tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68037007850276596762024-03-05T21:40:30.411-06:00PollyannaI can do everything through Him who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13 NIVGinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.comBlogger185125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-89345568554439225572017-12-08T21:33:00.001-06:002017-12-08T21:47:55.828-06:00The Death of a Child - Part 1<div class="MsoNormal">
Anticipatory death . . . a thousand deaths. I anticipated
this – obviously . . .I was told my son had a fatal disease and he most likely
would not out live me. The anticipation of my child’s death lead me to seek out
other parents who had been through it. This is what I heard . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“You’ll never be the
same . . .”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“Not a day goes by
that I don’t think about her . . .”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“It’s the worst thing
ever!” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“A piece of me died
with him . . .”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“She’s the first thing
I think of when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think of before I
go to bed.” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>“You don’t ever ‘get
over’ it.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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That was unsettling. Surely there had to be <b>hope</b> . . .?<o:p></o:p></div>
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What I <b>didn’t</b>
hear was – <i>it’s going to be OK. You’re
going to be OK.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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Mo<s>n</s>msters, I’m here to tell you, <b>it’s going to be OK.
You will get through this.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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Early on I knew this difficult journey was going to push me
beyond anything I could try and imagine. I needed help so I went looking and
started to prepare.<o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the things I did to prepare was read the Bible cover
to cover. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One thing that stood out to me is that God brought all of us
here for a purpose. He loves each and every one of us sooooo much. He created
us. We are His. Thinking about this I thought, “Then these children are not really
mine . . . they are His.”</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S7Wjro6Ob6HxpEZUoOe7sl6XzVUoRbtDDfoPJUnH5-F3-1antLhzM9Fd9qeXgn5dsmcmH3Xzreu9uat1btiEiwsKVKkdP-S7zwl1a3tdzoBQ1S_SGum_k6xtxdBLO5tiX2JE98oRm5DE/s1600/Mike+and+Richie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="1259" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S7Wjro6Ob6HxpEZUoOe7sl6XzVUoRbtDDfoPJUnH5-F3-1antLhzM9Fd9qeXgn5dsmcmH3Xzreu9uat1btiEiwsKVKkdP-S7zwl1a3tdzoBQ1S_SGum_k6xtxdBLO5tiX2JE98oRm5DE/s320/Mike+and+Richie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yes, they are His. I am here as their mother to fulfill one
of the purposes He has planned for me. But, God is their Father. No one will
ever love my children more than I do except their Father. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In view of this, I started to look at our journey a little
differently. These little assignments from God are here to bless us. I knew no
matter how difficult things got He would see me through it. I learned to rely
on God and His blessings. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And difficult it was! I can remember the weeks before my son
passed away. The pain was getting unbearable as I watched him struggle and
suffer. I can remember at one point as I was walking down the hall toward
Mike’s room. . . the hum of the oxygen machine . . . and his dreadful cough. I
collapsed against the wall, exhausted mentally, physically, spiritually and I
said out loud, “God, is it time for you to take him? Are you coming soon? Are
you trying to tell me? Because I know my Mikey is getting so tired . . . Dear God I don’t know how much more I can take
. . . please give me strength!” <o:p></o:p></div>
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When my son went to be with his Father, I didn’t die too. Yes,
I was in incredible pain. But by this time I had gotten into a pattern . .
.when I was in awful pain I laid it at the foot of the cross . . . it took a bit but finally one day the
habit kicked back in and I said out loud, “God, I can’t carry this!” As always,
my Father was with me and He heard each of my cries for help and answered every
one. I was reminded once again about everything I had read. I knew what God
wanted me to do. I needed to continue to carry out the other assignments He had
given me. I remembered that even in my darkest times He saw me through. I had
renewed faith that He would help me survive this as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And momsters, he does. I have no other reason for the peace
that I have. It is given to me. I do have to work at it. I remember how hard
Mike had to fight to stay in the ring of life as he went round to round. I
reflected what Mike taught me and began to fight – fight for my peace. The
tempter wants to take it away but I fight for it when I need to and God always
helps me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfWrtf153uqT8O4D6lNLvdPEfuFiVmqcHvGGiWH-ra3wWe-r1utxhlXzSOsvGO5ohcFiOfa1rU_ZpcyG2kO4pBH-uTY5bQLYpma1vAk3G0uKXhYLNQAfy_Qw3rkvE4RG4Sfw5i3eumvhk/s1600/Richie_24862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfWrtf153uqT8O4D6lNLvdPEfuFiVmqcHvGGiWH-ra3wWe-r1utxhlXzSOsvGO5ohcFiOfa1rU_ZpcyG2kO4pBH-uTY5bQLYpma1vAk3G0uKXhYLNQAfy_Qw3rkvE4RG4Sfw5i3eumvhk/s320/Richie_24862.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It’s never too late to start to fight. Be good to you. I
didn’t start out doing that. I took no time off of work and jumped right back
in the day after Mike was buried. Even if it has been years – start right now.
When you need something ASK. Don’t do the – well, if they don’t know, then . .
. That only hurts you. Believe that you
are important enough to have your needs met. Remember, no one will value you
more as a person, than you value yourself. Meaning, if you keep taking on all
kinds of crap, that’s what you will get. Because that is the message you are
sending. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Don’t take on too much (the pot calling the kettle black
here). When you need to step back and take a break, take it. Even if it’s been
three years! You will be of no use to anyone if you drill yourself into the
ground. <o:p></o:p></div>
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If you’ve not been able to do much of anything, take baby
steps. Fight. Remember there are other assignments God has for you. If you
don’t know what they are – seek them out. We all have our own purpose to
fulfill. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In my darkest hours the thing that always helped me was
practicing gratitude. While my son was lying there dying before my eyes, my
heart and mind went on auto pilot. I had the most overwhelming feelings of
gratitude and peace. Even when he went through his restless stage (which, while
I anticipated it, I thought surely would push me over the edge) my heart told
me to be thankful - God is using this in Mike’s fight. Better for him to want
to go home to Jesus then be tormented by fighting with the world to stay here.
I wish I could articulate this better. My heart was grateful as I trusted God’s
plan for Mike and for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After Mike’s death I looked for people who needed help. They
are all around us. It helped me to give back and to reach out. Purpose.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgt2onRAd97Ak56ERzfIK7zw2FV6APCG-OIleME3bHgD5gSRmhLn3hkWloIDzr3_IZd8JBfmc84xMcWeK7rTYMs1T-6td1Gdvx-9UttVCmvAR18duilSYIT6fQebgXWitfsK_92Yg6Lsg/s1600/IMG_0966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijgt2onRAd97Ak56ERzfIK7zw2FV6APCG-OIleME3bHgD5gSRmhLn3hkWloIDzr3_IZd8JBfmc84xMcWeK7rTYMs1T-6td1Gdvx-9UttVCmvAR18duilSYIT6fQebgXWitfsK_92Yg6Lsg/s320/IMG_0966.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God has given me new </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PF9HdSvXRLYtx6LRZWmhZ0F43mep3BF8DYXtFUT4TTwbPL9hhLDWG57xhir78UlwjqmGFNJrO2MerOxo_s7q3mhAj4rly-DKR73_C2dtMGl7nY3E1zTmO5Rwu_uLEcjII-4rdW8H3olF/s1600/IMG_0949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PF9HdSvXRLYtx6LRZWmhZ0F43mep3BF8DYXtFUT4TTwbPL9hhLDWG57xhir78UlwjqmGFNJrO2MerOxo_s7q3mhAj4rly-DKR73_C2dtMGl7nY3E1zTmO5Rwu_uLEcjII-4rdW8H3olF/s320/IMG_0949.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">assignments/blessings :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I say practice and fight I mean that literally. These
things will not happen if you <i>stay</i> in
your bed with the covers up over your head. They won’t happen while you choose
yelling and screaming at everyone in your life because you are in pain. They
won’t happen while you are logging every insurrection that has been done to you
since your child passed. And I know how tempting it can be. Baby steps. Make a
better choice. It might not be the best choice, but progress that moves you
forward – no matter how small the step- is better than moving backwards.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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There is so much more that I want to share with you. I will
make this Part I. It is Advent. As we prepare our hearts and our homes for the
Christ Child, I hope that you will seek out the peace that only the Christ Child
in the manger can give. Peace that goes beyond anything that we can comprehend.
It is a wonderful peace. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Please don’t think for one moment that I have this all
figured out. I don’t. I stumble and fall but then I get back up and I try again
– even after 3 years. More to come in Part II. I just really want to share with
you what has worked for me because seriously, most of the time I have peace. These
same things are what get me through every time. Trust God. Rely on His
promises. Be good to you. Forgive yourself. Forgive others. Don’t take on too
much. Know when enough is enough. Stop pretending everything is fine. Practice
gratitude. There are many, many hurting people out there that need your help.
Fight. When you have a bad day let it go. Forgive yourself and get back up for
“One More Round!” Look for the little assignments God has in store to bless you
with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Please know this . . .this journey of peace is not a
destination that we are trying to get to so we can say we are “over it” as some
might seem to imply. It’s a guide of how to survive and maybe even thrive while
we finish our walk toward home. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s going to be OK. You’re going to get through
this. Your Father walks with you. We are all in this together. You are not
alone. Reach out. Peace and blessings to you my friend.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Love, love, love,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mama Gina</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-48228296020020376372015-08-30T12:15:00.001-05:002016-02-05T22:31:16.827-06:00Purpose<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">“What am I good at?”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">“How come Annesley can look at her memory work and then say
it and I have to look at it and look at it and look at it and I STILL don’t
know it!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Mrs. Wagenknecht was a wonderful advocate in Mike’s life.
When he was a small boy he struggled as I continued to work at getting his
learning disabilities diagnosed. He was in second grade and he still couldn’t
read. He uttered the words above in frustration. Mrs. Wagenknecht knew all of
the students in the classroom. She was telling me about all of their attributes
and I asked her, “What about Mike?” Without hesitation she said, “Mike is a
good friend.” </span><br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><em>Mike is a good friend!</em></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">How true. That statement would be reiterated from almost
everyone he met for the rest of his life. Pretty much everyone liked Mike and
he was a good friend to many. When he was working full time he felt he was
contributing. When he was dancing he felt accomplished. Especially when he was
doing charity work with Julie.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZF_Zc_0x8aVNDtDSQx9_gZjfxxFS3mflZWrDIuTHqf2Bi0UtJpc9aDmAtRacEgDwqGgQjmeUm-t-RuwFdRM1tR5u-0ao4AzpII3Bo9T0NCjTRhie2O5Jt-2V2MfNKyrTw97US5gllEX3/s1600/Clown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ZF_Zc_0x8aVNDtDSQx9_gZjfxxFS3mflZWrDIuTHqf2Bi0UtJpc9aDmAtRacEgDwqGgQjmeUm-t-RuwFdRM1tR5u-0ao4AzpII3Bo9T0NCjTRhie2O5Jt-2V2MfNKyrTw97US5gllEX3/s400/Clown.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning to paint on the clown face <br />
from our family friend Pam</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">As time went on and Cystic Fibrosis weakened his body, he
began to question his purpose. We talked about this on more than one occasion. We
had lots of time to chat on the drives back and forth to Madison or during my
visits while he was in isolation. It never seemed like it took much to
encourage him. He would talk about stuff but you never really saw his struggle.
I think it’s because Mike lived his life with such intention. He had to purpose
every day to continue to thrive. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">A few months after Mike passed away I went up into his
mostly untouched third floor room. I started looking around. Just kind of
nosing about. I became quickly frustrated not really knowing what I was looking
for and gave up my quest.</span><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: calibri; font-size: large;">A few days later
I found myself up in his room again. Just looking around from corner to corner
thinking about Mike and his life. I started to search once again . . .this time
a little more intently. I picked up a couple of his things and then walked over
to his book case. This is where he kept pills and CDs and things that were
close at hand . . . and there it was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">I didn’t remember it when I first found it . . .I had to
read and study it. It was exactly what I was looking for.</span><br />
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1c_RdYdWArnYD6UzS55_uuScX0P0eo-U1oxcgaWAHZiOJjju5cUxqLm-W0v9SwY5h_VL6MOSRN0WGRN5FcG9UOy3tn88fg_nWK1-BaqzyFW1WGk7hSpUXV50DkKb9-S5j70p19x_RSNA/s1600/Letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">.</span></i></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Let me write you a few of the words I found in this letter I
had written to Mike in March of 2013:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We talked about plans and the future. Do you ever wonder why
we are here? Why God put us here in this very spot, at this very moment?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I believe we are all here for the same reason and that
reason is to glorify God. Some of us will do that by being a Pastor, some by
being a policeman and some by riding a motorcycle, being a good friend etc.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1c_RdYdWArnYD6UzS55_uuScX0P0eo-U1oxcgaWAHZiOJjju5cUxqLm-W0v9SwY5h_VL6MOSRN0WGRN5FcG9UOy3tn88fg_nWK1-BaqzyFW1WGk7hSpUXV50DkKb9-S5j70p19x_RSNA/s1600/Letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-1c_RdYdWArnYD6UzS55_uuScX0P0eo-U1oxcgaWAHZiOJjju5cUxqLm-W0v9SwY5h_VL6MOSRN0WGRN5FcG9UOy3tn88fg_nWK1-BaqzyFW1WGk7hSpUXV50DkKb9-S5j70p19x_RSNA/s320/Letter.jpg" width="258" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So in other words, it doesn’t matter what we do as long as
it glorifies God. Can we do that by being disabled and riding a bike? You bet!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You said you don’t feel like you do anything to be proud of
anymore. Maybe that is the problem - - it’s not about you. When our focus is on
ourselves we don’t glorify God. When our focus is on God, then everything we do
is for Him. We glorify Him by making the best with everything He gives us and
that is what you do! And that is what people see and admire in you. Your
perseverance. The fact that you get back up and keep fighting no matter how
hard life has kicked you down. You stumble and fall like the rest of us but you
get back up and press forward with more determination and motivation and that
motivates and mystifies others.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You have a disabling disease and learning disabilities but
you have so many more gifts than disadvantages. You are creative. The stuff you
have done with music and dancing are remarkable. Just beautiful. Your inner
strength shines brightly. Your thoughts are so deep. You have such an understanding
of people and life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I could go on and on. I couldn’t be more proud of you if you
were a brain surgeon or astronaut. Keep doing the best you can with what God
gives you like you always have. That glorifies God and is exactly what his
plans are for you. I love you so much! XXOO Mom</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Circumstances in life might temporarily or permanently change
and tempt us to feel useless ( I don’t like that word) . . . <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that is not truth. We are never useless! When
one door closes I believe another one opens. God tells us we have purpose. We
might need to re-purpose ourselves but we will always be able to contribute if
we choose to do so.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><b><i>Proverbs 19:21 Many are the plans in a man’s heart, </i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><b><i>but it
is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.</i></b></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Whether Mike was making balloon animals for the kids down
the hall in the hospital, juggling for kids at church or charity events,
dancing in competitions or choreographing for charity, or just riding around on
his bike with his brothers – Mike was purposeful with his time and talents.</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJk0RuxO1Yz7Ps_zH-xbWwzjbV57yyKROoEZNtLDofSyIlNzjLAOMbwiwv4cMSyZ6doVkCxztjoZ4IrIp9nJ7lznTblw7iJv7YLOi_zGnmuQSBvbnfYEeNa5_OjrWRi61hKmyWN5BjC7ZD/s1600/IMG_2388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJk0RuxO1Yz7Ps_zH-xbWwzjbV57yyKROoEZNtLDofSyIlNzjLAOMbwiwv4cMSyZ6doVkCxztjoZ4IrIp9nJ7lznTblw7iJv7YLOi_zGnmuQSBvbnfYEeNa5_OjrWRi61hKmyWN5BjC7ZD/s400/IMG_2388.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loved riding his bike with his brotha Dennis and other brothers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">When I went searching up in Mike’s room I guess you could
say I went searching for my purpose. I found it. What purpose did I have in
Mike’s life . . . during his final few years here on earth? So many times I
wished I could do more. I wished and prayed I could take away his pain. I would
have done anything to stop the progression of his disease. But my purpose came
in encouraging him. It came by helping him to hold up his arms . . . as did so
many of you. It was God’s purpose for me at that time. It was obviously
important to Mike too or he wouldn’t have kept that letter so close at hand
where he could see it every day.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><i><b>1 Thessalonians 5:11 Therefore encourage one another </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;"><i><b>and
build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. </b></i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">I encourage you to take the time to write these things down.
To write letters to the ones that you love. Tell them how much they mean to
you. Record it. If you find yourself down and out for a time maybe you are being given that time to write a letter to someone who needs the encouragement.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">It may be the only thing you have left when they are gone. And
trust me that will encourage and lift you up when you need it.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihq52yxbDfAnQeMHFj2eC6o4qtuApVrOIho7HW9MfmXOreIB-kuO-w_lJxsOuMwcYq1BFgWFco869aV5luV5T9qQ6GlTin1e1rW45Fj1Ka7NEp4TfXzEwXuSVR0WLEUb6JgrZggjN6s7Zo/s1600/DCP_7884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihq52yxbDfAnQeMHFj2eC6o4qtuApVrOIho7HW9MfmXOreIB-kuO-w_lJxsOuMwcYq1BFgWFco869aV5luV5T9qQ6GlTin1e1rW45Fj1Ka7NEp4TfXzEwXuSVR0WLEUb6JgrZggjN6s7Zo/s400/DCP_7884.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juggling flaming torches at the family reunion</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Should something happen to you, your words will encourage the
receiver forever. There is something special about the written word. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">I am thankful I took the time to write this letter to Mike
even though things were crazy busy the last couple years of his life. Finding
this helped me in my healing process. Almost as much as some of the things Mike
gave to me or wrote to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">I hope none of you ever have to walk in Mike’s shoes but I
know many of you will. A few of Mike’s friends have recently found themselves
in a hospital bed staring at the ceiling. I have been praying for each of you.
