This was the title of this past Sundays sermon. I actually applied it to myself. Tom was saying in most situations we “run the numbers” to see if something would work and often leave God out of it.
Next month it will be FIVE years since I left Mercy hospital. I took the summer off to spend with my girls as all three would be home that summer most likely for the last time. I was trying to figure out my next job when I ran across the posting on Indeed looking for a volunteer nurse for Camp Kesem Washington University. I applied and got the job. It was a great week and when I was told Maine was looking for a nurse I jumped on board. Maine was also an incredible week and I got all emotional thinking about not being able to come next year because I would be the new person, least seniority, not enough time off and on and on at the new job. I never once gave God a second thought about this.
In true God fashion he said “here Rachel hold my beer” and bam covid hit. All camps were cancelled that summer so I didn’t miss any Kesem or Big Stuf. The next summer Big Stuf was on and I got the time off. The following summer Kesem was back in session but another coworker was going to Ireland the same week as Maine so I did a camp in Arizona instead. This past summer I did Arkansas, Wash U and Maine. While at Arkansas the girl that would be in charge of 2024 camp for Oklahoma was helping out. She said to me, you must do Oklahoma next year. Then when I went to Maine, the camp advisor was one of the counselors from Arizona the year before. He also told me I must do his camp in 2024. His camp is also in Arizona but a different university. I remember saying I’m going to need a different job. They said to me let us pay you and not volunteer. I said money is not the issue, it’s the time off. I thought to myself there is no way I can have five weeks off next summer.
In January God said once again “umm Rachel, hold my beer.” I have worked in the only unit that is borderline over staffed. We have had a part time RN position on hold for six months. Three days after my surgery I found out they were going to fill it. I wanted to bang my head on the wall and say why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me. And then I realized I could do all five camps this summer. So I announced my plans to everyone. Some of the camps don’t run all week so I can do camp and still work thereby hoarding my vacation time. As Brian always says, all I do is go on vacation.
This Monday the new girl has decided we have too much staff and is looking to drop to prn. I immediately panic and think I’m not going to be able to do camp. I’m texting people about it. So at the end of the day she is telling me her thoughts and plans and I swear God is yelling “did you even listen on Sunday. How many times do I have to tell you that I have this covered?” I guess he will have to beat me over the head for me to get this straight.
Mole Moral ~ God has my back on camp and this summer is going to be amazing.
It’s been two and a half years since my father passed. His wife gave me and my sister all his shirts and flannels. She specifically asked me not to make her a quilt out of his shirts as it would be too painful to look at. She asked me to do something with his ties so I made this pillow.
He had some ugly ties, but that’s ok he’s dead and it won’t hurt his feelings.
I decided I wanted my quilt made out of the flannels and Karen wanted the shirts. So after I cut all the flannels up my sister says to me, you saved one for Sierra right? Remember she wanted one. And in slow motion like Christmas Story the F word went off slowly in my head. So I had to go to plan B. I decided I would make her one as well and do hers first. I finished hers for her graduation from college. If you look at the solid squares you will notice it forms a C for Carty. It resembles well the way my dad makes a C. The middle square has a pocket and in it is one of my dads monogrammed handkerchiefs.
It was probably six months before I finished mine. My goal was to embroider all the Carty’s names and dates since when my father died, the Carty line ended. His dad had five sisters and no brothers. My dads oldest brother adopted a son but he passed at forty-five and did not have any children. His middle brother did not have kids. I still have not done this but here’s my quilt. It is slightly bigger than Sierra’s I have a pocket dead center but have not put a handkerchief in it yet.
After this I put the top to my sisters quilt together. I started hand quilting when my new dog decided to chew the thread. Trying to unwind it was a nightmare and it came off in little pieces. I went to replace it and they didn’t have that color anymore. So it sat in my room forever. About four weeks before Christmas I decided I was finishing it. Back in October I had done a quilt for my uncle and in one of the squares I thought it would be cool to put Love , Eddie in Eddie’s handwriting. I got to thinking if the tattoo artist could get my dads signature on my arm, perhaps there was a way with material. Thanks to the magic of the internet, I found a blog about Sulky stabilizer. Basically you can print from computer onto it. Then you peel it off and it sticks to material. Embroider over the lines and then when the quilt is washed the stabilizer disappears leaving only the thread behind. Originally I had planned for my sister to use washable fabric marker to make this little guy she always drew on her cards to my dad.
