman I was back then almost seven years later. She was so different than me in so many ways. She was friendly and easy to get along with and she was loving, but she was unkind to herself. She didn't fully live. She accepted what people told her, whether it was right or wrong. She was closed off to herself and her world, barely living.
   My experience with congenital heart defects was the worst and best thing for me. It destroyed my world as I knew it. No longer could I hide from myself, I was forced to ask for help. Many times, the door was shut on my face, but I was forced to keep looking and asking for help. It took my blinders off and forced me to see certain people in my life who hurt me more than they loved me. It forced me to see how strong and determined I really was. It forced me to see that no matter what was thrown at me, I could handle it. It forced me to find my spirituality and embrace it with all of my soul. It forced me to openly show love and to receive it.
   What I learned from my love for my son is I am willing to do whatever it takes for the people I love. I learned to forgive and not judge. I learned to pray for miracles and I learned to accept them and share them with others so they in turn do the same. I learned it takes a village to raise me. I learned to laugh again. I learned gratitude. I learned peace.
  
  
  
  

I am done fighting

   I got Pants ready to go meet with Ms. Shuman today. He was excited that he got to go show her his new book and car. Ms. Shuman meet us in the office with two other women. They did an evaluation with him and had a long talk with me. They asked me what Pants had received in therapy and school so far. I explained my problems with finding a good therapist and the problems I have had receiving a proper diagnosis of Pants condition. They viewed videos I had made of Pants progress. The one teacher told me to start recording him every day because I was able to document and capture the Sammy that he will only show to me.
   The other teacher told me that she recommended that he would benefit greatly with a one-on-one teacher. I started to tell her I thought that would be the best situation for both of us but I couldn't find it. The other teacher chimed in and told me that it wasn't fair but I had to fight for the proper care. I looked at her and quietly said I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't anymore out loud, I was trying very hard to keep from crying. What I wanted to tell her was that I knew what she was saying. I had been fighting for six years to get the proper care for Pants. I know the battle, I've lived it. I know I am quite capable of fighting for the rest of my life, if that is what I needed to do for Pants, but I am beaten, bruised and battered and I believe enough is enough. A month and a half ago, I honestly had no idea what I was going to do, but I decided enough is enough. I said I needed help. Long gone are the visits to professionals that left me feeling alone and hopeless. I refuse to fight, I chose to receive.
   I must have been too quiet for two long because the other teacher spoke up. "Okay here are your choices. You can tour a couple of nearby schools that we believe may help. We will set up the visits and I will go with you. You can continue to home school Sammy and we will bombard him with occupational and speech therapy and you can be his one-on-one. What ever you decide, I will get you the help you both need."
   I started to cry at this, which made the other teacher start to cry. That instant, I felt as if they felt bad that they had to tell a mom that her child needed more help than what she could give him and that he was different.
   I could only thank them because I was too busy holding it together. But I wanted to tell them
I am not crying because you told me my son was different and needed special help, I am crying because I believe you when you say you are going to help me find the help he needs.
   Maybe it took six years and many life lessons, but I trully believe I am at the point where I am no longer fighting, I am only receiving.

Death

   My former EMT partner, Rusty passed on this week and I am having a difficult time dealing with it. This frustrates me because I've experienced death before and my faith and beliefs tell me that death is not really the end.
   Nonetheless, I am heart broken.
   There is only one thing in life that is certain and that is death and yet none of us really prepare ourselves for the inevitable. I am guilty of that. I am guilty of not dealing with the lose of a loved one and instead just pushing the thoughts and pain aside.
   My beliefs tell me that death isn't really the end. I've seen death as a blessing to suffering. My Grandpa died after battling cancer for years. I remember that last time I saw him, standing in the corner of his hospital room watching him fight for every breath he took, quietly thinking, "Just let go, Grandpa. It's ok. Please stop doing this to yourself." Even though I was relieved that he wasn't suffering anymore, it took me years to get over his passing. But now, I feel him around and I know he is happy and free.
   As an EMT, I learned that death comes when it wants to and when it comes, there is nothing that you are taught in a classroom to stop it. One night, my partner and I were called to a house to pick up a young man that had been drinking all night and had suffered a beating from a "friend". I guided him into the back of the ambulance and we drove off to the hospital. He looked banged up, but his vitals were fine and he didn't seem to bad. I was asking him questions and writing up my report when he grabbed my arm and told me that he was dying. It startled me for a moment so I rechecked him. He still seemed fine so I told him that it was just the alcohol talking and he was going to be fine. I wheeled him into a hospital room and left him with a couple of nurses. A few hours later, our supervisor told us that he had a brain bleed and died. I asked my partner if it was my fault, after all he told me he was dying. My partner just shook his head and said there was nothing either of us could do and I should just forget about it. I never forgot about it, but I don't beat myself up over it anymore. When it is your time, nothing will stop it.
   So I have beaten myself up because I know Rusty is somewhere that is alot better than here and I know he is around, looking after all that he loved. And I accept that this was Rusty's time and it is silly of me to expect him to live forever in this world.
   And I realize that my heart is broken because my relationship with Rusty as we knew it is gone. No longer will his name come up on my phone screen. No longer will we make plans of meeting for lunch. No longer will I try to hug him only for him to start yelling that we don't hug.
   Death ends things as we know it but it doesn't take that person from your heart, it just changes the relationship.

