Mother's Day 2009

It has been quite awhile since I wrote in here. I've started school and between school and work and sleeping when I can it fills up my day. But it is Mother's day again and of course my thoughts are of Jeremy again. It was suggested that I look at some pictures and really concentrate on remembering the good times we had together on vacations and things. I said I wished I had pictures but they are all up north and Sarah and them haven't sent any down to me. Maybe I should just have them put a bunch in a box and send them and I could do things with them myself.

Jeremy used to enjoy going to Wisconsin Dells. One of our favorite attractions was the Wisconsin Ducks. We enjoyed the ride through the woods and over water and laughed at all their silly jokes. Sometimes Jeremy would like to ride it twice. He also enjoyed the boat tour too. Mom was with us one time when we took the boat tour and then we went to the Indian Ceremony at night. Jeremy thought that was really neat. We all enjoyed watching the dog jump across the chasm. Another thing he enjoyed there was Tommy Bartlett's Water Show. He would just crack up when that guy would do the sound affects show at the end.

For some reason this post sounds as blah as I feel. I guess I just have to take it as it comes. I should do something special to mark this day for myself, I just haven't figured out a way to make it special. Maybe I'll think of something. What are you when you don't have any children anymore? Are you still a mother? I hurt like a mother, but my son is off in a far land and I'll never see him again on this earth. I hope the time is not too long before I'll see him again in the land that is fairer than day.

Jeremy loved big trucks. One time we went to visit our friends in Canada and Adrian was a truck driver and he took Jeremy and his son on a day run. Jeremy never forgot that. He couldn't get over how different everything looked from "way up there" and talked about the air horn and the breaks and the log book and all kinds of stuff that happened that day. It was always a dream of his to one day drive one of those big things. That was a dream that never materialized for him, but it was a dream that he kept alive regardless.

I wonder sometimes why it is that we let our dreams die. If we don't see any immediate answers then we tend to give up and settle for the way life is. The way life is, especially if you are working at a job that doesn't interest you, is seldom something that will give you the excitement of getting up and going about your day. But a dream, that will give you something to work at.

It is just like a day you are planning on going on vacation. I can hardly remember what those days are like anymore. But you get everything packed and you get to bed and you are so excited you can't hardly sleep. Most of the time you get up and take off early just because you can't wait to get started. That is what it is like to work at what you love. I haven't done that yet, but I know that day is coming.

Meanwhile, I'll try to keep that dream alived inside, just as Jeremy always kept his dreams alive even though he wasn't able to accomplish most of them. He was a bright kid, and that was what bothered me the most of his entrence into the system. They stiffled his potential. I hope to some day establish a new community for the mentally ill that encourages instead of stiffles their abilities.

It feels so good to be out of the woods. People have said it at work and at church. It is amazing to see that look of pure joy. No shroud of weight hangs about her shoulders. And it all started because I came to a point where I saw all the anger that lurked within and was able to set it aside with God's help. I'll always miss Jeremy, you can't carry a child for nine months and raise him for 33 years without being united in spirit. But now, I can see the beauty of God's creation again, and I have a new hope within me that all things will turn out for good.

I think one of the things that held Jeremy back from being all he could be was the feeling that he couldn't possibly make a difference. It was difficult for him because he was held back in many things, but he could have done one thing at a time and over time it would have added up to a lot. But he couldn't see that. Even if he didn't see it, just by being himself, he touched a lot of peoples lives. They couldn't help but laugh at some of the things he did and said, but he touched their lives by his sense of humor and his urgent desire to spread God's word to all that would listen.

I know that I have had those same thoughts. How can I make a difference or how can I fulfill my calling when I have so very little money to work with. But I can do one thing a day towards my goal, and over time it can turn into something beautiful. Can one person really make a difference? I believe they can.

One day when Jeremy and I stopped at a park, we were walking and talking about how his days had been and he stopped and looked at me and said, "Mom, that is why I love you so much. You always took the time to listen to me, even when I didn't make any sense." There are comments like that which make me so glad I did decide to make sure he always felt he could talk to me about anything. And he did talk to me about anything that came to his mind. My son could talk more in ten minutes then I said all day sometimes. He was a talker. When he was younger sometimes I would say "next bite" at lunch time because it took him so long to eat. He was more interested in talking.

