The Difference In A Year

Not just a year, but months.  

Months and months of riding on this rollercoaster with our belts so tight at times we'd all feel as though suffocation was due next.  At least for this mom.  There are days I feel like I have the world in my hands to help carry burdens.  At least the most important burdens.  Then there are days that feel like I can curl in a ball and hide in my room. In bed. 

I reached out to my London friend yesterday "Hi Sumaira"-  Just checking in....and her response is exactly how I feel some days. It does get easier, but just sits on your shoulder every so often. She's overwhelmed. Her boy diagnosed Sept 2015-Transplant weeks after Kris.

And so, life is moving on.  My response simple. Because I know.

I truly know how she feels.  

Unsafe. Unsure. Scared, yet hopeful. 

I feel you Sumaira....I do sister. Hang in there.  Easier said than done.  Just one foot in front of the other.

You can do it mama.

Interesting today sitting down at my computer at work with a scrambled screen.  Something my clever I.T guy says in my ear that brings reality in this chapter to realness. 

Lisa, you might need to save all your pictures onto the F Drive. 

Your storage is too full.

Which translates to me as, purge baby purge. Slide those memories into some other folders, for another day.  Or year.  Or...never.

Not forever trash.  But maybe let's just move it to a safe hidden side.

Who needs to relive the bald pictures.  The sick hard days.

That IV that haunted me.
Gosh just the other day while picking up his meds I cruised by the area we'd wait for spinal chemo, to later try to get him to my car carefully like a weak wounded baby bird. Mama adrenaline in full force.
How the fuck did he get through that you guys?

That port line in his arm that became so simple, yet twisted for all of us.

The many pictures of this journey.

Maybe it's time to retire them.
Just like the many notes of love and encouragement I finally took off my fridge.
Into a box.
Out of sight.
The need to build my own strength.
Faith.
Grace.
Without reminders.

Move em out.

On the F drive.
In the boxes.

We spent the weekend away celebrating Kris' 27th year here on beautiful Mother Earth. 

On this day last year I stood next to his bed as his doctor delivered the news to us, confirming what we feared the most.  

It's all surreal still. 

This past weekend we stepped away as a family. 

Catching up on things in life versus just the constant discussion of medical, appointments, counts, medicines...the nag of a mom. I have to say, watching Jen and Kris cover him with sunblock, sunblock long shirts, and hats was so impressive. At one point, we all kind of chuckled at how slathered and iridescent  he was.  Staying under the umbrella in the pool, or bimini in the boat.  So proud of his awareness.
I'm telling you, he's fully cautious, which makes me incredibly proud.

We laughed SO hard our first night sitting in Mario's restaurant dining on Italian food (which isn't a favorite of Kris' but he agreed because well, 5 against 1).  A monsoon came in like a freight train. Dropping rain drops big enough to splatter outside creating the aroma only a desert rat can appreciate.  We sure did. 

The power flickered out once while we ate in a room filled with other folks.  To a banter of...."ohhhhhhhhhhawwwwww" And the lights would come back on. 

Soon they flickered out and stayed out.  Causing a room to chuckle, cheer and carry on like something you'd only dream of.  Stuff like that is just rad.  Before you know it, they'd bring his cake out to sing.  I watched his face light up, as that candle lit our table with just the perfect lighting. 

Picture courtesy of his dad. Kris, I'm sure you're not stoked on it, but we love it.  Happy dude, happy parents!

To laugh across the table with us in a dark restaurant as we sang happy birthday.  

The candle never looked more beautiful.  He blew it out.  And we lit it again.

  

All of it meant to be. 

No tears for me. Just wine.

And smiles. And laughs.  Lots and lots of laughs.

I took yesterday off to organize more paperwork, appointments, schedules for Kris and Kali.  Medical (his co-pay charges for an almost million dollar transplant have begun to roll-in....enlightening kids...City Of Hope helped save my son...and dealing with the financial side isn't fun, but kind hearted those gals were yesterday...) I also sorted through Kali's tuition garb and parking passes-shout out to 700bonestoparkacarwtf.  

The one thing that stands out is just how much fuller my heart felt. 

From last year.  This day. 

