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Thursday, December 18, 2008 2:44 PM CST

Monday, November 17, 2008 10:03 AM CST

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Thursday, November 13, 2008 5:17 PM CST

I know you were here. I feel it in every part of my being.

I had gotten up early. The crack of ten to be exact. I was slicing the strawberries and whipping the cream. Later, I would gently stir the batter leaving just the right amount of lumps to make an awesome pancake batter for the one I loved the most. (I can say that because I loved both you and your brother the most). I have to confess, as I was telling you that, I was telling him the same thing. Anyhow, I recall how harried I looked. It was real, a true representation of what was going on inside.

It was Saturday. I did not know how it had snuck on me and what to do next. I barely remember our conversation. Had it not been caught on tape and film, my recollections would be less. I started out cheerful but you could tell it was a forced kind of cheerful…a bit disingenuous. You did too. Only yours was real. Yours was always real. You were always a far braver and truer soul than I could ever attempt to be. I admire that about you. You always remained true to yourself and your emotions. There was never any guessing. I wish I could be more like you, in so many ways.

I said to you that I gotten up at the crack of ten to make something delicious, soothing and syrupy sweet for you. You simply replied “mmmm….” Trying to remain upbeat, I asked if you were excited. God knows how excited you had been in the weeks leading up to this day. You’d so often ask how the plans were coming, who was coming…how far away this day was! Later, you told me that you were nervous, and your voice began to whimper. After turning the camera off, I turned all my attention solely to you.

It was here my princess, it was here. Once we had gotten some of your nervousness dealt with by making signs that said “Please do not hit my wheelchair” or by my agreeing to enter before you and show the crowd how to clap in sign language so the noise disruption would be minimal, you began to get excited once more. I can only imagine how brave it was of you whose brain was so crowded already with those damn cancer to cells to face so much more stimuli that meant your brain would have extra processing work to do! You amaze me my Olivia Grace….you certainly do.

And it was bittersweet. As I lovingly prepared a feast for your special self, I had no idea how different this Saturday would be from every other remaining Saturday in my life. This Saturday, I was only thinking about Strawberry Pancakes, your afternoon at the spa for the full head to toe pampering and later “The Ball.” A thousand or so guests turning out to honor you…the belle of the ball! What a glorious day it would be.

I recall later when I took the microphone to speak- telling all those listening that this evening to me was a prom, a graduation, a wedding and a million dances rolled into one….knowing those things were not to come. It was a horrible truth to have to admit, but I tried so hard to remain in the moment and to be right there with you. There would be plenty of time in the future for the future.

Tonight was special. It was November 13, 2004...exactly four years ago today. It was also the last happy Saturday ever. Next Saturday, the activities would so violently and without regard shift from “The Ball” to your funeral service…

How was I to know? What was I to do?

Tuesday, November 4, 2008 6:32 PM CST

Four years ago, I did not honor my civic duty and privilege...opting instead to focus on being a mom. Just a mom. I had no awareness of the world outside our windows or issues that others felt such passion about.

I was concerned only with offering what slight comforts I could to my dying daughter. My only focus was that and our remaining days together.

I remember my neighbor called. She asked if I would like her to come and sit with the children while I went out and voted. Absolutely not. Not only was I not keen on leaving Olivia with anyone, I was quite frankly clueless about the issues and candidates.

The war I was put in charge of at home was one that had demanded all of me. I was thrust into a position of charting medicines...this one for seizures, one for nerve pain, one for cortisol replacement, steroids, another for thyroid...along with the oxycodone and morphine and growth hormone injections and on it went. Add to that doctor's appointments, hospice visits, a son who needed me to take him to school and pick him up daily and a funeral to plan and books to read to an eleven year about "The Next Place" and discussions about her fears and trying oh so hard to keep it together for those inside my home that I love more than life itself...and anything else was not manageable nor reasonable to even suggest.

Our team was going down and I was powerless to stop it. I was losing the war.

I did not care about Proposal this or Candidate So and So. My issues were so much more real and demanding.

Today, I went to work and then came home and got my walking shoes on and alongside Noah we walked down the road about a mile and a half to the precinct where I cast my vote for our future.

Some would say I am getting better.

