Having been dealing with neurological issues for over 2 years now, and with the Fibromyalgia diagnosis recently, I have finally yielded in the struggle against my limitations in the arena of movies and video games. Lookit, I hung in there a lot longer than I should have. I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World THREE TIMES in movie theaters, in spite of migraines, dizziness and nausea. And I never even saw the end boss fight with Gideon until a few months ago on a crappy old CRT television. I had always, in the theater and on high def screens, had to cover my eyes.

“Just keep closing your eyes on those scenes,” you say. “Big deal, buy your ticket and quitc’her whining!”. And I do. But, as my eyelids are not light-proof (yet), the flashing battle scenes pulse, muted, through my lids into my noggin and it hurts. Bad. And usually for a long time after.

So I have resigned myself to only putting myself through it in case of extreme emergency, like Harry Potter’s final movie installment. After watching multiple trailers, I decided I was going to have to wait until this one hits the small screen.  But I have been house-bound for the better part of two weeks, and am nesting in our new space. As a result, Chooch saw The Avengers with housemates Phil and Tina on Sunday, after dropping me at a nearby Target.

Guys… I was able to spend their entire viewing time… shopping. This does not sound like a big deal, but bear in mind that I am not driving right now. The combination of my symptoms, medications, side effects and onset of more Fibro issues make it unwise, in my opinion, and I’d rather be hobbled than risk injuring anyone.

Today I got everything I needed for this phase of rebuilding after the sale of our old home, and for preparation for LT’s arrival next month. Yes, I said LT’S ARRIVAL NEXT MONTH! The ticket has been purchased, and we are hoping for a wonderful fun-filled summer with him.

Back in the car after they picked me up from my shopping excursion, I felt a LOT of pain, both migraine and what felt like every joint between my toe nails and my hips. But it felt so good not rushing in an effort to prevent delays for the person driving. And it felt good to feel like I accomplished some things, even if they just moved from one category to another on the to-do list. This has really become a Big Deal for me. I usually hook a ride with people going here or there, and cram all I need to do in a short time.  I invariably forget things and it becomes a hassle, so shopping has become a big stress for me.  Shopping with a 2.5-ish hour timer? Heaven.

Hearing them describe the movie, I was more saddened than at any other point, especially as Tina described how there are some movies you just have to see in the theater for special effects, and I do and always will agree with that sentiment whole-heartedly. I just wish there was also a less-spiffy version for those of us that can’t handle all the special effects and high volume soundtrack at the same time, but would happily spend money seeing it on opening weekend. I have always been willing to ante up for 3D and IMAX when worthwhile? Well, now, I’d pay extra to see a visually muted version. (Insert the “Praise Baby Jesus, it’s not cancer or lupus” mantra here.)

It’s a hard thing to settle for, but I am the mom that had her husband and two sons take her to Iron Man on Mother’s Day, years ago. I miss midnight openings. I miss the kerfuffle.

I kept asking for more details from them about The Avengers, and I became aware that although I was very jealous as a result of my necessary decision, I decided to feel satisfied that I accomplished useful things today. I think this is what “Realizing Your Limitations” feels like.  It’s something I’m supposed to be doing. And, in truth, it’s helping me get through the day, but I sure as hell don’t like it.

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Sorry, Dear Reader, for the delay in posts, but it has been the most exciting/chaotic 2 weeks in the last several years.

First, we sold our house. And it was excruciating up until the moment the buyers signed off, over half an hour into settlement. I’m in the process of deciding whether or not to post some writings I have done along the way, but suffice it to say it stressful.

Second, there has been a blur of time spent in the company of some of my favorite people on the planet, lots of music by my favorite band and more laughter than is good for a throat, if current feel is any kind of a judge.

I was feeling particularly emboldened when I made plans on Thursday to do something completely out of my comfort zone on Friday. And I was anxious, and panicky, but necessity made me strong enough to follow through, thank goodness(?).   I had some particularly strong joint pain, persistent dizziness (I did not take medication as it makes me sleep. Enough sleeping!), nausea and my now-almost-constant fatigue from the pain. I soldiered on, Robot Girl style. *beep*bop*boop*

I had no idea that immediately following attainment of much need help for Chooch’s slumber (blog post, Chooch?), plans would change in such a way as resulting in what was already destined to be a successful and fun day, into a magical, healing and nurturing day. I did not expect such peace and tranquility amongst unfamiliar new friends. I was out in nature, and this was bold because we found yet another tick on me a week or so ago. I’ve eschewed nature since the RMSF diagnosis, deeming it Highly Hazardous to me.

