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Posts Tagged ‘individuality’

 

 

My middle child was born on February 29, 1984 (yes, Leap Day).  I know I’ve stated that in prior blogposts, but this year it’s particularly of import to me anyway, because he’d actually have a “real” birthday.  He was one of the select few with that special day as his birthday.  I remember it well also.  He was born by emergency C-section, but he was a beautiful full-term baby.  We didn’t know what awaited us though with his health.  As I’ve stated before, he died on May 30, 2001 from complications of Cystic Fibrosis (CF) a year after a successful double lung transplant at Stanford University in Palo Alto, CA.  The fact that he had CF was a 1 in 4 chance for each child his father and I conceived.  We didn’t know that we carried that gene at the time, because it couldn’t be tested in advance then and it had never appeared in our family.  However, our beautiful 1 in 4 child was born on a day that happens only every 1 in 4 years.  Anyway, he had Cystic Fibrosis, something children that can’t pronounce it have called “65 Roses” over the years.

*~*~*

 

February 2001

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

65 Roses

The Wolverines

When I was just a small child, mama and daddy came to me.

They sat me down and told me of the flowers my sister received,

65 roses in yellow and red, made her so tired she had to stay in bed.

I just couldn’t believe the flowers my sister received

Made it so hard for her to breathe.

Why does she have 65 roses,

Must be her birthday today?

She must have been good to get 65 roses!

Why can’t she come out to play?

65 roses of yellow and red made her so tired she had to stay in bed.

I looked all around, but I couldn’t find

The 65 roses were on my mind.

When I’d grown up, I see that the only one thinking of roses was me,

And the reason that the 65 roses came

Was because I was too young to understand the name.

65 roses!

Cystic Fibrosis made her so tired she had to stay in bed.

65 roses!

Cystic Fibrosis!

I wish she had roses instead.

65 roses!

Cystic Fibrosis!

I wish that she could come out to play.

Life, one supposes, is no bed of roses.

I wish she had roses instead.

I wish she had roses instead.

65 roses.

Cystic Fibrosis.

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

August 1993

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

This post isn’t about all of that though.  I had to mention it however, because I found the song so amazing.  Also, Cystic Fibrosis (65 roses) was part of his life.

This post, however, is mainly about how he lived his life, albeit a short one.  He experienced more and touched more than most people do by the time they die at 80, 90, or 100 years of age.  He endured more pain than most anyone I know, but he enjoyed life to the absolute fullest.  He used to tell me that he didn’t want people to forget him and that he didn’t want them to think he just existed in life but that he truly lived life.  He absolutely abhorred the term “passed away” when referring to someone that has died.

“Mom!  That’s so demeaning.  It doesn’t even sound like they really lived.  They merely existed in life, and then they passed away and through.  Maybe some people live life that way, but when I’m gone, I want people to remember that I lived and that I then died.  I didn’t just exist.  I LIVED!”

This is why this song by OneRepublic is so appropriate to dedicate to him, not only because they have it dedicated to a fan of theirs that has Cystic Fibrosis, but also because, in his own words …

 

 

I LIVED

OneRepublic

Hope when you take that jump, you don’t fear the fall.

Hope when the water rises, you built a wall.

Hope when the crowd screams out, they’re screaming your name.

Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay.

Hope that you fall in love, and it hurts so bad.

The only way you can know is give it all you have,

And I hope that you don’t suffer but take the pain.

Hope when the moment comes, you’ll say …

I did it all!

I did it all!

I owned every second that this world could give!

I saw so many places, the things that I did!

With every broken bone, I swear I lived!

Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up,

And when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup!

Oh, I wish that I could witness all your joy and all your pain,

But until my moment comes, I’ll say:

I did it all!

I did it all!

I owned every second that this world could give!

I saw so many places, the things that I did!

With every broken bone, I swear I lived!

Oh with every broken bone, I swear I lived.

With every broken bone, I swear …

I did it all!

I did it all!

I owned every second that this world could give!

I saw so many places, the things that I did!

With every broken bone, I swear I lived life!

Oh I swear I lived!

 

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

 

February 2001

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

Ask his friends how he lived.  He lived it to the fullest.  Even at a camp held especially for transplant patients, he was all into the camp … and ended up with a broken bone in his ankle … but he lived … and he did it all.  He endured broken bones and a broken heart.  He experienced travelling to visit new places.  He never feared failing.  He owned every single solitary second that his God gave him, be it good or bad.  For that, he will forever be a role model and a hero to me.  If I could just be half as brave and daring as he was, I’ll know that I did life proud.

