Mammaw

Mammaw was a wonderful woman. She was born January 1, 1925.

Born to an era when an intelligent woman had little value (heck women only got to vote in 1920) she was smart. She lived without electricity and indoor plumbing. No telephones or pretty clothes or make-up. She washed mountains of laundry by hand and later with a wringer-washer. Her whole life was spent in the coal camps of Logan County, West Virginia. Life was hard and backwards. When I was little, I had a hard time imagining her childhood. As an adult, I don't want to.

Mammaw was such a nice woman. She remembered tiny details about people and always made me feel special. She called me every day, weeks before my birthday, to remind me it was approaching. She gave me giant candy canes and one year, she presented me with a white buffalo statue. This was long before the internet so to find such a gift was a treasure indeed. I still have it and it's one of my favorite possessions.

Apache, my dearest

I'm writing on this side of the picture bcz it's his "good" profile. It was the large swelling on the opposite side that started this heartbreaking journey.

When the swelling first appeared, it looked like a spider bite, but it was freezing outside. There shouldn't be a spider bite during a snowstorm, so I took him to Vet S. She said it appeared to be an abscessed tooth and scheduled him for surgery. That was two weeks ago.

After a frightening night of unexplained wheezing, early this morning Apache made another harried trip to see Vet S. This time her assessment was dismal.
CXR wnl, but encapsulated hepatic mass visualized on u/s.
She was apologetic,
"I cannot believe I'm giving you another terminal diagnosis. . ."
She also asked that Apache be retrieved immediately bcz he was having a panic attack - even after being sedated.

SIGH
No, that doesn't begin to cover it.
Can I swear?
Can I bawl?
Can I have my own panic attack?
Can I throw up from overwhelming heartache?
I am NOT AT ALL PREPARED TO LOSE MY BEST FRIEND.
I AM NOT!!
I AM NOT!!
I AM NOT!!
Do you hear me God? Of course you already know this about me, and you know it to be true.
I AM NOT PREPARED TO LOSE MY BEST FRIEND.

adoption is a rollercoaster

Today was good day. It's still scary, but I've decided I must start the blog before time passes by. It's happening. My dearest, deepest wish (to parent those 4 children) is being fulfilled. Today my dossier returned from being apostilled in Austin. In adoption terms, it means the mountain of paperwork has been submitted and approved. I've ascended the USA side of the adoption rollercoaster; hopefully, the Latvian side won't be too scary. Maybe?

Immigration said YES

I-800A approval arrived today!!!
Approval for all four children.
This is really gonna happen! God has opened the door towards my fondest dream.

Next stop for paperwork - Latvia.

Halloween 2010

I just don't know what to do with MR. Don't get me wrong, I love her to pieces. But right now, she is slothful, disrespectful, lazy and at times, no fun for a daughter. What happened to my angelic baby?

Halloween 2009, she dressed like a Hoochy-Mama - despite my express prohibition. She had to sneak off with friends to do it, another rule infraction. So I decided Halloween 2010 she would trick-or-treat with her little sister. While her costume was more appropriate this year, she was basically a butthead for the entire evening. Dear Jesus, tell me how to manage this child. Instead of writing how happy TR was, and how much she enjoyed her Halloween, the focus of the evening was MR. I have half a mind that 2010 is her LAST Halloween.

Her Highness, Queen Bitsy

After a weekend battle with pneumonia, early this morning, on Mother's Day, the Queen of the house drew her last breath. I have to admit I knew she was going to die on Thursday. Sometimes being a clinician can really suck! I spent the weekend giving her antibiotics and breathing treatments, but I knew in the end it would be futile. Bitsy was no spring chicken. She just couldn't bounce back this time.

I want to give honor to this precious Pom and her indomitable spirit. She was first brought to our house for a visit. She was in a dog rescue, and she was unable to walk. Typically I do not foster Pommies, but when she snuggled into my lap, let out a deep contented "I'm home" sigh, I knew she had decided to stay. And once Bitsy decided something, it was a done deal.

It took months to teach her to walk again. The first day she made it to the doggie water bowl by herself? It was a glorious victory! Her spindly legs would never win a race or win a grace contest, but she did ambulate. She was not afraid of dogs bigger than her, and she was known to boss around the humans and dogs in the house. If she didn't approve of behavior, she would let out a loud ""AAAATTTT." I never knew a dog could make that sound.

It would not at all be appropriate for the Queen to die alone so I sat up with her. The girls had long gone to sleep; I didn't want to break their hearts any earlier than I must. But right around midnight, Darling Bitsy passed, and honestly, we are not taking it well. This is a sad sad day indeed.

Really, I'm not.

Living in a small town, people often assume they know what's going on. I get this a lot in my personal life. People think they know who I am dating - male or female. I used to spend time and effort retorting,
"Really, I'm not."
No, I'm not dating (insert name of choice from gossip).
No, I'm not getting married.
No, I'm not engaged.
No, I'm not pregnant,
and no,
really, I'm not a lesbian.
But over the past few years, I've quit. People are always going to talk, and idle minds live off the hype. I cannot change that.

It wasn't until recently that my children asked me about it. They have repeatedly (and adamantly) voiced their wishes that I never marry.
"We've lived this long without a dad and we don't need one here now."
"I like things just the way they are."
Or as Tabitha said, "You've got us, Mommy. That's all you need"
Maybe their childlike mentality is looking for security in sameness, but I suspect one day they will want to know, and the reality is this.

Once upon a time,
a long time ago
in a land far far awayI was head over heels, knock-down-drag-'em-out, crazy in love with Perfect Man (or nearly perfect man). He was religious, well-mannered, caring, educated and good-looking. Inwardly I melted from his glance. Outwardly I trembled from his touch. Thankfully he had similar feelings bcz my feelings weren't subtle. The sun shone brighter; I felt vibrant & oh-so-alive, and if the world around me got scary, somehow he made me feel safe. See?  I was crazy in love.

But that was a long time ago
far far away.
Love, like a fragile flower is beautiful, and it can be crushed into the ground.A lot has happened in the interim.
So this is the life for me now.
Once you've been satisfied in nearly way - emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually - it's hard to settle for so much less.  Nearly perfect may be a once in a lifetime event, and right now it's unusual if the guys I meet have held a job for more than two years.
Not even in the same stratosphere as Perfect Man.

So no, really I'm not gay,
but once upon a time,
long ago
I was "over the moon" happy.