I am proud of the way you keep going. I hope that Mike’s story continues to be
an inspiration to you as it is to me.</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Each of you had a purpose in Mike's life and that purpose is complete. How will you re-purpose yourself?</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: large;">Blessings to you! Love, love, love.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 107%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 107%;"><b>Psalm 57:2 I cry out to God most high, to God, </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 107%;"><b>who fulfills his purpose for me. </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>WI State Championship 2007</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-31767637389901415022015-07-20T23:47:00.001-05:002015-07-21T00:07:44.144-05:00Honoring Mike's Legacy - A Big Hug<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCo8v3JoRe4XP_EMldBzk1x-FWUt1ALKLEDy5yAJDrMjtNPprLVIvX7rRwlnhN-OArSHixJhkVYcZO7FCa0TKj5gXP9pXYmSxPcWsvqhGX4ziD9ASvPgO72LCbCus8Ezpej7VE5vk_ucZ/s1600/IMG_2137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCo8v3JoRe4XP_EMldBzk1x-FWUt1ALKLEDy5yAJDrMjtNPprLVIvX7rRwlnhN-OArSHixJhkVYcZO7FCa0TKj5gXP9pXYmSxPcWsvqhGX4ziD9ASvPgO72LCbCus8Ezpej7VE5vk_ucZ/s640/IMG_2137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you Nugget and all the Top Hats for a special remembrance of Mike<br />
Click on any of the pictures to see them bigger :) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Saturday a bunch of Mike's brothers and friends got together to honor him by placing a stone at the Wisconsin Motorcycle Memorial in Sturgeon Bay.<br />
<br />
The group left the clubhouse and headed to the cemetery to pay their respects. But before they all left Peggy gave me the most awesome t-shirt that says "I MISS YOU" on the front. On the back it says:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
MISSING YOU</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think about you</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>always</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think about you still</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You have never been</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>forgotten</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And you never will</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hold you close</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
within my heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And there you will remain</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To walk with me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
throughout my life</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
. . . Until we meet again</div>
<br />
Still chokes me up to read those words. It isn't just the gift of the t-shirt. It is that she thought of me, then asked Katie what size to get, got it in PURPLE, and had it there for me on such a special day. It takes someone truly awesome to do something like that. Thank you Peggy Gray! You bless me!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmTZHL978dH9KsjKsIFQpm3gVheN-FTMiv6QEDolR_KWNYcMfEOTYqoG9VukSYaUP3qKAdDsNFB_68mqHdY-O6kqsKEH3z8nldHgGsZC_TWuzypoAxhf6v8V4_D4ibECzIBnPJAdJpXmU/s1600/riders3a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXmTZHL978dH9KsjKsIFQpm3gVheN-FTMiv6QEDolR_KWNYcMfEOTYqoG9VukSYaUP3qKAdDsNFB_68mqHdY-O6kqsKEH3z8nldHgGsZC_TWuzypoAxhf6v8V4_D4ibECzIBnPJAdJpXmU/s400/riders3a.jpg" width="222" /></a>If that wasn't enough Peggy had purple bandannas for anyone who didn't already have one. Some of the Lady Top Hats wore purple shirts and other purple accessories. They knew I haven't been around a lot so they came up and gave me a big hug and told me how much Mikey meant to them and how happy they were to be going on this ride. Even though there had been severe thunderstorms just hours before, the turnout was fantastic.<br />
<br />
Richie wanted to come along and meet Mike's friends. They were all so sweet to Mikey's little brother. Richie is getting over some of his shyness around them. Like Peggy says, "They don't bite! Unless you want them to! lol" Bear said the nicest prayer for everyone's safety and blessing. Nice to have an ordained minister in the group.<br />
<br />
We left the club in a procession and started the over 2 hour trip. Several of us were in cars behind the motorcycles. We stopped a couple of times along the way. I said to Richie, "Do you think you'll ever ride on a motorcycle again?"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0CslYjXQjaoRjYlkdG0YOqrwU8QeU6daoCQP32N9nYd2RjbVq1c4E_dO2x2Elaj8wz6naDFgOt8ooxZprzCzRl0RhDGWDwGJ6HqsSjrMej0NuZlq2ulxUXYtmxDezQyZPgwu3MygijTO/s1600/IMG_1189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0CslYjXQjaoRjYlkdG0YOqrwU8QeU6daoCQP32N9nYd2RjbVq1c4E_dO2x2Elaj8wz6naDFgOt8ooxZprzCzRl0RhDGWDwGJ6HqsSjrMej0NuZlq2ulxUXYtmxDezQyZPgwu3MygijTO/s400/IMG_1189.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May 2013 - I chose this picture so you can see Mike's patch. It was one of the<br />
first ones sewn onto his vest. I am my brothers keeper. <br />
Click on the pic to see it bigger.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
"YES . . . I want too!" came his quick reply. He had only gotten to ride with Mike one time. Mike made a point to pick Richie up on the last day of school and give him a ride home. Richie loved that short ride.<br />
<br />
We stopped at a gas station about 15 minutes from the cemetery. I thought to myself that it would be cool if Richie could get a short ride (he's only 15 and his arm still hasn't healed so I didn't want him to go very far). I asked around and Jenni said she would give him a ride but we didn't have an extra helmet. I called Big Mike and Kay said she had one he could use once we got to the cemetery. Katie and her dad cleaned up Mikey's grave from the storm that had just blown through.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BrwhE5n2QQ3AbiRKupqPC09IXAGQgs5C8avnbZHT3g6gMMn6rEt93ZBlgUACGQQyQiJoQ1_cPkG0QvCPMqIozAKeMPycemcQSHwSmP3FFxm1JQDFARCN90VUgG-zdZG0_jp5Kt3mqKS2/s1600/Cemetery+Bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3BrwhE5n2QQ3AbiRKupqPC09IXAGQgs5C8avnbZHT3g6gMMn6rEt93ZBlgUACGQQyQiJoQ1_cPkG0QvCPMqIozAKeMPycemcQSHwSmP3FFxm1JQDFARCN90VUgG-zdZG0_jp5Kt3mqKS2/s320/Cemetery+Bike.jpg" width="240" /></a>The brothers pulled Mikey's bike up to his grave. They silently all went up to pay their respects. I couldn't watch. I was last. It melted me down . . . Richie went with me . . .I told him - don't ever leave me . . .he shook his head. I gave Richie one of Mike's patches to keep. I was a puddle . . .and then one by one my other boys came and gave me big hugs. That helped a bunch.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTBgbgkljZnJ2nEf64FhVuYDxz9Vrp_hUyREI0V_GvjycNfB8hGpEu-ELaArDr1a8NaZ7umdQWRlbYB5xKVbVfyyTnH_JnbLt0dZpFjWwJ2toPEfcdPo613xnZglBsQA6EsHA43WdQG6c/s1600/Me+and+Rich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTBgbgkljZnJ2nEf64FhVuYDxz9Vrp_hUyREI0V_GvjycNfB8hGpEu-ELaArDr1a8NaZ7umdQWRlbYB5xKVbVfyyTnH_JnbLt0dZpFjWwJ2toPEfcdPo613xnZglBsQA6EsHA43WdQG6c/s320/Me+and+Rich.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then I froze up . . . I kinda talked to Richie about getting a ride and he was excited but the next leg of the ride would be an<b> hour</b>. I wasn't really ready for that and he's so shy and his arm . . . I looked around at all the bikes and the ones with the wrap around seats with handles were full with pretty Lady Top Hats :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN0nI2H3qkPbmEzwaopGU2ThYpUWW-qSJ6OIChKR2kTFIMsQ1XZvKhv6GNqgRtlp1NpWP8ZoloxbeyLCJ9vHijSLdFdFudOup5IHxq8jTanXKvCiaN__snlYRbZBwc2ZQCNZ8LTUhBYPd/s1600/IMG_1974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN0nI2H3qkPbmEzwaopGU2ThYpUWW-qSJ6OIChKR2kTFIMsQ1XZvKhv6GNqgRtlp1NpWP8ZoloxbeyLCJ9vHijSLdFdFudOup5IHxq8jTanXKvCiaN__snlYRbZBwc2ZQCNZ8LTUhBYPd/s400/IMG_1974.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Richie getting ready to ride :) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Gitter said he would be honored to give Magik's brother a ride - what a sweetheart. I was a little concerned about my Richie being so shy and super nervous about his arm. Uncle Don said, "I have a grandpa bike if he wants a ride. I won't even feel him back there." I looked over and saw exactly what I was looking for - still a little nervous but I could see the excitement in Richie's face. Richie knew Derek's dad, Uncle Don, from Mike's parties and he seemed relaxed and anxious to go. I said yes and he got the biggest smile on his face. Yes, Mikey's cousin Derek was there too. He is the cousin who put Mikey to bed until we see him again.<br />
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<br />
More folks joined the group (including Big Mike and Kay) and it was off to Sturgeon Bay.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, a couple of bikes broke down on the way but brothers look out for brothers and they were prepared with the trailer.<br />
<br />
It was a HOT day. It didn't matter to anyone. I didn't hear one complaint. Richard road in with the same big smile. Big M rode Mikey's bike into the Memorial park.<br />
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The Door Devils had the stone all ready. We were joined by some folks from Rite 'O' Ways and Outlaws too. Did I mention it was HOT? The group gathered and Radar spoke on behalf of the club.<br />
<br />
He had ridden with Mike the 45 minute drive when Mike chose to come home to die. I'm so glad Mike got to spend that time with his brother rather than with a stranger. Shannon hadn't shared information about their time together until Saturday.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-g_MQV5z_ZzGmTEYf3PxtH5ITlrijChGmzso8pvQVKeojjN6yj5jU387j-wa-NUGmWF1aDkO6jkGwajPAG0_vrJKtz-UCPzyLYQyxwzi_4AqjcoJTzx19F85FaxPZaYk1NmhtWaaDRfVw/s1600/mike+kneeling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-g_MQV5z_ZzGmTEYf3PxtH5ITlrijChGmzso8pvQVKeojjN6yj5jU387j-wa-NUGmWF1aDkO6jkGwajPAG0_vrJKtz-UCPzyLYQyxwzi_4AqjcoJTzx19F85FaxPZaYk1NmhtWaaDRfVw/s400/mike+kneeling.jpg" width="220" /></a>I was so touched. They were all there living out Mike's legacy of love. Joye shared how Magik wanted all of his brothers to have a patch like his. He had shared that with me also. One of his dreams that he wasn't able to fulfill but his brothers will for him and Joye will see that it gets on every vest.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEjk8bIqayf3f05zbBm1RtpRdieMG1aBiVYIhjsXPfbjk3ipJuWJQwGgTk3SpGCXeeOfjYZ3IfkzCI4B-XnJy3CxkOjl7EKxVCPet9ZDuZutwiqensEsaPkRditc_9y7ODqB1E0m492SK/s1600/Peggy+purple+ribbon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVEjk8bIqayf3f05zbBm1RtpRdieMG1aBiVYIhjsXPfbjk3ipJuWJQwGgTk3SpGCXeeOfjYZ3IfkzCI4B-XnJy3CxkOjl7EKxVCPet9ZDuZutwiqensEsaPkRditc_9y7ODqB1E0m492SK/s320/Peggy+purple+ribbon.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peggy placed a purple ribbon<br />
under the stone.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then it was time to place the stone. They let Mike's father Mike put it in place. He knelt down and placed it in the ground . . .and he couldn't get back up. And the boys came and gave him big hugs to help him. And they toasted their brother Magik and went over to visit Chopper Jim across the way. Becky came along to honor Mike. I am so touched.<br />
<br />
<br />
Katie and Richie bonded in a new way that day. I can't put it into words but I think it helped both of them heal a little more. I am grateful for that opportunity. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6yqGBjKyLpXljQ7la569stcZ9En4Q6BuPPoCxI_FPdE9GEe3moNzDGAlZZ5V5Not6DSX1ZlJk5EvRgtgj_ObuteXIKyjVgGPZex60nmL3iWKXy5GBPsEgCCvbF6veaKInFP7R42wdc5g/s1600/IMG_1961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6yqGBjKyLpXljQ7la569stcZ9En4Q6BuPPoCxI_FPdE9GEe3moNzDGAlZZ5V5Not6DSX1ZlJk5EvRgtgj_ObuteXIKyjVgGPZex60nmL3iWKXy5GBPsEgCCvbF6veaKInFP7R42wdc5g/s400/IMG_1961.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Richie talked to me on the way home for the first time about losing his brother. I think watching all the other brothers express their love and grief helped him to know it was OK to share his. I will forever be grateful that this group of men and women shared this with us. And as I was saying thanks Nancy said, "You're family now!" Thank you for your kind words Nancy. And happy birthday to you and lil bit today :)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb37ijOPRgq3NMM4uBijEL8Mzg1T4U4R_baD4b2ZYXGzZNdisHnERvTmthNL_b7Lm6hlxsfpKxBiWXYVqqB1ckwVAIZT6M7pzgpkT7oca_aEWyjWEOjbUgdIl3NLhNgIcEQfWc6mR7z_ha/s1600/Amy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb37ijOPRgq3NMM4uBijEL8Mzg1T4U4R_baD4b2ZYXGzZNdisHnERvTmthNL_b7Lm6hlxsfpKxBiWXYVqqB1ckwVAIZT6M7pzgpkT7oca_aEWyjWEOjbUgdIl3NLhNgIcEQfWc6mR7z_ha/s400/Amy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mikey's girlfriend Amy helping to place the stone.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know there will be other times for Richie. He is getting over his shyness and Gitter, Shine and others offered to give him another ride whenever his arm feels better. Thanks for being patient with him you guys.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZMkjM0T9JNnKg9kQ5s5xnyr97hmPD66Rr4X73pyWpv0hm_9cZ3hFSX37HD9vt6V2V9tZ69oBkKOzJUEQ4hSwgV88rSjjcGtgmL1OwtBNCMKAkaszlmLoOZrFR7HjRaZdIbbwnVZdSLGr/s1600/IMG_2003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZMkjM0T9JNnKg9kQ5s5xnyr97hmPD66Rr4X73pyWpv0hm_9cZ3hFSX37HD9vt6V2V9tZ69oBkKOzJUEQ4hSwgV88rSjjcGtgmL1OwtBNCMKAkaszlmLoOZrFR7HjRaZdIbbwnVZdSLGr/s400/IMG_2003.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie and Amy - and everyone went back to<br />
the clubhouse to celebrate the July birthdays<br />
including Mikey's :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We had a lot of fun remembering our special son, brother and friend. No one may ever look at this post . . .but years from now a younger little brother will find it.<br />
A little brother who was only 9 years old when his brother passed . . . who is hurting and confused.<br />
A little boy who won't go past his brother's room without the door being closed.<br />
But one day David will be stronger.<br />
One day he will come here because he will want to remember and learn more about his brother Mike . . .<br />
and his big brothers will still be around . . .<br />
and they will tell him how much Magik meant to them . . .<br />
and they will give him a ride . . .<br />
just like they did for Richie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">Then the LORD said to Cain, "Where is your brother Abel?" "I don't know," he replied. "Am I my brother's keeper?"</span></b></i><br />
<br />
And Mike is up in heaven saying to Cain: <span style="font-size: large;">Dude</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I AM my brothers keeper!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxvJxoS_PgmIHPvyu65NRYa_SWxilQcJT5kycAAssU0lk8quGoZzH78Dw9Ic0VKwdOTZS-42gaIsttMQNJ3esHTT_V8TzdKLhU22sM4dbNhchzMumsSzQRbp1D4H6o1KUIqK47lv0638q/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbxvJxoS_PgmIHPvyu65NRYa_SWxilQcJT5kycAAssU0lk8quGoZzH78Dw9Ic0VKwdOTZS-42gaIsttMQNJ3esHTT_V8TzdKLhU22sM4dbNhchzMumsSzQRbp1D4H6o1KUIqK47lv0638q/s400/IMG_2001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am one blessed momma - love, love, love</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Blessings to you!<br />
<br />Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-43530938862918252212015-07-12T14:09:00.001-05:002015-07-12T14:29:34.582-05:00The Most Loving Thing<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A long time ago, a woman who I respected very much said, “In
all situations, I ask myself, “What is the most loving thing I can do here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I think about that all the time. Between stimulus and
response we make a choice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I also really like this passage:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks. Matthew
12:34<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Recently, I have been taken back by the violence and unrest
on social media. Mike’s friend Paul articulated it very well this week as he
too contemplated leaving social media behind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I have a huge family and there are good things about social
media that I enjoy so I will stay. But I don’t have a problem blocking things
when necessary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is one thing that can bother me. That is when someone
gets upset about something that has happened – verbalizes it vehemently
and then turns around and does the very same thing to someone else. Hmmm. That one
gets me every time. This is where my choice comes. This is where I hear the
little voice in my ear saying, “What is the most loving thing you can do in
this situation?” I usually seek to understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I ask lots of questions. I always have. I enjoy hearing the
perspective of others. How will I ever truly understand if someone doesn’t tell
me their side? When I ask it is because I seek to understand. Not because I necessarily
disagree. Not because I want to be swayed to change how I may feel on the
subject. Sometimes I want more information because I haven’t really formed an
opinion. There are lots of reasons for my questions. I usually ask people I
feel will have some insight that I can go from. Or I wonder if they have thought
it completely through . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Unfortunately, often times my questions are met with pugnaciousness
(sorry, it is still the best word – argumentative, anger . . .). That makes my
heart sad. I can’t even ask to better understand without hearing things like, “Oh,
I’ll go there . . .” How do you even start a conversation with that? I made a
choice. I still wanted to understand – even from this person. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I appreciate hearing the perspective of others when spoken
in love and I am thankful there are folks out there who are willing to do that.
I’m sure it’s not the most comfortable thing, but I appreciate the genuine
effort. How will we ever understand each other if we don’t know where people
are coming from? Can we continue to speak – in love? (And please, don’t take my
lack of response to mean that I agree – wanting to understand does not
automatically mean I agree.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">What I do hope is that I will always have my right to be
heard, have my right to voice an opinion, even if it isn’t popular, and have my
right to disagree. I think many have fought for their right to be heard so I’m
hoping they will understand me wanting to keep mine. We are a great big country
and we are never going to agree on everything, but hopefully we will all agree
that we each have the right to voice our opinion – spoken in love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I don’t blog as much anymore. I am mocked for my blog by
some. I am hailed by others. I don’t think I deserve either. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This world is getting to be a tougher and tougher place to
live and I hope we can all find encouragement along the way. I have been told
that my blog encourages others. I am humbled. That is why I continue to put
myself out there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you are tempted to anger by reading anything I post on
social media or if you don’t like my curious nature – feel free to unfriend,
unfollow or delete what I share. We can agree to disagree. I will still think
of you fondly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you meet someone who is not responding in love . . .what
will your response be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I choose love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When you are tempted to anger think about your response - consider - What is the most loving thing I can do in this situation . . . </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is LOVE. 1 Corinthians 13:13 </b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9XhUsJD0w1M/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9XhUsJD0w1M?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-18601458198517468442015-05-16T13:10:00.000-05:002015-05-17T15:37:08.198-05:00Battles – CF Awareness – May 16<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOznstnUdpM7dAlWIt9LJPJ5ILBddp5XcHFOHsHkuQeTfVWXQtM-RCvMNP31iBvsfI_X1Qv8WG-f-mrlURyVvLzelDnwvId36UpFU_la9BfhL7utpE4vuaW9EpPQ-ZxwGZckz4UPgrBM9/s1600/20131225_191806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOznstnUdpM7dAlWIt9LJPJ5ILBddp5XcHFOHsHkuQeTfVWXQtM-RCvMNP31iBvsfI_X1Qv8WG-f-mrlURyVvLzelDnwvId36UpFU_la9BfhL7utpE4vuaW9EpPQ-ZxwGZckz4UPgrBM9/s400/20131225_191806.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a picture of Mike with his favorite nurse Erin. This a picture Mike <br />
would allow you to see. There is so much more that hasn't been shown. I share<br />
this now to help people understand what CF really is.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">May is national CF Awareness month. I've</span><span style="font-size: large;"> been pretty quiet
on the subject. It is hard for me to talk or type about it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSa6LqIfCkA1W0N1sbAeY-CmbO7TbxPPvP4xboTLEZYQbfULzEhuQiy3ZeRQvPH6V3Ysp_hRP9IbFumKj4l6LQCGfKMgl_gPLHUPqFOlg5hSzj_cv8UZCsl3MFsszDoPdguLeVeQeIPQ9z/s1600/IMG_6691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSa6LqIfCkA1W0N1sbAeY-CmbO7TbxPPvP4xboTLEZYQbfULzEhuQiy3ZeRQvPH6V3Ysp_hRP9IbFumKj4l6LQCGfKMgl_gPLHUPqFOlg5hSzj_cv8UZCsl3MFsszDoPdguLeVeQeIPQ9z/s400/IMG_6691.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daily treatments. Hours upon hours. This machine was a blessing and<br />
no more pounding on Mike's chest. It gave him independence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought there would
be a cure by now. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mike fought this battle hard for 31 years. There were many
battles. Each one with its own set of challenges. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He lost the ultimate battle –
but Mike won the war.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One year ago today Mike wrote this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnrtcu-H0ZDqGMRWN1_JawRuViq3F6ahB4xQcbOSASpgO70Zg5JzdU0FL-UZecYZQ50Ny5o3K0j-GsJDPsE9HWU7e8ArENdjlg-6tMcYgPZvMTwhBn3e1QZ26yTXQEFaa0v_fKeGKBYjA/s1600/Mike+hospital+092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnrtcu-H0ZDqGMRWN1_JawRuViq3F6ahB4xQcbOSASpgO70Zg5JzdU0FL-UZecYZQ50Ny5o3K0j-GsJDPsE9HWU7e8ArENdjlg-6tMcYgPZvMTwhBn3e1QZ26yTXQEFaa0v_fKeGKBYjA/s400/Mike+hospital+092.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A routine port placement became life threatening when<br />
his lung was nicked and collapsed. No more veins<br />
available on his right side. Would this port hold?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I've been thinking a lot about what to type. It's been 15 days since I was last in the hospital and now I'm on home ivs for a week. Then another 2 weeks in the hospital. Pain is all the time. On oxygen all day every day. I’m not
righting this as a poor me but to show people what they don't see when they
look at me. It's CF awareness month and if you are not aware u wouldn't know why
u should give. It’s to help some1 have a better breath. Please take the time to
look it up and help so many ppl. Thank u for reading this.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thinking back to the
suffering my son endured is almost unbearable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHF83WVEOKnlAmgVncGH5eg7FNaXzMMuYWp6tP5lfZ1dLfNsCimq9h58qBO86fWvgUnmsJZPCiiwoHpRmNFdMfbEAQy2jUljpZGsAvy0fYbcfCZ00UecMSXzE0eXPJwjo4HxQBNnjnxIt/s1600/IMG_0575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIHF83WVEOKnlAmgVncGH5eg7FNaXzMMuYWp6tP5lfZ1dLfNsCimq9h58qBO86fWvgUnmsJZPCiiwoHpRmNFdMfbEAQy2jUljpZGsAvy0fYbcfCZ00UecMSXzE0eXPJwjo4HxQBNnjnxIt/s320/IMG_0575.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">So many weeks spent in the hospital in isolation – so many
alone. Years of his life inside a hospital room. On a hospital bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Drugs, drugs and more drugs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Side effects that would make a chemo patient cringe. The knowledge that the only true end to it will be death. No
remission. No cure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Constant pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Constant annoying sinus drainage – sore throats,
uncontrolled coughing. Interrupted sleep. Chronic fatigue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi777yLueXBfisjgC0pVIsYR7FY59Rm4tM9bJL_2QhdVB0eU8N2E9tAAL_1et8mEgHOJTsiWq98nrrAzcHurIkSaAaBt6eWUTgtxcyi3njd23L-vbgBK96NUhw1__CDW3OEATofUMiqhzW-/s1600/Mike+hospital+094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi777yLueXBfisjgC0pVIsYR7FY59Rm4tM9bJL_2QhdVB0eU8N2E9tAAL_1et8mEgHOJTsiWq98nrrAzcHurIkSaAaBt6eWUTgtxcyi3njd23L-vbgBK96NUhw1__CDW3OEATofUMiqhzW-/s400/Mike+hospital+094.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken after his lung collapsed in 2007. Mike was at his healthiest. You<br />
can see how thin he was. Again, this was his BEST,</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Almost constant hunger, diarrhea, rectal prolapses (these are
excruciatingly painful). Feeding tubes and nausea from the formulas that are
meant to be the remedy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Testing – horrible, embarrassing, degrading, PAINFUL testing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Patience – enduring all the doctor and nurses who have their
agendas. Well-meaning but though to endure over and over and over again. Year
after year for 31 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCybibOWcX-pl9xbpztefbkan99HQz5vbuXLbunswZ2ZbNz7Rd8n3fCt_fTfJUbCW3Q5rOBk5HuvSPXlP1GDQ_DKMm2V-Z7SzM_TubedUqVOQFPslF6xxI-MEiaa3NRXrBIecyi8q8-ybT/s1600/20131215_003038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCybibOWcX-pl9xbpztefbkan99HQz5vbuXLbunswZ2ZbNz7Rd8n3fCt_fTfJUbCW3Q5rOBk5HuvSPXlP1GDQ_DKMm2V-Z7SzM_TubedUqVOQFPslF6xxI-MEiaa3NRXrBIecyi8q8-ybT/s400/20131215_003038.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">December 2013. Intubated. Only God's grace gave<br />
all of us the extra year with Mike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The constant threat of death and separation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Invasion of privacy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Lack of choices. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Judgement from others – well-meaning or not – some folks
feel it is there right to verbally articulate those judgments rather than keep
them to themselves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Insurance nightmares, keeping track of all the appointments.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Daily compliance with airway clearance that takes hours
everyday. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The GUILT when a treatment is missed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The constant psychological warfare – am I doing enough? Am I
getting sicker because I’m not doing more? Are people judging me? I’m so tired.
I just want to have some fun too. Does it all have to be about CF? How long
will I live? Is this my last hospitalization? Am I dying? If I make a new
friend am I going to have to explain all this? If I do try will they pass
judgement and be one more person I have to fight for understanding? Will this
bless me or is this just one more thing I will need to endure?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwVDg9Wpj4z7YMSZKb4qLxxYaKuUZjqsP36WamDPHTZzxOpn4_w-GceDhRRUiIwRBcEc_YXVkCbSrFxVTULDG3-3HD4Pzo6XydiTm4g68eboRirVFTfupiUhdbsj7LXTLYVQBxfOuAh-0/s1600/IMG_20140419_161547658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtwVDg9Wpj4z7YMSZKb4qLxxYaKuUZjqsP36WamDPHTZzxOpn4_w-GceDhRRUiIwRBcEc_YXVkCbSrFxVTULDG3-3HD4Pzo6XydiTm4g68eboRirVFTfupiUhdbsj7LXTLYVQBxfOuAh-0/s400/IMG_20140419_161547658.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The loneliness – no one understands what this chronic
illness is like. Even other CFers. Some don’t have it as bad as me and they
strut around like they are so much better. Like somehow they can control this
disease and it is only because I’m not doing something that I’m declining.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Financial pressure – there never seems to be enough money. Will insurance
drop me? I want to buy that part for my bike and the doctor says I need a new medicine.
