Even in Our Darkest Hours.......

As most of you who know me know, I may not be fearless in most walks of my life, but in blogging, I typically am. I usually have no fear of what I say or how I say it. Today though is different. 

I have wanted to write today's blog piece for a while, and when I finally got the permission to do so, all my writing fearlessness flew out the window, so it has taken me a while to get here. Why? Because this piece is about someone whose faith and strength astounds me. I am in awe of her and I want my words to do her story and her words justice. 

I feel this story is hugely important and should be told with the grace and dignity in which it has been lived. I know, like myself, others will hear this story and find their own healing and inspiration in it. This story, simply can't help but touch others deeply and profoundly, and I only hope that my telling of it will honor all involved. 

Years ago, I had a little hair and nail salon in our little town. I was the nail tech and my days were spent doing two things I loved, doing nails and talking to people. While I loved all of my clients, there were a few that were special to my heart. One of those was an amazing woman named Tutti. Her name alone provoked a smile and her outlook on life and the vivaciousness of her spirit lived up to her name. 

My nail table was tucked out of the way in a little corner of the shop, with good reason. When my favorites came in, often we spent a great deal of time laughing. Tutti wasn't only one of my favorites because of her spirit and personality, she was also one of my favorites because she gave me free rein over her nails. She would say, "What do you think suits me this time?" She would walk out with everything from palm trees, to fish, to tropical birds on her nails and she always seemed to love whatever I did. 

Tutti's favorite subject to talk about during her nail appointments was her kids and most especially,  her beautiful little curly-haired daughter named Stephanie. She would always walk in, sit down and say, "Now ask me what they did this week." Then she would regale me with some hilarious story that Stephanie or the boys did. It was obvious those kids were her heart and I loved every story she told. 

Eventually, I sold my shop and moved on. Too many hours smelling perms and acetone took its toll on me and I got out of the business. In time I lost track of my customers, even my favorites. Years later, I was doing a cancer walk at the old high school track when I was told that Tutti had battled cancer and had lost her battle a few years earlier. It made me tremendously sad that I had lost track of her and had not known this. 

It was at this same walk, that Tutti's daughter Stephanie was pointed out to me. She too was there for the walk. She was at this time,  a grown young woman, and a striking beauty. I immediately walked up to her and introduced myself, telling her that I knew her mother and that I was so sorry for her loss. Stephanie had no idea who I was, but she was kind and gracious and so amazingly poised. I saw so much of Tutti in her. 

Skip ahead to just several years ago. My David was in grade school and he was going through a really rough time with a lot of sudden changes in his school life that were prompting a great deal of seizure activity. I was at a crossroads trying to decide whether continuing in school was even the right path for him or not. Then along came Stephanie. She was an RN that had previously worked at the cancer center, but had changed jobs and been hired by the school district after her son was born. With all the issues David had been having, the school realized that they were on the verge of losing him as a student, and that at the time, he needed someone more medically based than a para, so they put Stephanie with him. It was one of the wisest decisions they had made at the time. In a lot of ways, Stephanie turned David's world around and in her, he found compassion and stability at the school that I don't think he had felt in the presence of others. 

Stephanie literally was a game changer for David and through her care and kindness, she gave him the  dignity and respect, that others had neglected in showing him. Her nursing skills were a Godsend too as she was ever vigilant where his seizures were concerned, and if she ever became concerned with his health, she didn't hesitate to bring those concerns straight to me. It gave me a peace of mind with David and school that I hadn't had for a while. 

The impact that Stephanie's presence had on David was so amazing, but deep in my heart, I knew that working at the school was not to be Stephanies true path, so when I was told she was leaving the school district, I was not surprised. I was even less surprised when I found out that she was going back to work at the cancer center. This was where her heart truly was at. 

Like time always does, it moved on. I kept in touch with Stephanie as all of us in the 21st century do, through social media. I watched Stephanie and her husband Jeff have kids and raise them. They were a beautiful family and they were busy with sports and coaching little league, moving homes and jobs, and establishing a life full of love and adventures that they shared in their pictures and posts. It was a joy to watch and a bright spot in my day to see Stephanie's posts. 

True to her kind nature, she often also posted about her job, or more often, her patients posted about her and how she had helped them through chemo and on their cancer journey. There were also the sweetest posts from Jeff on her timeline as he celebrated her on birthdays and anniversary's and Stephanie showed the same love in return. It was as if, even as young as they were, they realized what they had in each other and they were grateful for every moment they shared together. 

On July 11, 2019, as I skimmed a post Stephanie had made, I stopped reading mid sentence and had to start reading the whole post again. What I read literally brought tears to my eyes. I am sure that I was not alone. 

Jeff had been having some "concerning symptoms" and after going to the ER, they learned that he had a mass in his brain. After a brain biopsy, they learned that he did in fact have a Glioblastoma, which for those of us who don't speak oncology, this was a very aggressive brain tumor. Being true to the nurse that she is, in the same post, Stephanie was already in fight mode and she and Jeff were getting a game plan in place in which they had every intention of giving this cancer a run for its money. I was sure that if anyone could do it, this family could. 

Say what you will about small towns, but ours is a pretty awesome place. The minute word was out about Jeff's battle, our town vowed to battle right along with him. Stephanie and Jeff had an amazing circle of family and friends which grew exponentially in the days, weeks, months, and years that followed. People were reaching out to help this family in any way they could. There were fundraisers, t-shirts, and prayer requests going out to all churches, all faiths, and all people. While I am sure at times that Stephanie and Jeff felt this battle was a solitary quest, the fact was, there was love and prayers coming at them from all directions, especially from those whom Stephanie had been there for during their own cancer journey's. 

In the weeks that followed, you couldn't go anywhere without seeing "Team Hoag" and "Hoag Strong" t-shirts, and social media was filled with posts of family, friends, and strangers sporting the t-shirts in support of  Jeff and his family. The love and kindness this couple had given out so freely to others, was now coming back to them a thousandfold. This family was not fighting alone. 

Even though I never had the pleasure of meeting Jeff, I prayed for him daily and for Stephanie and the kids, because I knew from my own family experience with cancer, that it affected the entire family. I had read a little about Glioblastoma and I knew that this family was in for a rough road ahead. 

Early on, someone had posted on FB, "God gives the toughest battles to his strongest soldiers." This proved to be such a true statement. Jeff and Stephanie knew the odds of survival from this type of cancer, and yet they decided regardless of the outcome, cancer would not win! They refused to allow this monster to damage or destroy their lives, even when things got really tough. 

Anyone who has gone through cancer or loved someone through cancer, knows there are good days and bad days and sometimes those bad days are really, really bad. There are doctors appointments and specialists that often require travel to see, and through it all, the disease can become the focal point of your life. Cancer just seems to take control, and yet through sheer willpower and determination, Jeff and Stephanie fought cancer like champs and somehow continued to live their lives even in the throes of battle. They took vacations, family photos, celebrated holidays, coached sports and shared life, made memories with their kids, and shared laughter and love with family and friends. 

Jeff lived fearlessly and touched lives with his faith and indomitable spirit. Never did you see a picture that he wasn't smiling in and never did you read a post that gratitude for the life he had and all that he had been given wasn't in every word. Rather than let cancer consume him and make him bitter, he used it as a gift to spur on faith in others and motivate both old and young with the knowledge that even a disease like cancer only has power over us, if we allow it power. He never once gave it power. 

Cancer, though it may only strike one in the family, is very much a family disease. Stephanie, being an oncology nurse, remained hopeful but realistic. Her posts gave a candid look into her world.  She was holding on for dear life to her husband, her family, and her future, and yet, being the faith-filled woman she is, she was also very aware that their hope might not be God's will. Because of this reality, she at times posted some of the most real and moving posts I have ever read, acknowledging both the emotional trials she was going through and yet the gratitude and faith that she never lost sight of. 

One such post was just months into the cancer diagnosis when she said, "This season is one of the toughest of all times. Sometimes it can feel lonely and heavy, but I know I have a wonderful tribe of women in my life that are always checking in and willing to help carry a few bricks. I've never been good at accepting help, but I'm so thankful for these women- they get me, and they show up even when I try to push them away." 

On Jan. 1, 2020, Stephanie wrote a beautiful post about her blessings. She refused to focus on anything but the good and gave a laundry list of blessings and gratitude. It touched me deeply and I am sure I was not alone. She was starting 2020 with gratitude, grace, and hope in the midst of what many, myself included, might have fallen apart over. 

In 2020, they added a fur baby to their family and continued fighting. Stephanie shared the occasional update on Jeff's health but more often than not, their posts were full of them living their lives, experiencing milestones, and enjoying the life they had as a family. 