August 23, 2015 Biopsy of nodes. 

 

October 2015

To now.....August 2016-

God is GOOD you guys.....

I can tell you this warrior path hasn't been easy.  And I'm sure it has more warrior days ahead. 

If you are a reader of mine in bone marrow transplant mode. Know this. You are not alone.  You will get through it. And take one day at a time. This picture above full of hard earned smiles haven't always been smiles. Plenty of blank stares, and lots and lots of tears.  So pray hard and ask for mercy.  There will be good days and there will be bad days.  As a matter of fact there will be days where you'll feel as though it can't get worse.  And it will. And then it will turn back in your favor.  If you are advocating for a family member stay focused.  Stay on top of meds. Doctors, and nurses.  They're human just like you.  Errors are made. Sometimes small, and sometimes not.  You know your patient.  Speak up.  With a kind tongue, do it.  Sharpen that tongue blade as needed.  Keep wiping that room down like a ninja. Listen to your patient, and wipe their tears.  Bring warm towels on the extra bad days, and cool towels when needed.  You will watch a body go through phases of pure miracle-mode.  And that's okay.  You will need to rub backs and feet on extra sad days.  And sometimes just sit quiet.  You will fret over counts now, and even later.  hellolisa...

This year has been nothing I expected. And yet everything I expected. 

I am so lucky my son is here.
One year later.
One year later.....

Stay strong, and keep doing what you love....

Because as Kris says....---- "Those who won't, don't"

Happy Tuesday lovers.

This Mama Lisa

 And big fat PS.  To the sober navigators of the not so,  eh em, Kris....All praise hands to you.

Man, he was a trooper with all of us.  That's for sure...Barrrraaaaacuuuuuddaaa!
And if you're from the Havasu area, or are frequent Havasunians, stop by the new "Culvers" for an iced custard. Straight outta East Coast vibe.  AND tell me if it reminds you of a hamster cage. The smell you guys...the smell. woah.
Jen and I were buckled over, wiping tears and doing the pee-pee dance.
YES.  Yes to hard laughs.
And family that can seriously place an order for you at the counters.
Yes. 

 pss. labs and doc appointment this week.  Praying all good signs!  And good counts! And a doctor that always opens her heart and ears to me.  For that I will be forever grateful.  Because there's something about motherwarriorhood.

-To The World You Are A Mother, But To Your Family You Are The World-

Fly Seagull Fly. Let's Celebrate Life. Happy Birthday Merkemer....

Twenty seven years ago I was sitting in the hospital room trying to share my arms with visitors that sat bedside next to me and my brand new precious boy.  A tiny boy that really scared me.  Scared in a sense of not doing the right thing to make him thrive.  And live.  I remember the odd feeling of putting him against my breast to nurse and thinking "oh my gosh, what in the heck am I doing"-  How is he gonna survive on this fidgety mom, slash young teen, slash teeny boobies. Like, was there enough milk, something doesn't feel right... How was I gonna navigate us out of there and to our home where a crib waited.  That same crib that I had organized and reorganized many many times during the days after his due date. 

 

First dive since transplant August 2016-

I remember driving home in the back seat with him in my mother in laws Toyota Supra.  And while staring at him crunched up like a little potato bug in that car seat, all I could worry about was someone hitting our car.  

Arriving at home, I remember setting him on that little hand-me-down love seat in that little grey and white hand-me-down car seat watching his chest rise and fall so quickly.  I didn't want to remove him from it. 

I was petrified of doing this mama thing on our own. 

In fact, I called the nurses shortly later asking why he was breathing so fast.  And why his little chest area had a huge dip in it.  Like something was missing.  

His first wails in distraught would soon come with those blow out diaper changes. Navigating around that circumcision plastic ring, and that belly button black glob. 

All I wanted was a peaceful baby.  On my chest.  Or nuzzled up into my neck.  I can remember trying to rock him at 2,3,4 am in a rocking chair my aunt Ronda and uncle Wade bought me.  It's oak.  It still sits next to my desk at work.  It proves the determination in motherhood and how you "just make things work" versus these new gliders I see adorning new mothers.  I simply put couch cushions under mine to tilt it back.  So we could both get some sleep.

