Living With Lupus - The Crash

Howdy!

If this is your first time here, Welcome! If you came here specifically for this post in particular, I would assume that you either:

A) Have SLE/Lupus

B) Wonder if, or think you might, have SLE/Lupus   OR

C) Live with, or care for someone with SLE/Lupus

Those of you who've been reading this and/or my other blog, Go Ahead... Take A Bite! for a while, already know that I have Lupus. And if you've read certain posts in particular over the years, you've also learned a bit more about just what Lupus is and about how long and sometimes unbearable the road to a "formal" Lupus diagnosis can be. Lupus is an autoimmune disease, which (of course) means that it affects the immune system and because of that, it usually piggy-backs a whole host of other debilitating health issues along with it.

If you're one of the dear friends who go way back to the very beginnings of my life as a blogger, you also know that the cold Winters here in the Northeast can be the absolute worst time of the year for someone with these crazy health issues. ...and how that aspect of the illness has kept me away (at times a month or often more) from my blogs for long periods, without allowing me an opportunity to let you all know ahead of time that I'd be taking a break. I'm sure it goes without saying, but these absences also spill over into other areas of my personal and internet life. I certainly don't have the emotional or physical strength to keep up with the various social media networks that the blogs and I are a part of, but one of the most difficult and upsetting parts of this illness for me, is how it affects the amount of time that I'm able to spend with family and friends.

Someone told me a long time ago that a chronic illness can be like a death. A death of self. And like any death, it's something that you had to mourn. Now, that might sound pretty extreme or over the top to people who don't live this way. Trust me... It would have sounded pretty "dramatic" to me, too... before I got sick. But it's the best advice that I could give to anyone who asked me what the most important things were that they needed to do, post diagnosis of any painful and debilitating chronic illness, in order to start accepting what is happening to them and that it's the best way to to help you start to move forward.

Once you are able to wrap your brain around those things - and that is NOT an easy thing to do - you also need to prepare yourself to accept the fact that more often than not, even the closest people in your life will likely never fully understand how sick you really are.

That very wise person also told me that when you're chronically ill, your world shrinks. OK... It doesn't literally shrink. Obviously, it's a metaphor. But... that doesn't make it any less difficult to deal with. You don't do the things that you used to do and you don't often see the people that you used to see. And no matter what people might think, it's not because you don't want to.

Believe me... I miss the people in my life that I used to see on a regular basis more than I can say. And it kills me that I now miss out on so many things that I used to do. I wish at least once every day, that I could be the person I used to be. But, I can't.... because I have a chronic illness that has robbed me of all of those things.

If you've been diagnosed with a debilitating chronic illness, I'm sure you've either found, or are in the process of finding, a medical provider to help treat your illness. But I'll offer up one more piece of advice... Make sure to find a good mental health practitioner/provider and utilize their skills to the fullest. Being in pain is hard, but being isolated a great deal of the time can foster both depression and anxiety and that can be as bad, or worse, than the physical pain.

Source Google Images

So. Getting back to the subject in the title of this post... This past Winter was a little different for me. It's not that all of those nasty health issues didn't raise their ugly little heads. If anything, it was (and continues to be) quite the opposite.

But, that being said, there were factors other than the usual Winter time issues that helped to play a part in my absence from the blog at the end of last year and the beginning of this one. But what made it a different experience for me was that the last few weeks of 2014 and the start of the New Year was a time that I wouldn't have changed a moment of. Nope. Not even the "less than pleasant" ones. Not for all of the material riches that this world could offer.

OK, so what in the world could make me say a crazy thing like that? Have I reached a point where I've become a masochist? Or, maybe I've just finally lost my mind? Nah...

You see, back at the beginning of December, I excitedly and anxiously hopped on a plane and headed South, so that I could be present for and at the birth of our new grandson! (who, btw also happens to also be our first grandchild!!) He was born in the second week of the month and if you've been through this joyful experience already, I'm sure I don't have to explain that I had already made plans to stay on for a while after he arrived, in order to be able to spend time loving on the new baby and to also do my best to help out in any way that I could, while the new parents were getting used to being a family of three. (I guess I should make that five, when you count their furry kids!)

