The Fly Zone

Well, Kris made it through the weekend, and in total hazy and lazy fashion, they both managed to stay in and in bed.  She's pulled through like a champ with her wisdom teeth ordeal. Talk about a tough little cookie!

Bill worked all weekend, but not before we enjoyed a night out with our six-pack crew...

I managed to snap two pictures.  But here's a little peak at what this cute little gem looks like...

Habana's- Costa Mesa.  Give it a try.....so cute!  Most important the surrounding stores, like Buffalo exchange...along with Urban Outfitters...Date night kids...date night. Plan it.  Do it.

These swings......LOVE!

 Blurry snaps for the win.  NOT. 

Saturday morning I coerced Bill to finally let me bring in my table we so proudly made.  Gianni hauled this piece of wood from the ocean side in 2014-  

Doing this picture no justice, when you consider it was water logged.  Close to probably 200 lbs.

Living on our patio for a year and a half....Melt my heart as I sent a picture to Kali....and Gianni....

....making something rust when you're inpatient like me is brutal.  Hello vinegar and water and Muriatic acid concoction makers!

 And while Bill was working.  Kris and Jen were tucked away at home

.  Kali in sorority mode out there in good ol' SM-

This Mama went on a bike ride, and landed in our local dive (favorite) bar....

 Laughing as a local bar fly asked me "which one of you is a teacher"-  HA!  ---Dude, I'll teach ya somethin'

I sell fiberglass.  She delivers babies. She sells college clothing worldwide. And she works for CBS studios. 

Let me guess...."You.....drink here every day?" hahaha   Actually it was all in good fun.  He was a cool guy, just scratchin' his noggin wondering why we roll into a place like that on pink, green and yellow bikes instead of Harleys. no.big.deal.   Just hand over the cold beer and peanuts, and no one gets hurt.

 We arrived home on Friday night to the dredgers in full force.  To come back on Saturday and they were pulling mud right in front of our pad.  Cracking me up, because you couldn't even hear music.  Just our laughter and chatter....

Bill and I end our wild Saturday evening by curling up on the couch watching Supercross and asleep by 8.  

My cousin sending me this view of her walk up north....and something we both adore...

 Heart rocks. 

I hope everyone had a weekend that felt full.  Either full of love or full of good food. 

Kris and Jen just got out of his Monday's doctor visit.  He can hardly keep his eyes open.  His body is weak.  His virus is lowered (Thank you God!) 

No adjustments to meds.  So Mama will sit and filter and sort today when I get home from work.

He's also under direct orders to eat, or they'll put him back on steroids.  You remember this can be a problem.

Steroids make him feel good, but open up the body for viruses to attack. 

All science.  All faith.  All hope.  All working on a daily basis to keep him fed and going...

Happy Monday you lovers...

Leave your legacy of smiles, kindness and love wherever you go....because someone ALWAYS needs one of them.

HUGS!

I'm still hovering over my birdie-FLY ZONE....

This Mama Lisa

Day 43

Making today, Day 44.

Yesterday was his standard lab and doc visit day.  One that he kind of didn't, but did look forward to.  

It all started on Sunday when he hit a wall.  Trying to ease a body off of steroids is no joke.  Something they lightly agreed to, and yet just continued to monitor him.  On Monday, nodding that yes...the process does make you feel yucky.

He actually feels awful.

If you remember back to Day +5-10 he had a gnarly rash.  One that they thought was just from the radiation.  When soon, they began to realize it was "engraftment" or in his case GVHD.  When you have a bone marrow transplant, it's almost a guarantee that you will show or have some form of gvhd.  It's just kind of the given.  As miserable as he was, the docs said, it's good it went to skin, vs. gut.  And so they prescribed prednisone.  The devils drug as my friend Carmen calls it.  It's such a sharp double edged sword. 

It knocked the rash down, and  fights back to gvhd, but it opens up a monster of other things.

When you have a new system and new white cells, all the little viruses you  had as a child lay dormant. 