But I ended up in this serene and beatific wooded and landscaped spot in heaven and rejoiced in the choices I made that led me to that afternoon of giggling, beautiful young girls (aka fairies) dancing and playing with flowers and leaves, pausing briefly to study a water fountain as they seek twigs and branches for the bonfire.

And to think, I almost chickened out of what ended up being a once in a lifetime afternoon.

Dorks in Lurve

The funniest part of all this (to me) is that the employee was very masculine and buff, late teens/early 20′s and, in my opinion, possibly on something.

Now, be honest, did we turn into the old version of the couple in “Up” when I wasn’t looking? If so, we best get to travelin’!

Best to get a passport, just to be on the safe side.

************
*Shmoopy Couple is a reference from a ‘Seinfeld’ episode in which Jerry entered into an annoyingly affectionate rela… You know what? If you don’t know the reference, I can’t help you.  I don’t even feel like I know you anymore.

The immense joint pain, which when it is settled into my feet I liken to walking on broken glass when on carpet, is due to Fibromyalgia. I know at least a half dozen people that have it, and the amount of pain they live with is more than a little daunting. These are people whose entire lives are changed by their pain, and it doesn’t matter if they are “good” people or “bad” people or educated people or uneducated. They are Altered. Even worse, their loved ones have to deal with all the complications that goes along with living with someone that has chronic pain.

And let’s not forget that this is another scoop on my health problem ice cream sundae. I have a history of heart disease and diabetes on my Dad’s side. I have breast cancer, arthritis and osteoporosis on my Mom’s side. I have been out of work for the last 2.5 years while doctor’s try and then give up on finding something that can be cured for the migraines, dizziness, fatigue, nausea, stutter, tremors and “brain fog. ” I have TMJ. I was diagnosed with Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. (I say diagnosed in that case because we have no idea how long I’ve actually had it, but it’s believed to be over a year before detection and treatment, when the ideal is within 8 days. I’m still trying to sort out what long-term effects that leaves me open for, although I’m starting to wonder if I should just leave that door closed. Just for now.)

Adding Fibromyalgia to the sundae actually accounts for a lot of symptoms that have emerged in the last six (?) months: joint pain, memory and mental function, tension or migraine headaches (there has been a dramatic increase in both, but I was chalking it up to a medicine change in recent months).

*****************EDIT***************

I just returned from therapy and am adding on to the post I had already started composing. I only mention this because it may have impacted my mood and it may appear abrupt  to you, but many hours have passed since I started this post.

As has happened a few times previously, I had therapy on the same day that something very troubling has happened, the diagnosis whined about above the stars. Well, according to T-Pain (My therapist, and I mean the alias in the kindest way), it’s ok for me to wallow today.  As long as I don’t linger for too long, I can throw myself a Pity Party. After I get bored with that, I will take action as needed to improve things as much as I can.

I have already taken steps there, and am hoping to take my first water aerobics class by next week at the latest. It’s my first little baby step back onto the path to half-marathon training, and even if I don’t make it that far I will, in my own experience prior to this diagnosis, feel greatly improved just by being in motion as often as possible. And if you need any proof that this means a lot to me, bear in mind that means I will be wearing a swimsuit. In public. Me, who’s gained 40 pounds since June of last year.

It just gets more and more awesome the more toppings you put on the sundae, eh? All I know is, if I’d known that my last 5k might be my Last 5k, I would have run like I was on FUCKING FIRE instead of making adjustments to minimize later pains. I would have run like Phoebe on “Friends.”

She also had me do “art therapy” for a bit today, handing me a blank sheet of drawing paper and a box of colored pencils. She drew a vase and told me to fill it with what was inside me. Guys, it was so fun. Even better? She wants me to continue doing it. Daily, using drawing paper, colored pencils or  and nothing but a giant circle as my guide, I’m to fill it in however I feel like filling it in. I think I’m even going to attempt using it as a meditation device.

