Life is just so cruel sometimes

Been awhile..

A sad post today due to a month that I so wish could be started over. On April 8th my father-in-law passed away after months of hospital visits, misery, and all around bad health. He was such a wonderful man and father figure to me. He loved it when I would take care of him--never batted me away and accepted it with great willingness, he liked me to make him food, get him things, make jokes with him, and was always so good to me and said such wonderful things about me. He was honest to a fault in many ways and never hesitated to tell you what he thought and how things were. His loss is deep and only 12 days before my own father five years ago. P is having a hard time as are the kids but that is something that is expected with such a loss.

Mr. T had a long successful life...from bringing home his quirky Bird Scare Predator Eye and introducing it to NASA creating a name for himself publicly and then not such great success with something called the fishmitt that would never have been a hit with avid fisherman. He even interviewed on the morning show of KQRS which is so far away from the type of man he was. Could probably still find it online somewhere. He traveled to many places including Japan and loved to bring his woman to Mexico for vacations and laze around on the sandy beaches. He never stopped looking for that multi-million dollar discovery to bring his family fame and fortune. Even in his hospital bed he relished his great successes in life, bragging proudly of them.

All his stories of his childhood days he loved to share with us...he was a good man and will be missed forever. His final days were less than wonderful but memorable all the same. P and our family were fortunate to spend one very special day with him in the hospital the day before he left us. One we will cherish forever and feel special to have been part of. Tomorrow we will celebrate his life and put some closure on this very sad time and begin the journey of healing.

On Monday my mother had a fire in her basement. The damage from the smoke is pretty extensive...my childhood home will forever be changed due to this event. Loss is pretty substantial as I speak to her each day..there is always something new being added to the list. She is holed up in a hotel for 6-8 weeks until all the repairs can be completed. She is fine aside from sadness of the loss of so much.

Lastly, our beloved Brooks the Beagle from Barron lost to the devil last night after he was hit by a car. A very good dog, a loyal yapper who stole my place on the couch every day. He would see his opportunity to lay in a warm spot and take it, never failed. His buddy Reggie the Retriever stood over him on the road and guarded him P was told. A man stopped and heard P calling the dogs and told him that he thought our puppy was gone. Needless to say....P had to wake me to tell me...we decided to wake the kids and bury our beloved pet last night shortly after--at 12:30.

Life is effing cruel....it's been very hard on all of us this last month. Emotions are lost in tears and pain and the feeling of just crawling out of our skin is overwhelming. We look very forward to moving forward but the moment is just lost in sorrow....no turning right or left is going to ease it right now.

Please keep my husband and children in your thoughts and say a prayer that nothing else will drop on this family right now. It's too much for the mojo.....


 

Year four is killing me

Each year this day comes one of the first things I tell myself is next year things will not hurt as much. Time heals all wounds is the saying right? Ha! Now that seems to be a joke on us! Sorry, I'm a bit angry or maybe it's frustrated. This month didn't sneak up on me like they have the last couple years. In fact it's been building since the end of March. The thoughts of the days in the hospital with my dad so vivid I can hear everything all over again.

Our son's soccer started again this year around that time at the local ice arena. On April 6, 2008 while we were there for soccer I received the call that would be the beginning of the end. Perhaps being there early this month watching his team do drills triggered something deeper than I have allowed myself to face. Needless to say, I am struggling more this year then I think I have since 2008.

That day just a few short weeks ago a moment was lost with the realization of that fateful day four years ago; life stopped, everything went silent around me, and all the days spent in hospital with my father came crashing down on me like someone had dropped a huge boulder on top of me. I have been in convulsive tears many times this month, his laughter ringing in my head, the last hug I got from him, the words, 'Where's Bubs' when I would be silently sitting next to his hospital bed trying to make myself believe that he was just sick and would go home soon.

I'm angry for so many reasons, most importantly because I can't control these emotions! I'm frustrated because fighting them is like fighting a rubber band--I think I have a grasp on them and suddenly my eyes will well up instantly. Over the last week I've barely slept, I've barely eaten, and have curled up inside of myself just like I did after he died. Why? It's been four years?

April is always an awful month now. He stayed with us over Christmas and New Years, got through his birthday and past Easter...the norm in our family is someone dies right around Christmas. Not him...perhaps it was his will that helped him to get through them because he knew the pain around the holidays. Funny how we rationalize things to fit the perfect image that helps us believe we can in fact control things. Many times I watched my father grieve the loss of a family member around Christmas--he would become very silent; his jolly spirit would be nowhere and he would just stare. Perhaps that is where I get it from...that dislocation from reality..a way to cope.

All I know right now is that I am a wreck of gigantic proportions. That tears have been coming and going since I got home from our sons soccer last night; I slept awful, woke at around 4:20 this morning to the memory of me standing at his feet at that same time four years ago, hanging on to his right foot, tears streaming down my face as nearly my entire family surrounded him and said the rosary. I remember thinking that I needed to stop showing him my raw pain...I knew what was happening but didn't want him to know I knew but I couldn't hide it..he saw my pain, he couldn't speak anymore, but then at the same time I wasn't even sure he was even able to recognize any of us. I so badly wanted to jump on the hospital bed and shake up his jolly..make him say something to egg me on...I so badly wanted to see my dad one last time. 

And now four years later I want it all back...I hear his laughter ringing in my head just like I spoke with him yesterday. Only it's just an echo now. I just don't know why it's been so difficult this year. I am able to cope any other month--think about him often and chuckle about this or that. But this month seems to get harder each year than easier. Perhaps it's fear that I will forget him or such a deep loss that it will always be this way, I don't know.

