"Mom!"

It never ceases to amaze me, the motherly instinct of hearing my child across a sea of people.

Last night Brooke and I went to the movie theatre. The lobby was packed full of movie-goers chatting endlessly while waiting in line at the snack bar. There were 5 rows of people, Brooke wanted candy for the movie. It was then, above the chatter, across the room, I heard “Mom!”

Mom is a common term, but instantly my head turned, it was my oldest baby girl. Mariah was in the far line getting pop & popcorn.  She ran over to Brooke & I to say hello when she said she was there with her dad to see the Adam Sandler movie “Jack and Jill.”  We were, too!

Mariah gets their popcorn and pop when I tell her, “As soon as your dad drinks the pop, thank him for me for the first sip!”  She chuckles, I smile in satisfaction.

Eric, Mariah, Brooke and I all sit together in the theater. Eric leans over to sip his pop when I leaned across Mariah to thank him for a drink. He only laughs.

Eric and I have spent the last 15 years since our divorce getting one-up on each other when it comes to our bad sense of humor.

All four of us sat in the theater together laughing at a comedy.

It was less than a week ago when I was desperately trying to figure out a way all of us could get together without it being awkward under the disguise of buying cherished time. I am also trying to get Eric to make a video for Mariah, it seems something too hard emotionally for him to do. I still want the girls to have last fond memories of time together, but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries … a new behavior I am learning since his diagnosis.

Only a few days ago when I couldn’t figure it out myself and I had to hand it over to God. “Please make opportunity arrangements were the girls both have last good memories of all of us together.”

I do believe in divine intervention.

 I do believe it wasn’t a coincidence that all of us showed up at the same movie theater, the same time for the same movie.

I’m hoping more of these opportunities present themselves.

Multi-Symptoming

It takes a good hearty virus to stop me in my tracks, but it happens once in a blue moon and it happened this week.

For weeks I have been miserable with multi-symtoms and living on meds that make me light-headed in order to function and get through my busy days. As a mom, I cling to the jingle, "I haven't got time for the pain."

After several nights on the couch after work with everything hurting and not being able to sleep, I went to the doctors. Severe bronchitis + a sinus infection.  A double whammy! A diagnosis enough to slow me down.

Sleeping on the couch so I could sleep sitting up, I set my alarm clock to get Brooke off to school. Brooke struggles between wanting to be helpful and over complaining, I believe that she isn't used to not being the center of attention. She is very helpful and thoughtful as long as it is on her terms & conditions.

We often say that we pray for Brooke's future husband. He will be a man of great patience and must excel in acts of service. Brooke wouldn't have it any other way!

Brooke takes her shower then proudly states, "I am going to pack my own lunch today! I need the practice for when I am in college and you may not be around every day to pack it for me!" 

Honest words spoken by a very honest Brooke.

Brooke and I will both be relieved when life gets back to normal.

Mama Said

“ … there'll be days like this,
There'll be days like this Mama said
(Mama said, mama said)
Mama said there'll be days like this,
There'll be days like this my Mama said”

“You will have days you will be happy and completely fine, then you will have days that your heart will hurt and you will cry,” I told Brooke.  Cry when you need to. Mommy still cries for you and your daddy, too.

She said everyone thinks she is strong and she is trying to be. “A strong person is one that is true to their emotions and feels the things they should,” I am trying to teach her, through the murky waters of her dad’s death. 

It started last night when the three of us were talking about Eric’s worsening Lou Gehrig’s. Mariah telling me the things she needs and wants to happen for her dad’s death that she is not able to tell him. I am her trusted liaison. Mariah sharing her heart and her thoughts of her dad being in heaven someday.

Eric’s struggle and continuing downward spiral with Lou Gehrig’s is resurrecting emotions Brooke does not want to deal with.

Last night she was very quiet, this morning weepy and today she called me from school. I could barely understand her, when she repeated in a broken whisper, “Remember you said there would be good days and bad days? I’m having a bad day,” she sobbed. I was at the school in 35 minutes.

