It was 6 years ago today that my mother died. Being motherless is a feeling that is so difficult to even describe. There is an emptiness and hollowness inside that will never be fill by another living soul. Ever. She was my first love, my first kiss, my first breath, my first everything..... for 43 years. Then she was gone. Just....gone. She will always be gone.
Though I no longer wallow in the grief and loss on a regular basis, I miss her more every single day.
Forever.
Peace
In just a few days 2015 will be a speck in the review mirror of my life. Gone will be the long days and even longer nights alone because of deployment. A new year will begin with more days and nights to go, but they are fewer than the ones I will leave behind.
As I look forward to a new year, a new beginning to get it right, and a new start - a chance to begin again - I hope that I will take the clean slate and fill it with so much love, joy, friendship, adventure, and tradition. I want to finally learn to sew, design "my room", finish that book I started 29 years ago long before technology, on an old typewriter. I want to spend long nights and weekends with my family, fish the lake with my husband, I want to learn something new and perfect something old. I want to capture more of the cherishable moments with my eyes and heart instead of behing the camera of my phone.
I want to travel with my love and hold hands endlessly. I want to take up a craft and throw intimate parties. I want to live more than I have in recent years. To laugh more and cry less. To blog, to vlog...to whatever. I long to remember the past but let go of the pain...to tell that story. To be there, here, more....and less....depending.
Soon the chapter of this year will end and I will flip the page to write the next one. I want to. I need to. My story is just beginning to get good again.
Peace
The past week or two have been trying, professionally and personally. I have faced head on, with the true feelings of some I loved and some I respected. In both unrelated situations I have given beyond the ability I wasn't sure I possessed. In both situations I was taken back by the results.
I'm a giver, rarely a takers. Sometimes, just sometimes, I want to receive.
Peace
There once was a kidney that lived inside of my Sister's body. Along with it's mate, the little left kidney worked day and night, around the clock, to filter blood needed to produce urine. For 49 + plus years this amazing internal organ (s) has carried the responsibility of filling up the bladder so she could pee and filtering out toxins. Seems like such a simple thing, right?
For her....it was.
For others....not so much.
As an RN who has worked in dialysis for many years, she saw the impact that not having fully functioning kidneys can have on a person, a body, the family, and the spirit. She has watched in vain how the procedure lengthen the inevitable, knowing that the inevitable would eventually happen.
Rhonda has the fighting spirit of our father....so she took it to the streets. She stood up for someone who could no longer fight their own kidney battle alone any longer. She wanted to be the difference that she wanted to see. My sister went through long months and months of testing to be approved as a living kidney donor.
As part of a paired-donation, this past Friday I cried as they wheeled her to the operating room, where her left kidney was removed and transplanted into the body of someone she didn't even know. A selfless act of humanity that gave life back to the recipient who had been on dialysis for 5 years.
Like me, many people have a little red heart on their driver's license, or the actual words "donor" to signify their intent to donate their organs upon death. But did you know that kidneys donated by a living donor last 5-10 years longer than the organ from a deceased person (averaged about 10-15 years)? I may live to be an old, old woman....I know some of my organs are needed long before my last breath. Yours are too.
Will I become a living donor? As much as I would love to be strong and brave like Rhonda....in truth, I'm not. Living donation is not for everyone....but it is for someone.
My sister is my hero. She is home now and has a beautifully working right kidney. Her donor may go home today to start her new life with an equally beautiful left kidney, that has the Blocker fighting spirit coursing through its tissue.
Peace
I woke this morning next to my husband. The warmth of his body, the touch of his foot entwined with mine, and his eyes looking at my face as I slowly peeped them open to catch a glimpse of him. In my dreams we traveled together. First to Germany where we stayed at a romantically quaint Inn and made love amid the moonlight through the windows. In the blink of a second we were in Italy, touring the ancient cities and feasting on the best food Italy offered....made by hands of love and years of history. We drank wine, we laughed, we formed new family. Our journey took us through cobble stone streets and lines of laundry hanging to dry. Blink....back to Germany amid the sights and sounds. The food, the beer, the endless wandering. We laughed and talked ourselves to sleep. Holding each other like tomorrow would never come.
It did.
We woke and the dream was over.
Though it lasted 7 days it seemed like 30 seconds.
30 seconds in time that 6 months have forged. I tried to grasp each second and hold on to them for dear life, to carry us for 6 months more. I wanted to capture each moment in my blinks....never to be forgotten. I wanted to be able to close my eyes and replay the kisses, the touches, the love.
But the morning came too soon and the dream faded away.
Peace