I've been withdrawn, punchy, quit school for awhile, and am just walking around in the same kind of fog I was four years ago. Yeah, I quit school to find a job because this economy sucks but another reason was because the stress....the confusion and frustration with my inability to push this back and move on like I normally would. Usually on the anniversary I sob one time and then it eases..not this time. I've sobbed a couple times already in the last 24-hours and it's still right in my throat. I've cried at least once a day; lost my ability to breathe normally on some days because it hits me so hard. And when asked how I'm doing with it my immediate response is 'fine'. Exuding strength...that was one of my father's biggest assets and something I watched closely..I wanted to be just like him. He laughed a lot, he had a lot of fun with is own wit and charm and loved to make people laugh. I was always so proud when I could make HIM laugh because I knew I was getting it.

Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm not fine..that I am really looking forward to the 24th of this month coming and going so I can put these feelings to rest for awhile....April is just not a good month. May is just around the corner and maybe then I can resume life as I know it now without him and find that peace that I have learned to cling to. Until then, forgive me for my post, forgive me for the rain if it should fall, forgive me for being a wreck. I really think I need to go fishing or something!

Miss you so much Dad!

Peace for the weary

Well, my father passed away at 9:39 this morning: April 20th, 2008. While it's been a hard couple of weeks with many many tears and a chest weighted with pain, I am doing ok and very relieved and happy for my dad. I led myself to believe all day that my father was in fact wrapping his warmth, love and security around all of us and telling us that he is in a good place, that he is ok. That sun shined down warm and strong with a gentle breeze. Many times I closed my eyes today and raised my face up to the sun and breathed it in, and felt engulfed with love.

I have met a certain peace as has he. There were mumblings among the family members that yesterday there was rain or as the mumblings went, my fathers tears. For all his suffering and inability to say his words to us, it was very hard not to believe that that rain was his tears touching upon us in some way.

Tonight we sat at his and mom's house and looked through pictures and every once in awhile I would look up and seek out his scent, his voice, his breathing and realize that it wasn't there Then I would hang my head and reflect on the last couple of weeks, all the few but very special moments I shared with my dad and blink my tears back and continue on looking at old photos of him in preparation for his new journey in life.

I may very well be in denial at this point but I feel so free, not for me but for him. The last 3 days with him were very painful to see. I hope I didn't make the mistake of not allowing my 9-year old little guy not to see him. I just didn't want him to remember his grandpa that way. The last time he saw his grandpa in the hospital last week, he got the usual, 'how's my Bug-Man', a hug and some small talk. That was only a few days before, none of that was there. My son cried hard when he saw me tonight and buried his face in my shoulder. This little boy never shows me that kind of affection and acts a lot like his grandpa...tall and strong. It just broke my heart to see him so upset and made me question my decisions with all of this. But then I thought about it and thought that his grandpa wouldn't have wanted his little Bug-Man to see him in such a state either. Nor would my father have allowed us in that room if he could have willed the strength to tell us to get the hell out of there.

My dad was a strong man. It's strange talking in the past tense like this. To me he is and always will be a strong man. Not in physical but in mental and emotional. He fought hard, met many hurdles in this life, with all his health issues, conquered some but then lost others and in the end, even though things were happening to him that were not in his control, there was a moment with him that I will never forget.

My brother in Kosovo. It was devastating and surreal to have to get that ball rolling so he could get home in time. The itinerary came in via his wife and I was to deliver this news to our father on Saturday. I tried once but I don't think he heard me as he was focusing too much on other things. I was a little sad by this because whenever my brother's name was mentioned before it always seemed to perk him up. When it didn't....

After a major struggle last night and then the calm after the storm, it was at that time that we said a rosary with him and mom. After that, some special time alone with him before we headed off to bed would be granted to all of us by each other. After awhile I came to see if there was anyone by his bedside. For the first time in 2-weeks, there was no one. He looked so alone and it pained me to see him all alone. I wasn't really ready to say what needed to be said but I forced myself in there.

I spoke to him, said some words. I'm not sure if he heard me or not but continued on because I knew I had to say some things to him. In the midst of it all, I spoke my brother's name. My father responded with the quietest 'yes'. I told him my brother would be arriving on Monday/tomorrow (it was 4:00am this morning). I told him the time, that my brother couldn't wait to see him--he responded 'yes' again and his bottom lip came up...he was trying to speak but was too weak, but man he tried so hard. I told him that it was ok, I understood and he didn't need to waste his energy. I told him that my brother loves him, that my brother's wife loves him...after this, I was quiet and kissed him. Then I began to speak a little more...asked him a yes/no question...there was no response. He had gone back to resting.

I was glad that he heard me, glad that he knew his 'guardian angel' was on his way. Having our brother away has been very hard, talking with his wife has brought so many tears and emotions, text messaging my brother, the pain that has been felt for my brother and his wife has been indescribable. Even now.

My brother boarded his plane at 9:00am this morning our time. When that plane lifted off the ground, I do not know. I will forever believe that my father felt that his son was on his way, that he knew his son was coming home for him. People say that others wait for a special thing before they leave this life. Brother, you are it.

I ache for you but at the same time the love that I saw coming from our father for you is beyond words. A picture of my brother and a picture of my father's dog hung in his hospital room for most of my father's hospital stay. The pride my father would exude when asked who the 'handsome' soldier was that looks just like my father...my dad's reply was always...that's my son, my Guardian Angel. Those two pictures were my dad's guardian angels watching over him. Even now it makes me feel warm inside to write those words.

In the end, I know that sadness will linger deep inside for awhile. But I also know that eventually, time heals all wounds. As I said above, I am relieved for my dad but selfishly sad for myself and my family here in this house. The memories will be forever though and soon enough those memories will be talked about for the rest of my life.

You are so very loved Dad, so very special. May you now rest peacefully. I will forever love you....

Godspeed Dear Man

Pat here, which regular readers will note is unusual and probably not a good sign.

