What A Year Can Teach Us

Photos from left to right: June - Disney World; June - Ethan's 5th bday; August - First Day of Kindergarden; November - Ethan's 2nd Soccer Game

One of the things I like to do is to sit back and reflect on what the year brought me, taught me and what I took from it. I know allot of people don't do this and I am sure there are people out there that can't wait for this year to pass without even wanting to look back. And yes I've had those years where I can't wait for one to end and hope that the other brings me something better than what I had; but, I've always sat down and reflected on the past. I do this for one main reason - without reflection history is bound to repeat its self and the choices or course of action that made it a bad year might repeat itself too. It's a fact; you have to take what you learned from your mistakes and gathered from your wise choices to help make better choices in the future. It's something I wish more people would do. 

2011 brought me a lot of things. Some things that are worth sharing and some that are not. I learned this year that people can be closed minded and no matter what you tell them - it's always their way. They don't want to be open to idea of letting new people or ideas into their lives. It's sad to think that in this world there a lot of good people and/or ideas and yet some people are so trapped inside their own ideas and thoughts on matters that they never open up and allow these other great people and/or ideas into their lives. I'm not one of these people. I try to see the good in everyone - even those that it might be hard to see past what other people can't. I look deep inside myself to understand people or their thoughts and the reason they are the way they are. The common man (everyone for that matter) is a product of their situations. I like to call it the cause and effect theory. If someone's father lost all their money in the stock market the effect might make the father leary of any type of investment and might even trickle down to the father's children if there is enough talk in the household about it. Everything is life is cause and effect and this is why reflecting back on things is helpful. It keeps random fears from taking over our lives. So as I enter into 2012 I will still try to see the good in all people and be open to their thoughts and ideas; however, I just might be more open to share with those that are closed minded how they need to be more open or show the other side of the coin they refuse to look at.  

I also learned that even with some time that has past there will still be milestones in Ethan's life that will break my heart and bring me joy all at the same time. There will be moments where my heart swells with pride and yet breaks with a sadness that will remain with me for the rest of my years. And while this sadness might lighten as the years past it will always sit in the corner of my heart where my fond memories of the one I love(d) sits. I'm also blessed to have people in life who understand this and embrace it rather than run from it or chastise it. It truly does make me feel blessed. 

I watched this year as friends got divorced, dated, broke up, got remarried and yet through all of this found what makes them happy. I was one of those people too who looked inside myself and found what makes me happy. I found in life that sometimes those around us that help us grow as people are the best friends we could ever ask for. It's the people that challenge us to be better people, mothers, fathers, coworkers, forward thinkers and better friends to those around us that are the strongest and loving people in our lives. It's the people that love and care about you from the inside out and who accept every facet of our lives that are the best people we could surround ourselves with. (I'm so glad to have all those people in my life.) 

This year has brought me challenges as a mom and having Ethan in school, faith classes, play therapy and soccer. Balancing time has become something I'm rather good at it and while it took some creative thinking at times to make it all work (and sometimes it didn't work at all) - BUT I did it. I had to make choices so that I could be there for my muppet when I think he needed me the most and worked on letting go of somethings so he could grow one day it to a better and stronger man who doesn't let fear rule his life. It's a struggle that all parents go through and I had to face these challenges head on this year while also confronting my own fears on the subject. However, Ethan and I are both stronger for it and I'm proud of the strives that both of us have made in our respective areas. (Have I said lately how much I love my muppet?)

This next year I have a plan that I have been working on for the last few months. It's a plan that will start on the new year and one that I hope brings more growth to my life. I want to run more and become faster at the 5k I do every September (my goal will by 25-30 min 5k this year). I want to focus more on my art and becoming a better artist and boss to my coworkers (so happy to open my new art books I got this Christmas from my parents!). The plan is to share more of my life with those around me and let them know what they mean to me (this especially goes for my neighbors and good friends - I can't wait for Corpus 2012!). I want to share with Ethan the beauty that is around us and how life isn't about "Angry Birds" or "Thomas the Train" - it's about experiencing what life has to offer us and the beauty of nature around us (Go family vacation 2012!). Then I want to do somethings for myself. I've always put Ethan above all else and he always be my first priority in life (and he will still be my first priority in life), but I understand needing to do things for myself and bettering my self; because in the end bettering myself helps better Ethan's life too (Yeah more Mommy time). 

I hope everyone out there can reflect on their 2011 and look forward to their 2012. Not just because it's a new year, but a new start to everything. It's never to late to change the way you think about things that happen in your life. It's never too late to change the way you think and process the events that happen during the past and upcoming year. It's all just a state of mind that takes the biggest step to say I want this to be my year because _____(insert your dreams here)______. Pax and Happy New Year.

A Praline Christmas Story

So I know I haven't blogged in forever, but it's not for a lack of me trying. Ethan's in soccer, faith classes and other assorted things that I'm not always sure if I'm coming or going (but man does the North Dallas Tollway get their fair share of me). One of my resolutions is to blog more. More about Ethan and what he's doing and just things that are going on in ourlives that's fun and exciting. My goal is once a week, but we will see how that one goes between soccer, faith classes and the other assorted things Ethan does.

However, I wanted to take some time and slow things down a bit and share with my readers my version of a Christmas story and what Christmas means to me. Each year I make pralines for my friends, family and neighbors - 30-35 batches a year (although I think I might have made 40 this year - there is no telling) and I like to joke with people that I make these ever-so-tasty goodies because I don't eat pralines; ergo I don't have to worry about any unwanted extra pounds that come from taste testing these little Christmas goodies. Smart huh (don't you wish you had thought of that (insert evil little grin))?!?

But to be honest that's not 100% of why I make them; in fact it's only 1%. So why do I make these little candy cookies that take an hour to make and only yield 12-14 a batch - sounds like way too much work for something people just ingest right? Well for me it doesn't matter if I slave over the stove or sing gleefully over it. What matters to me is what those twelve little cookies mean to me.
(Insert fade to flash-back) I consider my hometown New Orleans. And yes, while I only lived there the first 3 years of my life; it's where my grandparents lived and visited often and every corner of my mind is filled with sweet memories of them, their stories and great times. My grandparents were the kind of people who would slave over a stove for days making tasty red beans and rice or fried egg plant and stocked the freezer full of ice cream if they knew you were coming and liked it. It was their way of saying - I'm glad you're here.