Through the entire ordeal, Jeff and Stephanie lived their cancer truth out loud and their kids, even as young as they are, were aware of what was going on. I think one of the most poignant posts I ever saw, was in August 2020, from Stephanie who had shared a picture of their huge backyard, and their 7-year-old son mowing it with a push mower. Her post began, "The lines in our yard use to be straight. Jeff's a perfectionist at heart, and the straight lines he made in the yard reflected just that. 

Today, I cried over crooked lines. I cried because this 7 year old volunteered to mow the lawn for his dad. Our yard is no small task, but he mowed every single line and pushed up both sides of the house against those dreadful hills." 

I couldn't help but stare at the picture of that small figure in that big yard. That young man was learning some of lifes toughest lessons at such an early age. That is likely one moment in his life that he will never forget. 

In November of 2020, Stephanie shared fall family photos they had done. As I looked at those beautiful, amazing photos, I couldn't help the tears that snuck out and traveled down my face. There was something so beautiful about each of them. They were precious memories caught in a perfect moment. Something told me deep in my heart that these photos above all the other photos they had shared over time, would always hold a special place in all their hearts. 

Through the holidays, I had not seen many posts from Stephanie. I figured that like everyone else, it was a busy time. I truly hoped that no news might mean something positive. 

On February 19, 2021, a post from Stephanie caught my attention and made my heart sink. The news was not good. The tumor was continuing to grow and essentially they had run out of good choices. Jeff was on a new medication and they were just praying that it would stop the growth. Stephanies final words on the post were, "We knew this was going to be a bumpy road and at some point, we may find ourselves in unchartered waters. It's frightening, and I keep telling myself it's not supposed to be like this, but I know we're not done here, this battle's not over- we're not giving up Hope, and we'll continue to stand on His promise.... and that's my promise to them."

The faith she had. The faith she shared. The faith they had together. I was in awe. 

On April 5, 2021, I held back tears once again. Stephanie shared a picture of a smiling Jeff holding both his children when their youngest was born. You could just tell that next to being Stephanie's husband, being a dad was his favorite thing in life. His face was beaming. Stephanie's post stated, "I experienced one of the most heartbreaking moments as a parent yesterday. Individually, I had to tell my children that their daddy will be transitioning to heaven soon. Those heart-rendered faces are forever etched into my brain. They're fighters, and I pray that one day they find that special kind of perspective on life, that only comes from such heartache. Starting today, we're signing onto hospice. We've finished the course, we've kept the faith and as Jeff told Dr. Truong 'we won'.

She ended it by saying, "I'm heartbroken, but I'll continue to search out the blessings in these raindrops. It's going to be 'okay', even if it's not the okay we wanted...." 

Oh those last words! I cried like a baby.  

On April 27, 2021, Stephanie's post began, "Jeff took his final breaths last night. He crossed over to his heavenly body- no more cancer and no more pain. He WON." 

Even now as I read those words, the tears flow. Having lost my own husband, my own best friend, and the one I planned to grow old with twenty years prior, I knew the pain and sadness she was feeling and her words in the midst of all that pain, literally took my breath away. 

In the days and weeks that followed, there was an outpouring of love for Stephanie and the kids and so many beautiful memorials and memories of and for Jeff. His strength and his faith while fighting such an uncompromising and evil opponent touched so many lives and the lessons he taught about strength through adversity and never giving up, will stay with so many for the rest of their lives. In my mind though, the most important lesson he taught, was to his own children. He showed them that life isn't always easy or fair, and sometimes life doesn't go our way, but through it all, you can always find joy, peace and so many things to be grateful for, and in the end, he taught them to both live and die with grace and dignity in the acceptance of God's will. 

On June 14, 2021, nearly two months after Jeff died, Stephanie made this post. 

"I read something the other day that said ‘True Joy is found in the release’… read that again. It’s powerful and it’s real, and my heart needed to read it.

I returned to work a few weeks ago, and my heart needed that too. For me, a large part of my identity is in the release. It's giving back and helping others, but also on a more simple scale- it's holding the door for someone, providing a compliment to a stranger, taking a phone call in the middle of the night, or just providing a shoulder to someone in need. I'm not saying it's the same for everyone, but part of my Joy comes from sharing it with others.

Someone asked me the other day if I planned to share my journey with grief. I'm not sure my perspective will be helpful to anyone because I think we all carry it differently, but I'm willing to share and be vulnerable in the hope that maybe it will help someone.

So the truth is, I ended up on my kitchen floor Friday afternoon crying, because I simply came across a picture of Jeff from a year ago. It crumbled me. I let that wave hit me and hit me again, and you know what happened?.... I eventually got up.

Often times I find myself trying to validate my feelings, but I'm learning there is no right or wrong. When you're standing in the ocean you can't stop a wave. All you can do is ride it out and know that it won't last forever.

I realize that a part of me went with him and throughout this new journey comes finding that part of myself again. My goals and perspective have shifted slightly. The success and future of my family is now solely on my shoulders. I'll probably end up on my kitchen floor a few more times, but I promise you I will keep getting up and moving forward.

Maybe that's also part of the release though... going forward towards things that provide fulfillment, happiness, opportunity- but doing so unapologetically. God's going to lead our hearts down the path he's created for us... we're faithful, ready, and all in.

Whatever it is that's weighing you down, find a way to put it back into the world... and see what goodness might just come your way."

As I read this, it struck me so deeply. It was in that moment, that I just knew that this story had to be told for others outside our little town and outside Stephanie and Jeff's close-knit circle of loved ones and friends to read. I knew how deeply Jeff's story had affected me. It was a story of strength and determination with undoubting faith that in the end, he would win. He did. But moreover, this is also a love story. It is the story of a love so strong and a faith so deep that even when the ending wasn't what Stephanie had hoped for, she still found the grace to be grateful for the life she shared with Jeff and their kids.

Loss is never easy and when you lose the one you were supposed to grow old with, sometimes the pain is excruciating, but to see beyond the pain and to keep taking those next steps forward into unchartered territory takes a strength and faith that not everyone understands.

I am extremely grateful and honored that Stephanie allowed me to tell her story and to share her journey with you. It is my hope, that through Stephanie's words and the life she has lived and continues to live today, that she may give someone else the strength they need to keep the faith, to hold on to hope, and to fully understand, that even in our darkest hours......God always gives us light.

A Prayer, Perspective and a PSA

June! June! June! What can I say about June? A LOT actually!

I try hard to be a cup half full kinda gal, but there are those moments in time when no matter how full your cup is if it has a gaping hole in the bottom, it's gonna be empty pretty darn quick. Welcome to my big gaping hole of June.....or is it? 

June came in hot....literally, which made me cringe as I knew that the electric bill was going to eat my lunch this month and probably through September. Then, David's pool turned a lovely shade of putrid green which resulted in me spending much time at the pool store talking to the pool guy and spending $$$$$ I didn't have budgeted to spend. 

Yeah, money has been kind of critical this month as I had several bills come due as well as a couple of extra unexpected surprises. I then decided to stand up suddenly on a foot and leg that were asleep and I ended up damaging the top of my foot and ankle. Nothing broke, but for about two weeks, walking was absolutely no fun. It also happened that along with the money hemorrhage and the injury, each and every one of us in my house, ended up with some kind of unexpected drama this month and there isn't a one of us that likes drama, so yeah...there was all that. Then my central air conditioning decided to start going haywire, constantly kicking off in the hottest part of the day and causing my house to heat up into the '80s, only to have to go into overdrive to cool it all down at night. Now, do you think there is an HVAC person in the tri-state area that can fit us in before early fall? If you said no....then you would be right and even if they could do you think this girl could afford them right now? If you said no....then right again. However, regardless of the expense, air conditioning is something David can't live without, so again....  And then.....there was still the damn pool, again David's therapy, so really kind of an important need. 

So yesterday, I went to Mass and I prayed. I prayed the pitiful prayers of someone who is at the end of her rope and was ready to just let go. I whined about no money, all my bills, the drama in my house, and yes....even my green pool. I asked God for a lottery win and possibly a nice quiet island where I could relax, unwind and feel some peace (not really, but I am sure He could read between the lines). I am sure too, with all that is going on in the world, God said, "Really?" and then just sighed...or maybe even chuckled a bit. 

This brings me to the rest of yesterday. It was Father's Day and honestly, it wasn't a horrible day. My two older boys and I sat up outside, until late the night before, just talking and laughing, something we don't do nearly enough of. I then woke up, went to church, and the boys worked on the stupid pool for a while, Googling options and possible fixes. Because the water was a murky lake green, they decided to take my granddaughter to our local pool, and I stayed home to clean, do laundry, make supper, hang with David and babysit my grandson. It was a pretty typical day and by 5ish, I was only still feeling a little bit sorry for myself. 

