Happy New Year! It has a whole new meaning this year, doesn’t it? I should be wishing you a happier and kinder New Year. For those of us that survived 2020, it will go down for me as a year I never want to repeat. It has been a year of loss, stress, isolation and fear. It has also been a year of insight, strength and love. Going into 2021, it is as if we are living in different countries with different rules. Where I live in Southern California, we are going through the worse of the pandemic RIGHT NOW. There is a stay at home order that many people and businesses are not adhering to. Hence, the ICU capacity in SoCal is 0%. Back in Indiana where I am from, life seems to be going on as if the pandemic is completely under control. It is confusing to see people on vacation, while we are afraid to leave our home. Our daughter flew out for Christmas and I still feel a little guilt over exposing her to airport and airplane germs. It was important for us to be together as a family, so she came.
I am encourage by the fast development of the vaccines to fight Covid and discouraged by the slowness of their distribution. I am also concerned with the number of people afraid to take the vaccine due to different conspiracy theories. These vaccines are miracles of modern genetic science and I will gladly take one as soon as it is offered to me!
So, I am entering 2021 the same way I enter the Pacific Ocean to swim. A little bit at a time, getting my footing, checking the current and being sure I am comfortable before I go under water. I have come up with a little acrostic poem for the New Year.
Freedom to move around
Overdue visits with friends and family
Release of the weight of a pandemic in the world
Welcoming visitors into my home again
Actually hugging people again
Relaxing on vacation without worry
Distribution of an effective vaccine
This is my New Year’s wish for the world moving forward. What is yours?
No matter where you live in the world, 2020 had been truly one of the most unusual years in history. On this Election Day of such magnitude, I thought it would be a good exercise to go back over the year and show gratitude for the good that has happened this year among all the strife. It has been proven that showing gratitude everyday makes you a happier person and gratitude can even make you healthier. So here is my list of not only what 2020 has taken from me, but what it has given to me also.
2020 started out as a horrible year even before the words “Corona Virus” were part of our vocabulary. We found out in early January that our beloved goldendoodle Archie had terminal lung cancer. We had to say goodbye to him on January 12th. Archie was my spirit animal and I will miss his gentle loving ways the rest of my life. At the same time that we found out that Archie was ill, we also found out that Kevin was very ill. Kevin was diagnosed with afib in early December and in January we found out it wasn’t just ordinary afib, it was afib where his heart was pumping at only 14% from his left ventricle. This diagnosis, at the same time as losing Archie, almost did us in. God put a wonderful electro cardiologist in our lives that was upbeat and positive that Kevin would be okay with time. God also put the organization Paws into Grace in our lives. Archie passed away peacefully at our home surrounded by love. Even in the darkest storm, I am grateful for the care given by these professionals.
February came around and something wonderful happened. We met a little scamp of a dog that needed rescued. We hadn’t planned on getting a rescue; we had already put money down on a puppy we would get in April. But this little dog stole our hearts and became our beloved Irene. No dog could ever replace Archie, but Irene has more personality than any dog I have ever known. She is loving and naughty and playful and a down right terror. She saved us as much as we rescued her. (She is keeping an eye on the street as I write this to protect me from any invaders!) So while we lost our Archie, we gained Irene. Not our plan, but I am so grateful to have her in our family.
Molly arrived for her two week Spring Break in March, just as the shutdowns for the virus began. We were supposed to have a girl’s trip to Palm Springs, but the hotels and restaurants were closing along with just about everything else. Molly’s two –week trip turned into seven. I am so grateful she was here to go with me foraging for everything from hamburger to toilet paper, since Kevin had to avoid going out while his heart was getting stronger with the medicine he was on. So we lost our trip and our ability to move around freely, but we gained five weeks with our precious daughter. For that I am grateful.
Molly went home the beginning of May and we had to learn how to live with Covid just the two of us. We had been playing games via Zoom with two couples we had become friends with and these friendships began to deepen. When the restrictions started lifting, we spent our summer social distancing at the beach and hanging out on Thursday nights with our new good friends. We are so grateful for these friendships so late in all our lives. To find people you enjoy being with and have so much in common with in your 50’s and 60’s is truly amazing. So, instead of a summer filled with visitors, we had a summer of beaching and a small group of good friends. For that, I am grateful.
