Find the joy

I consider myself to be a joyful person. A little dramatic sometimes and defiantly a type ‘A’ personality, but for the most part I’m happy. I am not good at sad. I can do it for a while, but then it gets old. Sometimes I’m good at feeling sorry for myself. Snapping me out of that was something Brad was great at. He would baby me for a little while and then let me know when it was time to get over myself and get on with my life. I would then focus on all the good things in my life and find my joy.

I remember a time last year when I had just had my brain tumor removed and my pelvis was fractured. He put the boys to bed and then helped me get cleaned up. As he was laying me in the bed I started to cry. I looked at him, still wearing his work clothes because he hadn’t had time to change; then around the room at the stacks of laundry. Then I thought about the dirty dishes still in the sink and I knew he was getting overwhelmed. He asked me if I was in pain and I told him no, but that maybe it would have been easier for everyone if the brain tumor had just taken me. He looked me square in the face and said, “you are full of shit.” And that was that. That was my queue to stop feeling sorry for myself and snap into shape. That night, when I got up I used my crutches to get to the bathroom instead of waking him up. I worked a little each day at getting better and started thinking about all the great things in my life.

I realized this weekend that I have been feeling sorry for myself lately. I’ve gotten frustrated, been grouchy, overwhelmed and whiny. It’s time to write some thank you notes and remind myself that so many people have been super supportive in so many ways.

This week I am going to work on happy. I want my boys to remember that no matter how bad you think things are, you can certainly find people who have it worse. I also want them to learn that when things are rough you really have to concentrate on your blessings. The joy is there; sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it!

How are you?

'How are you?' is a question I get asked many times each day. I usually respond with something like, 'oh, we are making it through,' or ' taking things one day at a time,' or 'we are doing fine.' There are a handful of people that I can frankly tell that there are many times I would like to run out into my yard and yell a few choice words as loud as I possibly can.

The other evening I started to think about it. Really, how am I? Well, sometimes I am sad. Really, really sad. But I can't fall apart at the seams because I typically have two little sets of eyes on me. So I let them see me sad, just not really really sad. Sometimes I am angry. Angry at me, angry at him, angry at the world. Sometimes I look at people and I wonder what it would feel like to have your mother and your husband with you...oh and to not have cancer. I'm not even jealous, I just wonder what it would feel like.

There are times that I am just plain caught off guard. Like last week when Trent and I were having lunch and he said, "you know mom, everyone in my class has a dad." And there are times when I look around and I think of how blessed I am. Like when friends come to mulch my gardens, clean my house, mow my lawn, help me look for things, feed us dinner, fix things around the house, and meet me for lunch. So many of my family have bent over backwards to see that our needs are met. That makes me feel loved.

I remember these feelings and their phases from losing my mom. Sometimes I laugh and sometimes I cry. Sometimes the boys laugh and sometimes they cry. We talk and we pray and I try to help them through all the different ways they feel.

But, when the day is done and I put my head on the pillow at night I feel like half of me is missing. And I pray that one day when someone asks how I am doing I can honestly say I am doing great.

My tribute

When I was in 6th grade I had my first crush on a tall thin freckle faced 7th grader. In high school we became an item for a while and while I was away at college we would get together for dinner every so often. When I moved back to the area, we met up again and Brad and I got married on July 7, 2002. Our lives always led us back to each other. If that isn't divine intervention, I don't know what is.

We were soul mates. Boy we could make each other mad, but we sure laughed ourselves through some rough times. We could sit across the room, and with one look, know exactly what the other was thinking. We would sit on the front porch after the kids went to bed and solve all the world's problems. When my mom died I was devastated and he stood beside me, quietly being my support. He gave me two wonderful boys who will always remind me of him.

