I am sitting here at the computer listening to a storm rage out side my window and what I thought I would write about tonight has been replaced. The furry of the storm is echoing in my heart and the feelings I have been wrestling lately are bursting to be released. The thunder resembles my heart pounding out the anger, the rain resembles the tears I have stored up and thus far, for the most part anyway, have been able to hold in. The wind resembles the changing of emotions that seem to rip at my heart continuously.
One thing I am noticing is like my personal storms there are lulls followed by fierce turbulent periods. It is like the storm of Madison raging on. One day I will get an update and see the glimmer of hope that she is finally getting it and is making progress, then the next day or even that night I get another call saying she has lost all privileges until the 27th...no calls, no visits. sigh...where did I go wrong and how do I find my way back? these are not really questions I expect answers for. I wouldn't understand anyway. I am tired. Tired of being the one to deal with the situation. tired of trying to explain this mess to the rest of the children. tired of feeling like I failed her. tired of others feeling the same way.
A dear friend Laura stopped me the other day at church. Her daughter and Madison have been best friends for years. Laura loves Madison and prays for her always. The pain of seeing her interact with Courtney. chat about senior pictures and youth outings. I cried. right there as I watched her beautiful daughter walking away giggling. I cried. I wanted to scream ITS NOT FAIR! I wanted to go get in the car drive to Illinois pick her up and have a do-over. but I know it wouldn't be like that. because my Madison is not like Courtney or any of the other girls. I know this yet I still see her in their faces and feel the loss.
I have been cleaning out the basement this week. Spending some time with Dominique. Some of the memories I have found nestled deep inside dusty old boxes have brought me to my knees. precious pictures of Dad and Dominique....letters written by dad. to me and to my son. letters from far away friends that used to mean the world to me. It is funny when a heart is bruised some people grow and heal and move on. some people stay hurting for ever never feeling the warmth of wholeness again...some people run away, hide, and push those who love them the most away. I would be the 3rd kind of person. I withdrawl and close the doors of my heart. What I have been learning lately is that one day something happens to open that door even just a crack and the pain of those losses is still there because I ignored it and never allowed myself the chance of healing. So among the dust and and smells of old boxes I have been lingering in the memories. Old friends who did not deserve to be cut out of my life but were casualties of my pain. Today while sitting behind a mountain of boxes papers and old photographs scattered about I felt the sadness turn just a bit towards healing. Maybe there is hope in the healing after all. I miss those special people and regret locking them out. We will have to wait and see.
Then just as I was thinking the storm in my heart was about to pass. A new layer was added.
This layer will take a miracle to understand...and to overcome...

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Gramma and me

One day this week in the midst of the storms that have been clouding my heart I made time to visit with Gramma. I love Gramma. She is the most amazing woman I have ever met. Spending time with her was soothing to my aching heart.
At first when we discussed my coming she told me she wasnt feeling well and thought maybe a short visit would be best. We agreed that I would call from the parking lot and see if she was up to it. When I called she said "I am waiting on you young lady!" Of course I hogh tailed it right up to her room. Wher we sat. holding hands. talking. enjoying eachothers company. One of my favorite things about beiong with Gramma is there is never a need for words. We acn sit in each others presence and just "be". andknow that it is ok. No words are necessary. Before we knew it...3 hours had quickly passed us by and it was time for me to go so she could get to dinner. Reluctantly, I hugged her gently and kissed her cheek and went on my way. I wish I could find a way to bottle up the love and peace that lives within the walls of her heart and carry it with me always....

I just have to share this funny story.
Last Saturday was Joy and Luke's wedding. I as most of you know made all the mints and cakes for the blessed occasion.
As usual when I make cakes I enlist the help of my monsters to carry deliver hold etc the baked wonders I have created. So, last Saturday morning as I was finishing up the last minute touches of the wedding cake I ask my boys to go down to the freezer by Dominique's room and get the containers of mints I had made earlier in the week. Obediently they deliver the containers and we begin to load the van...and car of the goodies.
We arrived at the church unloaded and I began to set up the reception hall for the festivities that were to follow the wedding. I stood there thinking to myself...I thought I made more calla lillies I thought I had made 3 trays of roses and 2 of calla lillies. so I ran out and checked both vehicles to find nothing left over. I chalked it up to exhaustion and went about the day.
Fast forward to Thursday this week. I get a text from Joy...I didnt get any mints at my wedding...how sad...do you want me to make you some more? no thats ok.
Fast forward again...to this morning. I am standing downstairs looking for something in the freezer and what do I see up on the top shelf of the freezer??? yup! the missing tray of calla lillies!! So I wasnt crazy or suffering from exhaustion. I really did make 2 trays of them...I send Aunt Cindi a message and let her know the good news. Joy still has mints and they will be good for 3 months so even if Joy doesn't come home for a while they will be here waiting for her. I am not so sure she will want 150 calla lillies but....at lesat they have been found!