I remember trying to wind up his swing with the smooth touch so the smallest click wouldn't jar him awake.

He'd sleep there some rough nights.  But hey, he survived.  Right?  

Way past when the final swing little arm made its way around.  And he stopped.

I'd protect him like a mother lion for the next 27 years.  I'd shelter him too much at times, learning as he got older, the down sides to that.

He'd never be made to mow a lawn.  Or wash windows.  Or scrub a oven out.  

He'd only learn through a step father how to make sure maintenance on cars are beyond important. 

He'd learn that managing a savings account is vital.  For your future.  

He'd learn to be a tight ass so that a savings account is possible.  

He'd learn to be kind to people and animals.  By the good ol' quote "children learn what they live"...

He'd become very independent throughout his later high school years because his mom worked. 

So independent that he'd tell me later that my sneak attack on them at the bike track to "smell his hands" to make sure he wasn't smoking cigarettes were covered with gloves while they smoked.  

He never wanted to play sports.  As a matter of fact, the first time I signed him up for soccer, AND took the role as team mom (shocker), he'd rub his legs out there on that field. Always proclaiming they hurt.  He'd be more interested in the butterflies grazing the little white flowers.  

Who wants to chase soccer balls when you can chase butterflies. 

We'd stay so close throughout all these years.  Becoming each others bookends at times.  Watching him navigate friendships, relationships, teachers, peers, co-workers. 

Soon, he'd navigate through the hardest days of his life.  

He'd navigate learning the news no person ever wants to hear. 

He'd smile at me through tears, while searching for the confidence in my eyes that I would help fix it.  

However I could. He'd have to share with his mom, as she questioned things us parents never want to talk about...like- "If these things happen, what do you want...."

And the consent from him to be his advocate during care. 

To make serious decisions should they arise. 

She'd have to ask you questions about life and death.

Pushing you along in the dark days.

Scolding you when she felt the need. 

Because, well, motherhood. 

He'd hug his girlfriend tight, and share their intimate thoughts of "the next phase".

He'd remain sick, yet strong.  He'd smile through pain, and sometimes speak his mind making the room full of whomever feel uneasy. 

He'd speak the truth in more ways than we'd want to hear.  

Same for his nurses, and doctors.  They'd get an ear full, and a face full of whatever was on his mind.

Rightfully so, he'd have some very valid "opinions".  We all do.

That's for fucking sure. 

He'd get through the phases of this years journey. 

At twenty seven.  He'd learn a thing or two about life.  About the reality of the things that happen to people.

To good people. 

To all people. 

We'd all pull together tight. 

We'd share thoughts, and schedules. 

He'd learn his girlfriend was a rock of a gem.  One that shone bright, during his darkest days. 

He'd learn his mom would continue to push for answers with doctors, pharmacies, nurses...

We are so blessed to have him here with us. 

I woke in the middle of the night last night and all I could think of was the grace filled mercy handed to me. To him.  To us. 

Chances.

I got to wake up and call my son and wish him a happy birthday.  I got to share breakfast with him across the table.  I can wrap my arms around his growing waist.  I can laugh with him, and share my witty silly humor.  We can exchange text messages with sheer laughter. 

I am lucky. 

To say Happy Birthday to my handsome birdie.  

I hope you can fly, seagull, fly.  For many many more years. 

You truly are the light in my life.  

This song always reminds me of him...

Seagull....

Happy Weekend kids.....

We're looking for sunshine, boating, shade, water, hugs, smiles and strong cocktails. 

Well, speaking for myself.  LOL

Hope your weekend is filled with love.  And life.  Most always thankful for that. 

This Mama Lisa

Good Company

After a weekend filled with hugs, clinking glasses of wine in good cheer, and just celebrating "LIFE"  in general...we thought it'd be a wise idea to take a little Sunday harbour cruise.  That cruise would consist of stopping here first- (Mind you, we were licking our wounds from The Jacob's garage party Saturday that was OFF THE HOOK as always-them folks know how to throw a partaayyy)

And what started out as iced lemon water, and a brew as we cruised.  Both quietly soaking up the sights...and the hum of that little motor.  Striking conversations about dream boats, and a couple dream houses we've always had an eye on as we cruise by we make up little stories on living there.  Funny thing about us, we like the teeny teeny tiny houses.  My only request would be to build a casita on top with views up and over to the ocean.  I'd build a little garden sanctuary up there...with vines growing all around....hey a dreamer can dream right? 