So on what would be his 8th “real birthday” … or the 32nd year since he was born … I’ll also offer this from one of Celine Dion’s hits … one of the ones that make me remember him so dearly, as he had said once that this made him think of me, how I worked to get the health care he deserved, and how he wanted to dedicate it to me.  That made me cry, because, in my mind, it better describes what he and both of his siblings did (and continue to do) for me.  I am now who I am … because all 3 of my children loved me.

 
  

 

Because You Loved Me

​​​​-as written by Diane Warren

​​​​-as sung by Celine Dion

For all those times you stood by me,

For all the truth that you made me see,

For all the joy you brought to my life,

For all the wrong that you made right,

For every dream you made come true,

For all the love I found in you,

I’ll be forever thankful, baby.

You’re the one who held me up,

Never let me fall.

You’re the one who saw me through it all.

You were my strength when I was weak.

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak.

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see.

You saw the best there was in me,

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach.

You gave me faith ‘cuz you believed.

I’m everything I am,

Because you loved me.

You gave me wings and made me fly.

You touched my hand. I could touch the sky.

I lost my faith. You gave it back to me.

You said no star was out of reach.

You stood by me and I stood tall.

I had your love.

I had it all.

I’m grateful for each day you gave me.

Maybe I don’t know that much,

But I know this much is true:

I was blessed, because I was loved by you

You were my strength when I was weak

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see

You saw the best there was in me

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach

You gave me faith ‘cuz you believed

I’m everything I am

Because you loved me

You were always there for me,

The tender wind that carried me,

A light in the dark, shining your love into my life.

You’ve been my inspiration.

Through the lies, you were the truth.

My world is a better place because of you.

You were my strength when I was weak.

You were my voice when I couldn’t speak.

You were my eyes when I couldn’t see.

You saw the best there was in me.

Lifted me up when I couldn’t reach,

You gave me faith ‘cuz you believed.

I’m everything I am,

Because you loved me.

I’m everything I am,

Because you loved me.

*~*~*

 

 

*~*~*

 

Happy birthday, Keegan!  I love you forever and always!

 

 

 

 

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TGIF!

#strange
#weird
#weekend
#friday
#tgif

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IMG_0468

… they said while smiling sweetly …

 

 

 

 

HAVE A MARVELOUS WEEKEND, EVERYONE.

 

 

 

 

Carry on!

🙂

 

 

 

 

 

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The once Great State of California, for whom I currently work, is truly on the brink of disaster.  It is overly taxed and overly regulated and not friendly to business or to entrepreneurs.  Is it any wonder so many people are now moving out of the once Golden State?  I am a 3rd generation California Girl … and I am truly ashamed of how it has turned into a welfare state.  It’s embarrassing as a citizen of this state and as an employee of this state.  People moved here for freedom and the chance of entrepreneurship.  It is being destroyed by regulation-happy liberals.  If this state is not to go to the same fate as the City of Detroit, people must stand up and do something rather than sit idly by.  My ancestors who gave so much to move here would be appalled by the “gimme gimme gimme” attitude of so many of the people living here now.  Oh, heck, Roy and I are appalled by the “gimme gimme gimme” mentality of today.

What ever happened to good old fashioned hard work and personal responsibility rather than depending on handouts?

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religion & politics

 

 

“… I’m just one of many who can’t get no respect.

Politically *un*correct!

Guess my opinion is all outta style.

Awww, but don’t get me started, cuz I can get riled,

… & I’ll make a fight for the forefathers’ plans.

That’s right,

… & the world already knows where I stand,

… & I’m for the Bible,

… & I’m for the flag,

… & I’m for the workin’ man, me, and old Hag.

I’m just one of many who can’t get no respect.

Politically *un*correct!

Nuthin wrong with the Bible!

Nuthin wrong with the flag!

Nuthin wrong with the workin’ man, me, & old Hag!

We’re just some of many who can’t get no respect.

None!!!

Politically *un*correct!

Politically *un*correct!”

Merle Haggard and Gretchen Wilson

 

 

*~*~*

 

 

What more is there to add?

It’s true … and even the PC fanatics and sheeple of this world that are hell-bent on taking our right to our beliefs away from us and that are against those of us that stand by our principles know that respect is something in short supply for us in today’s society.

 

Guess what?

Roy and I are still proud to be polically “un”correct.

We’ll be proud of that as long as we live.

 

 

 

 

Carry on, all.