She needed me.  She needed to be in the comfort of home. She also needed a super fun & new desert to shake off the depression. I whisked her away to Don Pablo’s for a fried ice cream and hot chocolate lava cake! New atmosphere, two new deserts to try, just what mom (the doctor) ordered!

I could tell the depression had been shaken off and as we walked out of Don Pablo’s, Brooke’s arm hooked in mine, she said, “I feel like the weight of the world is off my shoulders.”

“Mama said there'll be days like this,
There'll be days like this Mama said
(Mama said, mama said)
Mama said there'll be days like this,
There'll be days like this my Mama said”

That's why God made chocolate!

Scrumpdillyicious

scrumpdillyicious (adjective) : scrumptious + delicious

A quest I am in search of.

Enthusiasm. A fresh perspective. A new experience.

I am in search of the “WOW” factor. A pleasurable surprise that stirs something inside.  Bringing a knowing smile and a deserving “scrumpdillyicious!”

Many moments in life bring about a genuine “WOW!”  Oh, the beauty of the unplanned and unexpected. The sleeper. The caught off guard.

A single defining moment that soars your mind into a treasured, euphoric state, a moment forever treasured.

My trip out West to Scottsdale, Arizona being far more beautiful then I ever anticipated.

A spa day at a resort ranked #9 in the world. All-inclusive with a clay body wrap, a vichy shower and the afternoon naked in an outdoor private cabana overlooking the desert.

A hot air balloon ride in the quiet, early morning over the Sonoran Desert. Landing in the middle of no where for mimosas and a hot breakfast. 

The very essence of a man that brings all five senses alive!

My first bite into a strawberry drizzled with honey.

A foreign language spoken by a very sexy man.

A massage on the white sandy beaches of Cancun and Punta Cana. The hot breeze and the smell of the salty air only steps from the ocean.

Unexpected “ahhhh” moments in life.

Moments that are scrumpdillyicious.

Moments I embrace and long for.

A Mom and A Dad

Eric called me tonight. To let me know that he will be leaving for Florida for a few weeks and that he is afraid to leave Kirsten and the girls with precious little time left.

His muscles are freezing up in this cold winter weather and with Kirsten at work and the girls at school, Eric cannot be alone. Danny, his cousin & best friend, invited him to stay in his home in Fort Myers for the next couple of weeks. Mariah is relieved to see her dad go to warmer climates and to have Danny there for her dad around the clock.

Back in November, when Eric was diagnosed with ALS/Lou Gehrig’s Disease, I told him I needed to talk to him. The two of us as parents, about Mariah’s future. Eric informed me today that we need to have our talk soon … that he may have only one, two or three weeks left where he can talk in life. Lou Gehrig's will soon steal his ability to speak.

A couple of thoughts collide in my mind and the tears begin to pour. First, I am not ready for this conversation needing to take place so quickly. What happened to time?  Second, it was only a year ago that I had my last parenting conversation with Keith about Brooke before his suicide. A “last” conversation forever etched in my mind.

This time, Mariah’s dad. I have a window of time that is ending too quickly.

This conversation and those realizations hit as I am driving home from work on 77 South as I am approaching the CAK exit. I can’t speak. He can't either. Seconds pass and I cry, “I hate this” and he agrees.

The next 45 minutes we talk about a video that needs to be made for Mariah’s wedding day … a day he won’t be around for. We discuss college, health insurance, their finances through this ordeal and Eric shares with me conversations he has had with Mariah with guidance on what he wants for her as far as her financial security and her happiness in her future.

He tells me again how guilty he feels that Brooke will lose another male-figure and that he prays for Brooke all the time that someone will step up and fill that role in her life. A role that he helped fill along with my dad and brother, a year ago.

Eric wants to get a Facebook page and connect with old friends he hasn’t seen in years. We talk about friends he has recently seen that were our friends 23 years ago when we started dating.