Even though my Mom was ** an amazing artist, I gave up on myself as one a long time go. My crafts over the years included replicating someone else’s design by:

• stitching tiny X’s,
• using any color I wanted (!) on someone else’s cast pottery and ceramics,
• crocheting, knitting, latch hooking, really any craft involving the knotting of yarn,
• singing along to the radio,
• attempting to learn a song on the bass guitar,
• baking other people’s recipes
• creating the Stargate quilt with my husband.

My instances of artistry are few and far between as an adult: painting one picture, writing one novel, casting and painting some clay to my own odd amusement are the only things that come to mind after a good 5 minutes of thought and a discussion with my husband. He thinks the quilt should be on this list, since we created the pattern for it. I call shenanigans because our sole intent and execution was to replicate the design as precisely as we could within the time and money constraints we had at the time.

But that’s not what this is about. And by silencing the left side of my brain for a while, the right side stretch and move unfettered, possibly even showing me tangibly “what is going on with me” as I deal with all the challenges in front of me/us. It could be useless, or it could be cheat codes to some cool level previously unaware of, that will help me deal with the stresses and minimize their impact on my health.

*crosses fingers*

I have to admit, I’m getting kind of addicted to my epiphanies and changing of core beliefs and all that jazz.

And if you have ice cream cravings now, like I have ice cream cravings, you have Mur Lafferty to blame for it. She mentioned it earlier today and I’ve been craving it ever since. Thanks, Mur!

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**Someday I will not have to backspace to replace “Mom is” with “Mom was”. Although T-Pain might be shooting for that, I don’t think I’m looking forward to it.

That said, it’s been a life-changing experience, more so than any other move in my life except for the move my boys and I made when their dad moved out. There has been as much laughter as there has tears, thanks to an overwhelmingly supportive group of friends, as well as my sons. Without them, Chooch and I would have never made it through this sanely. Well, as sane as we started, anyways.

There is so much about us that is changed, that it is truly a re-birth as we discover who we are and explore our lives and possibilities together.

It is surreal to live so far from my family, but having the housemates I have, along with the insane amount of support and love we share for each other, we feel secure that this is the right place for us.

I would like to thank EVERYONE that has been supportive during this time, whether it was helping us pack, move, clean, vent, scream, cry, laugh, sent a supportive email or message, called or visited. We now know the depth of our friendships with so many people, and are in awe of the mass tonnage of exceptional humans in our lives. It truly is a wondrous thing to know whose heart you reside in, especially when those people already reside in your own heart.

Happy Frakkin’ Tuesday, Dear Reader!

• I can almost always find joy no matter how tough things get. Even when I’m sure I’m surrounded by darkness, there is always light to be found if I squint really hard and tilt my head to the side. It’s very similar to the puppy dog head tilt, now that I think about it.
• Similarly, laughter is always on the tip of my tongue, I just have to give myself permission to lose myself in the moment and experience it.
• I noticed that I could see the search terms that folks use to find posts on my site. It seems I get traffic from folks looking for porn. I credit that to the Vivid company that puts out all the celebrity sex tapes. The grossest search term I’ve seen (so far) is “vividmommy and daughter sex”. Very freaky folks out there, so be sure and keep your eyes peeled for creepers like that.
• In 2011, a very dear friend of mine had a drug of some sort slipped into her drink. We were not at a frat party, and this is something we are vigilant about already. We missed it, but luckily were there when it kicked in and were able to watch over and protect her. Watch your drinks, because rapists are still pulling that crap.
• In spite of recent posts that would lead you to believe that people suck, there are many amazing and loving people in the world. Trust your instincts. You have them for a reason. With that advice you should be able to dodge the douche bags and find the awesome people.
• I am a guilt sponge. I will absorb the guilt and shame of every bad event if I do not guard against it.
• You are never too old to discover soul mates.
• 20 is not the age when you can stop worrying about your kids. I’m starting to think I’ll still be worrying even when I’m in the ground.
• People you know extremely well can surprise you. In good ways and in bad. Learn from the bad, but focus on the good. If they will let you.
• Respect is earned. And has to be re-earned, sometimes.
• I am not in control of the happiness of others. I can do acts of kindness for them, but they are responsible for their own lives. I am powerless.
• Because I am unable to fully embrace the above, I now put the things I cannot control in a red balloon and watch it float away. Even if it takes 10 times.
• Because the above doesn’t always work, I sometimes visualize bb’s getting shot through the aforementioned red balloons.
• The giggles of children is medicinal and energizing. Okay, this one I already knew, but I’m happy to relearn it every chance I get.
• Love is all you need.

