Friday, November 21, 2014


September 2014
What is the purpose of my life? I have been known to ask that question from time to time. I think all that are human question their purpose. 

"Do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others."  Philippians 2:4

It was these two who taught me that it is not my own selfish desire that is important. But the ability to love and consider others is what really matters in life. You can do this even if you don't believe in God or the Bible. These two have give my life the purpose that I need. Especially now...I selfishly cling to them. They are my reason for getting up in the mornings. The reason I am putting one foot in front of the other. They need me...and I need them! I am thankful that God put these two on my doorstep on December 15, 2008. They are my purpose!!

Has Anyone Noticed?

Friday is when I wander over to Kate Motaung's blog to see what the Five Minute Friday prompt is. Then I wander around some of the other writer's blog for a bit. Then I head back here and open a blank page. And I write for five minutes, without much thought, without much editing. I just let all my feeling pour out through the tips of my fingers. And hope that I don't offend anyone. Or expose myself too much. Or show you that I am really just a weak and grieving woman with a desire to here goes.


Today is the day. I wonder if anyone will notice. Well besides me, I mean. Because I have noticed every second, every minute, every hour since he's been away. Today marks the fourth month anniversary. Four very long, long months. And then again it seems like only yesterday. I ask myself, "how long will you go on counting time this way?" And I don't have an answer. Because I notice in so many ways that he is no longer here with me. I can't hear his voice. Or smell his smell. Or spend time sharing the little parts of my day. I can't close my eyes and see him anymore. I sit and I wait. I'm not sure what I am waiting on. But I wait. And I cry. And sometimes it just hurts so bad that I don't think I can do this for one more day. My throat hurts with the pain of trying to choke back loud, wailing sobs. My chest hurts when I notice he isn't here any longer. 

I don't know where I am on the grief spectrum. And I don't really care. There are days that I feel like I am moving on. That I can do this. That it really isn't that painful anymore. And then I notice that he's gone and it starts all over again. I'm sure that people who come to this blog wish that I would talk about something else. And I have tried. I really have. But this is the real me. This is what I am all about right now. And I am determined to get through this. I want to feel everything. I want to feel the pain. I want to feel the sadness of no longer being a wife. I want to feel the wonder of what being a widow will feel like. I need to feel every single emotion and go all the way through it. Until I don't want to do it anymore. I am sorry if you are tired of reading about it. I don't write this for you. I write it for me. 

I don't know that in the end I will be okay. I don't know when the end will be. I don't know that there is a reason for everything. But I do know that every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day, I notice that he is gone. And it hurts... 


Thursday, November 20, 2014


For almost 34 years my passion was being a nurse. When I was 28 years old I decided to go back to school to become a nurse. It was not my passion at that time. But I needed a way to help raise my boys in a world where expenses were ever growing. I had always found anything medical to
be interesting...even fascinating. But I didn't plan to be a nurse.

And then I started nursing school. Well it wasn't really a nursing school. It was a community college. I have an associates degree in nursing. It was those first few years when it became my passion. When I sat at the side of an elderly lady in the nursing home and she showed me how to quilt. When I watched babies being born. When I stood at the shoulder of the surgeon and watched as he extracted a huge cancer from a man's colon. As I hugged a teenage girl who had just lost her mom to breast cancer. Yes, even when I broke the rules to help a dying man smoke his last cigarette in a world where NO SMOKING now reigned. Nursing became my passion.

This passion led me down a very long road. The road of hospital nursing where so many changes took place that it was hard to stay on top of all of them. The road to long term care where I found my true passion in nursing. The elderly have so much to teach us. All we have to do is listen to them. Give them time. And the attention they deserve.

My nursing career ended with me giving care to the most wonderful patient I have ever had. My own husband. I am glad that I was able to be there, to give back to him all the love and care he had given to me and our sons. I ended my career at an all time high!!

I am grateful to have been a nurse.

Throwback Thursday

Last week for Throwback Thursday I showed you a picture of me with my mom when I was only somewhere around the age of 2. Here I am with her when I am 18. This picture was taken at my wedding shower. Egads, who would get married when they are only 18. Love those glasses mom had on. Fashionable! And that shirt that I am you remember when they were so popular?? LoL, enjoy!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014


This is a chore that I put off and put off and put off. Do you have a chore like that? But today I cleaned the aquarium. I love it when it is clean and clear and my fish is happy. See him up there swimming about? His name is HarlsBarkley! Guess who named him? And hiding in the log down there is a plecostomus. His name is Little Scar. We used to have one that was close to 10 inches long when he died. His name was Mr. Scarface. Hence, little Scar. He is only about 2 inches right now. I need to get some more goldfish to keep HarlsBarkley company. What did you accomplish today?


This is the overview written by Barnes and Noble:

Within Cole Matthews lie anger, rage, and hate. Cole has been stealing, fighting, and lying for years. His attack on a classmate has left the boy with permanent physical and deep psychological damage and Cole in the biggest trouble of his life. To most, Cole seems beyond hope. But when he's offered a chance at an alternative path called Circle Justice, based on Native American tradition, Cole finds himself banished to a remote Alaskan island, where his rage and isolation lead him to another brazen attack. This time, his intended victim is the Spirit Bear of Native American legend—and the clumsy assault ends with Cole mauled nearly to death, desperately clinging to the life he has tried so hard to
Rescuers arrive to save Cole's life, but it is the attack of the Spirit Bear that is the start of Cole's long journey to accepting responsibility for his life and saving his soul.
This gripping, graphic survival story from an award-winning writer paints an unsparing picture of one violent teen and offers a poignant testimony to the power of pain that can destroy and may also heal.

 When Darian and Harley first came to live with us Darian was struggling, much like the boy Cole in this story. He hadn't yet reached a place where he left someone with permanent damage (thank God) but he was lying, fighting, stealing and getting into lots of trouble at school. It was early in his 7th grade year that this book was given as an assignment. He loved the story. I have been meaning to read it for some time and yesterday I downloaded it to my Nook and spent the entire day reading it. The book is less than 200 pages so it was a quick read. I do not have a single doubt in my mind that this book made a big impact on Darian. I did not know this at that time. We were struggling to get him on the right path. Sometimes things are placed in our lives for all the right reasons. I think this was one of those times....Darian is now an up-standing student who no longer fights, steals, or lies (well maybe he still does this some). His life is turned around. I am so thankful that he is with us and had the opportunities he has had. This book is a powerful story. I highly recommend reading it.


These two fill me with love. This is an old picture (1994) Justin was graduating from high school. And I had not yet become estranged from my oldest son. They are as different as day and night. As different as hot and cold. As different as sons can be. I love them both. I wish we could fix this family. That day will come I am sure. They fill me with love and I am grateful for both of them, in one way or another!