I had finally gone to the doctor about the pain in my neck and shoulder. Turns out I have a “frozen” shoulder. I have always held my anxiety in my shoulders and it finally caught up with me. My doctor recommended physical therapy. My physical therapist has been a Godsend in my life. Not only is she wonderful at her job, she has become a friend. I am now seeing her, doing aqua therapy and seeing an Osteopath Orthopedic. I am so grateful for the care and treatments I am receiving to gain back the use of my shoulder without surgery.
August beckoned with Kevin finally undergoing his Ablation for afib. I had not been able to go to any of his pre-op appointments due to Covid, so I had no idea what the surgery was going to be like. They kept saying “procedure”, but this “procedure” took five hours and included the surgeon going through Kevin’s heart wall to treat both chambers of his heart. I spent those hours at home with Lola and Irene praying for a good outcome. I am very grateful for the phone call during surgery to let me know he was doing well and so very, very, grateful for the wonderful outcome of the surgery. While we loss many weeks to worry, we gained the blessing of a healthy heart for Kevin.
September came and we celebrated Kevin’s 62nd birthday with a quick trip to Arrowhead with the dogs. We spent the rest of September enjoying our beach, including trips to Coronado beach with our Doodle Group friends. We have a special bond with our Doodle friends. They took care of us when we lost Archie and they welcomed Irene with loving arms. They “talk” dog like we do and I am so grateful to have them in our lives.
October arrived and after a very long six months, we got to spend a wonderful week with Molly. We kept busy doing things that we couldn’t during the lockdown, including going to the beach three days. We are blessed to have such an amazing daughter who still likes to spend time with her parents!
So, it is Election Day and I have no idea if I am going to be grateful or terrified at the end of the day. This has been an election year like no other and I just hope and pray we make it through as a united country. Even though we have been through a lot this year as a family, so many families have it so much worse. There have been lives lost to Covid. There have been live lost to police brutality. Unemployment has skyrocketed and now there are new outbreaks of the virus across the country along with flu season. I am scared to be honest as I write this, because there is no map where we are going as a country. I have to concentrate on all I have to be grateful for and remember that God is in control. I pray that if you are reading this, you can go back through your year and find some good. Find some gratitude. Give some grace to your neighbor or friend that doesn’t have the same political views as you do. Most of all, remember that no matter what the outcome of the election, YOU have the power to affect change around you. Be grateful for what you have, not just sorry for what you have loss. Be the positive to someone’s negative. Let’s remember we are all on the same team-we are all humans and we ALL matter.
I have just finished writing the second chapter of my book on mental illness in my family. The first two chapters are about my maternal grandmother and my mother up to my birth. Doing this research and actually writing about their lives has helped me to internally resolve some issues I still had with my mother. Knowing what she had as an example for a mother helps me to understand why she did some of the things she did in her life. As the old saying goes, “she did the best she knew how to do.” My question for now is –does that excuse still hold today? Is doing the best we know how to do enough in today’s society? My answer is a firm NO!
My whole reason for writing the book is to help people, both young and old, to come to resolution over the trauma they may have experienced as the child of a parent with mental illness. Does that give the children of the mentally ill a pass to abuse their children in the same way they were abused? This is something that I have had to deal with everyday that I have been a mother. Sometimes it is not easy. Some days it has been nearly impossible. But I offer no excuses. I can and must do better as a mother, wife and human being than my mother did. Why? Because I have resources that were not available during my grandmother and mother’s lives. I have knowledge and the ability to get help, when they did not. I made the CHOICE to get help, not just for my daughter, but also for my marriage and myself. Kevin and Molly will tease me about things I used to do, and I always say,” That was before medication!” We laugh about it now, but it was no laughing matter at the time. Depression and anxiety takes away a piece of your soul that makes you the person you want to be. It leaves you with a shell of yourself and unable to show the emotions you need to show. Especially the emotions of empathy, sympathy, understanding and reason. My grandmother and mother lived most of their lives as shells of the people they really were because of mental illness and the lack of effective treatments. I am so very blessed to have received the help and care over the years that I needed. I am blessed to have a husband who stood by me, and a daughter who was able to forgive me during my awful moments.