Soon enough we'd catch a glimpse of a couple members of our six pack crew....out in the distance. 

Before you know it....we'd all land here.

This is where all Sunday responsibility of adulthood slash work week mental negotiations go out the window. 

Or in our case, out the back of that little trolling motor.  

You see, we knew at the hour of 3pm, that soon it would be 6,7 and 8pm and we really should of been folding the towels I put in the dryer, and unloading that dishwasher.  Or even meal planning....

No, instead we were crazy and hopped up on that dock.

Bad decision number 2 would soon appear out of no where.  

And what made matters worse, was the view was too good on our eyes.  The whole double edge sword story.

My home girl Carmen kept ordering more wine, and even though we thought we were slick sisters, and decided to "share" about 4 glasses, which just sounds silly typing this. 

Because....who needs to worry about extra glasses of wine.  Especially with work the next day.

I'm telling you, the irrational and rationalizing we did while sitting here was insane. 

Someone -Bill- kept saying...another round....

Carmen would go get that round.

Lisa would drink it.

Bill would drink it. 

Randy would drink it. 

Carmen would drink it. 

Eric would drink it. 

Angie would drink it.

And this slice of firecracker hair girl kept reminding herself that life is good.  The rollercoaster shes been on needs to halt.  Life has been tough.  Too many tears shed.  Too many sleepless nights.

Too many fearful thoughts crossing her mind. 

And so.....

Lisa drank. 

LOL

Arriving at home just after eight.  I'd start folding towels.  Preparing dessert, because hello, we hadn't indulged enough.  I started pounding water. Water. Water. Water. 

Laughing at eachother because I always preach about Sundays, and the importance of a clear mind for Monday.  

But no......

No......

Instead of waking with a clear mind...I'd wake at midnight, 3:30am, and then again at 5am. Pounding headache and the shrill of rollercoaster panic stomach because I can't sort, or even pray correctly. 

I become a twisted mess. 

Dwelling on allllllll the what if's. 

First texts' to my babies.  

Reply from this birdie.

"I'm good mama, just headed out to the island."

My reply back..."Can't stop, won't stop almost 27 this week honey, HAVE FUN!"

 

Side cute note- I received a text from him yesterday morning....

It simply read-  I love you Mom. 

I'll keep that tucked close to my heart.  

Beautiful weekend spent with friends.  Music.  Boats. Wine. Love.  Laughter. 

For that, I am forever grateful. 

I wish you all a beautiful week.....

Count down until I get to kiss my pillow right on it's forehead!  But before I kiss that lover on its forehead, let me kick some ass and get through this day like a BOSS!

Carmen....let's actually share the next "last" glass....

We missed you Russ and Jodee! 

Note to readers:  Don't get your arm twisted by the wine goddesses.... JUST SAY NO.

Love and Peace,

This Red Eyed Mama Lisa

More Minutes, More Hours.

Gone like the wind....history!

So proud of you for pushing through friends!  Those work week hours tossed in the air like a leaf on a windy day.  And if you don't work, and are lucky enough to tend to kids or a home all day every day, may the peaceful Gods bless you too.  Because if you get up, and get going every day...welll that's enough.  

And if you water flowers, you get an extra point. 

A friend of mine asked last night "Is there a full moon"?  

I suppose the energy in her home felt wonky.  

And as much anxiety that I feel on the daily, I have to say this week is ending in a sweet note.  Settling in close to my computer yesterday late afternoon after stalking Kris to make sure he'd made his way by to do "labs"-

Logging into the computer checking those silly fellers.  My underarms sweat profusely as I check, trying to find all the right "markers" I search for.  WBC, Platelets, Hemo's...RBC.  

I can't tell you how much I sweat, only my underarms show that filthy anxious warrior look. 

