Word Garden

I’d follow you wherever you go because you go to the greatest places.

I’d breathe the air you breathe because you are so amazing.

I’d breathe rythmically with you because you make the most beautiful music and I want to memorize every note.

I’d follow the sound of the air just to follow you –

You are my breath and you are my soul.

With you…..,

I can breathe.

I have a daughter, however, she is not my maternal daughter and it tugs at my heart that she is not “mine” maternally. She is my step daughter. I hate, hate that word. She is mine –

Almost 30 years ago, I worked for a software company. I worked closely with Jan. Five years into us working next to each other, she got pregnant. I loved the changes in her. She was happy, she was beaming. I loved sharing her experiences of being pregnant with her because I had not had children yet. The day she gave birth, I rushed to the hospital. It was an emergency delivery and Jan had heart issues. They delivered Lauren successfully. Jan seemed fine. I held her daughter, Lauren. I felt so much love for my friend and for her beautiful baby girl. Day turned into night as I stayed in her room holding Lauren off and on with her. Her husband stayed in the shadows with their 5 year old son. I was estatic to be there; to share this love between Mother and child. Holding Lauren was one of those amazing memories one never forgets.

Jan was released from the hospital after a 4 day stay. The very next night on the eve of Thanksgiving day, Jan went into cardiac arrest in bed next to her husband and baby girl who was sleeping between them. I got a call that night from her husband, Mike. Jan was on life support.

The ambulance was called. Mike had administered CPR. The first responders used the paddles and finally awakened her heart. But, not before 20 minutes of a lack of oxygen had affected her brain. My friend had slipped into and deep coma. Almost no brain waves. The neurologist said there was no hope. We all gathered in the waiting room in a deep disbelief. I wanted to just hold my friend. I wanted to talk to her and hear her words. But, she couldn’t speak. Her eyes closed, her hands clenched into dainty fists. The beeping of the machines attached to her, the tubes coming in and out of her, the lights from the machines keeping her alive sounded so threatening to me as I held her hand. I was this empty person sitting next to her.

Night after night for eight months, I visited her every night after work, holding her hand and keeping a daily diary so she wouldn’t miss a thing. I didn’t want her to miss anything. I would tell her about my day, about her precious babies.. Being with her was my soothing balm in such sadness and chaos. I hated, hated all of those tubes and machines hooked to her. I’d brush her beautiful blonde hair and braid it. I’d rub her arms hoping she could feel me. I’d break down when I got home after seeing her.., every single night. I would sit in the bathtub and cry my eyes out so that no one could hear me or see me. I’d have given everything and anything to make all of this go away for her.

So many songs became “her songs”. I was lost. Confused. Obsessed with going to that hospital room every single night. Holding her hand. Seeing her husband showing up night after night with her newborn daughter and son. Writing for her in my diary. I would give this to her when she got better. But, she never got better..

The Doctors finally told us that she wouldn’t ever be “better”. She had lost too much oxygen to her brain. She wouldn’t walk again. She wouldn’t be able to communicate with us.

My entire existence was lost. I felt like a bomb crashed down in a complicated mess. I missed her so much that my heart felt so heavy and weak at the same time.

I never stopped visiting her. I kept the diary. I cried and cried more.

As time moved on in small increments, I felt compelled to care for her children. The love I had for them was unmeasurable. I had to do this for her. There was no question.

Lauren became “mine”. I loved her with this unmatched love. I wasn’t prepared to be a Mom, but, I’d do whatever I needed to do to be her Mom and to take care of her and her brother. I made Jan a silent promise that I’d be there for them.

Lauren is now my pride and joy. I raised her. I was her friend and her confidant because I made a promise to Jan. Lauren is my blessing. She has taught me about patience and love. What an enormous blessing I have been given.

Lauren is now almost 29. Wow. Amazing. I’m so, so blessed. Truly. I couldn’t be more grateful.

Jan is still with us. She is in a care home and Lauren is in contact with her and she includes me in her interactions with her. She remembers me. I can only hope she sees my love for her daughter in every word, in every action, and that she remembers us and our friendship.

Love recalls and forgives.

I miss and love you, Jan..😘

I’m engaged to a wonderful, amazing, complicated and highly intense man. He is OCD and ADHD. When he is involved in something, he is involved 150%. This has led to many disagreements between us. We had a disagreement about his time recently.

Tonight, after a very long day at work, this man called me and said he wanted to take myself, my grandson, my son and daughter-in-law out to dinner. It hits me; this man is so giving, so forgiving and yes, still complicated. I’ve been through an ugly divorce after 16 years of marriage. I purposely stayed single for 7 years after my divorce to focus on my son and getting through the heartache as I tried to grow.

When I met him, he was the kind of man I had never had experience with. He was confident, intense, amazingly intelligent and PATIENT. So patient with my insecurities and my “concrete walls” I had constructed to keep others out so that I could avoid pain. I know I drove him nuts.

Six years later, here I am still with this amazing man. This man who hangs on to me with such a tight grip even though, in my fear, I run from him. He continues to love me and he loves me so unconditionally that it literally amazes me.

I think he’s taken the pen from this writer and has begun to write our future. It’s a story about “staying” through the good and the ugly, because love deserves that.

I have happily given him my pen.

I can’t wait to turn each page.

I hope someone is out there holding YOUR pen and writing a “forever” with you even though you run from love out of fear. Let them take your pen, knock down your walls and make you believe once again.

It

Is

Possible.

He amazes me. He enlightens me. He opens the windows and welcomes the warm sunshine in. He covers me under a ‘wonder’ of who he is and how he sees life. He explores, he twirls, he speaks in an echo, he loves and forgives like no other human being I have ever known. He’s autistic and he is my ‘wonder’ every single time I look at him.

My four year old autistic grandson spends an overnight with me once a week. He and I call these nights, “date night”. We have a special dinner, we read, play and talk about all sorts of things. He has such an awe about the world around him. He studies everything with a magnificent microscope. He echoes every word and sentence that he hears and he repeats each one like a Shakespeare play. I laugh deep belly laughs and he responds with his own deep belly laugh. He reaches for my hand, and for a short while, he holds it. He says, “Grandma, Grandma”, and I always respond with, “Connor, Connor”. I think it’s his way of saying that he sees me and welcomes me into his world.

These date nights with him always, always leave me in such an awe and wonder of him.

Thank you, Connor, for allowing me into the absolute wonder of you..

It’s so good to have you here. I am reaching that point in my life where menopause has peeked up like a pesky, crappy gopher in the soil. It has started to invade my garden and I am certainly NOT a fan! And speaking of fans, I always have to have one nearby! However, my garden has so many delicate seeds sprouting. Seeds of change, seeds of hope and thankfulness.

This is what my little garden is to me. I will always begin my posts with ONE word and that word will have a meaning to what my mind is focused on or what is on my heart for that day. I am going to be real. I am going to be honest. It’s my hope that through this journey you are taking with me, I can bring a smile to your face and find something that connects with you.

Open the gate and come on in…