 

 

 

 

 

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 “She gets hungry for dinner at 8.  She loves the theatre, doesn’t come late.  She’d never bother with anyone she’d hate.  That’s why the lady is a tramp …  will not dish the dirt with the rest of those girls.  That’s why this chick is a tramp.  She loves the free cool wind in her hair, life without care.  She’s broke, but it’s oke.  Doesn’t like California, it’s cold and it’s damp.  That’s why the lady is a tramp.  She gets far too hungry, baby, to wait there for dinner at 8.  She adores the theatre, however doesn’t get there late.  She’d never bother with someone she’d hate.  That is why the lady is a tramp.” 

‘THE LADY IS A TRAMP’; Frank Sinatra

 

 

i'm different

 

 

No one has ever understood me, as I’ve said before.  I come from a long line of people who the sheeple of this world don’t understand.  That’s ok with me.  I’m happy with who I am and I do ok in life (generally at least).  I may get knocked down but I always come back up, swinging.  Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, will ever keep me down for long.

In any event, I have always had family and friends that laugh at me because I’m different and I march to my own beat.  That’s ok.  I also know that I fascinate them all with how I carry on.  That’s ok too.  All I care about is if my husband, my children, and my mother/father love me and care for me.  They do.  They may not always understand me … but they love me for who and what I am.

 

 

“… My friend, I’ll say it clear.  I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.  I’ve lived a life that’s full.  I traveled each and every highway, and more, much more than this, I did it my way!  Regrets?  I’ve had a few but, then again, too few to mention.  I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption.  I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway, and more, much more than this, I did it my way.  Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew, when I bit off more than I could chew, but, through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out.  I faced it all, and I stood tall and did it my way.  I’ve loved.  I’ve laughed and cried.  I’ve had my fill, my share of losing, and now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing.  To think I did all that, and may I say, not in a shy way!  Oh, no!  Oh, no, not me!  I did it my way.  For what is a man?  What has he got, if not himself, then he has naught, to say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels?  The record shows I took the blows and did it my way.  Yes, it was my way.”

‘MY WAY’

 

 

I think I’ve done ok with my life.  I am a Baby Boomer that was raised a suburban kid.  I went through college.  I got a good degree.  I stopped working to raise my children.  Two out of my three wonderful children had disabilities.  One of them has died.  I’ve been through divorce, major medical issues of my own, financial upheaval, remarriage, relocation, unemployment, and job searches.  However, I have ended up with a pretty darn good job (since I must have a job right now, although I’d sooner not work than have to work, but that’s a different topic altogether) on Capitol Mall in Sacramento, 2 blocks from the State Capitol Building, in a very politically charged arena, and am being promoted quickly up that ladder.  Roy and I have a thriving online marketing business and a mobile disc jockey business.  We live in a terrific rural area, well outside of suburbia and city-life, which is definitely our preference.  Roy has a good new job.  After many years of instability financially, we came out as united as ever, swinging and fighting our way out.  We have, as we both always do, landed on all 4’s.  (Yes, that’s a mixed metaphor and I don’t care.)

 

 

“… & everything’s starting to hum. Still it’s a real good bet the best is yet to come.  The best is yet to come, and, babe, won’t that be fine?  You think you’ve seen the sun but you ain’t seen it shine. Wait till the warm up’s under way … and wait till you see that sun shine day.  You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!  The best is yet to come, and, babe, won’t it be fine?  The best is yet to come!”

‘THE BEST IS YET TO COME’

 

 

Today is my birthday and I love having birthdays … because they are by far better than the alternative of not being here to have one.  I am cut from a different cloth than most people and celebrate my uniqueness … and I’m glad to be married to someone who saw that in me and celebrates the fact that his wife is unique and different too.  As Roy has told me, that’s much of what attracted him to me … and part of why he married me … because he knew he was the same and that way we’d understand each other’s quirkiness.  I continue to do it “my way” and plan on doing it “my way” for some time to come.

Now, admittedly, at times Roy (or those that love me) may get frustrated by the fact that I am not normal, but I can’t and won’t change … and they wouldn’t really want me to do so.  At least someone who truly loves you wouldn’t want you to change.

While I’m not by any definition of the word “young” any longer, my spirit is … and my personality is … and I will live to enjoy my life as long as I can.  Using my love of good wines … my life is like vintage wine, all the way from the brim to the dregs!  I’m still living it to the fullest no matter what happens and no matter how old I am.