Kind of like chicken pox.  They do their thing, and then hide. When you take prednisone, it allows the white cells to kick back and not work, letting the steroid work.  And so little viruses can take you on.  And in some cases take you down. 

Some virus, (the most common in transplant patients) is called CMV. His appeared.  On day about 20. They watched it. They actually looked for it.  One, because it's the most common that pops up. And second, they'd have to pull him off prednisone....gradually....and so they test for it. If you remember, his appeared at like 525, then 535...then 900...to now at like 935.  Our doc says he gets patients with 115k from day one. And so they are taking precaution to it early. 

Both of these tasks have been brutal.  On Sunday he didn't want to get up and out at all.  Which is great if you ask me.  Here was this dude pleading with the docs to get on a boat, cover from the sun and move on in life. Coming and going, tossing his little mask on, taking dogs to the park in the shaded areas and afternoon. 

Trying to feel and live normal.  Because he did feel pretty good....

Hello PREDNISONE.  Hello.......

And good-bye prednisone....

Now, he doesn't want to eat. 

He doesn't want to walk the dogs to the park that would help his spirit.

He's lost 2 lbs.  Which if you see his body, you'd know this is a problem.

When you need to add one more hole to his belt....not good. 

He's nauseated.  He's thrown up.  I have to force feed, and cook things that maybe he'll eat just a little of.

His white counts dropped yesterday.  His virus increased.  His platelets remain the same. 

And so, as of yesterday he was put on another new medicine for anti-virus purposes.  Dr. Farol stating he believes it will knock it down pretty fast, because it's still low.  

However....they are concerned of his weight.  They are concerned of his gut. 

If the nausea (which they can't determine at this point is caused from steroid withdrawl) or if gvhd is in fact doing it's thing to his gut. 

If you don't know what gvhd, it's when the new donor cells are fighting with the small left over remains of Kris' cells.  That's why 100 days is so important. 

So....so important. 

It's all a miracle of how they switch meds, move them around and get the ball rolling to stop. Push. Change. 

Monitor. 

It's all a science. 

Meanwhile, he feels terrible.  Walking to the hospital from parking lot yesterday was a feat.  

And yet, he just does.  Shoulder to shoulder with his mama.  Knowing she's worried, but full of questions.

His doctor, again...sitting with us for as along as we want.  Me asking simple questions. Kris elaborating on just how shitty he feels. His doctor reminding him that 95% of transplant patients end up back in for hydration and med monitoring.  

He said he doesn't want to eat. But doc says eat and drink the highest junk calorie foods you can. 

Our new prescription would land me back at Kaiser close to home where I stand at the counter and sort with the girl working, and watching me cross off 20 prescriptions.  Taking notes of the ones they were half stocked on.  Taking me back there today. The one they were out of is of course the newest one.  Taking 2 in the morning and 2 at night for two weeks.  They had 12 in stock. 

I'll be back there today, or wherever they have the remainder. 

I was questioning why the magnesium prescribed was different from the one I was holding that read..protein. 

She brought the pharmacist over.  Standing there checking off my list and checking it not once, but 4 times.  This girl working was the sweetest most sweeeeetest girl.  Understanding me checking them off and double checking the dose.  Something I've learned is you have to double check the milligrams. 

Human error even in medical/pharmaceutical areas is real.  

Texting Kris who was laying back in the truck, which was running for air.  Said..."Mom, it's totally fine."

I'm on that energy again you guys.  That adrenaline that has pushed me through this river. 

That adrenaline that has helped me pray harder.  Trusting God.  The plan that is in front of me.

I cried alot yesterday when he left.  He makes his way back to Jen.  Their bed.  Their dogs.  Their life.

My hovering still filtering in the air in my empty house. I watered. Prayed hard. 

Called Bill in a bellowing mess.  

He explaining that we have to trust our doctors.  

Me, of course wondering why the fuck we have to have so much worry in our lives. 

Why. 