I want to take this lesson and apply it to race relations in our nation. I will never know what it is like to be black in our country, but I do know what it is like to be a woman with mental illness. I know what it is like to see your mother quietly suffer with actions she doesn’t even understand why she does them. We all have something in our lives that make us “less than” a whole person in the eyes of others, but skin color? You can’t pick your skin color any more than I could pick my parents. It is what it is. How we react is what matters.
Why are black people seen as less than white people in the United States? It all goes back to one horrible thing-slavery. Some of our white ancestors decided to kidnap black people from their home nations and make them slaves. Why? My only thought is that they wanted to feel “more than” someone else. They wanted free labor. They wanted to rule over someone else to feel “good” about themselves. One of my favorite books/movies is Gone With the Wind”. I love it for the romance and the drama, but I also love it because the slaves get freed and the rich people end up miserable. Even as an adolescent I knew that slavery was a horrible thing.I also love the movie The Ten Commandments for the same reason. God blesses the slaves and brings them out of Egypt and curses the Pharaoh.
I was not raised to be aware of racism. I don’t think my parents even knew any black people. Fort Wayne Community schools started busing inner-city kids out to the suburbs in seventh grade. Until that grade, there had been just two black kids in my school. Unbelievable! But that is what Systemic Racism is-unbelievable. But is happens everyday in this country and it has since the days of slavery.
Why does Systemic Racism continue? Because there are still white people who want to feel “more than” someone else. Instead of doing research and understanding the Black community, they go about their lives doing “the best they can” to accept black people into society. Guess what folks, your “best you can” isn’t working anymore than my mother’s “best she could” worked on me. It is time to DO BETTER! It is time to accept you have failed and need “treatment”. It is time to realize than NO ONE is better than someone else in God’s eye and in the end, isn’t that all that really matters? If you aren’t religious, you are still human and you need to treat your black neighbors as you would your white.
There isn’t enough time or space for me to write about how the mentally ill have been abused in our country. Nor is there enough time or space for me to write how the Black community has been abused. My message is this-we all matter. Black lives, brown lives, white lives, mentally ill lives, handicapped lives, homeless lives, and unemployed lives. WE ALL MATTER! DIG DEEP people and find that part of your existence that isn’t just a shell, but your true soul. Then live your life, your full life and BE BETTER!
I have to admit, I am on the Struggle Bus this week. The two people I love most in the world are facing possible life threatening situations and there is nothing I can do about it. I don’t like not being in control – I think I have mentioned this before. The only thing I can do is pray and I have been doing that 24/7. Let me fill you in.
Molly finally has her dream job. She will be teaching Fourth Grade at a school where teachers are supported and valued. She has a great team to work with and she gets to teach math, which is her favorite subject to teach. The only problem-school start Wednesday, in person, with 23 students in her class. During Covid. She has asthma. Her asthma has gotten much better since she was a child, but she still battles about one bout of bronchitis a year. The school is supplying the teachers with shields and all students must wear masks at all times. But I can’t help but worry. She is MY baby and there is absolutely nothing I can do about the situation but pray. Pray that the precautions taken by the school system are enough. Pray that her students abide by the mask-wearing rule. Pray that no one Molly comes in contact with is Covid positive. When you have an adult child, you pray A LOT because you can’t make decisions for her. You can only pray that God will watch over her and keep her safe. This just feels different because if she gets sick, I won’t be able to go and take care of her. I won’t even be able be near her. Can’t help it-it’s a struggle for me.
Speaking of taking care of people, it just so happens that the day after Molly starts teaching, Kevin is having his ablation done. This is a common procedure to correct Afib and get him off the medication his is taking. Under normal circumstances, I would be at the hospital with him. But we are living in the time of Covid, where you can’t enter a hospital without a Covid test. Kevin gets one Tuesday, me nothing. We have been told absolutely nothing about what I am going to be permitted to do. We are prepared for me to drop him off at the hospital Thursday and pick him up the next day. Again, all I can do is pray. Pray for a successful procedure. Pray Kevin doesn’t contract Covid in the hospital. Pray that I don’t go crazy with worry. Pray, pray, pray, pray.