Because we are moving to a much smaller living space, we have to do an extensive, two-step purge. Step one gets the house empty, while step two gets our remaining belongings moved out of storage (where the are now) and into our new home.

We are purging as we go, but as the family archivist/museum, I have thousands of photos (not an exaggeration) to sort through and choose which will be digitized and then do so. There are also family items that I will no longer have room for and that my family does not want. Those items I will photograph before selling/donating. Since I’m bearing the time and financial brunt of this process, it is taking a long time. Progress is halted for now as we have to prep for the move.

I cannot express how hard this has been, as it is the first true purge since my divorce. Even so, I am finding boxes that I packed over 20 years ago that need their fates determined. And of course, nearly every box has a ghost or two inside, either of my Mom, grandmother, my kids or my ex-husband. Finding the hand-made calendar that documented the last month of my Mom’s life was particularly hard.

We arrived on Friday night and intended to stay until the house was done. We were approximately 8 – 10 hours away from being done with clearing out and cleaning for the buyers when we finally received a tentative closing date. Instead of the beginning of March, as we expected, it looks as if we may not go to settlement until March 31st.

That revelation sapped our momentum, as it was already 7 pm and we were going to have to work through the night and then sleep a few hours and return to NextHome in the morning. We instead took our third cargo van full of donations and final trip to storage before returning  to our future home and beloved house mates.

After some brief but intensely awesome time with Tiny Expert and Feral Dancer (our housemates’ daughters), I went for my weekly therapy session. It was a great session, and just in time. She continues to support me giving back as good as I get, meaning if I am treated poorly I do not bend over backwards in hopes of getting better treatment. I put a period and move my energies to where they will matter and be appreciated.

If I am treated lovingly, I reciprocate. Now, I continue to do acts of kindness, but have learned that some will never appreciate or reciprocate. And I am getting to where I am fine with that. I know that if that were the sole requirement for my acts, that I would have a precious few to do those for. I allow myself to feel good in doing the act, rather than in holding my breath for any type of acknowledgement from the recipient.

I find that I still have a long way to go with accepting the now long-term limitations that I have. I now acknowledge that I cannot just jump in my car and go run errands, or make plans that involve me driving, or to even be the sole adult when caring for the young and extremely intelligent and active girls I live with for extended periods of time. As a result, it doesn’t ever feel like I contribute enough to those around me, especially my husband. I feel intense guilt when I am unable to do the things that I must do, let alone the things I want to do.

At the end of my session, my therapist always asks how I’m going to be kind to myself / what am I going to do for me every day? I don’t know why I never have an answer ready, and the question always takes me by surprise. I guess that’s proof I still need to go, huh?

All I can do is to continue to work around my limitations, put one foot in front of the other and never stop trying to be a better person. And only I get to define what that means.

*beep*bop*boop*boop*beeeeeyyyyouuuup*

I just finished a four week course of treatment for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever (RMSF). Have I mentioned that? My future housemate and eternal soul sista Jen told me if I were a dog, she would run a tick panel on me. Since I’m not a dog, I asked my doctor to run it and she obliged. Because I have found 2 ticks within the last 2 1/2 years, she went ahead and started me on a four week course of doxycyclene. The test confirmed that I have RMSF and I went back today for a follow-up, since I have had no relief from the joint pain that started in the past few months.

The doctor said that my titer test indicated that I most likely had acquired RMSF over a year ago. She has referred me to a rheumatologist because she believes the extensive joint pain is due to something else going on in my body. I’m more than a little bummed that the joint pain apparently isn’t going to go away anytime soon.

It was during our conversation that she had to fetch my file from her desk. She said it was there so she could discuss it during a meeting with the other doctors in her practice. She thought they would find it interesting. Great, another doctor finds me interesting…

We also found out that our house sale is moving forward and we will allegedly have a date set for settlement soon. We are so excited about this that I very nearly pooped my pants upon receiving the news. Okay, not really. But I did get dizzy and had to wait for it to pass before I could get back into motion.

And after seeing Mur Lafferty tweet “bit.ly/xZDqBY I weep for the future. Who is Paul McCartney?”, I proudly shared the post my 15 year old son made on his Facebook page while watching the Grammy’s last night: “the day Paul McCartney dies will be the saddest day of my life.” I love that my son continues to grow as a music geek, just like me. Our other sons are tremendous music fans as well, and all three have pursued musical interests. Both exes (mine and hubby’s) are also heavily into music and I think the shared obsession has impacted them. And I do, with all my heart, hope that the worst thing that ever happens to LT is that a favorite singer passes away.