However now that I could print from my computer and my dads wife gave me every piece of paper from his work, I had a gold mine of information and creativity. So here is the quilt and then I will give an explanation of each square. This information is for my kids but feel free to continue reading if you are interested.
When my dad was in Shriners having surgery on his legs, he spent a lot of time reading as there was nothing else to do. He was an avid reader for the rest of his life. When I asked for the book Flowers In The Attic, he bought it for me but read it first. He said to me “I’m not sure I should let you read this, it may warp you for life.” I still have the book and now you all know why I’m like the way I am.
My dad became very weird about his birthday. When he turned fifty, my sister snuck over to his house and decorated his yard. When he woke up that morning, he called me and went off on me. So when I called her to tell her he yelled at me, she cancelled our birthday dinner.
We would go out, just the three of us for our birthdays. Eventually it became a nightmare to schedule so we just went for his. We were at Pasta House in Arnold one year when the waiter asked who was ordering first. The following square is what flew out of my sisters mouth. Thank God the waiter kept it on the down low and quietly brought a small piece of cake.
My dad rode a bike all of his life. I remember him riding 50 miles on the Katy trail more than once. My dad wasn’t your normal biker. He never ever wore shorts and always rode in jeans. He did not have a fancy seat either. He gave me his bike a few years back when his knee could no longer take pedaling. My sister got a bike tattoo after he passed. Ho-hum was something he said a lot when we talked on Saturdays. I can still hear him say it.
His applications for top security clearance included every address he had lived at. So I managed to scan them and then line them up so that I could put them on this quilt. They are also in his handwriting.
My dads first birthday after he passed Karen and I planned to go to Salem. We also wanted to find the farm where he grew up. Back in those days his address was John Carty Doss MO. That was not real helpful. I had only been to the farm twice. The first time around the age of ten when the farmhouse burned to the ground. It was believed to be intentionally set by the owners for the insurance. The second time was in 2015 when my dad took Emily and I to Salem and to the farm. I reached out to a person on ancestry but they never responded. However I found a newspaper clipping about it being sold thirty-five years ago and it’s location. It was in the Carty family for almost one hundred years.
One time on the way home from seeing the grandparents I had the hiccups pretty bad. When my dad said this to me, I fully believed him. It scared me and I didn’t hiccup again the rest of the trip.
The quilt wouldn’t be complete without my dads handwriting and his favorite car. He was obsessed with corvettes all his life. One of his work buddies still has his corvette he owned in the 2000’s.
I was at Arnold park about a week before I started all this embroidery when a guy was smokinga pipe. My dad smoked one for a while when I was in grade school. As for the saying below it, it’s a classic. My sister was having a crises in December and when she called my dad to tell him, he said these words and hung up on her. So now anything we don’t want to deal with we quote our dad.
The next two squares are his brothers and their wives and wedding dates. As well as his parents signature and wedding date. It was awesome to find them in all of the stuff I have. And also my dads phone number when he lived on Cavendish Ln. This was before the area code had to be dialed.
And the very last square. The words are from a card my dad gave to my sister. The car is his first roadster that he had custom built back in the day. My sister loved that car and it was TOD to her if he died. He ended up selling it and getting a new one for a total of four old looking cars. This car was also the picture on his funeral card and what we glued onto his parents tombstone in Salem.
Although this is my sisters quilt I must point out something. My dad was a huge KSHE 95 fan and looking at the shirt I realized his first daughter was born in 1967 (me) and his first granddaughter (Emily) in 1992. That must be why he kept the shirt all these years. Hahaha.
Mole Moral ~ Good things came to those who wait, and this gift is worth more than any amount of money!