Will CF take everything? How can I manage it all? How long will this continue?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">CF was a battle Mike fought every day of his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Like all of us he fought other battles and made choices. We
all have battles to face. Some are worthy and some are worthless. I’ll have
more to say about this another time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0YJwKTJUb0sYpuNoYByK7UebX9-YNHJ6rOXJSMQe7HgaS5fCL0yvMYN79xQgG4W19YhpgPLLgDg73ZxCXHmS0vWCz-Mx89MI26NTxIXbz55Rd_-nbC6pMPnrSs22yzgnEtZsx0QKZnlk/s1600/Christmas+2007a310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0YJwKTJUb0sYpuNoYByK7UebX9-YNHJ6rOXJSMQe7HgaS5fCL0yvMYN79xQgG4W19YhpgPLLgDg73ZxCXHmS0vWCz-Mx89MI26NTxIXbz55Rd_-nbC6pMPnrSs22yzgnEtZsx0QKZnlk/s400/Christmas+2007a310.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holidays and birthdays spent in the hospital.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He fought with everything in him. He made the best of a
really crappy situation. He lived his life fully with the circumstances he was
given. He picked himself up time and time again and pressed on. He had some
good friends and family that helped him on his journey. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I know, like my son Mike, I will win the war. I know this
because Jesus won the ultimate war for me. Because He lives I too will live
eternally and in that paradise I will be reunited with my son. This I believe
with all my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you are so blessed and can donate money to help this
fight against Cystic Fibrosis we would appreciate your support. It is a
terrible battle that so many children and young adults are fighting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you for considering to donate to CF. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As Mike said
above “It will help someone have a better breath.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bs7Jxn1IUzHmp5CtAbSsvC6AcWiyvF-NLilWPFbzsZ1zmIxwkqKTiI107gAlMsrx6VE3gq3YxRZwOzNf8wX_yOMcMS8IYWpAzoGmZ5FgIgKAsuJAzTk26MsGU9UBKMLhRh-zMpvNJfb3/s1600/IMG_0578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bs7Jxn1IUzHmp5CtAbSsvC6AcWiyvF-NLilWPFbzsZ1zmIxwkqKTiI107gAlMsrx6VE3gq3YxRZwOzNf8wX_yOMcMS8IYWpAzoGmZ5FgIgKAsuJAzTk26MsGU9UBKMLhRh-zMpvNJfb3/s400/IMG_0578.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diabetes - another side effect of CF. Daily monitoring and shots.<br />
I probably shouldn't have distracted him while he was doing this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Writing this post is so much more difficult than I thought
it would be. I guess that is why I have procrastinated this long. My family and
friends know how hard we fought this battle. We raised so much money and a cure
was not to be for Mike. I can hardly look at an article about CF right now. For
us it is too late. But please, there are so many beautiful people out there who
need our help. Please continue to support CF. <i><b>CF awareness was so important to
Mike</b></i>. He walked that fine line of not wanting pity but wanting people
to understand how horrific this disease can be. Please give. In honor of Mike
and all those fighting this battle. Thank you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To paraphrase a quote from Mike: </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">May is CF awareness month.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><strike>I have</strike> My son lived with CF and I am very aware. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes I wrote that correctly. My son lived with CF. You don't die with CF - you live with it. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Please help us spread CF awareness. Share this or a story you have. We won't stop until CF stands for CURE FOUND and no other human being has to live with this disease. To find out more about CF visit. <a href="http://www.cff.org/">www.cff.org</a> Thank you!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you. Love, love, love!</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-64397621136164892602015-05-11T21:00:00.003-05:002015-05-17T15:39:08.111-05:00Choices<span style="font-size: large;">We all make choices. Everyday there are choices. We all make them differently.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am very saddened by what happened this weekend. What makes me so sad?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wounds will heal. We are so blessed that Richie's and his friend's guardian angels protected them from severe injury. But the loss of innocence is saddening. It wasn't just Richie and his friend that lost this, it is each and every one of us. Everyone in our Community. Each of us will have to rethink the choices that we make and the choices we make for our children. I spoke to several people today. I could see each person was contemplating choices in their head. Maybe someone reading this is revisiting choices they have made in their small town. This kind of stuff only happens in "big" cities?? It makes me sad. We want our child to be responsible and it seems we have to monitor closer and closer and withdraw more choices because of the poor choices of others.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought about that - the choices of the three young people who did this. Did they have choices? I had to trace back the steps. I had to talk to Richie and his friend to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The report that came across the radio was inaccurate. I haven't seen the police report but I know officers are busy and they can't get every detail. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Choices. Were either of the perpetrators under duress? Does their life circumstance make them feel like they have no other choice? Were they bullied into this? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Richie keeps asking why. Senseless. There may never be an answer to why. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Just like these 3 young people, I am a sinner too. I have made some really poor choices. I made the worst of them when I was about their age. At times I convinced myself I had no other choice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Isaiah 30:21 Whether you turn to the right or to the left, </b></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">your ears will </span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;">hear a voice </span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;">behind you saying, </span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"This is the way, walk in it." </b></span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We can not judge the hearts of these three people. We can only judge their actions. I pray that they stop this violence and make better choices. Do I want them to be found? Do I want justice?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have not had to pay for every sin that I have committed. I did not get caught at all of them. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">What I have done is confess all of my sins. And I do know that each and every one of them - no matter how horrific - have been forgiven. I've never claimed to be perfect - just forgiven. That same forgiveness can cover over an assault. We forgive as Christ forgave us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">What I want most is for these three people to stop and never do this again. I want them to repent and feel the freedom that I have. I want them to learn the truth. However God works those things out is OK by me. I don't need to know how it is done. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Many people are once again praying us through this unfortunate situation. Thank you so much. Richard and his friend appreciate the prayers and support. I know it is difficult but please pray for these young people too. Only God can change a heart. I pray God uses this experience to draw them closer to Him. I pray that if they feel like they have no choice that they listen to that voice in their ears telling them which way to go. I sure wish I would have listened more closely to that voice when I was their age. </span><span style="font-size: large;">There is always help. Reach out and get help.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I pray that the knowledge of this awful experience my son had to endure helps someone else to stay safe. I pray we all make good choices. I pray that sharing this on social media has not caused any consternation for anyone. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Ezekiel 33:6 "If the watchman sees the sword coming </i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>and does not blow the trumpet to warn the people and </i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>the sword comes and takes the life of one of them, </i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>that man will be taken away because of his sin, but </i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I will hold the watchman accountable for his blood."</i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">New choices I will make? Tell my children more about the bad out there that they need to be aware of. Once they start out on their bike or a walk they need to continue until their destination. No stopping or dallying (They had stopped to call home and tell us they were on their way.) A child can help someone else by getting them help. They can call 911. I will be more aware of my surroundings and point that out to my kids. We will rethink things and make new choices as we need to. I will continue to encourage others and not live in fear. I will continue to TRUST HIM.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There is only one answer to end senseless, random acts of violence and that is love. Pastor Parsons articulated it perfectly this past Sunday. I share it with you below.</span><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/127429984" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am still sad but God can heal that too. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In case you had lost any faith in community, my family and I are receiving tremendous support once again. Richie's dentist Dr. Botsford got in touch with us to say he would check on Richie's oral health (he got his mouth pretty banged up by getting hit with braces on.) Erin the wonderful woman who saw the whole thing and contacted the police has also contacted me. God bless these people in our community you give us all hope. Fond du Lac will stand strong - together.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Surely it is God who saves me, I will trust in him and</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>not be afraid. For the Lord is my stronghold and </b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>my sure defense and he will be my Savior. Amen</b></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium; text-align: start;">Blessings to you! <b>Love, love, love</b>.</span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-80950087125737527932015-05-10T01:20:00.001-05:002015-05-10T01:22:35.430-05:00Mother's Day 2015<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCU95xDK204gZyuewu7pgFZ_lW-GTcGHwq8MmWXuj-ni8bB0WWB6aVdZ5_gK7RXgVF869jc5WZ9AJPPESUL5fj8v3IGElQx8f4MgPw7YFkCM88NgW4gy9BVHrHa_XiZeqxkCMwhvwWWK-S/s1600/100_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCU95xDK204gZyuewu7pgFZ_lW-GTcGHwq8MmWXuj-ni8bB0WWB6aVdZ5_gK7RXgVF869jc5WZ9AJPPESUL5fj8v3IGElQx8f4MgPw7YFkCM88NgW4gy9BVHrHa_XiZeqxkCMwhvwWWK-S/s400/100_0014.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the only year I actually took a picture of us AT the "c" church</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Every year my kids ask me what I would like for Mother’s Day
and every year I give the same reply. The other day Katie asked me and I just
looked at her and when she looked up to see why I hadn’t answered I said, “Katie,
what do I always want for Mother’s Day?” And with a big smile she said, “I
know. All your kids in church with you.”</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">At work on Friday, many folks wished me and all the other
moms a Happy Mother’s Day weekend as we left for the day. I work with some
special people! As I was driving home I thought about my yearly request. And
for a brief moment I thought, wow, I won’t get my wish this year. But as I
looked up at the beautiful sky and thought about my Mikey up there in heaven I
remembered that there are two churches. There is the “church” or small c church
as Pastor Wagenknecht used to say and the capital C “Church.” The small c church
he referred to is the earthly church we belong to here that has 4 walls and a
ceiling. The capital C Church is the Church triumphant which includes all
believers here and in the Church in heaven. So for Mother’s Day I will continue
to get my wish – all my children with me at CHURCH! I am one blessed momma
indeed.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNY5jFrp7GNO5AGO8gOASdrZJElesClmNOR6vtE_xf9we9HQ1XORP8WH5sZilzkM0ZjGKuR1itp36OYxWWn6alVUW5P1ofhzwVwwMTtGjXHFaQOmf9GFeMHKs5FsTBbhj1rTzg84CUHlV/s1600/IMG_20150509_212646138_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNY5jFrp7GNO5AGO8gOASdrZJElesClmNOR6vtE_xf9we9HQ1XORP8WH5sZilzkM0ZjGKuR1itp36OYxWWn6alVUW5P1ofhzwVwwMTtGjXHFaQOmf9GFeMHKs5FsTBbhj1rTzg84CUHlV/s400/IMG_20150509_212646138_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was a gift from Mike two years ago.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Everyone has a mother so I wish you all a blessed Mother’s
Day as you celebrate this holiday in your own special way. I am very blessed to
still have my mother here. Her example will always be a blessing to me. For
those of you who have had to say goodbye to a mother I pray you find peace
through the knowledge of a blessed reunion one day. And for those women who
yearn to become mothers and wait for God’s direction in their lives, may you
also find peace in God’s perfect plan for your life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To my fellow grieving mothers who have lost a child or
children I pray God’s presence in your life. The pain you experience is one
only God can heal. I know each journey will be different but I know the only
way to peace is through Him. I pray that you will find support and community to
help you through long days. I pray that as we struggle, stumble and fall that
people will be patient with us. May we forgive others and they forgive us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_y8ekYdWhslJYjDpL-Onq8kFU2L00r87uHFizFkI7VO4ohfWNkd6P-yCBPTS89m-sTL3pN0JDVe73DEsTjw8jnGixyHz1tP6mrzAUH5yZXKlXRcS5UPWP7IXe0jBymgGX_NwXDI3c8E8/s1600/Mother's%2Bday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_y8ekYdWhslJYjDpL-Onq8kFU2L00r87uHFizFkI7VO4ohfWNkd6P-yCBPTS89m-sTL3pN0JDVe73DEsTjw8jnGixyHz1tP6mrzAUH5yZXKlXRcS5UPWP7IXe0jBymgGX_NwXDI3c8E8/s400/Mother's%2Bday.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I have to admit it was another trying week. How can things
be so cloudy and then go so clear? All I know is that God is so good. He
blesses us with just the right people to help us along our path. And there is
ALWAYS forgiveness. Thank you God for forgiveness.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As I finished this post the phone rang. It was my son
Richie. He called to tell me that as he was walking home with his friend a car
pulled up and he was attacked. Richie received two blows to the face and head
and then kicked after he was down on the ground. Right here in our town. A couple
blocks from the Lutheran High School he attends. Thank you God for keeping him
safe. God help those troubled young men. This should not be happening. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Unprovoked – random . . . senseless. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">My son is gentle and
respectful and still has a broken arm that he can’t use much. No words. So
thankful God is much bigger than these young men. These young people are someone’s
children. Are they celebrating Mother’s Day today? I hope so . . . Father forgive them . . . and help us to also.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Praying for peace. Blessings to you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!</b></span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-57165875989230576722015-05-03T22:43:00.001-05:002015-05-04T22:05:35.848-05:00I get by with a little help from "his" friends . . .<span style="font-size: large;">I received this email last Wednesday - I didn't see it until Saturday (yesterday):</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihoKAotMn9H0a2PGBVbbLh-SeJK91pXkYZ_YtIrpRQIOwHIuUCNQbsleLg57fsLbUysY2GM7s0QmRRCHFR1yeFpssvDzNio_GUJyaWyeEDv6ld2Es9L7EZqy52tSWeN5SOFgOb4eEpa886/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihoKAotMn9H0a2PGBVbbLh-SeJK91pXkYZ_YtIrpRQIOwHIuUCNQbsleLg57fsLbUysY2GM7s0QmRRCHFR1yeFpssvDzNio_GUJyaWyeEDv6ld2Es9L7EZqy52tSWeN5SOFgOb4eEpa886/s1600/image.jpeg" width="298" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">A while back I sent you the email below. But I
wanted to update. Our baby is now almost 3 months old and in honor of our good
friend, we made his middle name <b>Michael</b>.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Attached was this beautiful picture:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">His name is Connor Michael B</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was born on February 9, 2015</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He weighed in at 8lbs 4 oz.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">What a cutie he is!! Don't you just want to mug on those cheeks!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sabrina attached her original email which I don't remember ever seeing. She had sent it to me on the day Mike passed away and I guess I just lost track with all that was going on. It follows:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I am so sorry for your loss. It
should never be that a mother has to bury her child & as a mother of 2 I
can only imagine your pain and grief.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">My husband met Mike about 7
years ago because they both had bikes and would ride together. I went to the
gas station when Mike and my husband were there and we all became friends. That
night Mike, a friend of mine, and I hung out together and stayed up late
talking. I asked him "So why doesn't Matt have a girlfriend" and Mike
said, "He just hasn't met the right girl yet, but you are probably
it!" ... Mike was full of it because Matt actually did have a girlfriend
haha. But Mike was right, when Matt hung out with me the next time he said
"I actually did have a girlfriend, I went home and broke up with her after
I met you." If it wasn't for Mike saying what he did I probably wouldn't
have hung out with Matt again. And if it wasn't for Mike I wouldn't have married
Matt.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Mike was the best of friends.
He has enough health problems of his own that he didn't bring drama or problems
into his friendship with his friend. He never once was rude or uncaring towards
us. He was always there when we needed him, always listened, and always cared.
We even had him be part of our wedding party. We loved him like a brother, he
was always good to us. And for that I wanted you to know that I am pregnant and
due in February and my husband decided that we wanted to make our son's middle
name Michael after your son. We'd like to have a piece of him live on.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">You did an amazing job raising Mike. You must have been a
wonderful mother to raise such an incredibly kind and loving son. And I am so
utterly sorry for your loss, but I do thank you for bringing a wonderful person
into our life even if it was only for a few years. Thank you. Thank you very
much.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
I just wanted you to know that you are in my thoughts and my prayers.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">************************************</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Attached to the email was this picture:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6CObAm4w4W5b4LQm_eztTM6WYE5uPE7u3RPtqDByuQGvqwa0oIoZ7Bf2RrNA-XgNOC6-nlCA0rm-e4pgw-rGzRJr70K96ToC_fRh88bq4G68uWxG00u3bvuyRL4zigl0200ObgDyh2xV/s1600/IMG8145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6CObAm4w4W5b4LQm_eztTM6WYE5uPE7u3RPtqDByuQGvqwa0oIoZ7Bf2RrNA-XgNOC6-nlCA0rm-e4pgw-rGzRJr70K96ToC_fRh88bq4G68uWxG00u3bvuyRL4zigl0200ObgDyh2xV/s1600/IMG8145.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sabrina and Matt's wedding in May of 2009</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As I was holding these printed pictures and emails in my hand choking back the tears of sadness and joy and bewilderment and pride - the house started to rumble and it sounded like the flight for life was coming toward the hospital down the street but I knew it was my boys . . .</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Shine had something to show me . . .</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwKyjtEp93171cXxnp21YcGFkWURAeE-Kr2h34gOUQtNqbFKTvSh1V4zyveLLWkBe_rv6yRmkLAAF6mjWV5yEfVUeDofcyHctFq0q9Jo_m15OhBwTXkp8DtyX_i2Wz7-XsTFgIwY5_oZM/s1600/IMG_0978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMwKyjtEp93171cXxnp21YcGFkWURAeE-Kr2h34gOUQtNqbFKTvSh1V4zyveLLWkBe_rv6yRmkLAAF6mjWV5yEfVUeDofcyHctFq0q9Jo_m15OhBwTXkp8DtyX_i2Wz7-XsTFgIwY5_oZM/s1600/IMG_0978.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzjsqgD8lBlRzPGbbc7pkObjavbdj9qNWAcpjTHO6g9etmYfoUpH_FFo33QdmAYc7z9td1EFwLkmICGm3kMOCptyxU2uJ9lm54kQn_pgGPS5a41iVtqRwO4O5z0oLSTN1QS2mh_cUWt7k/s1600/IMG_0981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwzjsqgD8lBlRzPGbbc7pkObjavbdj9qNWAcpjTHO6g9etmYfoUpH_FFo33QdmAYc7z9td1EFwLkmICGm3kMOCptyxU2uJ9lm54kQn_pgGPS5a41iVtqRwO4O5z0oLSTN1QS2mh_cUWt7k/s1600/IMG_0981.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">Shine told me that Mike meant a lot to him and had touched his life. He wanted to have a piece of Mike with him always so he had RIP MAGIK painted on his bike. I am so touched that people remember my son in such special ways. Each person has their own story to tell and it is always truly <strike>magic</strike> Magik. . . :)</span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqCO808nH-mwRgdJ6ozL4rHbENvnd2knX_b0u1QAtoWoXaSFerOgdTeKwCYftOht5zLlWHb_B1Hm1FLzo94d0L7_2-uJwfoSaFc0kOKwsWJnLQoQudglGpM_fDaDPvWbzuYJvMp11Bx66/s1600/IMG_0985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqCO808nH-mwRgdJ6ozL4rHbENvnd2knX_b0u1QAtoWoXaSFerOgdTeKwCYftOht5zLlWHb_B1Hm1FLzo94d0L7_2-uJwfoSaFc0kOKwsWJnLQoQudglGpM_fDaDPvWbzuYJvMp11Bx66/s1600/IMG_0985.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The boys know it is important to me that Mike's little brothers get to hear these stories. They all shook Richie's hand and then gave me a hug and were off to a Cancer ride. </span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoSH6HaZW3xHKogMnLThakDVYChnj70CTJJseOOs8zt75vCnRaocq0RxGkC6PPoVZypI8ThJ7NHwrM_D9MRU51oFNh7P3hH6qmHoGPdQpP-wcSHRG96db9z6VMxkG5vRSexLq4EwGw1zb/s1600/IMG_0990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWoSH6HaZW3xHKogMnLThakDVYChnj70CTJJseOOs8zt75vCnRaocq0RxGkC6PPoVZypI8ThJ7NHwrM_D9MRU51oFNh7P3hH6qmHoGPdQpP-wcSHRG96db9z6VMxkG5vRSexLq4EwGw1zb/s1600/IMG_0990.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see in my hand I am still holding Sabrina's email . . .</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlBBfVOJCyB7zC8k7vW9LQSdbshKpMkyQc2EoBZ8I73CpCvTjrHLrVU0vcAfX9YlVt2IMJx65lXrW-OyUEdPauAIeQVX5FnfatOph2ZSqorwEoNcLjx2UKx8GnYyHbJ1cgWDdQMxY2X4F/s1600/Pain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxlBBfVOJCyB7zC8k7vW9LQSdbshKpMkyQc2EoBZ8I73CpCvTjrHLrVU0vcAfX9YlVt2IMJx65lXrW-OyUEdPauAIeQVX5FnfatOph2ZSqorwEoNcLjx2UKx8GnYyHbJ1cgWDdQMxY2X4F/s1600/Pain.jpg" width="223" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">It was a particularly tough week in that through judgmental words, I was thrust back into unwanted memories of some very challenging decisions I had to make as a mother of a special needs child and normal kids. They weren't easy decisions to make the first go around and to go back and revisit them was not healthy. It only leads to pain and despair. That was not something Mikey was fond of. So much so that he had it tattooed on his body. Julie shared these pics and it reminded me that suffering is optional!</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-rDo99IzuCsnV4NnvujY0uFz782AeTWZjGVymb9mkEZg5qepe0_Foe4MWfsBKowMDa0PC6UDIfbTjfFZNv9S0M5AU-wm6VZmaPtSNQ2BahD-fQwnelH8bX4TSyrClAZWh7VHfdD9igtC/s1600/Suffering.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-rDo99IzuCsnV4NnvujY0uFz782AeTWZjGVymb9mkEZg5qepe0_Foe4MWfsBKowMDa0PC6UDIfbTjfFZNv9S0M5AU-wm6VZmaPtSNQ2BahD-fQwnelH8bX4TSyrClAZWh7VHfdD9igtC/s1600/Suffering.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This, along with some really awesome counsel from Christian friends, helped me through another rough patch.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have done lots of things wrong in parenting these 4 blessings God has given me. This I know for sure. But, according to Sabrina and others, I guess I must have done a few things right also. Katie assured me by saying, "Mom, you weren't just a good mom to Mikey. You were a good mom to all of us!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">God is so good. Thank you to all Mike's friends who continue to share their pieces of Mike with me. Bless each of you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">1 Peter 1:6-7 In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you! Love, love, love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. Please don't judge parents of children with special needs. I pray you never know what it is like to walk in our shoes. Reach out and lend them a hand. Love it forward! Peace.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-37398579300824198342015-04-16T23:16:00.000-05:002015-04-17T06:59:21.204-05:00Who I Am - by Mike<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Disclaimer: Mike’s learning disabilities made it hard for him to
sequence. Extremely hard. So when you read his writings please don’t think,
well, he forgot me when he said that. Mike would talk about whatever he was
thinking about at the time. Not as an exclusion of other things – not always in
a particular order of priority. When I am asked a question I give it deep
thought. Too much thought most of the time. It is who I am. Just like that, so
it was for Mike only without the sequencing. Enough said. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-QeuTkv4Db77cQmnPEoQM4yffAM3NU_ys7k1Cxpt7wdSWRinOH_rq15_f0GOBVMZv7oFqymNvrEFa3HUHmxNeBbCGBDOhTeaue-9JsIUeb3W_LgZ7p-TRtAUdrHWTuWUbSigk02lL8SMD/s1600/IMG_0555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-QeuTkv4Db77cQmnPEoQM4yffAM3NU_ys7k1Cxpt7wdSWRinOH_rq15_f0GOBVMZv7oFqymNvrEFa3HUHmxNeBbCGBDOhTeaue-9JsIUeb3W_LgZ7p-TRtAUdrHWTuWUbSigk02lL8SMD/s1600/IMG_0555.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Finding the better side of things - Mike 2012</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mike and I spent a lot of time together in the hospital. Things were
hectic while he was inpatient. But I would try and do things to change it up
while he was there. When he was a kid he had lots of homework but there would
always be time to throw balls in the hallway or catch a movie or think up a
shenanigan or two to play on the nurses. God bless those nurses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1QYDxtvEAt-yGbLHCBFsULCWoQxWN2INLf7ufJx0arIyN_R8Ppsmma4A6o2sXlhR1v45zf4_kIM138sXCDTVFswGlaHvcjMBjy-12WzH7R9-9cji3jYHzVnBgJUChisQca4xz-s6xv2c/s1600/IMG_8137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1QYDxtvEAt-yGbLHCBFsULCWoQxWN2INLf7ufJx0arIyN_R8Ppsmma4A6o2sXlhR1v45zf4_kIM138sXCDTVFswGlaHvcjMBjy-12WzH7R9-9cji3jYHzVnBgJUChisQca4xz-s6xv2c/s1600/IMG_8137.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I am a good dancer - Mike 2012</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I took a scrapbook class that I thought would be fun to do with each of
my children. I told Mike he was going to be first and be my guinea pig. He
reluctantly agreed. He didn’t want to write so I would have to do that for him
but he would dictate. There was a series of questions. Each of us would write
our answers. Then I would scrapbook them and we would be able to see how alike
and different we are/were. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<u><span style="font-size: large;">Who I am Today <o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mike Van Deurzen 2012<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’m a 29 year old CF survivor. I’m a brother to two younger blood
brothers, half-brothers and I’m a brother to brothers in a motorcycle club Top
Hats. I am trying to be an inspiration to other people through my journey with
CF. I dance, play guitar and prospect. I try to do more than people expect of
me. Who I am today lives within the day after facing death. I realize how
precious the people in my life are and what a gift it is to have them and have
this day to <u>live</u>! I appreciate people and life. I appreciate the time
God has given me. I didn't plan for my future because I didn't think I would
have one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<u><span style="font-size: large;">This is what I’m good at<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am good at trying to find the better side of things when things don’t
look so good. I’m good at guitar and riding my motorcycle and dancing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Notes said he is a loyal friend, good at reading people, trusting and
disciplined - stuff we never finished writing about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We never finished this exercise . . .there were several other questions
that were left unanswered. I never answered mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxGeS_p4i00qQ3R46hLhQsIIyWMmCcoAHn1RbKup7vZul56eGLlsjNPLbpcYxtoTnrsmupc1bTYiEA1zGNF64KR-saUChNQPboKD93-oTWZsxe22gP1_YiuVTYGrfT5fwcaTP8WEs63NF/s1600/IMG_7540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxGeS_p4i00qQ3R46hLhQsIIyWMmCcoAHn1RbKup7vZul56eGLlsjNPLbpcYxtoTnrsmupc1bTYiEA1zGNF64KR-saUChNQPboKD93-oTWZsxe22gP1_YiuVTYGrfT5fwcaTP8WEs63NF/s1600/IMG_7540.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am going through Mike’s stuff and I am finding precious nuggets like
this one. It reminds me what a wonderful son I had. He was a good person. I am
blessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We are thinking about selling this great big house. It suited our needs
perfectly when we had our blended family. But Katie moved out and Mike is gone
so we don’t need this big huge house any longer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As I drove home from work today this thought ran across my mind . . . “I
wonder if God will bless us with a buyer for our house so we can move . . .”
