To my Girl

To My Littlest Love,

                It’s been a year since I’ve gotten to hold your hand and tell you I loved you as I kissed your forehead.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t smile, laugh, cry, cuss, and all that in between.  I miss you more than I thought I could ever miss anything in the world.  A piece of my heart left that morning and I’ll never get it back.

                But you know all this.

                You are there when the sun rises over the trees in the backyard.  You are there in those purple sunsets I see from the driveway.  You are there when I look at your picture, and even when I’m not.  You are there when I want to quit.  I feel you in the breeze sometimes.  I hear your voice when I’m alone on the couch.  It might be that I’m going crazy, but I know I hear it.  I feel you there and it is all that gets me through the day sometimes.

                I know you see my every move and everything that happens.  I know sometimes you are happy and other times disappointed.  I promise I’m trying to be the Man you thought I was when you looked me in the eye.  I fall short a lot, but I will do my best.  I still can’t sit on the couch without your boppy and can’t leave the house for the night without taking Beatrice with me.  They are my favorites, just like your pigtails.

                I’ll never understand why you had to go.  I’ll never understand why it was you that had to have cancer and everything else instead of me.  I talk to God about it all the time; I still don’t have an answer.  You were here Little Bit for a reason and did more for your Mommy and Me and the people around you than I could have ever imagined to do.  You were amazing while you were here, I’m just happy I was yours.

                I will see you again one day I promise.  All those times I imagined us running through the backyard and having that real dance will come true.  I love you Sweet P.

                                                                                                                                                Daddy   

What I saw...

   It was a few months ago that I noticed something I had never seen before.   Looking into Penelope's eyes was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.    I noticed it first in a picture from the beach.  Something about her eyes looked different and it took me forever to figure it out. 

   Those last few weeks I never saw once that Penelope was sick.  I believe that it is God’s gift to parents with special needs kids. I never saw the cancer taking over her body and slowing her down. I never saw it.  I knew that she was tired and tired of getting poked with needles.  I knew she was tired of medicine and needed rest.  I watched it all but I never once saw what she couldn’t fight for much longer.

   I believe once I got over the shock of something was different with my little angel standing in that hospital office, it never ran through my head when I looked in her eyes.  I was lost in her soul.  All she had to do was look me in the eyes and I was fine. 

 I saw strength not weakness from everything going on.

 I saw a fighter that could have quit at any moment.

 I saw myself in those beautiful eyes and it made me want to do better.

 I saw hope that one day it would all be alright because she believed in me.

 I saw a little girl who I wanted to give the whole world, but all she needed was what she was looking at.

   I have to say that “I saw” instead of “I see” now.  I regret spending time, whether it was seconds or minutes, looking at the things that were wrong some days.  I see people all the time looking at their kids but not really seeing them.  I see them on their phones instead of being connected with the little one in front of them.  I’m over here wanting just one more minute and they are wasting hours.  what do you see when you look at them?  Do you see a disability or a miracle every day?  Do you see their faults or their little victories?

   I’m so glad that I got to be in the moment for that period of time.  My memories are now my moments, and I’m glad that I had the chance to see the light in all the darkness.  It was a beautiful.

Yeah, it is hard...

   That is the answer to everything this week.  It’s hard to think.  It’s hard to look at pictures.  It’s hard to wake up and it is hard to go to sleep.  I get so excited to scroll through my Facebook memories, but then end up almost getting sick to my stomach from the feeling of it being just a picture now.  Life stopped a year ago at the end of this week.  We go on and have really done some great things in her memory.  That’s what is hard and forever will be: the distance between memories of then and life now.

   That whole cliché of time heals is complete crap.  Time doesn’t heal, it only takes me farther from the last time I got to look into her eyes.  Time has done nothing for me but make me so mentally tired sometimes I can’t stand it. 

   I’ve wanted to write a million things over the past few days.  I’ve started and I’ve deleted.  I’ve written a sentence and then my mind wanders 100 other places.   Nobody and nothing can prepare you for the day you lost your little love.  I have relived that day a million times, but something about the official “1 year” hits you like a freight train right in the chest.

   I wouldn’t wish this feeling on my worst enemy.  It is a feeling of being lost that you can’t even describe.  I want to talk about her, but I know I’m going to cry.  I want to think about all the amazing things we got to do, but it makes me miss them that much more.  I want to be happy with my friends about their little ones, but I feel empty inside when I can’t hold her hand.  I’m crying right now writing this and I haven’t even begun to talk about what I want to.  That’s life though right?  

Just Have Faith

Having Faith is a process, not a phrase.

   “Just Have Faith” is a phrase I hear a lot.  This is what a lot of people use when they truly don’t have anything other to say.  Faith is the fallback when we can’t explain something or are out of options.  Faith should be anything but a fallback.  It should be a stand on, lean on, start with, or anything better than a last resort  I have so many questions when someone says this to me.

   Have Faith in what?  Have faith in the same thing that made me whole and now leaves me broken? 

   Have Faith in who?  In myself? In God? In humanity?  Two of these three have failed me on a consistent basis and the other makes me question the other two almost every second. 