This was my twentieth year of being a Christmas Angel. When it was revealed to me who to do I was very excited because both people lived within ten minutes of me. Usually it’s either one person forty five minutes away or two people in opposite directions. For the first time ever I decided to find the houses in advance. So my dog Charlie and I stopped for a coffee and then off we went. The first house I passed the road (if you could call it that) up. It turned out there are three whole houses with my angel house at the end. No place to turn around, park or hide. So off to the next house which was even worse. At the top of 1/4 mile hill straight up and only room for one car. They were the only house and to even turn around the headlights shine straight into the two triple windows with ZERO window coverings. The house is in the middle of woods so no one can see in. So my options were drive up the hill turn around and then try and sneak to the door or park at the bottom of the hill and walk forever. I was mildly panicked about how to pull this off but I knew I would.
So I called my sister and told her she’s helping me. She lives in the middle of both of them so I would pick her up. I convinced her to do the running and I would be the getaway driver.
Night one, first house was foreshadowing of the entire event. My sister jumps out of car and takes off. As she runs back the lady opens the door and I’m like hurry up. So then I say which one did you take. She said they are both the same. I said no they are different ornaments and the other one is for someone who has passed and theirs is three musketeers. So we thought she was going to have to go back to the door and exchange but luckily she grabbed the right one. This house was a little easier because they always took a while to answer the door except for day 11. The entire family was over and my sister decided to hide between cars to watch them grab it. They all come out looking for her so she just had to make a run for it while they all were yelling and laughing tell us who you are. She managed to trip and fall over her own two feet.
Meanwhile over in the house in the woods. My sister decides we will park about 1/2 way up the hill while she tromps through the woods crunching leaves, getting hit in the face with branches to sneak up the side of the house. Somehow she managed not to fall. The second night she gets out of the car and heard someone say you got the present. Freaks her out and we realize someone is leaving so we go back down the hill wait for them to leave and then sneak back up. Day 3 we had a nice note left on the door. My sister asked what the persons name was and when I told her it turns out she went to high school with her and her x husband had a crush on me in middle school. He was like four years younger than me and I was like gross. Anyway super small world. On my dads birthday we decided to go at ten am and low and behold someone was walking down their road. My sister freaks out and says what do we do. I said smile and wave, keep driving like we are lost. So we make it to turn around and she said I’m dropping this off. Makes it almost to door and swears she is being stared out so throws present on top of tree trunk and runs back.
So on the last day since we were almost caught too many times I decided we would knock and talk to the people. The first people have been married 71 years and don’t look a day over 60. They both thanked us repeatedly and told us it was so much fun and made it the best Christmas ever. The wife had just got off phone with the kids. They had called from the lake to see if they had found out who it was yet. Wife hugged me and whispered thank you for making this so special as it will be our last Christmas most likely. I really hate cancer, only the nice people seem to get it. They also thought my sister was a teenager because she ran so fast.
Our other house remembered my sister and her name. The person walking up their road that day was not known to her. However they did see my sister throw the present on the tree trunk but couldn’t figure out why she threw it. They also thought she was a little kid. She said this really brightened her Christmas as well and thanked me a million times.
My point to all this is, the joy I brought these people by such a fun and simple thing was better than any gift I received. The gifts were small and simple but it made them wonder who it was and what would come the next day. It gave them something to focus on besides the circumstances which caused our paths to cross.
Mole Moral ~ It certainly is better to give than to receive.
It hadn’t even been month since school started and I must have been looking for Gena and Leah to see what they were doing. I finally found them down on the student parking lot smoking. I walked up to them and asked why they didn’t tell me. They both said they were afraid I would be mad at them for smoking so had been doing it in secret. Yes I am a rule follower and a slight goody two shoes but I think I surprised them both by demanding a cigarette. This is how smoking during nursing school started. I would eventually quit after nursing school and then prn throughout the rest of my life. Gena finally quit in 2021 and my best guess is Leah quit after she left nursing school. However for the next year and a half we would smoke together and because it was 1985 we could smoke in the dorm. None of us (including my roommate) ever smoked in our rooms but we did smoke in our floor lounge. They had stopped selling cigarettes in the hospital gift shop but the gas station was only a short walk away. Actually the gas station is still on Hampton.