Then I stopped and corrected myself, “I wonder HOW God will bless us through
this process? Will we get a buyer for our house and move to a new home or will
we be blessed to stay here for a few more years . . .?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgbGzFeX557Dk__QheR19lfjBTixtXon9TRvErPjHMGhhlFjShHflkz92EDM45y-pKwxqDdGWQOJVPNz4o-pTx-z3UdI4u72nA5qCCQpRBpa3dpF22UlW1bUw3H5YLVZHMoKzlLMCeSau/s1600/IMG_7615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgbGzFeX557Dk__QheR19lfjBTixtXon9TRvErPjHMGhhlFjShHflkz92EDM45y-pKwxqDdGWQOJVPNz4o-pTx-z3UdI4u72nA5qCCQpRBpa3dpF22UlW1bUw3H5YLVZHMoKzlLMCeSau/s1600/IMG_7615.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I play guitar Mike 2012</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I
am good at trying to find the </span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">better side </span></i><i><span style="font-size: large;">of things when things </span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">don’t look so
good. Mike 2012</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever God’s plan is, it is to bless us. If there is one thing I have
learned it is that. God uses everything he allows to happen in our lives to
bless us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<u><span style="font-size: large;">Who I am Today<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Gina Thiesfeldt 2015<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am a Christian, a wife and a mother. I am a stronger Christian,
a more loving wife and a better mother because of that young man and his influence
on my life and the way God blessed me through him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Missing me some Mike . . .as Katie would say…..missing me some Mike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It is very difficult to go through all of his stuff and clean out his
room. I was upstairs the other day taking pictures of an almost empty room for
the real estate ad. Camera in hand I was pretty somber . . and then I heard the
pipes and I ran. I got all the way to the porch and waved like a crazy lady. My
boys had stopped at the corner, just like I asked them too. . .they waited for
me and waved and then off they went. It took my somber moment and turned it
around. That’s what we can do for each other – lift each other up. That is
where the hole in our hearts that Mike left seeps out and blesses others. Well,
you know me, I wasn’t going to let an opportunity like that pass me by with a
camera in my hand. . . of course I snapped a picture.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhGtvDYtHNz_HCiEIXHG7wUm7Og_V8pfsT3s93p3B09jP-0G4ycO1UD-wqPRm4kpE5QV-man_Lfo4iZBJvVZnDWGTBBB8TdRtve4hyphenhyphendC3GVMrQNorkBu9iBbKV3nUsmXrOq6hh9luLouy/s1600/Boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhGtvDYtHNz_HCiEIXHG7wUm7Og_V8pfsT3s93p3B09jP-0G4ycO1UD-wqPRm4kpE5QV-man_Lfo4iZBJvVZnDWGTBBB8TdRtve4hyphenhyphendC3GVMrQNorkBu9iBbKV3nUsmXrOq6hh9luLouy/s1600/Boys.jpg" height="488" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I
try to do more than people expect of me. Mike VanDeurzen 2012<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Last night Amy and I were up on the third floor going through Mike's stuff and Art drove by - vroommm.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight I was in Mike's room again and s</span><span style="font-size: large;">omeone drove past – a couple. This time I only made it to the window at the top of the stairs but I saw the vest! Coincidence? Karma? No - blessing. God gives me exactly what I need to have peace. Sometimes that is in memories . . .sometimes in writings that I find and sometimes by a bunch of bikers ;) . . .but always through HIM.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope whatever you are facing that you get to see the blessings God is
sending with the trials. If you can’t see them then I pray you can trust Him.
Trust that He is working this out for your good . . .just like he promised.
There is nothing bigger than Him – not even CF. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you. Love, Love, LOVE!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-90275631121232289702015-04-09T21:32:00.000-05:002015-04-09T21:32:00.682-05:00The Difficult - the hole in my heart<div class="MsoNormal">
I think of the analogy of the tree firmly planted will take
root and bear abundant fruit. Mike was one of those trees in my orchard (and
boy did he bear abundant fruit). When he left my life, roots and all, it left a
big gaping hole in my heart and in my life. The tears I shed created mud
slides that slowly began to fill the hole. God draws near to the broken hearted,
indeed. (Psalm 34:18) I realized quickly I would need to fill in as much of
that hole as possible. The hole will never be completely filled. I am hopeful that by filling as much as I can then at least
when I wander over it I won’t fall in so deeply that I won't be able to climb back out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are things that are more difficult than others. There
are triggers that I am learning to stay away from. There are triggers I’m
learning that I just need to hold on to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Things that
have been difficult.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grocery shopping is a trigger. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Going to the grocery store and not buying all the things
Mike loved. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CFers have an enormous appetite. To help them us Momsters will
tantalize with all their favorite foods when they don’t feel well. We have
lists of ingredients that go into their favorite meals - special snacks and the
like. Food is a big part of any life but to a CFer it is a HUGE deal. Going to
the store is still hard. I am thankful Paul does most of the shopping. I have the most fantastic hubby on the planet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cooking – for most of the reasons stated above - I am
ashamed to say - I have cooked very little since Mike passed away. He was good in the kitchen and would help me a great deal. It makes me miss him. I am
thankful for all the food people brought while Mike was on hospice. It was a blessing to our family. I’m working on this . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Scrapbooking and pictures. They were my distraction as CF
got really ugly these last 10 years. Now I want little to nothing to do with
any of it. Does anyone have a match . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His smell. It only took a couple of weeks and the smell of
Mike was gone. Katie noticed it first. It made us both very sad. We searched,
but it was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Basically anything that I felt deprived of while Mike was
alive and CF was ravishing our lives, I have a hard time with now. It brings up
this emotion that is hard to explain. Some guilt, some sorrow . . .I’m hoping
one day I can articulate it. So just taking the time to put a dress on for
Easter brought up that feeling. I haven’t gotten dressed up for church, let
alone Easter, for years. Like last year for instance, Mike was in the hospital.
I threw something on so I could leave right away and go see him. So having time
to do that now, I guess, is a reminder I have time but I don’t have Mike.
Maybe it doesn't make any sense to others. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another example is David’s kitty. I told him he could have a
kitty when they found a cure for CF. We tried to give him a cat but Mike felt
it was making his symptoms worse. Now we have a kitty but we don’t have Mike. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a very big house. I got really far behind with everything as I made all
the trips back and forth to Madison and tended to all the demands of CF. Now I’m finally
getting time to clean up and sort through things. I have to fight the sick
feeling in my stomach – because I have time to do this – means I don’t have
Mike. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Stress. This could be an entire blog post all on its own. I can't handle a lot of stress. Physical, emotional, or mental. I have to be very careful. Even getting too excited about something can set me back. I don't want to be numb but I do want to be careful. Panic attacks can be a side effect of trauma. I can feel them. I know the tempter would love to take away my peace and send me into despair. But I will fight him. I will fight that urge to numb. Numbing is yet a whole other blog post! I can't remove stress from my life but I can learn to control my reactions to it. I'm sure I'll be talking more about that in the future.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Things I can’t let go of yet.</b></span> Things I need to continue to
stage to be OK.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A coat in the closet. I keep one of his coats in the front
closet. For some reason it brings me peace when I open the closet door to grab
my coat and I see his. I made sure his father has one for his closet too. Katie
has one also.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His enzymes. As the hospice nurse was packing up she offered
to take Mike’s meds. I think she is required to take all of the drugs hospice
supplies. I just looked at her like . . .What? You’re kidding right? I was
tired and that would be a big job but with little kids in the house I thought
well, this will help me out. Within a couple of minutes we had produced a
garbage bag full of drugs. She looked stunned and said, “Oh, now I see . . .”
Someone had brought one of Mike’s big bottles of enzymes and I grabbed it back
and said, "NO!" Mikey couldn't eat without them. Enzymes have been in my home every
day for 31 years. I could not let go of every bottle. Nope, not yet. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His vest and machines. I am hoping someone will help me out
with this. I can’t throw away two machines that helped keep my son alive for
years and cost thousands of dollars. I CAN NOT do it. I've asked the hospital
if someone needs them and no luck. I was hoping another CFer would want them so
they could keep one at a college dorm or summer home and not have to lug one
back and forth but no luck. I’m hoping someone will come and take them and I
never know what happens to them. . . . . . . . <b><span style="font-size: large;">Please?</span></b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Things I
have to fight</span></b><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to fight the urge to focus on the negative. Between
stimulus and response we have a choice. By the grace of God and through the
prayer and support of many I am thankful that most of the time the positive
wins. <o:p></o:p>And (said gently and with sensitivity to those also on this path) I can choose not to let it consume all of my thoughts. One thing I realized right away is that when I am filled with gratitude there isn't as much room for pain. When I focus on grace I lose sight of grief.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My time of grace did not end, Mike’s did. God still has
plans he wants me to fulfill before my time of grace is over. I need to figure out what those are and press
on toward the goal. Yes, I can think about the fact that Mike is not here, that I
will never get to see or talk to him again as long as I live. Or I can think
about how blessed I was to have been given 31 years with him. Blessed to have
had all the blessings he and CF brought into my life. There is a quote I love, that says:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>When we appreciate what we have, we honor what others have lost.</b> </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
I still have my health and God blessed me with other children and even a grandchild. How can I return those gifts unopened and unappreciated. I press on. I miss my Mike and all that he
brought into my life. One thing I know for sure:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You don't have to look for <i>trouble, pain, sorrow or difficulty</i>. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They are right there when you are NOT practicing gratitude. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They are there when you are NOT looking at the blessings in your life. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They are right there when you are NOT looking for beauty.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>They <span style="font-size: large;"><i>are</i></span> the <i>absence</i> of <span style="font-size: large;">grace</span>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">When I am living my life with grateful </span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">intention </span></i></b><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I am not in
pain. Period.</span></i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will grow accustomed to this new normal. There is still
Joy and Love and Peace in this new normal and I am thankful. My heart is so
full. It has a hole where the piece that Mike took with him used to be. That
is where all the good stuff I was given as a result of Mike in my life seeps
out and is given to others and makes me a better person. It’s called Mike’s legacy. That is the only living thing that Mike leaves behind. I know others have it
too because they are telling me about it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>James 1:2-3 Consider it pure joy my brothers whenever you face trials of many kinds </i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
Blessings to you! Love, love, love. </div>
<div>
P.S. For all you grieving mothers and parents out there also on this journey, may God give you peace. I hope you have the support of friends and others. Reach out to them and let them lift you up.</div>
<div>
Diane, let's get together soon :)<br />
P.S.S. Did I ask if someone could come and make his machines disappear so I don't know what happened to them? I will just believe that they will be helping someone else sustain life , , , <b><i>PLEASE? </i></b></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-30677888358282071962015-04-05T14:38:00.000-05:002015-04-05T15:11:54.260-05:00I WILL RISE<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I arrived at Church today fully aware of what we were
celebrating – our Risen Lord. It is what has given me <b><i>JOY</i></b> and <b><i>HOPE</i></b> and <b><i>PEACE</i></b> over these past several very trying months. Shortly after the service began it
gave me something else. Absolute and total humility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">The Junior Choir sang my favorite song of late <b><i>I WILL
RISE.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I listen to this song all the time (the WLA choir sang it at Mikey's funeral) but there was something
different today with the children of <a href="http://www.faithlutheranfdl.org/site/default.asp?sec_id=180003213&nc=1428261799869" target="_blank"><i>Faith Lutheran School</i></a> singing it. Hearing
those childlike voices took me back to the many services I sat through where
Mike and Katie sang in the choir. Sang their praises to the Risen Lord. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">And as
the children sang the words:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i>Worthy
is the Lamb</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">My thoughts went to the passages in scripture that tell us that
one day every knee will bow and all will raise their voices and say – </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i>Revelation 5:12 </i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i>"Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain . . ."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">The tears streamed down my face as I realized that my
Mike is up in heaven right now with that multitude of souls and angels singing
and praising God with those very words – <b><i>Worthy is the Lamb!</i></b> As my mind
wandered to thoughts of what Mike must be experiencing I couldn't hold back the
tears. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Tears of <b><i>JOY</i></b> for my Mikey who is with his Savior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Tears of <b><i>HOPE</i></b> that I too will be with my Savior one day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Tears of thankfulness for the <b><i>PEACE</i></b> I have been given.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">And I am humbled . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Humbled that God used me in Mike’s life to help point him to
Christ. Only Christ and his Word can change a heart and bring saving faith. But
we can point and encourage each other on this walk toward home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i>1 Thessalonians 5:11 Therefore, encourage one another </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><b><i>and
build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">I hope you have the same <b><i>JOY</i></b>, <b><i>HOPE</i></b> and <b><i>PEACE</i></b> I have. The same feeling of gratitude and humility knowing
that you were part of Mikey’s walk toward home. Knowing that one day you too
will see him again, through faith in Christ Jesus, our Risen Lord.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #741b47; font-size: large;">Peace and blessings to you this Easter Sunday. Love, love,
love.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/%3Ciframe%20width=%22420%22%20height=%22315%22%20src=%22https://www.youtube.com/embed/7bNqdUTSqcA%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20allowfullscreen%3E%3C/iframe%3E" target="_blank"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7bNqdUTSqcA" width="420"></iframe></a><br /></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-23916088114436719832015-04-03T23:20:00.000-05:002015-04-03T23:20:00.803-05:00My boys are B A C K!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought a little explanation might be in order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gKNxSU2PeTIt3HWpT0y_OKdhterlUlLNVmIz_hV7bCEMrO2ocSO9hi69SQRm6HEpbQ2Jn0G0C5Pzh7VjDDyWWqGcuk2hgC-PTR99aGm6LKOLF20rZeG9VZQgPT4RS3G2aFe-_uMZ5-5L/s1600/DSC_0160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9gKNxSU2PeTIt3HWpT0y_OKdhterlUlLNVmIz_hV7bCEMrO2ocSO9hi69SQRm6HEpbQ2Jn0G0C5Pzh7VjDDyWWqGcuk2hgC-PTR99aGm6LKOLF20rZeG9VZQgPT4RS3G2aFe-_uMZ5-5L/s1600/DSC_0160.JPG" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is one of the Brothers making sure Katie got a ride to the cemetery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mikey has a whole slew of brothers . . .</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">They share a brotherhood . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdiBeS6HNlsoz9Cj9gZ6b-Dcfx5s8POoJz5748k68x5GYiXj5O1uMipjEEdq62PgW4UqXD2TIzTJGQ-5UAytPAQXXAuPA79_fn27Dym9EPE-lU15Mz7xKgmpdkDz5FdSq5rff-7lGNpjS/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdiBeS6HNlsoz9Cj9gZ6b-Dcfx5s8POoJz5748k68x5GYiXj5O1uMipjEEdq62PgW4UqXD2TIzTJGQ-5UAytPAQXXAuPA79_fn27Dym9EPE-lU15Mz7xKgmpdkDz5FdSq5rff-7lGNpjS/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I liken it to the armed forces. They share a brotherhood
also. They have each other’s back. I know this because I had a brother who was a
Marine and I have a brother who was in the Airborne. They've explained this to
me. I also have a nephew who is serving his third tour in Afghanistan but that
is another blog post. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So regardless of how life ebbs and flows, they hang in there
for each other. If they make a promise they keep it. Well, these brother’s of
Mike’s promised to look out for his family after he was gone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yE7AkME6kLsL18y52vHErnKq49n3QSdPHTnq9i8vnTsaCjO_dTpE5lA44ZVTov1QW93WnIbj4GcdskZWJxj7ipWIX5dttJqfpET4Z9Zg4v_ezSZtrAcLf5JOTLcw-dzslX7SlydjKTHs/s1600/DSC_0144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yE7AkME6kLsL18y52vHErnKq49n3QSdPHTnq9i8vnTsaCjO_dTpE5lA44ZVTov1QW93WnIbj4GcdskZWJxj7ipWIX5dttJqfpET4Z9Zg4v_ezSZtrAcLf5JOTLcw-dzslX7SlydjKTHs/s1600/DSC_0144.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">You've seen in the blog posts that many of the brothers were
here when Mike passed away. They carried him to his cousin’s Hearse and
followed him to the funeral home. Some stayed there as a promise not to leave
him alone and the rest came back here to my home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">While we were sitting here I told them I hoped they would
stop by sometimes. They promised they would. And then I said, “And you know, if
you’re ever riding in the area, could you drive down my street? I love to hear the
pipes on the bikes. You see, when Mike was healthy enough to get out and ride
these past several months, I would get anxious. And then I would here his
Harley in the driveway and I would relax and think to myself, Oh, good, Mikey’s
home! And you know what? <u>Mikey’s home</u>!” as my voice started to break and
drop off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It gives me such comfort to know that Mikey is home with his
Savior. How can I be so sure?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mike was a baptized child of God. The Holy Spirit planted
the seed of Faith in his heart that day. And that is that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-hwbCD4yRkUUfFF3guUxeL7PYxxKIHZdIgZAA_Zham189i0nZ0j713qhHzMbJ17TQ-LAn6xyAiTiODYiDsu1L6BwKcxsjN-1VSQ2GOGrJiTA0-limZ06_NfZCUGPgtlhJnReHp5w2fg_/s1600/DSC_0178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-hwbCD4yRkUUfFF3guUxeL7PYxxKIHZdIgZAA_Zham189i0nZ0j713qhHzMbJ17TQ-LAn6xyAiTiODYiDsu1L6BwKcxsjN-1VSQ2GOGrJiTA0-limZ06_NfZCUGPgtlhJnReHp5w2fg_/s1600/DSC_0178.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Pastor Parsons reflected it perfectly tonight as he recanted
the story of Good Friday during the Tenebrae service at our church. When you
think about the last seven words Jesus spoke from the cross before he died, you
realize that Mike is in heaven with Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus first words on the cross were words of Pardon. He
said, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” Jesus said this about
the very men who had just nailed him to a cross even though he did nothing
wrong and didn't deserve it. This showed us the grace of God. Were those men
sinners like Mike. Yep! Did they or Mike deserve God’s forgiveness? Nope, but
Jesus was on that cross to give it to them anyway. It wasn't about what Mike
did, it was all about what Jesus did for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ksoqsSOYrPL_301i6H9Pi-pUVhpVRJILwqmFtsQs3cTq5jNDAgo3NDbGNq1oMW6fVzF0WqHW9e4DtdcsP-tgz63zE-EOWIc6wX8O23NfJ_oktseTRcQKsqDTWExmx3psYPXKmQ8xiu7Q/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ksoqsSOYrPL_301i6H9Pi-pUVhpVRJILwqmFtsQs3cTq5jNDAgo3NDbGNq1oMW6fVzF0WqHW9e4DtdcsP-tgz63zE-EOWIc6wX8O23NfJ_oktseTRcQKsqDTWExmx3psYPXKmQ8xiu7Q/s1600/DSC_0193.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The second words on the cross were words of Promise. The
criminal who hung next to Jesus had not lived the life of a Christian. He may
have never even been in a church, but Jesus told him, “Today, you will be with
me in Paradise.” Grace again. There were times in Mike’s life that he lived as
a Christian. There were also times when he did not. He told me about his anger
with God for not taking his CF away. A couple months before he died he said to
me, “Mom, do you think God won’t forgive me . . .because you know, I’ve been
kind of mad at him . . . and now he might think I’m only coming back because I
might die or something?” I smiled at him and told him, “Mike, you know God
doesn’t work like that. You know the story of the prodigal son. There is much
rejoicing in heaven.” He relaxed and had comfort. That Faith that was planted
in his heart was still there. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">How was I so sure Mikey was forgiven? Because
Jesus gave us the example of the thief on the cross <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> Because Jesus lived a perfect
life for him. Because Jesus did it all for him and us and left nothing for us
to have to do for ourselves. By saying, “It is finished” he let us know that we
did not have to add to the work of salvation he had won for us. Yep, it’s that
simple. It’s called grace. If you want to hear the rest of the story <a href="http://www.faithlutheranfdl.org/site/cpage.asp?cpage_id=180007755&sec_id=180003194" target="_blank">go here to hear Pastor Parsons</a>' explanation. I just plagiarized the heck out of his sermon
but he won’t mind. He plagiarizes the Bible every time I see him ;). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So I love it when the Biker Brothers of Mike’s drive by
because it makes me think, “Mikey’s H O M E!!” And that gives me such peace. It
always brightens my day. Pretty much every day until the snow flew last fall
one of them rode by my house . . .Bear, Stinky, Dirty Mike, Stretch, Auggy, Chrome . .
