It's a Wonderful Life

It's September and I'm already thinking about the upcoming seventh anniversary.  I won't post this until then, but I need to write when I'm thinking about it...

I know it's cliche, but it seems like yesterday.  And when I think that I haven't seen that beautiful face for SEVEN years, it seems like a lifetime.

It happens every year, I know what's coming.  (although I do have a doctor's appointment in Nov. Last year my doctor suggested an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety just for the months that are so hard to get through - October - March.  It really helped).  Mood swings, depression, anti-social feelings.  I know that I have made progress in the last seven years.  When I look back on posts at each anniversary, things have changed.

What I can do
This might sound strange, but one thing I had a hard time doing was putting an (!) at the end of a sentence.  How could I possibly be excited about ANYTHING.   When I look back, I'm amazed at the things that I accomplished so soon after Melissa's death.  Organizing a fundraiser (with Angie and a lot of other people) that raised $24,000.  Walking 60 miles WITHOUT Melissa. Twice.  Working.  I did a lot, but on the inside I was dying too.
Today, some of the things that I struggled to do six years ago...dance for one (Ok - I'm not a good dancer, but I used to LOVE to dance) I want to do.  My body just stops me.  Except when I hear the song HAPPY by Pharrel Willimas.  Isn't that strange?  Happy?  I think Melissa is getting into my head and saying "It's ok mom.  It's ok to be happy!  Go ahead and DANCE!"  Donny and I were taking a walk a while back - sometimes we walk and talk, sometimes we take our walkmans (we're old) that song came on and I was literally dancing and singing while I was walking.  Made Donny smile.  He likes to see me happy.  Just like Melissa and Nick.
I listen to the words of music a lot closer than I ever did before Melissa.   Recently, on another walk, I was thinking about her.  Purple Rain by Prince  came on (she loved Prince) - the first words in the song are "I never meant to cause you sorrow, I never meant to cause you pain.  I just want to see you dancing in the purple rain"...music is her way of communicating with me!   It's like she wants to talk to me, so she does it through a song.

What I can't do
I've made a lot of progress here... in the beginning, I couldn't go to the grocery store without crying.
Socializing, unless it had to do with an event in Melissa's memory, was hard.  I do socialize more now, but I still have a hard time with crowds.  Big parties. (again, unless it's about Melissa) Maybe because mingling and making small talk is hard.  All I want to talk about is Melissa.  I enjoy going out with a friend or two where we can have a real conversation.  That's a good thing, I think.
Really, there aren't a lot of things that I can't do.  I try really hard to make this new life as normal as possible.


Regrets
I have a couple, as far as Melissa goes.  I wish I would have talked to her about what was coming.
How she felt.  How I felt.  At the time, the only time I could tell her how much I was going to miss her was when she was sleeping.  I never wanted her to think  that I was giving up on her...if we talked about dying, I was giving up.  So we never had that discussion.
Funny thing is, she never brought it up either.  The discussion was always about her going back to work when she got better.  Although I was just reading her last post the other day. I really think she knew what was coming, but just didn't want to talk about it. At least to me.  She never wanted to see me cry.  And I never wanted to see HER cry.  As all parents know, if your kids are happy, YOU are happy.  If your kids are hurting... well...you know.

This is her post:


During the last five months while I was enduring these last five months of Ixempra, my mom would cheerfully nod and say, "I think this is the "Big One" you were talking about. This is the last one you have to get over. But I would always respond the same. "No Mom, sorry." In a way I was trying to show her to show a little respect to the disease. Cancer isnt going to make me go through all of that THAT for THIS. I sadly knew there was at least one more visit we were going ot have to make on this journey, and it wasnt a place most people think they're going to make it out alive without proper flowers or some respectable casserole dish.

***
The other thing I wish I would have done differently...the last day she was home, she got up that morning and wanted to take a shower.  She knew she was probably going back to Hospice.  She couldn't go without the oxygen...she had a long enough cord, but she didn't have a lot of strength at that point.  She stood in the bathroom and started undressing while I was pleading with her - you don't have enough strength...you have to have your oxygen.  Then she got sick.

Really, the last thing she wanted from me was to take a shower.  And I said no.    If I could do it over again, I would find a way.  I wasn't thinking about getting a chair, or it will only take a minute.  I was worried.  And I wish I could change that.  She NEVER asked for anything.  And the one thing she asked for, I didn't give her.

Forgiveness
So I guess I should forgive myself for that.  I was doing what I thought was best at the time.  But it was such a little thing....she never asked for much.

And I hope that my friends and family will forgive me for all the times they offered to help, or take me out, or talk...and I couldn't.  I can't explain the depth of the grief I was experiencing.  It takes your breath away.  It consumed me.  It was difficult to watch everyone's life go on when my world stopped.  I didn't WANT my life to go on...without her in it.  I know I worried a lot of people.  Mostly Donny and Nick.  But I needed to get through the only way I knew how.  I needed to do it on my own...for awhile.  Until I realized that I couldn't do it alone.  And  good friends who lost their son just five weeks after Melissa introduced me to Compassionate Friends.  A life saver for me.

