2017-A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Year

I am not going to sugarcoat it, 2017 made Alexander's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day look like a cakewalk, plus my very bad day was 363 days long! 2017 is the year that I would like to forget. I don't even want a re-do. No amount of money or promises of fame would make me change my mind, no sir, not even a little bit. I was planning to ring in 2017 with my new hubby and much hope for the future. I was sure that everything I longed for was just on the other side of midnight. I was so ready for the positive changes I just knew were coming.

I won't go into the dispiriting details of everything that happened as it would take another full year and I have every intention of leaving 2017 far behind in 27 hours and counting. What I will divulge are just a few instances from this year that will gladly be tossed into the sea of forgetfulness.

I have longed for stability for most of my life and thought I had finally found it in the summer of 2016. Life was good. However, the stability I thought I had found began and ended so quickly that I am not even sure that it actually happened. I suppose I thought I could find stability in another person and I kinda "put all my eggs in one basket" as the saying goes, with a rekindled past relationship. I just knew that this was going to be the best year with my new, blended family. I was so excited about the possibilities. That abruptly changed New Year's Eve day 2016. It came out of the blue with no warning and there was no fixing it or going back. I didn't even make it into 2017.  I should have known better. If it is to good to be true, then go with that, because it is. Relationships have always been a challenge for me. Possibly due to my extreme independence, the fact that I rearrange the house constantly (especially when stressed) or simply because the only cooking I do involves a can opener, microwave and a bowl. All I can tell you is that when it comes to relationships I have not had much success. So, after what seemed like a lifetime of being a single mom I thought I would give it another try.  He had been a single Dad for many years as well. I think we were both thinking Brady Bunch. Even the Brady Bunch lasted longer.  Unfortunately it was a painful lesson learned in patience (or the lack of) and how to quietly change your relationship status on Facebook without the "world" noticing and asking why. Needless to say, I failed in both.


In 2012 I founded a nonprofit for middle/high school students on the Autism Spectrum. The nonprofit, Richmond Autism Integration Network, was created while sitting in Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel traffic in 2011. If you are familiar with this experience then you will know that traffic through this tunnel can last for quite some time, in this instance 3 hours and 17 minutes. From RAIN's inception until my resignation in June 2017 this charity had been my baby.  I had the privilege of not only watching it grow from 8 kids the first summer to 300 by my last summer, I also had the opportunity to meet some awe inspiring families and work with some really talented and amazing co-workers. All sounds great right? Sometime during 2016 I started to become weary. RAIN was my heart but as we grew we were still lacking in some really important areas. Trying to wear so many hats was becoming strenuous and I was just beat. RAIN consisted of very long days, almost 24/7 with little help or pay. I was tired, burned out, frustrated, financially strapped and needing a change. I became careless with business decisions, not intentionally but careless none the less. I knew that it was time to move on but I did not want to give up. I would say that a little bit of pride, no actually a lot, got in the way. I felt like if I told the others that I could not continue with RAIN any longer then I was letting them down and that I had failed. Even though we had grown every year, it still was not enough for me to feel successful. The mistakes I made became visible to all of us in the spring of 2017. I was beyond embarrassed and quickly became very defensive. I became angry with everyone, my co-workers, my family and especially myself. I was hurt and I hurt those closest to me with harsh words and quick judgement knowing deep down that it was my own mistakes, personal hurts and pride that were getting in the way. I have never felt so sorry or felt more alone than I did then. If there was anything I could have changed in 2017 it would be the way I handled this. Sometimes I wish I could just whiteout and start again....

In many ways I would say that 2017 was a year of much loss. Relationships dissolved, RAIN moved on without me and I lost my beloved Sarge, my big, 160 lb black & tan coon hound mixed with only God knows what. I adored this boy and I miss him like crazy. There will never be another Sarge. I also lost my friend Brad to cancer. I can not even begin to describe how I felt when I got the call. We had been friends since we were teenagers. He was truly one of a kind. He was funny and so smart. He read people like a book. His wisdom was way beyond his years. I still find myself looking for his texts.

