Happy Birthday Melissa…Forever 30

It's almost the end of the day…Melissa's 37th birthday.  She never made it past her 30th birthday. But we still celebrate and remember.  We always will.

For some reason, this year has been harder than the last couple of years.  Not sure why, but might be because the dates/days are the same as 2008.  I remember what happened-vividly-each day those last couple of weeks.

We never got to celebrate her 31st birthday.  Just missed it.  By two days.  Although several friends and relatives sent her birthday cards a few days early that I got to read to her…she loved that.

I woke up this morning around 4 a.m.  Right around the time I woke up 37 years ago on this day.  In labor that time.  Donny remembers that I woke him up around 5, because I wanted to be sure that I was in labor.

Everything was packed and ready to go, including a deck of cards, just in case  it would be awhile.
Didn't have to wait very long-she arrived at 1:19 p.m.   During my favorite daytime show - All My Children.

I remember calling my mom at work (because in those days you went to the hospital with just your spouse, not your entire family)  When she answered I said "Hi Grandma".  When she finally realized it was me, I think she was a little shocked.  I was making a phone call less than a half an hour after giving birth!  Of course now we get minute by minute texts right up to delivery.  How things have changed!

Melissa was a beautiful, healthy baby.  Lots of dark hair.  A good sleeper right from the start.

She survived the Blizzard of '78…we have a certificate from Channel 7 to prove it!  She was just a couple of weeks old.

When I woke up this morning, I remember thinking about that morning 37 years ago.  When we left I remember thinking about how our lives were about to change.  Our house would no longer be quiet.  Peaceful.

Then I thought about the days before she passed away.  How our house would never be the same.  And it wasn't.  The silence was deafening.  Not peaceful at all.

I remember in vivid detail the day she was born….and the day she died.  I wish I could remember everything in between just as vividly.  Thank goodness I was a picture taker, and so was Melissa.
They tell the story of her life.  The in-between.

In a way, having the anniversary and her birthday only two days apart was a blessing in disguise.
The two days where memories come flooding back, and the pain is more intense.  For us, it softens during the summer.  No holidays, anniversary or birthday.  And sunshine.

Thank goodness for pictures - they remind me of the wonderful life she lived.  I want to focus on her life…not just her death.

There have been lots of tears in the last month, but some smiles too.  She left us with a lot of great memories.  And we love that her friends remember too.  And share their memories.

As long as someone speaks her name, she will live on.

Happy Birthday Melissa Marie…Fort…we love you and miss you…and we will always celebrate your birthday.  Your life.

BIRTHday

2nd Birthday celebration

OU Friend Shannon's son with balloon for first balloon release - they released their balloon in Boston!

Melissa's last celebrated birthday.  A big party.  Just what she wanted.  

Fort and Grandma

Group shot.  Melissa's 30th birthday party

Fairmont friends

Family shot

37th Birthday - January 5, 2015

Andrew

Max

Happy 37th Birthday Melissa…FORT

Forever 30

(((((Love you)))))

Six Years later...

Like Melissa, I write.  I make lists, keep a calendar, write in a journal, and write on this blog.  I found a stack of my journals the other day and found my journal from 2009/10.

Writing is cathartic.  Reading my entries from that time made me realize how much progress I have made in the last few years.  My post on the blog on January 3, 2010 was from my entry in my journal.  It was about everything I learned the first year without my beautiful daughter.  Melissa.    Things I could do after a year, and things I couldn't do.

Some things have changed in six years…I couldn't go to the grocery store.  Too hard to look at the things that she liked.  And the greeting card aisle…seems like the cards that jumped out at me all said "TO MY DAUGHTER".  How could I go through life and never buy another card that said "MY DAUGHTER".  I cried every time I walked past those cards.
Now, I still buy those cards.  I wrap them in plastic with tape and I take them to her.  I can't stop.  So I don't.

I couldn't read anything but headlines in the newspaper.  And the obituaries.  Looking for other people who lost children.  To remember that I wasn't the only one.
I still read the obituaries.  Daily.  But I can focus a little more (not a lot, but some) on other articles.  I actually read two books (fiction) while we were in California for a week.  Couldn't do that six years ago.