I’m thankful that Eric and I are both open with each other, a mom and a dad sharing a daughter, talking about critical issues and crying together. Letting bygones be bygones.

I sit in my garage for a ½ hour unable to get out of the car so Mariah & Brooke cannot overhear our conversations. God knows I am not ready for this, but it is going to happen out of a timeline I am even remotely okay with.

Our conversation ends, I walk into my home and needed a significant other there, for me. I needed someone to talk to, a heart-to-heart partner because I couldn’t stop crying or get my act together for my girls.

There is one person, besides my parents, that is a rock in my life.

Bobby.

After the trauma of Keith’s suicide and the phone call of Eric’s diagnosis, he is always my 2^nd call after my mom & dad. When trauma hits, there is a small intimate group I will reach out to. It is defining moments in life and those you turn to during crisis that defines friendships.

Bobby is a source of strength, a voice of reason and a rock when I have nothing left. He has been in my life for four years. We are not exclusive nor do we need to be … comfort, familiarity, a partner, just a phone call away. It works for us.

I cried and exhausted my thoughts, he listened. He gave me a great suggestion for a video for Eric to do for Mariah.

Empty. Exhausted. Emotionally drained.

Lou Gehrig’s has no mercy.

A mom and a dad.

God, please give us more time. 

An Autobiography

Brooke is writing an autobiography on herself for a school project. 

She wants it to sound sensational and fun to impress on what she has done and her accomplishments, but it isn’t describing her.  Not the Brooke I would describe.

Brooke, my little girl that is stuck in between being a little girl who loves to play with toys and Barbie dolls, and Brooke the pre-teen who is transitioning into a young woman.

My Brooke is a home body. She loves to be at home, play outdoors all day, ride her scooter, play with the neighbor boys, loves technology, loves ice cream and isn’t quite into the phase of liking showers every day.  Quite honestly, it’s what we argue the most about.

Debbie, her dad’s partner, brought her Christmas presents. Gift cards and a body spray/lotion set.  Debbie asked Brooke if she like body spray.  Brooke gladly replied, “I love body sprays and I will wear it the days I don’t take showers!”  Well said Brooke and she meant it. I couldn’t stifle my laugh!

That is Brooke.

Too bad it isn’t a biography and I get to write it! J

A Letter From A Friend

This is the 2^nd morning I have cried.

Let me back up … to decades ago. Between the ages of 15 years and my early 30’s I had a very best friend, Charlotte. Life happens and we lost touch over the last 6-7 years.

I received a Christmas card in the mail from her only weeks ago. The card was a family picture of her, her husband, two daughters (that were toddlers the last time I saw them) and a new baby. She had a baby! Having her new address I was happy I could send a Christmas card back. A card with a letter.

My letter let her know about both Brooke and Mariah’s dads along with my email address.

Yesterday morning I opened my 1^st email from her.

A span of time bridged. Life quickly catching up.

It was her words of friendship that she cried when she read my letter. That she couldn’t explain to her husband our friendship so long ago to life’s tragic turns. My own fresh tears of friendship.

She remembers. She was there and remembers Eric and Keith. Through my own tears reading her letter, I remembered Charlotte and Eric’s relationship and laughed to myself at the memories. I often thought of their relationship similar to the tv sitcom “Martin.” The constant teasing and insulting relationship between Martin and Pam, Gina’s best friend. Eric made her cry the first day they met, that alone made the next 10 years of my relationship with Eric full of laughs and insults between those two.  

I read on ... Charlotte lost someone, too. A daughter. Two years ago.

My favorite part of the day is early in the morning when my home is quiet and I am the only one awake. Coffee. Christmas lights. The Today show. Ahhhh, me time!

Early this morning I opened her 2^nd email. Her daughter was born and died a couple short hours later two years ago 'today' ... fresh tears for her.

Tears for her loss. Tears for her pain. Prayers for her strength today.

My thankful heart for time that spans and friendship mended.

Life catching up quickly.