And to top it all off, I got Shingles! Ugh! Worst. Pain. EVER. I kid you not, I wanted to jump off a bridge. Giving birth to a 12 lb baby was way less painful (but that is a story for another day!).

These were just a few of the events that occurred in the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days of 2017. I am sure as you have read this post you have said to yourself surely there was something good in 2017? Even one thing? Well, my oldest son married his bride in April which means I gained a daughter, which is very cool! I got to see my all time favorite band, the Backstreet Boys, play in Charlotte, NC, plus my daughter and I got to see her favorite band, Why Don't We perform, as well as meet them! (We did not want to come back to Richmond, seriously, we wanted to become groupies and just follow the bands. Why Don't We, keep your eyes and ears on those guys!) Other than that, nope, not that I can recall...

As New Year's Eve day approaches (in 3 hours and 52 minutes) I will be casting each hurt into the past. I will be letting go of this dull, continuous ache. I feel as though everything that I needed to be expunged from my life has been exposed and now I can let it go. The insecurities, the inability to say "no", the need to please everyone and take care of everyone, the feeling of never being good enough, all end this year, today. I choose to move into 2018 with a clean slate. I choose to take my time with big decisions, approaching them with fervent prayer, I choose to use my creative talents in an area that serves others wherever that may be (as long as I don't have to be the boss!), I choose to love others and to be there beside them, NOT fixing everything for them, I choose to forgive others and to forgive myself, I choose to take the time I need for me which means stopping to read a book or take a road trip or just do nothing, I choose to spend more time with the Lord and in His Word because I realize that He is the one stable thing in my life. But most of all, I choose to forget the hurt and the pain and more importantly, I choose to remember what it taught me.

Here is wishing you a wonderfully blessed New Year. I am expecting mine to be awesome!