WHY!?

Why did cancer choose this family. This dude. This mama.  Why. 

I have to believe that of all the other families that have lost their babies. Their birdies. Their kids that once 

hugged their necks, and stood next to them laughing, and carrying on are gone.  I have him.  I can chat with him and help him.  He's here with us.  We can carry on in conversation driving down the 605 about life.  And worry.  And goals. Most important we dream.  We dream and talk out loud so much. 

We share where we'd love to live someday. He dreaming of living out in a country side with wide open spaces for his dogs and animals to roam.  To provide and give Jen what she deserves.  

He dreams of classic cars and getting back into the ocean...which I still fret....

He dreams of going to far away places.  With the friends that encourage him every.single.day.

If there's one thing about Kris, if you know him, is his friends.

That dude has hundreds and hundreds of friends.  And most reach out daily. If not, weekly.

A good group of fishing, spear fishing, surfers, ocean lovers.  Good folk, loving him. 

Through this. 

Loving him. 

It's a beautiful day in southern California.  My prayer warriors, keep on praying.  This CMV virus will be tackled.  I want his steroid withdrawl to hurry and pass.  I want him to gain weight. I want him to eat. 

I want the silly spirit back  

But I will keep my faith. 

And hopefully my strength.  My strength has always pulled me through.

And I really don't even know where it comes from. 

Jen is getting all 4 of her wisdom teeth pulled as I type this blog this morning.  It's gonna be a quiet, still house in Long Beach this weekend.  

And so I will fly around the nest....hovering.  Praying.  Texting.  And hopefully preparing food.

Have a great weekend kids.  

I'm still on that rollercoaster....

"The River Looks Impassible....Until You Put Your Foot Into The Water"

I leave you with this verse.  I stumbled across it this morning while praying.  Thank you Erica for this little black and white book I turn to for hope. 

"I am leaving you with a gift---peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid."  John 14:27

Happy Friday. You've made it through another long week. Some troubled, and some perfect. 

Whatever you've had, remember one thing.  Today is a blessing. 

Today is a gift. Don't take today for granted.  One phone call you guys. 

Don't stress the pity. The little issues that you can't control, especially if caused by another human. 

Smile and let it go. 

Forgiveness and love will get us all through.

And FAITH.  

The most flowing from this mama warrior who is a mess again.  

Big love, big big love and peace to you.

This Mama Warrior Lisa Lynn-

Little Signs.

Not sure if when I mentioned earlier to you all about "little signs", and what they mean to me-

Let me back up a little to yesterday. 

Yesterday when I had eyes that filled too easy with tears.

A mind that wandered to places it shouldn't have. 

A soul that was breaking on my way home last night. 

A spirit that was scared. 

When I arrived home last night from work, I did what I always do.  Take my shoes off.

Open or close windows and doors based on what is needed.  I began to pray.

One of the things I've mentioned is my guide through this with religion.  Or prayer.

If I back up a little to tell you some about me, if you haven't already figured out....I was raised as a little hippy child.  With parents that taught us to "be kind" and "be good to animals" and to just be a good soul. 

Religion sprinkled on top of my head at times through friends, or family.  I even took a Catholicism class when Kris was 4, because I wanted him to attend catholic school.  More so, to keep him safe and with "a good group of kids"-  

Financially that didn't pan out, and he did quite well in regular school, and so my religion antics went to the way side.  

Still going through life like I had a grip on the horns.  Moving through storms with my family.  And sometimes without.  I have always been incredibly strong.  Like super strong.  And not one to take shit from anyone. 

Until this happened. 

And I had nothing left in me but a daughter curled up next to me on the night of August 19- at 1am, crying and staring at her, asking "why"-  To soon ask her to sleep in my room and bed with me because I was so scared.  Talk about flipping the fucking table around. 

 I began to pray.  

I prayed and I prayed.  

I asked for signs.  I never understood, and still don't---- what praying to Jesus, or God, or Lord meant.  