The Hubbs, (aka Grandpa) had to work for those first couple of weeks, but he drove down little before Christmas, so that we could all spend the Holidays together. I'm sure that it's fairly obvious, but having a brand new, sweet smelling snuggly soft member of the family, is by far THE best Christmas present EVER! Believe me when I say that we really hated to leave, but we begrudgingly headed back North a few days into the New Year.

So how did all of this change the impact of what the Winter months are usually like for me? I'll do my best to explain, in the best way(s) that I know how.

Source Google Images

If you live with any kind of chronic and/or physically debilitating illness, you learn very quickly that payback is inevitable any and every time you push or exert yourself more than you should. So, of course, I experienced some serious payback once I returned home. And I've been dealing with this long enough to know fully well that it was coming, long before I ever made the decision to go. But really... can you blame me for going anyway?

You see... even when you're sick, every so often an event or an occasion comes along that is SO important... SO special, that you make the deliberate choice to willingly and very happily, push yourself beyond your usual limitations; all the while knowing that there will be consequences. You do it, not because you're a masochist and certainly not because you have a need to impress anyone with some kind of proof of your so called "strength". You do it because it's so much more important and well beyond worth, any level of payback that follows.

Source Google Images

In a nutshell... The human mind can do some truly amazing things when the joys in life demand it. Unfortunately, these amazing things are often only temporary.

I can't speak to how others in my position deal with it, but in my case, I've taught myself to mentally (for lack of a better way to word it) go to a place where my brain works very hard to push the reality that I have a painful illness, as far out of the way as it possibly can. In essence, I'll will myself into what I suppose you could call a kind of temporary amnesia. That way, my brain then tells my body that it can pretty much do whatever it needs to do and that the pain associated with these actions, is more or less, an illusion.

Sound a little crazy? Yeah, well... keep in mind the fact that I also make sure that I have and use every possible tool in my "pain arsenal", in order to get through that period of time. Those tools include the usual suspects, like medication and grabbing as much rest as I can in between physical activities. It's surprising at first, what kinds of tools you also develop yourself along the way, that help you survive a particular situation. But, don't forget that every person who lives with a chronic illness is different and that the tools they use to get through a given situation are very personal to their illness and in turn, their experience with it.

Then, because (as I mentioned above) this thing that I do is strictly a temporary super power, once the experience is over, that part of my brain that has basically been on a self imposed hiatus, inevitably kicks itself right back into gear and clearly (often brutally) reminds my body exactly what it's been through. This is the point when my body wakes up from the oblivious state it's been in and it reacts.

I refer to this as "the crash". Yeah, I know... not terribly original, is it?

Definitions aside, believe me when I say that by my second day back home from that trip, I crashed. And I crashed BIG!

I spent the next two and a half or three weeks, sleeping an average of 18 to 20 hours a day. On those occasions that I did awaken, which altogether could be counted in minutes, not hours of awake time, I was so fogged over and I hurt so much, that I was well... useless. I was able to make it to the bathroom, or to the kitchen for a cold drink, or maybe a nibble of something. But cook a meal? Ha! Do even a small load of laundry? Not on your life! Take a shower? Um, maybe three times, that I can recall.

My poor, sweet husband... heaven help him, has been through this kind of crash with me more times than I can even begin to count and he knows only too well, what it is that's going to happen when it comes. Luckily for me (and sadly for him) it's made him quite capable of taking care of the things that need to be done, like maintaining a clean work wardrobe and preparing meals for himself.

...And that's when I start beating myself up.