Indeed, Louie's father Vern passed away this morning at around 9:45 a.m. He went very peacefully. There is relief that his recent suffering has come to an end and great sadness that he will no longer bless our lives with his presence.

Vern was a good man. He raised eight kids on a truckers' salary and dressed for work every day of his life, even after retirement. Hell, he even wore work clothes to the golf course.

More than a father-in-law, Vern was my good, good friend. I will miss very much our discussions about politics, sports, music, and life.

Louie is doing well. She said a rosary with her dad and family last night and got to spend a few minutes with him earlier this morning.

She would want me to be sure to thank all of you for keeping her and her dad in your thoughts and prayers these past few weeks and in the days ahead. Thank you.

What a sad discovery

Everyone who knows this blog knows that Pat and I have been together since we were 15/16 years old. So many memories of our younger days. Trips to Taylors Falls, trips to Stillwater, biking miles and miles at all hours of the day and night, camping, hanging out at our friends' farm and getting into trouble, spending hours at the casino, cruising down Central Avenue in his 1971 AAR Baracuda....our first anniversary dinner at Lido's restaurant....and of course going to the movies.

Him and I have always loved movies although we have kind of lost interest with the movie people going all political now. But back in 1985 and 1986 we would go to movies a lot...and when I say a lot, I can't even count how many times.

The reason we did was because there was a theater called Roseville 4. It was the cheapest place around for movies. The theater had really tall seats that were comfortable and rocked so not only did we get in for cheap but it was comfortable. Yeah, we had to wait for months to see a movie we really wanted to see but it was well worth it.

Ticket prices? $1.00...now they are $2.00. Pop, popcorn and candy? If my memory serves correctly it was all 75 cents. It was a great way to spend time together and yes, we actually watched the movies. In fact, to this day, I still have a pile of ticket stubs from the movies we saw. Of course they don't have the title of the movies on it but I saved them...the romantic in me saved all sorts of little things from our dating days.

I remember my friend and I went there with our cups full of coke and a splash of windsor..she reads this blog, she would remember. We went to see Poltergeist 3 I think. We upset some of the patrons there with our giggles and wound up walking out of the theater. We just found the movie a bit too boring for our frame of mind and wound up walking out. I don't remember of course what we went out and did but all the same, just one more memory from that theater.

I read today, that tomorrow will be the last day that Roseville 4 will be open for business. This is really sad and closes yet another chapter in my life. Rambo is showing there tomorrow, I would assume that it's the newer version???? Ironically, Pat and I saw Rambo First Blood in that theater but try as I might to get him to go say fare-thee-well to a blip in our life, he will not go. Me being the sentimental one is of course tearing up with this revelation...yea, I'm a sap, I hang on to things such as this, but in the end, the whole time I've been writing this I've been reminiscing and smiling to myself at all that was created in this life with my husband.

Ahhh, fishing

In the midst of all the chaos, we have had some moments of down time. And in those moments few and far between we have managed to squeeze in some time to do what has quickly become a nightly thing. Or at least as 'nightly' as it can be.

Fishing.........need I say more? But of course.

It's been quite a year so far. We only just started heading out a couple weeks ago. It's cheap, outdoors, and extremely relaxing. And with the past few months and all the stress that's been circulating around, I beg to go fishing right now.

So, our usual fishing spot is where it all began--the place where we had so much fun last year. We went there with worms the first time and it was so choked with weeds that we became quite discouraged of what may be for the year. We did head out with our friends on their boat one evening before our first venture to the shore and that proved to be a pretty bleak fishing adventure for myself while everyone else around me were pulling in sunnies and of course the northern that got away. And this excursion was on this same lake in the same area that we shore fish from. One would think that if we had an opportunity to head out on a lake in a boat that we would demand to go to timbuktu and back but no, Pat and I raved about our little cove. Silly us.

So, we went out on the shore line and the weeds were so horrible that we stayed away until just about 2 weeks ago. We went back and the weeds were nearly gone. We were pulling in sunnies as usual and then our son hooked into what we thought was a lunker. Guess what...it was a bullhead. And it was the biggest bullhead I've seen in my life. And frankly, bullheads are my least favorite catch of the day.

Well, anyway, Pat and I started catching the bullheads too and they were all good size. I've heard they're good to eat but number one, they don't die and number two, they have stingers--or so I'm told. Not once have I EVER touched a bullhead. I think I hate them so much because my brothers scared me when I was younger...hmm, a story that I'll have to write about.

I decided that enough was enough and moved down the shore to a little less weedy area even though the weeds were still lurking there. I casted way out deep past the weeds and waited. Bloop, bobber gone and I yank and wow. To my great delight I had a whopper on the other end. I thought perhaps it was a northern or something. I was hoping to see it fly out of the water in that graceful way that a bass would but it never did.

I got it to the shore and saw neon green, a black spot inside a yellow circle on either side of it's tail and a head that looked prehistoric. That was how I described it to Pat; prehistoric. I thought perhaps a lake trout of some sort--oh, it was about a foot and a half long and weighed anywhere from 2-4 pounds maybe? But yeah, Pat, our son and myself stood there just staring at this thing trying to figure out what it was as it flapped away with my hook deeply imbedded in it's mouth. It was kinda ugly. And the guess' we were coming up with...at one point I said that maybe it was a dogfish. Never seen one or heard one described but since we were guessing. Oh, it had teeth too. Ugly cuss it was.

So we rush home to find out that it was a 'bowfin' or in other words, a dogfish. Hmmmm, lucky guess.

So, this past weekend, we had nothing to do all weekend. The first time since May that we've had nothing to wake up to or plan for. And my selfish side wouldn't allow anyone to intrude on that because honestly, Pat and I are exhausted from all that's been going on! What did we do? Well of course we spent much of it on the prowl for good shore fishing.