Even in his earlier years, when he talked mostly in vowels, he could put a string of words together faster than anyone I knew. When we wanted to say he wanted to go to Milwaukee Zoo he would say "aouee ooo" It wasn't until later that I understood he wasn't hearing because he had tumors in the inner ear. Where he came up with all those words I don't know because I sure didn't talk that much. Some people just must be born with all those words bottled up inside them.

I used to tell him to please be quiet for just one minute. Now, I wish I could hear him jabber on like that. He had a hard time to last one minute without talking. I bet he is still talking away up there, only now it won't be about Harley's, trucks, or flashing red and blue lights, it will be all about the honor and glory of God. Ah to hear that sweet voice again.

I'm having one of those blah days again where I don't want to move or do anything. I can't say that I am real sad, just a lack of enthusiasm. I'm finding out that grief can take all kinds of forms. The one that is the most long lasting is the lack of passion in life or anything about it.

I was watching a child the other day, and I wished I had 1/4 of his ambition and wonder of the world around him. I remember how Jeremy was when he was growing up. I have pictures of him doing the goofiest things. I have one picture of him walking around in my high boots and dad's old red coat that he wore all the time. He was always trying out something new just to see how it worked.

Jeremy wondered about a lot of things. And he had an imagination that is so important to do anything in life. His favorite pass time was laying on his back on the grass and looking at the clouds. He saw all kinds of shapes in those clouds. He would see things in pictures and trees and sides of buildings. Once he would point them out then I could see them just as plain as he could, but he was always the one who had to point them out. I saw things with no imagination. He was always stopping to check out a stone or some other object on the road.

Jeremy took patience, but I learned a lot from him. They say we are to teach our children, but I think in lots of cases we learn a lot from them as well. Now, I wish he was here to point out the things he saw in things. No, I don't want him back because he has it much better where he was, but I would like that imagination that he had passed on to me so that I too would have that wonder for life again.

Some days there are not enough hours in the day to do all I want to do, and some days there are way to many hours when the wonder of life is gone. I hope for a renewed vision of what my purpose is in life.

It has been quite some time since I wrote in my blog. I got hung up with not having a working connection and working hours that were a bit odd. But another reason is that I have moved beyond the grieving process. I have started living again. One of the first things I did was to attend the gem show and found many interesting things. I found things interested me again. That in itself was a new beginning.

Lately I have been finding out some of the frustrations that Jeremy lived with as he grew up. One of the main things I am dealing with now is hearing. Jeremy had a 95% hearing loss as he was growing up and many times people would get annoyed with him and say he just didn't want to listen, but the truth was, he couldn't hear them. I am experiencing that myself lately. If someone says something to me and I don't hear them, they get annoyed with me and get offended. Some seem to think it is because I am saying that they don't speak clearly. I'm not, it isn't their fault, it is that I can't hear. But I don't want to not be able to hear. I don't want to not answer people because then it will let them know that I really haven't heard anything they said.

Mom had that problem too, and she used to smile and say umhum and nod her head a lot. She didn't hear what you said, but she didn't want to ask what you said. If I don't hear what you say, I'm going to ask you. But I know now why Jeremy and Mom didn't do it, because it does make you feel as if you are doing something wrong on purpose if you can't hear.

You can hear a lot but not listen at all, or you can listen, but hear very little. I hope you don't have the problem as Jeremy had with hearing. But I also hope, if you don't have trouble hearing that you will be patient with those that can't hear. And never ever make them feel as if the problem lies with their unwillingness to listen.

Good intentions

Well, I had good intentions yesterday, and the day really did go well, but today, I collapsed both physically and emotionally. I had a wave of grief wash over me that I haven't had since I walked away from the grave a year ago. It took about a half hour before I could feel my face or my arms. It took longer for the feeling to come back in my hands but it is almost back now. But then I got up and walked out to the van and drove over to meet my friends at the restaurant. I don't care how many times I get knocked down, I'm not staying down.