When they got home from the pool, I started supper and the boys decided to work on the pool some more. I plan my menus and shop from my menus and I seldom buy extra as we live on a very tight budget. This little fun fact will come into play here in a bit. I was making Brinner (breakfast for dinner), complete with pancakes, eggs, biscuits, and sausage gravy. Just as it was almost done, my son came into the house to fill a bucket with water. I had no idea what he was using it for, as they are always running in and out to the kitchen sink. My other son and my granddaughter were out in the garage and I had my back to all of it as I was cooking at the stove. Then all of a sudden I heard my son who had filled the bucket and was heading out the back door drop the bucket and let out an audible sound. I turned around and the back door was open and the contents of the bucket were sliding across the floor, foaming, and smoldering, and then suddenly there was just explosion after explosion. I heard my granddaughter let out a blood-curdling scream and then the air was full of chlorine gas that started choking us. I couldn't see my other son or my granddaughter but I heard her crying. 

I yelled at my son who was still in the house to grab David who was in his room at the back of the house and to get him outside. I grabbed my three-year-old grandson and took him out the door. Then I saw my 15-year-old Corgi and my 14-year-old Boston Terrier starting to choke and gag and I grabbed them out of the house. At that moment I heard my other son in the backyard screaming CALL 911, while explosions could still be heard going off in the garage. 

The fear and anxiety in my sons voice terrified me as I had no idea if he or my granddaughter were hurt or not. I found myself in near panic. I dialed 911 and couldn't figure out why it would not ring through. I later found that I had actually "texted" 911 to my sons phone. Yeah, that is how out of it panicked I was. I finally tried again and got through. Bless the 911 operator who didn't hang up on my crazy self, as I was having trouble breathing which I am sure was a combo of sheer panic and a lung full of chlorine gas. I finally was able to explain the gas explosion (because in that bucket my son had, was pool chlorine powder and water) and they kept asking if anyone was hurt, and at that moment, I really didn't know. 

Just as the EMS, fire, and police came turning down my block, my granddaughter came running from the garage. She was crying hysterically, and I looked her over thoroughly. She looked to be fine but scared. Then I realized that I was hearing the water hose and I looked up to see tons of foamy water coming from the garage and down the driveway. My son was in the garage with all of those horrible fumes trying to get the chemical out of the garage. I then looked for my other dog who usually is connected to my granddaughter at all times, and of course, there he was, sitting right by her side. Everyone was all accounted for, but the question was, was everyone okay?

The next few minutes were a total blur. At some point, I ran back into my house to get David's wheelchair, and the fumes were just hanging in the stagnant air. There were guys in what I assume were hazmat suits, police officers, firemen, and EMS all over the place and they had blocked off the entrance to the street and then again about halfway down the street. Then I saw my sons girlfriend, and the mother of the kids, walking up as she had just gotten off work and no one had had time to let her know what was going on. The first thing she saw was the firemen with her daughter and she nearly had a panic attack of her own. 

Soon they had us across the street and they were taking our vitals and making sure we hadn't been affected by the chlorine fumes. I was so relieved to see my son in one piece after the garage clean up and both of my older sons had been stripped down and were wearing paper gowns as they had to be washed down as did their clothes. Everyone was checked out and we were all okay. On hearing this, I think this was the first time I actually took a full breath since I had seen that bucket contents go flying across my kitchen and into my garage. 

One of the first responders was talking to me as my ability to be fully coherent came back. He told me that we were so lucky that if it had to happen, that it happened like it did. The bucket opening was never facing my son, but it could just as easily have happened with the bucket on the ground and him standing over it. It could have ruined his lungs, splashed into his eyes and blinded him, or left chemical burns all over his face and body. The way it happened, not enough chemical got on anyone's body to leave an actual burn. He also told me that my other son also did the "dumbest/smartest" thing he could have done. He jumped in the middle of the gas explosion (dumb) and started spraying the contents out of the garage and into the driveway to start neutralizing the chlorine (smart). Had he not done this, that concentrated chlorine could have caused even more issues. 

After talking to the first responder, I sat alone for a few minutes and nearly broke down right there. Seeing both my sons and my granddaughter safe and unharmed was overwhelming, especially knowing that this outcome could have been much different and much deadlier. 

We have amazing neighbors, and one neighbor brought my poor naked son (although covered by a paper cover) some fresh clothes, another neighbor brought us out some water, and another neighbor took everyone to their house and fed them snacks and gave them a place to decompress. I had other neighbors come find me and hug me and tell me that it would be okay and that they were just glad we were okay. There was just so much happening and I was still having trouble getting it all straight in my mind. 

After going in and opening all my windows, and putting fans in the windows to air out the house, the firefighters had me go in and see if the house smelled too bad to stay in. Compared to the initial smell, I could barely smell it and since most of the smell was in the garage and only a little in the kitchen, I figured it would be okay, especially and miraculously, since we were getting ready to have a break in the hot steamy weather we had been having and the temperature was to drop into the high 60's with rain, which meant we could leave the windows open and give the chemicals more of a chance to dissipate. 

Once the all-clear was given, the first responders loaded up and left. By the way, let me give a huge shout-out to our local First Responders. They were there in record time and they were amazing with all of us and especially my traumatized granddaughter. After the responders left, most of my family sat at the neighbors, and I ventured into the garage to check out the damage. From the sounds of the explosions and the fact that much of the chemical went down Davids's wheelchair ramp, I fully expected to see it either full of holes or completely eaten away by the chlorine. I also expected to see much damage done in my garage as a whole. None of this was the case. There was still some chlorine residue left on the ramp and the table next to the door, and I had to throw out the bag of dog food in the dog food container, but other than that, nothing was damaged. Oh....and our chlorine "bomb" for lack of a better word, depleted us of pool chlorine as our last three bags were the chlorine gas culprit. Go figure. 

The entire Brinner, which I had been preparing with love, also had to be thrown out as well as our milk which I was using for gravy. Dang those pancakes and biscuits and gravy looked like they would have been good. Small loss though, in comparison to what could have been lost. 

After my walk-through, I just sat on the front porch and contemplated the last few hours. It would have been very easy to cry. In fact, I nearly did. The what could have beens, and worst case scenarios flooded my brain. There was also the thought of the money I had lost on food and dog food having no idea how I was going to make up for it all this month, also went through my head. Yeah, those tears were right there. Then I heard the wonderful sounds of my son's laughing next door. The emergency was over and they were relaxed enough to laugh. Then my granddaughter came running over to me with chocolate all over her face. This little girl, who had been beyond hysterical and traumatized just a couple of hours before said, "Grandma! This has been the best Father's Day ever!" I just looked at her not sure what was coming next. "Yeah, I got to go swimming at the city pool and then I got to sit in a firetruck and now I get to eat candy for dinner." And with that, she ran back to the neighbors. 

Suddenly I realized that God had answered my prayers, sad as they were, from earlier that morning. I realized looking at my family and knowing that they were all safe and healthy was all that mattered. Whatever had happened previously in this month, whether it was financially, physically, or emotionally didn't really matter. All that did matter was that we were all here and for all of us, the sun would rise again and we had another day to live. Gone was the drama, the stress over money and the trauma, and what was left was what I had really asked for all along......peace. I had peace because the events of the last hours had given me complete perspective. Thank you, God. You never ever fail me. 

As for the whole chemical explosion. Many on Facebook commented that they had also put chlorine powder in buckets before and mixed it with water, with no adverse reaction. Our situation scared more than a few. Luckily, a gentleman on one of my hometown FB pages did a little in-depth research and found what ultimately was likely the cause of our mishap. We originally thought that the chemical reaction occurred because I had been washing dishes while cooking supper and the water was on hot, and the hot water mixed with the chlorine had been the cause. Apparently, though, the water temperature had little to do with it. What actually probably caused it was that when you mix powdered chlorine and water, you are supposed to mix the chlorine into the water. If however, like what happened with us, you mix the water into the powder, that is what causes the chemical reaction. It sounded like we were shooting off guns in our garage. 

Now trust me, in hindsight, we all realize that mistakes were made with this situation and that we are very lucky that our outcome was what it was. Never will we EVER mix a chemical from the kitchen sink again, and before we do anything, there are going to be Google and YouTube searches first. Life just gets busy and sometimes we do things without enough knowledge or care and then critical accidents can happen. This was our reminder that we need to take more time and pay more attention and know exactly what we are dealing with. It also made us extremely aware, that anything from a critical accident to a fire, to a tornado, can happen, and we all need to be better prepared when reacting. Texting 911 in a fit of panic rather than actually dialing 911 was not especially helpful and could have caused the loss of crucial minutes if it had been a life or death situation. So at our house, we are going to figure out safety procedures that in the event of an emergency, we will all know how to act, but not panic, therefore making sure that everyone stays safe and calm. 

