Vulnerable

 As I tried to talk, the tears came. I hate that. I hate feeling vulnerable and crying on Teale’s psychologist. I want to be strong, share the issues with her in an unemotional way. I hope to get insight and when I’m an emotional mess, I feel weak. I don’t see myself as weak. I hold together through so much, but I do have breaking points where the pain finally hits and I blubber. I had a few of these moments recently. Teale’s moods had shifted and I was feeling fear. Fear that we were going to experience the physical explosions. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to control her in them. So far she hadn’t gotten physical, but the rages were bringing up my PTSD. The triggers didn’t make sense, so the sudden mood shifts brought fear. Fear I couldn’t say anything to her. Walking on eggshells in your own home is exhausting. People who live like this, get it. The not knowing what will make someone blow. The tiptoeing around your words, scared you’ll say the wrong thing. It gives me mental fatigue. The psychologist listened as I cried. As I shared how difficult this all is, being stuck home in COVID with Teale. She thought carefully before responding. Her words chosen with compassion, “You are doing the best you can.” That’s all I needed to hear. Like a child needing praise, I needed validation that I wasn’t the cause of Teale’s unrest. I needed to be seen and heard. I needed a pat on the back. I need to know that someone, anyone, saw how difficult this has all been. So if you are like me, struggling to see the good in these crazy times, just remember, “You are doing the best you can.” 

The Socks

 This morning, with Teale, has been rough. Christmas coming, the realization we are not going to see cousins, maybe she’s not feeling well, sick of COVID isolation, or maybe she didn’t sleep well... The wondering is endless. As Mark often says, “That’s the fun thing about Teale, we will probably never know.” 

I picked a pair of snowman socks this morning for her to wear. That’s what started it. I laid them out, and said, “Aren’t these cute?” Sometimes it feels like Teale  just needs to be mad. I often wonder if it’s some sort of release she needs? After my comment about how cute the socks were, she snapped my head off, and continued to go downhill, even though I immediately said she could have different socks. For some reason, this morning, it hit me how stupid it all is, how frustrating and how I’m just tired. I’m tired of walking on egg shells around her. Not many know the constant stress. The constant waffling in moods. How we can set her off with no understanding why. Was is it really the socks, no... I understand it’s her bipolar, but, like I said, I’m tired. For 22 years we’ve been living like this. We watch our words carefully, our tone is as even as possible at all times, but especially when she’s going downhill. Our getting mad just makes things worse. She will go into a full-fledged rage and that can last an hour, resulting in her biting, hitting, kicking & breaking things... So we stay calm. We try to work through it. We have several strategies; walking away, talking to her, not talking to her, staying close by. Guessing how, and what will help her most in that moment is the game. I told Mark I’m sick of it, she’s 22 years old! Does anyone really understand how much we tiptoe around? Even in good times, it’s a constant struggle to make sure we’re staying even, to help her stay even. 

I just wanted to yell at her, I just wanted to look at her in the face and say ~ “Is this really over a pair of socks?” but I knew that wouldn’t help. So I complain to my husband, who does “get it.” I say I’m just exhausted, 22 years of constantly trying . She is still like a toddler who blows for no apparent reason. I talk out my feelings out loud. It’s no wonder we’re both unhealthy, the stress hormones going through us, at all times, must be intense. 

Mark took over, he worked to get her hair brushed & her different socks and shoes on. He was patient, as she continued to make things difficult. Several times he said, “Tell me when you are ready.” Teale would scream “I’m ready,” but then do the same behavior that prompted “Tell me when you are ready.” It was a game, over and over again, she would be throwing her head around, as he attempted to brush it. She was also trying to hit him, and she threw her shoe, but he persevered. 

The bright side of this is, we are a good team. Sometimes I have the patience to work through her behaviors, sometimes he does. Most of the time, we both do. But, we are human & we have faults. We’ve had times of our own meltdowns. Times we’ve lost it. This morning, I knew I didn’t have patience, so I handed her over. 