Therapists

I recently enrolled my son into an online kindergarten program. I was on the phone with his principal informing her of his situation. I told her that he has an elongated thumb on his left hand and unfortunately he is left handed. I told her that his handwriting is a challenge. She cut me off and asked if he had ever received occupational therapy. I cringed at this question. Of course he has had therapy. After waiting lists and negotiating with my insurance company, he was graced with therapists. One spent an entire session carrying him around trying to find an open office. A speech therapist spent a session trying to figure out how to work a communicator. An occupational therapist told me that he was a disiplinary problem, even though I told her he just didn't like her because she was too stern with him. I could go on and on with my struggles with therapists and I wanted to share my experiences with the principle because clearly she lived in a fantasy world where great therapists are granted to every child in need. Instead I told her he did, but he wasn't receiving therapy at this time. Moments like these make me feel inadequate somewhat. And the principal's question stuck with me until I opened a letter from Sammy's neurolical doctor.
The doctor's nurse sent me Sammy's diagnosis of his mental capacities. I started to read the report of his speech pathologist. In her report she states:
"Significiant negative behavior characterized by throwing chairs and refusing to participate."
"Subject needs speech-language therapy with increased frequency."
"Subject needs to be enrolled in a structured, develpmental preschool as soon as possible."
Up to the moment that I read this report, I had forgotten all about that evaluation. But as I laid the report down on my desk, the memories flooded back to me as if it happened yesterday.
That morning of the evaluation, I sat in the waiting room of the hospital. The room was full and Sammy sat on my lap not wanting anyone to notice him. A tiny little girl with long blond hair walked up to us and just stood there smiling at Sammy. She wouldn't give up even though he tried to ignore her. Finally he slid off my lap and the two of them played together. I looked up to see her mom sitting across the room with tears in her eyes that matched mine. I was so lost in the moment that the pathologist startled me when she approached me. I told her that Sammy did better when I wasn't around and asked her if I could stay in the waiting room. She told me it was routine to have a parent in the room while testing. We followed her into a room and Sammy climbed onto my lap and hid from her. No matter what she said or did, he wasn't having any of it. I mentioned to her that I shouldn't have been there. She told me I should leave. I told her that Sammy wouldn't let me leave without him, but she insisted and he had a meltdown. She talked loudly over his screams to inform me that he needed to be in a developmental school. I told her I would love that, but I had been searching for one in my area. I asked her if she knew of any and she said no. I picked Sammy up and left.
I managed to hold my tears in until we were in the car. I was pissed and frustrated. Why couldn't I find anyone who wanted to help me. Why couldn't I find anyone who wanted to listen to me. The session would have went totally different if she would have listened to me and taken Sammy back by himself. Why would she tell me a school was my only hope and not know of a school. I'm sure she tells moms all day long that there are these magic schools all around just sitting there waiting to make your child well.
That session was the point in my life when I quit asking for help. I realized Sammy was making progress. I realized Sammy received therapy everyday, all day. Even though I never had any formal education, I was a occupational, physical and speech therapist. I guided him to overcome his inability to swallow, to sit up, to walk. I recorded his alphabet session the other day and he can verbally say most of the alphabet.
Maybe there is a magical place where everything is handed to you, but I don't know of such place. I do know of my magical world where I have the love and strength to help my child.
I set up an appointment for Sammy to be evaluated by the same pathologist in a few months. I hope I don't tell her to suck it when she realized Sammy had overcome all the issues she listed..without the magical developmental school.
The medical field may never change and really its not for me to say its right or wrong, but I can change my reaction to it.
Long gone are the drives home crying out of frustration...........