Jared Axelrod said I’m amazing (buffs nails on shirt), and then I watched Chooch play hopscotch with our housemates’ 2 year old daughter, nicknamed Feral Dancer. At the end of this day, how can I do anything but smile?

I will endeavor to make it a habit to do all my digitally, and if too personal simply won’t post it. It is exactly what my new life requires of me, after all.

Here’s the skinny: in the last month, my husband and I have come to truly embrace the changes occurring in our lives and to use the opportunities presented to really shake things up.

We have decided to shed the ancient artifacts of our lives, at least the ones that no longer “apply” and only keep the treasured items that mean so much to us that they merit space in our tiny new living space. We had initially decided on paying to store what doesn’t fit in our rooms, but have since decided to simplify. Everything.

For me, this means a hefty purge, and will only be keeping:

• Items we have utilized within the last year;
• Items we wish we had on hand within the last year, since most beloved items have been packed away while the house has been staged to sell;
• Digital representations of beloved items whenever possible, obviously meaning photos, childhood art projects, anything flat OR taking photos of important items that no longer serve us. For example, I have a decorative planter that my mother received when I was born. I have no idea who sent it to her, nor has it seen the light of day more than twice in the last 30 years. With a *snap* of the camera and trip to a donation drop-off site, I will have easier access to the image of this item and someone else can have a planter for a new baby gift on the cheap;
• Streamlining for efficiency of time and space are a HUGE focus of mine.
• For the house, I keep visualizing the micro compact houses. It makes it easier to decide what is extraneous and what is necessary. No, our space isn’t quite that limited, so I’m keeping frivolous and decorative items that I feel enrich my daily experience;
• For my life, minimizing, where I can, situations that stress me out because I typically have to retreat because of the physical impact, creating pain and chaos;
• For my form, it means altering my daily rituals.
• Not having the ability to work currently, I have been toying with two extremes involving my hair that will minimize the upkeep time – dreadlocks or cutting off all my hair. The hair buzzing will resolve multiple issues for me, including giving me a boost in available time immediately. It will also likely trigger the wish that I had done dreads first, so I will likely do dreads knowing that I intend to buzz them if they don’t “fit” my life. This is becoming more likely as my friend and I plan “Dread Play,” which is playing with my hair and determining if I can live with it. Plus, a friend, Jason, said he would refer to me as “The Dreaded Viv” and I don’t think I can pass that opportunity up! Seriously!
• Continuing my hunt for foods that have a negative impact on me (food intolerance). Peanuts have proven to make me feel terrible. Although I’m not fully satisfied with my testing, to date it appears that I also have an intolerance to gluten and oats. Once I feel more sure, those foods will be banned and only ingested when I decide it tastes better than not possibly being in pain. High cost on that trade off, to be sure.
• The above item, as well as the treatment for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever that I was diagnosed with 2 weeks ago, should allow me to resume exercise. My joint pain has been excruciating, along with another new health issue, making exercise impossible, including walking for long distances. Talk about sucky! This time last year I was training for a half-marathon run. Now I just want to be able to run a mile again!

I have already encountered backlash from this new way of living: one item I offered to others caused them to question how much I valued the persons represented by the object. I was judged harshly, but I decided that it was more important to live the way I choose than to cart around a physical item (that I have a digital representation of) because it satisfied a need in another person. If I cave to the thinking of others, that adds about 10,000 more items for me to retain in boxes in storage. For those that judge, my standard response is either a shrug of my shoulders or a “Suck it up, cupcake.”

This has been the greatest discovery during this ultimate era of change – I find it easier to disregard other people’s opinions and to only do what makes sense for us. And if you think that means we don’t take in other people’s opinions you are wrong. We just won’t do as told out of obligation, but rather if it is the right fit or us. I’m thrilled that my husband and I are embracing this period of change and growth both individually and as a couple. It’s definitely strengthened us, and has given us much enjoyment as we question every “can’t” and “shouldn’t” that we encounter.

We have freedom in ways that I have never before experienced. I intend to make the most of it while I can.

What major changes have you implemented that have improved your life?