I’ve had a lot of long days in Covid, a lot of days of tiptoeing around her behaviors, and trying to stay in an even mood, myself. Maybe I just didn’t sleep well last night, or maybe the stress of Christmas, is getting to me too? Some days you just don’t have it in you. But that is the difference between my life with a special needs person & my life with my typical children. I can’t just tell Teale I’m sick of it and she’ll have to take care of herself today. I will have to pull myself together and persevere. At 22 a typical person’s life is moving forward. This is where we are different. We will be her caregivers for the rest of our lives or her life... which ever comes first. 

22

 22 came & went. It wasn’t unrecognized but it was more low key than usual. Teale was born December 9th, 1998. It was a day I never seem to “get over.” The grief comes & often it takes hold of me before I realize what I’m feeling. This year was different, we celebrated with just us & Beau’s girlfriend. Dinner, gifts, cake, plus many video chats and a visit from my sister & niece. It was “enough,” which if you understand Teale, is all I could hope for. She loves a big celebration, she’s much like me, her soul craves connections to lots of people. I enjoy this about her, she has brought so many to us. 

A few years ago, I just started taking Teale with me anywhere I went. Mark was involved in several bands and playing around town often. Instead of getting a sitter at our house, if the gig was early, I brought Teale along. She loves music, she loves her Dad, she loves being surrounded by friends. It became the norm to have her as my partner in crime. We would head out and listen to her Dad sing and play sax. Often Mark would be gigging with his brothers, this would make it even more special. Teale loves her Uncles & often their wives, friends or their children would also tag along. Seeing family and friends more often, really brought her much joy. Then there are the “regulars,” the music enthusiasts who come to many gigs. The fans who become friends and the friends who become fans. We often would have people at gigs who knew Teale, who knew her story and were kind and patient. Teale loves to be with people who appreciate her Dad’s music and who she could talk and laugh with. 

During COVID, the loss of this has hit us all hard. We miss live music, we miss family & friends. But, in some ways, the slower pace has done us all good. That’s why Teale accepted a lower key Birthday. COVID has brought us many losses, but it has also given us many gifts. A year ago I could not have pictured a Birthday celebration like we had, but in many ways, it was perfect. It was celebrated quietly, with those who know how difficult the journey has been. 

If you ask me what year I have loved in my life, I would say 22. At 22 I married the love of my life and began this journey. Teale will never have the same opportunity, so 22 is tough to swallow. It’s another loss, another year of in my face reality, that her life is somewhat stagnant. She continues to age, but the journey is still the same, Mark and I care for her. 22 for me, was the beginning of a beautiful adventure. My best friend and I growing together as a couple. Teale will never have a relationship like I’ve had, but, she sure has made mine stronger. 

Triggers

Sometimes I feel out of control of my emotions. I can feel angry for no real reason. I believe it’s mostly hormonal and/or sometimes a “trigger” happens & I feel “off.”

Recently, the trigger was Mark’s comment to me. I had worked in the house all day. I felt good about all I had accomplished. One of the things I had done, was to repot many of my outdoor plants for the Winter. I made my powder room into an inside garden. This was my girlfriend’s idea. She knows Winter is tough for me and COVID Winter would be even more difficult. I have loved my gardens, but upstate Winters can be brutal & it’s coming. 

I’m still home with Teale, to keep her safe, we barely go anywhere. Teale’s doctor’s, Mark & I have felt, because of Teale’s medical issues, it is best to not expose her to a lot of people. So, at this time, Teale’s  going to day habitation, has not been in our plan. Therefore, I’m going on eight months home, caring for her. 

Only two weeks ago, she started at a former respite program. I drive her there at 2:30pm & Mark picks her up after his work day. This break has been good for Teale & I. It’s a program I trust because she was in it for several years. The staff is great & she’s with a very limited number of people. She’s so happy to see her friends again! Right now, it is the only program we are comfortable with. Her doctor approved it & we are using this program as a stepping stone to possibly doing more. 