On top of all of that I am writing a book about my dysfunctional family. I am ¾ of the way through Chapter 2, which tells the story of my mother’s life before I was born. Much of it is based off of memories of the stories she told me and conclusions I have made from my life as her daughter. It is not easy to write unpleasant things about your mother. I have been having nightmares again. Like I do with depression. I have a frozen shoulder because I hold all my tension in my shoulders and I wake up from my nightmares completely tensed up. I have a great Physical Therapist, who has become part counselor to me. She can tell when I have had a rough night.
Here is the strange thing. With all this going on, I feel emotionless on the surface. I am numb. This is not my first rodeo with God testing my faith. I know He is in control and there is nothing I can do about the situations. I have blanketed my fears in faith and it has helped to calm me. I should be going off like “a clay pigeon” as Kevin likes to say, but I am strangely quiet. Maybe accepting that I am on The Struggle Bus and accepting I have no control is a positive. I am not fighting against it-I have accepted it. I have no idea what life will look like a week, month or even year from now, but I am accepting of it. My lack of emotion kind of scares me, because it is so unusual for me. Am I depressed? Maybe. I am under the care of amazing professionals, so maybe being numb is a healthy way to cope. I have no idea.
I know that I am not the only one struggling during this unprecedented time. People are out of work. Families have lost loved ones and don’t have enough food to eat. We are all trying to figure out our “new normal” and no one is enjoying it. All I can say is pray, pray, pray. It is the only way for me to accept the things I cannot control and turn them over to God. If you are a praying person, if you could add one for the McLeasters this week, I would appreciate it. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord.” Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11.
So why do I want to write about my family’s history of mental illness and its effect on my life? After all the responses I received from my last blog, I think many of my generation already know. I need to write about mental illness in families because so many people have lived with it and through it without any help. Children of the 1920’s, 30’s and 40’s were not always parented in a nurturing way. It was tough times for our country- depression, war, death, and despair. Families were just trying to get by with enough to live on. Some children were lucky and had a parent or a sibling that they were nurtured by, but many were just ignored and told to do their work and stay out of the way. Some children, like my husband’s aunt, were even sent to other families to be raised because there were too many in the house. (She was one of nine of a widowed mother and lived with another family during the week to go to school.)
What effect did this have on Baby Boomers? Parents who sometimes didn’t know how to be nurturing parented us. We were sometimes lucky and got one parent with a kind and loving heart (my dad), but many times we got two parents who didn’t know how to nurture and, therefore, we were treated like WE didn’t matter. Ask any Baby Boomer about summers when they were a kid and they will tell you the same thing – “I was told to leave the house and not come back until supper” After supper, you were told not to come in until it was dark. Our parents didn’t know where we were. My parents never even asked me where I was. The important thing is that I wasn’t bothering them.
I didn’t just come up with this idea. I took a class for Early Childhood Development that stated very clearly that you parent in the way you were parented, even if you swear to yourself that you “won’t become your mother”. You can’t help it. It is innate in your psyche. What you can do is make a conscious effort NOT to follow in your parent’s footsteps and be a BETTER nurturing mother or father.
That is what my book is about. It is about my journey to be BETTER. It is my fight against the stigma of mental illness in families. My dear husband’s father battled depression his whole and ended his life with suicide. That means our daughter has familiar mental illness on BOTH sides of her family. This is my battle to let my daughter know that she CAN talk to her family about mental illness. Think how different Kevin’s father’s life would have been if he had received the help available in today’s world WITHOUT the stigma associated with mental illness.
That is the reason for the book. It has taken me many years to get strong enough to write it. I will be reliving many painful memories. But I will also be educating others through my experiences and I will be confirming that you can get better. You can get help. I was in college before I started feeling good about myself as a person. Eighteen years to feel I was worth something. I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through, but I can’t ignore my past. I kept it inside for so many years and it finally exploded in my 40’s. If reading my experiences helps even one person feel more confident about their experiences, then I will have accomplished my goal. If it helps one person to seek help for mental illness, I will be ecstatic. I believe this is God’s purpose for me at this point in my life and I am devoted to doing His will.