Okay, so there you have it. God once again answered my prayers, sent guardian angels to protect us, gave us some amazing miracles. and gave me some much-needed perspective on life in general. And bonus, we all learned a little (a lot) about pool chlorine and its dangers. So I guess you got a little bit of a PSA in the process. Your welcome! 

Until next time, stay safe, stay calm, and NEVER EVER add water to powdered chlorine in a bucket!

Imitation, Appreciation, Appropriation

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Anyone else grow up hearing that? It is true. I don't know of anyone who is going to imitate a style, view, or belief if they don't appreciate it or find it to hold merit and be worthy of imitation. 

Now I am likely getting ready to step into a subject that some of you may feel I am not "woke" enough to have a viewpoint on and yet....here I am. And honestly, I have been living in this world a lot longer than many of you reading this and I have watched the imitation of style and culture for several decades. Until recently, the sharing of cultures, styles, and beliefs has been viewed as a good thing and a way to bring the world and its different people and cultures together, but now.....we live in a very different world. The following is my view and my respectful thoughts on this subject. As always, you don't have to agree, but maybe it will give you a different perspective, even if in the end, we have to agree to disagree. 

Recently, I have been hearing so much about Cultural Appropriation, and I honestly think it may be a reaction to the current state of the world we live in. When we are hurt or feel disrespected, we take our toys, or in this case....culture, and go home. I think we are seeing some of this currently and I find it sad at best and a loss of the best part of educating on and understanding different cultures at worst.  

According to Wiki, the definition of cultural appropriation is the adoption of an element or elements of one culture or identity by members of another culture or identity. So let's think about this for a minute. Since this country came into existence, all cultures have done this. We have always shared, learned from, and imitated each other's ways. When multiple cultures start intermingling, it happens and it is considered a good thing for cultural growth and mutual understanding. 

In a country as big as ours, there are always going to be many and varied cultures and each culture brings new and different things to the table whether it is ways of working or crafting, different types of foods, furnishings, clothing styles, and hairstyles. It is how a multi-cultural community, city, state, and country learn and grow from each other. 

So this cultural appropriation dialogue has just been the latest frustration in the ongoing race issues this country is dealing with. It has become one of the newest ways people seem to find racism, only, in this case, maybe it doesn't actually exist. 

Now, I am not saying that racism is not real and that it isn't a problem in our country and our world. In fact, over the last decade, racism has hit epic proportions and it is directed at every race from every race, but I really don't think that cultural appropriation has anything to do with racism. In fact, if you try to bring racism into it, you simply can't make a good case, because far from being racist, imitation actually shows respect for other cultures and a sharing of beliefs, styles, and views. In my humble opinion, to ignore or pigeonhole other cultures is what is truly racist. If you pretend that their style, cuisine, and culture don't exist or aren't worth sharing and yes, even imitating, then you are saying that as a people, they simply don't matter. Apparently, though, not everyone sees it like I do.  

What seems to be most under fire currently though is style. While I have been hearing so much about cultural appropriation in general, one celebrity of sorts who currently has her feet to the flames is singer, Gwen Stefani. Now don't get me wrong, I am not really a fan of hers, but I do think that people are being a bit ridiculous right now. Ms. Stefani's big sin in cultural appropriation comes from various hairstyles and styles in general that she wore for a while when performing. The style she wore is called Harajuku and, it is a collaboration of gothic, punk, and Japanese styles. The style started in Japan and suddenly there were Harajuku girls everywhere. As many styles do, it found its way to the internet, then runways and before long, the Harajuku style was being imitated all over the world. Stefani, who was all about young up-and-coming style, found Harajuku particularly appealing, and before we knew it, she had a song, a business brand, and a personal style that were very Harajuku.  

Like most styles and fads, time moved on, Stefani's style changed with the times and I personally hadn't thought about or even heard of Harajuku in a while. Suddenly though, Stefani is under fire for.....yep, you guessed it, cultural appropriation. It apparently is a big enough deal to some, to make it to national news outlets and end up in my social media newsfeed over and over again. Why? Why? Why is this such a newsmaker and why are people so upset over it? It makes no sense to me. 

After doing some reading on the subject, the appropriation concern is that because Stefani made her name synonymous with Harajuku, that she actually took it away from the culture that created it. Hmmm....first of all, the style itself is a mix of many styles, though it was a Japanese creation. This means that the Japanese appropriated the punk and gothic American styles to create something that they don't want an American to appropriate from them. Do you see the lack of real argument here? Add to that, Stefani's song Harajuku Girl, basically pays homage to the style itself and my question is.....where is the problem? Do they think that we might miss the fact that the style was literally, made in Japan? 

So let's take a deeper dive here. This country started with Indigenous people, but soon became a melting pot of races, colors, cultures, ethnicities, and religions. Each new group from white to black to Asian to Latino and every other group in between has brought with them specific ways of life, foods, faiths, beliefs, and styles. Once here, they began doing what people co-existing together do. They started mingling, sharing, and teaching their different cultures. They learned new cuisines, styles, and ways of life and some even intermarried, creating new cultures within old ones. By doing this though, it doesn't mean that anything is taken away from the original. It only means that it is shared and appreciated, not appropriated by new cultures. Quite honestly, it is part of what makes our world so great. 

If we are going to talk race here, then let's take it to the simplest terms. If you aren't willing to share your country, jobs, businesses, neighborhoods, schools, kindness, style, and culture with others regardless of race, color or ethnicity....then maybe you need to question your own culpability on the issue of racism. If on the other hand, you willingly share all those things and appreciate the fact that your culture is respected enough to be imitated, and through that imitation, there might be some much needed cultural education, then I think that you just might be doing it right, and there may still be hope for this world yet. 

So there you have it. I may not be "woke" but I am awake, and I think that through the sharing of our cultures, we can only improve the world and make it a better place. 

Until next time, may you find kindness, may you give kindness, and may you appreciate all the people, cultures, races, and styles that this world has to offer. 

Memorial Day....Do You Celebrate or Honor?

I don't know how it is in your part of the world, but here in mine, it is rainy and cool. It is rather dark and dreary and maybe that is fitting for such a day as today. 

Today is Memorial Day and for some, it is the kick-off to the summer with boats on the lakes and toes in the sand. Others may view it as the day when friends and family come around for BBQs and good food to celebrate the last day of a three-day weekend. But then, there are others who actually understand what this day is about and view it for what it is. It is a day of remembrance and even mourning for those who gave all so we can have what we have today. FREEDOM!

Memorial Day is the day set aside to honor those who have served their country and died doing so. They did it willingly and bravely because they understood that freedom wasn't free, but that our country and our freedoms were worth fighting for. Sadly, so many have forgotten the significance of this day and the people we are honoring. It truly makes my heart hurt for all those missing someone who gave their life for all of us and yet so many take it for granted. 

 I saw a post on Facebook this morning from a friend of mine who is military. He stated that none of our major news affiliates were talking about Memorial Day or honoring our soldiers. As I read the post, I secretly hoped that they actually were, but he had just missed it, but a part of me knows that likely as not, Memorial Day is being downplayed because honoring our fallen soldiers sends a message that these were great people fighting for a great country and too many today don't want to see this country for what it is, rather they want to see it for what they are trying to make it. This is not right nor is it good, especially on today of all days. 

These last few years, we have lost pride in our country, because we have lost pride in our people. We have been told that only certain groups can feel pride and others must feel shame, and yet those who are supposed to feel pride, act in very self-deprecating ways. They treat themselves badly and unkindly, while the rest of the world seems to feel that even though they have done nothing, they should feel shame and their country should feel shame. We are quickly imploding on ourselves and forgetting who we are and what we stand for. 

This country is the greatest country in the world. We have freedoms and opportunities regardless of race, creed, or color that few other countries have. Unfortunately, many have forgotten and some have never learned, that freedom means having goals and dreams, working hard to achieve them, and finding success from your own tenacity and drive. Freedom is not expecting things to be given to you, refusing to work hard, and being angry when you don't have what others have because you refused to do what it takes to make it happen. We are quickly turning into a country and a people who are weak and indebted to their government. 

People seem to forget that in this country, we can be anything we want if we are willing to work for it. The proof of this is that people of every color, ethnicity and income level have been able to succeed even when the roads were rocky, but they worked hard and they changed things and paved roads for each other so that others could do the same. In few other countries is this possible. We are blessed and we don't even recognize it.  

Somewhere along the line, we decided that we would rather be taken care of than work for ourselves and make the world a better place. We traded "security" for the right to speak as we choose, pray as we choose, and live as we choose. We have taken all the amazing things about this country and have tried to turn them into points of shame and divisiveness and because of this, we now view our country, the flag, our police, and our soldiers as people and things to degrade, instead of people and things we should be grateful for and honor. 