I say with a laughable amount in the bank, a shut off notice on the electricity, an overdue water bill, many outstanding medical bills, a car that gets by on a hope and a prayer and an ex who continues to try to sabotage our efforts...it was and is time for change.

The war continues...within our home and our existence...it has just taken on a different tone. I would sell my soul for my son's well being. I could not save my daughter. The cancer inside her brain was a formidable opponent. In this war, I stand a chance.

I will battle on for my son...through his hospitalizations, summer spent in the Idaho desert in an outdoor wilderness program and a school district that says he does not qualify for special services in spite of various medical diagnoses...and a father no father who really is clueless about what Noah's needs are. I will keep trying to go to work and continue dodging phone calls saying that he is hurting again, or acting out or in legal trouble...and keep trying to be what society needs of me and pray that the vote cast today was and is a step in the right direction for change for our world...especially for our household.

And how could a guy whose name begins with the letter "O" be anything but good??

Saturday, October 25, 2008 4:17 PM CDT

For the last 1437 days, I have had a thing with numbers. And since that fateful day that many ago, I have hurt inside each time I see the number 11. Dare I say I have hated the number 11? All it ever represented was the month in which my killed my best girl...the month all our lives were forever changed.

I like to watch Deal or No Deal sometimes. When I watch, I imagine myself being the contestant at the beginning of the show, wondering which case I would choose, and if it would be the million dollar case. In my head, I believe if I ever were a contestant, I would not have my mind made up before going. I would let the energy at that particular moment direct my answer to "which case would you like to choose?" That's how I play along at home, in my mind.

The other night, I totally surprised myself. I said to myself, when Howie asked the question "Case number 11." I was caught off guard, not knowing where that even came from. The contestant chose otherwise, and the game played out.

While watching, I had a revelation. Something so utterly simple and profound, yet it had escaped me for all this time.

Olivia was 11 when she passed away. There was something happy to associate with 11...not the passing away part, the living part. It was the answer I heard from Olivia so often when asked "how old are you?" Yes, Olivia was 11.

Now, there might be some hope of having a ying to the yang of the tragedy of the number 11.

Oh....and case number 11....it had the million in it.

Monday, October 6, 2008 9:14 PM CDT

We went to the beach. What else was there to do.

Not right away though. We had to let the thoughts simmer for a bit first. It was hard-so hard to take it all in at once...or even over days or years. This lifetime may not even be long enough. The one that brings me to writing this wasn't. So, we waited through one more sunset, and after the following sunrise, we were off.

But what happened before that is what is of such mammoth proportion that it shadowed everything that happened after...to this day even....four years later. To ask someone to wrap their brain around it is just unthinkable, unfathomable...and downright distgustingly unfair.

But, it is not my brain that brings us here. It is yours.

It was yours.

Who does it belong to now? What happens to a brain no longer in use? Do your thoughts, your essence, little parts of your being become scattered through the wretched society in which we dwell...perhaps to make it just a bit better?

I can only speak for this home, this person who sits and writes this...and yes, your essence remains not scattered, but embroidered....emblazoned within my own. It is permanent. Or at least as permanent as I, which is nary a bit.

That lesson I learned the hardest way possible. Tomorrow, sometime between the virginal promise of a new day dawning and the assault...the rape of our senses, of right and wrong and good and bad and all that makes no sense....he would come.

He was gentle. As gentle as any could be that had intended to do what he had chosen to do. I don't fault him. Don't blame him a bit. If it were not him, someone else would have done it. And since someone had to do it, it might as well be him...cuz like I said, he was gentle.

He closed the door, then took my hand. I sat on the bed, he next to me in the hard, cold chair. He had tears in his eyes. He did not want to do it...this I know. Yet, I suspect he had done it before. And God only knows how many times he has done it since. I will not allow my mind to go there.

In that one moment, it was done. The world as I knew it was done. Everything now would be measured in a new space and time. Before he came, and after....and the after seems so long and drawn out. The before so beautiful, meaningful and innocent.

And after he left, after he'd done what he came for...I looked at you and wondered what to do now. I held you close, grateful that you were not in the room at the time to witness what had just happened. I'd have to share it with you though at some point. Not yet...not yet.

First, we went to the beach. After all, what else was there to do?