Speaking of God, my book will have a lot of God in it. For one reason and one reason only-when no one was there for me, GOD was. My parents did one thing completely right- they raised us with in a wonderful church and instilled in ME (I can’t talk for my siblings) a faith that has never failed me. I promise I won’t be preachy, but this book can’t be written without a strong testament to my faith in God.
I have written the Introduction and first chapter of the book as of today and I am deep into the second chapter. The first three chapters are about my maternal grandmother, my mother up to my birth and my father up to my birth. The chapter on my grandmother is very short, because I know so little about her. This has definitely made me realize that even though we live 2000 miles away from Molly; if she has children we WILL be involved in their lives. I lived 30 minutes from both of my grandmothers and what I know about them I can write on very few pages. So sad for our whole family and the experiences we missed out on.
I am writing the chapter about my mother’s early life and it too has holes in what I know. My mother only shared what she wanted you to know and how she wanted you to know it. I have pictures. I have Ancestry records. I have my memories. I have my TRUTH and it is worthy of being heard. It is a journey that is just beginning. Please join me.
Today doesn’t feel much like the 4th of July at our house. We are not really able to go anywhere because of the crowds. The things we usually do on the 4th like go to a movie and out to dinner aren’t possible. So while I am grateful to be an American, I don’t feel much like celebrating. There is just too much wrong with our country to have a celebration. Too many people are turning a blind eye to Covid-19 so they don’t have to be inconvenienced. So, I decided that today was going to be MY Independence Day. The day I announce that I am writing my memoir. Now, many of you who know me are thinking, she is just an ordinary woman-what does she have to write about. I am declaring my independence from the secrets of my past. The secrets that everyone in my family turned a blind eye to for most of my life- I am talking about mental illness.
It has taken my whole life (58 years) to be confident enough to write this. Those who know me now cannot imagine that I was anything but a confident, intelligent woman with a nice life. Those who knew me in K-12 think, boy she really came out of her shell and made something of her life. Both are true. Both are painful to talk about. Both almost killed me.
My maternal grandmother had schizophrenia. She was a cold woman that I really never knew. It took lots of counseling and lots of self -reflection to realize what her mental illness did to my mother. And what it did to my mother, she did to me. My mother never told me I was pretty. She never asked me how I was feeling about something, even when I was upset. She never put my needs before hers unless she got something out of it. She always gave me the feeling that I had to live up to her standards of the day to gain her attention. I could never talk to her about what was going on in my life, even when I was little. I was taught to be quiet and stay out of the way. My mother could make me feel like the biggest disappointment in her life. There would be times where I would think we were close, and then something would happen that would take months to repair.
Schizophrenia doesn’t just make you “see things”, it controls your emotions to the point where you can show neither joy nor sorrow. My mother was never diagnosed with ANY mental illness, but I know she suffered from many. How do I know? She raised me and I suffer from mental illness. It is genetic and it is brutal. It is especially hard when it is ignored, as it was with my mother. One of her greatest skills was gas lighting. She was wonderful at getting people (including my beloved father) to believe her reality. It isn’t easy being raised by a gas lighter. I never knew what was real. My mother could make me feel like I was worthless, so when I did well in school or someone wanted to be my friend, I didn’t have the self confidence to believe I was worthy.
Things started to change for me after high school. Even though I lived with my parents while going to IPFW, being out in the world and meeting new people made me realize that my family life was not normal. I loved my mother, but I started lying to her on a regular basis in high school. She never knew the real me after about age 17. It was the only way to survive.
I will be writing my life’s journey in and through mental illness. It is a long story filled with pain, anger, denial, love, hate, but most of all; it is a story of resilience. The resilience of three generations of women living with mental illness and dealing with it the best they could. I loved my mother, but she was not an easy person to love. Yet, I wanted more than anything to please her. When she died, there were so many things left unresolved between us. So, here, in my blog, I will be writing about the journey of writing my memoir. It is emotional and heartbreaking at times. More than anything, it is my truth and I finally have the courage to write it. The picture for this blog post I just took. It’s me, sitting on our couch. No make up, just the confidence to show myself for who I am. I hope you will join me on this journey. I have no map for where this will take me. I just know I need to go.