And I guess this is a good place to say I forgive anyone who tried to give me advice...how to get through this.  Although I can say I had an idea of how to do this because my brother died when I was 17 and I watched my mom and dad and how they handled it, I had NO IDEA how painful the loss of a child could be.  I only knew from a siblings perspective.  I knew that I needed to remember that I was fortunate to still have a child!  Nick and I talk about that.  I want him to know that if he ever feels like I am neglecting him, to tell me.  You cannot compare losses.  Every loss is different.  Losing a child is not like losing a grandma, grandpa, mom, dad, brother, sister, best friend, dog.  I've lost them all.   There is NO comparison.

What I do know (now) is that if your only loss is one of the above, that is a GREAT loss to YOU.
Maybe that's all you have to compare it to.  You feel like you know.  I try to understand that now.

We can't compare the loss of children either.  Some of us got to say goodbye.  Some of us had harsh words the last time we talked to our child.  Some of our children took their own lives.  Some of them made bad decisions...BUT.  The end result is the same.  The pain is the same. Whether they had cancer, took their own life, took drugs, made bad decisions, we loved our children the same.

So I forgive you if you said something  (in the beginning) that hurt me.  Because in the last seven years, I've learned that people never intend to say anything hurtful.  They just don't know.  And I hope they NEVER know.


Remembering , Reflecting, Celebrating
This year, on January 3, I will reflect.  We don't celebrate her death.  I will read her blog, get out the scrapbooks, go through the tubs with all of her things from her last Christmas here.  We have gifts, clothes, things she wrote.  I will touch, smell, hold, remember.  And cry.  I don't do that as much.  Oh, the tears still come - but I never know when.  But crying is good.  It makes me feel better.  Because when I cry, I am remembering.

We DO celebrate her birth.  She was the best thing that ever happened to me (and of course it was the same when Nick was born, then my grandsons).  She was a beautiful, happy baby.
She was smart and funny.  Always.

We had our ups and downs, like all parents do with their children.

But we always had a good relationship.  A relationship that turned into a friendship.  BFFs.
She was the person that I confided in.  She gave me great advice.  She didn't always listen because, although she was never diagnosed, I'd say she had ADD.  If you ever talked to her on the phone, you could tell that she was always doing something else while she was talking to you.  Hmmm...when I think about it, so do I.  Maybe she watched me more than I knew...

She made me laugh.  I can only remember her crying a couple of times...when she lost her son, JP, and when the cancer came back the first time...she was so afraid of what the doctor was going to say.  We cried together that time...and I told her "if it's good, we'll celebrate.  if it's bad, we'll just find out what's next!"  I can't think of another time she cried.  She was always positive. At least with me.

We loved going to lunch together.  She hated shopping.  Again, like me.  I shop when I need to shop. Get what I need. Done.  She was the same.

What surprised me a LOT was her last Christmas, when we had our family Christmas picture taken and a couple of people told her she looked like me.  Her response was "Finally."  Wow.  She wanted to look like me.

I remember a Mom's Weekend at OU.  Angie's mom and I both wore blazers.  Melissa and Angie took them from us and put them on and made fun of us!  And later she WANTED to look like me.
She borrowed clothes, shoes, jewelry from me all the time.  Well, I use the term "borrowed" loosely.  She never asked.  She just went into my room and would slyly walk out the door with a guilty look on her face.  I'd say "Ok.  What do you have".  She never could lie either.
Secretly I loved that.  I liked that we had the same taste.  We were a lot alike in so many ways.

The hardest thing for me now is shopping at Christmastime.  So many mothers and daughters together.  It still hurts.

But for all my friends with daughters (which is almost all my friends)...I love seeing you together.
I sometimes feel like my friends relationships with their daughters got stronger after I lost Melissa.
That's a good thing.  I just can't help but wish I still had her.  I miss the Mother/Daughter things.
Every day.

***
I said earlier that it seems like a lifetime that I last saw her beautiful face.  Sometimes.  When I remember so vividly everything that happened that last month of her life, it seems like yesterday.  How can seven years have passed?
It seems like a blip on the radar.

But then I go through pictures of the last seven years.  I have made progress.  I do a lot more than I did the first couple of years - although looking back (through the pictures) I did a lot even then.
Fundraisers, marathons (1/2), 5Ks, vacations, conferences, new friends, Andrew and Max.  And taking care of my dad.  A lot has happened in the last seven years.

The last seven years reminds me of my favorite movie, It's a Wonderful Life.  I was devastated by the loss of my daughter.  There were many times that I felt like I had no reason to live.  I didn't have a Clarence- a guardian angel, but I did have Donny, Nick, Meredith, my grandsons, The Compassionate Friends, new friends and a few old friends to remind me that I did have something to live for.  I have a purpose.

I will ALWAYS miss Melissa.  Until the day I die.  But I have a choice.  I can keep her memory alive until I see her again.  For eternity.

Here's a few things that happened in the last seven years....

Lots of fundraisers....Firebirds for Fort, Cincinnati Kelts Breast Cancer Fundraiser and 

 Fundraisers for the Komen 3 Day Walk

5Ks, Marathons (1/2 marathons), 60 mile walks...

This was the Making Strides 5K...

Andrew participated to remember Aunt Fort too!

first FORT 5K (was called B Positive the first year)

Susan G. Komen 3 Day, 60 Mile Walk

Team B Positive

I carried the flag that said "MY DAUGHTER" in the Opening and Closing ceremonies.