 

 

“When I was 17, it was a very good year. … When I was 21, it was a very good year. … When I was 35, it was a very good year.  … but now the days are short, I’m in the autumn of the year, and now I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs, from the brim to the dregs, it pours sweet and clear. It was (and is) a very good year.”  

‘IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR’

 

 

So …

… with that …

 

 

WHEN I WAS 58, IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR, NO MATTER WHAT ISSUES CAME UP!

 

 

AS I TURN 59 YEARS OLD TODAY, I CAN HONESTLY SAY THIS UPCOMING YEAR WILL MOST DEFINITELY BE A *VERY* GOOD YEAR!!!

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

 

 

birthday

 

 

There may be only a few of us “mavericks” around … but Roy (and my daughter) in particular knows this would fit me better than a lot of people who think they know me realize.

 

 

boots and dirt

Roy figured out that this is the way I am …

… and married me anyway …

… and loves me anyway …

… whether I’m in my cowboy boots …

…or …

… on my mountain bike …

… but …

… I do love my boots!!!

 

 

“Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots, and ruined your black tie affair.  The last one to know, the last one to show, I was the last one you thought you’d see there  …   Well, I guess I was wrong.  I just don’t belong, but then, I’ve been there before.  Everything’s all right.  I’ll just say, ‘Good Night!’, and I’ll show myself to the door. Hey, I didn’t mean to cause a big scene  …  Yeah, I’m not big on social graces, think I’ll slip on down to the Oasis, cuz I’ve got friends in low places …”

‘FRIENDS IN LOW PLACES’, Garth Brooks

 

 

While I may have been born into a fairly comfortable life up-front, things haven’t always gone “easy” for me, and I fought my way through.  Besides, as I’ve discussed before … I never fit the mold of “California Girl” or “suburbia” (more like “suburgatory” in my eyes) or “high-class” or “Beverly Hills” or “Hollywood” or however you want to classify any part of me being born in California in the middle of the Baby Boom generation.  I am more in line with people like many of my ancestors  …  7 brothers thrown out of Ireland in the 1600’s and sent to the New World  …  a young German boy who stowed away on a ship in the 1700’s and came to America on his own, never looking back  …  the upper-crust that chose to move to California in the early 1900’s in search of entrepreneurship and a less stifling life  …  a divorced Dust Bowl woman who moved to California with 2 young children  …  Rob Roy  …  or so many more than are listed.

 

 

“I wish they all could be California girls …”

‘CALIFORNIA GIRLS’, The Beach Boys

 

 

I may have been born a suburban Baby Boomer kid raised mostly in California (but not completely … read prior blogs) listening to rock-n-roll music and raised fairly comfortably, but you can’t even classify me by the music I like.  I like Big Band.  I like Classical.  I like Rock.  I like Country.  I like a variety of other things.  I’ll credit my mommy and my daddy for giving me a wide foundation in music.  (I just don’t like rap.)  Don’t try to classify me.  It won’t work.  Probably the closest is this:

 

 

“I am a red, white, and blue blood graduate of Honkytonk U.  That’s right – a red, white, and blue blood graduate of Honkytonk U.” 

Toby Keith

 

 

No … I’m not politically correct.

… never have been … never will be …

 

 

Pay close attention here …

 

 

I NEVER HAVE BEEN POLITICALLY CORRECT!

I NEVER WILL BE POLITICALLY CORRECT!

 

 

 

… getting ready to go ziplining in Kauai with Roy …

 

 

Hey, Roy, it’s time for me to put on my boots!

Let’s go out to dinner tonight and celebrate my birthday in STYLE!

I’ll try not to get dirty or muddy … but I won’t guarantee anything … ever … 

 

 

 

 

 

Carry on, all!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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In keeping with my post of yesterday about 75 pounds being gone …

… and my current age …

… and naysayers and crab-pot dwellers denigrating me …

… let me just offer these words of “wisdom”.

 

(Keep on reading below.)

 

overweight

 

How I see myself …

… versus how others may see me …

… will result in a completely different picture of reality …

… but it doesn’t really matter …

… because how I view myself is …

ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS!!!

 

How You See Yourself

 

How I see myself is all that I care about.

Additionally, if Roy loves me … if my children love me … if my family and friends love me … what more could I want or need?

Remember:  when someone that you don’t care about or that doesn’t really care about you says things to drag you down –

You cannot and will not please everyone … ever … so stop trying.

How you see yourself means everything!

It’s all that really matters.

 

 

 

 

Carry on, all!

 

 

 

 

 

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