I found out later that when I was at the lowest point, my former pastor and his wife were thinking and praying for me. Don't ever think that your thoughts and prayers aren't needed, you never know when your thoughts and words will pick someone up that needs the strength at the time. I had done so well yesterday that I had no clue that the grief was going to hit me so hard today. One thing I've learned through this all and that is that grief has no timeline. You can't rush it, and you aren't in control of it, God is. All you can do is get back up and move on afterward.

I'm tired right now, so I think I'll take a nap. Next time, hopefully I'll be able to write about some pleasant memories.

Happy Anniversary

Today was my one year anniversary. My roommate and I decided I should celebrate today as a day to remember Jeremy and also feel good about the fact that I made it through a whole year. We even went out for lunch and played some games. I had an enjoyable day and I figure if I could make it through this day, I could make it through any day that lies ahead. I gave myself permission to stop mourning. It hasn't notified my eyes yet that they don't have to tear up all the time, but that will come in time.

I was talking to a friend of mine and we were remembering a time when he went for a ride on the four wheeler and got splattered with mud. What a mess that was! But he had a grand time and that was all that was important. Jeremy was the type of person that used to crack up when something touched his funny bone. And when he cracked up, you couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't hold it back, it came out in all kinds of tones and made him breathless. It was such a riot.

One day Jeremy and I and mom had gone on a train ride to the end of the line in Canada. We had gone up one day, stayed over night in a little French village and then came back the next day. I had stopped to pick him up a comic book thinking he wouldn't get bored on the way back. Mom and I both got books as well. I didn't have to worry about it being boring for him. We shared the car with one couple. The guy was always laughing. He'd go through this whole string every time. He'd start out with Ha ha ha, hee, hee hee, ho, ho, ho! He had Jeremy laughing so hard and of course that made us laugh too. Our stomachs were so sore by the end of the day.

Going back to the comic book I picked up for him, he looked at it briefly once and set it aside. It was a comic I know he liked. I asked him why he wasn't reading it. He said, "I can't, it's in French." The man overheard him say that and that brought on a whole new bout of laughter.

He had a great day on the way back, and to top it all off he got to go sit in the engine and blow the whistle when we went over a deep and long gorge. We had lots of fun times together, and I am glad I could take today, the anniversary of his death, and remember some of those times. If any of you read this and remember things about Jeremy, please, post an answer and let me hear about them.

Today I gave myself permission to move forward. I've been wandering in a dark forest and sometimes you just need to rest for awhile where you can see a ray of sunshine once in awhile. There is safety in the forest. Your emotions and your body goes through a lot during the grieving process, and the only ones that know the reality of that are those that have been plopped down in the middle of that forest too. The others, all though they mean well, have no idea how hard it is to just get up and move sometimes. But regardless of how hard it is, just doing something is the only thing that begins the healing process. I thank God for my job. That means I have to get up and move.

Although it doesn't seem like much, the first thing I did this morning was go through my room and clean it out and moved the table from the sun porch to my bedroom so that if I wake up in the middle of the night I can sit and write for awhile. That was a big accomplishment for me, but it made me feel real good.

Giving myself permission to stop grieving and start living is the first step. I have had to talk myself through just getting up in the morning and I know that when you say it, and commit to it, anything is possible. Jeremy is gone, and I'll never have him back, no matter how much I miss him. He would not want me to stay stuck in the forest. So I am going to follow the river, and where I come out is anybody's guess.

What do you do when you hit that one year anniversary? Most people think by that time you should be over your grieving part and heading into a brighter future. Maybe they are right. All I know is that the transition isn't easy. But the longer you wait to make that change the harder it is going to be. So as I enter my one year anniversary, I am going to attempt to make it a rite of passage. I know that as long as my focus is on missing him, the more I miss him. If I think of his life and what we did together and thank God for giving me 33 years with him I feel better about it. I know that the passion for life isn't there, but sometimes if you fake it you make it. Just like if you don't feel like smiling but you smile anyway sometimes you actually feel like smiling. "Just do it." is a familiar saying, and I guess that is one thing I will have to work on. Even though my heart isn't in it, I'll just have to do it, and then maybe I'll feel better for doing it. If I work at helping someone else and get my eyes off myself and my loss then maybe I'll be helping myself.