No matter how many times we've been through this kind of crash over the last decade (plus), I always feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Always. I tell him all the time that I'd never hold it against him if he decided one of these days, to just trade me in for a new unbroken model. Because in my mind, he didn't sign on for this. I mean, seriously?? Nobody would ever willingly sign on for this. At least that's what the never ending cycle of negative "self talk" keeps telling me. But, because of the very special heart and the incredibly loving soul that this man that I love with all of my heart possesses, his response is always the same:

"Yes I did. Don't you remember? For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do us part? I love you and I'm in this for keeps. And you know damned well that you'd do the same exact thing for me, if the tables were turned."

And he's absolutely right. I would. In a heartbeat.

In the grand scheme of things, being there for the birth of our grandson was just as amazing and just as wondrous as the moments that our own girls were born. As I said before, I wouldn't have... no, actually I couldn't have missed it. Not for the world.

And I now have a completely renewed perception of the how "things (ya know, major things like life and love) come full circle". And I've definitely gotta say, that part of it is flippin' awesome!

Well, I believe that's about it... for now. Trust me. If I were to continue carrying on in the direction that this post has started to take me, I'd most certainly end up creating a big ol' puddle of salty tears, which would in turn ruin my makeup and quite possibly, short out my keyboard. ;)

Oh... and since I don't have any reasonable expectation that my Lupus is going away any time soon and there will hopefully always be something that happens in my life that's worth "crashing" for, I'm sure that I'll be posting more about both subjects, again. And again. And again....

If you live with a chronic illness, how do you deal or cope with "the crash"? I'm sure we all have our own little tips and tricks. Or maybe you are just beginning this journey and have questions that I might be able to help with. Say hello and let me know in the comments!


Live Well,

Mary

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A Shocking Turn of Events, An Update and A Blog Break

This identical post is appearing on both of my blogs, so for those of you who subscribe to both, I apologize for the duplication.

Hello all,

Just wanted to get a short note out, to explain what's been going on in my world and to let you know that I'll be here on a somewhat limited or spoadic basis, at least for a little while, anyway. It's hard to be specific about potential posting dates, but I hope it won't be too long before I'm able to get back to the blog on a more full time basis. So, what's the big hold-up?

Well, much to my surprise, (and shock) a little over a week ago, I had (and am now recuperating from) a pretty serious heart attack. Honestly, folks... I never saw it coming and I had no idea that I was even remotely "in the risk zone", until it happened.

The Hubbers and I were out shopping at the local outlet stores, for some last minute attire and accessories for our daughter's upcoming (August) wedding in Virginia. It was unbearably hot (as it has been for most of the summer here in the Northeast) and I was feeling quite unwell, from what I assumed was a combination of how brutally high temperatures and humidity affect my Lupus and what I believed at the time, was a really bad case of heartburn, that I'd been battling on and off for the last couple of days. We decided to head home, but once we were in the car and on our way, that little intuitive voice in my head told me that something was horribly wrong and I told my Hubby that he needed to drive me straight to the Emergency Room instead.

After arriving at out local hospital's ER and once it was determined that I was indeed in the midst of a major
cardiac episode, I was taken upstairs to the Cardiac Catheterization Lab where over the next 2 hours, three arterial wire mesh stents were placed, during a procedure called an angioplasty. After three days in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, I was discharged home and ordered by my doctors to rest extensively and lay pretty low, so that my body has an opportunity to heal from this unexpected and frankly, terrifying attack. I honestly feel like I've been hit head on by a Mack truck and I believe this will be a long recovery for me.

On a slightly more positive note, my doctors were somewhat astounded by how little permenant damage there seems to have been to my heart, given that I had what was apparently, a major heart attack.

I'll try to post updates as often as I'm feeling up to it throughout the coming weeks, as I slowly but surely heal and get myself back on track. I am one incredibly lucky woman and I can't even begin to say how grateful I am to the doctors, nurses, aids and other staff at our local hospital, for literally saving my life.

And as for my husband, my daughter and other family members and friends.... well, let's just say that without their love and constant attention, I would have never made it through all of this with the kind of strength that I needed to push through the pain and work toward getting home and on my way to recovery. They have been taking exceptional care of me here at home and I am truly blessed.