I began to read. 

But first.  I asked for little signs. 

First and foremost, I asked to get through this.  

Something I still don't understand is how I have. Like really....HOW have I made it this far?!

And will continue to.  I have lost many days and hours through this journey with adrenaline.  Mama Warrior mode, if you will. 

I never had the chance to become angry with God, Jesus or the Lord, because I hadn't had a relationship.  Unlike others I've read about that are very close to God, and have lost a child.  Or have walked straight into the eyes of Cancer, and are angry. 

I am angry. 

I am scared. 

But I have asked for signs. 

Yesterday was a horrible day for Kris.  So much so, he sent me a message last night that kept me awake. 

It was one of the hardest.  

When a body is recovering from this process, and certain meds are eliminated it makes for a body to become so out of sync.  Fighting each minute and hour to just eat.  

Even a spoonful. Or half a banana.   Prednisone, you were a miracle worker that's for sure. Something so bad could make you feel so good.

After reading that text I crawled back into bed, into my rollie pollie position with 30 pillows, and I began to pray.  

Praying to please show me signs.  To please have mercy on my boy.  To ease this transition.  To help him.

Please God.  Help him.  

I have severe anxiety right now, but I pray it will ease.  You know, the part on the rollercoaster when you are free falling and if you hate rollercoasters like me, you're screaming or stone quiet because you just want this part to be over. 

That. 

This morning, he finally replied to my text.  Stating that he wasn't hungry but he'd eat what I made. 

He ate it.  

He said today is a little better than yesterday.

One family member of Bill's showed up today.  Dena.  And so we sat and chatted.

An hour later, Vicki (Bill's sister) stopped by.  Carrying a tropical plant. 

Most important, it's the little signs.  

To me, it's a sign. 

And by a "sign", it's not the material.  It's the presence of another soul.

Soul to soul, sharing a hug.  A re-affirming smile.  

Do you feel what I'm saying here...? Little signs.  Vicki never just stops by. 

Carrying a tropical plant.  

I see this as a sign. 

I see this as a little blankie over my shoulders.

That every thing is gonna be okay.  That our army of love and family behind us mean more to me than the panic of that rollercoaster.  People assure and believe in this and us.  That this will pass. 

Love.  

In all forms. 

More signs, I see on the daily.  No reason to share and try to convince you of having FAITH.

Praying. 

Trust me when I say.....prayer works.  

Not that my nights and early mornings are changing.  Because I will forever be changed.  I will forever worry. 

I will forever be a different mama.  A different Lisa.  A different friend, and girl.  A different daughter.  A different lover. 

But I will pray.

Love.  Keep loving you guys.  

To my friends that held me close, even through a text.  Or understanding my absence.  Thank you. 

This ride isn't fun.  And I want off.  

Big love, and lots of love to you all.  What a pretty day....

I am grateful for sunshine.  And one day closer to my boy being free from this ordeal. 

Now, If I could just knock the F word out of my favorite vocabulary- Man, I love that word.  

Happy Birthday Bucksie Boy!  Big 7!

That little fur butter ball has given us so much love and lots of laughter....Can't wait to spank his little butt tonight, guess he got into the bathroom trash today.....shark week hunter!  Jerk ball.....

Cheers!

This Mama Lisa

The Deepest.

The deepest form of strength, comes in the search to help your children.  And will be that way until you are taken from them.  

2010

 Keep pushing Kris.  You can do this mountain.  You've climbed way higher ones....

 And with the team you have behind you, I know you can do it....

(ps- to smell his sweet little neck again, slathered in his baby lotion after swimming lessons...10 months old)

Pray for strength.  Pray for healing. Keep your faith in front. 

I love you Kris. 

You make me proud.  You are the strongest, most polite and kind person I know going through such a trying time.  Don't give up!

This Mama Warrior Lisa

Reality.

Happy Monday lovers....