Ultimately we ended up at what we now call, our spot. We fished in our spot for awhile but caught one bullhead and said...no more, lets move. It's a little peninsula and one can walk all the way around the point and fish on the east side or the west side.

We chose to fish on the west side on Saturday. I MADE Pat stop so I could get me some crappie minnows. Worms are icky, leeches, well, they aren't so bad but I think bullhead for some dumb reason but minnows, I think northern, bass, crappie...whoppers! hehe

We fished for awhile, caught some sunnies and crappies and I even caught a baby walley. At around 8:25 that evening my world changed. I was hooking into all kinds of fish earlier then this and had found my new spot for the night. I had Pat on one side of me and our son on the other and neither of them were catching nearly as much. Then wham...I hooked something large and it fought a good fight. I got it up to shore and it was about a 2-3 pound bass. Beautiful although it looked a little albino. Not sure why.

After my excitement of that, I threw on another minnow, casted out and wham, another big one...another bass, this one about 1-2 pounds and again, a little albino...Hubby and my boy were perplexed, they were a mere 5-7 feet from my line and nothing!!! I of course was laughing inside and yes, gloating. How could I not. All year my luck had been strange and lacking. Well, anyway, I threw on another minnow and casted out to my spot and wham...ANOTHER big fish. Holy cow, that was just too much in one night. I got it to shore and lo and behold, another nice size bass. This one about 1-1 1/2 pounds.

I did feel bad for the boys, they were both looking a little mopey and frustrated. It was time for us to leave, sadly. It seems that each night about the same time the fish start hitting and then we have to leave. I hate that.

Last night though it was our son's and Pat's turn. They were dragging in bass like crazy, crappie, and our boy was so excited I could feel his butterflies in my stomach as he dragged in a lunker....another bowfin. He was giggling and grunting and was nearly getting pulled into the lake with this fish. Man, can those things put up a good fight and he got to experience it...but it got to the point where the poor kid couldn't reel in. It was to much for him and he handed the rod to Pat.

Oddly, I felt some relief that they had a great night fishing last night. I was a little saddened that I didn't catch more then some good size crappies and sunfish. The thrill of the fight is something that I ache for when I fish.

But the point of this post isn't really the sport of fishing, it's about something else.

I moved away from the boys after my luck in their spot was proving fishless for me. But not because I was frustrated but because I had an urge.

At around 8:30 at night is when the sun turns into that deep orange-red color and you can nearly look at it with the naked eye. Last night there were long clouds streaking through the sky. My urge was to watch the sun set. Questions about what my favorite would be between sunrise and sunset would be hard for me to answer.

The joy of fising for me is just that...sunrise, sunset, the peacefullness on the still water as the loons chatter back and forth in the wee hours of the morning, and the peacefullness that settles on the lake as darkness approaches. How many sunrises and sunsets have I sat and enjoyed with my husband without really even realizing that I'm doing it? How many times have I thought about it the way I did last night, that fishing offers both of these in such a quiet way, the orange glow on the still water in the morning and the orange glow rippling across the water at night...God, there is just nothing more beautiful to me.

I looked over the water and as I did so I said to Pat, "gee honey, it's kind of nice that we get to see the sunset nearly everytime we go fishing". I don't think either one of us looked at it in that perspective before. And add to that that we have our children with us, mostly our son and thinking about what sort of memories these moments might create...life can suck but it's those natural little things that make it so worth it.

WHY???? (sorry, I just have to get this off my chest)

In seconds my day went from good to tragic. I was reading through the headlines, glanced at one that said "one dead 21 injured on VA Campus" and scrolled down. Not more than 30 seconds later, the local news on the television flashed on and that number of dead changed from 1 to 22. I refreshed the news site on the internet and so went the rest of the day.

I cannot imagine the pain these students and families are enduring at this time. The anger. The questions.

I have watched many hours of this incident on the television seeking answers like I would bet most of America has done.

The blame that is going on is only just beginning. And I too wondered why that entire campus wasn't put on lockdown until they had this gunman? But in listening to interviews with students, cops, the campus officials I cannot blame them. They shut down the first building. Yet with bomb threats on the school within the last two weeks, the incident on the first day of school? How could they not practice more caution.

They did what they thought was right, safe, and to the best of their judgement. To blame those in charge is like blaming Bush for Katrina. No one can read minds or predict, they can only do what they think is right. I feel for the campus authority in this as well because they are going to be scrutinized and raked through the coals like crazy.

Yet, had they done that, people would have complained too.

Then I sit here and think about the war, how just yesterday our local papers had an article about how 50 military men and women have been killed in this war--from the state of Minnesota. Soldiers barely out of high school...look at what happened in less then 3 hours on our own American soil.

Crime that goes on daily in this country, deaths of minor children, teenagers, young adults, adults. I cannot help that I thought about this war, it just happened that way. All the protesting that goes on and the hate that it's has caused but here in America, there is a daily war, a silent war, yet no one takes the time to look at that.

Perhaps that's why the number thing bothers me so damn much. 50 Minnesotans killed in 4 years vs. 32 college students killed in 3+ hours. Or perhaps its the fact that people have questioned mine and P's 'decision' to 'let our daughter' join the military, being told that she would be safer here at home in a college in our state.

I beg to differ.

No one knows where or when a loony is going to open fire or go balistic, this is just proof like Columbine or 9/11 or the Amish shooting, or the Red Lake shootings...this guy was sick. Very sick.

The many things that go through my mind when tragedy strikes are overwhelming. I must vent and get it off my chest otherwise my day will be filled with negative thoughts, frustration, anger, sadness.

Keep the parents, siblings, extended family, friends and all of those directly involved with this tragedy in your prayers!