I had my first cigarette in fifth grade when my teen-age baby sitter Jenny gave me one of hers. I ended up vomiting and having a huge headache but I would smoke a cigarette every once in a while up until I started nursing school. My mom found out about my smoking because I left a letter from one of my high school friends laying around the house. In it he said he would quit drinking, if I quit smoking. He would eventually start smoking himself and also became an alcoholic. So if I play the comparison game, smoking prn is a much better option than drinking which I was never interested in.
Mole Moral ~ Pastor Tom always says, “you are who you hang with” and in nursing school we were a bunch of smokers because the stress was unbelievable.
An event occurred yesterday which triggered all sorts of memories about nursing school so I decided to do a series of blogs about my adventures in nursing school. Some of them are just plain funny now but were not at the time. Some of them will reflect the nursing culture of the time and some can be used in current life. I see my best friend from nursing school, Gena at least four to six times a year. She always says to me I don’t know how you remember this stuff. Yet I cannot remember what happened yesterday. I have been told many times I should write a book. I find that way too overwhelming, plus I cannot spell and I have syntax issues so my legacy will be my blog.
So it was April or May of 1985 and I had been accepted into Lutheran School of Nursing. I had toured the dorm and the school. I had a friend who was attending at the time as well. However, that year Lutheran decided they would not accept any financial aid. This was a huge roadblock for me, as I qualified for financial aid and planned to use it. So I found myself scrambling for another nursing school. I do not remember how I found out about Deaconess College of Nursing but I applied and was accepted. I remember meeting with the lady that would be my pediatric rotation instructor. I should have ran out right then but then I wouldn’t have all these stories to tell.
Although Deaconess was thirty minutes from my house, I planned to live on campus. I did not have a car so commuting was not an option. I remember specifically requesting a roommate that did not smoke. Yes back in those days we put smokers together in hospital rooms so they could smoke. Anyway my roommates name was Kathy and although she did smoke we lived together through first semester of second year until she had to commute to save on tuition. Sadly I lost touch with her shortly after graduation but have thought of her many times over the years.
That first night the boys had a party. Oh I digress. The male nurses had their own house about two blocks away. They were not allowed to live in the girl dorms and all males had to be signed in and out. Also all males had to leave by ten pm. If you were caught with a boy overnight you were expelled from nursing school. I am sure a couple girls pulled it off but I was such a rule follower there was no way I would ever attempt that. So at this lame party I would meet Gena and Leah. They both lived on my floor as well. St. Elmo’s Fire had come out that summer and Gena reminded me of Mare Winningham. We became instant friends.
School would start the next day in which anything lower than a seventy-six percent was a fail. I just knew every single day for three years that I was going to fail out. So much pressure and it hasn’t changed much over the past thirty-five years. Of course I did not ever fail a class and actually never made less than a B. I must say my self confidence has not improved much over the years.
Mole Moral ~ Last minute change led to an incredible friendship.
I’m not even going to apologize for writing this blog. I was so excited to be going back to Maine for Kesem. I had attended in 2019 and it was their first camp. They did an amazing job then, and they did another amazing job.
There were a couple returning campers, one of whom really touched my heart four years ago. It was so good to see her and how much she’s grown. She’s a full fledged teenager now on the verge of driving. As for her brother he was a shrimp in 2019 and now stands almost six foot tall. I showed him the picture I had on my phone from messy games that year and he was like hey that’s me.
I’ve had a couple people ask if camp is really something the kids always remember. Yes it is and now that it’s in its twenty-third year some of the counselors were kids that attended camp which leads me to a very heartwarming story.
Three siblings parents divorced when they were younger. Their mom was awarded full custody. She ended up getting cancer and passing when they were teenagers. They originally went to live with their father but ended up split up in foster care. Imagine their surprise the following summer when they ran into each other at the same camp Kesem.