Hope everyone had a great weekend.  Talk about perfect weather.  I managed to get some long walks in.  Praying as I walked, and movement for my muscles and mind.  Planted flowers and rinsed things down, my way.  Which is always my favorite way.  Buying a new hose, is what I call "the little things in life" that makes me happy.  

Sunshine.  New hose-lol. Flowers. Replanting succulents. In with my lover at night.  Serving my birdies during the day.  Kris would come over on Sunday morning joining Kali and I.  

The three of us, chatting, talking and sharing love.  And stories. I instantly could see his quiet weak demeanor.

Here's the thing.  Steroids are outta the game now.  Which is causing a very weak, and ill feeling dude.  

He mentioned it yesterday and yet Bill and I could see it right away.  Quiet.  On the couch, or on the patio. 

Fighting to feel better.  But the reality of a healing body is staring at him in the mirror.  He'd move from patio chair, back to couch.

The side view for his parents, are just the same.  Only thing is, we tend to hover and worry a tad bit more. 

I never knew how much those steroids played in a role in his body.  His spirit.  His appetite. 

All of it. 

He's not hungry.  He's tired.  And he's weak.  He will most always offer a smile. And decline or accept food. 

Yesterday, he accepted.  

But not much.  And when he says a Nathan's Chili Dog sounds good (the way mama makes em) you drop everything you're doing and you go get all the goods.  Even if the Nathans pure Angus dog's were 8.00.

You get em. 

And you steam the buns.  And you shred real cheddar cheese.  And you layer it with onions and pickles just the way your family loves it.  And you serve it to them.  

Hoping he'll eat.  

 So this was a view of our weekend.  In. Peaceful. Vigilant.  And full of love and hope. 

Today he drove himself to COH.  Where we all filter texts' back and forth, making sure he made it. 

Counts okay...virus being tackled.  Platelets in check..My request for a new clean medicine summary.  Questioning one med.  And a mouth wash I'm still curious about....

His reply.  All good Mama.  Can you come home and sort my meds for me? 

Of course.  And so home bound I jammed.  First offering him food.  To which he declined.

"Not really feeling good Mom"-

Okay honey....I'll eat my lunch out here, and lets just chill. (on the porch)

Soon, I'd talk him into half a grilled cheese with pickles....

Sitting next to him I realize that this rollercoaster is still active.  Our passes are still validated.  He's not feeling well, and he's tired and weak.  His body is fighting to learn a new body.  White cells trying to take over and take care of him.  In doing so, without steroids he's wiped out. 

Nothing prayer and hope can't help us take care of.  He's gonna win this challenge. 

We'll eventually get completely off this rollercoaster. 

For now, we pray.  I pray. Every. Single. Day.  Alllll day long.

I hope you all have a great night.   You made it through Monday.  That cold foggy morning. 

And you're alive!  

Count that alone as a blessing.....

HUGS!

This Mama Lisa

 I mean.....can Hannah make this picture any cuter?------

Pray More, Worry Less?

 Our newest scheduled program ran a little something like this--(This week)

Monday, he drove himself.  Labs.  Docs.  Home. 

Tues, and Wed were normal days, with Wednesday being a tad hard.  On his gut. And on his body. His soul feels tainted, and again....just a tad down from the long path he's had to walk on. 

Never easy.  Doing it.  But not easy.  Manhood squirted with poison.  Knocking him down. 

But he moves on.  Snapping pictures. Hanging with the dogs.  Enjoying the great outdoors as his doctor told him he could. Living, but just precautionary zones and keeping smart. It's never an easy task for a wild earth child. But he is. 

Yesterday we jumped in the car headed to City Of Hope. Together.  

First to labs at 10am-Where you rush to sit.  And sit some more.

Remembering how thankful we are to be alive.  And able.  Most importantly, waiting for those wonderful people behind the scenes to process blood.  Lots of blood, for lots of people. Fighting the fight.  You sit in 3 different waiting rooms staring next to, or across from bald people most always covered with beanies, turbans, or wigs. I always seem to find smiles.  It's like that place just hold so much hope.  No one wanting to toss the towel in.  Even if they're sitting next to you on oxygen and in a wheel chair.  They're there for labs. And they're there to fight. HARD.