Ten days after Christopher passed; my grandmother passed away too. To say it was a low point in my life is an understatement of epic proportions. It was at that point that God and I had a little conversation where I did most of the talking and while I explained I wasn't renouncing him or my faith in him, I just didn't agree with his choices or plan. My life was crushed...and just a few short months before the holiday season was about to be upon us. What was I going to do? How was I going to handle it? And how do I tell these neighbors who were there for me the whole time that I appreciated them more than I could ever put down in words when all I wanted to do is crawl under a rock and hope the holidays to pass quickly?

As Christmas came closer and closer I asked got to bring my mind peace found my thoughts drifting to Christopher and his giving heart and my Grandmother and how she showed loved through her cooking (she was truly the best cook and I can only hope and pray that I'm as good as her). My mind twisted and turned around the memories of both of them and how they both taught me that life isn't about what you have, but who you share it with and to tell them forth right how much they mean to you. A plan began to form and before I knew it was standing over a stove making something I had never made before - tweaking and testing, tweaking and guessing and before I knew it I had made one, then two, four, twelve, twenty batches of something that reminded me of the love and care that two people brought to my life. There in these assorted shapes and sizes was a tasty treat for others, but chalked full of memories, tears and joy that danced in my head while I made them. Each dozen was carefully placed in a pretty little box with a white bow. Hand delivered with Ethan in tow and as each person opened their doors to us and their eyes got big and each person cracked a smile it filled my heart with joy.


For me sharing those little boxes of my heart was the best gift that I could share with those that had been there for me; it was the best way to keep the memory of two people who mean/meant the world to me and always reminded me it's not what you have, but what is in your heart. The next year, I made them again, then the year after that and again this year. The number of batches has grown from my original twenty to almost 35-40, but it doesn't matter to me. Each batch is made with love, memories, great conversations from whom ever happens to stop over while I'm making them. They are a little piece of New Orleans that I call home. But most of all they are the little reminders of those I love and lost and how they help keep the meaning of life, love and Christmas in my heart. It's not what you can buy for your self or others, it's giving that little part of you to others to share and love. It's about always telling those around you how much they mean to you and how thankful you are to have them in your life. And most importantly it's about the tenderness of goodwill that we share with those that fill our lives every day and might only pass through it once.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas.
Pax
Denise 

October 12th

On October 12th my facebook book status was, "[Today] I remember how life all changed 3 yrs ago." It was that day, three years ago that Christopher's battle with cancer ended. It was a day where I knew; life as I knew it was going to be different – completely. And as I started on my new path of my new normal and my own self discovery I saw how it was all so different and yet still the same.

This morning I walked my little muppet to school - in the rain. Yes the rain. Ethan loves the rain like there is no other; which he takes after his dad. Christopher's belief was that the rain was pure and clean; so, ergo you have to walk in the rain at least once in your life to understand what life is all about. It was/is an interesting philosophy to say the least and one that as I move closer to my zen I’m starting to understand where he was coming from. So it didn't surprise me (at all) that that day Ethan wanted to walk in the rain. So we did.

I will admit that when I suggested to Ethan that we drive to school I might have been a hair bent out of shape when he exclaimed that he wanted to walk and I just might have started to put the proverbial Mommy foot down on that choice. However, that day is the one day out of the year that I promised myself that Ethan and I resided in a different plain, for this one day, we are friends – equals in a way. We both experienced a loss and my loss is no greater than his. The pain that might find it’s way into my heart is no sharper or stronger than the one that will/might find it’s way into his. This was a day of celebrating the life of the one we lost and the life of the one who bought so much joy into our hearts. So… we walked… in the rain.

We jumped puddles. We laughed. We goofed off. Ethan told me I walk too fast. I joked that’s because he walks too slow. We made silly faces at each other. I asked him if he was going to have good day and he said in a very loving tone, “today I will be brave mommy.”

I was taken aback. I have never really explained what this day means directly to Ethan. I have never felt like it was the right time; yet. However, I have shown him through changing things we do on this day that today is a very special day for the both of us; even going as far to say, “today is a special day and one day I will explain it all to you when you are older.” So for my muppet to express his bravery to me – it was heart stopping and stopped me in my tracks.

When we got to school he hugged me, told me that he loved me and as he ran into the building turned and blew me a kiss. My heart filled with warmth; he’s never done that on the way to school. See, if you knew Ethan you would know how much he loves school and how as I drop him off he runs to get to his class room because he craves learning. So this simple little gesture of his love and devotion made my day just a little brighter.

I went home and got ready for something I have be working on for the last 16 months. Why 16 months? Well that’s how long Christopher was on chemo. It’s how long h roughly his overall battle with cancer was. So it’s in my way of reminding me of his struggles and keeping in my heart that he never gave up. This day I cut off the 12” of hair that I’ve been growing out. It’s been a labor of love to say the least – the summers are the worst with long hair and we’ve had a pretty warm one here in Dallas this past summer. But it’s a labor of love that I not only loved doing, but knew that at the end of this journey it would go to a child in need and that is all I needed to know to know that this gift was one I couldn’t give up on.

Cutting all that hair off was emotional to say the least. It’s one of those emotions where you feel like as high as a kite before your about to do it – then as it’s happening your asking your self why you are doing this – then it’s done and you look and see what you are able to give someone and it fills your heart with so much joy you almost burst from the inside out.

After getting my hair cut I ran and got some cup cakes and then was off to pick up my muppet. He was so excited to see me and me for him. We hugged and he asked what we were going to do (being that I picked him up earlier than normal). I told him we were going to visit daddy and that I had some cup cakes for us to eat. He was super excited and asked if we could leave a cup cake for daddy too.

When we got out to the grave, we sat and talked about his day at school and what things were his favorite part about the day. We talked about how good the cupcakes were and how he “loved” these cup cakes.

We didn’t stay long, Ethan managed to eat the frosting off a cupcake or two and I realized that we needed to get some dinner before he filled up on sugery-frosting-goodness.