I don't have a whole lot of available time, but if I could volunteer somewhere that would be a good start. I know that I like to sing in the choir and that is all good, and I got the grief group, but besides work, there is nothing I do. If I took that first step, and volunteered somewhere I think it might motivate me to get up and get going in the mornings. The question is where. At the library, hospitals, nursing homes, soup kitchen, what? I'll have to think on that. And if anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

Jeremy was an unforgettable kid. If you ever met him, you would never forget him. He had his own way about him. He didn't just walk into a room, he bounded into the room and almost dared you to ignore him. He acted like a tough biker dude, but he was a pure softy inside. His feelings were hurt if you didn't seem to want him around. He loved everybody and he couldn't understand why everybody didn't love him.

I used to tell him the reason why everybody didn't love him is because they didn't want him to be able to show me up. I spent 55 years of my life with only friends to my account and no partner on the horizon, it wouldn't be fair for my son to have a 'love of his life' around. We were just kidding each other, but it did help him to laugh about the situation anyway. "Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and everything else will be added unto you." Sometimes the 'everything else' comes only after you enter heaven's gates.

I shake my head at that now silent cell phone and wish just once more I could hear his excited "Hi Mom!" on the other end of the line. But I know that is never to be. Maybe that is the first thing I'll hear when we meet again on the other side.

I'd love to share pictures of him, but all the pictures I took of him were lost when I switched computers. Maybe someday I'll be able to scan some in that I had taken with him in the 18 wheelers and on Harley Davidsons and with the dog and ducks when Keith took him hunting.

Until next time.

I was thinking about Jeremy's funeral today, mostly because I got a letter from the funeral home. I think of it all the time, but sometimes it is more than others.

I remember the day that I went looking for headstones. I went to one place and they wanted $1600 for one. That about made me sick. I was staying with my nephew at the time and I went down stairs, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over my head. But then I thought, "No get up and do what you have to do. I called up Sheboygan monument and they said they would stay open for me.

First of all when I was looking around everything was $880 and that was more than I had. We went outside and walked around and there were two humps showing from the snow. She brushed the snow away and it was a heart. It too was $880. I said obviously what I wanted and what I could afford was two different things so they should show me something I could afford. I looked at some low gray stones but the owner knew I liked that heart so he gave me a price I couldn't refuse. The inscription was more so I passed on that, but they called a week later and said that they would do it for free. I always used to end his letters with the words, "Love you lots! Mom" so that is what I had inscribed on his stone as well.

If you need a funeral home, I would suggest Ballhorns and if you need a monument I would suggest Sheboygan Monument. They both deserve your business. They will both be blessed for their kindness to me.

My friends went to the grave yard and put flowers there and took pictures of the headstone. I have it as a backdrop on my computer. I can't visit the grave as some do, but I can visit it virtually on the computer, and later I will visit him face to face in Heaven.

I can't believe that in two weeks time Jeremy will be gone a year already. How can life go on like that? There are days when I'm actually quite happy. I wonder how that can be. Then sometimes I almost feel guilty because I am happy. Should I be? I have just learned to accept whatever frame of mind I am in and just do the best I can each day that I have. Maybe I've said the same thing before, I don't know, but that is what thoughts are in my mind tonight. Down in Arizona it is very nice weather and I was thinking of taking out my camera and taking some pictures of the mountains and cactus and trees around. There really is beauty in God's creation. You can see the beauty of God in His creation. Just like He cares for everything in nature, he cares for us too. He gives us a reason to go on. I'm not sure what that is yet, but I think for now it is just letting his love shine through me. I've heard that in Wisconsin and Michigan they have some very cold weather. There is beauty in the brown trees and the white snow as well. But me, I love to look at it, but not so much walk around in it. I give credit to those who can tolerate it. I'm just a snow bird.

