No Bad Days

I saw an interesting sticker on a van this morning in the parking lot at school.  It said: "No bad days".  I've seen this sticker before, but it struck me today that this is what I've been striving and yearning for ever since I found out about the whole Borderline Personality Disorder business.  I just long to be able to face each day with a smile on my face and a song in my heart and to end it the same way.

Not that I think bad things aren't going to happen; while it would be nice if I had met my personal quota of unpleasant experiences, I know there's more to come.  I would just like to be able to confront everything that comes and consistently find the good and let go of the bad.  I'm not asking much, I just want to be happy and I want all my loved ones to feel the same way.

So, I'll keep trying.  No bad days.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Happy Birthday to Me!

I'm a hundred and three

I sort of look like a monkey

but I don't live in a tree!

38 years ago today I came into this world (kicking and screaming, I'm sure!) and I'm terribly glad to be here!  Be extra happy and kind today (just for me) and toast me with a moist chocolate cupcake.  I love you all!

Dietrich - #15

When we first moved here, Chloe was just starting the 2nd grade. That was a very hard year for her; she struggled with the move and making new friends and adjusting to a new and very different school. In her class that year was a little boy named Dietrich. He was severely handicapped and couldn't move or talk much, but he had a smile that would light a room. When the other boys teased Chloe, Dietrich smiled and gave her a high five. Chloe loved Dietrich and would point him out to me and wave when we walked by his house on the way home from school.

Dietrich is now 11, just like Chloe, but unlike Chloe he will always be 11. Dietrich passed away on Saturday and his funeral was today. I know he's been very sick for several years, but I don't think an expected death is any easier than an unexpected one. I keep thinking about Dietrich's mom; how can you bury your child and keep going on? This morning as I watched my 11-year-old child walk away into the cold dark morning the image of another mom watching her 11-year-old child being lowered into the cold dark earth came unbidden. How do you say goodbye, knowing you won't be able to see or hear or touch your child for a long time?

I'm sure Dietrich touched many lives in his short one, he certainly touched ours. As I drove past his house today, I saw his small wheelchair empty and folded, resting on the driveway. It's work is done now that Dietrich has gone home. The world is a little darker today without him in it.

G.G. - #14

This is my Grandma-in-law, Brian's only living grandparent; affectionately known in our house as G.G. (Great Grandma).

She's a few years younger than Grandma T., but she's still pretty old. G.G. has always been a good example to me of gracious generosity and faithful perseverence. She raised a child with Type 1 diabetes (my mother-in-law) fifty years ago when not as much was known about diabetes. She is highly educated and taught elementary school for many years.

G.G. has struggled with health issues the last few years, but she's always glad to see us or hear from us in any way. She even let us come back to her house after Kai threw up a sugar cookie at her kitchen table! And I can always count on Christmas and birthday cards from her and Grandma T. (and Mom, of course).

About a week ago G.G. went to the hospital and ended up having heart surgery. Everything worked out okay and she's recovering well, but things like that really scare me and make me realize how fragile life really is. We've lost too many grandparents, G.G. and Grandma T. are just going to have to stick around forever!