.too many to name here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzzpj-UgLVHtjZICxQ4A1tRTqpuNPP0kwABV1aMYetTpBqsFIY-NKfER6jzRdDruyTAS0b5jYUQGxB20KjKOeAAy9L8VJhw7qcT0yCRVWGoN72I0h44jdX5YIAjXVJx8H6PiBvUTWO0uR/s1600/DSC_0159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzzpj-UgLVHtjZICxQ4A1tRTqpuNPP0kwABV1aMYetTpBqsFIY-NKfER6jzRdDruyTAS0b5jYUQGxB20KjKOeAAy9L8VJhw7qcT0yCRVWGoN72I0h44jdX5YIAjXVJx8H6PiBvUTWO0uR/s1600/DSC_0159.JPG" height="263" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And now Spring is here and they are B A C K! Nugget, Chris
and Stretch, Radar, Rooster and Lil Bit (she is soooo tiny) . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you guys! You always put a smile on my face! May God
bless you as you have blessed me! May you find comfort in the cross and the
empty tomb this Easter weekend which gives us hope for eternity and the reunion
with our loved ones!! Love you so much!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-6759374139992364252015-03-18T23:02:00.000-05:002015-03-18T23:02:07.111-05:00Job security . . .?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitMvThVt6jmSqP7AD1eI8B6y_cynMqF418Yd69s8toUAdeEVRQb_yY8sCtVSUDYdcsPJ2eo7fCMeV9H7tUA17P0pUfDC_kshjMRSKYaAI02IT6kjdbPVYyu07N60oYTFNhA-ElOGnlY7I/s1600/0babies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitMvThVt6jmSqP7AD1eI8B6y_cynMqF418Yd69s8toUAdeEVRQb_yY8sCtVSUDYdcsPJ2eo7fCMeV9H7tUA17P0pUfDC_kshjMRSKYaAI02IT6kjdbPVYyu07N60oYTFNhA-ElOGnlY7I/s1600/0babies.jpg" height="316" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie 13 months - Mike 1 month</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As I traveled my path as a single mother I was often subject
to worry. Things are difficult when you are a single mom with two kids and when
one is given the label “handicapped” (not my label but the one given with the
diagnosis of CF at the time) – well, you can only imagine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was very blessed to be working at Air Wisconsin when my
oldest two were born. I stopped working after Mikey’s diagnosis of CF and
cleaned houses, bar tended and babysat to help make ends meet. Young children
have lots of needs and the added expense of CF was worrisome. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Psalm 37:25 I was young and now I am old, </span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>yet I have never seen the </i></b><b><i>righteous forsaken </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">or their children begging bread.</span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOxN-mAxu-3FKZKot6vEDLu8ZAIIPtHwCCiQBv-YdUFdj5PATyjIzI6Zk62W5HiZQwkfKFcYXia8tcT2GAl3c9PYrWcw-ZhgVNvISusCY006-JZl98mNgjJmTYUvDAgWxXr890vzB42mV/s1600/0Prof+Katie+and+Mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOxN-mAxu-3FKZKot6vEDLu8ZAIIPtHwCCiQBv-YdUFdj5PATyjIzI6Zk62W5HiZQwkfKFcYXia8tcT2GAl3c9PYrWcw-ZhgVNvISusCY006-JZl98mNgjJmTYUvDAgWxXr890vzB42mV/s1600/0Prof+Katie+and+Mike.jpg" height="320" width="313" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When I decided to go back to work full time I set my sights
on the best company in the area – KC. It took a few weeks but I was hired. God
blessed my efforts as I was promoted 5 times in 2.5 years. But it appeared that
while I worked full time Mike’s health would decline. I took the money I had
saved in my 401K and decided I could make it until Mike was in first grade if I
was given Social Security due to Mike’s special needs. Lots of other CF
families received the extra help – I was told it would be no problem. WRONG. I
was denied. I cleaned more houses and did what was needed to make ends meet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was completely out of the job market for 7 years. I
figured my skills were probably out dated but I needed a job so I studied up
and applied. I was once again blessed to get a job that paid the bills. I was
hired full time at Oshkosh Truck Corporation where I had worked right out of
High School. Amazing that God would bless me with steady work. At all three
places, Air Wisconsin, KC and Oshkosh Truck, I was always given the time I
needed to spend every minute with Mike in the hospital. He was never left alone
as a child. If I wasn't with him his father was. Never alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3hY2VzEDYIsDIchtZ0sz6Is9rG9zghtdJgk7ze_TgLoVAu03N3sUTfVcq7jSpDM5Y92c9-XLiZF1Wfyb3H2Fry5bz5LRhRCidSvHAD57Db6bAskWmbq1uc6F-384WfOsKt6flXEbS4OW/s1600/0us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3hY2VzEDYIsDIchtZ0sz6Is9rG9zghtdJgk7ze_TgLoVAu03N3sUTfVcq7jSpDM5Y92c9-XLiZF1Wfyb3H2Fry5bz5LRhRCidSvHAD57Db6bAskWmbq1uc6F-384WfOsKt6flXEbS4OW/s1600/0us.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">I left the job market again to go to College. I went after a
business degree. My hope was that I could increase my earning potential to be
able to afford the increasing expenses of CF and a future transplant. I was
sure that with a degree I wouldn't have to worry so much. I had over 2 years
under my belt when I decided to marry Paul and shortly thereafter was expecting
little Richie. Having a new baby, I went into a completely different career
that would meet our needs but was a huge stretch from my IT background –
childcare. There was no reason I should have been any good at running a child care
center. But God continued to bless my efforts and Jesus’ Little Lambs prospered
despite my lack of education and experience.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Philippians 2:13 "for it is God who works in you </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>to will and to act according to his good purpose."</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">After 10 years of working at the church/child care God
blessed us with our David. The hours got to be too much and I left the job
market once again. Being an older mom was tough. I stayed home and did child
care in my home until David was old enough for school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought for sure my earning potential would be close to
nothing but God stepped in once again and allowed me to work at one of the best
employers in Fond du Lac – J. F. Ahern. Again, there was never a question as to
where my first priority lied. I was able to leave when needed to take Mike back
and forth to Madison. I was blessed. But with CF, full time work and two young
kids I started to falter under the stress. I couldn't do that kind of work and
deal with all that was going on as CF started to take my Mikey from me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I have to say, that as I left that job I wondered if I
would ever work in the business world again. God stepped in again and through
many friends and family members I was encouraged to continue to try. "There are
other business without the high stress levels of project management and
construction," they encouraged me. God blessed me again and the first job I applied for resulted in
a job offer. Divine intervention. Again, I was given the time that I needed to take Mike to the
hospital. As Mike got sicker others stepped in and helped give him
rides back and forth. The rest you can see in past blog posts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">What is the moral of this story?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I might not have job security . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I might not get Social Security . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But I will always have - <b><i>God security</i></b>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Given only
through God’s amazing grace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Amen to that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">We pray – give us today our daily bread – but we really
usually don’t mean that. We really want job security, a nice padded bank
account and a sizable 401K or else we worry. But God is always there working
things out for our good just like he promised. <b><i>God security</i></b>. Yes, I have been homeless with two kids and I have
lived in what many would consider a mansion. That is amazing grace. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to </span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">have plenty. I have learned the </span></b></i><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">secret of being content </span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">in any and every
situation, whether well fed or hungry, </span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">whether living in plenty or in want. </span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>I
can do all things through </b></i><i><b>Christ who </b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">strengthens me. Philippians 4:13</span></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">People have said to me, “You’re so lucky! You always land
the good jobs!” or “You’re so techno geeky – you’ll always have job security!”
When I hear these remarks I pause and take inventory . . . if left to my own
devices I probably wouldn't have a job at all. To God be the glory. He has and
always will give me <b><i>God security</i></b>. I trust Him completely. Forgive me Lord for
the times I have doubted and worried. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The night seems darkest before the dawn. For those of you
looking for work – hang in there. Trust. Yes, I worked hard and studied. God did the rest. Trust. I wish I wouldn't have worried so much. So much
of the sin in my life was a result of that awful thing called worry. Trust Him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>for tomorrow will worry about itself. </i></b><b><i>Each </i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34</span></i></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you! Love, love, love.</span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-CR5YW0_-XFg%2FVQpBSVJgrpI%2FAAAAAAAABFM%2FM5NnflH3wWQ%2Fs1600%2F0Prof%252BKatie%252Band%252BMike.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOxN-mAxu-3FKZKot6vEDLu8ZAIIPtHwCCiQBv-YdUFdj5PATyjIzI6Zk62W5HiZQwkfKFcYXia8tcT2GAl3c9PYrWcw-ZhgVNvISusCY006-JZl98mNgjJmTYUvDAgWxXr890vzB42mV/s1600/0Prof+Katie+and+Mike.jpg" -->Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-18536685356359486692015-03-07T08:48:00.000-06:002015-03-07T19:11:24.719-06:00God's Perfect Timing<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">God’s timing is always perfect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes that is hard for us to see.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes we have to wait to see it. Looking back it seems
so clear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength;<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>They shall mount up with wings like eagles<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>They shall run and not be weary,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>They shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One could say that having babies less than 13
months apart isn't good timing. But looking back, having Katie and Mikey so close was a blessing. They were like twins. They loved and cherished each other even after
they grew individual personalities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If you have ever danced you know how important timing is.
When a couple like Julie Wilson and Mike danced it was beautiful. They danced
as one. If one of them had even been a second off it would have been less than desirable
to watch (and probably wouldn’t have gotten them a State championship).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Mikey told many of his peeps that he didn't want to die in a
hospital bed. That was part of his decision to come home on Hospice. He even
refused the bed that Hospice brought when he first arrived. But after a few
days his back started to hurt. He needed to be propped up to be comfortable and
that was hard to do in a regular bed. I finally talked Mike
into using the bed that was downstairs. “It just allows for you to raise the
head up and down, Mike,” I bartered. He agreed. But now how was that going to
happen? Mike was getting weaker. The bed that was in that small room was full
size. This wasn't</span><span style="font-size: large;"> going to be easy. Timing would be everything.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">His father and I met in the hall and I said, “I think . . .”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’ve got this,” He interrupted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“But . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’ve got this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“But you know we can . . .”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’ve got this!” Big Mike interjected again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I relaxed. I said, “OK.”</span><span style="font-size: large;"> I sat back and watched Big Mike’s
perfect timing play out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This needed to be orchestrated. I’m sure Mikey is proud
watching the choreography of his father that went on behind the scenes, as he
watches the replay on that big screen TV up in heaven. Big Mike rallied the
troops that were here. One quick call to Mikey’s friends and family members and
everyone was ready to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Aunt Cathy cradled Mikey ever so gently in her arms while
Amy held the morphine drip. As they sat Mikey down in a chair in the room
someone set off a timer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTp_g0QUvAaR8zYcPkwbLuYWjowU4CDevWJ3NWhKm-aX74KaTKl1ArR8tdiP1EpRF_HonSnK9K-wNscfxvP5g5Vh8yZa34Qt3YWfAFnUBHoLzGMMVwby9Q4h9KxtABiseZyRf_-aLJuG_J/s1600/IMG_20140927_123002086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTp_g0QUvAaR8zYcPkwbLuYWjowU4CDevWJ3NWhKm-aX74KaTKl1ArR8tdiP1EpRF_HonSnK9K-wNscfxvP5g5Vh8yZa34Qt3YWfAFnUBHoLzGMMVwby9Q4h9KxtABiseZyRf_-aLJuG_J/s1600/IMG_20140927_123002086.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_MBOz_E6HsGvHr8oPEdZvBV6J7qi1kuFjsxt8l1WPI8FUtbMYcaSWtFk7ZdcvgeYxBFsDrd_y9LaMiLIzokGTwFJzJ8G_4mAuaAHN5NruljsYxbybFlULL1u_IpM8DMuSah3oN2wFqoC/s1600/IMG_20140927_123119962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_MBOz_E6HsGvHr8oPEdZvBV6J7qi1kuFjsxt8l1WPI8FUtbMYcaSWtFk7ZdcvgeYxBFsDrd_y9LaMiLIzokGTwFJzJ8G_4mAuaAHN5NruljsYxbybFlULL1u_IpM8DMuSah3oN2wFqoC/s1600/IMG_20140927_123119962.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">A group came in and disassembled the bed and rushed it out
the door and down the hall. Scott, Bryon, Bear and others led by Big Mike came in and
assembled the Hospice bed and plugged it in. Sheets and blankets were already
on it and within 6 minutes from the time Mikey got up he was back in bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It’s amazing what love can do. So honored that all these
people were part of Mikey’s life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Looking back, I see God’s perfect timing for Mikey’s departure
to heaven. We had anticipated many months of dependence on oxygen. Being
tethered to a tank. Mike didn't want that. We talked about it a few times and I
could not get him out of that mindset. Mike was always so giving. He gave until
there was no more left to give. I would tell him that this would be our time to
give back to him. But he would get agitated about it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 81.0pt; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>For we are God’s
workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in
advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I have said to people, “If there were ever such a thing as a
beautiful death, my son was granted it.” All of his loved ones there to support
him. He was able to speak up until the very end. He said his goodbyes and I’ll
see you laters. Never alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am so thankful for God’s perfect timing for Mike. For me.
For you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 49.5pt; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>‘O Lord, you have
searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive
my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are
familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it
completely, O Lord. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my
mother’s womb. Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me
were written in your book before one of them came to be.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 8.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 49.5pt; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Psalm 139</i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 49.5pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you. Love, love,
love.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-90882542346048059112015-03-05T20:55:00.003-06:002015-03-05T20:57:33.029-06:00Finding My Voice<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a long time . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I just stopped . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It felt like I lost my voice . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I know up in the corner of my blog it says why I started this blog. And it is why I started it. . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But then it slowly evolved. Sometimes I didn't know whose voice I was speaking . . . mine or Mikes. Truthfully, sometimes it was mine and sometimes it was Mike's. Once in a while he totally hijacked my blog completely and told me what he wanted me to say. I didn't mind at all. This became the place where people could go to find out how Mikey was doing. I promised to be real and I feel like I kept that promise :)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, I guess it's not unusual that I would stumble about a bit. Not sure how I want to move forward . . , or if I even do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was at the dentist and JoBeth said she liked to read about Mikey's stories. Others have shared that they do too. Others said they enjoyed reading my blog and somehow it brought them comfort or peace.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, we all know that has nothing to do with me now don't we.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But I feel like I am finding my voice again. So much that I still want to share about the road I traveled with my Mikey. And then there are still all the reasons I started this blog to begin with.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am one blessed mamma that is for sure. Blessed to still have such peace. Blessed to have a Father who continues to comfort and bring me joy. Blessed with a loving family. Blessed by all of you and your continued support and prayers.</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9ifk73ICGwCeSCgd00Vz0cQOiDF1uoW7nvjyxfe1VkLiqq7nqwY8j3GazsyDskih-NiB7wiIajNPbWQ5JgCmMKXBgojyw-8ahZ0p-4OHPkV0wiCu3JuuE_eRcEGTyOBP9i8ob3ji1JiS/s1600/Grace+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9ifk73ICGwCeSCgd00Vz0cQOiDF1uoW7nvjyxfe1VkLiqq7nqwY8j3GazsyDskih-NiB7wiIajNPbWQ5JgCmMKXBgojyw-8ahZ0p-4OHPkV0wiCu3JuuE_eRcEGTyOBP9i8ob3ji1JiS/s1600/Grace+2.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There have been a few rough patches . . but none without God's comfort, love and forgiveness. I am learning how to trust completely . . . and it feels really good. I know there is an end to grief, because there is no end to grace. God is so good.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And look how God blessed us this week:</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGH-jplF4Lwr4Sx83uFOgrDSeDwNFALFqP_j9DSVKL5L5n2Edd40xCWBTUAcN6DIu2dWRw3BWq17ohyphenhypheniryaxxanvz6yjF_uh2u116Dwf8tn0tu8fjAYd3yWaSQRqXLYlTKD3g7T6OTi5x/s1600/IMG_0641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGH-jplF4Lwr4Sx83uFOgrDSeDwNFALFqP_j9DSVKL5L5n2Edd40xCWBTUAcN6DIu2dWRw3BWq17ohyphenhypheniryaxxanvz6yjF_uh2u116Dwf8tn0tu8fjAYd3yWaSQRqXLYlTKD3g7T6OTi5x/s1600/IMG_0641.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This young man lettered as a Freshman in Wrestling. We are so proud of him. A lot of hard work paid off for him. It is amazing what he can do when he puts his mind to something! To God be the glory!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And this little guy has a new special friend:</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbY5kyY2lLC8i43Wn1LPx08DlSUDwMlDhmHBxmqXtgoVXIla7ETt7mF-G_7jV_ejtnEBIlZRbFLqr9CqyRNzK0mVZpIcCIOoAX__PqnHXu2VdCHX0aiG39bhQD-AbJM83NSJB6mzXC-QK/s1600/IMG_0620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipbY5kyY2lLC8i43Wn1LPx08DlSUDwMlDhmHBxmqXtgoVXIla7ETt7mF-G_7jV_ejtnEBIlZRbFLqr9CqyRNzK0mVZpIcCIOoAX__PqnHXu2VdCHX0aiG39bhQD-AbJM83NSJB6mzXC-QK/s1600/IMG_0620.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Zaria for taking such good care of Eva so David could have her :) He sure does love her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Katie, Gage and Amy are all doing well also.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am so blessed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Hubby gave the sermon this week at school. He puts so much into those sermons and devotions. We are blessed by his Divine Call.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It is Lent. It reassures me that I will one day be going to heaven to meet my Savior just like my son did.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">All good stuff folks, all good stuff.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Peace and blessings to each of you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Many prayers going up for Rusty and Laura. May God continue to comfort and uphold you during this trying time. I admire the strength of these women.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Love, love, love.</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-50154750461309058462014-11-30T11:45:00.000-06:002015-03-07T14:20:58.723-06:00Lifted Burdens<span style="font-size: large;">There are things I look back at now and see through the eyes of reflection that make me very thankful. They also make me hang my head and wonder why I allowed worry to engulf me at times.</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><strong><em><br /></em></strong></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><strong><em>Psalm
50:15 Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will
honor me.</em></strong></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Having a child with a genetic disease means most life insurance companies will not insure them. For years this thought would creep up into my mind. How would I have the money to bury my son if he died before me?</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">CF is a very expensive disease for families. Lots of medical bills and medications. Travel to and from medical facilities, stays in hospitals and hotels, equipment and the list goes on.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There were times I trusted and there were times I worried.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So many of you have helped ease our burdens. Thank you. We are so grateful for all the support we received and are still receiving.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to all those who lifted us up in prayer. They were all heard and answered.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Derek for giving of all of your time for Mikey's funeral preparations. He would not allow one second of his time to be charged.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">To Radar who would not allow us to be burdened with any amount insurance didn't pay for the ambulance ride home.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Grandma VanDeurzen who allowed Mike to be buried on their plot.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to so many friends and relatives who gave money to help pay for Mike's medical and burial expenses.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Uncle David, Aunt Renee and my girlfriend Jean for helping financially with Mike's expenses these last couple of difficult years when the expense became overwhelming.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Brandi and Julie for helping raise awareness and money to help with Mike's expenses.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to my girlfriend Gail who came immediately and stayed until the end. Working tirelessly even though she struggles with her own chronic illness.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to my girlfriend Pam who brought food and shampoo and things I needed.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to the many people who brought food to the house. I don't even know who you all are. I didn't see anyone who brought food except my mom and Brandi (Julie brought salsa and cookies). It was just there when I would come downstairs. Bless you.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to all of the friends and relatives who helped us take care of Richie and David.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">To Johnna, Cathy, Kay and others who took charge and put the food out for others to have. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I was so out of it I didn't even offer Mike and Kay anything to eat or drink when they first came. When Mike and I talked to Mikey and I told them his dad could come and stay, I was extending an open invitation but then we got to our house and things got crazy. Thank you for your forgiveness you guys.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Kay who brought water and hand sanitizer and all sorts of stuff.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Amy who ran to the store or errands on more than one occasion yet was still there every time Mike called for her.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Amy S for the Chapstick.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Mike and Dianne P who counseled with Mike so many times and talked him through many rough patches in his life.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Rhonda, Amy, Pastor Parson's, Beth and others for my cokes.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Mike's brothers who would come at a moments notice if we needed anything. Some ran to the pharmacy for drugs, others on errands, some came in the middle of the night because Mike just needed to know that they were there.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Scott who came in the middle of his work week and camped out in the hospital parking lot.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Dennis for making the trip so many times. Mike needed you and you were there.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to the women who made the purple ribbons.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to the folks who made bracelets.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Julie for the flash mob. . . unbelievable memories.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">To the Pastors and staff at Good Shepherd Lutheran for allowing all of us to have Mike's visitation there.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">To the Pastors and staff at Faith who allowed us to fit around tight schedules. Allowed Mike's bikes to be kept there with him. For understanding the brothers needed to keep watch.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Pastor Naumann for an incredible sermon that has brought peace to all of us.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Pastor Parsons, Haugley, Weigand and Naumann for the devotions. Thank you Pastor Haugly for giving Mike Communion.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Uncle Bob and Uncle Scott for honoring Mike's request to sing Breathe. I can't imagine how hard that was to do at Mikey's funeral. But they did it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Auggy and Mongo who wrote poems for Mike and shared them with the rest of us.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to everyone who spoke at Mike's funeral.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Madyson for the Hero speech she shared with Mike and then with all of us.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Erin and Brooke for your counsel</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to Uncle Jim's sisters and others who helped organize and serve the lunch after the burial.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to everyone who brought food for the lunch.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to everyone who sent plants and flowers. They are all lovely. Thank you to Mike Bassett for the two trees. They are planted in our yard. I couldn't find your address to thank you.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to the THMC for honoring Mike's last request that the club have his motorcycle. This was a difficult request to fill. It was Mike's only asset and with medical bills and such it would not be easy to fulfill this request. The club purchased the bike for well over its value to fulfill Mikey's request and to help alleviate some of Mike's expenses. God bless you all.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">And to Heartland Hospice for the storm we created. It was no easy thing to get Mike home and make all the arrangements in a moments notice. There was not time to work things out perfectly. They took him anyway and we all did the best we could. They came back every time we needed them. They continue to call and offer comfort through our grief.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to everyone who showed up - no matter how you did it. You showed up and gave support. I never could have imagined how God was going to work this all out and how awesomely he would do it. I didn't need to worry. I only needed to trust him. How silly I was.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Matthew 6:33-34 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.</i></b></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you to all of you for helping to lift our burdens. God bless each and every one of you. Peace.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KOcHRB6UIgw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span id="goog_327248279"></span><span id="goog_327248280">I didn't get the entire song but I will share the piece I did get. So awesome of these Uncle's of Mike's to do this for him. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Keep loving it forward with us. Blessings to you!</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-34058951130697589402014-11-27T11:11:00.002-06:002014-11-27T11:14:23.775-06:00Thanksgiving 2014<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I love getting back into the kitchen. . . it's been a while ;)</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I was blessed to go to church last night before I started my Thanksgiving Day preparations. It helped me reflect on all that I am thankful for most importantly God. He has given me a faith that has sustained me through so much this past year.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">It has been a tradition around our home to take a few moments during the Thanksgiving activities and write down several things that we are thankful for. The things after God, faith and salvation. Those are a given. Those are the things that we thank God for on a daily basis. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">This morning I pulled out the cards from 2008 and this is what I found:</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Katie</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. I have a supporting job!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. That I had my guardian angel with me and watching over me this summer!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. The support of family during hard times!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mom</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. I am thankful Mike hasn't been in the hospital in <u>over</u> 8 weeks :)</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. Thankful our income is still enough for our <u>needs</u>! Thankful our car still runs and hasn't had any major expense.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. I am thankful for my spiritual growth that is a huge gift and an answered prayer.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">4. For a spiritually mature husband who takes his responsibility as leader of our family, seriously.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Paul</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. Pain free legs & not getting up 3 times a night.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. Working windshield wipers on the Bonneville that still runs.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. The job that I have in an unstable economy.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">4. Thankful that gas prices have dropped from $4 to $1.73.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">5. The Lord bringing all of us through many hospital visits throughout 2008.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Gage</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. Turkey, corn, chicken, jello.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. Going in my room.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. Going outside with dad and playing with toys.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. My health</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. Working at the Dance Studio</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. Disability checks</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">David (with Dad's help to write them)</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">1. CARS (as in the movie and the little toys).</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">2. My mom who stays with me every day.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">3. Music because I love to sing.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">4. A Car so that I can go places like the museum and the swimming pool.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">5. Friends that come to my house (Jack & Gavin).</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And Richard</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">1. Pudding 17. George Washington 33. Pumpkin Patches</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">2. Mom 18. The Mall 34. Vitamins</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">3. Dad 19. Stores 35. Katie</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">4. Donets 20. Shoes Katie and I got a pretty</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">5. Mike 21. Sand good chuckle out of his list :)</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">6. David 22. Shovel</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">7. bike 23. Orange Juice</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">8. My room 24. Ice Cream</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">9. Gage 25. Can't read it</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">10. Going on Vacations 26. Roads</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">11. Snow 27. Brownies</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">12. Waterpark 28. Cake</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">13 No school days 29. Hair</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">14. Football games 30. Summer</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">15. House 31. Spring</span><br />
<span style="color: black;">16. Money 32. Little Farmer</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I am thankful that I am a scrapbooker and that I took the time to do things like this. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">There is a wonderful smell in my home from pies that just came out of the oven and things still in there baking. Paul, Richie, David and two of my nephews up from Tennessee, Luke and Eli just left for church. The house has been filled with life and laughter . . . I am thankful.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Many people have shared with me that the holidays would be especially hard. I can honestly say I haven't found this to be true so far. I think about the fact that Mike is celebrating his first Thanksgiving in heaven and I think about how cool that must be. When I think about Mike I immediately think about the fact he isn't suffering. I miss him terribly some times. When the tempter comes and gives me a poke it isn't fun. He took a really good jab at me a few weeks ago. I'll write about that another time. But the comforter is still here giving me comfort and peace and he is bigger than any temptation.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I was typing at my niece Janna the other day and I was able to verbalize the realization of experiences I have been having. While talking about grief I wrote:</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<em><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I am learning through this experience that it is hard to be sad while your heart is so full of thankfulness and gratitude. I choose to be thankful that God gave me a son. Not look at it that God took away my son. It is hard to explain to others who are hurting. But I'm going to keep trying because I so want them to feel what I am feeling. It is a God feeling. A feeling that can come only from God. To feel His presence so fully that grief becomes only a shadow to it. To feel so much gratitude for His mercy that sorrow has to take a back seat. To have so much hope in Him that there is no way not to have joy. It is a God feeling and it is pretty amazing. God truly does come close to the broken hearted - indeed.</span></em><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I'm not saying that there isn't grief and sorrow. There is. But it is not all consuming. There is joy, there is peace, there is gladness . . . life is for the living. The lesson I'm learning is that while I am living in gratitude and thankfulness I don't feel as sad or sorrowful. They are shadowed. God is so good.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I choose to look at things like the notes above and be thankful. I was going through some of the medical notes from Mike's chart and I found this:</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i>Written on 9/16/14 by the Palliative Care Team</i></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i> . . .Mike recognizes that he does get depressed at times, but feels he has a great support system especially through his "biker" club. Mike is close to his family--he has 2 younger brothers. His mom has remarried and he appears to have a good relationship with his step-dad. His dad is involved and visits on weekends.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><i><br />Closure of Life Affairs: Patient is hopeful to live until he is 34, but recognizes that time could be shorter. He is starting to think about how his family might cope with this death. He shared stories about his life, <b><u>and the fact that he feels he has had a good life</u></b>.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What a blessing to see those words. Mike shared that with many at UW Madison - "I've had a good life . . ." You are all part of that. How can we be anything but thankful.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfeNb_p4wgcBD4EvQYxKidtaAHeD15V0seR0wefrYY4Lhdc60hZq8cDuNHGfyRkgWXl2ToLfBNWUr-bzLHNcT1DWTu482v2nf_xqzc8KyaUCLPt5gNCfU0t5Q6OaOnu6ulCMo8iXgjg-y/s1600/IMG_5098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfeNb_p4wgcBD4EvQYxKidtaAHeD15V0seR0wefrYY4Lhdc60hZq8cDuNHGfyRkgWXl2ToLfBNWUr-bzLHNcT1DWTu482v2nf_xqzc8KyaUCLPt5gNCfU0t5Q6OaOnu6ulCMo8iXgjg-y/s1600/IMG_5098.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture was taken on the day we wrote the thankful cards above :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span id="goog_345840360"></span><span id="goog_345840361">From our home to yours may God bless your holiday! Thank you all for showing up to help Mike, me and my family get through his final round and since. We are grateful.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Love, love, love.</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-42377190197186939552014-10-31T19:22:00.001-05:002014-11-02T09:42:47.221-06:00Mike's Funeral Service<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I had so hoped to be able to put a link here to the video from Mike's funeral service held 4 weeks ago today. That didn't work out so I am going to post the words and music from the service as best I can.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: black;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't get good audio from the Choir but I posted this because the two are very similar. WLA's choir directed by Dale Witte did an awesome job. This is a recording from our MLC college. I thought I would post this first so you could listen to it while you read the rest of the service.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 18pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">T</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">HE </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 18pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">W</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">ORD OF </span></b><b><span style="font-size: 18pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">G</span></b><b><span style="font-size: 14pt; letter-spacing: -0.25pt;">OD<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b>FIRST LESSON Psalm
46 (NIV84)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present
help in trouble. <sup>2 </sup>Therefore we will not fear, though the earth
give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, <sup>3</sup>though
its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. <sup>4</sup>There
is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the
Most High dwells. <sup>5 </sup>God is within her, she will not fall; God will
help her at break of day. <sup>6 </sup>Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts. <sup>7</sup>The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. <sup>8 </sup>Come and see the works of the
Lord, the desolations he has brought on the earth. <sup>9 </sup>He makes wars
cease to the ends of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he
burns the shields with fire. <sup>10 </sup>“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” <sup>11
</sup>The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.</span><br />
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<b>SECOND LESSON John 14:1-6 (NIV 84)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">“Do not let your
hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. <sup>2 </sup>In my
Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am
going there to prepare a place for you. <sup>3 </sup>And if I go and prepare
a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may
be where I am. <sup>4 </sup>You know the way to the place where I am going.” <sup>5
</sup>Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can
we know the way?” <sup>6 </sup>Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth
and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.<sup>”</sup></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>HYMN OF THE DAY “God
Loved the World So that He Gave”<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b> </b><i>Hymn 391<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>v. 1-4 All, v. 5
Solo, v. 6 All<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>SERMON
2 Timothy 4:6-8 (NIV 84)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Fight the Good Fight<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">In the Name of the Father, Son and HS. The word of our God that we would set our
hearts to this day is the text of some of the last words that I had the
opportunity to share with our dear loved one, Mike Van Deurzen. The words come from 2 Timothy 4:6-8 “<b><i>For I
am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my
departure. <sup>7</sup>I have
fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. <sup>8</sup>Now there is in store for me
the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to
me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his
appearing.</i></b>” Those words were
fitting for Mike to hear as he spent the last few days of his life in the here
and now, and those words are just as fitting for us to hear, as we spend these
days mourning the loss of our loved one and rejoicing that he is now at
rest.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">Mike Van Deurzen was a fighter. As Gina mentioned, not much
in Mikey’s life came easy. Ever since the diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis almost thirty
years ago, Mike has been Fighting- fighting for breath, fighting for life. And
yet, that fight didn’t get him down. I
have had the privilege of knowing Mike for the last ten years, and I can
honestly stand before you and tell you that Mike was an awesome
individual. I spent a lot of time
talking to Mike, either in the hospital room at UW for his treatments, up in
the third floor suite at the Thiesfeldts, or in my office at church. Mike had
this attitude about life that was absolutely incredible. In all of my talks
with Mike, I don’t think I ever heard Mike complain. And that’s pretty
incredible- because from an earthly perspective-Mike could have had a whole lot
to complain about. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;">Mike was an individual who knew blessings, but he also knew
difficulties. Mike’s life was not always that perfect bed of roses. And yet, he
always seemed to have that upbeat attitude. I am convinced that one of the
reasons why he had that attitude, the creative loving spirit, the giving
heart-those things that the obituary mentioned-was all due to the fact that he
knew that in Christ, he had everything. He knew what he was looking forward to.