Saturday, September 13, 2008 9:57 AM EDT

My Dearest Olivia,

As I sit here on this 13th day of September, I of course know this was the beginning of the end. It was one of the last “normal” days we had in the year 2004, and that of course makes me sad, sad, sad. While it wasn’t completely filled with innocent, carefree days as I had already sent your scans and reports to Hopkins, St. Jude and Duke…we had not yet heard back from them yet. So, in that respect, ignorance was bliss. The real fear was about to set in on the 15th…when Duke called back and said “It doesn’t look good. How soon can you get here?”

You feel so far removed from my life, and that is such an awful feeling to carry around. I feel torn between earth and heaven…half of my heart here with your brother, and the other half in the next dimension with you. Only another bereaved parent would have a clue what that feels like, to live your life so torn and never quite complete.

I’ve never asked for exorbitant things or a fancy lifestyle. The things that matter most to me in this lifetime are not things, they are people, specifically you and your brother Noah. I bore two children, and only had hopes to nurture those relationships, or at least maintain those relationships in the physical tense…until I passed away. Not an unrealistic expectation. Not an unreasonable thing to hope for. You were the first person in this lifetime who showed me the meaning of love…who taught me what it is really about. You will always have a very, very special place in my heart for that reason, and so many others.

And as I write this, I feel guilt that I am writing about me. What I lost. When it is you who lost the most…your life, your chance, all the experiences yet in front of you.

I am so glad that you knew nothing but unconditional love your entire life. When you passed away, that is the thought I held onto so often…knowing that you knew and felt unconditional love everyday of your life. I know you had a happy life, a full life-if not a long life. I can feel you now as I sit here with a wet face and tissues close at hand telling me to “breathe in the light, and blow out the darkness.” I remember as you were in the process of transitioning from this lifetime to the next, how you would comfort me with that phrase. That has to be love…to be dying and reaching out to others…all at the tender age of eleven.

This year has been monumental in many ways Olivia. You would be proud of the strides your brother and I have made. Recently, as I had a chance to visit him in the desert of Idaho, I told him you would be proud of him if you were there with him. He is a very, very strong boy Olivia. He corrected me. He told me you are there with him, and you are proud of him! Thank you for walking with him, and keeping your love alive, your presence a part of him.

I want to say how much you mean to me. You are my best girl! As I sit here on this official “National Childhood Cancer Awareness Day”, I am aware. I am very aware of the tragedies of such a disease from the time before diagnosis until the moment it begins to choke the life and breath right of you. I am aware in a way that is different than the majority of cancer moms…thank God for that. And now, I will try to go through my days with an awareness of your love, your presence still within me. It is in a way that is so much less fulfilling, but it is there nonetheless. No one can take that from me. It’s just not how I wanted it, how I imagined it. I wanted your pretty brown eyes, your optimism, your infectious laugh and impeccable character to be something existent in a physical sense each and every day of my life. Yet, the world had different plans for you…something that is so hard for me to wrap my head around.

I love you my Olivia Grace…forever and a day, and that’s not long enough….like Mommy always told you.

Thank you for being my daughter…..

Tuesday, September 2, 2008 6:03 PM CDT

"The Invitation"



It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wilderness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the moon, “Yes!”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied, I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Saturday, July 19, 2008 9:11 AM CDT

Dear Olivia,

It has been 1,339 days since I last kissed your beautiful face. My heart has felt the void in each and every one of those days. I think about the last hours when you opened your eyes, and emerged from your coma long enough to say “I love you Mommy.” That is truly priceless and something I carry with me and treasure for all of my days.

I think about the first days, when I finally after 38 hours of labor, I held you close and drank you in. The smell of you, the feel of you, the beauty of you…and throughout your 4,362 on this earth, that never wavered, never changed nor did my feelings. Well, perhaps they grew stronger, but I am not sure of that. I was and am madly in love with you from the time I knew you were growing inside of me.

I think about you and truly, honestly know that you are the bravest person I know. Throughout four brain surgeries, daily injections, a dozen or so other surgeries and the daily struggles to do what most of us find relatively easy-- what stands out is your attitude. Gosh girl, if mommy had to do…I doubt I could do it as well as you did.