Anyways, I have done numerous projects during this time home because of COVID. I had to quit the job I enjoyed, as a Family Peer Advocate, at The Mental Health Association. But, luckily, because Teale is over 21 years old, I was able to get certified as Teale’s caregiver. The pay has been better than when I worked outside the home. When I worked outside our home, it was difficult for us to stay on top of all of Teale’s needs. Teale’s medical care is on me, she has many appointments to stay on top of. Plus, Mark’s jobs are our priority. We decided long ago, I would support his being the best him in both his day job and the music gigs he got. This meant, my job had to be extremely flexible. I needed days off for school breaks, doctors, or on a whim, just because Teale needed me. 

In COVID, Teale needed care 24/7, for months! I now get paid for 48 hours a week, certainly, it doesn’t cover all the hours I actually do, but it does help our income. With that income coming in, I, at least, feel validated. I care for Teale, I care for the household & I’ve been able to do numerous projects too. We are better organized & a tad less stressed, in that way. Of course COVID stress & being stuck home is different & sometimes intense... 

One thing that has changed, is Mark & my “dating or lack, there of.” Teale wakes me anytime from 4am on. By 8pm, both she & I are fried! She goes to bed & generally, I’m not far behind her. Mark & I used to take advantage of this time. Teale has gone to bed very early for years. Gwenn or Beau could be home with her asleep & we could sneak out, for evening dates! Since it has never mattered when she goes to bed,  because she ALWAYS gets up early, we gave up years ago & just let her go to bed by 8pm. Times we have kept her up late, we have found create a tough next day... So dating, after she was asleep, was an easy way for us to get time together. Another way we would steal time alone was to take days off from work together, while Teale was safely at programs! This way we had all day, we were refreshed and we could do things we enjoyed. 

Nowadays, our days are long, Teale is up early. Mark has consistently worked through COVID, thank goodness! So, I’ve had Teale. 

On a typical night, after Mark (& now, Teale) get home, we have dinner & Teale starts getting ready for bed, with Mark’s help. Then, after she’s in bed, Mark practices his sax for about an hour. I am often “done” by this time & unwind with Netflix or in Summer, watering my gardens. By the time Mark finishes his practicing, I’m generally exhausted. We then, may watch something together, or I may have already fallen asleep. 

The lack of dating has been difficult on my psychological well being, but, with Teale home, it’s not easy to figure out. Not a lot of people would be willing to care for her all day.

We did have one full DayDate, on our 31st Wedding Anniversary. Two, separate, dear friends, job shared the day and watched Teale, From 9am -9pm. It was magical! Then, another time, we took about 4 hours off together. That one, I honestly could barely keep my eyes open for! This is life right now. I feel exhausted most of the time. It’s frustrating, no doubt. Mark would love to take walks or hike together, but on top of my exhaustion, I’ve been struggling with Planters Fasciitis. The constant pain is awful. I do the exercises, I soak in Epsom Salts, I ice, I wear good shoes always, I wear a night brace & it goes away, but, it has also come back. 

Then there’s Marks work. He has had terribly busy days at work. He is one of two supervisors, in a department that used to have five supervisors. 

During COVID, a hiring freeze was put in place. Unfortunately, there were three planned retirements that  happened during this time. I offer this information as validation for Mark, he’s dealing well, with a difficult situation. 

Back to the story; Mark & Teale get home & Mark shuts the window. Our kitchen is upstairs in a raised ranch, so, often it’s warmer upstairs. I tell Mark I’m hot. So he opens the window back up, but says to me ~ “So long as you don’t turn on the heat later.” Immediately, I feel like he’s not treating me as an adult or his partner. It was a trigger for me. Inside I’m pissed. I feel like my work at home isn’t validated. I feel disrespected... all these thoughts go through my head. I manage to calmly say ~ “That makes me feel like I’m back in Nancy’s (my Mom) house. I feel like a five year old, not an adult.” Mark immediately apologizes & that should be the last of it. But, like I said in the beginning. I feel like sometimes my emotions are not mine, they can feel out of my control. 