Robin

A Lesson from Tadpoles

We have this little pond in our back yard with a small waterfall and several full grown (five I believe) frogs. One of my favorite things to do in the morning is grab my cup of coffee and my faithful cat Max (that's right, I said cat) and walk my yard. I usually follow the same path every morning. I have taken up gardening in the last three years and I love to see all the plants that I have planted grow and bloom. Who knew that the daughter of a self proclaimed plant killer actually had a green thumb! (Side note, my mother's nickname at the local florist was "Croaker" and it had nothing to do with frogs.) Anyway, the morning walk ends at the pond to check in on the frogs and the other natural inhabitants that live in and around it. My favorite thing to do though, is to watch the tadpoles. At the end of the summer in 2011, I happened upon a great deal at the local Big Lots. A huge round above ground swimming pool reduced from $300 to $60. "What a steal" I thought and I bought it. The kids will love this, it will encourage exercise, etc. I obviously did not think this through very well. It never occurred to me the amount of time and effort it would take to maintain this monstracity and it took away from the aesthetically pleasing look of the yard that I had been cultivating for the last few years. It did not take long before overly excited kids, both mine and ALL the kids in the neighborhood (never knew we had so many)caused a tear in the bottom. Although my son was extremely upset about this I was somewhat relieved. Between the chemicals and the algae,that was insistant upon NEVER going away no matter what I did, I was glad to have a reason to shut it down. Sure, I could patch it, and yes, I was glad the kids had a fun place to hang with their friends. I would much rather them be here with me than roaming the neighborhood and even I enjoyed a dip or two, but going to the neighborhood pool looked way better now that we had tried owning our own pool and it was actually cheaper! Let the draining begin! It seemed like it took forever for that thing to drain. Really it was only about a day but when I want something done I just want it done and I not the most patient person. Virginia weather has been a little crazy this summer and quite uncooperative when it came to taking down that pool. Even though we had "drought" conditions it seemed like every evening there was a shower. With a couple of inches of water in the bottom of the slightly unlevel pool I was in a bit of a quandry as to how to get the last bit of water out. It was to heavy to lift and to shallow to drain as the drain was higher on the side of the pool. So the water just sat and sat....and sat. Okay, a week has passed, summer is busy and the pool has been cast to the side for the moment, until one evening around 9 pm when it sounded as though all of the frogs in the neighborhood decided to have a pool party in my pool and I was not invited. The "singing" was really loud. Loud enough to coax me out into the yard to see what was going on. The security light over the pool came on as I circled it and peeked over the side. One, two, three, four...Nine...I counted nine little frogs swimming, floating and clinging to the side of the pool. They were so small and cute. I watched them for awhile and then called it a night. The pool sat for a little while longer. On a particularly hot evening, just before yet another rain storm, I noticed my daughter and her friend climbing into the pool with cups, scooping up water, and then climbing out and running to the pond. What are they doing? Helping mom drain the pool? How sweet. Actually, as I got closer to the pool I realized that they were not draining the pool for me. It seems that the frog party resulted in hundreds, no, thousands (or so it seemed) of tadpoles. The girls were concerned for their safety and were attempting to rescue them. After about thirty minutes of this they were exhausted and the rain had started. We all abandoned our outdoor projects and ran into the house. "Mom" my daughter asked,"What are you going to do with the tadpoles? You can't kill them mom! Please don't kill them!" First of all I had not really even considered the tadpoles as I knew not of their existence until now and second of all, I could not kill one intentionally much less all of those swimming innocently in the bottom of our pool. "I don't know Lou" (that's her nickname) "let me think about it." The next day I went out, bucket and cup in hand, to start scooping tadpoles. The water was gross and green, the tadpoles, uncooperative and the sun, hot as ...well you know. This is never going to work, I will be here forever trying to "rescue" these tadpoles. Hmmmm....I needed something bigger. Turns out the pool net that we use to clean out the debris was perfect! I could scoop a large amount of tadpoles, run across the yard and drop them into the pond before they suffocated! Back and forth I went scooping these tadpoles. My next door neighbor just watched and chuckled. "Whatcha doing Robin?" he asked. "Rescuing tadpoles" I answered, breathless from my umteenth trip to the pond. "Good for you!" he replied, "I would have just drained 'em" and he walked into his house chuckling to himself the whole time. I believe I even heard him mutter "crazy neighbor" but I could be mistaken. As I ran back and forth scooping I found myself talking to these tadpoles. "Come on guys, cooperate. Don't you know I am trying to save you!" Some would swim away as soon as my feet hit the bottom of the pool. Others swam right into the net. I worked and worked trying to catch every one. Over the course of three days (yes I know, I must be a little crazy) I scooped. What was even more interesting though were my thoughts and feelings as I scooped. I thought about how every tadpole life in that pool was important to me. I thought about how I did not want to leave any tadpoles behind. I was frustrated with the ones that would hide or get so close and then disappear into a dark crease, in the side of the bottom of the pool floor. The little ones, newly hatched, were easier to scoop up. They were niave I guess. The larger ones, some even starting to grow legs, were harder to catch, determined to do things their own way, hiding in algae or trying to "outrun" my net by swimming to the other side. "Don't you get it" I muttered outloud, "I am tring to give you life!" As I released each net into the pond I felt good. The tadpoles immediately swam out into their new surroundings and began grazing on the algae, probably thinking to themselves "so this is heaven!" Well, I thought it would be like heaven to a future frog anyway. I must admit though that there were those that just refused to be saved. They hid and swam away. Each hot day passed and the water slowly evaporated until finally there was no more water to swim in and they just died. It made me sad to see those little tadpoles struggling for a last breathe or dried up on the pool floor. "I told you not to swim away. Why did you have to be so stubborn!" I muttered to myself as I sadly counted the ones left behind. I did everything I could, but I could not save them all. Every morning as I stop by the pond and check to see how my little tadpoles, that are not so little anymore, are doing, I reflect on that simple experience and I think how God must feel as he reaches out to us all through his son Jesus. How frustrated he must feel when he puts people and circumstances in our path to lead us to him and we still run away and hide. I think about how heartbroken he must be as some try to "outrun" him and as a last breathe is taken a soul is lost because it was niavely thought that the world offered an easier and better way. Jesus said that he would make us "fishers of men". I realized that if I put at least half of the energy I used rescuing tadpoles into witnessing to family, friends, co-workers and even total strangers, then I will have done what he has asked me to do and that this is good. Possibly I too can help to cast the net that leads another to salvation. Life's lessons can come from the simplest things, like frogs and pools and tadpoles.