I don't wear underarm deodorant.  Never have. Most likely, never will.  Not sure it's really anything classy to share here, because wow, who does that?! HAHA. And if I ever stand too close and seem to be stinky...

Well, back up kids, back.up. 

The thought of deodorant and its chemicals streaming straight into my nodes...no thanks.

That shiz freaks me out. 

But.....here I go again.  Rambling' on about under arm deodorant.  Go figure. 

Anyway....his counts rose.  I rose.  Walked right into Bill's office.  Kissed his beautiful lips.  Hugged his beautiful arms.  And let out a little sigh.  Together. 

Texting Kris letting him know that news. 

His reply..."THAT'S GOOD Mama"

He's still a delicate little flower.  More like a plant.  A plant that needs nurturing, good care, and lots of observing. 

Arriving home last night pulling out all his medical "stuff" for some important phone calls we'd need
to make this morning.  Medical bills piling up in various areas in our world there at le' casa de stahl. 
Paperwork and important dates this boy has to deal with.  

His kind words to a lady on the other line...."my girlfriend has been amazing through this whole thing, she's never left my side. And my mom has taken care of so many things, I don't know what I'd do without them".

Truth is, we all just move along doing what we know is best. 

And that is just LOVE. 

This weekend we'll fill our cups with wine.

Dance in the street, and forget all the worries...

It's time for a party on DRIFTWOOD with our homies in Seal Beach! 

Garage Party 2015!  

Enjoy your weekend lovers.

This Mama Lisa

Be Kind, It Matters.

Happy Thursday to you all....

Keep on pushing....

 So close to the best F word.

This Mama Lisa 


PSST-- Birdie update
Last Friday WBC-(fighter white blood cells were at 2.5)- Today 4.6- WOMP!

And another fact for the day--
Today was my due date with him 27 years ago. I cut my hand that day cutting through a honey dew melon.
Shoulda got a stitch or two, but you know.  My name is Lisa.  Homie don't go to ER.
My shirt would be a tad dirty by days end, because so so many belly rubs. By me.
His hiccups would keep me up all night.
Braxton hicks contractions were at an all time high.
I'd give birth to him six days later at 5:49am on the 17th.
Favorite craving was fruit.  Lots of it.
Movie out was Turner and Hooch.
Neon anything was all that and more.
Our living room side tables were tv trays that I'd cover with cute cloth.
My favorite outfit was a denim short set jumper.  With draw strings. LOVE. 

1989, you beautiful year you.

Nurturing Souls

The tides come, and the tides go.  The waves crash, and the boats push.  The fish hide. And the fishermen hunt.
 The love builds. And the healing Gods heal. At least that's what we beg all the mercies for.  The smiles are in abundance, stopping time for just a moment.

He's out on a boat today.  With friends. In love. With his lover. In life.  In the moment.

His mom is praying like a warrior.  Pushing behind the scenes in all aspects of whatever it is us moms do. Relieved he is here.
In my life.
In this life.

In love.

In life.

In her life.

On a boat. 

Covered from head to toe.

In love.

With this life.

With this girl.

We love her too.

Happy Humpday Day!  

Go give love, life and smiles.

Most important, keep nurturing your souls.
And always keep blowing besos into the air....
xo

This Mama Warrior Lisa

Happy Birthday Cousin Jason and Kendra!
May you be lucky enough to celebrate many, many more....
You most certainly deserve it...

The Difference A Year Makes

 Friday as I was heading to the pharmacy to shake the gates and rock the walls...yet again....(more ignorance would "blossom" from a simple request for his nausea and noxifil refill) Don't we all love to go rock walls on a Friday night?  TGIF, right??!!!

Kris calls me.  

This is after navigating the day through a stint of labs and high blood pressure phone calls. 

At exactly five o' clock he'd call me to say the "covering" transplant team called to say his counts were wonky.  Not in those terms, because Dr. Chi doesn't chat like that. But you feel my vibe right?  Calmly expressing to Kris that his WBC (fighter blood) was at 2.5.  like,  nooo bigs.  