Mark, never means to hurt me, so, I always try to go back to this thought. I was still struggling with letting this go, yesterday. Often, if I blog it out, that helps me figure out the underlying reasons for my feelings & release them. I think the trigger was a feeling of not being an “equal.” This is on me, not on Mark. 

COVID has been tough on us all. We are all dealing with the isolation from friends & family. Many have lost jobs or had to leave them, to be caretakers. Our lives are different & sometimes, we all feel inadequate. 

The trigger brought me back to chilly nights as a child. My not understanding why my Mom was so against “just turning up the heat.” Mark hit this nerve, which somehow went deeper than it was meant to, by him. The feeling of not having a say, flooded me & suddenly I felt like I wasn’t his partner. I know this wasn’t his intention.

COVID has messed with my psyche. I know life without dating my husband, makes me feel “off.” So here’s to better tomorrow’s. COVID doesn’t seem to be going away, so it is up to me to find the balance & peace, that I need. 

Daniel Prude

He was mentally ill, in a mental break. 

This is something I’ve witnessed in my own daughter. I’ve seen the times she snaps, is out of control, needs patience and time to come back to us...  When I said to Mark, what would happen if Teale raged in public, and the police were called?  His response deeply sad ~ “We are white.” 

The truth of that statement has haunted me for days. He may not be wrong. Teale has the benefit of family, friends and a strong medical community we have built up around her. We would be with her in a public rage. We would hopefully be able to support her and advise anyone who tried to intercede. 

Daniel Prude did not have this support there. He was black and maybe that was why his mental break was treated with force, not empathy? 

My heart breaks for this family, he did not have to die. He should not have died from his mental illness. He should have been helped... 

My heart breaks, not because I knew Daniel, but because I know the pain of mental illness and I know my white daughter, would be treated differently. 

Empathy is all we need to see a person who is struggling, with mental illness, as a human. 

Empathy, sit in that word for awhile. Think about if you would show empathy to a grown, black, naked man in a mental breakdown? Or would you show fear? Be honest with yourself and then, work to be better... 

Rest In Peace Daniel Prude, your family is in my heart... 

Still Processing...