"It's Not Over Until It Is Over"

 This is a true story. It did indeed happen exactly as written. It is our story and I hope that it will inspire you, lift you up, encourage you and give you hope that no matter where you are in your life, you are not doing it alone...Trust Him!


Part 1 Randy

On the evening of May 26th of this year (2007) I had lost my way. It took 40 years to get to that point but I was at my lowest. I was doubting my worth to my family and friends and really felt they all would be better off without me. What brought me to that point was a lifetime of unresolved issues that had never been dealt with. There was sexual and emotional abuse, abandonment issues and from my earliest memories of childhood I realized that I was different from all the other kids I knew. It wasn’t until late last year that I was found to have Aspberger’s Syndrome. That explained a lot about my behavior but it hit me harder than I expected.

There were a lot of details over the past years that led me to the point I reached on May 26th. Some of them no one should ever have to experience. So I had decided to end my life on that day.

I did not grow up in church and it wasn’t until I met my wife 8 years ago that I really found the Lord, but on May 26th I forgot all about Him. That was until I was ready to take my life. That evening I kissed my wife and kids goodnight then went upstairs and asked God to forgive me for what I was about to do. I then ingested enough ant-freeze to kill myself. On May 27th I had died - twice.


Part 2 Robin

It was Sunday morning, May 27, 2007, about 10 AM. My husband had been violently ill during the night. The last time we spoke was around 3 AM. He said he thought he had the flu. I was fixing breakfast for our children. Our six-year-old son was on the computer. Our three-year-old daughter came from upstairs. She came into the kitchen with concern in her voice. Daddy was sick. I asked her where he was when I heard a thud come from upstairs. Running up the stairs, calling his name as I went, I came to an abrupt halt at our son’s bedroom door. My husband lay sprawled on the floor. He was trying to get up but his body was not cooperating. I kept calling his name as I tried to help him. The look in his eyes told me all I needed to know. Pupils, fixed and dilated, unable to speak, only groan, I knew it was bad. I called 911. It seemed like an eternity. The paramedics arrived. I heard “possible stroke.” I thought to myself, “okay, stroke I can deal with.” I work in a skilled nursing facility and stroke patients were familiar to me. They rushed Randy into an ambulance and sped to Johnston-Willis Hospital. I started calling family and friends to see if someone could watch the children. Everyone was in church, which is where we would have been that Sunday morning. I finally found some close friends who came immediately to pick up the children. I called my mother in law in San Antonio, Texas. “Mom, Randy is on his way to the hospital, they think it might be a stroke.” I told her I would call her from the hospital when I knew more. Still in a state of shock, I headed to Johnston-Willis and I prayed.

Upon my arrival at the hospital, I was escorted into the E.R. by a very kind and understanding nurse. The paramedics were finishing up and standing near Randy’s E.R. room. I could tell by the look on their faces that all was not well. Randy’s room looked like it had been ransacked. Unfamiliar equipment and “tools” were everywhere. The E.R. doctor introduced himself and asked me if Randy drank alcohol. “No” was my reply. He did not drink at all to my knowledge. About this time they were returning Randy from having a CAT scan. I did not recognize this man as my husband. He was pale and lifeless with I.V.’s and tubes and even worse, he was on a ventilator. I knew that being on a ventilator was an indication that he was in critical condition. The E.R. doctor then advised me that Randy had “died” on his way into the hospital and that they had resuscitated him, but it did not look good. I called my mother in law in Texas and I told her “you need to come. I don’t think that the doctor’s think he is going to make it. He is on a ventilator” She was on a plane from San Antonio within the hour. I called our son, Bryan, in Virginia Beach and asked him to come as well. He and his girlfriend Amber packed a few things and headed to Richmond.