That day was hard to fathom being that it’s been 3 years and yet feels like it was so much longer than that and yet there are times that it feels like only a year ago. Grief is a strange thing. Its one where I don’t think you completely lose the feeling of loss – you just learn how to cope with the emotion that sits in your heart. And there might be times that we encounter triggers and it brings those emotions to the surface, but as long as we work on understanding them and processing them then they become easier to handle and understand.

I had a good day of remembering the one I lost and yet remembering what this life has in store for me and what I can do for it. Pax.

From Vanity To Charity

Last year I ran a run that not only was one of the best things I had even done for my self, but for the benefit of other people. It was therapeutic in nature and helped me take moving forward to a whole new level due in part to my iPod stopping just a few songs in and leaving me to float within the maze of thoughts that I had put off getting lost in and having some conversations with God that needed to be had.

I ran this run for the memory of a man that consistently challenged me to be a better person and for the future of one that never really knew his father and has so much of life that will be missed because of this (not to mention what will come into his life due in part to having his father and grandmother pass from the same cancer).  It’s a run that I will continue to run from now until my legs won’t hold me up to cross the finish line.

This year’s run was a little different for me; mentally and physically. Mentally due it part to the fact that another year had gone by and I’m just in a different place with how I feel about life, cancer, God and the plan that is set for Ethan and I. I’m ok with everything and while I might still have my moments when I break down and remember the things I lost – I just don’t live in that part of my mind any more. There is a peace that resided in that part of my mind and I owe allot to how I got there. It took taking time to discover who I was. Not just discovering whom the “d” was without Christopher, but the “d” that I’ve always wanted to be. The “d” that I had always aspired to be and yet never really felt like I was putting 100% of my self behind it. The “d” that was always caught up with work, cancer and what else I could add to my plate to keep from having to think about what was going on in life in general.

Part of that change started with Christopher and a conversation he and I had when he was in the hospital after finding out he had cancer. I sat in this little white room with a TV that seem to play Walker Texas Ranger on every hour and on the 8 of 10 stations it had available. The smell was overly clean, but not in that piney clean sorta way; it was stale and sterile. The sounds of other people on the floor coughing and turning and knowing that they too had cancer was madding being that Christopher was the youngest person on the cancer wing. Christopher was dressed in those see through gowns and in only Christopher fashion he was up beat and cheerful. He was ready to make a plan and we talked about everything and anything. We chatted on how aggressive this cancer was, his will to fight this more than just the average tooth-and-nail; how we, as a family, was going to attack this cancer.

Faith, nutrition, medicine (Chemo), physical fitness and mental health was our plan. It was a good plan that both Christopher and I agreed to and one that while we discussed how we would make all this happen. Christopher and I made a pack that we would do whatever we could to be there for others facing similar situations; no matter what. It was at that point that he looked at me and challenged me to grow my hair out and cut it all off to give to Locks of Love. First let me say this wasn’t really an odd challenge for me. I’m notorious for growing my hair out then on a whim cutting it all off – so why don’t I “put that to good use” is how he phrased it.

I scheduled my first donation of hair months in advance; which ended up being just barely two week after his passing. I remember going into to my hairdresser and being asked, “are you ready” and just wanting to say “no”. This was not only my hair but also they were rings of my preverbal tree. “This is where we were told he had cancer”, “surgery”, “chemo”. I could mentally see the path of this journey through my hair. However, in the end I did cut my hair and while if felt good to cut off that hair and give it to someone who is going through cancer, it was gut wrenching. I cried on the way home thinking – what did I do…

But a few months past and I came up with an idea. One that while I thought was brilliant, I’m sure my friends all thought I was crazy and would cope out somewhere before the end. I wanted to donate as much hair as Christopher was tall. This was man who challenged me to do something that I had never thought of and I wanted to honor that thought the best way I knew how. So why not donate as much hair as I could in the memory of a man who to this day even after his passing moves people to better themselves.

Tomorrow, I will cut off 12 inches of hair and donate it again to Wigs For Kids in memory of Christopher as my second donation of the six I promised to myself. As you can see from the photo it’s been a labor of love and one that I’m not only proud to do, but absolutely love that I am. This process has helped me to discover the person I have always wanted to be. The person that gives up vanity for charity, to discover the greatest gift that I could give to another person is the one that fills my soul with light and love, to give without limitation and celebrate each day with love in my heart, finding out who I am by giving up something so simple of myself.

Growing my hair out started back in July of 2010 (the month Christopher started Chemo) and I have been watching my hair get longer and longer and more excited with each inch that grew out. I began to think how if other people could go through this same process of discovering and giving up a little part of themselves how; maybe – just maybe, it might start a movement. One where people give a little part of themselves to help those in need.

It’s not about hair, but helping those around you.

I came up with the idea to start a virtual movement where in the month of October asking people to “Give a Lock” of them selves. Take your vanity and turn it into charity. Give a lock of yourself to something or someone. Donate your time to a soup kitchen, or a single mom who needs time to her self, ask the little old woman down the street if she needs help or find a charity and put a part of yourself behind it. Take that time and discover a part of yourself that you might not have ever known.

Now being that I LOVE music (and it seems to help me push through those moments when I can’t find the words to sum up those complex feelings that reside in my head) I recently asked a friend and local artist to write a “theme song” (if you will) about the experience of giving yourself into something bigger than yourself. He accepted the challenged and after explaining why I was doing this he sent me the lyrics to a song that not only touched me because it was about the process I was going through; discovering myself, but it was something that I thought needed to be shared with everyone.

So my challenge to those of you who read this blog (and share this on Facebook and Twitter to those who don’t) – Give a Lock of yourself to something or someone. Live life without a limitation and love without condition. Help those that might not ask for help. Share those stories with me in the comment section for people to read and become inspired. And to help motivate you, click here to listen to the single or here for the full album and I encourage you to download them (heck it's free music) – let it help you figure out who you are suppose to be. And don't forget to comment your stories that have inspired you in a way to help those around you. Pax to you all! 