“How are you”, is the first question out of my mouth when I talk with someone these days. In the world of Covid-19, it is the natural question. The health of the world has never been in the forefront of everyone’s minds more in my lifetime. We are dealing with a pandemic that hasn’t been seen since the 1918 Spanish Flu. So, how are YOU doing?
If I answer this question for myself, it isn’t a short answer. It depends on the day, the news, the weather and my family. Everyone is experiencing situations that we never thought we would have to deal with. Not being able to buy toilet paper when you need it? Going to the grocery store and not being able to buy everything you need? Being afraid to be closer than six feet to anyone but whom you live with? Sanitizing everything, all the time? All of this to avoid being infected with a deadly virus for which there is no cure? Some days, it’s just too much to wrap my brain around. Some days I am thankful for the quiet. Some days I don’t see the point of getting out of bed. Some days I have something to look forward to-it’s sunny and warm, we are going for a drive, we are getting carryout food. I do know, that being optimistic has never been more important. I have depression and I can feel it tingling under my skin some days. Those are the days I need to be kind to myself. I need to be a patient with Kevin and Molly. I need to sit in the sun and get rays. I need to go for a walk. Other days, I will spend an hour on the phone with friends or family. Some days it’s housework (not my favorite days) and some days it’s hours of watching mindless television. Some days we play games and laugh. Some days we play games and aggravate each other. EVERYDAY, though, I wake up and know that I am blessed. We are all healthy. We have toilet paper. We are able to get the food we need. We have two dogs that bring us joy. Most importantly, we are together. This morning in my bible study (where we were able to see each other through the wonder of Zoom), one of the ladies said that God is refining us everyday during this quarantine. He is refining us to live with less, count our blessings and turn towards Him, the Giver of all we have.
One of the issues that I have had to turn inward on is politics. I know, my last blog was completely about politics. But the last two weeks have made me realize a few facts. Our country is so divided by politics that we are not focusing on what we really need right now-comfort, empathy and support. I am not a Trump fan and I am not happy with how this whole situation was handled from the start. However, continuing to be angry gets me nowhere. Anger usually stems from fear and fear actually has been shown to lower your immunity. So have I decided to limit my exposure to the things that make me angry and focus more on the blessings in my life. I am limiting my time watching the news. I am limiting my time on social media. I am enjoying being with my family and dogs. I am taking care of my own. Matthew McConaughey posted on his Instagram to please stay home and take care of your own. By doing this, you are actually taking care of your neighbors and even the whole world.
There are brave men and women who can’t stay home. Doctors, nurses, First Responders, grocery store clerks, warehouse workers, scientists working on an anti-viral, scientists working on a vaccine. Factory workers now making ventilators and masks. These are our heroes. Not the politicians worried about the next election. These are the people who need our support and prayers. And yes, I will even pray for the politicians, for them to listen to the experts and act accordingly.
How are you doing? Not a simple question with a simple answer. I pray that you all are well, safe and at home. As for me, I am putting faith in God to bring us through this pandemic with greater appreciation for our lives and our blessings.
Yesterday, I woke up in a very strange mood. I turned on the TV and CBS Sunday Morning wasn’t on and the CBS news I was getting was from LA because the New York studios were closed for cleaning. I just had a feeling that things were changing and changing fast. I was right. Gatherings went from 250 to 100 to 50 in one day. (As I write this, it is now 10 people). We went to Target and the grocery store when we heard that all wineries, bars and brewpubs were being asked to close in California. Molly and I cancelled our trip to Palm Springs next week and rescheduled it to June. We did go out to dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant and got gelato. We practiced social distancing. I ended the day feeling a little more in control.
But this morning, I am mad. I realize I was mad yesterday and I just didn’t recognize the feeling for what it was. You see, if you live in California, you have been living with the Covid-19 virus since the end of January. If you are a supporter of President Trump, you probably don’t want to read the rest of this blog. The following are my opinions and my doubts about the leadership of the country, so readers beware!
When the first Americans were flown home from Wuhan, China, they were flown to military bases in California. This was the last week of January. I remember thinking to myself, why is this not making more of a headline? Why does the government think they can bring people into the US with the possibility of a deadly disease with no vaccine and it’s not going to spread in the U.S.? I became complacent because the government was complacent. The news continued to be bad about the virus, all bad, but Trump blew it off. “No big deal”, “It’s a hoax”, “Live your daily lives”, all things Trump said in the early days. Of course, social media didn’t help. Our country is so divided by politics, that we couldn’t see this for what it really is – A WORLD HEALTH CRISIS.