Brotherly Love

Yesterday morning I became ill. Sammy had developed the illness and decided to share it.
I worked through the illness, taking the boys to get groceries and retreiving Bruno from a friends house. By the afternoon, my head and throat hurt and my body was aching. I announced that I was going to lay down for a while.
As I laid there with my eyes closed, trying to visualize that I was well and active, I braced myself for at least one of my children to barge into my room either with a question or a request. No one came in, in fact the whole house was quiet. I soon fell asleep.
Forty five minutes past when I was awoken by Bruno lovingly talking to Sammy. Sammy had made a mess of himself and Bruno was explaining why he needed a bath. Normally I would have gotten up to take over the situation, but instead I laid there listening to my son take care of his little brother with compassion and strong guidance.
Bruno and Sammy have had a bond even before Sammy was born. Bruno, age ten, would put his hands on my belly and he would say "Hello Sammy! Its your brother Bruno!" Instantly Sammy would start kicking and rolling, as if he was trying to get out to be with Bruno. This interaction continued when Sammy came out into the world as a critically ill baby. I can't imagine how Bruno felt walking up to his baby brother's bed seeing him unconscious with tubes and wires covering his whole body. Bruno would quietly touch Sammy's hand or the top of his head and he would whisper hello. I would watch the nurse brace herself because Sammy's respirations would speed up which would trigger an alarm because he would breath past his ventilator and his blood pressure would spike suddenly. Bruno would be scared at first until one day I told him that was the only way Sammy could tell him hello back.
Bruno took Sammy's illnesses hard and it was always so difficult to see all my boys in so much pain, in their own ways.
When Bruno was in the fourth grade, his class was going to go on a four day camping trip. Sammy was due for a diagnostic heart cath so I scheduled it for when Bruno was gone, thinking we would be back home before Bruno was. I didn't tell Bruno about it, instead the days leading to the camping trip, I focused on the trip. It was all about Bruno and for the first time in a long time, he was happy and excited.
The heart cath went terribly wrong and Sammy was still in the hospital when Bruno arrived back home. As I saw the fear and sadness engulf Bruno once again, I tried to be thankful for those precious days at camp when he was allowed to be a kid.
One day when Sammy and I were staying at the hospital, my ex-husband called me telling me I had to come home because there was something wrong with Bruno. I came home for the evening, planning to return to the hospital the next morning. Bruno was sullen and quiet as I drove him to his football practice. As I parked the car, we both just sat there.
"It's not fair Mom. I can do anything I want and Sammy can't! He will never play sports! He may die!" Bruno blurted out as tears rolled down his face. The pain in the car was unbearable and I couldn't speak for fear of breaking down myself. I took a deep breath and told him that Sammy would never want Bruno to stop doing something he loved just because he couldn't. I said soon, Sammy would be in the bleachers cheering Bruno on and he would be so proud to say Bruno was his big brother. This eased the pain a little so I threw a joke in. I told him Sammy may not even care that he couldn't play sports. Not every boy wants to play sports. I reminded him of his Uncle Sam, my brother. Uncle Sam hated sports. I said "Hell, Uncle Sam can't walk and chew gum at the same time!" This made Bruno chuckle and reach for the door handle.
"Go out there and play for yourself and know Sammy is proud to have you. I love you so much!" I said as I patted him on the shoulder. The coach was standing outside the car and he wrapped his arm around Bruno as they walked away from me. As I stood there watching the coach and Bruno walk away from me I was so thankful for the coach to take over because I had nothing left in me.
Wrestling season came shortly after football and I missed most of Bruno's season due to spending most of the time with Sammy in the hospital.
One weekend, my sister Lorrie and my mom came to the hospital so I could go watch Bruno wrestle in a tournament. I didn't tell him I was going, I just showed up at the last minute. It was a tough match to watch at first because the other kid had the upper hand and Bruno was taking a beating. I sat in the bleachers holding my breath when I realized everyone had surrounded the mat and all you could hear was people chanting Bruno's name. All the coaches were excitedly screaming at Bruno, instructing him what to do. I had to smile at two of the coaches as they put each other in the moves that they wanted Bruno to do. Finally Bruno got the upper hand and pinned his opponent. The gym went crazy with cheers and excitement. Before I knew it, Bruno had ran up into the bleachers to give me his ribbon and a kiss as he always did after he won.
He froze when he reached me to find I was crying. He quietly asked if Sammy was ok. I told him yes. Bruno asked why I was crying.
"I'm sorry I'm crying...its good tears. I'm so overwhelmed at watching how strong you are and how you didn't quit and just give in. I'm so proud of you Bruno for so many different ways!" I said as I stood up and joined in the cheering of my boy.
I don't know why I was so blessed to be the mom of such extraordinary children but I thank God everyday.

Seeking A Life Coach...What Do You Have To Lose?