Between my phone calls to family members and friends, the nurses and doctors continued to work on Randy, doing every test imaginable. They were kind and comforting, keeping me posted on every move. The E.R. doctor had sent off blood work to MCV earlier in the day and expected the results by 3:00 pm. At exactly 3:02 the activity picked up and machines were rolling into his room. Medical staff surrounded him. Tubes and lines were being placed in his neck. The doctor noticed me standing there and walked over to me. “I am so sorry Mrs. Davis, it is as we suspected. Your husband has tested positive for ethylene glycol poisoning.” “What” I thought. What is that? I do not understand. He explained that Randy had ingested a very large dose of ethylene glycol and that more than likely he would not survive. I went into the room with Randy. I heard that small inner voice say go over and pray in his ear. I listened and I prayed. Then, I cried.

My son and Amber arrived first. The news devastated him. Minutes later his long time friend, Kenny arrived. By now the Nephrologist (Kidney Doctor) was on the scene and not very hopeful. He also was kind but guarded about Randy’s condition. “If he survives, he will probably be on dialysis the rest of his life but his prognosis is not good and his condition, critical.” Randy had been moved to the Atrium ICU. Bryan, Amber, Kenny and I waited.

My son was finally allowed to go see his Dad. I warned him about how Randy would look but you can never really be prepared for something like that. I have never seen Bryan so devastated. It broke my heart to see him in such pain. His emotions were overwhelming. He sobbed, hit the wall and then bent over his Dad and really fussed at him! Randy jumped, the ventilator made a sound I will never forget, and Bryan and I left the room.

Mom arrived next, late in the evening. She had landed in Baltimore Maryland, arriving from San Antonio, and drove the rest of the way. I warned her about Randy’s appearance as well. She made it to the doorway of his room and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh” was all she could say. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. My heart broke again.

That night we all slept in the waiting room. Bryan, Amber, Kenny, Mom and me. We talked, we prayed, we consoled each other, we cried. We tried to understand…

Monday-Memorial Day

Randy made it through the night. He was in a coma, on life support and hemodialysis. Mom and I ran home to freshen up, feed the cats and make some calls. I e-mailed Tammy Burns (from Woolridge Church) and let her know what was going on. (The day before the E.R. nurse suggested we call our Pastor. I couldn’t remember the name of our church or even where it was!) Within no time Tammy called. She was so terrific. She offered support and asked if I would like a Stephens Minister. I told her yes, absolutely. Within minutes after my conversation with Tammy, John Williams was calling and getting things in order. Mom and I arrived at Johnston-Willis. She went in to see Randy. I went to the waiting room. Not long after I arrived, Pastor Greg walked into the Atrium waiting room. Kathy, his wife, was in the ICU with mom. Wow, I could not have been more comforted. Pastor Greg and Kathy, Tammy Burns, John Williams, Lynn Marx (my Stephens Minister) and many people I do not even know offered support and prayer that day that has never stopped.

Later that day Bryan and I went to see Randy in the ICU. Iwas so proud of my son as he leaned over his Dad and whispered in his ear "I forgive you Dad." We had talked about this earlier and we knew that we had to forgive him and that if nothing else, Randy knew this. We believed he could hear us...

Tuesday

My father in-law had arrived late Monday. We all took turns going in to see Randy. We all continued to pray and seek God. We found out that day that Randy had suffered a major heart attack.

There was no understanding of why this had happened, but this was about to change. As I sat in the waiting room of the Atrium I heard “Do notbe afraid” in my spirit. It was so loud that I looked around to see if anyone else heard it. It was then that I realized that God had shared with me about four years ago that something was coming. I had been having an intense conversation with Him as I was painting my sisters house. I was asking him about the trivial trials of life that I was experiencing. No one was home at the time but me and I was really questioning Him about my life. He answered me very strongly and in an audible voice “Daughter, I am teaching you how to pray as there will be a trial far greater than you have ever experienced before but do not be afraid for it will all come out to my glory.”

