Thursday, January 17, 2019

Good Reminders.

Full Moon sneakin' up on us this weekend my friends.  And with that, a reminder worth mentioning--

Watch your words. Choose your actions.

Tempers unfold faster than we want.

Breathe out when attempted to burst.

Navigate away from situations you don't feel comfortable with. It's perfectly okay to stay in, and away.  

Steer clear of weirdos and evil meanies.

Drink lightly, remember alcohol is a depressant.  -------> My name is Lisa and this is an arm wrestle for me. 

Stay hydrated.

And try to catch the full moon, should weather permit.  She's always oh ohh so beautiful!




Tuck yourself in and just soak up this wild weather.

Find a good book. Or a corner of the house that suits you.

And a good cozy blanket.

Little holla-out to this little birdie for navigating through a move into their new apartment.  For not losing her shit while putting together IKEA furniture.  Grant takes the most credit for this, in my humble mama opinion, but if you say that outloud in front of Kali, lol, she blurps something back along the lines of..."mom, I helped too!" and so I just toss out credit like it's confetti.  (Grant, you are amazing...and those cute pillows you picked out at Ikea..boom)

Ikea. =  Good cheap furniture, but requires LOTS of patience, and impeccable instruction followers. 

* the reason I buy most of our furniture from Craigslist, always in great shape, and always from a good home, and assembled! HAHAHA!  Kali don't play like that.  lolzz



Cute part about their story, both grew up in close proximity, yet met out at college. 



And now she's paying back student loans, learning how precious Sunday's are.  She's learning to prep food for the week.  Also, just how amazing crock pots are.  She's learning a thing or two about groceries, and all the prep that goes into good quality food. Trader Joe's sucks on Sunday in LB, because everyone and their pet is in there.  She's learning the realness of carrying a job, even though some colleagues are just weird.  She's made paper airplanes some days, and navigated new Macro's the next.  She's schooled Grant on how they must make their bed every single morning, because oh-my-sweet-lord.org-  Sheets are sacred.  LOL.

She sits in solid traffic some days, and has learned to take PCH for an ocean view others.



You both make me so proud!  

Happy Thursday my friends...what a wet, wild, rain-soaked-I-love-falling-asleep-to-rain, week!


Drive safe, it's almost gone!

Can't wait for the green grasses, and beautiful tree's and flowers to bloom!

Full moon viewing this Saturday and Sunday-
You are welcome. 

This Mama Lisa

Friday, January 11, 2019

One Thousand, Ninety Five. Days. January Thirteen - Sunday.

Happy 3rd Birthday Kris!  Happy Birthday to my German filled dude.  The gift from "Pirana" -
This letter from his donor is super light, but if you can catch the words...they're rock solid. 


   
 Letter sent from Pirana (From Germany, this time last year....our first introduction at 2 years)


   

A gift you were handed from an ice chest.  After a transatlantic flight, in the folded arms of a courier, to the amazing City Of Hope. Up to the 5th floor. To that first room on the right.  The room that had a collage of WHO YOU WERE outside the window, displayed for the world to see.  


To see the life our son was having before the monster chased your tail, and tackled you down.

Bill surprised me with a picnic on the beach to celebrate the news of our donor.  


These last 3 years are some of the most wildest, sweatiest, scariest, happiest, funniest (the amount of times I've seen you shit your pants, in showers, and in beds will go down in your memoir one day)
The sizes of pants you've changed, along with the style because some pants just hurt your stomach. 

The amount of meds you take on the daily, sometimes dropping a few here and there, and yet the whole house just passes by them like it's lint.  Dogs included. 
The heaters that cover rooms, especially the bathroom because your body temp acts a little wonky some days. 




The amount of marijuana you consume just to feel good, and most especially eat, will forever baffle me.  Yet, I remain a big supporter of natural healing, versus more meds.

The reminders a mom sets for a forgetful son because of memory loss.  Some from chemo, some from radiation, and mostly the most from...marijuana.  
I just jot notes down around the house like when he was 15.  

The love you have FROM and TO your dogs made this transplant chapter extra special.  Especially Skipper.  The love he gives to you on your toughest day can't be replaced by any human. 





The doctor visits that have rattled both of our cages, and the drive home is exhausting in traffic,
 yet, we feel this sense of relief from answers that we may have needed, or just venting on things that didn't or don't seem right.  
The exhale the closer we arrive to home, just finding beauty in the little taco stand we love so much. Simply because that Hollywood jungle is farther out of our sight. 




For the last 3 years we've sat extra close and hovered over Kris a little longer.  