He knew all about the crown- that Christ had won for him. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">In our sermon text for today we have the Apostle Paul
looking forward to the very same thing that Mike was looking forward to: The
Crown. In this book of the Bible, we
have the Apostle Paul writing to his young friend, Pastor Timothy. He is
writing this letter towards the end of his earthly life. He knows that soon, his time on this earth
will end. And so he writes this letter
to help and encourage Pastor Timothy. <b><i>The
time has come for my departure. <sup>7</sup>I
have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. </i></b>This
life isn’t easy. Paul knew that. The Apostle
Paul knew what it meant to deal with difficulties in life. He knew what hardships
were all about. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Mike knew difficulties in this life too. He knew what it meant to fight the good fight,
and to run the race. Last Friday I was
sitting with Mike and talking with him about this text in preparation for his
funeral. Mike knew that the fight that
Paul is talking about here wasn’t a war with Cystic Fibrosis, it is a war
against sin. It’s a war against the
world. It’s a war against the
devil. Mike knew about that fight too. He
knew that there were plenty of times when he lost that battle against sin. In
fact really, that’s the real reason we are gathered here today. That’s the real
reason why his 31 year old body is laid out in that casket. …it is not because
of CF, but rather it is because Mike sinned. Because Mike Sinned-Mike died. And
quite frankly because I have sinned, because you have sinned, we are going to
share the exact same fate. We too will
die. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">But friends the good news that Mike wanted you all to hear
today was that, that [casket] isn’t the end of the story. Mike didn’t lose the race! He didn’t lose the
battle! He won! Mike knew that he had a Savior who paid for that sin. He had a
Savior who was born of a woman, just like we are. He had a Savior who grew up just like we do.
He had a Savior who was tempted by the devil, just like we are. <b>But this Savior was different</b>. For this
Savior never once listened to the devils lies, like we do. This Savior never
once fell prey to the devil’s temptations, like we do. And then this Savior suffered- far more than
you or I or even Mike ever have had to suffer in this life. For Jesus bore
every one of Mike’s sins, everyone of yours, everyone of mine on that
cross. And then our Savior- at the age
of just 33, died. But he didn’t stay dead- no on that third day he rose again,
to give us the confident hope that we can face the death of a 31 year old in a
completely different way. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">For Mike knew that his race was already won. For he knew
that because Christ had won the victory for him-he could look forward to the
prize at the end of the race. Just listen to hear what Mike is enjoying right
now: <b><i><sup>8</sup></i></b><b><i>Now
there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the
righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to
all who have longed for his appearing.</i></b>” Mike is enjoying the crown not the CF. The very Lord who called Mike to be his own when
he Baptized him, is the very same Lord who kept him close to his heart through the
means of grace. Mike knew that because he had Jesus’ life death and
resurrection credited to his account, he could approach God’s throne of grace
with confidence. He was at peace.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Mike had the confident hope of knowing where he was going. When
I visited him last Friday, I asked him if there was anything he was afraid of.
He looked at me, and he said-well I just want to be sure that my brothers can
be my pall bearers and if they could wear their vests at church-is that gonna
be OK? I said absolutely. He said-then there is this procession from the church
to the cemetery-can they ride in that procession-it’s going to be really loud?
I said-I can’t wait to hear it Mike. No problem. But that’s all the service-we
can take care of that, but what about you-is there anything you are afraid of? Mike
said, “I hope my mom is going to be OK after I’m gone.” I said, she has a great
family and great friends-and an even better Lord that are all going to help her
through this. But Mike what about you- is there anything you are afraid
of-anything I can explain from the scriptures of what’s going to happen when
you die. He said-No-I’m good-I got Jesus. He’s just going to come and get me.” I
said, yes He is Mike, yes he is. Mike was one incredible guy. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Mike knew that he had won the race. He may have lost the
battle with Cystic Fibrosis-but he won the War when he got the crown and
inherited heaven’s home. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Mike knew that Jesus had fought the good fight for him and
as a result, he had won the war. And it
is just as important that you know that you too have won the war. It is just as
important for you to know that Christ has won that crown for you. You need to
know that because losing a loved one isn’t easy. Oh sure, we can comfort ourselves by saying
that Mike isn’t suffering anymore-and he isn’t.
We can comfort ourselves by saying that he isn’t struggling to catch his
breath, and he is breathing easy. But the fact is, that there is still this
void- this earthly separation that takes place when a loved one dies. But in
the middle of our pain, we can be comforted with the same words that comforted Mike. We know that we too have the crown to look
forward to. We know that one day, we too are going to go before God’s judgment
throne, and he is going to ask us the same question that he asked Mike this
past Sunday, “Why in the world should I let you into my heaven?” We know that
we are going to say the same thing that Mike did, we aren’t going to point to
ourselves and our own works-because we are a bunch of sinful people, but
instead we are simply going to point to Jesus’ life death and resurrection
credited to our account. And God will look at us and say to us the same thing
he told Mike, “Well done my good and faithful servant-enter the kingdom
prepared for you!” Until that day comes, Keep your eyes focused on the prize- and
keep Fighting the Good Fight! Amen.</span><br />
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<o:p></o:p><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<b>APOSTLES’
CREED</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>I believe in God, the Father almighty,
maker of heaven and earth.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="margin-left: 0in; tab-stops: right 6.0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0in;">
<b>I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son,
our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary,
suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. He
descended into hell. The third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended
into heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty. From
there he will come to judge the living and the dead.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy
Christian Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the
resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black;">PRAYER</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">M: Almighty
God, we praise you for the great company of saints who have finished their lives in faith and now rest from their
labors. We remember especially our loved
one, Mike Van Deurzen Jr., whom you have redeemed by the blood of your Son and
received as your dear child through Holy
Baptism. We thank you for giving him to us as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage.
In your compassion, comfort all who are sad in this hour. Lord, in your mercy,</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">C: Hear our prayer.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /><span style="color: black;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">M: We praise you for your love in Christ,
which sustains us in life and death. In our earthly
sorrows, help us find strength in the fellowship of the church, joy in the
forgiveness of sins, and hope in the resurrection to eternal life. Lord, in your mercy,</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black;">C: Hear our prayer.</span></b><br />
<span style="color: black;"><strong></strong><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;">M: You
do not leave us comfortless but strengthen and care for us through your Word and sacrament. You give us family, friends, and neighbors to
help when there is loneliness now
and in the days to come. Brighten our future with a firm trust in your promises and
care. Lord, in your mercy,</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black;">C: Hear our prayer.</span></b><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="color: black;">M:
Remove our fears, and make us bold
to pray with confidence as our Savior has taught us:</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"> </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="color: black;">C: Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be
thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive
us our trespasses, as we forgive
those who trespass against us; and lead
us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and
the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen.</span></b></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black;">BLESSING</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black;">M: <b> </b>The Lord bless you and keep you. <b></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> The Lord make his face shine on you and be
gracious to you.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> The Lord look on you with favor and give you
peace.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">C: Amen.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /><span style="color: black;"></span></span></b></div>
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Because some of you have been asking:<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in -1.8pt 0pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;"><span style="color: black;">Presiding Minister: Rev. Brett
G. Naumann</span></span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0in -1.8pt 0pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;">Pastor Naumann Preaches at</span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0in -1.8pt 0pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;">Good Shepherd Lutheran Church</span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0in -1.8pt 0pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;">855 Martin Avenue, Fond du Lac</span></i></div>
<div style="margin: 0in -1.8pt 0pt 0in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: black; font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;">This is the church where we had Mike's visitation.</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;">
</span><i><span style="font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif;"><span style="color: black;">Organist: Mr. Dale Witte - WLA</span></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;">
<i><span style="font-family: "GarmdITC BkCn BT",serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Choir Director: Mr. Dale Witte - WLA</span></i></span></div>
</span><br /><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">It was a beautiful service. I'm glad I took the time to post this today. Today was a rough day. I miss my Mikey. Sometimes you just gotta let it out I guess. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: black;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessed are those who mourn . . .</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Blessings to you!</span></div>
</div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-7845480395380585042014-10-26T09:46:00.002-05:002014-10-26T10:02:39.491-05:00HOPE<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><i>1 Peter 3:15 “Always be prepared to give an answer to
everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”</i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Mike left this world four weeks ago this morning. On a
Sunday. I am so confident in where Mike is.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7VDRTaCJBkAOi2M9h5N1ZEgg-__OSRKOHPuBPHaLvfRRbA3kAv5wv69TiTutAhRs6U6FUbfyKUNtWD5XzaTmGqBXO-F-ZikeYhhKC52xhz1TyiCwnjdqECNT8sY7rpq-9yHtCtMMMZSU/s1600/A0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7VDRTaCJBkAOi2M9h5N1ZEgg-__OSRKOHPuBPHaLvfRRbA3kAv5wv69TiTutAhRs6U6FUbfyKUNtWD5XzaTmGqBXO-F-ZikeYhhKC52xhz1TyiCwnjdqECNT8sY7rpq-9yHtCtMMMZSU/s1600/A0037.JPG" height="400" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time of Grace 7/25/83 to 9/28/14</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"> When Mike was younger and before HIPPA we were asked many
times if we would talk to CF families with newly diagnosed children. Mike
always enjoyed this. He was always happy to share how he could swallow handfuls
of pills. He would share that he did his therapy every day. It was easy to see
that he was a happy child.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">There was a time we were asked if we would talk to a family,
but then the family really wasn’t ready. I remember that the couple who had
this child (she was 3-5) was an older couple. They both had children from
previous marriages and then together they had this precious little girl. Some
of the older siblings had children of their own. They all came – visibly upset.
The young girl seemed like she was doing really well, but this was a shock for
the family. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">When it came time to start the IV, the young girl was taken
to a treatment room. This was standard practice. Children never had to worry
that something would happen in their room. They were taken to a treatment room.
The little girl started to cry and the mom (who had been waiting outside)
grabbed the door to go in and found it locked. Her husband, knowing that she would
not be able to handle the situation, locked her out. She began to bang on the
treatment door. Mikey’s room was just across the hall. She finally stopped and
composed herself. She saw me and came into our room, “Why aren’t you freaking
out over this? Your son has CF!”</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><i>John 14:1 “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><i>trust also in me.” (Jesus speaking to his disciples)</i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieR3PTuxs_QaCctK-vTxNlQ2a-ACiLi2FI8cd5AdY_4BWDC5YWfnXNlT-eJc-ndQv1r3fv7d-1taVnErbSxAn7ffDfQEODf3LPEDJEbYZ4A_ZcJJyLdmcwpvoZ8FH3JXn7a6yUi9wv9ACZ/s1600/A0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieR3PTuxs_QaCctK-vTxNlQ2a-ACiLi2FI8cd5AdY_4BWDC5YWfnXNlT-eJc-ndQv1r3fv7d-1taVnErbSxAn7ffDfQEODf3LPEDJEbYZ4A_ZcJJyLdmcwpvoZ8FH3JXn7a6yUi9wv9ACZ/s1600/A0055.JPG" height="400" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My beautiful boy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I don’t know how others might react to difficult situations. I
only know what has always worked for me. Stand on the promises of God. It has
never failed me. When I look to anything else for comfort, hope and answers, I
am disappointed and feel alone. But when I look to God, I am held up. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">The night before Mike passed away we had some trouble with
his morphine pump. This was turned into a blessing because it brought Mary, the
hospice nurse, to our home. She fixed the morphine pump and assured us that
Mike was doing well. He had been up to go to the bathroom and even got on his
computer and phone.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">It was time for bed and having been told that we were at
least a day or so away from Mike’s last moments (as best as anyone could tell), I
decided that I needed to get some rest. Amy (God bless her) stayed in with Mike
and the rest of us went to bed. I took half a sleeping pill so I would at least
get a couple of hours of sleep.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">If you have read any of my past blog posts then you know
about Mikey’s plan. Well, despite my efforts to sleep and despite Mike’s will,
God moved forward with his perfect plan.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDiEOaYAZQLdkqax6Op7jb_6n2Mer78k7sicZFEsnpdeSssYf11mVjSz2oq6ZMl6UsCCHiMMBvMIIk7xwKiy4hVimHCK3PTTh9RRuGYeo1kLqBdj8yH5aM6IOnYwnjLRFT1RDADx6H7rj/s1600/A0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDiEOaYAZQLdkqax6Op7jb_6n2Mer78k7sicZFEsnpdeSssYf11mVjSz2oq6ZMl6UsCCHiMMBvMIIk7xwKiy4hVimHCK3PTTh9RRuGYeo1kLqBdj8yH5aM6IOnYwnjLRFT1RDADx6H7rj/s1600/A0062.JPG" height="320" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I miss him</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Early in the morning the batteries on the morphine pump
started to go out setting off an alarm that woke all of us up. I came in to
check on Mike and he was out. Even the irritating beeping IV didn’t rouse him.
Amy was calling the hospice number to find out how to fix it. I asked her to
make sure they would send someone. I didn’t want to lose the program and have
to redo it, because I wouldn’t know how. I decided I would take a shower
because I didn’t figure I would be able to go back to sleep. I anticipated that
hospice would be coming back soon.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Now, I want you to know that I don’t startle easily. I think
most people know that. I can maintain pretty well in a crisis situation. It was
interesting that all of the happenings of the previous several days made me
jumpy. I had just gotten out of the shower and was about to grab my bathrobe
when a VERY loud bang, bang, bang came on the door. I RUSHED out the door and
Amy said, “It’s Mike!”</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0lJujBxpqD9IF08Iwtdyw3Hg5S4Pg8odv_LDzgAMhi4YSKEpLKdf7IshE4avQR37mmPxZK3xZVasNozCGMxgYV0VXkFlwt5EdUj_ZkyeeH81blKkG_8iFcoZIdxbGCBKZFOa8ILIQmLm/s1600/A0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0lJujBxpqD9IF08Iwtdyw3Hg5S4Pg8odv_LDzgAMhi4YSKEpLKdf7IshE4avQR37mmPxZK3xZVasNozCGMxgYV0VXkFlwt5EdUj_ZkyeeH81blKkG_8iFcoZIdxbGCBKZFOa8ILIQmLm/s1600/A0049.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I ran to his room down the hall. I think I heard Amy or
someone say something about he had to get up to go to the bathroom. The door
was pretty much closed. I opened it just as his father was finishing helping
him adjust his pajama bottoms. Mike looked right at me and then fell backwards
on the bed. Not knowing yet what was happening I grabbed a syringe of morphine
and laid down next to him. He made a couple attempts at getting air - in small gasps. I started to reassure him that Jesus had done everything for
him . . . Katie walked into the room past me and around to his head on the bed. I was on Mike’s right side. His father on his left.
Mike picked up his head a bit and then turned it to the right and looked
directly up and past my head. Jesus was there in the room to take him home. But
Mike was still with us and I was puzzled as to why. And then I remembered . . . I
told Mike I would put his hand in Jesus’ hand and so I reached down and took
Mike’s hand. I looked back up at Mike and he never took another breath. He was
at peace. He was with his Savior.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I don’t believe it was Mike holding back in those last few moments.
I believe that Jesus gave me that last signal to let me know that he indeed was
there to take Mike home and I could let him go. It was beautiful. I was so
blessed to be in the room as my son was carried off to heaven. I am so
confident in where Mike is right now. And this brings me such comfort when I
miss him.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><i>Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><i>we hope for and
certain of what we do not see. </i></span></div>
</div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I did not get to see what Mike saw. But my faith tells me I
can be certain that heaven is real and that when we leave this world we will be
carried to heaven by our Savior. It gives me hope. Hope for a future in heaven
with my Savior. Hope that I will see Mike and Melinda and all those I love. Not
because of anything I have or haven’t done but because I have a Savior who came
and lived a perfect life for me and died and rose that I might live one day
with him. I believe this with all my heart.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqJJdfv2kA98oh5G2HULEvLj8xHCivR277M0sl0oDxWTj_qODnEk1ARTV6A4bfwmpXD7yK7s67UdCAwZXA8vvFC5rhh-6G_W-2XhESF_1QgnNI19NF054hNHFb9-vbMIgX56pxNmR2BPX/s1600/A0100AA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqJJdfv2kA98oh5G2HULEvLj8xHCivR277M0sl0oDxWTj_qODnEk1ARTV6A4bfwmpXD7yK7s67UdCAwZXA8vvFC5rhh-6G_W-2XhESF_1QgnNI19NF054hNHFb9-vbMIgX56pxNmR2BPX/s1600/A0100AA.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am so confident he is in heaven.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I have my days that are difficult. I miss my
Mikey. I do. But I know that this is a temporary thing. We are all asked to do
hard stuff. So many people are asked to do things way harder than what I’ve had
to. All I can do is continue to serve and glorify my God. I trust in him
completely. Even to take away my pain. He does that with his promises of a perfect heaven
when all this earthly stuff is finished. It brings me peace and joy and hope.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I hope it does for you too.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Blessings to you!</span></span></span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-56059906433030922462014-10-25T10:09:00.002-05:002014-10-25T11:24:17.471-05:00It is me - Melinda<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I ran into Melinda (literally) at a Christmas party for
chronically ill kids at the Children’s hospital Mike was being seen at in
Texas. She was scooting around in a wheelchair and we ran into each other as
she spun around. She whispered something like, “bitch” under her breath and
took off in the other direction. She left an impression. I asked around about
her. This was back before HIPPA laws.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">She was absolutely beautiful. She was 15 years old with long
dark hair, fair complexion and a very spunky spirit. I was told she had Cystic Fibrosis.