Now saying that we are the greatest country doesn't mean that we don't have issues and that change isn't necessary in certain areas. Nothing is ever perfect and there is always room for improvement, but by the standards of many countries, we are the gold standard. If we weren't would refugees want to be here so badly? Would those from other countries who have lived through communism and oppression be telling us, that we don't know or understand what direction we are taking our country into? Of course not. 

Those that have fought and died for this country in the last 245 years, saw the big picture. They understood that unless we fight for our country, we will lose it and everything that makes it great. They understood that without freedom, we are all slaves to the evils of the world that won't care one bit what color we are, what religion we choose, or what our dreams and goals are. It is for this that these men and women have fought and died, and most importantly so that our children have a future of possibilities and hope. 

So today, if it is dreary where you are, or even if it isn't, maybe take some time and think about what this day is really about. Do some research and maybe read a book. Think about the families who are not celebrating, but grieving because they have lost a child, a parent, a friend, or the love of their life fighting and protecting, not so that you can eat BBQ and jet ski, but so that you have the right and opportunity to eat BBQ, jet ski, speak your mind, follow your dreams and live your life in peace....because that my friend is what Memorial Day is all about. 

Today we honor the men and women of all branches of the military who have fought and died for our freedom in all our wars for the last 245 years. May they Rest In Peace and may we as a country be thoughtful, respectful, and most of all grateful for their ultimate sacrifice. 

Until next time.....may you always remember those who have fought for us, may you never forget those who have died for us, and may you always be grateful for this country, our freedoms and, the men and women who still fight for us today. 

Father Altman and Cancel Culture.....It's Good We Know Who Wins in the End

It seems that for quite some time, I have been led to write today's blog. The words come together when I sleep, when I pray and when I carry through my daily life. The fact is, for several weeks now, this blog has never been far from my thoughts, and I knew when the time was right, I would sit down here and write it. I actually wanted to write this on Sunday, but it still didn't feel like it was the right time. Yesterday however, I realized that now...is the time! 

Normally I don't write a lot of blogs like this, but today, I felt I needed to write it. Remember, sometimes I just put these blogs in God's hands and let the chips fall where they may. That is what is happening here. I couldn't not write this blog if I wanted to. Now just to be clear, you don't have to agree or disagree with me on any of this and of course, you can stop reading at any time, but maybe you won't. 

This blog is mostly aimed at the Catholics among you who read my blog, but it is also a cautionary tale for those of all religions, who have clergy that are not afraid to do their jobs, put God first, and speak the truth....even if that truth isn't popular. It is also about some things that have bothered me for quite some time. 

First of all, let's talk about churches. My church, your church, their church. Even before Christianity, there were synagogues where people gathered to learn about and worship God, and in times of trouble and worry, they were a refuge for the faithful to gather together. After all, regardless of our religious preference, if we go to church believing we are in God's house, then what safer place can there be? Churches have always been sanctuaries for those in need, those afraid, and even those in danger. Churches often hold the heart of the community as well as the souls of the faithful and it seems that when all else may fail, our faith leads us to God and His church. 

So let's take this back, to 1962, when the Second Vatican Council met. In my opinion, the SVC did not move the Catholic church forward with its modernization, but instead, put us on a path that has led us to where we are today. In case you are wondering, we aren't in a great place right now. In fact, in my humble opinion, there are just way too many Catholics in name only, and sadly this is not just everyday Catholics who fill the pews every Sunday. This also includes priests, bishops, cardinals, as well as governors, senators, presidents, and truthfully at times, I wonder if it doesn't even go higher than that. These CINO are hiding behind the Catholic church yet twisting and turning canon law and church teachings to fit their own personal agendas regardless of the outcome. It has been bad for a while, but now, we have come into a critical state. 

My mother, a Catholic woman to her core, always used to tell me that satan hated the Catholic church and he would love nothing more than to destroy it. How would he destroy it? Why, from within of course, and sadly, we have been seeing this happen over the last few decades. 

Now I could literally write for days on the atrocities that have occurred in the Catholic church and how I feel about them, but instead, today, I am writing about a few things of late that have nagged at me and as of yesterday, pushed me forward into writing this. 

So where was I? Oh yeah, Vatican II. It was in VII that it was felt that Catholics no longer needed to kneel to receive Communion nor receive it on the tongue. Now for those that may not be Catholic or who are Catholic but never opened a Baltimore Catechism, Communion in the Catholic church is NOT symbolic. It is not a cracker or a piece of bread and a dixie cup of grape juice. Jesus Christ Himself started the Catholic church (the first Christian church) and He made the Apostle Peter the first Pope of the Catholic Church. Thus it only makes sense that the Last Supper was the actual first Communion, handed out by Jesus Himself, to the Apostles. So when we as Catholics go to Mass and receive Communion, the bread is unleavened bread, the wine is real and both are consecrated by the priest during Mass. What this means to those scratching their heads right now is, that Catholics believe that when we receive Communion, we are actually receiving the body and blood of Christ. Don't believe me? Look it up and look up the miracles associated with consecrated Communion wafers. 

So think about this, if we are actually receiving the body and blood of Christ, don't you think a little reverence such as kneeling and receiving it on the tongue are in order? Yes, I am sharing another momism, because she taught me in great part my faith, by living it and being an example. She always told me never to receive communion in the hand, as my hands were not supposed to touch it, only a priest was to touch it. Personally, my hands are not pure enough, holy enough, or special enough to hold the body and blood of  Christ, and I am always in awe of those who think that their hands are. So, if I believe what the church has taught me, and I do, then if I took Communion in the hand, that would be exactly what I was holding, the body and blood of Christ, and I am simply not doing it. In fact, in my whole entire life, I have never received Communion in the hand and I am not even a big fan of Eucharistic Ministers giving me Communion, but often in church, we have no choice. My preference is always the priest and again.....NEVER MY HANDS!

As for the kneeling, it really just depends on the church, because most modern churches no longer have communion rails to kneel on. As a kid though, I do remember kneeling before receiving Communion, and in my opinion, it makes the privilege so much more solemn and respectful. In fact, I made my own First Communion kneeling, and that honor has never left me. 

So this all brings me to this last year. I was literally amazed beyond words when Catholic churches and really any Christian churches locked down and no longer held Mass or services. I remember one Sunday sitting at home, watching Mass online, and thinking to myself that God must feel so abandoned that His people had so little faith in Him and His house, as to shut down and lock down. It really did not sit right with me, and even though bishops and cardinals gave all Catholics a dispensation for not going to Mass, it still felt wrong, and we all know that no bishop or cardinal has ever made an error in judgment. 

I couldn't help but think that if we had true faith, that church would likely be the last place the virus would get us, and if masks were so crucial to saving us all, then all we had to do was wear one and be on our way to church. Apparently though, the government and those governing the church didn't agree. Was this because there wasn't a thimble full of faith between them all, or was there another reason that people were locked out of their churches? It has been a big question on my mind. 

Then, when churches opened up again, the Catholic church in my opinion made another grave error and refused to allow Communion on the tongue. This I found to be reprehensible, and rather than be refused Communion on the tongue, I simply didn't go to Communion. For my heart and soul, this was the right thing for me whether others agree or not. 

Of course, the thinking behind this for the church was to "protect" the priest and the Eucharistic ministers but it really made no sense to me. First of all, there should be no Eucharistic Ministers, especially during this time. Second, the priest and his mask and a gallon of hand sanitizer should pretty much make him safe and if you add in a little faith, then there should not have been an issue at all. I couldn't help but think, what if Father Damien had refused those in Molokai, Mass or Communion on the tongue? Thank God his faith was greater than that of many of our more modern priests. 

Apparently, today's priest and clergy of all denominations seem to have forgotten that in times of great stress, fear and unrest are the times that people search out God. It is at times like this when many souls are brought to God. These people aren't looking for an hour on TV with a live band, they are looking for face-to-face contact with someone who has the best interest of their soul at heart and who has no fear, but only the desire to bring them to Our Lord. This however can't happen if God's doors are closed and His clergy don't appear to have enough faith to throw the doors open and know that God's will, will be done. 

I have pretty much kept my feelings about all of this to myself all of this time. I have prayed a great deal about it, and just watched and listened. I have seen so many people that I never imagine would fall in line do so, as their fear seemed to override their faith. At times I even wondered if I was the only one feeling this way.....until yesterday. 

Yesterday, I saw a video of a priest, Father James Altman, out of La Crosse, WI, being asked to resign by his bishop. He was accused of inciting and being divisive. Why? Because he ignored COVID limits and did his job. The job he was ordained to do. The job he was called to do not by his bishop or the governor of WI, but by God. He listened to his faith and not the government. He did what he felt was right as a priest and we have no idea how many souls he might have brought to God in doing so, and apparently, that does not matter. His bishop is far more concerned about man's mandates (not laws) than he is about God's laws. Seems like someone may be in the wrong business and I'm thinking it is not Father Altman. 