My former life coach turned good friend were talking yesterday about how so many people could benefit from coaching, but for their own reasons don't.
He said I was maybe unique in the fact that I pursued him and allowed him to help me. I didn't tell him this, but I disagreed with him to so some degree. I needed him. My person (angel, spirit guide, inner self...what ever name you put to that inner voice in you that helps guide you) was screaming at me that I was dangerously close to losing myself and I desperately needed help. I had no choice but to let my coach be my tool to find myself. It made me think of an excerpt of my book.
"Once again, I wrote down my answers wondering why my coach had me do this homework. It didn't matter what I wanted out of life. What mattered was getting the help Sammy needed and trying to keep a roof over the boys' head.
It hurts to think how lost I was just a few months ago. I had completely given up on myself as a human being. I was on the Earth to serve purposes, but I lacked the ability to see that my life had purpose."
This saddened me because I think a lot of people just go through life barely living...barely content and fulfilled. We both questioned how to bring people to their awareness without any good ideas.
How do you convince someone to jump out of their comfort zone and find themselves?
I laughed at myself today as I went through my day trying to figure out a solution when it dawned on me to make an intention that people could start listening to their person telling them that they are so much more than the labels they put over their head. They learn love and peace and they become their own lights of love shining on everyone they meet.
Everyone can learn and share their love...all they have to do is do it. Quiet your mind and listen to your person and let that lead you to happiness.

Counting My Blessings

My guy Andrew (I think I'm way to old to call him my boyfriend ;) ) came over for a bonfire tonight. Mario was so elated to have him come over because they are so much alike and Andrew understands him like no other. Sammy was so happy to see Andrew..they all love him so very much.
Sammy discovered fire by marshmallow. I was sitting by Andrew as we watched Sammy catch his marshmallow on fire and then try to blow the flames out. I must admit, I wanted to grab the stick from him for fear of him burning himself but I sat back and let Andrew guide him and let him be a typical six year old boy.
Andrew always has that knack where he allows Sammy to be a little boy and he's protective enough to do it safely.
It became late and everyone was getting tired. Andrew suddenly announced that he was going home and I was content to let him go so I could get the boys to bed.
We have an unique relationship where he breezes in and becomes the best "Step Dad" and then he goes home so I can tend to the boys.
Maybe its bizarre that we don't plan to join our households together any time soon, but it works for us and it brings us happiness.
All day, I have thought of a time when Sammy was in the hospital with septic shock, anemia and heart failure. Andrew showed up at the hospital without me asking. The woman from the transport department wheeled a wheelchair into Sammy's room to take us to a test. I've done this more times than I care to admit...I sit in the wheelchair and hold Sammy on my lap while some stranger pushed us to a testing area. This time was different in the fact where she called Andrew "Dad" and asked him if he wanted to push our wheelchair. As Andrew pushed us down the hall, I felt a great sense of protection and love. He even made us all laugh when he pushed us into the elevator with us facing the back of the elevator. The woman made a comment and Andrew quickly turned us around so we didn't look goofy with our backs faced against everyone who entered.
So maybe I don't have the traditional life, but I'm so grateful for the one I have and I'm very grateful to have Andrew as the "Step Dad from hell" as Mario jokingly but lovingly calls him.

Reiki Share

Last night, I attended my first Reiki Share. I almost didn't go because I was in a bad mental state. I allowed my son Sammy to go with his father over the weekend and he came home with an ear infection because his father let him swim in a lake at his girlfriend's house. Sammy has malformed ear canals that has caused chronic ear infections and surgeries. I specifically told my exhusband to keep him out of water. I was angry at my exhusband for not caring enough to be a protective parent and then the old anger came through of how he just uses Sammy to get attention. "Look at me! I got a sick kid!"
The car ride to my Reiki Share meeting consisted of me trying to let go of the anger and the need to choke my exhusband so he could feel as bad as Sammy did with his ear oozing puss. My head and neck were pounding with tension.
As soon as I walked into the dim lite room full of incense and new age music, my anger subsided.
We talked and shared and I quickly felt light and free. I truly have great love for this wonderful group of people who have shown me so much in such a little amount of time.
In one exercise, we were instructed to close our eyes and put our hands in the prayer position. We were to slowly cup our hands so it looked like we were holding a ball and in that ball was nothing but great love.
As I filled my ball with love, I felt it with every cell in my body. I became nothing but love. As our instructor told us to open our eyes and send it to the person facing us, I was elated to see my person was "R", someone I had grown to love, respect and admire. As we looked at each other and sent each other our love, I found it almost overwhelming, it was so powerful. My body vibrated and I felt so safe and complete.
I left the meeting feeling light in my step. I stopped at a store to buy a vitamin water and I almost told the cashier I had love for her. I silently giggled at myself, but love is so much greater than anger.
I went home and shared with my boys what happened and I could feel the air of my home change because I changed it. I filled my home with love.
My instructor passed out a paper that had a prayer on it and she suggested that we should say it every morning, which I did first thing this morning. I want to share it and suggest you say it too...it is awesome!

Just for today, I will let go of Anger
Just for today, I will let go of Worry
Just for today, I will count My Many Blessings
Just for today, I will do My Work Honestly
Just for today, I will be Kind to Every Living Creature
Just for today, I will Love Myself