Take good care of yourselves and of each other, my friends. You never know what might be around the corner.....

A Special Prayer Request

Hello All...

It's been a while since I've posted anything on this blog and for the most part, it's been due to a very busy summer. A summer filled with home and yard work, parties, short trips and house guests. All pretty normal, generally happy things, right?

You know the old saying, "It never rains, but it pours"??

Well, at the moment, I need... no, my family and I, need your prayers. And in all honesty, if you could spare a few good vibes and pass them along in our general direction, they'd be very much welcomed as well.

I know that we aren't the only people who have something difficult happening to them and one of the most important lessons I've learned in my 50 years on this planet, is to be truly grateful for the blessings that I do have, but at the moment, life is throwing us a bucket full of curve balls and they all seem to be flying across the plate at once.

On Thursday of last week, we received a call from Hubby's brother saying that their uncle, who has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's Disease, is missing. The last time that anyone saw him was on Saturday afternoon. On Monday, his empty, out of gas car, was found sitting on the side of a very rural and desolate highway in Pennsylvania, seven or eight hours North of his home. The local and state police have searched by ground and air and they have been doing everything in their power to find him, but as of this writing, we still have nothing.

On Friday morning, my sister-in-law's mother passed away, following a brief illness. My brother-in-law, sister in law, their three grown children and our daughter, will all be arriving from out of town, starting on Wednesday, for the calling hours and funeral on Thursday and Friday.  She lost her father at almost this same time last year and I think it's starting to really sink in for all of us, that we're at "that age" when the people we've relied on to guide and support us through our lives, are reaching the part of their lives, where their journey here on Earth is coming to a close. It's hard to lose the people that we love. And it's hard to come to grips with the realization that an entire generation is slipping away.

And as those of you who've known me for a while are aware, Hubby and I lost our precious younger daughter, when she was just a little one, from a fatal reaction to a routine medication. She was a miracle baby, who blessedly came into our life, after several years of believing that we wouldn't ever be able to have another child. Well, yesterday was her birthday. She would have been 12 years old.

Normally, at this time each year, I take a little time off from blogging, to reflect, remember and miss her in my own way. Not that we don't think of her and talk about her every single day... We do. She was and still is at the very core of our lives as a family and she'll never, ever be far from our hearts, or our memories. It's just that on days like her birthday or the anniversary of her passing, in order to be able to go on through the rest of the year with some semblance of normalcy, I need to be still and to heal. 

When you lose a child, I don't believe that you ever stop mourning for them. You pray and you move forward and do your best to live a life that has purpose and meaning, but that life is never quite the same again. I know that I'll have "these days" for the rest of my life, and that's OK. I gave myself permission a long time ago, to grieve in my own way and in my own time.

But, as you can see, we are in need of all of the prayer we can get at the moment.  So, if you could spare a moment, to say a few words of your own choosing, it would be more appreciated than you could ever know.

Thank you and God Bless you all, for being the most amazing, supportive community of  people, that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Mary

Thank You ~ STMUSS

Happy Memorial Day weekend everyone!

My dad was a veteran of WWII or "The Big One" as his generation called it. He spent 4 years in the European Theater of Operations in France, Germany and England. He was proud of his service to his country and he made and kept several life long friends during those year. I still exchange Christmas cards with one of his Army buddies and his wife. They're in their 90's and I am just thrilled to be able to keep in touch with them, long after my own folks have passed. We spent many a summer vacation at at their home in Maryland when my brother and I were growing up and they are just simply some of the nicest people you could ever meet.

We also have friends who served in the Korean and Vietnam wars. Sadly, we lost one of those very dear friends just a couple of months ago. He served 3 tours in Vietnam and when he came home, I'm sad to say, there was no "hero's welcome" for him or for his fellow soldiers, sailors, airmen and corpsmen.