Donna Marathon in Jacksonville...

Cheered for the "Fort"team the first Donna, participated in the second!

Did the Flying Pig Marathon in honor of my friend Jackie.

(I have to be honest.  I cheated in this one)

First Fairmont sponsored event in memory of Melissa.

Air Force Marathon in memory of Melissa

Jen carried this rugby ball in memory of Melissa at the Donna Marathon in Jacksonville

...FULL Marathon.

Handed it off to me and Donny when she crossed the finish line. Amazing.

Courtney Clifford Memorial 5K

Attended three Compassionate Friends Conferences...Boston, Chicago and Dallas

This was the Walk to Remember at Boston Commons

Participated in the annual Relay for Life at Delco Park

In the last seven years, I lost my sister and two of my best friends...

My sister Sue...

my friend Jackie

my friend Ruth

We also lost two members of our "other" family, the Franz's.  Mark and Elissa.

I know that Melissa was waiting for them with a beer in her hand (for them!) She always said she was a "Franz wannabe".  I know they are celebrating together.

Mark is on the left.

In the last seven years...I closed a building (Moraine Meadows)

We had an autistic student who, when seeing the new library for the first time, said

"It's Library Heaven"

It was.  Melissa loved it too.

I started a "new" job in the building I started in - Greenmont

and made new friends - one in particular (Angie Kessel) who

knew how important butterflies were to me...

and speaking of butterflies...

Our house (and yard) are full of them.

I retired in the last seven years...

and saw a lot of Fairmont girls basketball games...and got to see them win the 

State Championship game

also saw seven Fairmont basketball players receive the 

Melissa Fortener McLaughlin B Positive Spirit Award

and got to see Melissa's cousin Lindsay play for Fairmont.  

Melissa would have LOVED that.  We saw Lindsay play when

she was in grade school.  Melissa would be so proud of her!

We awarded twelve $1000 Scholarships in Melissa's name (so far)

Kelly Hart was one of the recipients.

Purchased a bench in memory of Melissa for Fairmont.  It's outside the Athletic office (she wanted to buy a bench in memory of classmates who passed away.  It never happened. So we did it for her.)

In the last seven years, continued to take vacations with my Moraine Meadows family...

...and remodeled our kitchen.  One of the hardest things for me to do in the last seven years was change anything around the house.  I wanted everything to be how it was when she was here...just in case she ever came home.   Really.  I'm sure she'd be ok with it...

reconnected with some "old" friends.This is Marianne.  We went to grade school together.  She's been a good friend the last seven years...

and Carol.  We went to high school together.  She lost her son, her only child, a year after Melissa.

Mange and Mary.  Donny's teammate and fraternity brother from Wilmington College.

They lost their daughter Courtney to ovarian cancer.  We've gone on several cruises with them.

Randy and Carolyn. Their son was killed in Baghdad,  and Bob and Penny. Their son completed suicide.  They are our Compassionate Friends too.  This was at the Conference in Chicago.

We remember all our kids at the annual Compassionate Friends picnic

In the last seven years, we gained a grandson (Max)

We remember Melissa with balloon releases for her birthday

and FORT bracelets...thousands of them.

Friends remember Melissa.  My friend Christy painted this picture for us.

and I spend LOTS of time with my grandsons...

Looking back...although it seems like yesterday, a lot has happened in the last seven years.

I have made progress.  With the help of my family, the Compassionate Friends and good friends

who stuck with us...we are still here.

I wish she were here...and she is in a way.  She's here because we continue to keep her memory

alive.  We always will.

Instead of closing with the boys (which she would always do), I want to close with some of my favorite memories with Melissa...

This was at Hospice.  A few things that I LOVE about this picture...She is smiling. Because Drew is visiting, I'm sure.  She is wearing a Fairmont t-shirt.  And she has her favorite blanket from home, which is still on the back of my couch...year round.

This was on the 3 Day, 60 mile Komen walk in Atlanta.  My intentions were to cheer her on, not walk 60 miles with her!  The Kelts had a fundraiser the week before and raised enough money so I could walk with her.   Never in my wildest dreams did I believe I could walk 60 miles in three days (with no training).  But she believed.  So I did.  It's one of my favorite memories.  We were close, but got even closer that weekend.  Literally.  We had to sleep in a two man pup tent each night!  It was a blast!

The pictures above and below were a train excursion that she planned to Washington D.C. for the Cherry Blossom Festival.  Again, I did not have plans to go on this trip. The day OF the trip, she called me at work.  At noon.  "Mom!  Someone cancelled for the trip to D.C. today.  Do you want to go?"  I needed to be at the rail yard in Cincinnati at 3.  I needed to pack. Get money.  The cost was $500.  A great deal.  When I told Donny, he said "how much is it going to cost?"  I told him $200.  He said "That's great!"  So I was going.  Again, we had a blast.  There were 3 rail cars attached at the end of Amtrak.  A dome car (with a dining room and living room) a sleeper car and a porch car on the end.  A friend of her boss's owned the porch car (bottom picture) and each day he would invite two people over for either lunch or dinner.  We were invited for a dinner.  An elegant,  5 Star dinner.  He had a server that wore white gloves.  We could have anything to drink that we wanted.  And dessert on the porch (in a moving train) after dinner.  It was incredible. When we got to D.C. they detached our three cars and left us in the train station for three days.  The train station is right next to the Capitol, and close enough to the Mall that we could walk to the Smithsonian and the museums.  We got to see the Holocaust museum.  My friend from high school, Patti, picked us up one of the mornings and took us to breakfast.  It was a great weekend.  Both of these trips were after she was diagnosed....I am so glad I decided to go.  Some of my best memories were from those two weekends.

