Month: August 2012

When my cousin, Kerri, was thirteen years old she passed away.  On Thanksgiving Day she was at my Mom and Dad’s house, and after our big turkey dinner I sat and talked to her.  She was much younger than I was so we weren’t especially close but I remember that talk.

The next day she went into cardiac arrest and was airlifted to Childrens’ Memorial in Chicago.  She remained there until her death in February.  At one point, the doctors told her parents that the best they could do was manage her symptoms as they had no idea what was causing her to continually go into cardiac arrest.

That was when anorexia was just becoming known.  She was teeny tiny for her age so they sent in a psychiatrist to talk to her.  She would have no part of it and would turn her head away from the doctor when she would come in to discuss it.  From the doctor’s viewpoint, this only confirmed that she had been starving herself to death.

An autopsy revealed that she had Freidrich’s Itaxia which attacks and weakens the muscles around the heart.  Her funeral was so, so sad and when it was over my siblings and I all came back to my parents house.  Mom and Dad went into their bedroom and closed the door.  They had been incredibly strong for my aunt and uncle through the months of Kerri’s illness and death and not once had I seen them cry.

All these years later, I think they came home from that cemetery, closed the door and sobbed.  My dad emerged awhile later and said to all of us sitting at the table, “I don’t ever want to hear one of you kids go to a funeral and tell someone to call if they need anything.  Somebody they loved just died.  Their life has been turned upside down and it’s not up to them to pick up the phone to ask for help.  It’s up to us to pay attention and figure out what they need.”   Then he walked back into the bedroom and shut the door. 

I never forgot those words of his.  He meant them and he expected his kids to heed them.

Kerri was so pretty.  Her eyes were big blue saucers and she had the longest lashes I’d ever seen.  Even in the hospital hooked up to a dozen machines, she smiled and whispered and her eyes shone.

She needed so much that was out of the grasp of all of us those many months in the ICU, but if I could have done anything for her it would have been to tell that psychiatrist to leave our girl alone.

I’ve posted this song once before.  I love it.  I could listen to it over and over and over.  Well, I have actually.  Mallie Bee introduced us to this song when she did her first solo to it, and all I can say about that is………….oh my, that girl dances with her whole heart.

The Teacher Girl is starting her school year off on very shaky ground……..over a hundred ELL kids and her only aide is on medical leave for cancer.  She’s had a long week complete with a shoe getting flung at her and somebody else I’ve come to admire has had a long year.

May it get better.

Soon.

We have been addicted to the Olympics.  We usually are, but this year especially so, and Kansas City is ranked #2 in the country for most watched viewers.  What better way to spend a couple of weeks than admiring athletes whose training and dedication combined with power, skill and speed exceed us in every way. 

We had a boy who lived on our block who was Will’s best friend.  His forearms were about half their normal size causing multiple problems especially with his hands.  Everything from unwrapping a popsicle to writing was difficult for him, but his parents raised him as if there was no difference between him and his brother.  They moved many years ago, and every now and then he will show up at our door and the house rejoices at a Kevin sighting.

When he was in 4th grade he had to fill out a get-to-know-you paper on the 1st day of school.  The person he’d most like to be when he grew up?  His friend, Will Fisher.  His teacher had Will the year before and called to tell me that in twenty years of passing that paper out, no kid had ever put another student’s name as an answer to that question.

They were the best of buds and ran the street like little hoodlums.  His parents taught him that nothing he wanted to do was off limits.  His friend taught him how to pee outside so precious play time during summer breaks and after school wasn’t wasted in the house. 

Here’s to overcoming the odds…………and getting by with a little help from our friends.

Sunday is the day The Boy Child packs up his summer and moves back to the bustling metropolis of Manhattan, Kansas.  The Little Apple, although it bears absolutely no resemblance to the big one.  He will be a senior and good Lord, that went fast.  His focus this year will be finishing with a bang, and hopefully work, talent and luck will get him a design job when he’s done.

Next Friday, Mallie Bee moves into her dorm to start pursuing her passion for dance full-time.  Based on her siblings before her, four years from now we will wonder again at how the years have flown.

On Saturday, Mark and I will start a different stage of our life without the daily presence of kids.  The tick of days has been slow through most of those years, and then we blinked and each of them were flinging themselves out the door in a burst of energy and excitement.

I am thrilled and thankful that they have the opportunity to go to college when equally talented and passionate kids do not through no fault of their own.  I tell my kids that all the time.  You have no idea how lucky you are.

But this house that was too small for so many years will feel rather empty without their smiling faces around.

We could all use a little of this as we adjust to the changes before us……………..

Especially me.

When Mallie Bee was just a wee one, her and her friend spent five summers doing synchronized swimming at the local pool.  For $90.00 you could get somebody to Wear. Your. Kid. Out. Every. Morning.  I knew where to spend my bucks.

That’s when I discovered how grueling a sport it is.  Practice every morning and it doesn’t matter the temperature.  Pointing the toes.  Treading water.  Holding your breath and then holding it some more.  Sucking in water and spitting it out.  And don’t forget to smile when you pop out of the water so people think it’s fun.

The grand finale of the season was The Big Show on a Sunday summer’s eve with lights, music, an announcer and a snack bar.  It’s a big deal here in Mayberry.

When it was her last year, we decided to indulge in some pre-show gin and tonics with our neighbors.  The Big Daddy had three, and by the time the show started it was all I could do to keep him from falling off his lawn chair.

After the final routine and thunderous applause from the crowd, there was usually some thank you speeches, but that year there was a commotion on the pool deck.  Oh dear, I think somebody got sick.  The Big Daddy tried to get up to see, but whoa Nellie, he was feeling those gin and tonics.  The Boy Child said, “I think it was Mal.  Yeah, Mom, I’m pretty sure she was the barfer.”    

No, no, it’s not her.  It can’t be her.  Of all these girls here, it cannot possibly be her.

He would not stop laughing and The Big Daddy sat in his lawn chair yammering about The Milky Way and I was steeeeressed.

When it was all over our little mermaid came and got us.  We congratulated her on a great show and she said, “Did you guys see me puke when I got out of the pool?”

Synchronized swimming may look pretty, but when The Hillbillies decide to come out and give it a try you’ve got yourself a shit show.