This song was written recently by Dave Mason and Johanne Sambataro and the video was produced by Mark Pastoria.  Dave is a co-founder of an organization called Work Vessels For Vets, an "all-volunteer movement assisting returning veterans to begin their civilian careers or educational pursuits by acquiring and distributing the necessary start-up tools. Founded with the gift of a fishing boat that began a commercial fishing career for a returning Iraq veteran, the foundation is expanding its outreach to other industries to assist our returning military." Source

If you'd like to, you can make a donation by going to Dave Mason's official website where you can also listen to or download the song and you can also see the lyrics. You can also make a donation at the WVFW website. (link above)




Now, as most of you know, I usually do a now and then of the videos that I choose for STMUSS (it just wouldn't be a STMUSS post if I didn't, now would it? LOL) BUT, I'm actually going to post a newer version of an old song that Dave wrote and helped to make famous with the band Traffic, back in the late 60's and early 70's. This performance was filmed during Traffic's induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in March of 2004.  The musicians on stage include: Mason, Steve Winwood on keyboards, Jim Capaldi on bongos (both fellow inductees and band mates in Traffic), Keith Richards, Tom Petty, Jackson Browne, ZZ Top, the Temptations and other greats in the music industry. Fellow band mate Chris Wood was inducted posthumously. His sister Stephanie was there to accept for him. Jim Capaldi passed away from cancer at the age of 60, not quite a year later in January of 2005.



Happy Memorial Day! Have a happy and safe weekend!

Here's the link kids!

Adirondack Weekends ~ Rathbuns Maple Sugar House

I thought I'd try something new here at Spilled On The Kitchen Table, as a way to fill you in on the places around my region where the Hubbs and I spend our free time. For the time being, these posts will not be a regular or scheduled feature. That could change down the road, if you all like them and as long as I have the time to do them. I'm tentatively calling this... Adirondack Weekends. (** See the note at the bottom of this post)

As many of you probably know, I'm a weekend golf widow. In the Winter months, it's "indoor golf" and then when Spring and Summer roll around, it's any/every golf course within 100 miles of our home. There are a couple of courses where he plays more regularly and he has a group of buddies who are right there every weekend with him. Yup... Golf. Saturday and Sunday. He's addicted to the game.

I really don't mind that Hubbs plays golf. Really. Put simply, it makes him happy. And when he's happy, I'm happy. Maybe that comes across as a little old fashioned to some. Maybe I'm a bit of a dinosaur, in this era of the (alleged) "war on women". But, I certainly don't feel that way. (Frankly, I don't see where a war exists, but that's for another day and another rant post.) Basically, we've been happily doing this marriage thing for almost 30 years and plan to continue doing it til death do us part, so I'm pretty sure that we're doing something right.

I do have one rule.... The weekends are 50% mine. On Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings, I get his undivided attention. Simple, right? Not much to ask? He doesn't think so. Ya see, over the last decade or so (since I've been sick) I've learned that I have to lay low during the week, so that I'll have the energy and the physical wherewithal to spend time hanging out with him on the weekend. My illness tends to cause periods of extreme fatigue and more often than not, even small increases in physical activity can result in days or possibly weeks of elevated pain. Luckily, he totally gets that and we both feel like my "rule" is a fair one.

It doesn't have to be anything earth shattering. It can be as simple as going to the grocery store and/or running other errands that we don't get around to during the week. Or, we might work around the house or in the yard like we did this past weekend. Or, on a cold winter day, we might spend hours in the kitchen making a big pot of "Sunday Gravy".

We'll usually go somewhere for lunch or dinner on Saturdays, and every Sunday morning we go out for breakfast. From time to time, he'll pass on golf for the entire weekend, so that we can take a short trip to visit friends or family a couple of hours away.

Obviously, this little schedule is flexible. Even though he loves the game of golf like it's his calling, I can ask him to take the weekend off for absolutely no reason in particular and it's a done deal. Likewise, there are weekends where he might have a tournament that spans two or three days and he's on the course the entire weekend. Like life in general, nothing is truly set in stone.