At Washington university camp one of the counselors shared her story. Her mom was diagnosed with cancer and went into remission. It came back with a vengeance and her mom passed when she was 15-16. All of her camp friends came to the funeral to support her. This is what I consider Kesem magic.
This week the kids painted rocks and almost everyone forgot theirs. In our neighborhood a neighbor has a rock dragon.
One of the counselors name was pants. I asked her if there was a meaning behind her name. She said nope just came up with pants and now everyone calls her that, including her bosses. She was a lot of fun and very good with the little kids. Here is her rock.
So I asked her if she wanted it. She said she did until I told her about the rock dragon and then told me to add it to the tail. So yesterday Charlie and I walked down the hill in 100 degree heat to add the kesem rocks to it. Now a little part of Maine is in Arnold.
One of my favorite parts about Kesem, is the paper plate awards. I find it interesting how I am seen in the eyes of others. I must admit they are usually spot on. Here are two of my favorites, one from Wash U and the other from Maine.
I was talking with the program coordinator about next year and I said I really need to win the lottery. She replied with “you should let us pay you.” I said “oh the money is not the issue, it’s the time off of work.” However I have felt called to do camp since I started attending Big Stuf with my church, if I’m meant to be there God will find a way. I know the reason I was able to attend Maine this year. I helped someone in a way that only Nurse Red could. And I made another young person friend.
Mole Moral~ As the sign says in the camp dining hall
It was the summer of 2019 and I had left Mercy and took the summer off to figure out what I would do next with my career. I was looking on Indeed for jobs when I came across a posting that Washington University was looking for a volunteer camp nurse for Camp Kesem. The only thing I really knew was that it was for kids whose parents have or had or have passed away from cancer. So I applied was interviewed by two college kids (thought they were grown adults over the phone) and offered the position.
I had an amazing week and two weeks later I jumped on a plane and flew to Maine to help University of Maine out. I was blown away by the college kids who put on these camps. They fundraiser all year long, have meetings they attend and then give a week out of their summer to go to camp. As I left Maine I made up my mind if my next job wouldn’t give me off, I would quit and find a new one. This problem was avoided as covid hit and camp was virtual for two years which meant no nurse needed.
Camp Kesem was started in 2000 at Stanford University by college student Iris “Abra Cadabra” Rave Wedeking and a group of student leaders. They wanted to create a camp at little to no cost to families. After assessing the needs of the community they found that kids whose parents have or had cancer had a unique set of needs and were underserved. The first camp was held in 2001, free of charge to 37 campers. Camp Kesem national was founded in 2002. It has a grown to more than 130 college and university chapters in 44 states and the District of Columbia.
Kesem in Hebrew is magic. Camp Kesem is magic. For one week the kids can be kids and not focused on their parents cancer. Everyone chooses a camp name (hence Nurse Red because Big Red might be awkward) and no one uses their real name. As a nurse who has spent the greater part of her career purposely not remembering patients name to avoid HIPAA violations, I can barely remember camp names much less real names. So giving out medicine can be tricky and the only time real names are used. These kids look forward to this camp every year. Cancer is not spoken about (if brought up in causal conversation that is ok) except for at empowerment. It is a special two hour time period that I will not share. It’s a big part of the magic and words cannot describe it.
Karl the caterpillar became the mascot. A caterpillar was chosen because the kids often arrive very closed off, shy, timid. By the end of the week a complete transformation has occurred. They have come out of their shell, are engaged in activities and just kids. I witnessed this first hand in Maine. It was my only camper on medicine and she was mad she couldn’t keep her medicine with her. She was even madder she couldn’t bring her phone to camp. She sat like a bump on a log that evening. As the week went on she was laughing, smiling, participating in activities and was so excited to tell her mom all about camp. This was one of many reasons I said I would quit my job if I couldn’t be off for camp.
So the Karl I’m holding belong to Oklahoma University but I was at University of Arkansas camp. In true college movie life it seems Oklahoma broke something of Arkansas so they stole Karl. However at the end of camp Karl headed back to Oklahoma. I’m so glad he’s back where he belongs. The camp advisor for Arkansas came from Arizona State University so I knew him from last years camp. He is ASU director next year and informed me I’m doing his camp. The director for Oklahoma University next year was also at this camp and informed me I’m doing her camp as well. This means I’m up to six camps next year. I either need to win the lottery or convince the butt hut they can survive half of the summer without me.
