Let The Bucket List Trip Begin

Week 35

Today I will be brief. I am loading the car to head to my mom's. Our adventure begins tomorrow. We have specific destinations but no real itinerary. We have specific wishes with lots of wiggle room in between. We have a true desire to spend this time together. I will try to keep a diary while I am gone. Maybe, I will share it here. Who knows? But for now, I'm outta here!

We Are All in Essence Dying

Week 9

“Why do we wait to be diagnosed with a terminal illness to feel a sense of urgency about living? The fact of the matter is from the instant we take our first breath, we are in essence dying. Why can’t we live our lives to the fullest without a dire prediction?” -This is what I started to write on Saturday night. Today’s date loomed large as it is the anniversary of my beloved grandmother’s death. This led me to some serious thoughts on the subject of death, which ultimately led me to some serious thoughts on the subject of life. I went to bed with a vortex spinning in my head on the weightiest of subjects… the complexities of life, death, and life-after-death. I do not recommend this as a method to induce productive sleep.

In April of 2010, my 88 year old mother-in-law was put on a ventilator. As her medical power-of-attorney, I had to make a decision as to when we should remove it. I waited a week to allow time for the family to come say their goodbyes. Nobody came. My husband helped to care for his father so I could remain by her side. I treasure the last 48 hours in a way that no one could ever understand… unless they have been in those shoes with someone they have deeply loved.

In November of 2010, I lost the sister-in-law I cherished. We talked on the phone the day before. We talked on the phone almost every day for 10 years! We were in the middle of a conversation, discussing what the four grandkids that lived with me would be wearing for Halloween, when I arrived at the grocery store. I asked if I could call her the next afternoon. She said yes. She died the next morning. It still bothers me that our last goodbye was more of a “to be continued” that can never be continued; that there were things left unsaid between us.

In February of 2012, I rushed home to Mississippi because my youngest granddaughter was born two months early. Fraught with worry, I watched that tiny little girl struggle to grow stronger, struggle to survive. I left the NICU and went to my grandmother’s house. At 92, I knew she had already begun to give up on life. As I stood by her side telling her about the tiniest new member of our family, she grasped my hand. Her eyes cleared for a moment as I showed her the photo I had taken for her of her great granddaughter. She squeezed my hand weakly and said to me, “I just want to go home, Baby.” The following morning it became apparent it was her time to go. I was blessed to be by her side until she passed away peacefully as dawn broke on March 3rd.

In October of 2012 Dad lost his battle with Alzheimer’s. Once again, I was destined to be there as another soul I loved left its body. At the age of 90, it was his time and he was more than ready for it. How different it is when a person has lived a long, full life and is called home!

In August of 2012 my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer. Words like “terminal”, “inoperable”, “stage 3b”, “less than 3 months” began to swirl through my life like a hurricane hitting the beach. Mama, however, took it in her normal headlong stride. She refuses to give up. Here it is, March 2013 and technically, she has beaten all of the doctor’s predictions. Her bucket list continues to grow and her attitude against her disease does, too. She is one of the bravest people I’ve ever known and I am proud that she’s my mother.

More Than Words

Week 5


The winds of change are blowing with gale force in my life. I feel as if I’m outdoors in the middle of a Category 5 hurricane trying to stay on my feet, with no lifeline in sight. Today I shouted three words I try to never string together, “FML”! I didn’t use the acronym, but the actual words. I threw my hands in the air as I began to cry. I let my tears fall freely in an effort to wash away the overwhelming hurt I felt.

Ever optimistic, ever hopeful, I am doomed to forever be reminded that you can’t wear rose-colored glasses and survive in today’s world. I wish sometimes I were someone, anyone, other than who I am. If I were someone else maybe I wouldn’t love so deeply. Maybe, I wouldn’t hurt quite so much for others. Nor would I be able to be hurt so deeply by the words and actions of others. But, I am who I am and I don’t know how to be anyone else.

We all have different types of people in our lives. For instance, there are people in my life I can always count on to say and do negative, sometimes, painful things. There are a few people who manage to bring drama with them at every turn. There are the people who are a positive, loving influence. And people who give encouragement and strength just because they are who they are. When the lines between the two become blurred, it can be quite painful.

I am saddened to discover that words can inflict the kind of damage that was left in the wake of a conversation I had today. The words were common, ordinary words that cut a path of destruction straight through my heart. To be more accurate, it wasn’t the words themselves but the way in which they were used.

Having someone I love, and admire, question my morals and principles on a subject that has nothing to do with either of those things was disconcerting to say the least. Their barely-concealed, sugarcoated outrage and indignation is a bitter pill indeed. Never in a million years could I have predicted that this particular person would feel the way they obviously do. I tried to make them understand that discussing the subject at hand would get us nowhere. I have no answers to many of the questions that were asked repeatedly because the situation itself is, as yet, unresolved. I am certain that we both left the discussion feeling many of the same things though for vastly different reasons. Frustration, pain, disappointment, and disillusionment are not just words but very real feelings.

The things I’ve always felt we shared such as love, concern, compassion, and understanding were tossed carelessly aside as I was told exactly what was expected from me. I was left with the impression that if I didn’t comply, the consequences would be dire in regard to our future relationship. It’s been a long time since I've felt as if my back was against a wall the way I did today. I freely admit it hurt more than I could have dreamed possible.

One of the words that came up repeatedly was "entitled". The definition of entitlement is “the guarantee of access to benefits because of rights” and a “belief that one is deserving of some particular reward or benefit.” If a person has a “sense of entitlement,” they believe they deserve certain things, if, for no other reason, than they exist. The only thing I believe I am "entitled" to is an entry to Heaven upon my death. Clearly, we see differently on this matter.

I can’t give answers when there are none to be given. I can’t allow words to have the power to inflict the kind of pain I felt earlier. I can’t look backward or forward because I am too dang busy dealing with today. The one thing I can do is to continue to have faith that all will work out as it’s supposed to in the grand scheme of things and that the answers to all the questions will be revealed in due time.