 I woke in a funk. Yesterday still heavily on my mind. We were making brownies when it went down. Teale’s  OCD had kicked in and she needed the spoon clean to mix the melted chocolate & butter. She had already cleaned it, in between stirs, several times. I had ignored the behavior but, she was splattering butter & baking chocolate all over as she cleaned the spoon. I knew this was something she needed to do, but it was irrational. Teale has had issues in the past, when we’ve cooked together, if the spoon has food stuck to it. I knew this was a trigger, something that bugged her deep in her core. So, I was careful how I said it, I tiptoed through my mind to find gentle words and my voice was kind. I used humor and the example of how I cook. “You don’t need to wash the spoon...” was how it began. The rest is a blur, she was immediately attacking me. We went down as I tried to protect myself & her from herself. She threw the bag of flour in the shuffle. Suddenly I was on her, trying to stop her from hitting me, biting me & pulling my hair. What had happened? Why was my simple comment the trigger to this? Her rage was powerful & I needed help. Luckily Mark is still working from home most of the time. He’s hidden away in our downstairs, so Teale doesn’t bug him all day long. I was screaming for him, but he wasn’t coming. Gwenn was home, but her PTSD from all the rages she witnessed as a child, probably was the reason she stayed hidden in her room. Screams for Mark finally working, he barrels up the stairs. Teale has pounded me several times, my shirt is ripped, and honestly I was in shock. It was so quick, like a switch went off. We were having a good time, making brownies for friends who were coming over in a couple hours. As Mark walked into the chaos, he immediately took over. Sending me out of the room to recover. I was a mess, my shirt ruined and my heart broken. Why had this happened??? I couldn’t catch my breath and was sobbing, but this was far from over. She was still out of control, now after Mark. Somehow in COVID, we had finally started to trust, Teale had been so much more stable. We had started to believe the worst was behind us and the sparsely decorated rooms we had for so many years, had become a home again. I had plants, picture frames, favorite things sitting out again. Our living room a beautiful example of my tastes... Mark has always given me freewill to decorate however I wanted. For years the living room was Teale’s safe place. Not much was out, the couches were always solid and could support her in a rage. If we could get her to a couch, often she could soothe herself back to normal. Unfortunately, the new furniture and set up, did not support her in this way. We couldn’t let her into the living room or probably plants would be thrown & my favorite things would be broken. Mark guided Teale to the garage, his thought was to get her outside. Again, stopped by her rage, she was kicking and fighting him. Down she went again, him just trying to keep her safe from herself and protect us and our home. The rage continued in the garage, at least a half hour. Teale trying to break anything she could reach. Screams that could wake the dead, her biting herself repeatedly. It was brutal to witness. My thinking going back to the moment I said ~ “You don’t need to wash the spoon off...” In these moments I cannot explain the heartache I feel. Witnessing my daughter in a full psychotic break over absolutely nothing, is totally an unexplained feeling of deep pain. Mark and I stand at different areas, to protect and quickly move what we can, that she is going after. Her screams bloodcurdling, neither of us touching her, yet she’s screaming ~ “You hurt me! You hurt my foot! I want my hand get better!” She continues to bite her hand repeatedly, us unable to stop it. Witnessing her doing this to herself, breaks me, I look at Mark, wondering if he blames me for this. I know that is irrational, it’s mental illness and brain damage. I usually pray through these rages, yesterday I don’t recall doing that. I was fried, sad and hurt. I just couldn’t believe it all started over washing a spoon... The screams continue and I feel myself start to cry, I’m wondering what neighbors are thinking and honestly I was surprised no one showed up or called the police. The fear I felt, the realization that, if Mark had been at the office, what would have transpired? Teale is bigger than me, stronger than me & in a rage she is completely ruthless. The strength that she has to overtake me is overwhelming. PTSD has kicked in and I’m teary. Fear that this could happen without the support of Mark, I walk from my “post” in the garage, to him, he opens his arms and holds me as I quietly sob. Teale still screaming, but calming. We decide to cancel our friend’s coming over & I go inside to call them. I can’t deny, I’m still shaken. I still don’t understand how I could have done “it better,” differently, so this wouldn’t have happened. Mark soon brings in a calmer Teale & I put her to work cleaning up the bag of flour she threw... it would take us hours to completely clean up the mess.

That evening Mark would put Teale to bed and then come find me. I was outside, still struggling with my feelings. He obviously was too... As he sat down with me, he expressed that he’d been thinking about couple’s who deal with similar issues. He wondered what the statistics would be of divorces &/or putting the person into a group home. He and I both agree that we need Teale to stay in our care. We are fearful of how someone who doesn’t love her as deeply as we do, would react in a similar situation. 

I guess that’s the bright side of it all. Mark and I are a strong partnership. Teale has never “come between“ us. We both just hurt, for her pain... 

The Goodbye

It would be difficult to express how I feel right now. The ending of our journey with Holy Childhood, Pittsford Central School District & Heritage Christian Respite Friends program all came during 2020 Quarantine. Our goodbyes via Zoom are not the ending I envisioned. My heart breaks as I realize we are done and the loss is huge. I am struggling with words, as I try to express and release the pain I am feeling. Tears welled up in my eyes and an emptiness inside. I miss the life we had, I realize that complaining will get me nothing but frustration, sadness and anger. I also know that stuffing my feelings around the losses will lead to me bursting at the seams... So here I am, vulnerable, sharing my most intimate sadness in a situation I never could have imagined. We said goodbye today, not only to the people, but to the dreams we had. We said goodbye to the ending we thought Teale would get. We said goodbye to the pent up emotional roller coaster life has been. The journey has been more difficult than most. I can say that because I have perspective of my other children. I have lived typical. I have lived severe disabilities and the disappointment that this journey has often been. Today was the culmination of a lifetime. Today, I am beyond sad to say goodbye to the life that was supposed to be...  The slow goodbyes are gone, the last prom, the celebrations with friends & family, the ceremonies & the graduation, all gone or uncertain.  The slower pace as we adjusted to our new reality of adult programing  for Teale, is not a reality anymore. Now we hope for adult programs to reopen and Teale will not get the adjustment time we so wanted for her. How empty I feel knowing all those losses will never be. Goodbye to the gradual goodbyes, goodbye to the dreams that my heart yearns to have back... Maybe someday this time won’t hurt so much, but right now, I feel broken by all the losses and all the goodbyes I was not ready to say. 