A journey of sorts, I wouldn't wish on any human, and yet I still offer love and help for ANYONE stepping into the journey.  There's part of the discomfort in helping others that are walking into the "fire" per say, but yet there's a therapeutic part of it too.  

There's no guarantee in this journey, that's for sure. 



Having a loving, understanding family and a good tribe of friends that stand up next to you, or at times, lay next to you with encouraging words.  It's what gets you through.


3 years. 



I still walk into the pharmacy at least once a week, and by God, if I stumble across this one gal, whom we shared words (me so, more than her) we avoid one another. 
Her attitude proved to me that people that work around sick people, or sick peoples families, or most delicate...(the MOM-lol) you sortakinda, need to be compassionate.  
And after time and time again, you're just a bitch, well some moms let loose.  And when some moms named lisa let loose, all hell breaks out.  

But we've moved beyond that. 

3 years. 

They know my name there in that pharmacy.  They know I didn't sign up for this Annual Pass, or Subscription to navigate meds like a pharmacist, and double check their work each time.  In fact, I've always just been a mom that was so happy to have raised her kids, and really just wanted to enjoy watching them flourish and grow.  To get married and have kids.  To run off into the sunset with grandkids and not plan futures like the one we have now.  

3 years. 

This is our year to dig further into our relationship with Pirana, our sweet German donor.  
To hug him one day.  To see him and Kris stand side by side.  One super dark, one pale and thin. 
But BROTHERHOOD. 

One way or another, this journey moves on.  I pray that I can type these milestones for many, many more years to come.  

I hope you count your blessings each day you wake up.  Look at your kids, or call them and hear their voices.   



Some people never get the chance, and some people aren't strong enough to do so. 


Happy Third Birthday Kris!  Your life is a gift.  Your life is precious.  Your life is yours, so just be you.  And while you do see this mama struggle with worry, it's just because the flow of blood in a moms heart is always for them.  For the rest of our lives.



Merkemer!




And one big group hug to all you cancer fighters out there. May you feel less pressure some days, and more fighting skills others.  May the focus stay clear, and the vanity of hair loss, weight loss, memory loss, and all the other shitballs that fall in your way, be at ease.  The human spirit is tough.  And you WILL and CAN get through it. 

Caregivers out there... you too!  One foot in front of the other.  

Don't take shit in pharmacies, and most definitely check their work, because trust ME, they make mistakes too.  

Not sure about something? ASK AGAIN.

And AGAIN if things still aren't clear. 


Mucho love kids.

Be good this weekend....play hard, and find your best blankie....could be a wet one!


Mama Warrior Lisa


Wednesday, January 9, 2019

Happy Birthday Bill.

Few things you may or may not know about this fine feller.




A roast, if you will.  

He's a man of his word.  

He'll fix anything if it's fixable.  

He gives good long hugs. Especially to girls with boobs.  

He's first in line at McDonald's when McRib makes it's disgusting way back onto the menu.  He's totally obsessed. 

He's wired like an engineer and methodically thinks EVERYTHING through.



His garage is a trophy winner in my eyes. 

He gives me long sincere hugs every single morning that it permits. Genuine, heartfelt hugs.
I am a believer that the longer a couple stays together, the pulse that beats between eachother in hugs are almost a battery lift for the heart. Can't tell you how many times I've hugged him in the dark early morning, standing in the kitchen, feeling as though "we can do this", and mean it. 

I know some folks can gaze lovingly into the others eyes in pure lust, but let's just say, this homie don't play like that.  I have a silly side, and any long stares usually generate laughter.

We can catch eyes across a room and know exactly what the other is thinking.  

Bill works harder than any man I've ever known. 

He has set an ethic in both of our kids to get up and at least try. 

He doesn't snore.

He blames toots on imaginary frogs in the house. 

He tries to add water to our hand soap.  

He is stern with dogs.  He will NOT feed any animal from the table.  EVER. 

He balances exhaustion, with dreams, resulting in driven goals.  Both of which he will not give up on.



I can remember celebrating his 40th birthday, and as we took pictures with the band, I thought, wow 40.  Now those numbers are just numbers.

Each year as we celebrate, the gifts become more and more mundane.  More practical versus luxury or impulse. For instance, this Christmas I bought him a new chair butt pad.  Hollaaa!

If you ask us, just to be alive, healthy and surrounded by friends that genuinely love us to the core is what a gift is.  Dining with our six-pack, sipping good wine, and knowing with each clink of the glass that we're all forever grateful to celebrate the milestones in 50's.  
Together. 