I know if I were you and you were me, you certainly would have handled this journey of grief so much differently than I. I miss you my little cheerleader, keeper of the positive energy and sunshine of the earth. I looked at you bracelet that hangs on a hook just the other day. You made it with beads that have words on them. I read it again. It says “The Power Is Free.”

And now….so are you.

Dare I say that I am not? It sounds so selfish to speak of myself following those words about you, your journey and your loss here on earth. It really is all about you.

I know that you would be proud of how far I have come. I know if you are or were able to see me in that first year or two, your heart would have broken for the pain I was in. Yet, I also know you would be understanding.

I can’t help but to go back to four years ago, and relive that last summer we had together. How in the heck were we ever to know it would be our last summer together?? You, Noah, Me and Cocoa…the classroom guinea pig you were so excited to care for over the summer break. Swimming at the swim club, riding your three wheeler, playing with Brittany, Dominique and Chandler….I am sure they miss you at the Dairy Queen. All those ladies who immediately knew when they saw you what you’d want….Cookie Dough Blizzard with chocolate ice cream please you would say, but they’d already be making it.

Lately, I keep playing over and over in my head the unanswerable question of “were you scared?” Not only at the time of flight out of this world, but in the weeks before. Did it terrify you as your body began to shut down on you? When suddenly your legs would not support you, did you really trudge along as it appears to all of us that knew you, or did it fill with you anger, and disappointment and struggle? When your hearing began to go…did you wonder what in the hell is happening, or did you approach it with your typical trusting self, knowing that Mommy was right there with you and as long as I was, it was all going to be okay? That’s all that you ever asked of me, that I be right there with you.

Now though, I can’t. And I hate that part. I miss you so much. Every morning, I wish you a spoken “Good Morning Olivia,” and every night I whisper “Good Night Olivia.”

From the Ground up to God, you are my daughter, my best girl forever and ever…nothing can change that, not time nor space. I just wish you were here my best girl…I love you dearly sweetheart. Thank you for visiting me in my dream the other night. It meant a lot to me, seeing as how it is only the second time I am aware of it happening. Come back anytime sweetheart…mommy is here……

Wednesday, July 16, 2008 8:50 AM CDT

I did a little studying last night about pedophiles and such. This list made me shiver. Everything on here I can personally attest to. It all describes the man, my "father" who did such untoward things toward me while I was a child.

The other interesting thing was that I saw the results of a poll. The poll question was "If your teenage child came to you and told you the other parent was sexually abusing them, would you believe your child or your spouse's subsequent denial?"

Thank God that 86 percent of respondents indicate they would believe their child.

Too bad that bitch that bore me was in the 14 percent.

If by putting this info out there, one child can be spared or one parent can make different decisions...it will have been a decent day.


Common Attributes of Child Molesters:
(from "A Profile of the Child Molester")

-Pedophiles are notoriously friendly, nice, kind, engaging and likeable.

-Pedophiles target their victims, often insinuating themselves into that child's life through their family, school, house of worship, sports, and hobbies.

-Pedophiles are professional con artists and are experts at getting children and families to trust them.

-Pedophiles will smile at you, look you right in the eye and make you believe they are trustworthy.

Friday, July 11, 2008 8:14 AM CDT

I have received bunches of requests for info for the new page. Most have been from those that have incredibly supported us through the years. Some have been from names from names I did not even recognize. One or two of the requests have had a certain edge to them. So, I wanted to briefly explain the situation.

This site gets about 500-800 hits a month. It gets proportionally less comments left. In this world of online blogging, that is how it typically runs.

It was very easy to know which requests for the new page and passwords to honor initially. Without hesitation, I sent along the info to those folks who I "knew," either in this virtual world or in the real world. Some people had followed us for four years and had been leaving messages of love and support for just as long. Others were professional people that are now involved with our situation who would benefit from staying abreast of the situation.

Some requests came from names and people I had never known or heard from online. I really understand that not everyone that logs in to this site leaves a commment. That observation is true of many that infrequently leave comments, or even those that have never left comments. I get it, I really do. I have a plethora of sites that I visit and don't leave comments on. The same is true of, dare I say anyone that is in this virtual arena.