Looking After You

This is my view from my front stoop. I've sat here many a day watching Ethan play and telling my self that I needed to soak in every color, sound, scent and exclamation of his sweet little face. For one day, before I knew it, my stoop would be empty with those colors and sounds of his laughter because time had found him and made him into a man. It was in these days that I found out that Ethan has the most amazing little gift. He takes all the urgency, the hurry up and wait, the hustle and bustle of life and slows it down to a point where time feels like it stops and it's just the two of us in this great big world of ours.

Ethan started Kindergarten last month. A day that I swore to myself would not be emotional and yet in therapy I was making mental notes that I wasn't completely sure how the day would go down because of the memories I was allowing my mind to wonder to. A photo that I took just a two months before Christopher passed is a hard photo to set my eyes upon. Not because it's a photo of Ethan and Christopher; but due in part to the exchange in conversation that took place right after I snapped it. It went something a little like this:

Christopher turning over his shoulder and carefully giving me a head nod to step up to his side so he could talk with me. Quickly walking by his side; I give him a loving smile and sigh from the heat of the day while I try and briefly squint through the blazing sun.

In a soft and loving tone Christopher states with his heart, "I think the day Ethan starts school I'll take the day off so we can walk him to school together and I can walk him home." I didn't say anything, but smile, then tear up. For the idea that he looked forward to something so far into the future meant that in his head he was going to fight; to beat cancer, and be there to see his son start school.

He wrapped his arm around me and as we walked to the park he talked about how much it will mean to him and how much sadness it would bring due to the loss of his mom. I filled the silence with words of encouragement and the conversation was ended with me saying, "you're a great dad, you just being there for him will be enough... (insert loving smile)."

Those memories while sweet and heart warming have found a way to haunted my dreams and those moments when I'm left alone to the quietness of my own thoughts. I let my fears wrap themselves around these tiny little moments and turn them into something monstrous and vivid. However, I'm the queen of these haunting thoughts - the ghost buster of fear if you will. I've learned allot in these last three years and one of them is your fear only has as much power as you are willing to give it. And I was not going to let these moments haunt me on a day so near and dear to my heart.

Ethan's first day came and I was what you could say a bottle, no - jar, no - bucket of butterflies. Nervous that I would break down. Scared that walking those same steps over again would make me sick to my stomach. I was timid from the idea that my little muppet was going to big school for the first time - and sans one parent who's one dream was to be there. However, in good ole "d" fashion, all those fears were swallowed when I walked out and took Ethan's photos and saw all our neighbor and friends out there with us to all walk to school together. (Did I ever say how much I LOVE my neighbors & friends? Well if I didn't - LOVE THEM ALL! ALLOT! BUNCHES!)

To say we had a good start, well, lets see, yeah, that, that would be a LIE. OH DEAR. Ethan cried and didn't want me to leave, but in the end I just had to walk out and pray that his day would go well. It wasn't until I got in the car to drive to work when it hit me. I looked over to change lanes and there is was. His car seat. Empty. The radio was set on my stations and not his CDs. My morning routine had changed. Forever. And I lost it. I cried. I missed my muppet. I missed the crazy singing and laughter that filled my morning commutes. This day was going to be rough...

As the day went on I sat and looked up at the clock what seemed like every five mins. Thinking. "He's at recess right now." "Now he's at lunch." "Specials." "Being picked up." That little gift that worked so to my advantage had backfired on me... Brutally. All I wanted to do is rush to his day care and hear about the wonderment that filled his day and see his glowing little smile. What I got.... well? It went something a little like this...

Walking into the day care Ethan spies me and runs up all half smiles. We hug and I ask in the most bouncing voice I can muster how his day was.

"Mommy. I. I have to tell you something."

"What is that muppet?" with one eye brow raised because you never know what that comment will get you.

"Today was my last day. I'm never going back there."

In those two little sentences I could feel my heart break and begin to separate. This is my muppet and it was more than obvious that he didn't have a good day. The car ride home was filled with rear view glances and me wanting to talk to him about this, but I also knew this was a conversation that needed to be had over some milk and cookies.

When we got home we sat on the stairs and talked. The best part about the relationship Ethan and I have is most of the time he feels free to express all that is on his mind and I treasure that so much. He told me how no one played with him at recess, he didn't understand the computer class and how he didn't have any friends in his class and felt alone.

Alone - the magic word. I loath that word. Alone is what you are when there is no one looking after you or your benefit. Alone is a horrible feeling that I spent many a months dwelling over the concept and the one emotion that I vowed never to let my child feel. It was in those moments that I explained how I felt about this day. No I didn't go into how I missed his dad, but I did explain to him that I was scared too. That each and every day I "look after you".

I look after his fears, worries and concerns and that his job is to let me know how he feels and what I can do to help him. That I look after each little detail in his life and I would always be there for him even if he can't see me or touch me. I will always look after him because the bond we have is so great. We then worked on formulating a plan to make this new transition not so scary for him. We assigned him buddies from neighbor friends to walk into the school building with. And how he can make friends with the children in his class. And I'm happy to say that school is now for him an exciting place to go and our conversations are filled with "I can't wait till...." and not "that was my last day."

I know all parents have a hard time when their kids start school - single parent or not. It's hard. Hard because as parents we all want to look after our child and ensure that they are taken care of. I praise all the parents that sent their kids off to school for the first time, first day and even with first new transitions from middle school, to high school, to college. Just because they grow, their little gifts of slowing down times keeps them young in our hearts for us to look after. Pax to you all. :)

Running For Our Lives

This is the time of year where it gets close to the close of another year since Christopher passed. The first September after he passed was rough remembering the milestones of getting the phone call that life was going to change as we knew it. Explaining to the one I loved that while he had so much hope that would fill the world three times over it wasn't enough to keep him here on this mortal plain.

September became that month that could fall off my calendar and I wouldn't ever care; in fact I think I would have preferred for it to just disappear all together and those memories wiped from certain parts of my mind. But then again that's completely impossible and as I have discovered it's when we don't face the things we fear is when we lose our selves into the deepest darkest parts of our minds and as we all know that's not the healthiest way of dealing with them.

Then last year I was able to participate in a run that was a turning point in my life. One song into this 5k run my iPod died and I was left to my own thoughts for the next 3 something miles... ugh... But God had a plan that the iPod needed to die so he and I could have a talk and I was able to leave allot on that track and yet pick up the pieces of me that I didn't know I had left behind. It was so moving. To be honest I'm not really sure I can even put into words what it meant in the way that would do it justice. That day when I got home Ethan was full of questions. Why did I run? Where did I run? Did I know that Daddy was on my shirt? I won't lie knowing his curiosity for what I just done; I knew that this year I would try and make him a part of it.