Forty Seven Days and Counting

Not knowing where I stand in my job has been difficult. The quarantine started on March 14th for us. Teale had a fever for 10 days, so my only focus was her. My job became secondary and I struggled to find the energy to even make a plan with my agency. Admittedly, I was probably avoiding what to do, hoping this nightmare would end quickly.  The frustration of how we would make it through, when we thought the quarantine would only be a couple weeks, was high. Now, we have been in quarantine for 47 days. Forty seven days, unbelievable, who could have ever imagined that this would go on so long? My job has completely fallen by the wayside while I care for Teale. I no longer worry about what to do, because I no longer think I can both care for Teale and work. The slow demise of losses has been the most difficult part of this journey. We’ve lost weeks of normalcy, prom and graduation are cancelled. It’s all so heartbreaking.
My only job now is to help keep Teale stable and happy. The loss of my own identity has been huge. I enjoyed my job & most especially, the people I worked with. To help families who also live in the struggles of mental health issues has given my life, with Teale, purpose.
Sadly, until this ends, Teale is my job.
Unfortunately, Teale’s ability to do much physically is greatly hindered by her CP and compromised right arm. Teale enjoys few activities and getting her to participate is often a huge challenge. She loves being social. She loved being at school and being at her after school program with her friends. That was a life was full of quality for Teale. Being home is difficult and lonely.
Teale has very little understanding why this is happening. The days are long, with little to look forward to. I can easily find many things to do, the list is never ending for me. If Teale would agree to help me, I may be able to improve this time for her, but sadly, she often refuses any mention of a different activity. She has fallen into her own patterns and changing her is incredibly challenging. Often she is on her iPad, listening to whatever song, she is currently stuck on. The irony of that is even tough to swallow. YouTube has an infinite amount of songs she could listen to. Plus, I’ve loaded numerous family music videos for her to watch. Mark’s whole family is talented in music. It is a huge part of our family life. Teale loves her extended family and the music they all create together. She watches the videos I’ve taped both for her & for prosperity, but, she often gets stuck on some random video on YouTube. She sits in the same place of the couch, rocking back and forth, repetitively playing the same song. Suggestions of other activities often get met with anger. She’s quick to switch moods, if God forbid, Mark or I, suggest the “wrong” thing. The challenge of these mood switches is incredibly difficult. All of us have PTSD, as she often gets angry, switching moods unexpectedly. The fear immediately rises in me, I wonder if I’ll be attacked or if she will start throwing things. Will this escalate into a full fledged rage or will it pass? Often we leave her alone, and she will be able to calm herself. Other times it escalates to a place where my fear is valid. She may bite herself to the point of having a horrific bloody arm, that looks like hamburger. It’s something we attempt to stop, but Teale is bigger than me. It’s all but impossible for me to hold her & prevent her from hurting herself or others when she rages. The rages are less often, we have her fairly stable, but they are still always a threat. We live in a constant fear of a switch from content to angry. Teale may never be completely stable mentally. I’ve all but excepted this sad truth. Walking on eggshells, afraid to set her off, seems to be our norm. The quarantine is difficult in many ways, for everyone. I like the saying that we are all in the same storm, but not in the same boat. The difficulty of keeping Teale stable in this, is tougher than I share. The not knowing, if or when this will end, seems to be my biggest issue. So as you look around, be kind, offer support and please know, some of us are really struggling to stay sane... 