(To pray? I realized for the first time what "pray without ceasing" meant. It does not mean on your knees 24/7. It means conversing with God on all things, whether in your car on the way to work or in the shower or cutting the grass. Keep Him informed and involved, just as we are all doing on Facebook!!)

From the moment that I heard it I had shared this with my sister and my friend Tracy Swineford. Over the years when trials would come up Tracy would say "Do you think this is it? The trial?" and I would always say No. But today, I knew, this was it!! I shared this word of encouragement with Debbie (Mom) and we continued to pray and seek Him.


Wednesday

We had friends in prayer around the clock. People across the United States, literally. Church prayer groups, Nurses in the ICU. It was amazing!! Even though the Doctor’s still said critical condition, prognosis poor, we continued to trust in the Lord for healing, body, mind and spirit. I started to understand and learn about trusting in God no matter what and my own relationship with Him reached a new level.


Thursday

Prayer continued. Mom and I grew stronger. We were excited about what God was doing. The ICU nurses were praying and amazed that Randy was still there. They all felt like they too, were watching a miracle.
The Hospitalist met with us late that day. He was not as optimistic and suggested we take a week to make a decision as to whether or not we should remove Randy from life support. He said the machines were only supporting Randy, that there was nothing more they could do.

Mom and I continued to trust God. That night Randy started waking up.

Friday

That morning I arrived at the hospital. Randy was a little scary. His movement was not purposeful and he seemed to be having a tough time with all of the tubes. I suggested we turn on the 700 Club to drown out the noise of the machines. I told mom, “Watch, there will be someone on the 700 Club that will have experienced the same thing as we are and they will give their testimony. This will confirm Randy’s healing to us.” There were only 20 minutes left on the show and guess what? Sure enough, there was a young girl with the same prognosis, and everything just like Randy! We smiled.

Mom and I went to the waiting room to write in our journals when she opened up her meditation for the day it was entitled “It is not over, until it is over!”

On June 3, my 43rd birthday, we all gathered together and spent a rainy afternoon in prayer for Randy, the hospital staff, the patients and each other. Our friendships and relationships grew stronger. God continued to perform miracles and show us His grace. The most amazing thing to me was when our six-year-old son said his prayers on June 10th. He said, “God, this is Matthew. My Daddy is still sick. Can you make me 12 years old so I can see him?” Matthew knew you had to be 12 to go into the ICU. That Friday, Randy woke up. On Saturday, Randy sat up in a chair for the first time and Matthew was allowed in to see him. God had answered his prayer and he knew it!

Randy continued to miraculously improve daily. On July 7, 2007, Randy came home and on July 8, 2007 we went to church again as a family.

Part 3 Randy

I didn’t have the bright light experience but I did experience very odd things I have yet to make sense of. Then I woke up to the point that I was aware of my surroundings. And my very first thought was that I wanted to go to church. I didn’t know what I had been through from a medical standpoint like treatments or medications, but I knew to the depths of my soul that God was the reason I was alive.

I had literally killed myself yet God had stepped in and said, “I don’t think so”. Having never met my real father it was at this time that I realized I always had a father; I was just looking for the wrong one. My Father isn’t done with me yet and He definitely has a purpose for me that has yet to be revealed. I felt the love of God like I never had before. I truly felt born again. And I felt free and relaxed and cleansed. It was a new beginning and I was a new person.

From a medical standpoint I had total healing. No heart or kidney damage, no dialysis, no neurological damage, nothing.

Then the depth of the miracle continued. For not only had God restored my life but He renewed my Spirit and healed my relationship with my wife and family. We all were blessed with a fresh start. He has allowed me to face and deal with my past. He reminded me that I have a beautiful wife and three beautiful children that love me more than I ever thought possible. And He left me free from guilt and shame. Although I regret the pain I put my family through I thank God for where He has brought me today, and I thank Him every day for it. That is the most amazing thing to come out of all of this; I now have a relationship with God like never before.


Finally, if you don’t believe in the power of prayer and what God can do in your life and you don’t believe He can perform miracles I am living proof that He can and He does.