In one day, a lifetime has passed before my eyes...

I have been sitting on this post for a week now. Pictured here is our oldest daughter, who I have never posted a photo of for more than 24 hours. However, in this case, I cannot resist that urge. I am just way to proud of her for words! And she looks so cute. :)

Isn't she short??? LOL Yes, today she passed her physical and is now enlisted in the Minnesota National Guard as Private First Class.

This was a long process and I have hinted about this in previous posts but didn't want to make it official until this very moment.

My beloved brother, Sgt. Major has been a God send making this process a lot easier and less stressful than I think it would be for many others and I want to publically thank him for all of his hard work, his service to this country, and tell him that I love him more than he knows. Thank you so much for EVERYTHING Bro!

So last week, the final paperwork was signed and completed. We have been anticipating this day for the last week more seriously, and it came. She left here at 8:45 pm last night to spend the night at the hotel. She hated the pillows, slept for only a couple hours only to be woken up at 4:30am to endure the next 7 hours of a physical and the final processing.

This hasn't been bothering me all that much, I am so very proud of her, and it has been to me, like just a next step in her life that I am here to support, and accept. But last night, when I hugged her good bye, my eyes welled up with tears just out of the blue. My little blue-eyed baby was no longer a baby and the reality of it all hit like a semi. But those tears were quickly ebbed by questions from Pat and the recruiter here to pick her up...thank God.

I slept quite well, my brother woke me up with a phone call at 7:45 this morning, asking if I had slept ok. I said, 'like a rock'! We shared a few words, me in my stupor and I don't even remember the conversation and the wait began for all of us! The phone was ringing off the hook all morning and each time it did I had hoped it would be our daughter...she was supposed to call the MINUTE she found out if she passed her physical. At that time, I had many phone calls to make to let others know because there would be many who were going to be at her swearing in.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. 10:00, 10:15, 10:20, man it was like watching a pot of water begin to boil...By 11:05 I was getting very frustrated and impatient! Yelling at my phone...calling Pat...pacing...biting my nails...messing with my hair...and then finally at about 11:25 she called. And obviously she passed her physical.

Hurrying to get out the door and to Pat's place of employment...guess what, here comes the panic attacks while I'm driving. I had to pull over twice during the 20 minute drive. Where was this coming from I kept asking myself. The answer of course is very obvious but it hadn't been a problem the days leading up to today?! I just wanted to get to our daughter and hug the shit out of her! And it seemed like everything was in the way of that.

Longer story short, I made it to Pat's work, we drove to Fort Snelling and waited some more. Until 2:00 to be exact before the event was to take place. Nothing big really but for us, it is a big deal. It's a big step for our little girl!

At about 1:30, I pulled her out of the room to have a chat though. I had to ask her if this is really what she wanted to do for herself. To make sure she wasn't doing it to make us or others proud, or because she felt that this was her only window. She smiled at me and said, 'Mom, you're going to cry'! I said, "No, I'm not, I just really want you to be doing this for you and nobody else and to know that this is not what anyone expects of you." My eyes were starting to sting but I refrained. She swore that she wouldn't do this for anyone but herself and she's wanted this for years while looking me square in the eye with nary a smirk. I knew she was telling me the truth.

During the swearing in, my anxiety and panic collided once again and I had to squat down for fear of passing out while she was being sworn in. It was a small room with 13 of our family members and 5 recruits being sworn in and if you all recall, I am very claustrophobic and simply put, a nervous ninny.

Man was I irritated with myself. My heart swelled with pride for her and those others being recruited today. And the oath, what I did hear of it while struggling to overcome that stupid anxiety/panic crap, only the strong in heart, mind and soul would give themselves like this!

The day has now turned to darkness and our girl is off with her boyfriend kicking his butt in a few games of bowling. She's growing up...cannot stop the act of growing up now can we! It's most amazing all those who would question our parenting in this situation, who cannot believe that we would LET our daughter make this choice. She's nearly 18-years old, when are kids no longer kids? I will ask, if there were no war going on right now, would they care? Isn't going to college just as big of a choice, and just as big of an allowance for many parents? And last but not least, how can another question the love and belief a person feels for their country, or their freedom and the act of defending that belief? If you want and believe in something bad enough, doesn't it only make sense to support that decision and to go after it?

Thank you to all of you who stood by while our daughter took probably one of the first biggest steps of her adult life. Your presence there will never be forgotten! Oh, and Bro, that smile on your face after the swearing in? I don't know who was more proud, you or us! LOL But I will never, ever, for as long as I live, forget that priceless smile on your face!

Congratulations to you my first daughter! You have proven to me that you are growing up, that we have to let you go and have faith in our parenting of you all these years, and mostly, you have proven that you are one hell of a woman!

A Dark Day December 17th 2001 part II

As I said the rumors flying around about this 'terrible' woman who killed this little boy we unbelievable. I was so angry that so many adults were hopping on board and not explaining the safety issues that this boy had ignored, that adults were just so quick to point a finger. It took me a long time to understand that if one doesn't see what truly happened that it's just easier to point the finger at the adult who wronged this poor boy. But I was sure to stand behind this woman with whomever it was that I may have encountered that immediately wanted to cast her to hell.

That included my own sister. I have spoken about a particular family member whom I want nothing to do with. It is my sister who I find to be a very evil person. One who jumps to conclusions before she really knows what the story is.

About 2 weeks after the accident occured and things were settling down with my daughter, I went to run errands. I came home only to find my kids upset and Pat extremely upset. My sister had come to the house about this accident. She had a petition that she wanted Pat and I to sign. A petition for a crosswalk and stoplights in this area where the boy was hit.