Social gatherings.  We go, but it's still hard.  Especially during the holidays.  Complete families.  If not all together, at least a phone call away.   There are still times, six years later, that I just don't want to attend a function that is a large gathering.  If we do, I tend to find a spot out of the way where I can sit and talk to one or two people.  I'm not really antisocial.  I do enjoy meeting a friend or two for breakfast or lunch.  Big groups still make me anxious.

New Years.  I still have a hard time saying "HAPPY New Years".   The month of December is nothing but remembering what happened each day that month in 2008.  This year, the dates fell on the same days as 2008.

I am writing this on Friday, January 2.  It was a Friday in 2008 too.  Melissa slept most of the day.  I had asked everyone to send her birthday cards.  Told her we would be celebrating her birthday on the weekend since it fell on a Monday that year.  I remember reading her all of her birthday cards to her that day.  Put them on the shelf in front of her so she could see them.  They all made her happy. We still have those birthday cards.  I remember that night, Nick, Meredith and Drew came to visit. She was wide awake.  Held Drew, played with him and talked.  They left pretty early, around 7.  Nick stood at the door and said "Love you Fort.  We'll see you in the morning"  She said "I love you Nick."  That was the last thing she said.  She fell asleep after he left.  John and I slept on either side of her bed.  I remember Donny standing at the foot of her bed and she looked at him, without saying anything.  He said "Mom will be right here.  She's not going anywhere".  I remember watching her sleep.  Looking at her hands.  They looked so small to me…they were so soft.  I wanted to remember every freckle.  Every crease.  I wanted to remember the color of her eyes, and her laugh.  Her voice.  Her breathing.  Because I knew that night was the last night I could do that.

A couple of days before that, I remember going home to take a shower.  Donny, John and John's parents were with Melissa.  I remember coming home, walking through the house and screaming at the top of my lungs….crying…knowing that she would never walk in this house again.  How could I live without her??????? (Two of my friends who lost a child, Roxy & Alicia, stopped by Hospice to talk to me.  They couldn't tell me how to do it, just listened and hugged me.  Just knowing I wasn't alone was, in some strange way, was comforting).

That night, I tried not to go to sleep.  It was the last few hours that she would physically be with us.  How could I sleep through that?  I did drift off a couple of times.  Once I woke up, and there was a single tear sliding down her cheek.  I wish I knew… was the tear because she was sad she was leaving us, or was the tear because JP was greeting her?  I wish I knew…

Tonight I will more than likely have a hard time going to sleep.  I feel like I need to be awake right at that moment…when she took her last breath.  I remember when the nurse came in and checked for a heartbeat.  She shook her head, then took the oxygen mask off Melissa.  John's dad looked at the clock and said "5:18".  I will never forget that moment.  I remember her last breath like I remember her first breath.

So how in the world have I (we) made it six years?

Donny just walked in the door and said there was something at the front door.  He brought it up and it was a gift in a Christmas bag.  From friends we haven't seen in a few years.  Dave and JoNell.   Inside the card was an article from Guideposts.  The article read

"When you have to bury your children, it doesn't matter how long they've been gone, you never stop missing them.  My husband, Myles, and I lost both our daughters.  Linda's alcoholism brought her life to a tragic end at age 45.  Renee passed away at 48 after a long fight with breast cancer.  It's been more than eight years since our girls died, but some days grief still hits me so hard, it's as if I just kissed them goodbye for the last time."

There was more to the article, but I think you get the gist.  Inside the bag were also two breast cancer t-shirts and Peanut Butter Fudge.  The best fudge ever.

JoNell's timing was PERFECT.  I am sitting here writing about Melissa's last few hours, and whether she knew it or not, the timing was perfect.  I needed to know that someone remembered that January 3rd was Melissa's last day on earth.    And someone did.