Jeremy was born on October 15th 1974 without a rectum. He had to have surgery within 24 hours or he would have died. I was given the option of surgery, or letting him starve to death. I said, "That's an option?" I was told it was. I chose surgery, anything to keep him alive. He had a colostomy for the first three months of his life. On January 12th he had surgery to make him a new rectum. It worked, but three times that night he stopped breathing and three times they brought him back to life again. He was to go home in 12 days, but instead he remained in the hospital, fighting for his life, until the 28th of February. He had enough of doctors and nurses and he wanted to come home. When he got home he was so sick I thought we were going to lose him again. It was a good thing I had a doctor's appointment. The nurses were supposed to dilate him every day to keep the new rectum open, but they had not done that so it had grown back shut. When the doctor put that tube in to break the opening and dilate him, Jeremy screamed and the doctor removed it. When he did the blood and bm hit the ceiling and the doctor's white coat was no longer white.

That wasn't the end of things, all his life he struggled with going like the rest of us do, but I didn't mind doing what I had to to keep him alive. When I'd bring him back to the doctor one of the first things he would ask is, "Is he happy?" For the first 12 years I could truly say he was happy. That was important. A person can go through a whole lot in life if they have a positive outlook. Jeremy loved everything about life.

One day we went to a Pro-life meeting and after the meeting Jeremy went up to the speaker and said he wanted him to meet the most important person in his life, namely me. When the speaker asked him why I was important to him he said, "Because she could have chosen to abort me, but she chose to let me live." I never thought that even entered his mind, but it had and it made me feel so lucky to have a son like Jeremy.

One thing I found out about Jeremy as he was growing up is that he liked playing baseball as much as I did. We always practiced in the front yard and sometimes I would hold my breath when he swung that bat because he just hit and where it flew was anyones guess. But it always went way farther than I wanted to run for it. He'd miss quite a few, but when he connected it was out of there. One night when we were playing he connected with that ball and nailed a line drive into a big pine tree. The birds started squacking, the feathers went flying and they flew out of that tree as fast as they could. I didn't see them back again that night.

I laughed so hard, but Jeremy felt terrible that he had hit the birds. I told him he must have just nicked them and scared them out of their wits because they didn't have any trouble flying. He finally joined in the fun, but he did walk over to that tree, look up into the sky and tell the birds he was very very sorry that he scared them away.

That was my boy. He had a heart of gold. He loved everybody and everything. He would walk around a thistle because it was pretty. He picked me dandolines and buttercups to make me feel special. He wouldn't step on an ant if you'd pay him.

Until next time.

One place we went to visit was Mount Rushmore. I'll never forget the look of concern in Jeremy's eyes when he saw the presidents in the rock. "Are they really in there? How do they breath?" It took quite a bit to get him to understand that those were just faces carved into the rock. Everything to him was alive. The cars were alive, the statues were alive, everything was real, even things that were fiction. The next day we went to town and saw the film about how they actually created the presidents faces. Then he understood more about how things were done.

We went into Mount Rushmore cave that vacation too. Mom stayed on the top because we were warned that it was rough in spots. At one point we had to walk up stone steps that were damp and they had no side rails to hold on to. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get up them steps and hold onto Jeremy at the same time. One guy in front of me picked him up and climbed up the steps so I could carefully climb up myself. So many times things like that happened. Some guy would just take him in hand and teach him to swim or teach him to fish, or pick him up and carry him. There have been many times when people poked fun of him or wouldn't include him in things, but those times when strangers would make him feel special, those times made me feel special too.

So many times when we come across something we are not familiar with, like mental illness or handicaps, we shun the person becauase not knowing makes us feel uncomfortable. But by doing that we make their already hard lives harder. They are human beings, they have feelings just like everyone else. Just a smile goes a long way. I'm thankful for those who took the time to go out of their way to make Jeremy feel like he was as good as anyone else.