And to stop taking his chemo for now along with another med he takes only on Saturday and Sunday.  Possibly causing this issue to arise.  One fights with the other, scrambling "things"-

I instantly wanted to shit my pants. It's so wild how you can go from "hey, we're gettin' through this week-to- freak-the-fuck-out"

This new reality becoming my reality.  Either I freak the f out. Or I just sit back, and pray.  Still crying every.single.silly.long.day.  

As I arrived at home Friday night, I could see Bill was exhausted (he's been working his ass off)- But he was in such a good mood!  Enter me into the picture ------------>  Debbie Downer...

Asking him to pour me a drink and help me sort. 

Sort we did.  

It's amazing to sit and chat through something.  Learning to tell myself the worse case scenario is still there.  And life moves on. So I need to let things go.

Like my major nags to Kris and how I WANT HIM TO STAY IN ALL WEEKEND. I WANT HIM IN A BUBBLE. I WANT HIM DOWN IN BED. I WANT THOSE COUNTS TO CLIMB.  I WANT TO MAKE IT ALL BETTER.  I WANT THIS NIGHTMARE TO GO AWAY.  I WANT TO ERASE IT FROM ALL OF US.   "I"     "I"   "I"

ME!

When in reality he's suffering a gut so torn up, and insides that are fighting to be new, and better, and healed.
Can you tell their doggo's adore him?  Those fur lovers have his back.  That's fo sho!

Saturday morning would roll around, and Bill would be gone before sunrise.  I woke with a quiet vibe.  A good vibe to sort and be alone.  To pray, and light candles. I made a coffee that sat and got cold.  Just sitting there in silence, taking it all in.  What a way to be alone. With God. And me. To get a pedicure and do a Lisa day.  To smile at strangers, and leave places without a single word out of my mouth.  Just smiles.

I prepared a sweet dinner for my family.  One that Bill and Kali complimented as being one of the best.

Closing up our blinds early.  Tossing into bed for a day at the races.  Rising early. 

Arriving at empty clean places.  Hey there Simmzy's....

 That IS water, and not straight vodka.  boom.  LOL!

Give it to me baby.

You betcher bottom dollar we stayed until those big guns ran.  Not this handsome dude, but plenty others. 

I couldn't stop reminding myself of this time last year.  How fast things can change.  In one year.

One phone call. 

One healthy person. 

One normal life.

One lifestyle that gets tossed up and over.

Races last year.  He wasn't feeling good.  Kali hated the races. One big mess.  

We chatted this morning on the way to work.  My simple request to be in charge of appt's. again. I want labs every week, or every other. I want to lay meds out, and rock doc offices again. I want to stay in charge until I can see a bull has been tackled down just a little further. 

I want him to feel better. 

My over parenting selfish worry wart ways want him to eat like this..

Only a germaphobe would get this picture.  It's my apples and peanut butter.  The left side are those I touched. #FREAK

Keep sending Kris positive vibes.  Back to labs on Thursday.  New meds this week.  He's moving and forging on. He won't stop.  He won't let life take him down. He's tired of feeling terrible. He's most def tired of me nagging.  

This is our assignment....

I just wish it wouldn't grab me so hard sometimes.  Especially when we're least expecting it. 

But then again....that wouldn't be a fair life right?

Anyone heard of the book Sandcastles?  

Get it. 

Love to you all,

This mama lisa-  WARRIOR FOR LIFE.  Even though I am exhausted. Fight on!

This poem, courtesy of my Aunt Lynda.  Love.

I most certainly am stronger than I ever knew. Even remotely possible.  Big fat double headed, BOOM!

The Wisdom From My Father

For the last ten years, or so, my dad has done nothing but worry about their property. Most of the worry gets toppled with all the normal things in life, like wild fires, drought, financial, health, and vitality. It's never been easy to live on a large amount of property, much less, without family close by.  As they've become a tad bit older, it's become harder. 

I was shaken to my core a week or so ago while talking to my dad.  His guilt, and past have been haunting him.  Mix that with a grandson that became suddenly ill, and a daughter that tried not to worry him too much but would crumble at the mere sound of his voice.  

He shared with me his heart ache.  His fears.  His past.  His haunted guilt.  His body.  His worry about taking good care of our mom.  His hard work that has ultimately dwindled down to a state of exhausted depression.