And I know that her friends will remember, and some of my friends will remember, and if you are reading this you might remember next year.  Because as long as I am on this earth, my job is to make sure Melissa is not forgotten.  I think I'm doing a pretty good job of that so far.

My thoughts are all over the place right now…feeling sorry for myself because I don't have my daughter, but also thinking about some other people I've met who are probably feeling just like I am right now.  I recently met (over the phone) a woman whose son took his own life.  January 3. Same anniversary as Melissa.  He was a Veteran. Had PTSD.  Another new friend whose daughter took her own life.  His daughter's birthday is January 5 (same day as Melissa's).  It will be a year January 7.  He is almost 90 years old, and I can see the pain in his eyes…where WE were six years ago.  It doesn't matter how old you are when you lose a child.  The pain is the same.

So why am I still here?  How have I (we) survived six years?
#1 - we have to take care of each other.  we are still grieving, and we understand that we don't know when it will hit, and we accept the fact that it will always be there.  Maybe not as often, we just don't know when.
We have a son, two grandsons and a daughter in law who we love just as much as we loved Melissa.  I want to see my grandsons grow up.  I want to enjoy time with my son before I join Melissa, whenever that might be.

Friends who still come around, and accept the fact that we are not the same, have helped us survive.

Sometimes (quite often actually) I wonder what my purpose is in life now.  There are still times that all I want is to be with Melissa.

Then I meet a parent (or parents) at Compassionate Friends meetings who recently lost a child.  I see myself in them.  Six years ago.  I've been where they are.  I remember meeting parents at my first meeting who had been there for 2, 3 or more years.  They were talking.  Laughing. Smiling.  Everything I couldn't do.  Didn't want to do.  But they gave me hope.  And that's what I can do.  Give these newly bereaved parents hope.  Somehow, you will survive.

***

So far, this has been about me.

But I want it to be about Melissa.   Her life.

Not long after she passed away, a friend of hers gave me a poster that Melissa made for her while they were at Ohio University.  It said

On the day you were born,
you cried and the world rejoiced.
Live your life in such a manner
that when you die,
the world cries and you rejoice.

I think this so perfectly describes Melissa and her life.   While I would love to say that she was perfect in every way (of course she was when she was born) she was not perfect.  She and her brother fought constantly.  Typical sibling rivalry.  How I miss that NOW.  But they loved each other.  She was messy.   Messes didn't bother her like they bothered me.  She would clean her room once a month and it always looked great when you walked in the room.  Unless you looked under the bed.  Or in the closet.  Or in her brother's room (where she put everything she no longer wanted or needed!).
Melissa was a loyal friend, she was honest.  She would never intentionally hurt anyone.  I think she would do anything for a friend.  Or a stranger.  She was creative - which came in handy because she never had any money to buy gifts, she always made them.  (and those are the things that I treasure the most!)

Oh, how we rejoiced the day she was born.  She was light of our lives…and her grandparents - and all of her aunts and uncles.  I was going through a binder with some cards that I found from her.  This one was SO her - it was an anniversary card.  On the front it says

Mom & Dad
Today is the perfect time to celebrate the many blessings
you've received in your life together…

(on the inside)

…starting with ME, of course!  Aren't I wonderful?! You two really lucked out to have such a great kid!  Hey, no need to thank me--it's my pleasure to bring magic to the family!  Wherever I walk, roses bloom!  (Oh, by the way, Happy Anniversary!)  Anyway, I think it all started when I was born, and suddenly the world seemed a little brighter…

and her note, in her handwriting in the card:  Hope you guys have a great day! Enjoy your gifts on the houseboat.  Thanks for putting up with my crap  & ; most of all yelling, "It's quarter til!" When it was only 6:20.  I don't know how I'll keep a job when I'm gone for good!  I love you guys!  Melissa Marie

***

Wow.  That card said it all.  It was funny at the time, but SO true.

The world did seem a little brighter with Melissa in it.

Working on focusing on her life, not her death.

She was a bright light in our life…missing her more today than yesterday.

Six years later.

***

Memories of Melissa Marie…

What a wonderful life.