We'd be told after labs to make our way to the second floor.  2A to be exact.  Causing a little alarm worry red light to go off on Kris' soul. I could feel it, and I could most definitely see it. But I just keep chatting away, or we continue to look at various things on Instagram. Usually animals, food and photography.  Those three things that tickle his fancy.  Photography coming in a hot first place. 

2nd Floor causing no alarm.  First floor had some leakage because of rain. 

No problemo here kids...

First Stop. Labs

  And you know, it's only appropriate that I sit outside...because helllloo. n.e.e.d.l.e.s.  -----> shocker. 

We'd then make our way up to le' second floor. 

Where he becomes anxiously busy- on his phone----

And so....I read.  We both keep our minds busy...

Pausing from phones to chat about stuff.  Cracking each other up over pictures or things we see. 

One of the things I've always enjoyed about my kiddo's is the sharing of life.  Things we like, and little simple tokens of love that we all share.  It all has a new meaning now.

Soon, they'd call Kristopher....

Sitting in a room, waiting.  Room 3.  Waiting for Dr. Farol.

He comes in, smiling with his cheerful demeanor.  Asking of course..."how's it going Kris"

Any changes?  

He'd share the findings of a virus what we are aware of.  Only concern being, it raised.  Last weeks blood work was in the 500 range.  Jumping to 900.  He'd pull the remainder of steroids down to 0-  which also includes one that he takes with that steroid.  And so eliminating 1, adding Sirolimus (anti-rejection med)

Allowing his body to work for him.  Come on white cells, take it down baby, take it down....

We then got to view the results from his biopsy last week. Showing no signs of leukemia. 

Here's the thing with these.  It's exciting to see. 

It's a relief to know that no traces are present. 

It is. 

What it doesn't mean is that we will forever be clear.  

We will always watch.

We will always be aware.

We will always search for more answers.

Within a hundred days, we pray each day, each hour that his body doesn't reject this chance. 

So, with 4 pages of paper.  These two being most important.

Along with weekly doctor visits, and keeping  him safe from viruses, and rejection.

 His engraftment should read 99.9 at around the 100th day marker.  During the first days post-transplant if you remember him getting that gnarly rash, we were told it was engraftment.  When in reality it's a bodies way of trying to reject the new cells. And so, rash is our first concern.  

Kris has a mindful of questions.  Each week.  And I love it.  We sat with Dr. Farol for a good hour.  Me asking if he has children.  He does.  Twins.  One boy and one girl.  Kris asking if they think he's sterile.  Getting the answer he didn't want to hear, but hears.  He has a 1-2% chance of not being sterile.  I rub my arm across his back assuring him, we have babies in the cyro bank.  Not really wanting to say that, but we need to keep positive.  Again, that slap of man-hood in the cheek.  

Us asking Dr. Farol his thoughts, soon to hear his answer was he has twins because of infertility issues.  And so you begin to understand, that even without treatment, people walk paths a different way. It's life. 

His wife is a radiology oncologist.  And so....their life discussions at home surely turn to cancer way more than we can fathom.  He went on to explain how years ago he couldn't be persuaded that half-match siblings or parents were better than cord blood.  Where now he is opposite.  That now he believes with the changes (science) and medicines it is infact better.  He shared a couple of examples.  One being a patient on the 6th floor with a half match from their parent.  Treating them with a certain chemo to kill the old ones, allowing new ones.  And on and on he went.  Sharing goodness. Science. Life. Love.  With us. 

Both sitting there absorbing in massive fashion.  

I began to go over my med sheet. Which is called our "Summary Sheet"- 

Asking to take some off, and adding others.  He will be on an oral chemo for lifetime, so I'd have to ask which one, or to get the wheels turning.  

One, for financial purposes.  The other, so they can work with science. Latest and greatest.