So this year as I trained for my run on the treadmill (yeah, for those who don't know Dallas has been in the triple digits for a crazy amount of days) I let Ethan be apart of my training. I would put on one of his shows and we would race! Well, now let me explain the race. I tried to finish my run before his show was over. It worked great until he wanted apple juice or crackers during the run (those were the days that I lost). But I also talked to him about why his Mommy was running (and let him pose with my shoes). I explained that children are going through the same thing his dad went through and "we" need to help them the best way we know how. And this month it's through this run.

For those of you who don't know much about Heroes For Children; I encourage you to take some time and read about them and what they do for families dealing with childhood cancers. I also ask that if you are able to please donate to this wonderful charity. This year anyone who donates to my page will be put into a raffle to have the chance to win a top of their choice from BackPocket Sports. I will also like to add that if you would like me to run in the memory of someone or in the honor of someone I would be more than happy! Just comment with who and why and I will wear a band around my wrist with their name so they can run this with me and remind people that it's not about the one, but the many.

I would like to close this with a thank you to all my readers who give me strength and courage to push through the day and better myself. Pax to you all.

My Little Dragonfly

Recently my mind has been consumed with a great number of things that there are days where I don't know if I'm chasing white rabbits down a hole or the other way around. My work keeps me busy as it is, but add in the life of single mother hood, stir and sometimes I feel over baked. But then again I always tell my self that I can sleep when Ethan goes off the college and well that's only what 13 years away; I can stay up that long without sleep. Just kidding. Well… maybe not… (insert sarcastic and tired *sigh* here.)

A few weeks ago I did something that for a mom is life changing; but for me, it was ever so bitter sweet. After dropping Ethan off at pre-school I drove to a building, parked in the first spot I found (which happened to be in the very back of the parking lot). Grabbed some paper work, phone, purse and started to make my way towards this building that would bring back so many memories.

As I walked across the parking lot and the sidewalk I began to listen to the droning sound of my heels click against the concert, the rhythmic pattern of it in step with my heart beat, and how both became a little quicker with each step. Those steps drifted me off through a series of memories that have been floating in my head since that fateful Tuesday when I walked into that building and asked the woman behind the desk where did I go to sign up a child for Kindergarten.

As she put me into a room and I waited for someone to help me I sat at a table made for children. I took in every little teaching aide that ordained the walls. The bright colors and over sized letters where almost visually over stimulating for this designer. And as I took in these colors and letters I could hear Christopher's voice in my head.

"Hey wouldn't it be cool if we walked him to school every morning together?," he would tell me every time we walked to the park next to the school. It was his dream to walk his son to school and yet here I sat in this empty room waiting on someone to get my paperwork and those short little walks that will start in August will be minus one parent. While trying to take my mind off these flashback snippets that ran through my head, I reviewed th

e paper worked that I had already filled out to make sure I didn't miss anything.

And there under the question "how does your child act socially," read "Ethan's Dad passed away in 2008 and Ethan sometimes shares at will that his Dad is in heaven and completely aware of what this means and what it means for him verse other children. However, some children/adults might find it shocking when he brings it up (being that it is random when he does bring it up)."

This was the only place where Christopher was mentioned. There was no place for "Father's Name" - just a spot for "Legal Guardian". It was then that I was coming to a pass in our lives, when time has us in the space where it isn't headline news that his dad is gone and yet not enough time for the sting of handling an all new milestones to

go left unnoticed. Then before I could process these feelings a woman walked in and took my paperwork, gave me a stack of paper work and asked that I sign up Ethan for a mini-tour of the school.

As I glanced at the days there it was an April 18th tour. Christopher's birthday and the 6 month mark of when he was laid to rest. I didn't even look at other days or times. I knew that was going to be the day I took Ethan on his tour. It was a way for Christopher to be there in a way that only he knew how. Again, so how he always manages to get his way when I lest expect it. May be it's the artist in me looking for meaning in everything that happens, maybe it's God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in putting their hand into something so simple and yet complex to expound on a set of emotions that I have struggled and dreaded.

I left there and sat in my SUV for a few minutes taking in what I just did, what it meant for Ethan and how we have both been presented with a new set of milestones that while are bittersweet to me, Ethan will never really know that emotional tug of war that wages in my head and find excitement in it all the little steps in his life. I let my mind flip through the pages of my memories, flashing snippets of images, smells and conversations and finding that this day was more overwhelming than I thought it would or could be. I was joyfully singing my child up for school and struggling not to let the grief of something Christopher looked so forward to not over come the day.

On April 18th Ethan and I went to the school for our tour. Ethan was scared and I think it took all of 60 seconds for him to realize and understand that his friends from pre-school were not going to his "big boy" school. And in classic Ethan meltdown he put on the brakes, cried and begged me to leave. As a mom it's heartbreaking to explain to your child that this all so scary thing - it's not that scary when you yourself remember wh

at it was like to start a new school with no friends. At times it does feel like the world will come to crashing halt and in those moments your fears come crashing in around you. Yet - I put on that "I'm concerned, but you'll be ok" face and explained that his friends on our street are also starting school and he will have friends when he comes here.

What I got back was the classic Christopher look. One eyebrow up, one down, eyes slightly squinted, lips only barely open and the only thing I was waiting for was the "uh-huh" to come pouring out. The good thing about the "Christopher look"; I looked at it for 16 years and it didn't phase me then and I wasn't about to have it phase me now - not when there was still two hours left to this "mini-tour".

Surprisingly it went well with minimal meltdown and after bringing Ethan to his pre-school and me back to work I started putting in his school dates into my computer. Meet the teacher night, popsicle night, holidays, school sessions… it started to become overwhelming. Holy Kindergarten Batman, life is about to change, dramatically.