   Have Faith when?  Just when I’m out of options?  Just when I need help the most?  Because this is the only time people seem to mention having Faith.  What if I started this venture with Faith and it is all been downhill? What do I do then?

   I truly believe that my little girl is in heaven; perfectly healed and filled with love.  I am more connected to my spiritual side and what I believe than some people that “HAVE” to go to church every Sunday morning.  So don’t get it twisted or say “He’s lost his way and I’ll pray for that.”  I pray sometimes that some people see blessings and have something like I do to believe in.

   These questions are just what come to my mind when somebody says have Faith and I don’t think many that say it really understand what their Faith is.  Some have never had their Faith tested, lost it, found themselves in the midst of it, and repeated that process every time they wake up and twice when they go to sleep.

   I believe that everyone should have Faith in something.  It first has to be with yourself.  You have to believe in yourself before you can believe in something or someone else.  I’ve made my peace with God and I am solid in my foundation of what I believe.  My prayer for you is that you can say that too.  If today was your day, would you “Just Have Faith” or would it be more than that?

To My Love on Mother's Day

To my Love,

                I could write a million things right now but I know none of them will be enough.  I’ve been right there the whole time. Sometimes holding your hand, sometimes looking in your eyes, and sometimes walking away because it’s best for both of us.  Nothing I could say on Mother’s Day will ever bring back what you lost that morning.  I only promise to never stop trying.

                A mother is something you always wanted to be.  I know that it is all you ever wanted.  I know you lost that part of your soul and although we don’t know what the future will hold, I know that little piece that Sweet P created will never come back.  I know how that feels. I know hun, that’s what makes life so hard.

                What you lost as a mother is what you also gained.  You did more for your daughter in 23 months than some could ever imagine.  Cleaning out blowouts, wiping up those damn bananas she’d spit out, and washing those bottles day in and day out was the easy part.  That was just part of the job.  That day you earned the title of Mommy, was the day you started something that will never be forgotten.  You did way more than what was published in newspapers and on TV.  You showed what it meant to love someone more than anything in the world.  You held back tears in times that needed you to be tough.  You held onto her when she needed it the most.  I will always say that she was a Daddy’s girl, but she was her mother’s daughter through and through.  Penelope was lucky to have you as her own, and she knew that.  She told us that morning how much she loved us, but always you first.

                All those signs we see are there to let us know how much she loves us and is watching over us.  They are there because you look for them and she knows that. 

                This day might not ever have the same meaning or be celebrated like it once was, but that’s ok.  It can be whatever you want it to be because you are Penelope’s Mom and always will be.  No one or no thing can ever take that from you.  I will celebrate it because I celebrate you and what you mean to me.  I love you.

                                                                                                                -Andy (with help from P)

Just Stop

You can’t control a lot of things in life, don’t forget about the ones you can control.  

  Life can a complete cluster sometimes.  Take mine for example.  End of school, spring football practice, 1 year since our travels to St. Jude’s, jacked up lower back and can’t lift, grandmother not doing so hot, and 50 million other things I’m sure you can relate to.  The problem with it all is in this life we forget to stop.  We get so consumed in the externals we forget about the things that we can control.  It is just as simple to stop and relax as it is to deal with all this stuff.  “Oh that’s easier said than done,” is probably what you are thinking.

    Most people resort to posting some sappy poor pitiful me post of Facebook and look to others to lift them up.  That’s the problem to me.  We are looking elsewhere to lift ourselves and forget that looking inward is where the peace is.  I won’t lie, a hot tub overlooking the mountain is my current state and helps with this, but I had to make this happen.  I have enough shit going on at home that I feel like I can’t ever stop; but until I fix me, everything else isn’t going to be worth it either. 

    Most of my inner depression and anxiety comes from the piece of my heart that is missing.  Everybody has their problems and demons, but we too often bury them deeper and deeper because of the more “pressing issues” in front of us.  There isn’t anything more pressing than your sense of self and taking care of you and those you love.  Ellen needed to be away this weekend and truthfully I needed it too. 

    Worrying about the dishes, the jungle I call a yard, the gutters that need cleaning, and the long list of financial issues that haunts us all every morning while brushing our teeth are no match for dealing with things like the emotions I see when I look at pictures of my princess and about throw up I get so upset.  All I’m saying is just stop, take a minute, an hour, a weekend and just work on yourself and the ones closest to you.  Just like everything I write, one day I’ll be drawn back to reading this and need this message; I just hope I’m not too far gone to fix it.

Being a Teacher, Morning edition

For all those that want to say Teachers have it made: Here’s a typical morning.  I cut it off at around 12:30 because afternoons are what we like to call “Herding Cats” and changes daily.  This doesn’t include all the stories I hear about what their parents did last night, how many shoes I tie, how many times they need to go see the nurse, how many drinks are needed at the water fountain, etc.  You get the picture.  I love my kids more than anything in the world and would do anything for them.  So enjoy my morning because I do. 

5:05 AM: Wake up

5:45 AM: Spin Class 12 miles in 46 minutes.