(love you and miss you pretty girl…)

Cheers from the Forteners...

I am writing this a week before Christmas.

Last night was a rough night.  When I finally went to bed, I snuggled up to Donny and laid my head on his chest.  I could hear his heart beating.  I could feel his heart beating.  It took me back six years.  The evening of January 2nd.  I sat next to Melissa as she lay sleeping in Hospice.  I could physically see her heart pounding in her chest.  I remember asking either John or the nurse why her heart was pounding so hard.  It was because her heart was working overtime to get the blood to her extremities.  It was only a few hours before she passed away.  I had a flashback of her last breath.  5:18 a.m.  I couldn't stop the tears or the sobs…how in the world could it be six years.  It still seems like yesterday.

Anyway, I finally went to sleep.  Around 4 a.m. I woke with a start.  I don't know if Melissa was in my dreams, but she was definitely communicating again.  It was about the blog.  And about a Christmas letter.

I remember years ago at Christmas Melissa would love reading the Christmas newsletters we received.  A lot of people used to write them.  Not so much anymore.  But she loved them. And she would laugh and say "we need to write one of these.  Only ours needs to be just the opposite.  Instead of how wonderful everything is, we need to write things like - we're unemployed, the kids quit school, are on drugs…etc etc."  She thought that would be hilarious.  I thought it would one more thing to add to my list of things to do.  So it never happened.

What I remember last night is her saying "Mom.  write the Christmas letter.  And make it funny."

If you knew Melissa, you KNOW she loved her reality shows.
So, in honor of Melissa, since this is still HER blog, I am writing a Christmas newsletter.  Reality style.

***

Dear Family and Friends,

This will not be your typical yearly Christmas newsletter.  Because we've never done a Christmas newsletter.  So I'm going to go back a few years (because I want Melissa to be a part of it too). A Christmas Past/Christmas Present letter.

CHRISTMAS PAST

I always LOVED Christmas.  Everything about it.  The lights. The music.  The food. Specifically the cookies.   Donny, Melissa and Nick loved Christmas too.  The lights. The music. The food. The decorations.  The presents.  They loved that mom loved it.  Because she made it happen.

In September, I made my TO DO list.  (Melissa got that honestly.  Her dad does it too).  My to do list included a list of people of buy for - of course Donny and the kids, co-workers, my family, his family and Bandit (our dog).  The shopping was divided by the paydays.  Decorating began the weekend after Thanksgiving.

We always had an artificial tree, but at some point the kids decided they wanted a live tree.  And I wanted a perfect Christmas.  So we would pile into the minivan and head out to Country Pines to cut down a tree.  The perfect tree.  Which meant different things to each one of us.  The amount of time we spent looking for the perfect tree was completely dependent on the weather.  The temperature specifically.  If it was 60 degrees, we took an hour.  If it was 0 degrees, the first tree we saw was the perfect tree.  Donny didn't really care what the tree looked like.  He wanted to get home to watch the Bengals.  Nick always carried the saw, so whatever tree he liked was the tree he was going to cut.  Melissa liked the Charlie Brown trees, because she felt sorry for them.  (I usually put a Charlie Brown tree out for her at the cemetery because I know she would love that).  We always ended up with a little bit of everything.  Nick got to cut the tree down (with Donny's help of course), the tree was never perfect - it always had a good side and a bad side, and I had my whole family together.  It's all I ever wanted.  

Donny will dispute this story.  But it's true.  And I'm writing this so I get to tell my version.   I can't tell you exactly when this was, but it was the last time we got a live tree.  We got a late start to Country Pines, and by the time we found the tree we wanted, it was getting close to kickoff time.  We rushed home, Donny got the tree off the car and into the house.  He really wanted to watch the game, and I really wanted the tree in the stand.  After some begging and pleading and "All you have to do is put it in the stand.  I'll put the lights on and decorate it" he got the tree ready.  He had to saw some off the bottom of the trunk to make it level.  Evidently, the trunk wasn't level, because the tree would not stand in the stand.  He tried multiple times.  Finally, he picked up the tree and THREW IT OUT THE FRONT door.  Now he denies this.  But it's true.  After the game, he finally got the tree in the stand. And that, folks, was the last time we got a live tree.