Conclusion:

There are still so many details, but you get the picture! Our lives have not been perfect since this experience and we never expected them to be. We are still learning and growing daily. Randy and I did divorce in September 2010 only to have God once again step in recently and shower us both with Grace and Healing. He has restored both of our biological families within two weeks of each other! We still have a long way to go as individuals, as parents and as partners but we will continue the walk and continue to TRUST HIM no matter what...'cause its not over, until its over! Be blessed!

Waiting to Exhale...

It feels like I have been holding my breathe for a very long time. A long deep breathe that causes my heart to race, my palms to sweat and my head to spin. I remember when I took that last great gasp of  air, it was when my first son, Bryan, was born. I was terrified of becoming a mother. I had no clue how to be one and the thought of being responsible for anyone other than myself was quite daunting. I was terribly young and niave and he was so tiny, barely six pounds. He reminded me of a little frog. He was due on Valentines Day but waited a little longer and came into this world  effortlessly on February 18, 1985.  I distinctly remember the very moment  when my beautiful, perfect son was placed in my arms and I fell deeply, passionately, madly in love. My concerns melted away along with my heart. He took my breathe away.

I was adopted as an infant. My birth mother was forbidden by her step mother to keep me. At that time in the early 60's it was quite unacceptable to be an unwed mother. Although my birth mom and dad had planned to marry, life threw some curves and I was adopted from the Children's Home Society in August of 1964. I can not imagine the heartbreak my birth mother experienced. Her love for me was immeasureable.

Growing up I had a difficult relationship with my adoptive mom, the only mom I ever knew. She was a sensitive, loving, talented woman but her insecurities cast a shadow over her life that she could not seem to escape. As she slowly spiraled into a world of alcohol abuse our roles of mother and child reversed and I became the caretaker at the tender age of 14. I was constantly seeking my mothers approval, always looking for a way to engage her in my life somehow. There was a huge void in my heart, the need for my mothers love was so great. I did not understand what I was doing wrong. I blamed myself for her lack of interest in me. I had convinced myself at an early age that I must be to stupid, to fat and to ugly to be loved and accepted by her. What else could it be? At that time I did not realize that it was her past that haunted her and it was her insecurity caused by years of abuse as a child herself that caused the barrier between us.

I became pregnant at twenty years of age, still a baby myself in many ways. I had such mixed emotions about motherhood, never having that relationship I so craved made me feel inadequate. It was during my pregnancy that my mom was diagnosed with bone cancer. It was just a matter of time and I was devastated. Never one to give up easily I continued to seek out my mothers affection or at the very least, a little attention.  As my belly grew I noticed that my mom started calling me more. She started giving motherly advice, she started showing concern for my well being. It was during this time that I started to see a real relationship begin to bloom between my mom and me. I will never forget the day that I was helping her around her apartment. It was late and we were both tired. She was watching me intently, not saying a word, just watching. She had a look in her eyes, one of so much pain. She crossed the room and gently laid her hand upon my belly. Her eyes were moist with the tears she was trying to hold back and she asked quietly "What's it like? What's it like to have a baby in there? I could never carry a child of my own. I have always felt like I was less of a woman because of it, I have no idea what it is like. Can you tell me?" This was the moment I had waited for my entire life, the opening to a long conversation with my mom. A conversation filled with many questions and answers, the one that started the healing process in both of our lives, the one that said I love you and I forgive you.

As I look back I realize that it was my unborn child who initiated the beginning of the healing process in my relationship with my mother, it was my son Bryan that introduced me to a love that I had never experienced before but have been blessed with two more times in my other children, Matthew and Emma and it is my son Bryan who took my breathe away for the first time 27 years ago that inevitably changed my life for the better. I still feel my heart race when I see yet another goal he has reached or get a glimpse of the man he is becoming. My palms sweat when I hear of bad news in his neighborhood, always concerned for his safety. My head spins at the the time that has passed so quickly and I find myself yearning to hold my son at 5, 8 and 12 years old just one more time. He continues to take my breathe away and for that I am truly grateful.

Happy Birthday Bryan
I Love You,
Mom