Pat being one to be very careful about the things he puts his name on began to ask her questions. You see, this road that the boy was killed on is deemed one of the most dangerous roads in Minnesota with many losing their lives on it. Him and I don't believe that children should be on that road in the walking capacity period. So, my sister proceeded to get heated and Pat began telling her that I was there, that I was one of the key witness' to this accident and that this woman did nothing wrong.

That was the wrong thing for him to say. My sister flew off the handle in my home in front of my kids and started spewing venom. She wanted to know what I was doing there in the first place and said that I didn't know what I had seen and that I was lying. She said that this woman could go to hell and that a busload of children was more accurate in their description than I was. She said that this woman was speeding, that she was talking on her cell phone and that she wasn't paying attention.

Pat defended me and this woman as well as the multitude of adult witness' who had given a statement and a newspaper who had said that this woman did nothing wrong and there would be no charges filed period. My sister would have none of it, she was right, and she knew exactly what she was talking about. She said this woman should fry and that she deserved all the hell that she would have to live with. She even told me that she would feel the same way if it were her own mom or myself that had hit this child.

Ultimately, Pat told her to leave our house and they were calling eachother names and yelling rather loudly as he followed her out the door down to her car.

I cannot bore you all with all of what has transpired with this boy's death but I can tell you this, my family believes that I am a liar, and numerous other rumors that my 'lovely' sister has proceeded to spread about us.

This has caused a lot of friction with my mom and I as my mom believes her. And my own mom has told me that I will go to hell for lying, my other sisters believe her and this is not the first time she has alienated a family member. In the years following this accident, Pat and I have avoided my family. I have not gone to family functions, my sister has chosen to approach our daughters and attempt to say nasty things to them about their father, she had involved our kids as we have really tried to keep the kids out of it. She doesn't want our daughters talking to her son at school and says that if she finds out they are talking she will get a restraining order on our kids. It's really a mess and there is so much that is not being included in this.

Today, we are having a family gathering with my entire family except for one very fortunate brother who will have to miss this event. Lucky guy. Although, it was said to us that this is strictly for my mom and my dad and that is what Pat and I are keeping our focus on we can't help but think that some secretly hope that we will be one big happy family. Both him and I are extremely stressed about this day. As is one other brother whom my sister has done her 'good deeds' on. Him and I have vowed to stick together today and avoid any sort of contact with 'witch' as she was so aptly nicknamed as a child.

With all the arguments that I have had with my mom, all the family members spreading horrible rumors around we feel as though we are setting ourselves up for another round. Stupid but my father is getting old, he isn't able to walk very well, he has blindness in one eye and he simply wants to see his family together again in one room. How could we say no. I adore my dad, I love my mom and feel as though that she has just been caught like a fly in a spider web in all the nastiness that is my 'family'. She is an unsuspecting victim but at the same time should be able to control that.

Lies and deciet. Just makes me want to cry!

A dark day December 17, 2001 part I

Most of my posts I have tried to keep lighthearted and more on the positive side due to my desire to not be one of those negative, life sucks sort of person. Today I will break that streak because my stomach is just one big ball of anxiety and stress.

About 4 years ago yesterday my daughter and I witnessed an ugly thing. I went to the school to pick her and her friend up because there was an event they had to attend a little later. I worked a few miles from her school. On our way back to where I worked, traffic was moving at a snails pace in our lane, buses were everywhere and kids were walking along the trail next to the road.

As we were creeping along, there were a couple of boys that had left the trail and started towards the road. Laughing and shoving eachother they kept getting closer to the road and proceeded to walk into our lane of traffic without even so much as a look at the line of cars. The one came out in front of another car that was directly behind a bus while the other did this but quickly went back to the shoulder. The one who had come into the road had no regard for the traffic, as if he thought that the cars would see him and automatically stopped which they did.

However, one last look back at his friend, a smile and a wave off to his other friend and this kid took off towards the other side of the road. Remember now that he was directly behind that bus. I looked at the lane of oncoming traffic and there were a line of cars coming but there was just no way this kid had seen that because he was completely oblivious to the large objects that surrounded him. I was two cars behind that bus. He got roughly 3 running steps out into the lane of oncoming traffic and WHAM! The car hit him square on at a good speed and launched him a good 40 feet and he landed in the ditch. He was on the other side directly lined up with my drivers side door. His shoe landed roughly 80 feet from the point of impact after his body hit the ground.

Now, the cars in front of me continued to go, I wanted to go so badly because I have anxiety while driving as it is and my heart was hurting it was beating so hard. I sat there a moment and said, "Oh my God" while my daughter and her friend said the same almost in unison. I had to pull over, I had to make sure he was ok. I had first aid training, I knew CPR, I had to go.

I pulled to the side of the road and demanded that my daughter and her friend stay! I didn't want them to see this poor boy. I leapt out of my van and my focus was getting to this child whose friend was already there on his knees trying to wake him. I had tunnel vision while running across that road and almost got myself hit by another car. I remember standing in the middle of the oncoming traffic lane and holding up my hand at this car and being in shock because I couldn't believe that no one else had pulled over to help!

I reached this boy and saw him and knew that he was dying. All my functions and abilities to help suddenly were blank in my head. I couldn't remember anything, I just squatted down next to this kid and rubbed his head. He wasn't breathing and his poor little friend was trying desparately to wake him up. I told him not to move him at all in case he had a neck injury. I tried to pull the boy away and send him some feet away because he had seen it from moment one.

Another man came and him and I tried to figure out what to do. He knew CPR but there was shallow breathing so that wasn't necessary. The man wanted to roll him onto his back but I freaked because you never move an injured victim unless there is support for his neck.