Last weekend, we decided to hop in the car and head over to North Granville NY (about a 30 minute drive and just shy of the Vermont border) to a place that we've both loved since we were kids... Rathbun's Maple Sugar House. Rathbun's has been a working sugar house for over four decades and is owned and operated by three generations of the Rathbun family.

Of course, Rathbun's claim to fame is their pure maple syrup and a myriad of other maple products, but they also have a quaint, rustic little restaurant, where you can slather that maple-y goodness all over a big plate of made from scratch pancakes, eggs, french toast, Belgian waffles, old fashioned oatmeal and country sausage gravy with fresh biscuits. They also serve some of the most incredibly delicious sausage and crispy bacon that I've ever tasted.

They have a sweet gift shop out back where you can buy their syrups, candies and other maple products, plus a great selection of gifts, including enamelware, dried flower and herb wreaths and pottery. Of course, I always come home with a little something for my pantry or to add to my ever growing collection of dishes, serving pieces and accessories. (See what I just had to have at the end of this post)

We always enjoy wandering around the property after breakfast, taking photos of the old farming and sugaring equipment that's been left there for Mother Nature to do with what she will...

Or just soaking up some warm Spring sunshine or later in the year, marveling at the bright reds, yellows and oranges of the trees and breathing in that crisp New England Fall air.

In the very early Spring, during "sugaring time" you can watch them boil the sap down to make the syrup and weather permitting, you might even be able to take a sleigh ride around the property or have a little taste of their pure maple syrup on scoops of fresh snow... kind of like a maple snow cone.

In the Fall, they serve warm apple cider and sell pumpkins and other autumnal goodies to decorate your home and yard. Whether you make the trip to enjoy a delicious breakfast or just to browse around the grounds and gift shop, Rathbun's is a unique and thoroughly enjoyable way to spend a Saturday or Sunday morning. About 20 years ago, my inlaws went for breakfast on a Saturday morning and came home with a new puppy! Now, I'm not saying that's one of their regular offerings, but it just goes to show... you never know what you might find on a trip to the country on a weekend morning.

Here's a peek at the goodies that I couldn't live leave without on this visit...

** I have not been asked to review/write or been compensated for this post in any way. All opinions, photos and details are my own, or those of my family and friends.

Mainly Maine

I chose #5 from Mama Kat's prompts this week: What was the occasion? Write about the last time you stayed in a hotel.

The last time we stayed in a hotel was this past Fall. September to be exact. We stayed at The Beachmere Inn, in Ogunquit Maine. As a matter of fact, we stay at this hotel every year in September, because my Hubbs is a darling, dear, sweet man who loves me more than anything in the world. Even more than golf. Or so he says. ;~)

Ya see, I have this thing about the Northeast coast. Especially the Southern Maine coast. Most specifically, Ogunquit and the surrounding areas of York and Kennebunkport. I don't know why. Maybe I was a bawdy bar wench salty old sea captain in a former life. Whatever it is, when we hit that stretch of highway right around Portsmouth NH and I roll my window down and take my first breath of that sea air, my mood changes completely. It's as if all of the cares and woes of the world, just melt away.

September is my "birthday month" and our anniversary is in October, so our annual trip is a kind of shared celebration of both. The family that owns and runs The Beachmere Inn are some of the nicest, kindest, most thoughtful people I know and they are the consummate "innkeepers". Because they found out about our little joint celebration each September, they have a special little treat waiting for us in our room when we check in. Every year.

I was drawn to it when I vacationed there with my family growing up. I rented summer cottages there with friends in the years following high school and through college. We loved and laughed and played there both as a young family and sometimes, just as a couple. The day after we said our last goodbyes to our youngest daughter, my little family needed to be in a place where we could begin to grieve and to heal, so we we packed a bag and headed to Maine.

It is my place of solace and peace. It is my place of renewal and reflection. It is the one place, other than my home here in NY, where my soul feels most at home. The brilliant blue skies, the golden sunrises and the sweet salt air of Maine, co-exist equally and interchangeably along the spectrum of my memories. The joyful, the reflective, the silly and the sorrowful.