Like I said, my family loved Christmas.  I just don't think they had any idea how it all happened.  All they knew was on Christmas morning, there were lots of presents (all wrapped) under the tree, there was always a big Christmas breakfast.  There were lots of decorations, lots of Christmas cookies.  I think maybe they believed that we had elves that did all of this.

Needless to say, I was a little overwhelmed.  Shopping, cooking, baking, wrapping. Smiling.  Working. Cleaning to get ready for the Fortener family Christmas-which they all loved.  Lots of people, lots of craziness.  And to them, lots of fun.  

After several years of this-and I KNOW they knew I was stressed.  My yelling probably was a clue. One year I finally talked to my doctor and got on antidepressants.  I remember that Christmas Melissa said "Mom.  Why aren't you yelling this year?????"  then "OHHHHH…you're on drugs, aren't you?" Always the comedian, that Melissa.  
I love that I can laugh about that know.  Some of my favorite memories.

And some of my other favorite Christmas memories…getting ready to go to church on Christmas Eve, getting the kids in the car and they were ALWAYS fighting.  Bickering.  Arguing about something. Anything.  And I would say "PLEASE.  Just today.  Can we all be nice????"  And on the way home from Grandma and Grandpa Rado's house on Christmas Eve, we would look out the window as we were driving on 75 past downtown Dayton and say "Look!  Rudolph is on top of that building" (the red tower lights…although, maybe it WAS Rudolph)…"You need to get to bed as soon as we get home or Santa won't stop at our house.  You have to be asleep" It worked every time.  

I would give anything for those Christmases again.

Christmases PAST were hurried and busy and overwhelming.  But I loved Christmas anyway.

And then Christmas of 2008.  Our last Christmas with Melissa.  (I'm going to sound like Grinch here) I realized that Christmas wasn't all about the presents and the food and the decorations.  

We were able to put up the Christmas tree the weekend after Thanksgiving that year when Melissa was in the hospital because John was with her all weekend.  But I didn't have time to shop, bake, or do all the things that I was always rushing to do at Christmas.  I was with Melissa at the hospital 24/7, unless John could be there when he could get off work and on the weekends.  

When she finally got to come home from Hospice, she came to our house because we were closer to Hospice than her and John's home in Cincinnati.  We had a decorated tree up.  That was it.  No presents yet, no cookies.  But we were all home together.  

We had lots of Angels that Christmas.  Lots of her friends came over to visit.  Our Fairmont friends all took turns bringing us dinner.  It was love like you've never seen.

And knowing that it was more than likely going to be Melissa's last Christmas, I wanted it to be as normal as possible.  She did too.  A few days before Christmas, she told us she wanted to go shopping. She had some presents to buy.  So on the coldest day of the year, we got her-and her oxygen-into the van to go to her favorite store - "TarZay" as she called it.  She was in a wheelchair with a big oxygen tank on the back of the chair and we had her wrapped in a blanket.  When we got into the store, I was pushing her in the wheelchair.  She told me to get away.  (she didn't want me to see what she was getting us).  She wheeled herself around that store, with John following with a cart.  This was about 10 days before she passed away.  It was inspiring.  And kind of frustrating for me.

As usual, she couldn't wait until Christmas morning for us to open our gift.  Late on Christmas Eve, she wanted me to open our gift.  It was a new monitor for our computer.  She didn't like the one we had, and this would benefit HER too…she used our computer a lot to write on the blog.  She laughed about that too - buying us gifts that would benefit her.  I loved it.  We still have it.
She bought Andrew the Fisher Price stacking rings.  We still have that here too.