I was absolutely no help what so ever. I couldn't touch him, he had blood coming from his ears, his nose, and his mouth and I couldn't....I felt so useless and wondered what I was doing there. Then a woman showed up and asked what needed to be done and we explained that we wanted to move him and that his head needed to be stable. She bent down and put her hands underneath his head and we proceeded to gently roll him to his back. I laid my jacket on him to keep him warm but knew that there was nothing more that we could do. He had too many internal injuries and a head injury that we were not capable of fixing.

As I stood there, I was talking to a woman. A woman who was in her early to mid 50's. We were talking about how the poor driver of this car had simply had no time to react and she looked at me and said, "I'm the one who hit him". I embraced her so tightly and told her that it wasn't her fault, there was no time for her to even react because he darted out almost immediately on her bumper. She was on her way home from work in the cities and she still had a good 40 minutes to drive to get home. She was in shock. She was numb. She was blankly watching all the hubbub around this boy. I felt so bad for both of them, this was an accident and made me realize just how immortal children think they are.

I had to give my witness report to the trooper and waited for a long time to do this it seemed but once the cops arrived and the ambulance we were all told to go wait in our vehicles. I went back to my van and my daughter and her friend were in shock, shaking, and very sad. There was a school bus pulled over behind me and a couple of other vehicles. The school bus was full of children of course.

As I sat there, a woman walked up to the van and her and I began to talk. She worked at the school. At one point, she held up her hands and wondered if I might know where she could get a rag to wipe off her hands. She was the one who had been holding this boys head. I had wipes in my van and helped her to clean up with shaking hands. We discussed the accident and all the adults who had seen what happened agreed that this child was not using his head, wasn't using a crosswalk and this poor unsuspecting woman would have to live with this for the rest of her life. It was just sad all around.

The cops made me pull my van to a side road to get off the busy road, and finally I was able to give my statement. The trooper reiterated that there was nothing this woman could do, that the boy was most likely in the wrong and that this boy had done a stupid thing that would ultimately end his life.

The boy died 2 days later after they took him off life support. He was really messed up. Grief counselors were aplenty at the middle school, and ugly rumors were flying around about this woman who had killed their friend. My focus was not on myself at the time, I hadn't cried or dealt with my emotions at all because I was so worried about my daughter and her friend seeing such a horrible thing and then having to go to school and be surrounded by more grief. I picked her up early on the first day after the accident and her and I talked alot during school hours the next couple of days--she would call me to see how I was doing. It was like a morgue in that school building for about a week.

That is when things got really ugly in our house...

The Day that Changed us Forever...PART II

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

While we were fighting to keep our family together and faced the horrible feelings that we had no control over this situation, we were surrounded by family and friends around the clock. They were all disgusted, angry, frustrated, confused and could do nothing to ease the pain that Pat and I were going through. Him and I were constantly crying, shaking inside, and just plain helpless.

When we got to the hospital, our daughter had to lay in a cold room for roughly 8 hours being regularly dosed with demoral for her pain. They couldn't put a cast on her because of the swelling but they also couldn't put her in a more comfortable room because there weren't any available. This pained us because we could do nothing to help her. Nor ourselves.

While she was in this room, the hospital social worker came in and so began the whole story. In between questions, hubby and I were placing calls to family. We had our 6 month old baby who was tired and there was no where for her to sleep and we weren't about to leave our oldest alone in the hospital...my parents offered to keep our baby for as long as need be. Thanks mom and dad!

Pat and I understood the concern that the social workers had and do appreciate that they are looking out for the child. However, in this case, the worker we had refused to do anything because the weekend was upon us. She wouldn't listen to the pediatrician, she wouldn't listen to family, she firmly believed that I broke my daughters leg and she was going to find out how I did it.

With her second birthday just days away and a foster home secured for our daughter, it was important for me to have a party for her at the hospital because Pat and I had no idea when we may see her again. We only knew that we were not allowed to know where she would be or for how long. They wouldn't give us any answers. They refused to put her in the care of the grandparents, they refused all of it. But we went ahead with the party.

Her room was so full of family and friends that they were standing in the hallway of the hospital. All Pat and I could do was cry. People around us were crying and no one could understand why this social worker was so hell bent on taking our daughter. The party was more like a funeral than anything. This occured on a Friday night. They were going to put her in a foster home at 7:00 Saturday morning.

I don't know how many times I was questioned, I don't know how many winks of sleep I got but I do know that every single nurse that tended to our daughter did not believe that either my husband or myself had hurt that little girl. And they said they had seen a lot and that there was no way that we would hurt that little girl. They said that we showed that little girl more love....

At about 6:30 am on Saturday morning, Pat and I were hovering around our daughter's bed crying and saying nothing. The phone rang. It was the social worker for the state. She said that she hadn't slept much the night before because she felt like she was making a mistake with this case. She had requested that our daughter be moved to Pat's parents house. We were allowed to be there but couldn't be alone with her at all. She was to stay there until the investigation was done which she didn't know how long that would be.

Pat and I were overjoyed! Our baby wasn't going into the arms of a stranger and we were able to know where she would be AND to stay there. We cried, laughed, and phoned his mom immediately.
A showing of our home was requested by the social worker for the day after our daughter's birthday. We were more than happy to oblige.

During the showing, I was with the worker and Pat was with the cop who accompanied her. Once she saw the room, her and I went upstairs and sat and talked. She asked if I had any photos of our daughter. I pulled out 2 photo albums of our oldest and one of our youngest, all of them full of about 300 photos of each kid. She paged through them both, looked me in the eye and said, "I made a really big mistake, there is no abuse in this home! I don't know what I was thinking." She said that we could bring our daughter home and didn't need to be supervised any longer.

Of course this may sound like a happy ending but in reality, it took 6 more weeks for them to make 2 minute phone call to tell us that they have decided that there was no abuse. We could live our life. And the emotional scars this has left are irreparable.