Then last Sunday, May 23, 2021, Father Altman gave an amazing sermon which was recorded, and sadly, if the bishop and the church have their way, it might have been his last one as a priest. He spoke about Pentecost Sunday and tied it in beautifully to the fight he was fighting and what is currently going on in his church and churches throughout our country. Here is the sermon he gave. I encourage you all to listen to it. If it doesn't make you feel sad, a bit ashamed, and tremendously angry that this is happening to a priest, a man of God, who chose God above all else and is being punished for it, then in my book, you may need to re-evaluate your faith a bit. And yes, he called out a lot of things that I myself have felt. It was really great to hear a priest speak to right and wrong according to the teachings of the Catholic church. We certainly need more of it and more priests and clergy like him. 

So for those of you reading who have held on this long and aren't even Catholic, first of all.....thank you. Second of all, this isn't just priests that this can and is happening to. This can happen to good clergy of all Christian faiths. Those who disagree with Father Altman or who aren't brave enough to stand up for what is right themselves, are trying to do what they do best and cancel Father Altman. Sadly, I know that there are ministers, pastors, and clergy all over who are also dealing with being called on the carpet as they also have broken no laws but did in fact side step mandates that were both unConstitutional and also trying to supersede God's laws. I don't see this as just a slap upside the head of this particular priest, but a pummeling of all faithful religious people who put God first and everything else second.

I have no doubt that those in power are not going to let this issue with Father Altman go easily as they would love to make an example of him and show us the consequences of his perceived deviciveness, as an open threat to any other clergy thinking of stepping "out of line." I also have no doubt that Father Altman will likely not go quietly and whatever suffering he goes through because of this, is paving his path to heaven. 

Standing up for what you believe in is getting harder these days. Calling out the wrong in the world, and living your life for good in spite of the evil that resides around every corner is not easy and I have every belief that evil will not let up any time soon. As for me, I will continue to take Communion only on the tongue, I will support good priests and their message, even if it's not a popular one and I will call out those who are evil and cut them no slack, even if they call themselves Catholic. Those who propagate evil and even evil itself can damage my church but they have no power to destroy it. Bottom line, if you have ever opened a Bible, regardless of whether it was a Catholic or Protestant Bible, they all end the same way.....God wins and evil loses. 

So until next time, may you stay strong, may you stay faithful, and may you remember just who wins in the end.  

That's Right....I'm Getting Soapboxy Today

So I am pulling out the soapbox today. You might want to get a cup of coffee and get comfy or just scroll on by, depending on how you feel about me when I am soapboxy. 

<soapbox on>

Let me start by being direct and to the point. If you are someone who has a bad attitude, can't hold your tongue, and feels that it is your right to literally abuse others with your opinion, then may I suggest, you stay home and stay off social media?! There! I said it!

I am not sure when we as a society decided that it was perfectly okay to be rude to a sales clerk because she isn't checking people out as fast as you would like, or that throwing a tantrum because your fast-food place is out of chicken nuggets was your best move, but I am here to tell you.....Knock that shit off! Also, don't go after me about your right to free speech because ten to one, as you are telling the server that she is a waste of space for not having your menu item (like she controls that stuff), if she fires back at you with her own "free speech," you are going to cry foul, because she had the audacity to tell you that you were wrong and put you in your place. See the hypocrisy here? You can't stand behind free speech for yourself if you can't handle the same from others. 

I have been seeing so much of this lately and quite frankly, I am really sick of it as I am sure others are too. So how do we stop it? We quit making excuses for and accepting the unacceptable. There is no excuse for people to treat each other with disrespect and there is a huge difference between standing up for yourself, and simply being an ass because life isn't going your way. 

If you are on social media, and you watch videos posted by others, you will literally see dozens of videos, where "Karen's" and "Kens" attack other people for the dumbest things. Yesterday, I watched one where a lawyer from a prestigious law firm, was in some kind of a mini-mart and she saw a woman that with her olive skin, dark eyes, and hair could have been any race or culture, but this Karen decided that she was of Mexican descent and therefore shouldn't be served in this mini-mart. Why? Who the heck knows. Probably because she was just an unhappy, truly racist human being. 

This Karen went so far as to act as a manager and tell the cashier not to check this woman out because.....yes, she was Mexican and shouldn't be in this country. The woman corrected her and told her that she was in fact Indigenous and that if anyone shouldn't be here, it was Karen. This erupted into a fight where Karen shoved the woman and the woman flat out smacked her across the face. Karen was too smart to continue the fight but smugly walked off, obviously planning her lawsuit. Sorry, Karen, your ridiculousness was caught on tape. 

I also saw, a Karen threatening to call a homeowners association about two women out walking their pig. When the pig relieved himself and the women picked it up, Karen was beyond irate that he had done it in the first place. She was even angrier when the women told her that they had already discussed the pig with the HOA as he was a support pig and they took good care of him and he caused no problem. Karens' rage was intensified to the point that she then threatened to call the police. The women knowing that they were filming the whole scene and that they nor their pig had done anything wrong, told her to go ahead and call the police. This fueled Karen to the point of getting in their faces and taking pictures. WTH? What is wrong with people? 

And finally, a group of kids (about 9) decided to do something nice in their neighborhood and help their fellow neighbors who might not be able to take care of their yards or get out and mow. Kids know little about property lines so in one yard, they got a swath of another neighbors yard and that neighbor called the police on these kids. They were out doing something kind for their community, mowing, edging, and sweeping the walks and some Karens decided to call the police on them. What message does that send to the kids, the police, and other neighbors? We all know what message that sends and this is part of why we have the problems in this world that we have. Luckily, the police saw the bigger picture, and nothing was done to the kids. 

There is just video after video of this kind of crazy behavior where people show the absolute worst versions of themselves as if their actions were both acceptable and right. While yes, the First Amendment gives us all the right to free speech, I am also sure that our founding fathers expected that we use some common sense with this right, and just because we could say something didn't always mean we should. Apparently, though, the founding father's crystal ball wasn't working at the time and they didn't realize that 245 years later, we would have lost our minds, become entitled creatures showing little humanity, and decide that a right designed for all, should only cover the few...Kens and Karens, being the few. 

When I speak of entitlement, I am not talking about a specific color, race, sex, or culture, though some cultures seem to show more restraint and sense than others. Kudos to you. In every demographic though, there seem to be those who think the rules of humanity as well as the laws of the country and their own little piece of it, don't apply to them. They seem to think that they have the right to browbeat a 16-year-old on their first day of work because the milkshake machine went down, or scream at the Walmart greeter who is told to make sure everyone who enters has a mask. That is their job. Realize that it is your privilege to be in their store, so if you don't like their rules, you don't have to shop there, but you don't have the right to insult the greeter or have a meltdown because you don't like their rules. The world does not have to change to meet your standards. Instead, you find a place that does meet your standards and move on. 

The same applies to social media. How many times have you seen someone go off on someone else because they had differing opinions? The instigator has the right to say what they want and they think, but when someone tries to defend themselves or their views, they are insulted, name-called and shut down as if they don't have the same rights as the instigator. For those that might not recognize this, it's called being a bully, and they come in all colors, shapes, sizes, ethnicities, religions, and income levels. 

Where it is really getting bad is in groups on Facebook. People truly have lost all sense of right and wrong and have zero respect for rules. They seem to have just decided they can say and do what they want and no one should have a problem with it. If a group has rules, these provocateurs will sidestep them or in some cases trounce right over the top of them and act a fool and then blame admins and the group in general if they get called out, timed out, or thrown out, because of their own behaviors. It really is getting ridiculous and because of it, many groups are losing good members and good admins and some groups are just choosing to shut down altogether. Can you blame them? Dealing with adolescent acting, self-entitled adults gets exhausting and since being an admin is a volunteer gig, it is hardly worth the time and trouble to deal with a bunch of trolling bullies. 

We as a society need to realize that we are setting a bad standard not only for the present day but also for the generations that are coming up. This behavior of acting up and acting out and making excuses for the behavior has gone way too far. Those of us still fostering some normal brain cells have got to take a stand and send some of these tantruming Kens and Karens to the woodshed. 

Let's quit enabling and excusing this behavior with language like, "Well 2020 was such a rough year and people are just so stressed and......." YES, 2020 was a rough year, and not just for Karens and Kens. It was a rough year for all of us, and yet I don't have the expectation that I can walk into Walmart and tell them that just because I hate wearing a mask, that I don't have to wear one if that is their rule. If wearing a mask is so off-putting to me, I will go somewhere where they don't care if I wear a mask or not. I won't however, make Ms. Greeter feel like crap and rethink her whole job situation and other life choices, by throwing a tantrum and putting her in the middle of it all. That is not my right, my privilege, nor my entitlement to behave as if store rules do not apply to me. 