Everyday I read this particular blog. Today there was a challenge on it to write your own interpretation of this quote on your own blog. ~Albert Camus~ Freedom is the chance to be better.
I have thought off and on today on these words. I googled Camus, having not recognized the name....found that I have known his words.
I tossed the word freedom around in my mind as I went about the usual Friday chores. What does freedom really mean?
I began by looking up the definition...
it can mean the idea of being free.
noun:the state of being free or act of liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint.
exemption from power and control of another.
unrestricted. unconfined. unfettered...
unfettered....I rolled that around my head a while while I settled the Burrito down for the night. unfettered. not sure why but I like that. so I looked that up too.
free from restraint. release from bonds.
So in order to be a better me...I have to become free. free and unfettered of the self imposed bonds that prevent me from being the best me I can be.
worry.
unforgiveness of self.
feelings of failure.
etc.
after pondering this line of thinking a bit. I realize it is true. One does need to become free of the bonds in their life that hold them back. I will be at the head of that line when it begins to form.
Taking this a step further...in order to be better I think one must do better. do better in the little things you notice that are hindering you. where are the roadblocks in my life? what stops me from being and doing better? Once I acknowledge them then I can deal with them.
I am going to continue to ponder this.

facebook and friends

Funny. I have had this love/hate thing going on with facebook these past few months. I think I have decided. I love it. No really. I love it!
The things that made me hate it are things I can manage. For example. I hate gossipy junk. I just ignore those posts and go on. I hate when people use fowl language, I can delete their potty mouths. Do you see? Manageable.
But the reasons I love it?
Networking is great...Dropz of Hope is growing so fast in part...a small part but still a part to contacts I have on facebook. Yeah for networking!
Family...I have siblings cousins aunts uncles family all over the world. Communication used to happen on holidays weddings and funerals. Now I talk to them all the time we encourage each other and share photos. I love that!
Friends. new friends and present friends we have things in common now in the present of our lives. Our children are growing up together, we go to church or PTA together. Its fun to encourage each other.
Emergencies...Holy cow. I cant think of a faster way to get the word out to people about an emergency than to post it on facebook. People quickly respond and rally together in prayer and support. way faster than the phone that is for sure.
My son is my friend on facebook and when he is Baltimore at school its nice to see what is going on with him so far away from home.
Old friends. sigh. probly one of my favorite things about facebook. Along the road of my life I moved around a lot. Making friends was not always easy for me. But when I made friends we were tight. I moved away from California my junior year of highschool. leaving all my friends behind. It sure has been fun to look them on facebook and if found, see their beautiful families and know they have been blessed!
Then I lived in NJ. I spent much of my senior year sick and in the hospital so I lost touch with many of those friends even before graduation. I was so sick and missed so much school I would of had to repeat my senior year in order to graduate so I opted for the GED and went straight to college instead. Reunions are not something I get invited to so facebook has become my reunion place.
So I have come to the realization that I don't care if some people use facebook to gossip and some have potty mouths...those things I can ignore.
I feel very blessed to have the ability to reach out through space and stay connected to all the special people who along one part of my journey or another have helped to mold me into the person I am today.

dear diary....