There are some burning questions that will always be unanswered for us. We saw an x-ray of the leg. A spiral fracture is a twisted bone, her leg had a clean break, diagnal with no twist. When we asked the bone specialist how it was considered a spiral when it was a clean break, his reply was "they're the same thing" and snubbed us.

How did she break her leg? We think maybe she may have fallen off of the ledge in her bedroom? We would like to get her hypnotised some day to find out.

Why is it when I asked the cop why he flat out told me I hurt this child he said that I was so emotionally screwed up and crying so much that I don't remember things right? That I was just making that up.

Why was it that while we were being raked through the coals, a 17-month old baby was kicked to death and down a flight of stairs by a woman's boyfriend and this occurred AFTER the social services placed the child back in the home? Why are children constantly placed back into dangerous situations yet our home nor our past never had a single blemish and we were treated like common criminals?

I can grant room for errors in judgement. I haven't nor will I ever forget this. There are times when I will have a moment where I will refuse to take one of my children to the doctor out of fear that I will be interrogated for a bruise. Or one of my kids will get a leg stuck in a chair and pretend they are hurt and I begin to shake and cry and can't breathe. Innocent until proven guilty...in this case, we were not granted that right.

How did this change us into Conservative/Republican? Well, it made us very aware of government control, very aware of where we are on the food chain in this world. How aggressive the government is. It made us more aware as parents and made us grow up quickly. It made us realize that there is a BIG difference between privelage and right. Having children is a privelage, not a right, loving those children and raising those children is our privelage and teaching them morals, values and respect is our job. That at any given moment, someone can come and take our wee ones out from under our wing without even a whisper.

That it changed our political views may not make sense to some but for us, this began our change.

Written by louie0768 .

The Day that Changed us Forever-PART I

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

It was October 1991 that our life changed. A pretty horrible thing happened that changed Patrick and myself forever. Probably turned us into the Republican leaning conservatives that we are now. Believe it or not we used to be very liberal and Democrat to boot.

A lot of what happened during these 6 weeks of our lives is a blur but much of it is crystal clear. Moments that we cannot erase from our minds' eyes.

Our oldest daughter at the time was 1 3/4 years old, due to turn 2 in just a few days. Our second daughter was 6 months old. The day was great. At the time, I stayed at home with both girls because I whole heartedly believed that as a mother, that was my duty. I still believe that.

On this particular day, nothing was much different. Pat went to work, I played and danced with my older girl, gave her a bath, and put her down for a nap, and then wound up falling asleep on the upper floor of our split-level twin home with our 6 month old. I was woke up at about 3:25 by the phone and it just happened to be my hubby calling to say hi.

I had told him that I heard the older one playing in her room that I was going to go out and have a quick cigarette in the garage and get her up. The baby was still asleep so no big deal. While having my smoke, I heard my older one crying. I got off the phone with Pat, put out my smoke and went to her room.

There she was, standing there with her right leg lifted hanging on to her mattress' and a nightstand, crying. Not hard, just in between a whimper and a light cry. I asked her to walk to me but she shook her head no and said "Owwwiee".

So I walked over to her, picked her up, layed her on the bed and took off her pants to look at her leg and noticed nothing. I began moving it, rubbing it, all the while she laid there whimpering.

At the time, I hadn't a clue what could have been wrong with her leg except that maybe it had a cramp in it or something.

I left to call Pat back and came back and noticed a slight swelling in the thigh area. Pat told me to put ice on it and to keep an eye. I hung up with him, and got some ice and when I came back, the leg was twice as big as when I left.

Something was horribly wrong...I called Pat back and told him that he needed to come home so we could take her to urgent care. We only had one vehicle at the time. He thought thatI was over reacting but said he would get home as soon as he could get off work.

I called and made an appointment and waited for what seemed like hours but was really only about 45 minutes.

Our daughter whimpered here and there on the way but nothing too alarming. We arrived at the office still clueless as to what was wrong. The nurse looked at her leg, the doctor requested x-rays and once those x-rays came back, Pat and I were treated terribly. The nurse was nasty to us, the doc told the nurse to tell us to get her to Children's Hospital because she had a spiral fracture of the femur. The largest bone in the body was broken.

With the way that we were treated, a horrible thought occured to me on the way to the hospital. I was crying already because my baby was seriously hurt, I felt like a horrible mother, didn't know what had happened to her to cause such a serious injury, and hated myself for not getting her up before having the dreadful cigarette.

In the car on the way to the hospital, I looked back at my daughter and through tears told Pat, "They're going to say that I did this, that I broke her leg". He tried to assure me that there was no way but I was not convinced, I had a very uneasy feeling about all of it.

To make 6 weeks worth of a hell story short: Yes, they did try to blame me. They wanted to put me in jail, they put a 72 hour hold on our oldest daughter and said she was no longer our daughter, she was their baby, and they were trying to get custody of our baby too. I had cops trying to coerce me into a confession and at a point, the badgering was so bad that I just wanted to say that I did it so they would STOP!!!

They did a complete skeletal exam on her and found no previous injuries, they checked her over for bruises and found a few on her shin which were pretty typical for a toddler and one on her forehead that I had no idea about.

Our pediatrician wrote a letter stating that in no way had we abused this little girl, that we love both of our children and the state was making a big mistake which the social worker and police wouldn't even listen to our pediatrician.

We had a lawyer telling us not to say a thing and a social worker saying that our silence spoke volumns about our guilt. I was told that I would burn in hell for lying, that because I was a young mother with 2 young kids that I lost my temper and broke her leg accidently.

I was given all sorts of madeup scenarios in which I may have broken her leg, examples that cops said they did to their own kids. All of this in the 2 days that we were in the hospital. They even tried to blame Pat, who was at work when this happened and had witness' whom the cops said were covering for him.

To be continued.....

Written by louie0768 .