You'll always be the dopest boat driver, drink maker, love makin', steak burner, best pancake maker of all time. 

I hope I am lucky enough to love you for the rest of your days.  I hope I can get those long warm hugs, even though I don't have big boobies.  I have a strong beating heart, filled with so much love for just you. 

The long winding road we've traveled has been pretty wild.  I am lucky enough to say it's with you. My best friend.

My heart rock.

My everything.

I can't say I'll love you to the moon and back, because, well, I'm petrified of heights and just the thought of being shot out into space, just scares the shit out of me. 

But I will love you from one end of the lake, to the other.  Or harbour.  In this bad ass playa. 


 We'll crush our dreams together handsome dude. 

We're creatures of habit, but we both soak up moments of rest, and small get-aways.

I'll still wake up with my wild hair, freckled donned face.  Sun spots we've earned together.  I'll still hug you with my pale arms in the winter, and sun tanned skin in the summer.  
I'll still ask you to make me "just one more" and you'll happily do so, like you do.

I'll ask you if you wanna try a new face mask with me, and like always, you just roll with it.  Cuz yo cray cray like that.  




And you'll proclaim as I walk down the hallway with half-way blow dried hair..."the most beauutttifffullll girlllll in the worlllldddd" with funny sarcasm and we'll laugh so hard together.

You'll give me a hard time because I don't work out like a champ as you'd love, but can whip up a meal to knock your socks and underwear off.  But, hey, we've all got new goals, right?

My goal is to make you feel my love.  Forever. 

Forever, and ever.

Happy Birthday Bill.  Fifty "something"-  You sexy beast and freak in the sheets. HAHAHA
Juuust kidding Kris and Kali!  Kinda. 


And amazing father.  

So glad we found you.  And you found us.  We are so lucky to feel your love. 


I love you!!


"Mama" as you call me.  



My goodness, do I love you. 

Friday, January 4, 2019

Grateful

2019.

I read a sign the other day that read..."We are 11 years away from 2030"-

Let that sink in.

Anyway, just checkin' in.  Workin', shufflin', prayin', and sortin'.....

New Year. New Hopes. New Chances. Old feelings.  New feelings.

Same me. 

Same beautiful friends.

Same beautiful partner.

Same amazing, strong and loving kids.

Same job.

Same prayers.

Same HOPE.

For What Was.

For What Is.

For What Will  Be. 


I've never held resolutions for the New Year. (waittt, take that back..one year I tried to stop cussing, and another year I tried to give up meat- failed em both-love the F word, and love taquitos too much)


I had hopes to write in the sand as I always do on New Years Eve, but it was windier than I can ever remember it being-

A simple reminder to me.  Stay in. Cook.  Read. Soak up the stillness.

And just love.


Today, everytime I write the date 1/4/19 on forms, I kept thinkin' "why is this number so sticky to my mind"--

We admitted into City Of Hope 3 years ago.  The feelings I wore in my mama soul are something I can never explain, and I hope that you never have to feel those.  I lived and breathed adrenaline air. 

I am Grateful.

For What Was.

For What Is.

For What Will Be. 


To my friends that struggled through the holidays, cheers to you little fellers,  you hopefully pulled through the storm, got up, showered and kicked ass, even though you didn't want to. 

To family that reached out with sincere text messages filled with just love and kindness. Thank you.

To my sister whom guided me to my Grandma's on Christmas Eve.
A place that never changes.  The scent of that beautiful woman. Sprinkled with dementia, yet just so so loving.  Her Christmas tree story told over and over, and all I could do is just stare at her beautiful skin.  Her face, her hair always stunning.  This "family room" is everything to me.  
The best part, I can feel her love for me.  She knows who we are.
My sister making sugar cookies so we could decorate while in her presence.

Goodness gracious kids.  

  


She didn't want her picture taken.  This stereo console pictured offered lots of dancing at my Auntie Nettie's wedding back in the mid 70's.  My dad twisting and of course shouting (the loudest one at a party back-in-the-ol'-days) Every picture given to her of our babies still there.  The other wall holding a memorial section of the daughter she lost so tragically in an accident.  As I sat there talking to her, looking up behind her with thoughts of her grief.  Every mothers nightmare. 

Thank you Tina for encouraging our visit. 
Something I am selfishly guilty of. 

Visits.


This picture means more in our little tribe than most people would understand..


Not seeing eye to eye some days, to release all grudges to gather for family, with family on Christmas Day.  Because, well....love.  And life.