Sleep eludes me lately. I have so many thoughts and emotions wandering around in my mind. Conflicting emotions fighting for position and demanding my undivided attention. Keeps me lying awake for hours as I ponder my abilities to make right choices and secure some semblance of a sound mind.
The reality that washes over me as I watch the early morning sun stretch its arms across the sky is that my heart is broken. Yet, I walk through my day hiding. Hiding behind this mask called happiness, covering my failures and brokenness from the world and those around me. But for those who know me. I mean really know me. They can see what lives behind the mask just by looking into my eyes. From the rest I remain in hiding.
As I continue to lay there precious moments sneak in and filter through the clouds that have covered my heart. I find myself smiling. For real. As I ponder the growth and progress that has blossomed in my Amaris. Or, the way the Burrito's cheeks look as if the sun reached right down from the sky and kissed them turning them into bronzed glowing sweetness. Or, the joy I have found in the emergence of a new relationship with my first born, deeper respect and trust has been born between us a special closeness I treasure. I will miss him when he goes back east to school. The pride I feel at the new found maturity and responsibility Isaiah has gained, the celebration of Samuel having a good day, the laughter that spills out of me when Elijah walks into the room.
Then I realize my joy, and the pain and guilt sets in. My mind zooms back to the whirl wind of how we arrived to this murky in between that has become our journey. In moments like these I find myself too weary to even cry. In a speechless moment I am suddenly a tornado of fear and sound. Questioning my every thought and decision and realize that once you step over the threshold~ your life is no longer yours. You spend months even years waiting. Waiting in endless freezing hallways. Waiting in dingy smelly offices. Sitting and waiting on hard, dirty, plastic chairs. Waiting to hear your fate and that of your child. You get scrutinized. ignored. supported (although you feel so undeserving of such). validated (which then multiplies your guilt). admired (why????) scorned. pitied. You do not get to ask. They ask you. You may not tell. You get told.
My mind moves back in time a few months. We are standing at the desk of the admitting clerk of the local ER. One day after I found the carvings in her leg~less than 4 hours after I found her suicide letters~20+ pages of horrific pain and pleadings to end her suffereing~I stand there keeping her image locked within my line of vision while I answer sterile questions and this surreal feeling envelopes me as if I am watching a made for TV movie starring us. I find myself scanning the surroundings for 'sharps' moving anything I see that I can imagine her turning into a weapon to be used against herself.
I hold the vision of her in my mind and ponder the changes. No longer do I see the sparkle of innocence in her beautiful green eyes. She has taken on this listlessness~yet she seems like a fearless warrior plotting out the victory over her next battle against us~the enemy.
We are directed to sit in waiting. More chairs to add to the discomfort of the moment. Soon we are ushered into yet another sterile and freezing room where we are interrogated. questioned. raised eyebrows gazing even glaring at times. Failures as a mother are magnified in such sterile places and leave permanent markings on the heart.
I am flabbergasted as I hear the words falling from the lips of this social worker who was supposed to bring answers and relief and the beginning of healing to my girl. appalled that such idiocracy could be spoken in the presence of a child so fragile.
He sat there in the most normal calm state I have ever seen, as if we were discussing the weather and change of the seasons. He told us. cutting is a normal coping mechanism for the youth of today. That is the way it is. Cutting, suicide threats have become part of their culture. We should learn to understand them and support them.
Numbness washed over me as the realization that we may never find healing for her sets in and takes root in the core of my being. After hours it was finally decided that she should stay for observation.
A nurse escorts us through the back hallways up to the adolescent psych ward. I am surprised to see the brightly colored door that leads to the ward on which she will spend the next week.
A nurse meets us as the buzzer lets us on the floor. She takes Madison right away to get her searched and settled while we are escorted to a conference room to wait. An hour filled with silence passes by and a nurse walks into the room handing me a new stack of papers to fill out and we are promptly escorted back down the hallway to the door. I ask to speak to the doctor. I am shocked to hear that we have no contact with a doctor unless Madison says so. She is her own voice. Reality has just been bumped off kilter. We find ourselves walking in a new reality now controlled by Madison. The craziness of that moment is still baffling to me!
What a roller coaster. I had to force myself to exit the ride down memory lane or I likely would never get any sleep much less accomplish anything today. So I played my new game. And finally I sprouted wings and flew off to a place where I am at peace and sleep finally arrived.
I woke an hour later to greet the day. Stepping into the shower I went through my newly acquired ritual of mentally tucking all the pain and regret deep with in the confines of my heart. Placing my mask of happiness securely around my face and upon exiting the bathroom I am ready to tackle my day.
So dear diary until another day. Thanks for listening to my heart and for not judging me. Love Ang...

a little of this and a little of that

I am sad to report that a great wonderful man of faith has passed away. My best friend Joslyn lost her beloved Uncle Horace this week. It is a great loss for the family and for anyone who had the privilege of knowing this amazing man. When Joslyn's father was killed 16 years ago her uncle stepped up has taken care of the family ever since. My heart breaks for my friend and her family....they are all like family to me for many years Joslyn's family was the only family I had outside my dad and siblings.
I began this week by spending all day Monday clearing up filling out and sending to various places TONS of paperwork, forms, registration, financial aid, evaluations, applications. It seriously took all day. I am so glad to be done.
Today begins the Great house clean out....I am attacking the clutter and mess of this house and praying that at the end of this 2 week period. (I gave myself a deadline) I will have a much more simplified existance and organization will surround me on all sides....ah...that feels good just imagining it!
PLEASE pray for my frinds little boy! Kyle is 10 years old, he is in the hospital fighting...he is a very ill little boy but I believe in the power of prayer and know that people all over the world are praying for him. The test results should be in sometime today. Kyle is in desperate need of a miracle.
Madison has lost all priveleges again. no calls. no talking. ACK! I wish that girl would wake up and get it!!I am so heart sick over her right now I can not even write about it...just please pray for her.
on a lighter note. I signed Isaiah and Elijah up for Spanish camp at Grand View College next week it looks to be a great fun time!
OK. So, I have been wanting an I-POD ever since last winter when I borrowed one from Dominique's friend Scott. I finally got one and do you think my weary old brain can figure out how to load anything onto it???? nope! so ig there is anyone out there willing to give a lesson...i am a little slow but sure would appreciate the help!
That is about all for now...I am going to go prepare a picnic lunch and spend some time in the sunny park with my monsters!