Ogunquit is a Native American word that means Beautiful Place By The Sea. They must have read my heart when they named it, because that is indeed, what it is.

Linking up with:




  

Mother, Mother, Mother Pin a Rose On Me

Via

Time for Mama Kat's (pretty much world famous) Writer's Workshop! This week, I've chosen prompt #4 ~ "On the bachelor, a rose is given to the women he could really see himself living the rest of his life with. What six things in your life would you like to give a rose to and why?"

1. My parents - For setting a quiet, honest example of strength and faith and teaching me the importance of empathy, respect and a belief in the impossible.

2. My husband - For choosing to know and accept me for who I am and for loving me, for better or for worse. Every. Single. Day.

3. My children - For showing me that love does not recognize time, presence or imperfection and for making me work harder every day to be a better person.

4. My extended family and my friends - For seeing me as someone who is worthy of their time, trust and support, without ever expecting anything in return.

5. My medical "team" - For having the genuine desire to help me live the best life that I can ( Lupus and Raynaud's) and for treating me like a human being and not just an insurance ID number.

6. Blogging - For giving me a an outlet at a time when my life was changing in a very profound way and a platform where I can express myself creatively and meet  some truly amazing people.


Here's the link, peeps. You know what to do. :~)

A Gift Of The Heart

Howdy Everyone!

It's the new year and as most of us are fond of doing around this time, I've been reflecting on the past 12 months and pondering the year ahead.

But enough about reflection, for now. What I really wanted to do, was show you and tell you about the most special gift that I received this Christmas. Don't get me wrong...  I really love everything that I received, but there is one gift that stands out among the rest - and in the spirit of full disclosure, made me cry.  They were familiar tears, but more than anything else, they were a pure manifestation of the deepest love I have in my heart. A mother's love.  I honestly felt like my heart would bust wide open.

Our grown daughter is the light of our lives. She's beautiful and she's smart, but what makes her so incredibly special, is her heart. She possesses an infinite capacity for love, compassion and empathy. When she was just a tiny wisp of a girl, she would beg me to stop the car whenever we would pass someone along the street who was elderly or looked a bit disheveled. For some reason, she always assumed that these folks were all alone in the world and she insisted that we take them home with us, where they'd be safe and warm and we could take care of them. It usually took the rest of the day, to convince her that they'd be OK.

Although I thanked her later when she called on Christmas morning and even admitted that it made me cry, I don't know if she had any idea how deeply her gift impacted me. I won't go into all of the detail right now, but it's something she made for me as a kind of remembrance of her little sister, who we lost eleven years ago.

You see, her father and I spent an awful lot of time away from home during the time that our youngest was fighting for her life. We thought constantly about our first born during that time, but the hospital was over an hour away from our home and during the few hours a day that we weren't at the hospital, we pretty much moved in with a family member who lived close by, while she stayed with friends and family back home.

She was sixteen at the time and very much in her own world of hormones and teenage angst, and no matter how many times I asked if she wanted to talk about it with me or her dad, or anyone at all, the reply was always the same. "No, mom. I'm fine. I talk to my friends." We spoke on the phone every day that we couldn't spend with her and she came down with family members when she could, but it was incredibly hard on all of us. I can't even begin to tell you how it can tear you up inside when you are faced with spending all of your time and energy focusing on the needs of one of your children, while the other needs you just as much.

She still keeps her feelings very guarded. As much as I wish she would share her innermost thoughts with me, we all have our own way of coping and moving forward... and I respect that. What keeps me from worrying too much about her, is that I know that she always finds a way to express the things she feels. This time, it was through her beautiful handmade gift.

When I unwrapped the package, the first thing that I saw were the blue letters, printed in her own hand. As I tore the paper away further, I saw one and then another brightly colored leaf, lovingly and carefully applied to the branches of the tree. I knew the words without looking at them. I'd read them, over and over again, day after day, night after night, sitting in a dimly lit hospital room.