Oh...and after Melissa passed away, I told Donny it was really $500.  I can't lie either.

Our  best gifts from Melissa were handmade.  She was so creative and so talented...

Found this in the attic last Christmas.  Her Christmas present to us.

Two Christmas's ago, Donny found a box of her things that she brought home from college.

This was in it.

It's how we signed our letters to each other.

Melissa:

Love you,

Miss you

Till we meet again!

A letter to Melissa

The other day when I woke up I was thinking about what I would write for the seventh anniversary.  The more I thought about it, I thought it was time to write a letter to Melissa. (I've done that before - in a personal message on FB.  Just to her).  Later that day I had a message from Angie, her best friend from high school...and what do you know...Angie had the same idea.  It is beautiful, and says so much of what I would say.  Donny wanted me to share it on the blog.    My post will be in the next day or two.


A letter to Melissa....

Year 7
I'm pretty reflective all year long, but especially in the month of December..at least since you left us.

I remember distinctly about 9 years ago when we sat side by side on the bleachers watching a Fairmont High School volleyball game.  There were 2 little old women in the stands sitting together and you said "That will be us someday."  I realized when you said it that there was a good chance we'd never get to be those little old ladies...but oh how I wish that would have come true.  Most say that with time the pain gets easier, but I think that you just get more used to it.  The further away we get from you being gone the more it seems to hurt.  I'll get to all the positive things I've learned in a minute, but just let me get through the part where I tell you why it's hard.  Because as much as I know that there is far more to be grateful for than sad over, there is still a blaring reality to the hole that's been left in your absence.  I don't want you to eternally be 30.  I want you to get old with me and talk about wrinkles and gray hairs and the aching body parts.  But even if we can't be immortal, I know our friendship is.

It's the simplest of things I miss the most...picking up the phone to call you about the most random of stories or for your advice.  Your voice when you'd answer and just say "What's up?"  The way you'd get distracted during a phone call and just plain ignore me.  When I think of a memory and just want to call you and say "Remember when?"  I miss your stories the most.  The ones I'd get to hear first...then I'd hear you re-tell them a few times...getting a little grander and more expansive each time.

I have lots of friends, some I've even made since you left...but no one will ever hold a candle to you.  You were my female equivalent to a husband.  We had all kinds of ridiculousness but loved each other in spite of it ...  and yes, I take full responsibility for being the bigger drama queen.  What I wouldn't give though to have you here to argue about something pointless?  You know, like tampons. This isn't a reflection nohow I feel about any other relationship in my life, it's just to be noted that you  were it for me.  The one that only comes once in a lifetime.  Every time I think about you it resonates that you were one of a kind.  There's no one in the world like you.

Lots of amazing things have happened since you left...like super, mind-blowingly amazing.  I have a son, Bennett.  You would adore him.  His strong-will.  His social skills.  His chubby cheeks and stomping feet and a toothless smile that will light up a room.  He's a show stopper and a wrecking ball and he's all mine.  I want to share him with you.  I imagine the two of you in a room and I can't imagine anything but laughter and happiness because you would adore his spirit and he would love your energy.  It's so hard to explain you to him in words...you are not the type of person who can easily be explained.  You had to be known for a person to really understand who you were.

I met my match in a man, Allen.  Unconventional circumstances, but unlike any love I've ever know. He makes me feel whole, like I've found the piece I was missing.  We get each other.  We have the same goals.  We have adventures.  There is chaos.  He is great with Bennett.   But we are happy and it is easy.  There's no challenge too great if we work through it together.  You would like him.  He's my best friend now... not the same as you, but he's good at trying to understand my loss of you and just lets me cry and tell stories about you.  I think he understands how special you were and how much of me is tied to you.  You have no idea how much I value that.  If someone can't try to understand who you were and how much you meant, they can never understand me completely.


My biggest fear...is to forget.  I think for each year that passes that somehow I'm getting closer to losing memories or forgetting the little things about you that drove me crazy and that I adored.  I don't want your story to be any less strong from the day after you died to 20 years from now.  I can't comprehend that 7 years have passed.  That any of us have actually kept on living without you here.  But we have.  Because that is just how life works.

As for the good, there is so much.  I know you already know all of these things I'm telling you but it helps me to write it down.  It makes me feel it more.  I'm so grateful for all that your life and death have taught me.  You taught me that attitude and perspective make all the difference in the outcome.  You taught me that the little things that stress us out, are just that.  Little.  I see the bigger picture so much better now.  I am quick to apologize and don't hang on to anger.  Life is too short for that.  You've taught me that now is the time to be living.  Right now.   Since I lost you, I haven't been depressed..at least not in a way that I once was.  I believe I will never find that low place again because I paid attention.  I learned from you. I know you were mad, but I hope you see that I'm sorry and somehow it all turned out okay and I'll never be back there again.  I promise that.  My life was forever changed because you were a part of it.  You are with me every single day and so many of my choices comes from what I've learned from the way you lived.  I know I was lucky to have had you.  I just selfishly wish I had gotten more time and that we could be those old ladies at the volleyball game.  I'd give just about anything for an hour of your time just to catch up.  But I know that would never be enough.  There is a hole in me that will never be filled but I've always been at peace with why it happened this way and all that you gave to so many of us.  In the end, I'm just grateful to have had you by my side even if only for a short while.

Yesterday, I went to the Fortener family Christmas.  It's so nice to be invited to your family functions still.   Your mom told me, "You're the closest we can get to having Melissa there."  That's an honor.  I'm so thankful for your Mom, we have both needed each other many times and we use one another as our substitute for you.  I know she will never let me forget a thing.  She gave me a mug with your picture on it.  I treasure it.  It says Best Friends Forever...and I know that's what we will always be.
I miss you in the deepest way a person can be missed.


***
I couldn't have said it better.

Thank you Angie, for being such a good friend to Melissa.  Then AND now.  We love you.

REMINISCING

This time of year is not easy.

It starts with the Monday before Thanksgiving.  That's when Melissa went into the hospital for the final time.

When Melissa was first diagnosed, I was able to go to almost all of her appointments.  I really don't think I missed any.  I took a spiral notebook to every appointment to take notes...doctors names, phone numbers, medications, nurses names.  You name it, it was in the notebook.  Looking back, they were really a diary of the last month of her life.

When I am up to it, I go through the notebooks - even wrote down things she said and did.  I wanted to remember everything.

The last six Christmases were difficult.  Always put a small tree up and a few other decorations.  For the boys.  It took four Christmases to get the stockings out.  Five Christmases to look at ornaments, listen to Christmas music, watch Christmas shows.

This Christmas has been different.  Seven years coming up January 3.  My doctor, God love her, said "you don't have to suffer during the holidays.  You can start on an antidepressant in October and take it until March.  Just to get through the roughest months."  So I called in October, when I started spiraling.  I can feel it coming.

Not sure if I really like what it does to me...kind of makes me emotionless.  No ups.  No downs.  Just level.  And able to get through the roughest couple months of year for me.

This is not the first time I've gone through this.  In the past, holidays were overwhelming for me...all brought on by ... ME.  Decorate, bake, Christmas cards, buy gifts, wrap gifts and work full time.  I was crazy.  And depressed.  And I would yell.  And scream.  Literally.  Finally was able to get on an antidepressant and life was good.  I remember Melissa asking "Mom.  Why are you not yelling this year?...OH  I know...you're on drugs, aren't you????"  It was a good Christmas.

And this last month has not been bad.  I've gotten more done this year than in the last eight years.  And everything is done.  And it's still five days till Christmas.  

Today, Donny went through pictures - I'm making a slide show for the Fortener Christmas (which for the first time ever we've rented a hall - the family is getting too big for anyone's house!)

Going through pictures was pretty emotional today...but I accomplished the one thing I set out to do today.  The slideshow is ready.  Came across some pictures I thought I'd share here.  A blast from the
past.

This is Melissa with her cousins Jessica and Becky, from my side of the family.  She was probably about 3 here.  

Melissa, Nick and Melissa's best friend from high school, Angie.

Christmas family picture.  She was probably in college here.  Just keeps getting prettier...

The only three girl cousins on the Fortener side (out of 14).  Stephanie, Kim, Melissa.

A typical Fort expression...disgusted? frustrated? angry?  You never knew...

Melissa bought this shirt for Mere for Christmas.  Mere is a hugger.  Just like Nick.  Melissa, not so much....so when Mere came into the family, she needed to get used to those hugs.  Melissa was really good about finding perfect gifts for everyone.  This was PERFECT for Mere.

This photo was taken in September.  We went to Cracker Barrell and found this Santa Suit.  Had to get it for Drew.  It was a 12 month and barely fit him!  (he was 5 months old at the time).  Looking at these pictures is hard....this was only three months before she passed away.  She looks so healthy here...How could she go downhill so fast....

The pictures above and below were taken at Hospice.  Tried to get a family photo.  She looked pretty good here. Up, dressed, walking around.  How could she possibly be in Hospice????

Wearing one of her many Fairmont t-shirts.  Every coach from every sport at Fairmont gave her a t-shirt.  She wanted her dad to ask our friend (Jonnie) who worked in the Athletic office if she could get a couple Fairmont shirts when she was in the hospital.  She hated the hospital gowns.  All those shirts were made into a quilt for the fundraiser.  One of her good friends from high school, Tracy, won the quilt.  This shirt is on the quilt!

Enjoying a visit from Drew.  She loved his visits.  Always brought a smile to her face.  And that blanket?  It was her favorite.  Still keep it on the couch.  Year round.  Always will.

She finally got to come home from Hospice.  December 19.  The day we brought her home (a Friday) She told me she wanted to go to the girls basketball game at Fairmont.  I really didn't want her to go...too many germs.  What in the world was I thinking?  She wasn't going to get any sicker than she already was.  Plus, when the doctor came in, she said "Can I go to a basketball game?"  The doctor looked at me and said "She can do anything she wants to do.  Just needs to take her oxygen."  I got that "I told you so" look.  So we were going to take her.  But a friend came to visit the next morning, and she slept the rest of the day.  It was the one thing she wanted to do, and we never got to do it. That's why Donny and I started going to the girls games.  It was the only thing I could do in the winter for the longest time...several years as a matter of fact.  That year, Tim Cogan, the girls coach at Fairmont, started the Melissa Fortener McLaughlin B Positive Spirit Award for the girls basketball program.  Cassie Sant won the award that year. She went on to play for UD, then professional basketball overseas.  We still follow the Firebirds and the girls basketball program has taken over the FORT 5K.  Melissa would love that.

A visit from Aunt Sue (her Godmother) and Grandpa.  At the time, I thought she looked good.  When I look at the pictures now, I realize how thin she had gotten.  Just couldn't see it then. But she always had a smile on her face.

A friend of mine from Moraine Meadows asked her mom to come over to take pictures.

Our last family pictures.  Treasures. (Thanks Linda!)

She was getting ready - putting on makeup. I love this picture.

Last complete family picture.  

Someone said to her (about this picture) "You look like your mom!"

She said "Finally".

It took her her entire life, but she finally looked like me. She WANTED to look like me. Never would I have imagined she would feel that way.  I miss her so much....I love this picture....

Christmas morning.  Happy with her gifts.  It was a simple Christmas.  Just a few gifts (didn't have time to shop, wrap or bake that year)and just us.  She said "This is my best Christmas ever."

Mine too.

Fast forward seven years....

Nick & Max at his Kindergarten Christmas Program

Max & Pamma

Took the boys to see Santa

Max and Andrew are both readers.  Melissa was too when she was this age.  She kind of got away from her love of reading when she got to middle school and HAD to read.  Nick was a good reader, just didn't like to read (as I remember!)  Being a retired librarian...nothing makes me happier!!!

I can't believe it's been seven years.  How can that be possible?  How can it be that I haven't heard her voice, hugged her, seen her in seven years?  So much has happened, but it feels like yesterday.

I miss her so much.  Every single day.  Over 2500 days.  

She was my best friend.  My confidant.  My beautiful daughter.  I feel so blessed that she called me Mom.  

All that's left are memories.  

Make some memories with the ones you love.  Take pictures.  Write things down.  Enjoy the holidays.    

I think this Christmas will be a good one.  I'm trying anyway.  And always remembering Melissa...

Meeting Emily

I've "known" Emily for almost seven years.  She friended me on Facebook six days after Melissa passed away.

I received a beautiful message from Emily.  She was extending her sympathy for our loss...and also introducing herself.

She first got to know Melissa through the article she wrote for the Cincinnati Weekly.  She was a genetics counselor, working as a sales rep for the lab that did the BRCA testing.  She happened to come across the article when she was in an oncologists office in Cincinnati.  Melissa's blog address was at the end of the article.  That's when Emily started reading the blog.  Then she realized that they had something in common...she went to OU too!  And they had mutual friends, although they didn't know each other.

Emily sent me messages occasionally over the last seven years.  When I moved dad into assisted living, I posted about it on the blog.  Got another message from Emily - she and her husband had just moved to Melbourne!

I had been there several times, but never had the chance to call Emily.  Always busy with dad.

We were going to wait and surprise dad on Monday morning when we picked him up for his procedure.  I just didn't want to wait - we were only going to be there for a week and I wanted to see him every day.  So right after we checked into our hotel, we went to his place.  We knew he would be at dinner, which was perfect.  We went up to his floor and sat in the lobby outside his room.  He spends a lot more time at dinner than I realized.  He goes to dinner at 4:30 - thought we'd only have to wait 10-15 minutes (got there at 5).  He finally got off the elevator at 6:30....and walked right past us!
As soon as he got into his room, I called him.  When I heard his phone ringing, I knocked on his door.  He answered the phone saying "hold on a minute, someone's at the door".  When he opened it, he had the BIGGEST smile on his face.  He was SO happy to see us.

All that worrying for nothing.  I was sure the first thing he would say was "did you bring my car?".  But it wasn't.  We talked for half an hour before he asked about the car.  It went a lot better than I expected.

We didn't stay too long because we had to get up early the next morning.  On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at Coasters Bar & Grill - the place Rob wanted to take dad. (Rob helped us find dad's assisted living place).  After I ordered, I sent Rob a message, thanking him for helping us find Victoria Landing, how they take such good care of dad and how much he loves it.  I hit "send" and literally seconds later he was behind me! He was there and we didn't see him.  I posted the story and the picture on FB.

One of the responses to the post was from Emily.  She and her husband were there that night too!!!!   Since I had never met Emily, I wouldn't have known her if she was sitting next to us.  I sent her a message and we decided to meet for breakfast.  

Wow.  Not only did Melissa have wonderful friends, she attracted wonderful people too...that I have the pleasure to get to know now.  Melissa would love Emily.  She's a lot like her.  I don't think I told Emily that in the almost two hours we spent together with her youngest son, Ryan.  We had a lot to talk about.    Found out that Emily knows Dr. Romer (in fact had been in Dr. Romer's office - kind of wonder if Melissa was ever there when Emily was there!) and one of her surgeons.  Small world keeps getting smaller.