From that day till about a week ago, there has always been a day that floats by that I think to myself what in holly hell have I gotten myself into. Not only will Ethan start Kindergarten, but he will also begin Faith Formation at our church and will have class one day a week for an hour. Then there is soccer. Yep soccer. Ethan is done with Tot-Kwan-Do and has asked to play soccer. So there goes practice night(s) and game days. SO that's another few days out of the week that I will need to schedule out of the week for us. THEN, yes then, Ethan has asked to take music lessons. And this is where I had to draw the line (for my own sanity and his). But how am I going to do this all?

Then one Saturday while walking back from the pool with my muppet; we saw something wonderful. Something that made both of us stop in our tracks. Ethan saw this subli

me little thing first.

"Mommy, look it's a draco-fly!"

And as quickly as my heart stood stir there is was. A dragonfly. Resting ever so quietly on a branch of our sage bush next to our front door. My first inclination was to just sit and stare and take it in fore the moment before Ethan was sure to bounced through and the dragon fly was sure to fly away. Then before I knew Ethan was so close to this delicate little creature that I wanted to lecture him on getting so close, but I didn't. I didn't because I was more in awe of the fact it just sat there and let us take it in. It wasn't afraid of us. Or Ethan proclaiming loudly that he loved this "draco-fly".

I quickly ran in and grabbed my camera and snapped a few shots off of a creature that represents the love Christopher and I shared and where he was now. See during his funeral our priest explained how leaving this mortal plain was like that of the life of a dragonfly. Immersed in darkness and once it finds light, it can't go home. And here sat this wonderful dragonfly who still to this day has not left my front y

ard and reminds me that even when I think I'm alone in this world - I'm not. He (Christopher) is still there to guide me when I feel as if those new aspects in life seem rough and overly bumpy. He's always here to let me know that I can do anything I put my mind to. And Ethan starting school is no different.

So in a few weeks, Ethan will start something new in his life with going to school and I will also start a new a chapter of our lives with how a whole new routine is about to unfold and be learned. And just like all new things I am sure it will be rough and a little hair pulling truing to figure out how to work, get Ethan to practices and games and balance faith as well. However, what i do know is that no matter the routine - he is there. Christopher doesn't need his name on a sheet of paper to be Ethan's dad, he only needs to rest in our hearts where it's most important.

It all started with a mouse….

Walt Disney said a famous quote once that said something to the effect of “we should all remember that this all started with the love of a mouse.” And he’s right. A simple little drawing that was drawn on a train if I have my Disney lore correct. And being an artist listening to things like that make me smile for it’s in those moments when we doodle on the back of a napkin or a receipt that is buried in the deepest, most bottommost dwelling of our purse or messenger bag that can turn into something some unlawful amount of people flock to each year.

It’s the idea that something that is locked in our head can turn out to be something so magical for hundreds of thousands of people. Heck millions if not billions. That in and of its self is magical. Can you even fathom the marketing department it takes to keep a place like that running and bringing people to it each year? I would say that working for this company in their art department would be my dream job; but then again the idea of living in a place hotter than Texas? Ummmm…. That dream just might stay there in the white rabbit hole that sits between Neverland and my own Adventure Land.

I recently went on vacation with my muppet. And yes, we went to Disney World. Me, Ethan, my parents and my brother (for a short time) all stayed in my parents RV at Disney’s Fort Wilderness Camp Ground and spent 10 days exploring the World that millions flock to. It was the first time for Ethan and honestly a little over 12 years for my family and I. So yes, in a way there were things different, new and also very magical for everyone.

However, the most magical part about it all was Ethan’s face. He was so excited about the idea of Disney World, I think I could have taken him to a new mall in Dallas and he would have thought it was Disney World. Now don’t get me wrong I showed him photos on the internet and explained things where I could; but honestly, can you really explain a place like this other than through the overwhelming awe that floods into our senses when you walk down Main Street USA for the first time?

Ethan was memorized and I personally couldn’t help but revert to my ten-year-old self for him. To see him completely terrified of Big Thunder Mountain only to be completely shocked when he got off the ride and went from what I thought was him being on the edge of a melt down to jumping up and down yelling at the top of his lungs, “That was awesome! Can we go again?!?”

I loved how with each ride it became his new favorite. And with each new “fav” he added to his list, a new fav was added to mine because it was my muppet’s favorite and the smile that came over his face filled my heart with so much joy, I couldn’t help but smile from the inside out. It made my heart sing to see him so excited and enjoying himself so much.

At the end of our trip Ethan proclaimed that the Buzz Lightyear ride was the best thing in the whole wide world, next to Thunder Mountain, The Speedway and the Carrousel (and who would have thought he would like the carrousel because back home I can’t really get him to ride in a shopping cart let alone anything that moves in a circle and up and down for less than 60 seconds.)

We spent ten wonderful days exploring the new adventures, getting bitten by various spiders and bugs and making memories that I hope Ethan will remember for years to come. But this month wasn’t filled with just a vacation, but two birthdays that were turning points for both Ethan and I.

This year I turned 34 and to be honest this birthday felt different. How might you ask? Well I don’t think I can fully explain without explain what up to this point my 30’s has meant me to be up to this point.

About two weeks before my 30’s birthday Christopher and I got the news that he had cancer – yeah happy birthday to me… We didn’t do anything on my birthday because Christopher had staples that covered the lower half of his stomach. But I saw this birthday as a transition to a new life – a new healthy life. One where we, together would fight this cancer.

On my 31^st birthday Christopher was becoming increasingly tired from the non-stop chemo and again my birthday somewhat went under the radar because I didn’t want him to feel bad that he was too tired to do anything. Then just a few short months later I became a widow. Again… yeah to the 30’s (insert largest sarcastic eye roll I can muster).

Turning 32 was hard for the simple reason of this was the same age that Christopher was when he was told he had cancer. I think I spent most of the day wondering how I would feel if someone told me that I had cancer – what would do, what would I think, how did Christopher do this? It made me admire him more and more for all that he went through.

Then there was last year’s birthday. 33. I was the same age as Christopher was when he passed. Looking at Ethan was really hard that day. To think that Christopher knew for a month that he was going to die. He was going to leave this little man that means so much to him. It was heart breaking and to say the least I tired to ignore that birthday to the best of my ability. I didn’t bring attention to it at work and for the most part tried to ignore Facebook the best I could. It was one of the most difficult birthdays I have ever had.