I also will not accept mental health issues as an excuse for bad behavior anymore. Of course, there are some very extreme cases where mental health factors into a situation, but that excuse gets used way too often anymore and it needs to be stopped. Using that excuse to meltdown because McDonald's is out of McNuggets should be embarrassing for you and it takes away from and lessens the reality for those who truly do have grave mental health issues. So enough! Don't hide behind mental health and use that as an excuse for bad behavior. About 75% of the population has some form of mental health issues and after this last year, that number is probably higher, but not everyone uses their mental health as an excuse to act a fool and verbally abuse innocent people. Shame on those who do!

Finally, as I said in the beginning if you are so easily triggered, have so little self-control, and are so self-entitled that you feel you are the only one who should have a voice, have rights, and have an opinion and that your behavior good or bad should just be accepted, then you are the problem. Instead of inflicting yourself on the world as you are, get some help. Try some anger management, if you really think you have mental health issues, get yourself to a therapist and most of all, get over yourself. The last year didn't just happen to you. We all suffered and we are all trying to heal and you Karen, are not helping yourself or anyone else by being a b! tch. Start using some common sense. You know, the stuff our founding fathers just assumed we would still have all these years later. 

If social media triggers you to the point of abusing others verbally or otherwise, get off of it and stay off of it. If the news media frightens you or keeps you stressed out, turn it off. If you can't handle being disagreed with or the company of other human beings, then get yourself an emotional support animal. Do what you need to do to keep yourself healthy, but don't feel that if you are unhappy or unhealthy that somehow it is okay, to make others just as unhappy and unhealthy as you are. 

For everyone else, quit cutting these instigators, bullies, trolls, Kens, Karens, and self-entitled narcissists slack. Start standing up to them and calling them out. Quit accepting unacceptable behavior and shut them down and shut them out. We as a society should be better than this. After all these 245 years of freedoms and rights, we should have learned more than we have. We should have learned to be grateful, to be kind, and to show humanity to our fellow human beings. It is not hate, entitlement, anger, or fear that are going to move us forward and make us whole. It is love, kindness, and forgiveness and until we master these, we will continue with this. 

<soapbox off>

Until next time, be kind, be calm, and most of all, show some self respect.....no one likes a bully. 

  

So, I Think David Has Angels......

So tell me....what do you believe in? 

You are probably scratching your head and wondering just what I am talking about, because of course, this question could have a multitude of answers, depending on what I am referencing. So, what am I referencing? Do you believe in ghosts? The supernatural? Hauntings and all that hauntings may imply? 

Now I know that there are those who are Christian and those of other beliefs too that feel like any or all the above are verging on a walk on the dark side, which is a place none of us wants to be. Sometimes though, things come into our lives that make us literally have to question, and wonder what else is out there in the world. Is all that is unknown dark and evil, or is there simply more out there than we can possibly imagine? Is it possible to reconcile a faith-based life with the unexplained? 

Now for those of you just tuning in, or those that don't know me, I was born and raised Roman Catholic (yes, Catholics are Christians). I have a very definite belief in good and evil and I was brought up believing in heaven and hell. To this day, I am still a practicing Catholic and I still hold tight to my beliefs. 

If you are not familiar with Catholicism, let me bring you up to speed. Catholics brought you exorcisms (the banishing of demons or demonic possession from those who have been possessed) and we have a pretty definite line drawn in the sand about good vs. evil, so it should not come as a shock that I was brought up with the following beliefs. To give you the Cliffs Notes: you...say your prayers, go to Mass, pray your rosary every day, say your blessing at meals and thank God for your food,  read your bible, and most of all......don't play with ouija boards. While that last one should pertain to just about anyone, my mom was a particular stickler on ouija boards. 

This should all make sense in the fact that all you have to do is look around to know that there is true evil in the world and if you open yourself up to it, you may live or die to regret it. This is including but not limited to ghosts, demons, ouija boards (my mom REALLY hated them), seances, and fortune-tellers. Being the good Catholic girl that I am, I, for the most part, stick to these beliefs. I have no desire to know the future and while there are a few faces that have passed that I wouldn't mind seeing, I don't think I would actually do well having a real-world conversation with them. 

Where ghosts and demons are concerned, I am not much into horror, so I seldom watch or read about them, with the exception of reading about the Warrens. They do in fact fascinate me. As for ouija boards.....never in a thousand years. So with all these beliefs firmly in place, what happens when unexplained things happen that you can't deny and you can't really find a reason for? 

When I was very young, long before I was allowed to watch anything scary or even really knew about the world of scary and creepy, we lived in a house in Wichita, KS. It was an L-shaped ranch surrounded by a row of cedar trees. I hated this house as much as any four-year-old to seven-year-old could hate something. The house always made me feel creepy and certain rooms, including my own, really made me feel unsafe. At night I would go to bed and pull the covers completely over my head, no matter how hot it was. It always felt to me like someone was right beside me, breathing and watching me, and I was terrified each and every night. When I would tell my mom, she would tell me that I was being silly. Then I had a run-in with a Shadow Man that I had no idea was a Shadow Man. Not until I was an adult did I know what I saw that evening, but it left a lasting impression, and once again, my mother told me that I was being ridiculous. 

Once we left that house, I never feared the unknown or unseen again. I never felt a presence or felt unsafe around anything that wasn't definitely human. That however doesn't mean that I haven't experienced things. 

The house I currently live in is also the house I grew up in for the major part of my life. While nothing scary ever happened, we did have the occasional interior door fly open or jars mysteriously moving forward and falling off shelves (no earthquake involved), but it was not particularly frightening and I don't remember it ever even giving any of us the slightest sense of fear. 

When I was in my late teens, I did go through about a year of night terrors. It was a night after night occurrence where I would have dream paralysis over the absolute most horrid nightmares. Finally, I would come out of the paralysis and find myself screaming to the top of my lungs. My screams were loud enough to wake the dead and very definitely everyone in my house, and always my mom would nearly break her neck coming up the stairs to make sure I was okay. Once awake, I was fine, but it was a really long year for all of us. 

Nothing ever seemed to happen after that. At times I would have vivid dreams of people I had lost and dream I was having conversations with them, but even in the dreams, I knew they were leaving again, and so they were rather sad and surreal, but not scary. 

When I moved back into the house after my mom and husband died, I did notice some things with my youngest who at the time was a baby.  David always seemed to see someone or something that I couldn't. Often he would laugh and smile and coo while reaching beyond me. His focus was either above me or beside me and whatever he was looking at, always seemed to delight him. 

One night after an instance of him reaching and cooing for some unseen "thing" I had a dream that my mom was there. She was sitting on the bed talking to me and I told her about David and how he was acting. She just laughed and told me that David was seeing angels and that the angels had come to watch over him and play with him. I don't remember any more about the dream, but from that moment on, I too believed that it was probably angels he was playing with, or maybe even his daddy. Whatever or whoever it was though, it did not worry me or make me afraid. In fact, it gave me a certain sense of peace. 

So jump ahead to recently. David had a spine surgery a couple of years ago and prior to that surgery, his room was upstairs across from mine, but following the surgery, I moved him downstairs. His room is now the room that was my mom's. I have always had an audio monitor so that I could hear him at night, but it eventually died, so about three months ago, I purchased a camera monitor that has both audio and video for his room. It is connected to my phone and I can keep an eye on him all night. 

One of the first nights I had it hooked up, I noticed that there were orbs in the air. They weren't constant, but sporadic. I kind of cringed thinking that it was dust in the air or on the camera lens. I figured it was time for a really thorough house cleaning, so I cleaned like it was my job and I cleaned everything including the camera. That same night, I noticed orbs flying for about ten minutes or so, and then nothing. During that ten minutes though, David was staring off where one orb, in particular, seemed to have been. He kept smiling and reaching out, very reminiscent of when he was a baby. I could also hear him quietly making an "oooooh" noise. I thought I had left his tv on, but when I went downstairs, it was off. Hmmm.

The next day, I spent literally two hours trying to recreate the orbs with dust. I trickled dust across the lens, flipped dust into the air and literally turned on the fan, and blew dust. The dust didn't really create orbs. What came from the dust was more like little floating spots. I was both stumped and sneezing by the time I was finished. The experiment seemed to prove futile, so I did not really think much more about it after that. 

From time to time, I would still see the orbs here and there, and a couple of more times, I saw David act like he was interacting with something or someone, but it didn't worry me. In fact, as crazy as I can get about things, it didn't give me any negative vibes at all. 