That being said, when I get requests for passwords and URL's to be let into the new site, I have to make a call. What is happening now in our lives is so different than the original intent of this partcular site. When Olivia was diagnosed as terminal and subsequently passed away, I needed, wanted and appreciated any and all visitors, be it strangers, new friends, old friends, family, etc. Whether they left comments of support and love, or merely read and prayed for us, their presence was part of what sustained us for so long. I know that during that time, we had people and visitors from ALL OVER THE WORLD that were reading, writing, praying and supporting us. That will NEVER be forgotten or downplayed by me. It was part of what kept me going when life begged of me to not keep going.

But, with Noah's situation, the situation becomes a bit more tricky. There is a certain amount of privacy that I need to be respectful of. Those folks that I knew would jump right in and continue to be supportive and loving as they had for the past four years were of course given the new info. When I got requests from names and emails that I did not recognize, I would either check this guestbook and see if they had indeed left previous comments of love and support, or check my email account to see if they had mailed private notes of encouragement.

With my apologies to those (again, not unlike myself), who continue to read along and not send messages, I can not in this situation with Noah continue to expose ourselves, but primarily him.

I hope you understand, and do not take these decisions personally. I am of course continuing to check this site. I have actually been writing an update for this site in my head all week. That is how it often starts. The thoughts and such roll around in my head for a while before I come here and make them a part of our history. Updates will continue, and the guestbook remains open.

Thank you for your understanding, love and support. I will say that in the near future, I will be heading out to the desert for a reunion and continuation of the work necessary with Noah. I can't wait!

Much love to you, my friends.

Sunday, June 29, 2008 10:43 AM CDT

We're moving!!

No, not homes....blogs of course. This blog will continue to be updated as it relates to Olivia Grace's life, love and legacy.

But, there were some oddballs hanging around that just didn't sit well with me. It's time they lived their own lives for their own selves. So with that, I can hopefully say goodbye to my brother and Lauren once and for all.

I will go back into my files and send those of you that previously sent a note requesting to be "in the loop" the password for the new site. The new site is kinda cool, because you can password protect individual entries, and leave others to remain public. I am not sure if I will ever do the latter, it's just nice to have choices.

The new blog can be found here: www.oliviasgrace.wordpress.com

If I miss you with the email containing the password for today's journal entry, please email me at won2xx@gmail.com

Thanks for taking the journey with us....I appreciate the love and support from so many of you. I really do....

Sunday, June 22, 2008 12:01 AM CDT

Day five....and yes, I'm counting.

I have heard from the staff at SUWS the day of Noah's arrival, Wednesday. Again, we spoke on Thursday and Friday. Friday was a heavier telephone conference with Noah's specific clinical director. Again, let me say that this is the hardest thing as a parent I have ever done, as a choice. I never ever imagined either of my children's fate being what they have been. But, I need to keep my focus on Noah right now, and not wallow in my own emotions...something easier said than done.

As of Friday's phone call, Noah was doing "just fine." No acting out per se, no meltdowns. This is what is known as the "honeymoon phase," or at least that is what I haved deemed it. I asked Noah's director how long he thinks that phase will last, and he told me point blank that his guess is that by Monday, Noah will be in full blown Noah mode, showing his true colors and intentions. This is kinda what they want though...they want to see the ill behaviors and reactions come out, so they can then deal with them immediately and with a gentle force.

Already though, he had started in on director, choosing to deflect his responsibilities and issues on me. He let them know if they could just get me there to the program instead of him, all would be well in his world and his psyche. Jeff (director) assured me that it is very common for a child to come in with "both barrels cocked" for one parent, and since I am the primary caregiver, it comes as no surprise that it is me. Again, not unlike Dr Phil, Jeff has had to employ the technique with Noah of "you are not telling the truth, and I am walking away and am done talking with you until and unless you are ready to be truthful." That was said after another one of Noah's lies.

But last night was really, really rough. I laid there thinking 'Noah is probably getting really, really agitated by now, and is going to start total freak out and raging if he hasn't yet already." Helluva image for a mother to have in her head of her son out there in the desert....but, I have to be tough.