Then there was this year. I expected it to be hard. I expected it to hurt. I even prepared myself for the tears to flow most of the day. But what I got… Shocking. I woke up that morning, excited. Filled with anticipation for the day. This was a new day, yet more than just a new day. This was a new year. Where I expected the pain of living one more than Christopher – it was filled with nothing… No heavy burden on my shoulders; that weight was some how lifted. It was like I was living life through a new set of eyes. When people wished me a happy birthday – I smiled for the first time in four years. And you know what? It felt good to smile and be proud of being one year older.

Why this sudden transformation in the way I saw something as simple as turning a year older? Maybe it’s because I woke up and said I’m tired of the pain and hurt that cancer brought to me. Maybe it’s because I now see the beauty that being able to have that one more birthday means to me; to Ethan. Whatever the case maybe; I’m happy to have felt that feeling and I hope that 35 brings more!

This month was also Ethan’s birthday. My little muppet turned five. Five. Even as I type this I can see him the morning of his birthday when people would ask “and how old are you?” Ethan putting his hand as high in the air as he could reach and spreading his fingers as wide as his little hand could spread them without dislocating any digits and proclaiming that he was “five because his mommy took away his four!”

Watching Ethan so excited about his birthday made me feel good as a Mom and so sad at the same time. This birthday marks a time when Ethan as lived more time without his Dad than with his Dad. As a parent it breaks my heart. Yet as a single Mom, watching my child so happy at his birthday party – running and playing with other children and not even thinking twice about where his Mommy is; well lets just say it made me feel good.

It brought a peace to my heart that even in those moments where I want to throw my hands up in the air and say – I don’t know how to be a single parent, I don’t know how to answer than question of why daddy can’t come home, or why and how do I explain the new set of challenges that comes with being a single parent –it’s all worth it. It’s all worth the books I have read, the articles that others have written and my own personal discovery of the how the mind works when it comes to the loss of someone that filled your life with so much joy. Everything I have experienced has been worth it in one way or another.

So as you can see my month has been packed and full with allot and I’m just starting to get Ethan back on his routine and back in the groove before he and I face a whole new milestone. Kindergarten. (insert deer in headlight look of horror – then insert the thought of a pay raise from less money in daycare – ok so maybe kindergarten won’t be so bad after all… insert evil grin)

I will say I am very excited for Ethan to start Kindergarten, but will save that for another post. For those who follow (and who I haven’t lost over such a long post) I’ve started a Facebook page where I’ll try and update the things that Ethan and I are doing and also something new that I’ll be doing in the month of October. Lets just say that I hope it will go viral and I will have a flood of people who will participate in it. I’m working with a dear friend on it and I hope to announce it soon!

Milestones - An Introduction

Allot of you have asked, suggested and some have even stated that I should write a book. Now let me say first off, I'm not a writer by any means. I'm the worlds worst speller and grammar and syntax are all but beaten within an inch of it's life in my hands. But what I do have is an amazing story about life, love, loss and trying to maintain and raise a child while I try and figure how to sort it all out. A story that most people sit in their homes and thank to God, the Universe or whatever they believe in that this is not their life; then there are those few. The ones that are going through it; some with an amazing support system and other just barely hanging on not really sure what to do or how to process their own emotional roller coaster begging to get off this ride life has put them on.

This book is and has always been for Ethan. It was never really meant to share with anyone else other than his eyes and mind. To help him understand that any feelings that he can't explain to me from the loss of his father are not ones that he feels alone, but that at some point were shared by me and how I handled it all. And as I wrote and poured my heart out our that little laptop that was once Christopher's I knew this story isn't just meant for the heart of the three it hold inside of it; but for anyone going through something as incredible as the loss of a loved one or relationship.

Christopher was an amazing man in that his story still to this day is shared. I watch as I explain to people what we went through and what I did to make the life for Ethan and I little better; how just a little fore thought goes a rather long way, their eyes glaze over and tears are sometimes shed. It's one that is a part of my life and has molded me into the person I am today. One that while I wish I never went through; I understand what this loss has brought to me as a person, a mother and a friend to those whom I reach out to going through their own ups and downs.

Below is the introduction of the book which I have titled "Milestones". It's written in a calendar type form that starts on October 12th with the passing of Christopher. It catalogs the feelings and emotions that I went through and the thoughts that ran rampant in my head that day. With 12 chapters and subsections going over the milestones of our lives, remembering his birthday, our wedding day, the day we met, the first time I had to lose someone I loved and Christopher wasn't there for me with open arms to help me through the sorrow. What it meant to us while also sorting out what it now means to me and Ethan. It's still a work in progress, but it's almost done and I will be putting up a section or so from time to time to share with you all. I hope you all enjoy it and here is the introduction to the book that has taken me over 6 months to write, but I think it's ready to show the world.....

Introduction

This is story about the strength that resides like a fire in ones gut and weakness that smothers and flickers at that flame. It is about love, fear, loathing and dare it even be said deep seeded hatred. This is journey to a place that some people never experience and while most of us will; this experience comes to those only when we are old, grey and for the most part collecting social security (if it’s even around then), playing bingo with our friends and knowing that our lives were filled 80% (or more) of the time with an immense sense of joy.

It’s a journey of life after the loss of someone that love held (and holds) so dear to our hearts that their physical loss on this mortal plane is like a twisting knife to our already battered and bruised hearts. However, while we travel down this path we are forced to remember those moments in our lives when that person was there to share them and bring our lives an overwhelming sense of joy and jubilation. And while we dance in those brief snippets of our memories we also remember how bittersweet it all seems now that our lives have been turned upside down.

I’m a widow. Yes I said it. (No shocker there right, this is a book about grief, morning and how I struggled through the idea of moving forward with a life that seems to stand still.) I became a widow at the age of 31 due to a disease that there is still yet no cure. All we can hope for is to fight this monstrous illness so that tumors can be found in time to give you a fighting chance against the cancer that rages in your body.

I lost my husband, Christopher, at the age of 33 to Stage IV Colon cancer with metastasis that covered 50% of his liver. We discovered this when he was 32 and just days before our son, Ethan (aka “Muppet”), turned 11 months old and our six year wedding anniversary. After a non-stop chemotherapy treatment that lasted 16 months, his liver gave out and Christopher lost his battle with cancer on October 12, 2008.