Then about a week ago, I was laying in bed, and David was downstairs asleep. I happened to look at my phone and on the picture, David's room was literally alive with orbs. Without exaggeration, there were so many that on film, they seemed to be lighting up his room. What was really strange though was, the mini blind hanging on the window above his head. The window faces a dark alley and the window was shut. Suddenly, I started to see the blind roll as if into humps, something a mini blind cannot do. It can go back and forth if the wind catches it or up and down if pulled, but it cannot move in a rolling motion, but his was and then as I watched, about twenty orbs popped out of the blind and moved in all different directions and then the blind was still. It was at that moment that I decided I should hit record on the video. I recorded two full minutes of orbs going up the wall and down the wall and up towards the ceiling. Most were leaving a misty trail behind as they flew by. As this happened, David slept peacefully, with no movement or stress.

To see two-minute video of orbs flying, click here. 

This video did not stress me or worry me as I didn't feel anything negative about it. I knew what I thought it was, but still, it intrigued me, and I was curious as to what others might think was going on, so I posted it to my hometown Facebook page and to my own personal Facebook page. As you can imagine, the comments started rolling in. Some felt it was dust or dust mites, others said bugs on the camera lens, and others also saw orbs. Many were fascinated by the mist that seemed to be left behind by the orbs and someone else commented that most of the orbs seemed to be of mostly the same size and shape, which they felt would rule out dust or bugs as few dust particles or bugs are the same size and shape. Regardless of the opinions on what they were, most seemed fascinated by them, and some even watched the video frame by frame to see if anything else might have been captured. 

About an hour later, I looked at my phone again. The orb activity had appeared to stop, which I found peculiar if it were dust or dust mites, so I decided to take another video. This time I recorded it for only one minute as nothing appeared to be going on and I was pretty sure nobody wanted to watch David sleep for another minute. I also posted this second video and no one seemed to have an explanation how all my dust, dust mites, and bugs had suddenly just stopped moving when the conditions in the room had remained the same. 

Watching the second video back though, I did see something a bit unusual. About 20 seconds in, in the corner, just above David's bed, I saw a burst of sparkly light that seemed to explode and dissipate almost like a firework. I have a feeling I know who that sparkly little firecracker was. 

One-minute video with no orbs.

After watching the video's I believe that what I was seeing were angels. Perhaps David's guardian angel felt lonely or maybe they were there because, in that period of time, David needed them. Maybe though, like many times before, they were just there to play. At any rate, though, they seem to give David no stress and I felt nothing negative while watching them. 

So what does all of this mean and how does this align with my beliefs? In my way of thinking, it means that there is far more to this world than we know and that since David and I have not brought on or invited any evil into our world, like as not, there is nothing evil in any of this. Now the Shadow Man? I think that had far more to do with that house we lived in than it did with me. I think that just being as young and impressionable as I was, I was just sensitive to whatever ugly was in that house. These orbs though are something different and I believe they/it align with my beliefs just fine. 

If you are religious or spiritual at all, then you know there are angels around us all the time, and many of those poor angels have saved our behinds on more than one occasion. So who is to say that from time to time they don't just show themselves (as orbs or whatever they choose) and remind us that they do in fact exist and that they are in fact with us....all the time? 

So yeah, I think David has angels, and you know what? I am just fine with that.

Until next time.....follow your heart, follow your beliefs, and....... never doubt the existence of angels.  

It's Been A Year

On May 9, 2021, it was not just Mother's Day. For one of my closest friends and her family, it was also one of the hardest days of their lives. It was the one-year anniversary of the loss of their beautiful daughter Kylie. Those of you who follow my blogs may remember my blog about her last year. 

It was easy to write about her because she was larger than life and left a huge hole in the hearts of those who knew and loved her and even in the hearts of some who didn't have the honor of knowing her. When writing that blog piece at the time though, I had no idea all that would transpire in the year to come and all that I would learn. 

Kylie's mom and I have been friends for well over 40 years. In fact, I can't really remember a time when Thiry (her mom) and Kylie's Aunt Berty, weren't a part of my life. They have both been there through just about every high and low of my teen and adult life. It is a bond that is as close as sisterhood and because of this, watching what Thiry has had to go through this year has at best made me feel useless and helpless to help her and Kelly, and at worst, devastated me knowing that I had no earthly idea the depth of pain and sorrow that they were going through. All I could do was let them know I was there for them, and then let Thiry reach out as she was ready. She actually has at times and then at others, she pulls away and pulls within, trying desperately to make sense of a senseless situation. It's a God and time thing, and both are way above my pay grade. 

I will say though, that because of Kylie, I personally have changed and I can honestly say that there has not been one day in the last year that I haven't thought of this girl. 

Kylie's parents started a Remember Kylie page on Facebook right after she died, and throughout the year, there have been so many people share pictures, videos, and even stories of their memories of Kylie. The amazing thing is that there are a lot of people who joined the page who never knew Kylie, but through the posts and pictures, they felt like they did. She became almost as big a part of them as she was to those who did know and love her. Many is the time I have thought that Kylie was still working her magic as she was still touching lives, hearts, and souls even though she was no longer here. 

In October, Thiry and Kelly held a memorial for Kylie at the lake. It was a cool, crisp fall day that somehow to me felt like a Kylie day. There were so many people there and the memorial service was amazing. I couldn't help but look around and see just how many people's lives she was still touching in the moment. 

My two older sons both went and we also took my 7-year-old granddaughter. The whole service was just so wonderful that it made me very glad that this was little W's first experience with a funeral/memorial service. I left feeling that Kylie would more than approve. I also feel that Kylie was also working hard that day, as my older son, W's dad, who is usually very stoic was actually very moved by the service, something that doesn't often happen. And my other son ended up running into someone he had no idea had a Kylie connection and with whom he had a very contentious past. On that day, he ended up seeing the past a little differently and found some peace. It was a situation that I thought would never happen, but I have no doubt, Kylie put it into motion. 

As I said before, because of Kylie, I have changed. I now sport a beautiful sea turtle tattoo on my right wrist. I am convinced that Kylie and God had a hand in it. I got the tattoo back in June during the heat of the COVID lockdowns. I had no thoughts of getting a tattoo at the time, but one night I had some awful nightmares. While I can't remember what they were about, they woke me up suddenly, and as I woke up, my first and only thought was that I had to get a sea turtle tattoo on my right wrist. Specific...right? Yes, I knew Kylie loved sea turtles, but I myself,  had never given them much thought and I definitely had never thought of getting one tattooed on me, but for some reason, I could think of nothing else. 

I tried to fight the newfound need for the turtle tattoo, but the entire day, I became almost obsessed with the thought, so I tried to call a place. I was told that tattoo shops were not open because of COVID, and when they did open up again, there would likely be a months-long wait because of the backup. I was almost relieved because I wasn't sure I was ready for another tattoo, but apparently, Kylie would have none of it. As I opened Facebook, out of nowhere there was someone in my newsfeed that was in the next town that did tattoos. What??? I had never seen this person on Facebook before, but I had an uncontrollable urge to message her. Low and behold, she worked out of her home and had an opening the very next day. I sent her what I thought I wanted and in less than 24 hours, there I sat getting the most beautiful sea turtle I had ever seen before, tattooed on my right wrist, with Kylie's initials underneath. Best of all, I barely felt it. I can honestly say that I love the tattoo, not just because it is really beautiful, but also because I think Kylie had a hand in me getting it. 

Because of Kylie, I hold my own children much closer to my heart now. We can't possibly know God's plan for our life or our death, but I make sure that not a day goes by that I don't tell my kids how much I love them. Also because of Kylie, I do my best to go out of my way to be kind to others. I try to listen when others speak and to really hear what they have to say. I try to step out of my comfort zone at least once a week and see more of life than is just in my little piece of the world and I try to be my own genuine self and both celebrate and respect who I am. In my mind, these are all messages that Kylie sent the world, through who she was and how she was and I guess I feel that the best way to honor her now, is to honor who she was and how she lived her life. I think Kylie's genuine love and kindness for and towards her friends, family, and even complete strangers should be humanity goals for all of us. 

Through Thiry and because of Kylie, I have become much more in touch with my faith and I have opened myself up to the unimaginable wonders that might be beyond this earthly life. Of course, there are times that I can't help but wonder what might have been where Kylie is concerned. What might she have done and who might she have been as an adult? Then I remember that you can't dwell on the what-ifs. You can only focus on what is and I think in Kylie's case, what is, is still Kylie being Kylie and God has her hard at work, as she is still touching lives, bringing people to faith, and helping people to be the best versions of themselves they can be.

So Kylie, it has been a year. It has been a tough one for those who love you, but it has also been one of miracles and blessings that I have no doubt you have had a hand in. Give my mom and your grandma Ruth and Aunt Laura a hug for me and keep up the good work. You continue to make this world a better place by touching us, one person at a time. 

Until next time, hug those you love, be conscious of the blessings and miracles all around you and........never forget to say...... I love you!