And my shopping trip?  For the first time ever we didn't have a mound of gifts under the tree.  But I needed to have something for everyone.  So a couple of nights before Christmas I went to Kohls.  No carts were available, so I took one of those shopping bags that they have.  I was able to find a few things for everybody.  I hated spending time away from Melissa,  especially knowing that our time together was limited, so when I got to the checkout and there was a line of about 50 people, I knew I couldn't wait in that line.  I just stood there and cried.  That's when the next Angel appeared.  His name is Mike Schmidt (he's the brother of a good friend of mine, and Nick played on his softball team).  He was with his (then) wife, and he asked me what was wrong.  He knew about Melissa. I asked him if he was going to wait in that line.  I told him that I needed to get home to Melissa and the bag that I was holding had all of our Christmas gifts in it.  I asked if he would buy the gifts and bring them to our house (and I would pay him when he got there).  His (then) wife said "how are we going to do this, we can't do this…"  and Mike said "I'll take care of it Pam".  And an hour later he was knocking at our door with the gifts.  I was able to wrap them that night and we had presents under the tree on Christmas morning.  

Another angel appeared that week…Josh stopped by with some cash for Melissa and John (his, Brent and Doug's Christmas gift from their staff).  They were so touched by this gift…I'm sure it helped with their medical bills.  

Now I will tell you too that it was very difficult shopping for Melissa.  What do you get for someone who is dying?  Nick and Mere bought her a movie that she loved.  I bought her a sweater.  The sweater she wore when we buried her.  When she opened it, she said "I HEART this!"  

That Christmas Eve it was just Donny, me, Melissa, John, Nick, Mere and Andrew.  Nick and Mere also wrote out on a piece of paper "Mere is pregnant", then cut it up like a puzzle for Melissa to put together.  She got M-E-R together and she said "is Meredith pregnant?"  So she knew about Max too. 
Christmas Day, Donny's brother Mike had Christmas for the first time since we couldn't.  She wanted to go there too.  So we did. Her Christmas was complete. 

And she said "This is my best Christmas EVER".

Mine too.

CHRISTMAS PRESENT

Do I still love Christmas?  Not so much.  As each day passes, I tend to remember what we did each day that last year.  Our best Christmas ever.

But what I DO love about Christmas is the joy that it brings my grandsons.  All kids for that matter.  I still love the magic that is Christmas too.  When my kids were little, it was just "Santa is always watching. " We actually had Santa call a few times.

Now, it's the Elf on the Shelf.  It amazes me that my grandkids are in awe of this elf.  "Pamma, come in here and see where our elf is today!"  And I see people posting things like the elf getting into flour, or pooping hershey kisses onto cookies…and they BELIEVE that.  

Each year (in the last six years) I do a little more.  The first year, I couldn't get the tree out, the stockings, and the just opening the box of ornaments…I just couldn't do it. I bought a new small pre-lit tree. New stockings.  

Two years ago, I sent Christmas cards for the first time (in four years).  I put up a few more lights and bought some Christmas cookies.   My sister Sue went with me to the Webster Street Market. We bought cookies there.  She loved cookies too.  I gave her some for Christmas.  She spent Christmas with us at Nick & Mere's because Matthew (her son) wasn't home yet.  He was moving back from Pittsburg to live in Dayton.  She was so happy.  A week later she died.

Two steps forward. Three steps back.

So here we are.  We are still here.  I guess that's a good sign.

The Family

Nick and Mere are happy in their new house.  They are both working (because these days you have to have two incomes) and her mom helps out with the kids two days a week and I get them two days a week (after school).  

GOD BLESS them…they are having the Fortener family Christmas.  We took it over several years ago.  Nick and Mere have a little more room, so they volunteered to have it!   This family isn't getting any smaller!  Just in the last month there were three additions to the Fortener family (Donny's brother's and sisters) - a great nephew Noah, and twins Smyth (boy) and Parker (girl)…and one more on the way-another girl.