An Unlikely Friend

In December of 2005, I remember sitting in church with my family and worrying. I tried to pray, but my heart was heavy. Mark and I had stopped running our in home day care together, because the chaos was too much for Teale. Her mental instability was escalating and in our day care, it felt unsafe to continue caring for others. Starting over was a tough decision at our age, after all we were financially stable. Running our day care was all we had known in our marriage. Mark and I had married in 1989 and had been working together ever since.
In Fall of 2005, we had made the difficult decision to send Mark back to college to finish his bachelor’s degree. We were hopeful after he graduated, he could secure a decent job to sustain us. I was still caring for a few children, but the huge loss of income was hitting us hard. Mark was working as a paraprofessional in our home district, which paid very little, but at least we had health insurance.
So as I sat in the church service, my mind was filled with worry. We had a huge heating bill to pay and our kids had dreams of waking up Christmas morning to gifts under the tree. How on earth were we going to get through this? Where was money going to fall from so we could could buy our three excited children the gifts they hoped Santa would bring?
There were many people in our church who cared deeply for us, but we were not sharing how difficult things were. Mark and I have always had much faith, but on that Sunday morning, I was not feeling hopeful. Faith had gotten us through many tough times, but this time, I was feeling lost. Mark is often known to say ~ “It will all work out.” But, he doesn’t just say it, he believes it. His faith is strong & he truly believes that so long as we have each other, all else will be ok. His love keeps me going in the toughest of times. We have never gone without basic needs and that in itself is more than most of the world. Mark and I wanted the best for our children, as all parents do. Somehow I had to believe it would all work out & our kids would forget these meager times. I knew the gifts were not the most important part of Christmas. I knew the love of our family would get us through this financial crisis. But, even when you are able to rationalize loss, to gain a better future, it is still a struggle in the moment. The thoughts of how my children would feel on Christmas morning, with not much under the tree, kept floating through my head, so I prayed for peace in my heart.
The service ended and as we turned to exit the sanctuary, a member I didn’t know well, handed me an envelope. It appeared to be a Christmas card & she directed me to open it at home. So I put the card in my purse & we chatted a bit. After we got home, I opened the card. It was a Christmas card. To this day I can still see the picture of a lovely dove holding an olive branch. The word “Peace” in beautiful calligraphy, the irony was not lost on me. I opened the card and there inside was was a folded check, in the memo, the words, Merry Christmas. The amount was enough that I knew I could now buy our children the gifts they dreamt of. I immediately called Jean. I explained how I had been praying in church for a solution to our financial stress. Until receiving her generous gift, we were being forced to choose between paying our heating bill or getting the kids gifts. She had given us the freedom to do both. Our new friend explained that she had prayed too and felt a calling to help us specifically. How overwhelmed I felt, knowing our prayers were heard and also answered.
That week I went shopping, I bought a few gifts for our children and something special for our new friend, Jean. Our friendship grew from that day. We would talk on the phone, I would write her cards or letters, we would visit with each other and of course we would chat at church. Jean was an unlikely friend. She had very little patience for children and her family seemed to be sparse. She had been married, but never had children. We became her adopted family and her generosity continued for years to come. Even after we were more financially stable, Jean always gave us a generous gift at Christmas and I would try to find her a gift she would enjoy, usually leaving it, like Santa, at her door.
This past week, our friend, Jean, slipped away from pneumonia. When I received the call, the first vision I had was of a dove and the word, PEACE. Jean was someone God put into our life at a time we truly needed to be reminded of His love. She will always be a reminder that God comes to us in unusual ways. From a stranger, who became a friend, she taught me that faith is real. 