But I still felt the need to read them out loud. So, I cleared my throat and began. I read the familiar words, as my husband sat and listened while I struggled to get the words out. Without lifting my head from the frame in my hands, I knew that his eyes were filling up with the same salty, stinging tears that were threatening to spill out of my own.

Like most parents, we always wondered if we were saying and doing the right things. Did we listen well enough or push hard enough when it mattered?  Should we have done things differently?  Did anything we said or did right, sink in when it was supposed to?

I have my answer when I see this beautiful child who is now an incredible young woman;  No, we may not have always done or said exactly the right thing. Yes, we've made our share of mistakes along the way. But we've loved our children with all that we have inside of us and we did the very best that we knew how to do.

And in this crazy, wild, sometimes heartbreaking ride called parenthood... that's enough.

I wish all of you a Happy, Healthy and Love Filled New Year

The Ginger Cookie Connection

If you're here reading this post because you followed the link on my other blog, I need to include a bit of an introduction to what follows. For the record, the Mr and I have known each other far longer than the 30+ years that we've been together.  He was my older brother's best buddy and his sister and I were great friends as well. We all grew up together and yes, there was a time when we could barely stand to be in the same room together. But, as is the case with many things in life, feelings change and kids grow up to discover that sometimes the very things that you never would have expected to happen, well... happen. Hence, The Ginger Cookie Connection.



When I think back on my childhood, there's certainly no shortage of wonderful memories. Summers were spent riding bikes, playing kickball and spending hours and hours swimming in the beautiful lakes that dot the landscape of the Adirondack foothills and Southwestern Vermont. One of my fondest food related memories, is of an older couple who had a small farm along one of the roads leading North to Lake George.

Every summer, the farmer's wife would make batch after batch of chewy, sugary Ginger Cookies and sell them in small brown bags, rolled tightly shut at the top, out of a weathered old farmstand at the side of the road. If you were lucky enough to get there at just the right time of day, they'd still be warm and their spicy, sweet fragrance would hit you as soon as she handed over the bag.

Since most households back in the late 60's and early 70's had only one car and very few families had a pool, our mothers took turns hauling half the neighborhood to the lake to cool off on hot summer days. On the weekdays the car was usually filled to capacity with rowdy, sweaty, hungry kids and an extra mom or two to chaperone. (if there was enough room) Mind you, those were the days before the ubiquitous mini-van sat in every driveway in the neighborhood. There's a reason those old wood sided station wagons were so popular.

On the weekends, dads would take over the driving duties and moms would fill wicker picnic baskets and old metal coolers with sandwiches, cold salads and soda or Kool-Aid, along with an old blanket or two to toss over the ancient grey picnic tables that seemed to have just sprouted up out of the ground years before, along the shores of many swimming spots. These beleaguered moms and dads knew they'd have full blown anarchy on their hands if they failed to stop at the "cookie lady's" stand on the way to the lake. They also learned pretty quickly that it was best to buy several dozen of those heavenly cookies, if they had any hopes of getting one or two for themselves.


As the years passed, without explanation or fanfare, the cookie lady and her stand disappeared as if they'd never existed. The kids of summer grew up and the worn old picnic baskets and dented metal coolers were filled with something a wee bit stronger and maybe a package of hot dogs and some chips. Maybe. The now threadbare blankets were still brought along, just in case a couple or two felt the urge to slip away into the woods to steal a kiss or two.

The cookie lady and her sweet, spicy legacy became a fond but distant memory as the cars sped past the old farm, still filled to capacity with sweaty, hungry "kids" and not a parent in sight.  I've often wondered why the cookie lady stopped baking those wonderful ginger cookies. I never wanted to entertain the obvious answer, so I just imagined that she moved to a new town, miracle oven in tow, to introduce a new generation of summertime families to her delicious cookies and their own unforgettable memories.

I'm linking up today with: