Home             About             Sponsor             Contact Me            

October 1, 2012

What's really real!


I used to be the author of another blog but I cancelled it. I deleted everything- a year worth of “happy” writing, beautiful poems, pictures, and fairytales. It was called Beating Hart— A nod to my middle name (Hart) and the fact that my heart was beating…every day. I still love the name of it because my heart/hart still beats. Now, it just beats to the tune of a different drum. That blog wasn’t reality. I would follow other tumblr bloggers but only the ones that posted inspirational quotes, beautiful and whimsical pictures and happy things. I would only write about the beautiful part of my life and hide from the hiccups. After a year, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I wasn’t getting anything out of it. I took a break from writing for 6 months and I began to soak up life. Truth is, if you are going to have a blog that is ALL beautiful and no TRUTH, you are lying to yourself and the people that tune in to read your thoughts. Life can be raw.


I started a new blog. I find writing theraputic. I started it after I got married - 4 months ago tomorrow. I started it because I want to look back at the life my husband and I share together. I want to look at the beautiful things but also the struggles. I want to look back and say, “Wow. Remember how much that day/week sucked? But look at us now, look how far we’ve come. Look at what life and God has taught us. Look at how hard we worked together to breathe in the most cozy breaths possible.”


This past week sucked. Truthfully. It sucked. I got blasted with a Migraine…ended up in the er hooked to cords, getting poked by needles, and being infused with the weirdest coctail of medicines ever. Has anyone ever had Benadryl through an IV? Ummmmm hello Loopy Land. Pretty sure I was so out of it that I couldn’t even say Tyler’s name. And he will tell you himself…I love saying is name. I say it 20 times a day. Sometimes, when he is in the living room and I am in another room I will just say, “Tyler…Tyler…whatcha doin?” Saying his name and having him respond to me is the best feeling in the world. He always answers me. In that er, I couldn’t even say his name. So I would just open my left eye to make sure he was sitting there. I hated that I couldn’t say his name. Migraine schmigraine. Oh well. It could have been worse. I ended up kicking it’s butt in the end.


As I began to get more energy from that set back, Thursday morning arrived. I was getting ready to leave for work and got a phone call at about 9:00am. I looked down at my phone and it said, Tina. I thought to myself, “Why is my sister-in-law calling so early? It is 7:00am in Arizona.” My stomach sank. She explained to me that my mother had fallen. Mind you, she had just arrived in Arizona the evening before to visit my brother, sister-in-law, and her grandchildren. She asked for the trip from my dad for her birthday. Turns out, my mom had fallen and broken her wrist in 4 places. Happy freaking birthday mom. Off to the er they went. I remember hanging up the phone and just sobbing. I am very protective of my mother. I don’t know why. I think it is a bond that we developed for several reasons.



When I was a child, she nursed me through two serious illnesses. Juvenile arthritis at age 8, and then some weird vascular disease (that I will never fully understand) at age 15. That one was the worst. 9 months of strong Chemotherapy. 9 months of Prednisone (heavy steroids). One life threatening emergency surgery as a result of a bad reaction to steroids. I spent that entire school year in a hospital. Yeah, I know people. Some of you know none of this as I have chosen to never talk about it and keep it in my past and leave it there. But the older I have gotten, I have realized that staying quiet and never sharing bad things won’t change the world. It will only isolate us and we will become ignorant and sheilded to LIFE. Did I question God during those 9 months? Yeah, sure did. I was so mad at Him. I turned my back. It wasn’t until about 6 months after my prognoses of remission at Johns Hopkins Hospital that I began to thank God. But I thanked him for things you wouldn’t initially think I would thank Him for…I didn’t thank Him for making me better right away. I thanked him for “allowing” me to experience that illness and life’s bad offerings. Because, you know, I would be a completely different person today had I not gone through those things. I wouldn’t be caring. I wouldn’t see beauty that comes out of something bad. I wouldn’t be a hard worker. I wouldn’t have manners. I wouldn’t have compassion. I wouldn’t have spunk. I wouldn’t have a sense of humor. I most certainly wouldn’t have Mr. Handsome Pants (Tyler).



So as I sat there Thursday morning and cried for my mom, you will possibly understand why I just wanted to be there with her….to take care of her…to comfort her…to get her ice chips…to put a cold rag on her forehead…to give her medicine. Because she always did that for me. There was nothing I could do to take away her pain. I just wanted to be there with her. I spent the entire weekend just crying. Yeah…I CRIED LIKE A BABY. And you know what, it felt great. You are not a human if you don’t require a good cry once in a while. I think it is the body’s natural way of cleaning your eye balls of polution- literally and figuratively. We as humans see horrible things every day.


Never deny yourself of beautiful moments in life but also never deny yourself of the reality either. Take bad things and change the world. Better yourself. Learn something. Quit being naive. Raise money for a Foundation. Volunteer on the pediatric cancer floor of a local hospital. (www.rockstarronan.com) Don’t be mediocre.


To my mom, if you read this. Don’t listen to them when they tell you 12 months of recovery. Beat it in 6.


 My poor mama.


As for me, you’ve learned a few more things about myself. One of them being that I love a good cry. So sorry if that sounds depressing. (I also like character shaped Kraft mac n’ cheese if that makes you feel better).


I hope you’ve also learned that I am vulnerable. I am honest. And If you aren’t honest about the rawness of life, it will slap you in the face.