What I Learn

Often parents like me focus on what we can teach our special needs children, but I'm often reminded that I have learned far more from Teale than I have taught. She's taught me to appreciate the little things. She's taught me that a cup of coffee & the silence of the morning is priceless. That hearing the birds sing, shouldn't be taken for granted. She's taught me that friends are not as easy to come by as I once believed and that I should cherish mine with all my  heart. Teale has taught me that when there is a will, there is truly a way. She has taught me letting go & never giving up. Teale has taught me to be thankful for what I have & to be faithful to others. She has taught me to never forget the people I love who have moved on or died. Teale has taught me to believe in the unseen & to trust what my inner voice says. Teale has brought me closer to God & she has taught me love that is unconditional. Teale has taught me hope, faith & love, like no one else.

Grateful & Blessed

I am often reminded how Blessed I am to have Mark as my partner. As we approach the 14th Anniversary of my Mom’s passing, I am reminded of one of those times, he knew what I needed, more than I did. On 4/22/06 we had been to the hospice my Mom was at in the morning with all three kids. My siblings had gathered there to discuss her obituary & funeral service. We knew she was at the end, but we didn’t know how close she actually was. The hospice nurses know the signs when a person is close to passing, so we were counting on them to let us know. After seeing my Mom & having the meeting, Mark & I decided to take the kids swimming at the Y. When we got out of the pool, we discovered several messages that Mom was getting closer to passing & the nurses thought there were only hours left. Mark had recently decided to rejoin a Wedding/Gala Band he had taken a break from because the girls were too tough for me to handle alone. Teale had become quite unpredictable & explosive, so we knew it was a time in our life we both needed to concentrate on our family. As we came out the other side of that stage, we had decided Mark could rejoin the band. The money was decent & Mark needs that musical release. Unfortunately, the very first gig he had agreed to do, was that night. Our neighbors agreed to help with the kids, so I could be at my Mom’s side. Mark, in my opinion, needed to go to the gig. It was way too late to find a sub & it could be several hours before my Mom passed. He could come after the gig. Plus, if you know me well, I was sure I could do this alone. Well, Mark would call the band leader behind my back & tell them he was sorry, but he was going to be with me. I have thought about this, more times than not. Mark was with me as my Mom took her last breath at approximately 10pm. If he had gone to the gig, he would have been in the middle of it. His being with me, was exactly what both of us needed. I can’t imagine not having him at that very difficult & poignant moment of my life. I can’t imagine trying to describe the honor it was to be there next to my Mom. I was so proud to be with him as he said goodbye, he leaned over and asked my Mom to say hello to his Dad for him. Maybe I needed Mark or maybe he needed me? Either way, it was & will always remain one of the most precious moments of my life, when we stood, hand in hand, as my Mom’s soul departed...

Just because...

I often wonder what makes our love special. My answers are always too many to count. If I had to sum it all up though, it’s the little things. It’s the way we are toward each other, the respect of each other. Love comes through respect. The deep, unconditional love is so different from the love of our youth. We let more go, we are not quick to “jump” on each other’s faults and quirks. I know Mark is better at this than I am, but I’ve learned from his example. I work hard at this, quelling the critical voices in my head and trying to remember, always, how forgiving he is. He has loved me through it all. He treats me with a deep respect no other person ever has. He believes in me & he supports me though all that life throws at us. The little things, are the big things, is the lesson I have finally truly learned. Mark still treats me like a woman he is dating, that makes our love special. I’m not his wife of 30 years, I’m his girlfriend, he’s still trying to impress. This is probably the key to the happy relationship we live together. We call each other or text, everyday, just because. Mark still opens doors, he still gets me safely in the car in inclement weather. He blocks me, as we cross the street, like I may walk in front of a car & I can’t cross a street by myself. It’s still funny to me, but sweet and it’s his way of protecting me & showing love. Mark is kind and his humanity of all radiates. I can’t begin to tell you how many times we have been out together & been approached by a person who may be an outcast or have mental illness or developmental disabilities. He has such deep respect for all, people feel that & talk to us. They may just need a listening ear, a person to show care. Mark is as good a human as I have ever known. I’m incredibly proud to be his partner. He makes me want to be better, every single day...