I'm so glad that we finally got to meet.  She said "I have two friends on Facebook that I've never met. You were one of them."  So glad we changed that!

Meeting Emily was one of the highlights of the week with dad.  Spending time with him and his friends and my cousins from Utah & Texas - and cousins from Dayton who happened to be in Florida made the trip even better.  And exhausting.

Nick just happened to be in San Diego on business while we were in Florida.  He went to see the Midway (the aircraft carrier dad served on in the Navy).  He Facetimed us when he was walking onto the ship - it was really cool.  Dad loved it!

We got to spend some time with dad at one of the activities they have - they called it Karaoke, but it was more of a sing-along.  Although when we walked in the room, dad was front and center with the microphone in his hand!  The activities director very gently took it out of dad's hands so they could hear everyone instead of just dad!  

It was a great visit. And it ended on a good note too...I had a visit from Melissa the last night we were there!  Interesting thing, I got a message from her friend Misti that she had a visit from Melissa the same night!  She must have needed to see us as much as we needed to see her.  

***

Had lots to catch up on when I got home.  Lots of errands on Monday, the bank was one.  Wasn't sure if what I needed to do could be done at the counter or if I needed to talk to someone in the office.  So I stuck my head in the office door and ask if she could help me.  She invited me in and when I sat down, I realized she looked familiar - so I said that.  She said "it's because I was friends with Melissa".  She was Melissa's best friend in grade school.  Lived down the street.  I haven't seen her probably since Melissa was in fifth grade.  Always good to run into friends of Melissa's.  

***

And, as always, like Fort did, I end with Andrew. 

Before we left, we got to go to Andrew's last football game.  It was against the Firebirds.  Semi-finals.  They lost in OT.  Great way to start the trip too.

And it just keeps getting busier...went to OSU vs. U CONN women's basketball game last night, Versailles tonight for a basketball game and meet a friend and his wife for drinks, Thomas Windlow on Friday (I'll post after that) and a wedding this weekend.  

Probably good for me to stay busy this time of year.  If I stop to think about the holidays for even a minute...

Love you miss you Melissa.  Every minute of every day.

Fun with Dad

I feel like I'm living in a movie.  Like Nebraska.

If you've never seen it, it's about an elderly man who gets tons of mail telling him he's won a million dollars.  The movie is funny and sad and true.  It didn't take place in a nursing home, but it could have.  Maybe he should have been in a nursing home where he might be protected from what I think is elder abuse.

Ok, before I start this story, I want to say that I am privileged to know many wonderful nurses.  And I know this is part of their job...because if they didn't give us all this information and something happened...just don't want to go there.  If we can't laugh about these things (after the fact) we would go crazy.  So on with the story...

My dad lives in a wonderful assisted living facility.  My sister Donna and I came down to visit since he was having a procedure that his doctor described as "complicated".  It was outpatient, and I'm wondering why they don't keep people at least 24 hours - since we were told "the first 24 hours are critical.  "Here is what you need to do when you get him home."

Really?  Critical and we (who have no medical knowledge OR training) are supposed to make sure that we know what to do if he starts bleeding.  "He can bleed to death in less than 5 minutes.  Here's how you stop the bleeding.  Press down on the bleed with one hand, press your fist on that hand and call 911" I even asked why they don't keep them - after they scared the shit out of both of us - Oh.  "Because it only happens in 1 out of 100,000 cases."

I realize that even with pharmaceuticals they have to list every side effect even if only one person had that side effect.  It's crazy.  I remember when Melissa would be on a new chemo.  The doctor would hand her a brochure that had information about the meds.  It also listed all the side effects (at least a full page of side effects usually).  She would hand it to me.  "Here.  If I read it, I will get all the side effects!"  If she got a head ache, a rash, or any kind of ache or pain, I could tell her - "it's ok.  It's one of the side effects".

That's why they scared the shit out of us.  Because dad might be the 1 in 100,000.
But I'm getting off the subject here.

This story is about my dad and his friends where he lives.  It is a WONDERFUL Assisted Living  place. And there is LOTS of material for a great movie.

It started with dad's procedure.  When it was done - he was in recovery for four hours.  That's when the nurse gave us the "here's what you need to do when you get him home" speech.  And oh.  By the way.  "Can you spend the night with him? You really don't want to leave him alone tonight".  He shouldn't walk very far.  He can't cross his legs.  Or his feet.  He can't sit in his recliner.  He can't bend at the waist.  If he does "it could break loose and he could bleed to death in less than five minutes" (that's what we kept hearing.  maybe she only said it once, but that's all I was hearing)
He has to sit in a hard back chair (he doesn't have one)  "How about a firm couch?"  "Ok".

Ok.  We are visiting because he is having this procedure.  We'll spend the night.  She hands us several pages of paperwork and helps dad get dressed.  I get his clothes out of the closet give her his shoes - which right away he picks his foot up to put his shoes on and she yells "NO. Put your foot down.  You can't lift your foot.  We don't want you to bleed! I will pick your foot up."  So she puts his shoes on.  Then his shorts.  Then shirt.

We are scared to death to even take him in the car.  Will a bump cause him to bleed?  Will the seatbelt cause him to bleed?  What if he coughs?  and oh my god, what if he has to poop?  "Don't bear down" How do you NOT bear down when you are pooping?  (I am laughing about this now, but it was NOT funny yesterday!)  I pray that he doesn't have to have a bowel movement in the next 24 hours.