Mole Moral ~ Jesus came to serve others, not be served. I am most happy when I serve others and Camp Kesem is the perfect place to accomplish this for me!!
Its hard to believe it had been three years since I attended my first camp Kesem with Washington University. I had taken the summer off between jobs to spend with my three girls, Emily had a travel assignment in Missouri, Kayla was close in Springfield and Allyson would be leaving in the fall for college. I had started looking for jobs to try and figure out what I wanted to do next with my career when I came across a listing on indeed for a volunteer camp nurse to spend one week with kids whose parents who had/have cancer. I thought wow that might be fun and with my school nurse experience and Big Stuf camp experience I might just get the position. So I applied and it wasn’t too long before I was called for an interview. At the time I had no idea I was speaking to two college kids with the camp names of Beaker and Pele, I really thought I was talking to some office people on an official interview. Anyway they told me I had the position on the spot pending background check so I was pretty excited. I had a blast that year! We had around thirty-five campers if I remember correctly. The other nurse could only attend the first half and she was Chaco. She showed me the ropes and I really liked her. I think she was from Alabama. The second half of the week Seven showed up. He picked his name because he fell like seven times while hiking a trail. I knew we were meant to be friends. I had an amazing week and could not wait until next year. I even got asked to do a second camp in Maine two weeks later. It was also amazing and you can read about it here.
I knew three years ago that if my new job wouldn’t let me off to attend Wash U then I would quit and find a new one. Well I didn’t have to be quite so drastic since covid hit and shut down the entire world. Camp Kesem would be virtual in both 2020 and 2021 and obviously there wasn’t a need for a nurse. Last week I was stalking their instagram site and I discovered the Gibby and Fin were the directors last year. This just made me hate covid even more than I already did. In person camp would have totally rocked with those two in charge. All the girls had crushes on Fin and everyone loved to say Gib by Gib by over and over. So this year was all new college kids because all the old counselors have graduated. Beaker is in med school and Pele had a full time job after camp in 2019. I text these kids from time to time to check in on them and see what they are up to. Back to the present, all the counselors this session were just as wonderful. It just blows me away that they become involved in this organization while in college. They raise money all year long to pay for camp as it is free for the kids. Then they give a week of their summer up to spend non stop time with the kids. I do know that usually when you give of your time and talents you tend to get just as much if not more than what you give.
This year the directors were Eggo and Brother and both did an amazing job of keeping everything running smoothly. This year they didn’t have an admin cabin but rather the admin was mixed in with the campers. This prevented me from getting to know the admin team as well because there was no hanging out with them after the late night meetings.
The nurse this year was Birdie. I liked her the minute i met her on zoom a few days before. For starters she was currently doing Mizzou’s camp Kesem which meant Wash U would have the camp site to ourselves. Birdie just finished nursing school and passed boards. She went through an accelerated one year program which means she’s super smart and can handle stress like a champ. Of course she kept denying being smart but this old nurse knows better. She lives in Florida and after Wash U she left for Maine to do the camp I did three years ago. I was unable to attend due to scheduling conflicts at my job but I am thrilled she is there this week. Anyway we had a great week together. We both agreed messy games were the best as you can see by our before and after pictures.
It is now July of 2023 and I just realized I never finished or posted this blog. I will do it now because I am again doing Wash U and Maine. I was just asked to do a three day camp in Arkansas and it actually worked out with my work schedule. I cannot wait for three amazing Camp Kesem’s this summer.
Mole Moral~ I get more out of these camps than I give because that’s how serving others works.
Blake is the third kid God has put in my life through BigStuf camp. He was a seventh grader when I met him. I believe he was diagnosed at the age of six with type 1 diabetes and had an insulin pump. From my nursing experience most peoplewith a pump know way better than any hospitalist how to manage their blood sugars. I have never worked with the pediatric population but I have a feeling the same is true. I wasn’t even nervous about Blake until the first morning when his sugar dropped to 40’s and he slept right through his alarm.