And although I share this with you here, please know I keep things real.  

This is life. 

It's the parents that brought me here.

It's also the parents that did everything they could to provide.

Never ever offering the fancy.  Never ever offering us the material in life that would make heathen knuckleheads. 

In fact, we've both become hardworking women.

Something I remind him to be proud of.

Never ever did they offer us phony bullshit. 

He worked hard. 

She worked hard. 

They provided wonderful meals every.single.night.

Something someone said recently, (my uncle Alex)-is.....we never really know a recipe with raising children. And so we f up along the way.  We do good.  We do bad.  We make mistakes.  

In front of them, and behind them. But in the element of raising children, somehow, we tend to forge "something" in them. That "something", somehow, creates "Good"-

Right?

And so it's like this scale of good and bad.  The good always out weighing the bad. 

It's the nights that he made sure to come say good night...even after a drunk tangent asshole move.

He still would say goodnight. We sat down for dinner every single night to a home cooked meal. Even if it was "SOS" (Shit on a shingle? lol) Holla mom.

They took us to almost every single museum in the Los Angeles and Riverside areas. 

We camped at some of the most bad ass places in California. 

And yet you couldn't get them to a school function to save our life. 

But we ventured through camp grounds like gypsies.

Roughing it, and causing this sweet southern belle to never want to camp like that again.  JK. HAHA.

I'm far from a southern belle, and I don't like to camp. LOL

My point being here, is in this life of watching your parents navigate through the next chapters, as the table turns and the worries get maneuvered in our direction to appease and help calm them. 

Or him.

It's happening. 

And so going back to a couple weeks ago, I heard my dad out.  

He's riddled with guilt because he's never come down to be with Kris during this journey.

Or me.

Or my sister. 

Or Kali.

He has reasons.  

He cried. I listen.  I cry listening to him.

His responsibility is overwhelming on their property. 

Something that eventually needs to be addressed. 

But you know, I wouldn't even know where to start.

This tree that grew right up behind my parents bedroom (which was a highlight of their purchase years ago) is a major highlight when you look down into their bedroom. Not to mention, a little river runs by it...

a BEAUTIFUL Oak tree. 

She fell over.

The texts' come in. From both parents.  To both daughters.

Their hearts are broken. 

My reply to both, to be glad it swept away from their home.  They're safe. And they're alive. And of course, that I was so incredibly sorry.  Because I know how tender he is.  They are.

I realized driving home that night, that we all have our own source of worry. 

Of things that we lean on to feel hurt.

Whether it's a tree. Or grief from trauma. 

My sisters reply was "plant another one"

HAHA! Tina!!!

His words of wisdom to me.....

This is nature.  This is life.  This is part of the plan.  

They were unscathed by this falling tree.  Physical, not emotionally.  They are okay...

He let me know that when it gets real hot, the black oak pumps more water up into the tree which makes them top heavy....

As is true in life, right?

We can only consume so much into our souls.  Before we come to a breaking point, right?

So go enjoy the weekend.  Have a good time with those you love to be around.  Whether it's your cat, or your lover.  Go have fun.

Pray for my birdie as he navigates through the weaning of steroids.  His spirit slowing down. His body causing a ruckus on itself.  Pray for my fingers to not blow his phone up in text messages reminding him of all the little things I want to remind him.  My many phone calls I've made the last couple of days to the pharmacy, and losing my shit yet again at the one that can't seem to pull it together.  To the sweet but sassy nurse in LA that is so tired of hearing from me.  But knows I can't stop, won't stop. 

Motherhood.

 Warrior.

Don't blow me off. 

I won't stop.

Until my last breath.

Life.

Like a tree. 

Full of water. 

Love to you all......but most of all....my wishes to you is...PEACE.

And good wine. Fill up on that. But don't fall over.

This Mama Lisa

Happy Places

Last night we sliiiiiid into home base at the YC in the LBZ....

A place that holds my closest friends.

A place where a good margarita is made with tender loving care, and so only one is needed.

A place where sailboats come in at the sharp sound of a fake gunshot, bringing in the racers-holla Russ!

A place where food is home-made and chili is all the rave. Sour cream placed close by. Double holla.