For this popcorn below that served me a reminder to just let things be....
Someone gifted Kris this popcorn tin, and my germaphobe mama warrior mode thought I would be doing him a service to "GET THIS OUT OF THE HOUSE, OHMYGAWDYOUCANTKEEPPUTTINGYOURFINGERSINTHEREAFTEREVERYONE!

Tossed that tin in my car, and drove off. 

Next stop....

A popcorn filled trunk!



It's all good, this is my farewell bid to 2018. 

A year of goodness, sadness, amazing moments, and some that totally made me sit back in my seat and gasp with sheer shock.  Some moments of hugging my partner tighter because things just get tough.  And the other moments of logging in to lab day and exhaling as I look up to thank God. 



Grateful.

For What Was.

For What Is.

For What Will Be. 








There is always hope.  


Grateful.


Have a good weekend kids.  Play fair, and get home before the street lights come on!
Or if you hear your dad whistle REAL loud! HAHA!


Love,

This Mama Lisa



Friday, December 21, 2018

Beautiful Tides.


I wish you all a peaceful, and soulful holiday season. Can you believe we've reached the end of the year?  Things will look and feel different this year, as our seasons have changed. Kids are grown. The hustle of running to and from for our little's has come to a halt.  We'll find our own new way. They'll come and go, and we'll devour the moments we can. Always grateful my son is alive. Grateful for an amazing daughter whom navigates through life like a champ.  Her willingness and tenacity always top notch. 

 We'll let the tide push us where we need to be. The season in fact has harvested some interesting feelings for us all.  Looking back through pictures as I always tend to do is a firm reminder of how delicate and really neat life is, even when at times we are walking through fog.  

The days of watching the little birdies gather around a Christmas tree we labored to make pretty.  Or the tradition of mama's biscuits and gravy Christmas morning.  I can remember many Christmas mornings cleaning things up holding resentment for all a mother goes through to make the magic happen.  To watch it wither down to paper torn, and tossed into a trash bag.  Answering to Bill as to "what's wrong" and I had no answers, just shoulders shrugged.  When deep inside I was a bit sad at how it all unfolded.  Quick and Commercialized.

Changes. 

Seasons. 

The exhale and euphoria we all feel while collapsing on the couch after a good meal that night.  For me, it was a "whew, made it through another holiday".   My often sulky role I grew into.  
My wish, as it is every year, is that I will eventually grow out of my lack of lust for this season.
I want to look back someday and drink in what I preach. I want to be prepared enough.  And when I say be prepared, it's not bearing gifts. In fact, the complete opposite. I'd love to share moments, and food over gifts. It's to be prepared to offer love to those without anyone.  I want to enjoy music or good food with friends that experience the same "fog" I experience during these months.  

I write my parents a letter each year.  In that letter it always covers my gratitude for what they did provide and how magical (again, not gift bearing)- But with traditions I will forever keep tucked into my soul.  The drives to look at Christmas lights.  The wrapping paper that changed...because.."Santa" came to visit.  The Mickey Mouse watch I opened on Christmas Eve, listening to it tick-tock all night long, with hopes to hear Santa land on our house. 

Gratitude. Parenting. Motherhood.  

It's all so temporary.  Nothing lasts forever. 

Maybe a gentle reminder to me, that nothing is permanent in this life. 

Emotions.

Foggy holiday seasons.

Life.

And the willingness to participate. 

Sometimes it's creating a new holiday season fit for you.  

Sometimes it's stepping away from the platform we all thought was forever.








Step back.  Take a look. Keep it simple.

And just love.


So if what feels permanent today and never-ending, know there is an end that a change will come.  Our troubles today will be traded for different troubles tomorrow.  Same with our joys.  And so find some sort of peace in knowing that none of it... not the good or the bad - will last forever. 

As my cousin Mindi expressed on her Christmas cards.  "The days are long, but the years are short."



Merry Christmas to you.

Love on those that mean the most. 

And keep makin' biscuits and gravy!





Mama Lisa




Thursday, December 20, 2018

Jolly Ol' St. Whatever.

Friday Eve, and I am, and have felt the lovely effects of this full moon allllll week long.


Tucked away in solitude most nights.  

I hope you're all finished with the hustle and bustle of this season.

Slowing down to soak up the glory of a cozy warm blanket, or hot bath. 

I hope you're enjoying a good meal (for me it's been amazing oatmeal with sour dough toast- YUM!lol)

The little happiness that happens when I get home from work to plug the tree in.

The victory I feel each day speaking to each of my birdies.  They're alive. And able.

I wish you all peace.  Take some good long breaths during this full moon phase.

Should be gone by Sunday....




All my FULL MOON love,

Lisa Lynn