Over the years, it has become a month full of emotional landmines, one right after the other. My son LT has flown back to his father’s, the 5th is the anniversary of the death of a dear friend and also the birthday of Chooch’s deceased brother, the anniversary of my mother’s death from breast cancer, and my son’s 15th birthday (won’t get to celebrate with him this year either, thanks to finances) is in a week.

It was six years ago, also a Friday the 13th, that my brother called me and said the words I had feared hearing since her first occurrence of breast cancer in 1991.

I was fresh from the shower, rushing around and getting dressed to stay with my Mom so my brother could go home and sleep after spending the night with her. We knew she was near the end of her life and in clear moments she knew it and was scared. We never left her alone. It was bittersweet that she spent less and less time clear of mind as the cancer had spread into her skull and brain.

I was half-dressed and rushing to the kitchen to make a PB&J to eat in the car on the way to the hospital. I didn’t have a scheduled time to get there, in fact, in hindsight I’m no even sure I was expected that morning. I just felt an urgency to get to her as quickly as I could, waking hours before my alarm was set and bolting out of bed.

The phone rang and I immediately collapsed to my knees mid-stride and started crying and praying. My husband woke up instantly, which never happens, and answered the phone. He then came to find me and wrapped his arms around me on the dining room floor, telling me that she was gone, crying just as hard as I was. (I now have a begrudging smile, because I again recognize that there are no two other arms on this planet that she would want comforting me more than my husband’s. She adored him on sight.)

I knew what the call was (why else would the phone ring at 6:30 am) and immediately went from praying for her release from the horror of her life to begging for her to come back because I wasn’t ready to be without her. I needed her to teach me more, to make me a stronger woman. The kind of woman that could lift a burden from the heart of my children the way she could do for mine. Tirelessly and full of unconditional love. And I mean unconditional, because I was not an easy person to parent. I frequently rebelled, still do, even against myself. But I still needed her and suddenly was unable to imagine life without her presence.

Shortly thereafter, I reflected that to be in the room where your Mother is and know that this body, the one that you had been pampering, comforting and consoling, is no longer your Mother… well, it is the strangest bit of surrealism that I have ever experienced. My Mother was literally 2 feet away from me, but she was no where to be found. Still, I couldn’t help tucking the blankets around her feet as I always did, because they were always cold. I felt a fool when I realized what I was doing, but no one mocked me. Hell, wrapped as deep as they were in their own grief, they probably didn’t even notice.

So the subconscious knowledge that this day was coming, along with all the other anniversaries, good and bad, are what I believe to be my huge sense of being swallowed in negativity. In talking with my therapist about the dates mentioned above, the excruciating negotiation process in selling our home, an devastating ongoing family crisis that I am not free to discuss here (we are fine), frantically packing and selling everything we own without sentimental value in preparation for downsizing to a smaller living space, having a near-death experience with Kaylee and missing another birthday of my son’s – these have all managed to make this a real crapper of a month to get through after the stress of Christmas.

Happily, we have no fewer than four loved ones born in January to celebrate. And we got to ring in the New Year with people that rejuvenate us. Moving forward we also have the unexpected joy of taking part in the daily lives of powerfully close friends, and by extension, two beautiful young girls. This includes watching a dance recital for 3 and 4 year olds that was so magically rejuvenating that I could feel the weight of sadness falling off of me in chunks as we giggled and cheered their performances. I told their father that I wished for a pill that could impart what we were feeling as we watched these vibrant little spirits dance and twirl in front of us. Nearly all of the adults to a one were shiny-eyed watching not only their child, but also being charmed by the other girls, all of them working so hard to be brave with such nervousness and barely controlled frenetic energy. I found that it filled my heart containers to over-flowing and used the memory of the two sisters dancing together to pull me out of a panic attack the next day. The memory is truly powerful and medicinal to this old girl.

The highs and lows of this month, in addition to new health issues for myself and for my husband (we’re fine), have me both hiding and clinging to the people that give me strength, whether we talk about the hard things or the good things going on in each other’s lives. It’s just the being with them, the contact with them, that soothes.

I will go to Arlington Cemetery to take my Mom flowers and will return home to work on the book I am creating in her honor. I will survive the emotional landmines of January as the tough chick she raised me to be. And I will take time to revel in the joyful moments that occur along the way, exactly as she raised me to do.

I will love you forever, Pocket Mom!