A place where kids jump in and out of that pool close by, as their parents sip wine.

A place where summer air kisses your cheeks.

A place where my heart was overfloweth last night sharing that summer-time vibe with these two...

And if you wonder where my lover was? 

Working.
Hard.

Focused.

Determined.

Army Ant Mode. 

Don't you worry though, I brought him dinner on a silver platter. 

And if you wonder where I was?

Oh, you know just trying out my latest blogger modeling pose. 

Laugh with me kids.  Let's laugh!

My son sent me these.  I bet the ones we took together look funky.  

So, let's settle for side back shots. 

Happy Thirsty Thursday!  Go BE KIND and give out smiles!

This Mamacita Lisa

"If you get tired, learn to rest, not quit"

Those Deep Exhales.

It's no surprise if you've read my last blog post I was having quite the challenging time.

And those moments seem to jump in front more frequent, than not. 

I'm working through many days on my own.With the help of friends, and of course my lover, I am pushing through.  I've finally opted to search out some sort of counseling.  It's very clear to me that the hardest days of my sons life, seem to have lingered on in me.  I am still taunted by many memories.  Some very terrible.

Anyway.......

Thank you for sticking by me through these days. 

Bill and I left Friday morning.  Set the alarm for 4am Friday.  Something that is hard for him to be right now...is "away"-  Even at times when I'll sip my wine and preach to him under my breath  "honey, you know these days are slippin' away and we're gonna regret NOT getting away for breathers"-  He always stays quiet.  It's in his nature to work.  Right now a two nighter is heaven in disguise....

It felt so good to pull away on that freeway in the dark.  Down the highway to Del Taco in Barstow arriving at 6:30am to feast on their famous tacos.  At that crazy hour, I get their "Cabo" breakfast egg tacos.  Haven't tried em?  Do it. 

As we get further and further away, I can feel our tension lift slightly.  One little phone call from Kris that he mistakenly thought he had more chemo pills but he didn't. It's always a tad bit easier for me to make those phone calls, than him. I know everyone says "go have fun, and live"- In our line of business, sometimes that's much easier said than done.  Phones and emails rule our world. 

What did we all do before cell phones and emails, huh?

My birdie Kris posted something on Saturday, with some sort of subject along the lines of "my parents left to Havasu without us..."-  I instantly felt a jab in my gut.  More openly, right into my heart.  Two things I wanted to relay, but felt the reasons weren't even necessary.  It's too hot for him there.  And WE needed to get away.  Alone.  

And.....my birds are grown adults now.  Not to mention he's out on a boat at least twice weekly as we're tucked in offices kicking ass.  But I bit my tongue.  I did send him a little message from le mama. 

What I shoulda did was reply with something along the lines of 

"well, we wanted to walk around the house nakie, and have sex in the living room"  LOL  JK

But I didn't. Lucky them.

It goes along the chapter of life " you'll never know the feeling until you've become a parent"

In some other life, I'd like to not burden myself with guilt, but you know how it goes...

We, as mothers tend to hold onto that G word a lot longer than most. 

That little breather. Those quick little moments. A stiff cocktail and drinking before noon on a Saturday.

Laughing hard at each other, pretending there's no worries left on the shelf here in life.

Hearing my first "seasonal" monsoon thunderstorm at 3am Saturday morning.

Sitting on the couch watching everything light up.

Remembering the time my niece woke me at the sweet age of 14, so scared because that thunder is thunder like no other. 

Looking a little closer at pictures I have tucked around in nooks.  

Reminding Bill as he makes comments of the pictures we take...

"how old we look"

or 

"the changes of our hair, body, physique"

I quickly remind him, if we look back on these days 10, or hopefully 20 years from now we'll be glad we took them.  

The older we get means our only "once" happens right now.

And if we can take a breather and live for today, and step away to recharge....and live for that moment.

Adulthood...

No one said it would be easy.

But, the alternative isn't easy either.

My biggest love to you all,

Thanks for sticking it out through my journey.

This Mama Lisa

xo

ps. I took one selfie of ME but I'm selling it to the National Enquirer. Stay tuned at your local grocer. It's a doozy.