Andrew is in first grade.  I get him off the bus two days a week.  Every single time he has gotten off the bus he says "I had a great day today Pamma."   When my kids (and grandkids) are happy, I'M HAPPY.  Funny story about Andrew.  When I was there yesterday, he said was going out to the backyard.  It was cold.  He had his coat on.  And he says "Pamma, can I pee out here?"  UMM.  NO.  The bathroom is closer than the back yard.  Go there.  (it's my fault…I let the pee in my backyard in the summer.  Now they think it's ok anywhere!)  Andrew LOVES Legos and Minecraft.  He's going to be our builder/Engineer/designer.  When he is explaining Minecraft to me it's just like Melissa explaining Rugby to me.  I don't get it.  (Ok - rugby friends, this is what I understand- a score is a try.  the field is called a pitch.  the game is a match.  I think there are 11 players?  Unless you are playing 7s. Then there are 7.   A scrum is in rugby. Not football.  There is no equipment in rugby.  Except tape for your ears. Or a kind of leather helmet. ) I don't understand ANYTHING about Minecraft.  I just know that it's like building on a tablet.  

Max is in an early 5s program.  He loves puzzles.  It's actually the one thing that he sits still for.  He always has a ball in his hands.  Always throwing things in the air and catching them.  He loves sports.  He loves to pass a ball. All the time.  We took him to the Fairmont/Springboro basketball games the other night. (they go to Springboro schools-the Panthers).  The girls played first.  He agreed to cheer for Fairmont because it's Lindsay's team.  But he was cheering for the Panthers in the boys game.  Then he asked "Pamma, why don't you like the Panthers?"  Someday he'll understand rivalry's and competitiveness.  It stays with you forever.


Donny's mom- Rozella - is like a spring chicken.  She never stops.  Had a hip replacement this year -with a little setback and cataract surgery in both eyes.  She still managed to get to some of her grandsons football games (he played for Southeast Louisiana State).  She never misses a family function and is always the first person there.

And speaking of Ryan, I KNOW Melissa would give him a shout out - and this is on FB so I know it's public.  He signed with an agent yesterday.  He's a field goal kicker and several teams are looking at him.  He has plans in place if this doesn't pan out, but it's an opportunity he doesn't' want to overlook! We're so excited for him!

Donny and I have had a few health issues, but hanging on.  We did a lot of traveling this year - seems like a lot more when we write it down -Chicago for the Compassionate Friends Conference,  Ft. Lauderdale, then a cruise to Grand Turk Island, Dominican Republic, Curacao, Aruba.  Donny had a conference in California for a week in Anaheim. Visited his friend and my cousin and his wife, Doug and Peggy. Went to San Diego then to Burbank to the Ellen Show.
Back home for a weekend at Hocking Hills with our Portsmouth (cruising) friends Mange and Mary.
Then to Memphis and New Orleans to see Ryan's last home game.

No wonder I'm sick.  I need to stop traveling.  For now.

We don't have a lot of plans for the winter other than basketball.  Still follow the Firebirds (sadly, cousin Lindsay tore her ACL-it's her senior year.  She's still hoping to get a few games in if they can fit her with a brace).  Also following Notre Dame Women (Kathryn Westbeld-former Firebird) is playing and Ohio State (Makayla Waterman - 3 time B Positive Spirit award winner at Fairmont)plays for the Buckeyes.  Sitting out this year due to an injury and PITT (Chelsea Welch, former Firebird, plays).  

That's what gets us through the rough spots in the winter.  It was the first thing we did after Melissa passed away…went to a Fairmont girls basketball game.  Cassie Sant played - she wore #44.  Melissa's number.  Then went on to play for UD.  Followed her there too. Now she's playing in Italy.

I also traveled to Florida multiple times this summer - to be with my dad.  He's doing better now.  With a little help from Home Instead every morning.  I begged and pleaded with him to come home for Christmas, but the winters are too hard on him.  So he's staying there for the holidays.  I wish he could be here with us.  My family just keeps getting smaller.  

So that's it…we're keeping busy and we're still here.  

Melissa made this as a thank you for someone…can't remember who.  But I think it is so appropriate for Christmastime.  So many people brought sunshine…and hope... to our lives.  May it return to you one hundred fold.

Merry Christmas 

(or Happy Holidays, whatever you are celebrating)

From our house - to  yours.