Eight years ago today, while Brad was flying back from business in Germany, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. When he got home, he looked at me and said, "Don't worry. It will be OK. We will get through this together." After my diagnosis, he found himself with many responsibilities that no new husband should have to do. But he did them. He knew when to hug me and when to give me some space. But most importantly he knew when to kick me in the butt, remind me when to stop feeling sorry for myself, and to get on with it! He got used to sudden plan changes when my cancer would flare up and I would often tease him about picking a lemon like me. Then we would laugh and move on!

It is easy to make promises, but Brad was a testament to keeping them. To a friend, a neighbor, a relative, a friend of a friend, it didn't matter. He was always ready to solve a problem of fix a need. Last night so many people turned out to give their condolences. My boys and I were so proud to see how many people cared about Brad. I hope it creates a memory for them that will last their entire lives.

People keep telling me how strong I am. To be honest, I think my strength came from him. He was my pillar of strength. He is still with me as he will forever live in my heart and in the hearts of the boys. We are soul mates, connect on a level that a lot of people don't understand. And I still feel him with me. I will miss those strong arms around my shoulders and now I will laugh alone. But I see him in the eyes of my children and he will help us through each day.

Thanks to everyone for their thoughts and prayers. I cannot thank my brothers, Don and Scott, and their wives Jackie and Brittany enough for putting their lives on hold and helping with so many details. To my dad who lost his father when he was 9 and has weathered the death of my mom. He has been a total comfort, sounding board, and source of information to us. I am thankful for Brad's parents and sister who have been so supportive and helpful. And to all the people who have brought food, mowed grass, filled the water softener, helped me clean. I just can't say 'thank you' enough for all the help I have received.

It is time for me to take a deep breath and get ready for the day.

Brad, you will always be my heart and I will love you forever.

Back to school

School started on August 23rd for my boys. With almost three weeks under our belts, we have fallen back into the 'old' routine of getting up early, reviewing school work at the dinner table, and going over spelling words in the car. This year, I was really sad to see them to go back to school and it wasn't just my normal dread of getting into the routine. This summer I really enjoyed hanging out with them and I knew I would miss our time together.

Trent is in 2nd grade this year and Ian goes to Pre-K four mornings a week. They are really growing up. I loved when they were chubby little babies, but this summer I realized how much I enjoy them now. We can go places without having to haul diapers and bottles and plan around nap schedules. I enjoy hearing their conversations and observations about the world and now they ask some of the funniest questions. They have each developed such unique personalities that make me wonder how two kids that came from the same parents can be so different.

Sure, toward the end of the summer they were getting a little tired of each other. On those days, I felt more like a referee than a mom. But for the most part we just enjoyed being together. We did bible school, went to a local water park, swam in the neighbors pool, went to baseball games and birthday parties, enjoyed the Outer Banks, went to a drive-in movie, spent time at the park, and sometimes just played at the house!

So now that we are back to the routine I have become the enforcer of bedtime, homework, clothes that match (thank goodness Trent wears a uniform), early morning rising, and chores. Trent still wants me to volunteer at the school . (Yes, he still kisses me in front of the school when I drop him off.) We have gotten our morning routine down to a science and are working together on a scrap book to remember all the fun we had this summer!

I must admit that I am looking forward to fall because it is my favorite season, but I do already miss those hot lazy days of summer and hanging out with my boys!

I really like your hair!

So, the other day a vendor came into my office and, as soon as she saw me said, "oh, I really like your hair." I wasn't in the mood to go into the long story about how it was a wig and then explain that I have cancer, so I just said 'thanks' and we moved on. When she left I started thinking about it and decided being bald isn't so bad. I have two wigs, both about the same color. One is straight and the other is curly so I do have a little variety. Wigs make getting ready in the morning super quick and I haven't had a frizzy hair day all summer!