6:45 AM:  Shower, take dog out, make coffee, find the most unwrinkled clothes to wear

7:13 AM: Leave for bus duty blasting some rap music to get hyped up. XM Channel 44

7:15 AM: Pull in parking lot to 5 cars already waiting to throw their kids out the door and speed off

7:17 AM: 20 kids already in bus duty.  Heard my name 7 times.  1 has to call mom because they forgot homework.  3 kids already asleep sitting up.  1 kindergartener crying because some unknown ridiculous reason.

7:30 AM:  Dismiss about 60 kids for breakfast.  Remaining kids still asleep or staring at me.  4 more kids asked me questions.

7:45 AM: Bus gets here.  Almost 150 kids now.  2 kids fighting in 1^st grade line.  5^th graders attitudes starting to come alive.  Been asked twice to buy something.  4 bathrooms, 2 nurse requests.

8:00 AM: Dismiss RTI, Dismiss Speech, Grab and Go breakfast available.  200+ kids now in gym.  Every kid is in line, quiet, and packed up ready to go to class.  Said hello or good morning to almost all of them.

8:05 AM: Bell Rings.  Dismiss almost 250 kids in less than 1 minute with nobody getting lost, or trampled.  3 lunchboxes, 2 waterbottles, and some homemade art to be picked up and taken to their owners. Said have a great day to 100+ and high fived or fist bumped another 100.

8:15 AM: Homeroom.  Heard my name about 30 times by now.  2 kids forgot books.  2 lunch moneys to be taken, 1 story about how Mom hates Dad and getting a divorce, 2 stories on previous nights ball games.  17 kids now working on Adverbs, creating quadrilateral designs, watching Brainpop videos, reading AR, and/or eating breakfast and still trying to wake up.  2 kids to RTI.  Fixed 4 computers that didn’t work.  Untied 2 shoes that were in knots.  Told 2 boys to stop playing with themselves.

9:00 AM: Reading time.  15 minutes to read a 3 minute story.  Fixed 3 pronunciations.  Answered what’s for lunch halfway through explanation of a Plesiosaur.  Taught final lesson on Adverbs. 3 bathroom breaks.  1 more story about breakfast.  Lost count of how many times I’ve heard my name.  Started to do cursive while 1 kid is picking his nose.  17 kids now finishing adverbs, writing sentences in cursive, reading AR books, 2 kids whispering about another kids butt crack hanging out, 1 girl done and figuring out how the circulatory system works, 1 kid still trying to figure out the directions on adverbs.  Whole group reading commences, I’m reading Amelia Bedelia.  Can’t finish a page without hands raising and yelling out, “What’s she doing?” or giving us their two cents.  2 phone calls about a kid being sick and another who needs to ride with his Dad instead of Mom and go out back instead of front.  Finish reading story, have to reread 2 pages because we are all lost. 

During this time I have received 14 emails, 10 texts, and missed a phone call.  1 kids cell phone also rang in their backpack.  Still haven’t finished coffee.

10:30 AM: Computer time.  Fixed 4 computers again to get on internet.  1 kid turned screen upside down.  MyOn reader, AR tests, typing agent, and 1 kid loses privileges because he’s on Poptropica doing something I have no idea what it is.  2 more bathrooms. 1 loose tooth.  1 teacher walks in for me to sign a paper.  Still trying to reply to my wife via text but getting interrupted by kid using pencil as dart.

10:45 AM: Lunch.  Everybody washes hands.  2 kids get down hallway and forget lunchbox.  2 kids still don’t have lunch money.  Help some get through line.  Forget my lunchbox.  Walk back down hallway. Get to teachers lounge at 10:59.  Start to eat and forget drink.  Walk into cafeteria, dodge 47 kids wanting to hug me with PB&J all over their face and hands.  Sit back down and have 8 minutes left to eat. Don’t finish but shove the rest in my mouth and go get kids.  3 stories about how 2 were being mean and one was mixing his beans with his milk and making others smell it.  Lose 5 minutes playtime because they look like wild hyenas.  Tell 1 kid to go back because he still has Ketchup all over his face.

11:30 Math Time: Before we start 2 kids have to go to bathroom obviously.  Have to fix pencil sharpener because kid sticks eraser end in first and it jams.  Start lesson on 3D figures.  Have to review all the shapes for the 7^th time because we forget them every time, but halfway through we remember it all magically. 1 kid checks out.  1 stomach hurts as we begin to draw our shapes and Use Reasoning to find mystery shapes.  Lesson continues as 2 more forget the directions and have to come ask me.  Finding Mystery sums as a finisher for those finished early.  3 have to redo them because they did subtraction instead.  1 kid still trying to read instructions on mystery shapes after I read it aloud 4 times and explained it twice within earshot.   

This is not in any way complaining, so slow your role.  This is a wake up call that think all we do is color and watch Magic School Bus, although that works its way into the lessons because I like Mrs. Frizzle and coloring is calming.  Some of these aren’t even complete sentences because most of the time I don’t even get to finish my sentences, but it’s all good.  Being a teacher isn’t something you do, it is something inside of you.  I try to be the best version of me every day, because that is what they deserve.  If I’m not, thank the good Lord for my assistant Mrs. Kincaid, she’s a God-send and does all this times 5 every day.