Ok.  So we head to the hotel (the nice hotel on the beach with a balcony where we can see the sunrise every morning that we will be paying for even though we won't be staying there one night) to pick up our something to wear, our toothbrushes and some reading material.   They are gracious enough to loan us blankets and pillows since dad doesn't have any extras in his little apartment (which is beautiful by the way!)

We get to his place, they have a wheelchair waiting for him.   The nurse, the CNA, some of his friends welcome him.  They are WONDERFUL there.  We get him in the wheelchair...ok, he PLOPS down in the wheelchair.  I panic - OMG - look for blood....whew.  No blood. He's ok.  Start heading toward the elevator to his room, the CNA says "Where is his pendant?" (that's like a life alert)  "It's going off.  Where is it?"

I don't know.  Dad says "The nurse put it in my shoe when she took my clothes off  and put it in the closet at the doctors office.  Did you get it?"
"No dad. I didn't get it."
Did you get it Donna?
"No."

So we head up to the room.  His pendant is still going off at the nurses station.  It only works at his assisted living place.  It has to be here somewhere.  They take him up to his room.  It's STILL going off.

Alright.  I'll go down to my car. Maybe it fell out of his pocket. If he put it in his pocket. He forgets things sometimes.  I'll bet he put it in his pocket and he dropped it somewhere.  I head down to the lobby - search the lobby.  Not there.  Search my car.  Not there.  Where the hell is it???? It's got to be here somewhere!

I go back up to the room.  Donna says "I called the doctors office.  They are closed.  We have to call in the morning."

The thing is STILL going off.  It's here somewhere.

We are stymied.

Then I remember.  When we were walking out of the doctors office, dad says "My heel hurts.  Why would my heel hurt?"

"I don't know dad.  I don't know why this procedure would affect your FEET."

I go over to dad.  "Dad.  Let me look in your shoe."

And whadda ya know... there it is.  In his shoe.

Mystery solved.

And that was just the beginning.

***
Another side note.  Melissa started walking when she was around 11 months old.  Back then, you bought your babies hard soled white shoes (anyone remember this?) when they started walking.  Donny was putting Melissa's shoes, she kept crying saying "Cockadoodle!  Cockadoodle!"  as he was struggling to get her foot in the shoe.  Finally he pulled the shoe off and out fell the rooster from the Fisher Price Farm set - small enough to fit in a tiny shoe....History repeats itself.
***

ROUTINES & Hearing Aides

As we get older, we all get into certain routines.  My morning routine is a cup of coffee, read the paper, take a walk.

I think routines help our memory.  They give us something to look forward to.

Whenever I call dad and I ask him what he's doing, he always says "Let's see.  It's Monday.  Today I have..." whatever.  It's the same every week.  Mondays are trips to the grocery.  Tuesdays are doctors appointments.  Wednesday's are Mass and Communion in the morning and Happy Hour at 4.

He has something to look forward to every day.  When he goes to the dining room for meals, he sits with the same three guys.  Four branches of the service are represented, Army, Air Force, Navy, Marines.  They have something in common.

When Donny and I visited in June, we had dinner with dad and had the pleasure of meeting all of them at dinner.  As soon as we sat down, the question was directed to me "Where is Irv's car?  We need transportation."  (I brought dad's car home after we moved him into Assisted Living because he wasn't released to drive).  Not sure, but I think they must be planning an escape...although I don't know why.  I love where they live.  A view of the Indian River, a nice dining room with a chef, transportation to appointments and the grocery, entertainment, they do their laundry, clean their apartments, give them showers...I want to live there!

Another routine - sitting at the same table, same seat at every meal.  He gets there half an hour early to get HIS table.  And save seats for his buddies.  We got there for lunch yesterday, we were late, because he was sleeping and we didn't want to wake him up.  Someone was sitting at his table.  That didn't go over very well.  But we got the table right next to it.  After the people who were sitting there left, one of his buddies came in and sat at their table.  Dad looks at us and in a VERY loud voice says "his daughter must weigh 300 pounds. She can't even fit in the chair!"  Loud enough  that everyone in the place could hear him.  But no one seemed to notice.  Maybe none of them wear their hearing aides.  Maybe they just don't care.

There were five women sitting at another table next to us.  One of the women leaned over and said to us "your dad helped me with Wii bowling.  I threw three strikes after he helped me".  Then one of the other women got up, walked by dad and said "She was flirting with you".  Loud.  Dad didn't even react.  I'm sure he didn't hear her.

Donna was walking down the hall and two men were ahead of her.  The one right in front of her said to the guy in front of him "why are you walking so slow?  You got a load in your pants?"  No reaction.

That's what I am looking forward to when I get older.   You can say what you want because no one will hear you.

We are having such a good time with dad.  It's always hard to leave him.  Still have a big day ahead of us - my cousins from Utah, Texas and southern Florida will be visiting tomorrow.  I know it will be good for dad to see all of them.  A mini family reunion.

But I also know as good as it will be to see everyone, when we go, he will go back to his routines.  He isn't even asking about his car much anymore.  He is settling in.  And nothing makes me happier.