I’m pretty sure it was that first year he lost his insulin and didn’t say anything until his blood sugar was sky high and only reading high on his dexacom monitor. I knew it would take some time to get insulin called in locally and to get it picked up. Luckily, I had another type 1 who had insulin in my fridge Blake had syringes with him so he dosed himself with 20 units of regular. His mom got a hold of diabetic coordinator from Cardinal Glennon and I spent the next couple of hours on and off the phone with them. When I told them how much insulin Blake had dosed with, they said it was way too much and he would crash. However, that never happened and he only hit about 200. That just led me to believe his sugar was pretty high and I think his breakfast carb load was 65. About this time his leader found his insulin and we changed his pump site. I would find out later he texted his mom saying he thought he was going to die. The rule is, no one dies at camp, too much paperwork.
The next year I connected my phone to his blood sugar monitor. Now that was an eye opening scary experience for me. He would be alarming high 400 and then low 42. It was up and down the entire week. I had one friend I would share the numbers with to keep me from panicking. It was this year that Blake was given his nickname.
In the Mole family if we like you, you get a nickname. My girls friends all know theirs. We must love our dogs because they all have had many names. Now I’m horrible at remembering names, in part because of hippa. If I don’t know the patients name, I can’t get fired for talking about them. Because of Blake’s blood sugars all over the place I came up with blood sugar Blake. Of course I never told him this, I cannot remember if I ever told his mom.
Blake graduated from high school this year so it was his very last BigStuf. No better time than to reveal his nickname to him. He is going to be a paramedic/firefighter so I told him the same think I told a kid name Jack ten years ago. It doesn’t matter if you do CPR wrong, the person is dead and you can’t make them more dead. If you bring them back it’s a bonus. Blake told his friends my nickname and they all started calling him it. So I guess I didn’t offend him too much. This week he decided to try Lantus so he wouldn’t have to wear his pump. I never saw him for blood sugar issues so I’m assuming it was a nice break.
Somehow I managed to not take any pictures the other years. I can blame 2019 on my sabbatical before I changed jobs. 2021 my father had just died and I have zero memories of camp. Last year I was so sick with respiratory stuff (not covid, two negative tests) I didn’t even notice the band had changed. This year I was finally back to my old self and had an absolute blast!
Mole Moral~ Invest your time in others, the payoff is incredibly high and rewarding.
Later in the month it will be two years since my fathers passing. I have been doing well for quiet a while now until yesterday. It was my birthday and my mom wrote something really nice on my Facebook wall that included my father. I cried off and on at work the rest of the day. So when I got to my car I listened to the voicemail he left on my birthday in 2019. Not sure why I didn’t answer the phone that year as I was on my sabbatical from work. But it cracked me up, just like it did when he first left it.
We talked about this a lot at Grief Share. How sometimes it just hits when you least expect it. So I embraced it and just cried. Brian gave me orange roses which are gorgeous. Then a bottle of his favorite wine. Like seriously ruin a great gift but I think it’s because he was afraid I’d hate the roses or something. He’s one of the most bizarre gift givers I have ever met.
Allyson gave me my gift today. And bam grief back again. She took ceramics this year in college and made me this.
It’s Isla with her weird non eye and all. It looks so much like her. She went with me to put Isla down last October. I never mentioned it on social media because it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. She was extremely aggressive and most likely had rage syndrome. She had bit both Allyson and Kayla for no reason. As well as attacked Moonie many many times. I have said all my life I would not have a dog that bit people. It’s just too dangerous. So we sent Isla to heaven with a message for my dad if she can talk. The vet tech about flipped out but Dr. Smith told her it was the truth.
So I’m sad all over again today. But I tell myself dogs will be in heaven even though Pastor Kevin told me many moons ago Jesus didn’t die to save dogs. Obviously he’s a dog hater.
Mole Moral ~ I learned a long time ago, you don’t get over death, you just learn to live with it.
LifeWithMoles 