Shortly after his passing I did everything I thought I was suppose to do with this new found title of “widow”. I started going to a therapist and support group; to which I soon discovered that there were steps that I was going to have to take. Milestones, if you will, to make it through this rough and arduous path of grief, morning and finding how life moves forward without the one you love. These are my milestones laid out in a year. Each milestone took me on path of remembering the joy of what I had with this wonderful man I called “My Love” and why going through that day was so hard just because of what that day held for me in my heart. There are days of intermingled joy in what I accomplished and yet the sorrow of what each day now meant to me and what it used to mean for us. A journey of how we became two, from two to three and from three; then there was two.

This is my journey.

Don’t ever feel less than…

This blog has always meant to be based around the idea of love, light and fighting my way through the situation life has given me. My last blog post got some eyebrow raises and also a standing ovation from friends who praised me for doing what I did.

However, it was hard to dig deep in my soul and make the choice to open the door to my own Pandora’s box for the world to see. But then again, this box needed to be opened to show that I stand my ground and that the line I have placed in the sand isn’t going anywhere.

Yes I “grew a pair”. But to explain how there are nights where I look at my little muppet and think that someone could not have his best interest at heart brings out things that make me not like myself. I don’t like the anger. The sadness and most of all the pain that it brings to my heart.

One day while in the car (on the way to grief therapy of all places) I was radio surfing and caught a line of a song that stuck into my head.

“Mistreated, Misplaced, Misunderstood,” radiated through my ears. Just those three little words got the creative juices flowing and I knew there was a blog post in there somewhere. See to understand how I think would take me days to explain; but let me say sometimes things come to me as simple as a line from a song. Music; what can I say, it’s my addiction. Lyrical poetry that speaks to my heart and seems to put the world in a state of zen when I need it to be.

I spent most of the week wondering what else was behind that song that I missed by having to turn my car off to make my appointment. Then one day while listening to the iTunes radio there it was. Clear as day and at a time of day that I wasn’t tuning the background noise out. It was wonderful. It was inspiring. It hit my soul with a fire that would send a bond fire up like a set of matchsticks.

And like any song that I relate to I had to find out about it – what did it mean, why did the artist write it, what are the lyrics to it. And reading those words just made me love everything about this song even more.

It made me think of all my ups and downs in life and how sometimes I feel mistreated, misplaced and sometimes possibly even misunderstood. But it’s life and we do the best we can at it. It can cause us to second guess what we know is right in our hearts and underestimate the power of our own feelings. But I took my fear and swallowed it whole. I’m not trying to ignore the situation that presented itself.

I will always remember a conversation I had with my dad who shared with me how he wanted things in his life and carrier and didn’t get them – but it didn’t mean that he was any less of a person. It just wasn’t meant to happen. But he made the choices he made to always better his life for his family. That conversation will always stay with me. Because it was my dad’s way of saying that I didn’t have to be President of the United States, he was happy with whatever I was as long as I was happy. And honestly knowing that and having those friends who sent me emails and commented on my blog about how they admired me and what I was doing – it was like a thousand pats on the back that I needed to know I did the right thing.

It’s like the song on the radio who’s words filled my soul with grace and a undefined tenacity; Pink’s F**king Perfect, “Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead. Everything is so complicated; look happy, you’ll make it. Pretty, Pretty please, don’t you ever ever feel like your less than f**king perfect. Because you are to me.”

This song, made me think of Ethan and the ups and downs he will have in his life. How he might find himself “mistreated, misplaced or possibly even misunderstood” with the situation we have been placed in. And it got me thinking that everyone in life should have that person that gives them those moments when they get that pat on the back. Everyone should feel like I did reading friends comments about something that was so hard and gut wrenching for me. And to bring some light back into this blog I want to let some people know some things…

To my late grandparents, you are perfect for the families you created and the love you shared and brought into their lives. Papa Agenlly I wish I could have known you and the graphic artist that you were. I think we would have had some amazing conversations. Grammy Agnelly you were perfect to me in all your short and sassy Italian ways; I know where part of that spitfire in me comes from. Papa Johansson you were perfect in how you cared about those around you and I know where I got a bit of my humor in life. Grams you’re perfect in the ways that you showed me what it meant to be a gentle and yet to be strong like any good southern woman.

To my parents you created two amazing kids who owe you the entire world. You taught us what the word resilient means and how we should never be ashamed of who we are. You showed us how to stand on our own two feet with courage and yet were always the one to give a helping hand when we fell flat on our own faces. I’m more than proud to have you as my mum and dad; you’re perfect to me.

For my brother who never stops amazing me. You were brave to make changes in your life and take steps that most would be afraid of and for that you are perfect to me.

To my friends, D, J (in BR), J (in Gtown) and M – you all are so perfect through my eyes. D you are perfect for working so hard to understand and engulf your self in love and working towards letting it fill you from the inside out. I know that you and T will be so “happily ever after”. J in Gtown your perfect for everything you have done for Ethan and I, thank you . J in BR you perfect in the way that you work so hard to find your sense of zen; one day at a time. M you are perfect in how you raise three kids and always keep a calm and collected head.

To my blog readers your perfect to me for following the ramblings of a stranger and giving me the motivation to know that I’m not the only one out there that sometimes needs to know I’m not alone.

To my other friends and family you all are also perfect to me. You’re out pouring of love amazes me daily and without you all I don’t know where I would be. Especially those of you who live in El Paso and Tennessee.

To my neighbors; you all are more than perfect to me. Without you all, there would be lost a major ingredient of Hope that I find here. I love you all so very very much.

And last but not least – My muppet you are so f**king perfect in my world. You are the collaboration of love and everything that is good in this world between your dad and I. You are perfect from those long eyelashes to your little monkey toes. You are such the perfect blend of compassion and stubborn headedness that even when I’m giving you the eye to correct you – know that I smile from the inside out with the joy that you bring into my life. You my muppet will and always be so perfect to me. So please don’t feel any less than that…

Go home and hug that certain someone who makes you feel like they are perfect to you and let them know it…