This morning I was thinking about when my dad died. Although we never had a close relationship, he treated Jeremy very well. Jeremy could be a little dickens and when grandpa would scold him he had a way of getting at grandpa's good side. Most everybody was scared of grandpa, but not him. He would toddle up to him and lay his head on his knee and say, "I wov you gampa." My dad's hand would drop to his head and he'd muss up his hair and say, "You little stinker you." Dad was the only father figure Jeremy had.

When dad would get down on his hands and knees to do push ups, Jeremy would crawl on his back. My dad would laugh so much he could hardly do his push ups, but then he would get it together and do his push ups with Jeremy on his back. When he did his sit ups Jeremy would hold his feet.

Dad would take him for a walk sometimes, most of which he really carried him on his shoulders, and they would go sit in the woods somewhere about two miles away and watch for deer and other wild animals. By the time they came home Jeremy was sound asleep.

Jeremy was 4 years old when his grandpa died and he didn't understand it at all. He asked me one day where he went. I said, "He went up to heaven." "How did he get up there, did he take a bus?" I told him the angels took him up there. "Is there a stairway to go up there, can we go up there and see him?" I told him we couldn't go up there but that it was like a butterfly coming out of its caccoon and flying off. He understood that, but he said, "I don't like it!" I told him I didn't like it either but that grandpa would be waiting for him when he came to join him. He said, "I hope it's real soon." He had to wait 29 years, but he finally got his wish.

One vacation that mom and I and Jeremy took together which is always fresh in my memory is the time we went to Arizona. The first thing that happened was having our trip interrupted by car trouble. We would start out our days by figuring how far we would get that day, what motel we would stay at and any attractions that were near that area. That day we made it a total of 10 miles. My transmission was shot and it needed a refurbished one.

That night we stayed in a motel close by while the mechanic stayed working on my car till midnight. The restaurant across the street was expensive so we didn't eat much. Jeremy and I walked a mile up the road to get some supper for us and brought it back to the motel to eat. There were tornado warnings out and Jeremy was freaked out about that. When we asked them at the motel where we would go if a tornado touched down they said they had no idea.

We were all disgusted by the delay in our travel plans but as was mom's way she said it was all in the providence so not to worry. The next morning when we got up and turned on the news we saw pictures of the motel we were going to stay at, had we gotten to where we were headed. It was destroyed by a tornado and the cars had been tossed a mile down the road. Mom was right, it was God's way of protecting us.

When we did get to Arizona we spent a day at the Grand Canyon. We all loved it and were awe struck by it. How can you not be? Jeremy had already started with his strange behavior at that time. Later we found out he had Schizophrenia but we didn't know that at this time. At one point at the Grand Canyon he was walking, looking off to the side over the rim of the canyon and he walked smack into a tree. "Mom!" he yelled at me. He was very upset with me because he walked into a tree. It took a bit for me to get him to realize that he had walked into the tree, I hadn't pushed him into it. I thought it was funny, but even at that time I found out he had a mind of his own.

We did have many good days on that vacation though. Times at Old Tucson, swimming, visiting with family, the petrified forest, even a wayside in the desert where you were reminded to stay on the walkway because of poisonous spiders. At Old Tucson Jeremy and I walked around looking for actors and didn't spot a one but had a good time in the process. Mom sat in an air conditioned restaurant sipping an ice tea and one of the actors came over to chat with her. She had one up on us. It was 120 degrees there that day and I loved it. I guess that is why I came back down here.

The thought came to mind last night as if someone were asking me a question. "Are you all right?" No, I don't think I'll ever be all right again. How can you be all right? I look around me at the one room I am using, and there is mail piled up on the dresser, some of it very important, unopened. Stuff is where I have taken it off and dropped it. The bed isn't made. Nothing seems to have meaning. And you know what, I don't even care. Well, I guess I do or I wouldn't have noted it. But it is just that they say things are so much easier when you have something that you are passionate about. I'm not passionate about anything anymore. Oh sure, I'm still passionate about writing, but I haven't started another book. I write in notebooks and here and on napkins sometime, but everything seems to be as jumbled up as my life is. Little pieces of this and that without any connection. The only connection anything has is it is coming out of my head. What is it that makes life interesting? You'd probably get a million answers and they'd all be different. But what makes my life interesting? Getting up in the morning? Working at Walmart? Reading? I guess of all of them reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle is the most interesting. But life in general? I can't honestly say.