How did things get to out of hand? How is the United States of America not prepared for a pandemic of this scope? How did our great nation ignore that our lives were going to change forever?
My answer-it all goes back to Trump and his lack of experience, judgment and empathy for the citizens of this nation. He has been so focused on hate, that this pandemic came up and bit him in the ass. He has cut staff and budget at the CDC and NIH. He seemed to think that this virus could not affect Americans. I got news for you Mr. Trump; this virus doesn’t care if you are rich, white, illegal or homeless. We are all capable of contracting it. AND, you can have the virus and not even know it!!
Why, why, why, when you knew this virus was spreading, did you not order resources (I mean money), to make testing kits? Why isn’t testing available for free for every person in this country? Why isn’t the world working together to develop a vaccine? Again, it comes back to hate and greed.
Not only am I mad, I am disappointed in my fellow humans who felt the need to hoard resources. Who actually needs 96 rolls of toilet paper? Grocery stores aren’t closing folks, so stop acting like 3-year-olds who don’t know how to share! Save some for your fellow humans who need it as much as you do. Why, oh why, did Costco allow people to hoard? Again, the reason is greed. They are making so much money!! Yeah us! Guess what, Costco; your stock is in the toilet just like all other stocks.
Our country has veered so far from our core beliefs. “One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all”. Where is the one nation? We are a nation divided. Where is God? We forget that people seeking religious freedom created our nation. Yet, we want to build a wall to keep them out. Liberty and justice for all?? Liberty and justice for those who can afford it, you mean.
This pandemic will change lives forever. Personally, our retirement just got a whole lot more restrictive. Who knows if we will ever make up the money we have lost in the stock market? Small businesses are going to close. Hourly employees with no health insurance will suffer with no pay and no money to pay for treatment if they get sick. Even the untouchable Disney is losing money. NOTHING will be the same because of a man who cares nothing about the citizens of this nation.
I am mad and you should be too. This nation is better than this. This nation is smarter than this. Was anyone else amazed that Trump, who is in the high-risk category, held a news conference TODAY in a room with more that 10 people? Why the hell isn’t the leader of the free world protecting himself? Because his ego is so big he doesn’t think he can get the virus. Where is your self-isolating, Mr. Trump?
Those of you, who know me, know I have never been a Trump supporter. But this goes beyond supporting a candidate based on your political views. This goes to the very nature of staying the “United States of America” and that is not possible under the leadership of this current president. Please exercise your right to vote and vote for the safety and future of our country. And pray. If you don’t believe in a higher power, you need to now. May God be with us all.
Something happened to me last month. I fell in love, with a dog. Not just any dog, a kind of funny looking rescue dog. I know, I am a dog person; so falling in love with a rescue dog shouldn’t seem unusual. But this love affair started just a few weeks after the loss of my dear Archie, my soul mate dog. I wasn’t looking to fall in love, but you never know what God has in store for you.
It was our first Doodle Romp since Archie had died and we were not sure about going. But our Doodle friends had been so wonderful with their support during Archie’s sickness and passing, we had to go. We had to let Lola see her friends and have some fun.
When Irene’s (then Dixie’s) foster parents showed up at our lunch before the romp, I realized they were there for us. Our friends are directors for the Doodle Rescue Collective (DRC) and I knew there was a mini doodle coming up for adoption. When I first approached the little dog, she was nervous and not ready to meet new people. So, I waited awhile and tried again. I sat on the ground and she warmed up to me. I started talking to her foster parents about her past, and was heart broken that she had had such a rough start. Then, I picked her up and held her in my lap. She curled her head around my neck like our cockapoo Annabelle used to and I was gone. It took a whole second of snuggles and a piece of my heart forever belonged to this little scamp of a dog.
Kevin wasn’t feeling good that day and his grief over the loss of Archie was still heavy on his heart. He didn’t hear Irene’s story, he didn’t snuggle her, and he barely petted her. He just wasn’t feeling it. Not to mention, we had a deposit on a puppy due the end of February. Basically, he thought I was nuts.