Mike wasn’t hospitalized as much back then but 2-3 times a year so I got to
know Melinda because she was in quite a bit. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Melinda would tell me about how she didn’t like being in the
hospital because there was no one at home to take care of her little brother
when she was inpatient. She worried about her mother too. She needed to take
care of her also. Melinda was the caretaker in the home. She never mentioned
her father.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">She was so sick. I wanted to motivate her. I adored
her. I wanted her to get better. We would talk about treatments and things. One
time she was particularly sick and she said to me, “Do you<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>. . . do chest PT . . . for your son?” She
was having a hard time breathing and talking. I replied, “Oh, yes every day. At
least two times a day. More when he is sick.” “Good,” she said, “because no one
ever did it for me and now I am like this.” My heart broke. I started to do her
chest PT when I was there to visit.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I never ran into her mother all the times I visited Melinda.
I found out that her mother was a prostitute and things started to make sense.
I really didn’t know much more than that because Melinda didn’t talk about her
much. We talked about dreams that Melinda had and things she wanted to do. She
wanted to learn to play piano. She liked music. A secret admirer gave her a
keyboard for Christmas along with a warm jacket because she was worried about
going home for a few days because it was so cold.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Teresa Ris and I would decorate her room for whatever
holiday she would be spending in the hospital. I know we decorated for her
sweet 16 and I think also for St. Patrick’s Day. She always enjoyed that so
much. It seemed like I was always finding kids that needed help while Mikey was
in the hospital. The women in my neighborhood were great about rallying
resources to meet their needs or give them a little treat. I wondered if Lyn Prz
and Teresa Ris would ever tire of my requests but they never did. Bless those
women.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I remember the day I was pulled aside by a nurse and told
that Melinda was in end-stage CF. I didn’t understand what that meant. She wasn’t
going to get better I was told – she was nearing the end. I would go visit her
every day after I took Mikey and Katie to school. The day came when I got a
phone call that Melinda didn’t have much more time. I had 20 – 25 women at my
house. We were talking about starting a service league in our area. I motioned
for Teresa to come over and I told her what was happening. I said I had to go.
Teresa took over and I left.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Melinda was struggling for every breath when I got there. It was
heartbreaking. She was sleeping/not conscious. When she woke
up she told me she had a bad headache. I looked on her table and I saw a pile
of pills. I called someone in and they said she hadn’t taken them. I insisted
they crush them and put them in her feeding tube. Shortly after that a woman
appeared with a man. In short order with all the wailing I realized it was
Melinda’s mother. I didn’t know who the large man with her was but he made me nervous.
He just sat in a chair in the corner and didn’t say a word.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I left that day and came back the next day. By then Melinda
was struggling even harder. The mother and the man were still there. Melinda
was in and out of consciousness and it was hard to hear and understand her when
she would talk. When she would wake up and try to speak her mother would start
wailing and yelling and telling Melinda to speak up. Her (Melinda’s mom) I love
yous were heartfelt and often. It was obvious Melinda was trying to communicate
something. She would point at me no matter where I was in the room. I knew she
wanted to talk to me and I so desperately wanted to talk to her. I came closer.
This mother was so distraught. She wouldn’t budge from Melinda’s side. I was
sitting on Melinda’s right side and she could barely raise her finger and she
pointed at me again. With great effort she raised her chest and got enough air
to expel, “I yove yew”. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but I believe that was for me
but as I moved closer her mother grabbed her and said, “Oh, baby, I love you too . . .”</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I didn’t want to make a scene. The man scared me. I wanted
to take nothing away from this distraught mother. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I said nothing. NOTHING</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">And that is why I am telling you this story. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">My heart was bursting in pain. I loved Melinda and I never
told her. I was trying not to cross any lines with her (these are the excuses I used to console myself). I treated her like my
own daughter but she wasn’t mine. I would go visit her and we talked about
everything of secondary importance but not what was most important. I never
witnessed to her verbally. I never told her I loved her. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I left the hospital shortly after that, as it was time to go
to school and pick up Mike and Katie. I never saw Melinda alive again. There
was a short obituary in the paper. It gave the address of the funeral home and
hours of visitation. It also listed the church where her funeral service would
be held the day after the visitation. I got in my car planning to be at the
visitation when it opened. I got horribly lost in Ft. Worth. It took me an
extra hour and a half to get there. I found the room that her visitation was said
to be in. The room was empty. But at the front of the room was a casket and
there was Melinda – just like I met her – all alone.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I looked around and couldn’t even find a funeral director.
This place was desolate. I walked over to Melinda. She looked so peaceful and as
beautiful as ever. She had on a beautiful red velvet dress that was about 2-3
sizes too small. My heart was broken. I was sick with thoughts of should haves.
I told her I loved her and said good-bye. </span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">The next day I went to the funeral. You can’t even imagine
my relief to see the hospital chaplain there conducting a beautiful service in
coordination with another pastor. Melinda had picked out all the hymns and
Bible verses herself. I was so relieved. Melinda was in heaven and I know I
will see her again.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">So . . .It is me that I spoke about in my last post. I know
what it is like to love someone and hold back telling them until it is too
late. <u>IT HURTS</u>. I have never regretted telling someone I love them. There have
been times when telling someone that has led to misunderstandings but I have no
regrets. But each time I have held back - the regret is unsettling. I am very
fortunate that I will get to see Melinda again and when I do I will grab her in
my arms and give her the biggest hug ever and tell her how much I LOVE HER!</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">There is another reason I share this story. Part of this is
to help spread CF awareness. Shortly before Mike passed away he told his
sister, “I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought they would find a
cure by now.”</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Melinda passed away at 16 years old. My son passed away at
31. Please help us find a cure so no one else has to endure this dreadful
disease. We are getting closer. Thank you for your help. Thank you to all those
who continue this fight against Cystic Fibrosis. So much progress has been
made. Donations to CF help bring more tomorrows for these kids. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">I miss my little Mikey. I am healing. I hope to post more about that tomorrow. </span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri; font-size: large;">Blessings to you! Love it forward - while it is day :)</span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-90126935718817131632014-10-19T10:59:00.000-05:002014-10-20T21:34:05.517-05:00We Never Whispered Death Away<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Mike and I have always talked about death openly. I
decided a long time ago that we would not whisper about death at our house. It
would have been hard to. We have lost many friends with CF along the way. The
first one whom Mike was close to passed when Mike was only about 5. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Go <a href="http://ginathies.blogspot.com/2010/06/am-i-going-to-die-from-cf.html" target="_blank">here to read about the first time Mike and I talked about CF and dying</a>. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I will recap part of that here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I was folding clothes and putting them away in Mike’s
dresser drawers. It was just an ordinary day. Mike was in no particular
distress. He was 7 years old. I will never forget this day. Mike was sitting on
his bed fidgeting with something in his hands and he said, “Mom, am I going to
die from CF?” I felt the familiar stab of pain in my chest, my head scrambled
to find the words… I had thought about this before….even anticipated it to some
degree….but not now, not yet, my son wasn’t really thinking that this fatal
disease could actually kill him was he?? Or was he? Not missing a beat I
continued to place clothes in his drawer and appear to be unscathed by his
question (I learned this trick from my Aunt Cheryl). “Well, I don’t know Mike,” I began to reply, “none of us really knows
how or when we’re going to die. There are lots of ways people die. Some people
die from cancer, some people die in car accidents and some people die from CF.
What do you think, Mike?” By now I had stopped what I was doing and was sitting
next to him on the bed. “Well," Mike began apprehensively, "I don’
know but sometimes I just think that I’m gonna, choke and choke and choke like
this (made these horrible gasping sounds) until I just can’t breathe anymore
and then I die.” How did he know at 7?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Over the years I have always promised Mike that I would be
completely honest with him about the progression of his disease. Even though
his learning disabilities created challenges in relaying information, he knew I
would never withhold anything. Once he was an adult I was very careful
as to when to intervene and when to back away. I know I wasn’t perfect and
never had the expectation that I could be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I was there for pretty much every nasty procedure Mike had
to endure. I don’t know how Mike got through them all. The strength he had was truly amazing. His guardian angel was definitely on OT
most of the time. God gave me strength too. There was one particular time when
I had a really hard time.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Mike would get bowel obstructions and they were nasty – he was
about 10 years old. Back in the day the thought was that you shouldn’t give
CFers any pain meds because that slowed down their breathing and their gut. It
was a total obstruction and Mike had eaten a ton of food (as all CF kids need
to) thinking that the initial pain was just the normal constant hunger. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">The treatment was to put a rather large tube down his nose
and into his stomach to suck some of the stuff out and then pump in the
golytley. On a normal kid putting that tube down would be hard enough but with
Mike it took on new levels of difficult. Mike had horrible polyps in his
sinuses. They tried to put the tube down a couple times without success. All
without pain meds. The thought of this makes me cringe still today. He was
already in so much pain from the obstruction that he was groaning/screaming out
in pain. This is the only time he ever vocalized any discomfort in all the
years of CF and for him to do THAT you knew the pain was excruciating. Having
to sit up and tilt his head back while his stomach throbbed was bad enough.
Then he had to endure the tube being shoved down his nose through the polyps,
past his gag reflex and into his tummy. The tube was so large they were having
a hard time getting it past the back of his throat. When they went to pull the
tube back out on the third or fourth try all this stuff shot out along with
blood. I couldn’t hold back a few tears. Mikey looked up at me with this
shocked look and said, "Mom are you crying or did some of that stuff shoot you in
the eye?!"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I could hear in his voice and see in his eye he was looking
at me to see if he was going to be OK. He was scared when he thought I was
scared or upset. I said, “Yes, that really got me in the face, Mikey" (and it
had so I didn’t lie). He immediately relaxed. You could physically see the
difference. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><em>James 1 :12 Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has </em></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><em>stood the test he will receive the crown of life which God has promised to those who love him.</em></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">So that was the role I took on as his caregiver. Mike was
such a brave kid. He asked for a couple of things. 1) To always be told the
truth. 2) No surprises. If something was going to be painful then tell him up front. 3)
Tell him how long it would take. No surprises. If any of these things didn’t happen he
was not a happy camper. If you told him, well they need to peel off all your
skin with a tweezers and it is going to take 4 ½ hours and it is going to hurt
like heck for two weeks until it grows back because doing that will help you
get better, then if that is what truly happened then he would endure it.
Totally random over the top example but you get my drift. The kid was tough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">During Mike’s final round this role of mine took on a whole
new level of difficult. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">When Mike went in to the hospital this last time he was
really sick. Things were different. He was reluctant to go back. He said, “There
isn’t anything they can do.” I knew to respect him. He waited - trying to
get better without IV intervention for a few more days. By the time he went in
(which was only days since he had last been in) he was pretty sick. I went back
and forth to the hospital to check on him and talk with doctors. On Sunday he
had conversations with his father and me about his funeral and being buried. I
wrote the blog post about the final round to keep people up to date and also
because I knew Mike needed to understand fully where things were.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I left that night because he wanted his girlfriend Amy to
stay there with him. I went to work the next morning to let my boss know I was
going to need some time off and head back to Madison. Before I could get in to
see my boss I got a phone call from Brooke. She had a hard time waking him up
and did the CO2 level and it was over 80. I asked her how long she thought he
had and she told me 48 hours if things didn't change. I called Big Mike and headed back to Madison.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhwADixMyYsx0UPaiSXmU1IlQsO_8jW-I3G8oec9MJ_dDbQdCD_3cG5EO-buYdldG8U2Z_SQcLqwmUHgleOBM8-jJKyLEUedHi-43b0q15tArflqO_mjXrpbd-UzQaZoXuon9eitJ7HLf/s1600/Me+and+Mike+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhwADixMyYsx0UPaiSXmU1IlQsO_8jW-I3G8oec9MJ_dDbQdCD_3cG5EO-buYdldG8U2Z_SQcLqwmUHgleOBM8-jJKyLEUedHi-43b0q15tArflqO_mjXrpbd-UzQaZoXuon9eitJ7HLf/s1600/Me+and+Mike+7.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Mike was sleeping on his bipap when I got there and I woke
him up. I told him what Brooke had told me. He starred into my eyes and pushed
his finger downward meaning now? I shook my head yes. He looked down for a
moment and nodded his head. Then he picked up his phone and started texting.
Again, the events of that Monday are for another blog post at another time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Katie came, Big Mike came, Van Deurzen’s came, Amy came back, the Brothers came,
it was a very emotional day. Men and women weeping over and with Mike as they
came to say good-bye. All except me. I didn’t want to s<u>mother</u> Mike. The
word mother does not start with an s. I gave people space so they could be
alone with Mike. Paul and the boys waited like everyone else to get their
chance to get in to see Mike.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">But at the end of the day, when he was really tired, he
could barely raise his arm and he motioned for me to come over to him. I had to
get really close because I could barely hear him he was so quiet. I thought
finally, I will get my moment with Mike. I put my ear next to his mouth and he
said, “Mom, if I take the pain medicine am I going to die?” I reassured him, “No
Mike. It will just make you more comfortable.” He nodded his head and
continued, “Mom, if I go to sleep am I going to wake back up?” “Absolutely!” I
reassured him. He said, “Oh, OK, thanks mom. Love you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">That is when I knew I wouldn’t get my “moment” with Mike. I
was OK with that. Mike and I had shared many moments. He knew how I felt about
him. I knew I had said everything I needed to say and he knew how I felt. I know how much Mike loved me too. I had resolved myself to the fact that if I never got another "moment" I would be OK. If I wasn't there at the end God would take care of Mikey. I would be whatever he needed me to be. He
drifted off into sleep.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNUFhfCUvZUeoIpfSQEt44njkzpOQH6_ABRx2fpwYzJ1RrmnirSChLgeCXbh_C3WsS_p1WcVmp8h8fr2NZlVxmQ6Ai43fFwGckCm6H37Fxm88-BGLxodreWRityaZqVJeMz7ITYb6YqoV/s1600/Me+and+Mike+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnNUFhfCUvZUeoIpfSQEt44njkzpOQH6_ABRx2fpwYzJ1RrmnirSChLgeCXbh_C3WsS_p1WcVmp8h8fr2NZlVxmQ6Ai43fFwGckCm6H37Fxm88-BGLxodreWRityaZqVJeMz7ITYb6YqoV/s1600/Me+and+Mike+4.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">We all got plenty of time to talk to Mikey over the next few
days. He made his decision to come home and things took on an even deeper level
of difficult. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I had researched Hospice months earlier when Mike shared
with me his wishes to die at home. I wanted to be prepared. I couldn’t find a
hospice who had ever dealt with a CFer. That concerned me. I knew the level of
care it would take to keep Mike comfortable and I knew that would fall on my
shoulders. Hospice at home is not what most people think it is. Another post
for another day.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I was thankful I didn’t have to do this alone. Mike’s father
stayed with me every step of the way. My hubby Paul opened his arms and his home to all. The Van Deurzens, Milners and Thiesfeldts
and the Brothers all worked together. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I was the nurse in charge of meds. Big Mike was a huge
comfort to Mikey. He would also help Mikey move from his room to the bathroom
and anything else he needed. He also got to be his Dad and Mikey needed that.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">It wasn’t easy keeping track of meds while a million other
things were going on in my house and my young boys were there. Thankfully, Gail
and Fred came and took David. I was exhausted and couldn’t concentrate beyond
Mikey and meds. Richard stayed at a friend’s house. It was homecoming week of
his freshman year.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">When Mike would fall asleep there was always the question of
whether or not he would wake up again. He would look at me after the nurse
would leave and ask me if anything changed. How much more time. Was he still
OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would reassure him and be honest.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">At one point as he was waking up his father was sitting on
his left side and I was sitting on his right side. I said I love you Mike and
his father said, I love you buddy and I continued, so, so much. He popped his
eyes open, “Why are you talking like that! Am I dying?!!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">OW, now I couldn’t even say I love you without him getting
anxious. His friends, his father – everyone else could come in and talk and
laugh and weep and say a million I love yous and he was fine. But if I even
looked cross eyed at him he was agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I laughed and replied to him, “Well, because it is my turn!
Everyone else gets to come in and talk to you and now it is my turn!” He
relaxed. </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEnDtGRo-YmO37nE4hsQGxGUXcWq194FAtZ4ucQAS5eqW9ZTu9nkbl20ad7gvYasbWHBwVtuJ8DslOZ8qghV6lFDVWHrIecHskw7eoxC65fplnU1u1BSUCOXzIhYTrkuyOFpMMCtKd4-I/s1600/Me+and+Mike+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEnDtGRo-YmO37nE4hsQGxGUXcWq194FAtZ4ucQAS5eqW9ZTu9nkbl20ad7gvYasbWHBwVtuJ8DslOZ8qghV6lFDVWHrIecHskw7eoxC65fplnU1u1BSUCOXzIhYTrkuyOFpMMCtKd4-I/s1600/Me+and+Mike+10.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Sometime Friday a nurse came and told me she thought it wouldn’t
be very long. I told Mike and he got understandably anxious. There was medicine
to help him with that. I knew the role I needed to play and it was difficult.
He and Brooke and I had a plan that he would not be tormented in pain during
his final hours. Yet, he didn’t want to be all foggy either. I knew at some
point CO2 levels would rise and he wouldn’t wake up. I knew that the horrible
coughing was causing pain. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Mike was up and about answering Facebook messages and texts.
That made him relaxed. Amy stayed with him and read things to him. When he
would wake up no matter what time of night Brian, Art, Scott or Bear or one of the other
brothers or friends would come over to talk to him. He was content when he knew
people were waiting to comfort him. (Love modern technology that allows a quick
call or text to get people at your door so quickly Mike thought they were in
the backyard waiting ;) – sometimes they were back there and sometimes they
were just a text message away).<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I was concerned that if Mike was in his last few hours that
his focus needed to be spiritual. I watched him while he slept and prayed every
minute. Thousands prayed, Pastors came, his Aunts Sue and Kathy would pray the Rosary over him as well. When he
would wake up I would say, “Well, you are sleepy. You took a little nap.” I
would ask if he needed anything for pain and his dad would be there too. I told him, “Mike, everything you need to do here
is done. You need to focus on the cross now. Don’t think about anything you
have done. Jesus did it all for you. You can just rest now Mikey, everything is
done.” And Mike would fall back to sleep. Everyone continued to pray. People
would come and go and sit next to Mike and pray. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGo710pU6oRGnR8JO859XI-SYbNJsWMKQ0yGKxfybTxS52KdiujYDazC0CZwvdsVr_2iX7z2FLGX8EwxPlQRbLCBA_iFUypuXT1zQf_IQdRJKA4STQy6qM1Dkr4-vWW2bjB0xaZlflTlW/s1600/Me+and+Mike+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGo710pU6oRGnR8JO859XI-SYbNJsWMKQ0yGKxfybTxS52KdiujYDazC0CZwvdsVr_2iX7z2FLGX8EwxPlQRbLCBA_iFUypuXT1zQf_IQdRJKA4STQy6qM1Dkr4-vWW2bjB0xaZlflTlW/s1600/Me+and+Mike+12.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">He slept soundly for several hours. I didn’t think he would
ever wake up again and be conscious. But he did. He woke up and I repeated what
I said before. I wasn’t sure how awake he would get. Again, not knowing where
his CO2 levels were there was always the question as to how clear his head
would be. Well it was clear and he said, “Stop telling me to rest. I don’t want
to sleep. What time is it? What day is it?” He was agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I have been bedside in this circumstance before. I knew that
level of agitation. I knew the coming in and out of deep sleep. Coherent one
minute and out the next. Between the stress of the situation, the drugs and the
fluctuating CO2 levels – there is no telling what could happen. Mike was
distraught and he was going to take it out on me. This became the hardest
moment of my life. I wanted to just suck it up and take it but I am human. I
realized that if I just let this go he may pass with a rift between us. I
couldn’t bare it. I asked everyone to leave the room. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I said, “Mike, I know this is hard. I can’t imagine what you
are going through right now. I am here trying to fulfill every request you
have. I am also trying to be your nurse and figure out how best to treat your pain
and anxiety. I know if you were in Madison and I was your nurse you would have
me fired because I suck at this." I paused and he kind of chuckled. I continued, “I’m
just trying to do the best I can because I love you. But Mike, if you need me
to find someone else to do this I will do that. I will teach someone else as
quickly as I can. I want to do whatever it is that you need to make you
comfortable and if I make you uncomfortable then we can change this up.” “No!
no, I'm sorry Mom.” “I’m just so confused” he said as he grabbed his head because
he had another really bad headache. “I just thought I had more time,” and he
hung his head and I held him. “I know Mike, I know...” In a way that was our
moment. The only moment I received that I got to step out of the role of being
his nurse, the grim reaper and counselor and just be his mom. I am so thankful
that I had that moment. God knew we both needed it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Mikey was relaxed as long as his Dad and I were there and there
were people coming and going and text messages to be answered and Pastors giving him reminders of God's promises. So that is how it
went. Mary a new hospice nurse came a little later. She was such a
blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From then on we told him he
was doing great and he had more time. At this point only God truly knew his
timing. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">So it was a blessing for us that we never whispered about
death. If we had we would have missed out on all of these opportunities and
blessings that we received that helped Mike pass from this life to eternal
life. I am thankful that I have taken the opportunities to live life while
thinking about mortality. It made the conversations we had at the end flow
freely. Mike was able to tell us what he wanted in advance and we were able to
carry those out as best we could. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Many times I see people wait until the very last second to
say there I love yous and good-byes. They want to make sure that it is really
the final moment before they say them. As if to say them sooner will somehow not
have the same meaning or will have the wrong focus. That telling someone how
you feel about them or how much you will miss them takes away their hope. I don’t know
if that is true. I’m sure it could in some circumstances. I’m sure it is true if you have never
talked about these things and then wait until the final round to start talking
about them. I guess what I am saying is Mike lived many of his days as if they
were his last. He thought about his death. He thought about what others would
remember or not remember, what kind of an impact he would make and he talked
about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wrote about it also. I am
finding those notes from Mike now and I will share some of them with you in
time. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">For me, writing about what I experienced is helping me heal. I also want to keep these memories for my young boys to read when they are older. They may go through something similar and learn from this experience. I learned so much from watching my mom go through a similar experience when my brother passed away.
I am not</span> writing an all-encompassing journal of events that happened. I can
only write from my perspective because I can only tell my story. To try and say
what Mikey or Katie or Big Mike were thinking or feeling during all of this
would not be my place. But I also never want to diminish the impact of how much
Mikey needed them and the important role they played during his final round.
Mike needed everyone that showed up and/or prayed for him. I am so thankful God
sent so many people to help us get through all of this. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I also write to continue the fight that Mikey started. The fight against Cystic Fibrosis. Through sharing pieces of his story I hope to share CF awareness with others. This is not just an insignificant disease that makes people die young. There is so much unseen suffering that is endured on a daily basis. Like most CFers we hid most of it. The silence can be deafening. I will continue to speak in pursuit of a cure. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">I am very comforted by the words of encouragement I have
received from many of you. I just reread Uncle Buck’s message to me. Thank you
for your kind words. There was a man, I think he was a brother that stopped me
shortly before I left the luncheon after Mike’s funeral. He said I was Mike’s rock
and talked to me. I wish I could remember his words. This brain fog during
stress like this creates significant lapses at times. Thank you to everyone who
is sharing their pieces of Mikey with me now. It was so hard to carry out the
role I was asked to carry.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Momsters, this role I played that I wrote about today is
just that, my role. It was tough. I know each of you have your own unique role according to your situation. My role was what Mike and I needed. You will carry out your
role perfectly, according to God’s plan. Trust in Him. He will see you through
your journey. He will give you strength. On this side of CF and on the other
side also. It is my prayer that your other side of CF will be after a cure is
found and there is no more CF. Not the side of CF I am now on. God bless your
journey.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">My girlfriend Amy shared this with me:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><span class="fsl3"><span lang="EN" style="line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">"You
die on one day," a hospice chaplain said, "During one moment of one
day. All the rest is living!"</span></span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Love it forward. Tell someone how much they mean to you
today. Send that note or card that tells someone special how much you care.