We had been vacationing in Canada and visiting some friends in Michigan and when we got to a visitors center in Escanaba we stopped to take a break. As we were in the building looking around the workers were discussing a group of bikers that had pulled up and nobody was going to go out and tell them to move their bikes which were parked in the wrong spot. It was time for us to leave then and as we walked out Jeremy's eyes got really big and he went straight up to those scary bikers and said, "Cool!" After walking around there bikes and saying "Cool!" a dozen times one of the bikers asked me if he could give Jeremy a ride on his bike. I said sure but didn't really feal comfortable about it until I saw him come safely back. He was all smiles and everyone had to pick him up and hug him and high five him. He was in his glory. He was hucked. From that day on he was my little Harley Davidson guy.

When I was thinking about the times my son and I spent together I wondered where I would start, because we sure did a lot of things together. We vacationed all over the place. There was only one vacation I decided to take on my own when he was younger and I missed him so much it wasn't even fun. They say that you have the responsibility to teach your child as they grow up, but I've found that they can teach you a lot too.

When Jeremy was around seven years old, I took him to Niagara Falls in Canada. I had to keep a tight hold on him because he was fascinated with the power of the water going over that falls. One man standing next to him told him how a man had gone over the falls in a barrel. He was awe struck by that and we had to go find out about that. It was great to see the wonder in his eyes.

On the way back through Michigan we ran into construction along the way and I got a bit lost. We decided to stop for a bite to eat and I thought maybe I could find a good place to stay as well. Jeremy managed to spill his milk over the table and I scolded him that he should be more careful next time. Tears welled up in his eyes and he said, "Not do on purpose Mommy." I told him I knew that, but he should try to be careful next time. I don't think I was really annoyed with him for spilling his milk as much as I was annoyed with myself for getting lost. It wasn't no ten minutes later when I reached for something, just as he had, and knocked my coke over and it landed right in my lap. I had tan pants on too!

Jeremy laughed and laughed and then said, "Know you not do on purpose. More careful." I was so embarrassed, but I just had to start laughing after that. That was the last time I scolded him for spilled milk.

It turned out we were right across the street from a good motel, looked worse than the one I thought would be good, and on the right road to get back on the highway just a few miles down. All the while I was washing out my pants Jeremy was giggling and it was a wonderful sound.

Next time I'll tell you how Jeremy got hooked on Harley Davidson.

Happy New Year!

I've been out of touch with the world due to a bout with the flu. It is good to be back in touch. The other night when I crawled into bed the thought came to me that I had to forgive the doctor for not doing surgery the day Jeremy came into the hospital. I found that easier to do than the thought that followed next, which was that I had to forgive myself for not being there for him. It tore my heart out. I didn't know that those regrets were still there. The tears of regret are the bitterest of all.

I know that for 32 years and 7 months I was there for him, and I shouldn't beat myself up, but the thing that makes them 5 months so important is the fact that they were his last 5 months. I can never get them back again, no matter how much I'd like to. I didn't leave and never contact him, he wouldn't have left me and I wouldn't have wanted to. He called me about 12 times a week and I wondered what to say to him sometimes when he called because he was always talking to me.

That seems so strange now. I sometimes look at my cell phone and will it to ring. That reminds me of the night of his death. A friend of mine had invited me to spend the night and they would bring me to the airport in the morning. Before I got in bed I said, "Oh wait, I have to get my cell phone handy, Jeremy always..." Then I stopped. Jeremy would never call and wake me up again on a Sunday morning.

And now it is the new year. Eleven months have already gone by. It seems hard to believe once in awhile. One thing I am thankful for and that is all the memories I have of Jeremy and I and all we did together. Next time I'll share some of them.