I understood his concerns. Our number one priority was getting his heart back to normal rhythm. We couldn’t make any decisions until he was better. We were blessed and his cardio version worked; and that piece of my heart still belonged to Irene.
The DRC is a wonderful rescue organization and we are honored that we passed the application process. I had worn Kevin down to at least letting us officially apply. There were several applications for Irene and we offered to do another meet and greet. Kevin was finally onboard with meeting with the foster parents and the puppy again. She had been spayed during our time getting Kevin’s heart better and she was ready to be adopted.
Last Saturday, the day after Irene turned one-year-old, her wonderful foster parents came to our house and spent two hours letting Irene get to know us and Lola. It didn’t start out well. Our sweet Lola, who hasn’t a mean bone in her body, didn’t like Irene at first. As a matter of fact, she was awful to her. Irene was stressed and I started to wonder if we WERE the right family for her. I can’t say how much I appreciate the patience Irene’s foster parents gave her and us! They worked with Irene and Lola and gave us tips on how to handle Irene’s behaviors. By the time they left, both dogs were calmer and tolerating each other. And Kevin was just as much in love as I was. The foster parents just wanted one more assurance we were the right family. They knew we went to the Doodle Romp every month and they wanted to see how Irene did in that environment.
Let’s just say, Irene is a natural at Doodle Romps. She played and never stopped!! By the end of the romp, our adoption was official!! We signed the contract Sunday and brought her home Monday.
From the moment she came in our door, Irene has been HOME. As I write this, Lola and Irene are lying next to each other sleeping at my feet. Kevin is convinced that I am some kind of dog guru. I know-I just followed my heart.
Last week I “escaped” from my life. Kevin’s heart rate was stable and we weren’t getting along. (If you are retired, you understand.) My dear friends Jennifer and Scott allowed me to invite myself to their new apartment in Phoenix. They just moved to Phoenix right before the holidays and are house hunting. They really didn’t need me in their way, but they welcomed me with open arms and hearts. For five days, I didn’t have to clean, cook, do laundry or be sad with Kevin. It was heaven. Jennifer and Scott didn’t have to let me visit, but that is what good friends do for each other. I will forever be grateful for their kindness.
Kevin enjoyed my time away too. He had friends in San Diego for a conference and got to spend some quality “guy” time. By the time I came home, I wanted to come home and Kevin wanted me home too. Even Lola seemed happier. I think we just needed time away from each other to grieve Archie’s death and get ready for Kevin’s upcoming procedure today.
This week was wonderful. We had bright sunshine and we enjoyed each other’s company. All this week I had a bible verse going through my mind. I finally had to look it up. John 16:33 “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Now, if you aren’t a religious person, you probably think it is silly to have this verse mean so much to me. But knowing that Jesus told us that we will have trouble, but to have peace because He has overcome the world we live in, did just that. It gave me peace to not worry about today.
Today started out a mess. Kevin called to confirm the procedure time because we didn’t receive a phone call yesterday confirming the time like they said we would. At 11:00, we found out we were supposed to be in La Jolla at 11:30. We were still in our pajamas and La Jolla is at least a 45 -minute drive. We got to the hospital at noon. Then he had to wait forever to get checked-in. Finally, they called him back, and then, things went fast. I went to the lobby, texted Molly to let her know the procedure was starting, and then I started to pray. “Please, God, let it work, please, God let it work”. Over and over I prayed. I was still praying when I heard the doctor call “Lori”! His first words were “It worked! One zap!” Such a feeling of peace overcame my whole body. The doctor talked with me for sometime and he even stopped back in to see Kevin after he was completely awake. I thank God for this doctor’s care and wisdom.
Coming home today was so joyful! Kevin has no restrictions except to limit his beer consumption. He hasn’t been able to drink for a month, so I think he can live by this. It could take six to nine months for his heart to get back to full function, but the doctor said, “go and live your life” and that is what we are going to do!
Tonight, we are going to bed with grateful hearts. We are grateful for good friends. We are grateful for each other. Most of all, we are grateful to God for a successful cardio version. It’s been a tough month. One of the toughest. But we made it. We came through the tunnel to the light. Our future is bright.