Today, while you are living this life. Love, love, love.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/uRNFf3ykQvM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="color: black;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: black;">Blessings to you!</span></span></div>
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-24880347428348824992014-10-15T21:55:00.000-05:002014-10-16T07:40:52.744-05:00Never Alone<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">The Bible tells us that we never have to be alone. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Joshua 1:5 No one will be able to stand against you<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5857A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5857A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> all the days of your life. As I was with<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5857B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5857B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5857C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5857C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup> you.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">I love this passage in scripture. It is taken from passages where God is telling Joshua that he will lead an army into the promised land. He tells him "No one will be able to stand against you!" He tells Joshua before he even goes to war, that he will come out of it unharmed. He will win the victory. I'm sure Joshua was still scared at times. I'm sure what he had to do was still difficult. He still had to go forward and fight. But I'm sure in the back of his head was always the promise God gave him . . .that no one will be able to stand against him and he would never be alone. Joshua would be the one to remain standing. Do you think it made Joshua live and fight differently?</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike knew that same promise. Whenever I asked him, "Mike, if you died tonight, what would happen to you?"</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Looks at me strangely - "Well, I'd go to heaven," he says very confidently but annoyed (Moms can be annoying like that - when we ask the same question several times over a period of time).</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mom: "Why will you get to go to heaven?"</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike: In a tone like he is saying, well, daaahhhh mom, he says, "Because Jesus died for my sins." And then I would get a big smile on my face. Yep, never a second thought.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Just a few verses later in Joshua 1:9 "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid;<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5861A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5861A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> do not be discouraged,<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5861B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5861B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God will be with you wherever you go.”</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">I can remember a time when Katie and Mike were about 4 and 5 years old. They would fight to get to sit in the front seat next to mom. No car seats back then. One day while Mike was sulking in the back seat because Katie got to the front seat first, Katie turned to him and said, "Don't worry Mikey! You're not alone back there, Jesus is with you!" Yep, my kids knew they were never alone. They had heard these Bible stories since they were infants.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">As Pastor Naumann assured us in the sermon at Mike's funeral: </span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><em>Mike had the confident hope of knowing where he
was going. When I visited him last Friday, I asked him if there was anything he
was afraid of. He looked at me, and he said-well I just want to be sure that my
brothers can be my pall bearers and if they could wear their vests at church-is
that gonna be OK? I said absolutely. He said-then there is this procession from
the church to the cemetery-can they ride in that procession-it’s going to be
really loud? I said-I can’t wait to hear it Mike. No problem. But that’s all
the service-we can take care of that, but what about you-is there anything you
are afraid of? Mike said, “I hope my mom is going to be OK after I’m gone.” I
said, she has a great family and great friends-and an even better Lord that are
all going to help her get through this. But Mike what about you- is there anything you
are afraid of-anything I can explain from the scriptures of what’s going to
happen when you die. He said-No-I’m good-I got Jesus. He’s just going to come
and get me.” I said, yes He is Mike, yes he is. Mike was one incredible guy.</em></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><em></em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em>Mike knew that he had won the race. He may have lost the
battle with Cystic Fibrosis-but he won the War when he got the crown and
inherited heaven’s home.</em> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;">________<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">
</span><span class="passage-display-bcv"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike didn't like being alone for certain things. He let you know it. He didn't want to be alone for surgeries - he had too many to count. Once I didn't go down for something that was supposed to be routine and of course everything that could go wrong did go wrong. That is another blog post for another day.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">He didn't mind being in the hospital alone sometimes. Many of the staff became like family to him. He especially liked it when friends and family came to visit.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">But there were times when he would request to be alone. Too tired to communicate or too peopled out and just needed down time. He'd let you know.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">Before Mike passed away he requested to not be left alone until he was buried. Many people helped to honor this request of Mike's. From the moment he sent this SOS text to his brother Dog:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQicD3pXoPKUj5qJTnLoGzznYLAA_okYrN_UzONyNpwD4nmpjPhLHZ34J7erXER2qfHg5xHu52eVBCbNhPlyMewMHFqg-2LSsC1AxiLvK__OaTbDrVLzWWKAY1HmZ-ih6fIXj_Fjv2VhY0/s1600/SOS+to+Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQicD3pXoPKUj5qJTnLoGzznYLAA_okYrN_UzONyNpwD4nmpjPhLHZ34J7erXER2qfHg5xHu52eVBCbNhPlyMewMHFqg-2LSsC1AxiLvK__OaTbDrVLzWWKAY1HmZ-ih6fIXj_Fjv2VhY0/s1600/SOS+to+Dog.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<span class="passage-display-bcv"></span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;">It reads: Please come to the UW Hospital. I need you brother.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Within hours there would be so many people there to see Mikey that the hospital would be talking about it for days. Not just because most of the people who worked there knew Mike, but because of the heartfelt outpouring of love that we all were blessed to witness. Van Deurzens, Thiesfeldts, Kratzs, Milners, Brothers, dancers, friends and many, many hospital staff members lined up to support Mike during his final round...to tell him how much he meant to them and to say good-bye. They held up Mike's arms until Jesus came. The events of that Monday are for a blog post on another day.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Within minutes after Mike passed, his Brothers came to fulfill their promise. They promised Mike he would not be alone until he was buried.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike went from his father and me to the hands of his first cousin Derek Van Deurzen. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Derek is a Funeral Director at Verkuilen Funeral Home in Little Chute. He had the opportunity to speak with Mike the week before and knew exactly what Mike wanted. He came and with the Brothers, lovingly carried Mike out of our home.</span> <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7C0PLt6-QE8Jrv_RHk_bdMuMm8XuNjxcdgxDJKTveuiT2JSZLwGhvIqlSy0GYfRFlqdqaaKA8cNOxkAC-Qx8pd6CKYE8ujTLjuhthTs63hTDB4NRzzTUBwHAs-Pp9VA9dizSujUqEseRN/s1600/IMG_8967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7C0PLt6-QE8Jrv_RHk_bdMuMm8XuNjxcdgxDJKTveuiT2JSZLwGhvIqlSy0GYfRFlqdqaaKA8cNOxkAC-Qx8pd6CKYE8ujTLjuhthTs63hTDB4NRzzTUBwHAs-Pp9VA9dizSujUqEseRN/s1600/IMG_8967.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">With all the professionalism of someone owning their own funeral home (he will own one soon), Derek took care of Mike.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">With all the love that only a first cousin can give, he took care of Mike.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDZU9zL7WoV_GfGd0QD-PSVsCareDOXRqD7IMK07ybDgmf7xfKLsyATBVI3B2Zzd_kiLhwWMRBqxEWQdNw-i4iFGt9DrilXzLPd_5JNae4vAafCEa5ojhvcqmN3WqJlhcukSgStP-jHRG/s1600/IMG_8978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDZU9zL7WoV_GfGd0QD-PSVsCareDOXRqD7IMK07ybDgmf7xfKLsyATBVI3B2Zzd_kiLhwWMRBqxEWQdNw-i4iFGt9DrilXzLPd_5JNae4vAafCEa5ojhvcqmN3WqJlhcukSgStP-jHRG/s1600/IMG_8978.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I don't know how he did it, but he did. I can't even imagine how difficult this was for him. He was very close to Mike.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And then Mike left.</span><br />
<br />
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<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">But not alone.</span><br />
<br />
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<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">The Brothers went too. They never left him. Derek was there by day and the Brothers were there by night...until he was buried up in Little Chute five days later. To keep a promise. Because promises are important.</span> <br />
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<br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike wasn't alone. He was up in heaven having a great time dancing and singing and praising God for keeping all His promises. And down here on earth Derek and Mike's Brothers from the THMC were busy keeping their promises too.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">God is so good.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Some days I look back at all of this and it is hard to be sad.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I am so blessed. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Thank you God for keeping all your promises. It makes my heart happy. It gives me hope. I have joy.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I hope you all do too.</span><br />
<span class="passage-display-bcv" style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="passage-display-bcv"><span class="passage-display-bcv">Deuteronomy 31:6 </span>"Be strong and courageous.<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5735A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5735A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God goes with you;<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5735C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5735C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup> he will never leave you<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5735D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5735D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> nor forsake<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-5735E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-5735E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup> you.”</span><span class="passage-display-bcv"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Blessings to you.</span><span class="passage-display-bcv"> </span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-14808526583620868532014-10-13T00:43:00.002-05:002014-10-13T00:48:40.185-05:00It was a tough day MomstersI guess some days will be like that. . . tougher than others<br />
<br />
For no apparent reason. . .<br />
<br />
I went to church and it was wonderful. Pat S is always so kind and supportive. Bless her.<br />
<br />
I miss Mike.<br />
<br />
I thought about how he always coped. I got busy. Stayed on task.<br />
<br />
My number one coping mechanism through all of this has been and is thankfulness. Thinking about things I'm thankful for and writing them down. I still struggled.<br />
<br />
Went into work. <br />
<br />
Nothing helped.<br />
<br />
Just a tough day . . .<br />
<br />
Psalm 23 came to me.<br />
<br />
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. . .<br />
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me . . .<br />
<br />
I started to feel comforted. I could imagine what my Savior would say to me. . .<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gina, you didn't trust me. I told you I would work all this out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know, I know, God.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You worried and you didn't need to. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know, I know, God. You were right.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Instead of trusting in Me you trusted in other things.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yea, that was really dumb, God.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Do you trust me now? Do you trust me to take that pain? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You know only I can take away that kind of pain, don't you?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, I do. I've seen you do it before God.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And, hey God, thanks for gently nudging me with your rod and your </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
staff and not beating me over the head with it. I know I would deserve it.</div>
<br />
That's what went through my head. Along with forgiveness. I know I am forgiven. <br />
That's a cool God thing.<br />
<br />
And then I thought about Mike again and how he always coped. I did the phone a friend like he did. <br />
<br />
I feel so much better tonight.<br />
<br />
And now I will leave you with something that is sure to make you smile. It does me :)<br />
<br />
If you don't want to listen to the whole thing scroll to the 2:30 mark :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyOIhqavv5YrkIgqxzjevrJotmQfSaLtWdrs8RpBeFVDN4bA1pi1y52x5qBYEvBSd9z0PXA6ePr4ZOKjzXIxQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
My little David . . .singing for his brother, one last time.<br />
God is so good! Blessings to you.<br />
Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-69937174609832002032014-10-10T23:15:00.000-05:002014-10-25T11:25:09.201-05:00Mikey Comes Home<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">My sister was over this past weekend. She had been in Florida to see her son Gary (the Green Beret) who recently returned home from serving in South America when all this happened with Mikey. It was hard for her to be so far away and try and follow what was going on. I know she prayed constantly. Thankfully, she made it home in time to say good-bye to Mike. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">She was helping me collect addresses for my thank you notes and as we were talking she made a comment about the Brother that brought Mike home from the hospital. I don't remember how she said it but I remember thinking something was odd. She asked something like how did he hold on. I said well he's trained to know how to hold someone sick. Terri said, "Yes, but all that way . . ." I looked at her funny and then realized that she thought Mike came home on the back of a motorcycle! LOL </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">So to alleviate any rumors ;) I thought I would tell you all how this came about.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">The story of how we got to the point that Mike requested to come home is a whole other blog post for another day. We will start here with the decision that Mike had made to come home to die.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIDUGcgUmNMZsLn2ugXUqMW9wn1Cr_EzMxWJGzXGToknFq0NKg6P3AAkD4B_lpefA4v6VgyYuUqz31v6F7XHnihJgGrfyamn_sbnRz4L-gyY9Yi37pF4HdjxQKR7QMxBGfC8fuE159hdZ/s1600/blIMG_20140923_175951425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUIDUGcgUmNMZsLn2ugXUqMW9wn1Cr_EzMxWJGzXGToknFq0NKg6P3AAkD4B_lpefA4v6VgyYuUqz31v6F7XHnihJgGrfyamn_sbnRz4L-gyY9Yi37pF4HdjxQKR7QMxBGfC8fuE159hdZ/s1600/blIMG_20140923_175951425.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma comes to say good-bye to Mikey.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Brooke, his NP knew Mike's wishes. She had the day off but arranged to get everything moving as quickly as possible. Timing was very important.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">To fully understand what happened you need to know that Mike has spent years of his life inpatient at UW Madison. YEARS. I stopped counting after 5 full years of inpatient status. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6gW2zfIUfJmwx2cXQs1cwFu4J1u_3vYNUEd7BBqUhX08K5g6gmuYWui59tmmusXJXunpMlNWAKk4GF5y6rR4i98fx4j9U4DxSH0SJ5Wz7GxXh9fTAPqt-JnKdkX-pR1afbMM9GboZC2J/s1600/blIMG_20140923_241107499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6gW2zfIUfJmwx2cXQs1cwFu4J1u_3vYNUEd7BBqUhX08K5g6gmuYWui59tmmusXJXunpMlNWAKk4GF5y6rR4i98fx4j9U4DxSH0SJ5Wz7GxXh9fTAPqt-JnKdkX-pR1afbMM9GboZC2J/s1600/blIMG_20140923_241107499.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing cards with his favorite nurse for the very last time. They both had a good cry <br />
together and then they did what they always did - they lived fully.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I can honestly say that probably about 95% or better of the people Mike came in contact with were very supportive and loving of him. But there was that 5%. Some of them down right cruel. It happens. Mean people exist. There were also times when Mike had trouble understanding where a doctor or nurse was coming from and that caused friction. He wasn't perfect either. He dealt with it amazingly well and like I said, 95% of the time there was no issue. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">It made me appreciate the good - the doctors and nurses who treated Mike with dignity and respect. God bless these men and women. Thankfully, they were all on board during Mike's final round.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiUYgp-aMYo5hAAZWge-xtUuSGlZpgCd-JRmZXQBFA0wK9owXshEQxJTZTaj0kIa2J_i4fBfnA8mTYnt-bLw_GAOFgiNXNJeD-J6wh2VqYlx5bpIfb3Cp4yi46oD0y-ARHjl7VjGngvSj/s1600/blIMG_20140923_205158497.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiUYgp-aMYo5hAAZWge-xtUuSGlZpgCd-JRmZXQBFA0wK9owXshEQxJTZTaj0kIa2J_i4fBfnA8mTYnt-bLw_GAOFgiNXNJeD-J6wh2VqYlx5bpIfb3Cp4yi46oD0y-ARHjl7VjGngvSj/s1600/blIMG_20140923_205158497.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike had incredible coping mechanisms - he played guitar to ease the tension</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">The morning after Mike made his decision, he was sitting up and doing what he always does, planning his day and living it fully. When I asked him how he was doing his reply was, "Well, I woke up today so I may as well finish it out." LOL, that kid!</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mary came in mid morning and told him that she was trying really hard to arrange his trip home but that they were having trouble finding a way to get him home. She said, "Mike, it may take us another day to work this all out. You see, you need a lot of oxygen and then there is the bipap. We need to find a hospice that will accept this and then a transport crew that can deal with getting you home. We don't want anything to happen while you make the hour and a half trip." Mary was very compassionate knowing that Mike had the expectation that he would be home that day. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbOozg1Wzbbi0DtlVUWc6-MyEUstMXKwaHD117EXjQIIGvu6g_oMxmkHsRK1RcJB8Ku8HEgJzkyT4k80ZTyw776xiUsQrah0pb25EXfQgoT4v4oGQCKdsFNjlsirmT_382JcgOxbRs2om/s1600/blIMG_20140924_102614209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpbOozg1Wzbbi0DtlVUWc6-MyEUstMXKwaHD117EXjQIIGvu6g_oMxmkHsRK1RcJB8Ku8HEgJzkyT4k80ZTyw776xiUsQrah0pb25EXfQgoT4v4oGQCKdsFNjlsirmT_382JcgOxbRs2om/s1600/blIMG_20140924_102614209.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was tough to see his IV slowed to a maintenance dose. No more antibiotics. <br />
Just enough to keep his line from clotting while they waited for heparin to unhook Mike from the pole.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mike looked over at her and in his weak voice said, "Oh, well my brother can take me home." Mary looked at me and I looked at Mary and I'm sure we were both thinking the same thing - he obviously wasn't understanding or didn't hear her correctly. But with all the dignity and respect of a saint Mary replied, "Well, Mike we need to find someone with an XXX/??certification to be able to release you." </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Without missing a beat Mike said, "Yeah, my brother can do helicopters and stuff so he's good" and then he picked up his phone to try and text his brother. With wide eyes Mary said, "Mike, do you know the name of the company he works for?" Mike said, "Ahhh, Life something . . . it's in Waupun."</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Mary left. It wasn't that much later and I believe it was Mary again who came back and told him, "Mike, we contacted Lifestar and your brother Shannon (Radar) is working today. He has to bring someone to Madison so we are checking to see if he can take you home when he is finished." </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Things were pretty crazy. I had lists of things that had to be done so I was busy calling to get our house ready and things delivered. Katie left to go help get the house ready. My girlfriend Gail came in an instant from Neenah. Paul was home rearranging furniture and almost blew out his back. </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I was waiting to get prescriptions. Once I got them in my hand I left UW Madison for the very last time as the mother of a patient. It was surreal. Mike's father (Big Mike), Uncle Bob and Mikey's girlfriend Amy stayed to follow with Mikey. Traffic was awful. In 31 years I had never come to a complete stop and had to wait like I did that late afternoon. I thought about Mike in an ambulance. Would they get stuck? Would they have enough oxygen? Was Radar going to be able to get him? Would it be a stranger? Would Mike make it home?</span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFGJlrtW_6J3uL7L1rd4-OGvLUi8plvwZhCIZEpU7yb4pzEw8yVBz2ABFjKg80HAbBKC3Ohy2f9Ixlgj3tCYWZVFN3nVl_gTq12Sg4RSHv_iOgm-rlsxD1dk_saZuY1pfKy7CgbSDqSFU/s1600/BL1411597260318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivFGJlrtW_6J3uL7L1rd4-OGvLUi8plvwZhCIZEpU7yb4pzEw8yVBz2ABFjKg80HAbBKC3Ohy2f9Ixlgj3tCYWZVFN3nVl_gTq12Sg4RSHv_iOgm-rlsxD1dk_saZuY1pfKy7CgbSDqSFU/s1600/BL1411597260318.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brothers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">I got home about 30 minutes before Mike. He arrived and they brought him out on a stretcher. They wheeled him up to the steps. Yes, STEPS. Yikes we have a bunch of them. This man bent over and helped Mike up and as he turned I said, "Radar! It <strong>IS</strong> you! You made it! I didn't recognize you without your vest!" He just smiled and stayed on his task of gently carrying his brother into his home. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3VWbxLeMjzrwHtKrqHuiOf6_BZnYZ__9jE-SqB01c2vM-pBqakwUs9VEbxGuKrU-2y92mVSSFLoOufzlVh4h4rSeJSeU93LVSR-h5ity-WBatFAM5MlTX2CGSJiAw73sLiRElDIDRb3B/s1600/Home20140924_184912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3VWbxLeMjzrwHtKrqHuiOf6_BZnYZ__9jE-SqB01c2vM-pBqakwUs9VEbxGuKrU-2y92mVSSFLoOufzlVh4h4rSeJSeU93LVSR-h5ity-WBatFAM5MlTX2CGSJiAw73sLiRElDIDRb3B/s1600/Home20140924_184912.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am my brother's keeper!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Carrying out the request of his brother to die peacefully at home. Not at a hospital. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Not on the way in an ambulance. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">At home, surrounded by the people he loves.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because brothers do stuff like that for each other.</span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">Radar, Mike's brother, is a Critical Care Paramedic with flight endorsement. God bless him! </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">From the moment Mike made his decision to come home to die in peace, until he was buried in the ground a week and a half later, Mike was continually surrounded by people he loves. Never left alone - per his request. Never in the hands of a stranger. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><em><strong>Proverbs 18:24 "A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother."</strong></em></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: large;">And that my friends is how Mike's final request to come home was granted. God bless each and every one of you who helped make this possible. All the people mentioned in this post and all the people who prayed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to each and every one of you!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Love, love, love.</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6803700785027659676.post-29853941176539366482014-10-09T22:23:00.000-05:002014-10-09T22:23:45.311-05:00Modern Technology<span style="font-size: large;">Hi everyone,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So much to type, so little time. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I went back to work this week. It feels good to be back. I also wish I had more time. Life is always a balance.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am still experiencing so many blessings. They just keep coming. I want to share them all with all of you. You have helped our family so much. All in time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am working on my thank yous. I know all the etiquette books say to let people help you . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I wanted to make my own.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I want to write them myself. I wish I could send you each a personal letter. I know I can't right now. But I can tell you the stories of how you and others have blessed us, by writing about them on this blog. I am still in awe of how God has worked through all of this. We are so blessed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Momsters, I don't know what to say . . . I can not allow myself to wallow. When I get sad because I miss my Mikey I immediately think about what he is experiencing right now and my heart feels joy. I have such confidence in where Mike is and who he is with. I feel so honored to have a child in heaven. It feels like an accomplishment but I know it has nothing to do with me. God did this all and allowed me to be a part of it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At work today I noticed that my phone was not on my desk. My boss allowed me to keep my phone with me so Mike could get a hold of me when he needed me. I took my phone out and looked at it. I realized I still had voicemails from Mikey. When I got home I Googled how to get them off my phone and keep them. I love the internet and modern technology. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I found a voicemail Mike sent me on my birthday. I was able to record it onto my computer through a free program called Audacity. I love hearing Mike's voice telling me happy birthday and saying I love you. I will treasure that always. If any of you have voicemails from Mike I can help you get them recorded if you would like to keep them.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am thankful I am a bit of a techno geeky granny :)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Then Bear came over and he gave me this :</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnVP82AcOAqhNkrRmsbtd_-rZK9M9E4N4-QpiCZ9VqyNagdCsSfM0yefN-2DlrEhlUFcFIYyp8pMTbQBiMH4NP0ycol5bPVXVZEM24nw4_rc159twhlK9A85gJcpyUg2HGT7_Ug1k8xVD/s1600/IMG_1461.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnVP82AcOAqhNkrRmsbtd_-rZK9M9E4N4-QpiCZ9VqyNagdCsSfM0yefN-2DlrEhlUFcFIYyp8pMTbQBiMH4NP0ycol5bPVXVZEM24nw4_rc159twhlK9A85gJcpyUg2HGT7_Ug1k8xVD/s1600/IMG_1461.png" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Bear took a screen shot of his text with Mike when he came home from the hospital for the last time. Then he texted it to me and I figured out how to get it to my computer. Whew, that was a lot of figuring stuff out for an old grandma!! lol</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If any of the brothers can take screen shots like the one above I would love for you to text them to me. Thanks for sharing your pieces of Mike!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Bear and the THMC brothers. What you did tonight lifted such an incredible burden from our family. Another blessing that I will tell you all about soon.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So blessed by this HUGE family I have.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Keep loving it forward people - LOVE IT FORWARD!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings to you!</span>Ginahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13285398887015081748noreply@blogger.com1