With that said I still stand by my mantra from my first go-round with baldness all those years ago...'a bad hair day is better than a no-hair day.' So, I was excited last week when I realized that my head was itching! I had noticed that my eyebrows were growing back a few weeks ago and was so excited at the possibility that my hair was making a comeback. When you have spent time being bald, even the shortest hair seems lush and luxurious. The boys were happy to inspect my scalp and report that indeed stubble was starting to appear!! Visions of hair clips and blow drying starting to fill my head until Brad took a closer look. It seems that for some reason my hair is coming back in a 'male pattern baldness' way. The sides and back are full of stubble, while the top is still as smooth and shiny as a baby's behind!

I really thought that like last time, it would be an all or nothing thing: bald or hair. It never occurred to me that it would grow back half way. Good grief. It is really funny to look at though! I guess for Halloween all I will have to add is a red nose and a bicycle horn!

I wonder what the vendor will have to say the next time I see her!

Strength and Courage

Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking about strength and courage. Over the last eight years I have heard a lot about them. To be honest, I would kick strength AND courage to the curb if someone would tell me my cancer is gone. It makes me wonder if people always have them or if they somehow develop within you when you don't really have a choice.


Several weeks ago our neighbors and good friends lost their son in a automobile accident. Through the weeks that have followed, I have watched them become a true example of strength and courage. His sister gave the most beautiful tribute at the memorial service. I sat there thinking that I could not imagine speaking to that large group of people during such an emotional time. As a parent, I cannot imagine losing a child no matter how old or under any kind of circumstance. It just seems unnatural. His parents, though, through their grief, were open and honest about his stuggle with addiction in hopes that their message would reach another family working through the same issues. I really can't imagine being in such pain and having the strength and courage to think about trying to help others.

I was sitting with them a couple of nights ago, enjoying the fresh evening air and talking. His sister said something to me that really made me think. She said, "it is funny, but by him dying I have found my faith." I have thought a lot about her comment and how it makes sense to me.

After giving it lots of thought, I think faith sets a foundation for strength and courage. Faith becomes your building block that gives you the strength and the courage to fight through the tough times in life that no one warns us about. And that is why faith is one gift I am really trying to give my boys. I hope it will give them the strength and courage that they will need to navigate this thing we call life...just as it has for me.

Sue who?

I guess growing pains like this are normal for any family. There were years, many of them, that I never thought eating in a 'nice' restaurant with my family would be a possibility. There were the spills, the tantrums, just the hustle of getting everyone out of their coats and seated. The meals that came well after the kids were willing to sit still. The years we were limited to a buffet because we could eat in shifts while entertaining. The times we just gave up and went to a fast food joint with a play center. When they were babies, and we would just get settled just in time for a bottle (or a diaper change.) I was always armed with notepads, crayons, and stickers. Times when I got everyone's food cut, then turned my elbow just right to catch a straw in my sleeve and tip a glass into my food. Yes, I am hoping that at least a few parents of small children reading this are shaking their heads.


Last winter something marvelous happened to our family. I was still in my wheelchair and we went to Logan's Roadhouse for lunch. The boys ate peanuts and flipped them on the floor, they ordered for themselves, and they sat and ate like little gentleman. Since, then it has been all up hill. I look for coupons and use gift cards at any turn because eating out with them has become such a fun experience! We relax, take our time, laugh a little, and I love it!


It seems like such a simple thing, and we don't do it often but I do enjoy it! Last night we upped our game and went to Ruby Tuesdays. I know....we do like to live on the edge. The kids are on a salad kick so when they ordered the salad bar and a side of mashed cauliflower, I wasn't too shocked. I smiled as Ian had a little jazz step to the music as I followed him up to the bar. The food was good, the kids were good and we were just relaxing and enjoying the meal. The service was slow, but no one seemed to mind. We were just having a good time!!


After completely cleaning up all their veggies, they asked if they could have dessert. We decided a dessert split was in order! We looked it over and I ordered; some chocolate concoction with two plates for the boys and tiramasu to split for Brad and I. Ian turned to look at me and said, "Who in the world is Terrible Sue."

I'm not sure who giggled more. That Ian gets us every time! What a great date with my guys! We have come a long way!