I'm a squeeky wheeled mama.  He's so awesome.  Understanding my notes.  And reasons behind them. 

Waiting patiently as we stare at him, in a silent room to say ....."Anything else guys"-  

Kris...oh I wanted to know what other areas of rejection do you see in transplant patients.  Aside from rash, and skin.

Gut.  Eyes. Liver. And lungs.  

The two majors, are gut (where it eats the lining of your insides so no absorption can happen causing chronic diarrea) -(eyes are severe drying) and of course liver and lungs....just major issues.

His explanations are never ever rushed. 

Kris is a sponge.  He always has been.  He's VERY intelligent.  He soaks stuff up and retains it better than I ever could.  And for that I always will be grateful. 

He's no dummy.  And he's aware.  It's up to him to react with and to it.  

Kris just mentioning again about "boating"- And being out and about. Dr. Farol encouraging to get strong. But be aware. He can boat, but he must be vigilant about sunshine.  SUN. Sun......is the enemy.  So much so, Kris will wear beanies, hats, long shirts, gloves and SPF. It's the new life.  But it's worth living for. 

He also asked if we sent our THANK YOU card to our donor.  "Oh yes!" yes, we did. 

Kris is extremely detailed with his port.  One that I'm proud of.  If he doesn't like a port change or clean, he tells em.  Mondays wrap wasn't what felt right. 

Please change it.  

And so.....

 As we left, it was almost 1:45- I was starving!  But remembered he wanted to stop by the Koi pond. It's been closed every time I've walked by.  It is BEAUTIFUL you guys....simply beautiful....

He has his camera.  He has a new flash.  And lens.  And so....

In his element of what makes his soul blossom.  The simple things in life for him.  Fish. Camera. Trees.  Water. 

 I was looking at his little spiny back.  Him crouched down snapping away.  The sun on my cheeks,  and son in my view.  I kept thinking of how lucky I am to be with him. He's alive.  He's intelligent.  He's fighting for a new healthy life.  He has goals, and with goals come fear.  But we have eachother.  

He has an amazing girlfriend. And an army of friends and family behind him.  This past six months have taught us alot.  Knowing that any given minute it can change again.  And so I try and remind him to live for today. 

To keep kind.  And love hard. 

That I will never ever back down to help find a cure.  

He will grow that beautiful hair back.  He will be strong.  And help others someday. 

September 2015

 Soon, he'd say "Mama, stand right there I wanna get your picture"

One thing you should know about me, is I try not to sweat aging.  I try not to get caught up in the vanity of it. 

I try to enjoy aging. 

But....lately- my pictures are awful!  Kali posted one of me last weekend and wowza doodle.  I begged her to take it down. Her reply "Mom, stop"-

It was everything in my soul to stand back and smile for him. 

Reminding myself that I am here for a short time on this Earth.  And if he gets a shot of me here in a place that holds so much hope for us....well then good. 

And so I stood back. 

And smiled. 

Looking at him with his pants falling down, his little shaky hands snapping away at me, thinking the whole time...Oh my God, thank you for letting this day happen. 

Thank you God.

He reminds me of this sprig in the middle.  Growing.  Thriving.  Learning. 

Keeping my prayers in tune. 

Tossing and turning last night like a rollie-pollie in a garden. At times getting tangled in my pillows and sheets-

The rhythm of the full moon that bites us all each month.  Fighting the pull.  The tension of worry. 

The "what if's"-  The mama warrior mode that I can't seem to back away from.

The worry of work, and keeping a company going.  Sales, employees, and life where tension is high because of the moon.  

Praying.

It's keeping me going.  

It's something I care to not lecture, preach or post.  Just know this.....

PRAYER works.  

And my God is good.  

And so are good lens' and flashes.  boom.

Have a wonderful weekend lovers.  Be kind. 

Love, 

Lots and lots of love.....

This Mama Lisa

"Be somebody that makes everyone feel like somebody"