Jeff's words were "it is not uncommon for a student to be out here 60 days." And whether or not he comes home after the program is a question mark. Jeff said that by about the third week, he will have a better handle on if the recommendation will be for Noah to come home after he completes their program, or if he will recommmend Noah move on to a boarding school or other therapeutic school setting. Yep, we're playing ball in the big leagues now. It is exciting. No, not in the typical sense of exciting...it is exciting in the sense that there is some real hope for real fundamental change. It is so hurtful too, in a way that can not be described. Not unlike losing a child, this is something probably understood by only those few that walked this path.

I am starting to learn that I need to take the ass kicking machine off. Again I said to Jeff the other day that I had not been the stellar mother I had always been once Olivia flew away. That I believed that so many of Noah's troubles were a result of me losing that ability to parent as I had always done previously. Jeff assured me that any parent's parenting mechanisms and skills dramatically change after losing a child, and my reaction was not so atypical or horrid. I will continue to roll those thoughts around in my head and hopefully someday soon I will be able to let go of it all together.

The schedule that Noah is now on is very regimented and very controlled. They hike each day, anywhere from one mile to ten miles. They have to eat certain food to progress through the individual levels. That part amazes me, to think that through their program they will impart a sense of 'you must eat your fruits and vegetables if you want to progress and ultimately go home.' Noah has not eaten a fruit or vegetable in about eight years! But, Jeff explained at some point the students will actually come to realize that the rice actually tastes better if you add the carrots and onions to it.

Anyhow, my fear is a pretty constant companion in Noah's absence. I find myself checking the program's schedule compulsively. I check so I can know "hmm, right now Noah must be hiking, or partcipating in truth circle, or journal time, etc."

We are sooooo blessed to have this opportunity to be a part of this program. I am so bummed that the need for such a program exists in our lives. I am fearful of what his days look like, what his mind is thinking, what his heart is feeling...and I am so glad that there is real hope for a chnage........

Please keep praying....and your support is appreciated now as always. This road is lonely and full of fears!

Wednesday, June 18, 2008 7:50 AM CDT

6-12-08
Day minus six and counting…

Everything I have and everything I am begs of me to reconsider once again if this is the right way to go….yet I have done that so many times already that there aren’t any thoughts left to roll over. They have all individually and collectively been handled, examined, gently stroked and argued with. My thoughts have been second only to my breath lately. And it is with this that Noah will be heading off to a specialized and intense program next week. He will begin an outdoor wilderness camp for boys ages 11 to 13 in the Idaho desert. He will be there a minimum of 28 days, with an average stay of 42 days.

42 days…hmm….the same amount of days between being told Olivia was terminal and her passing……….

Things had gotten better since our return and implementation of the Dr Phil techniques. They just had not gotten to a point in which Noah needed them to be for his life to have a chance. The last straw was him being suspended once again, for punching a boy in the nose.

This is the hardest thing I have had to do as a parent, as a choice. The hardest thing ever was done in the cold morning of November 18, 2004. I pray that someone can reach Noah, and break through his emotions. God knows I have tried, with therapy, psychologists, hospitalizations, medications, taking things away when warranted, giving things when warranted, a 900 mile car ride to the ocean as a chance to connect, a trip to the Dr Phil house, and on and on it goes.

Harvard has conducted a few follow up studies on this program. Their research indicates that two years after graduating, 88% of families report significant changes in the way of improvements in their child and their family dynamics.

The thought of my precious boy out there in the desert living this wilderness therapy scares the hell out of me. It is second to the thought of him growing up and his escalating ways landing him in prison. I think of the Bart Corbins out there in the world…the doctor who murdered his wife for whatever reason he had dreamed up that would make it seem like the thing to do in his mind, that it was justified. Noah has many, many tendencies to justify and excuse his behavior. I pray that a bit of this “tough love” approach will impede a lifetime of trouble.

I lied. I lied to Olivia that cold November morning when I stroked her beautiful face and told her it was okay to go toward the lights if she saw fit, and that Noah and I would be okay. I knew right then that we would not be okay; I also knew it was what she needed to hear to free her from this existence and enable her to move on to the next place.

Noah and I have not been okay since then. Noah had not been okay even prior to that. That is a harsh reality that I have to accept. While his problems certainly escalated after losing Olivia, it is necessary for me to admit that they have always been there. This is an extremely hard thing to do; it is done in love and hope. It is surrounded with fear and anxiety.

This update had been written and stored on my computer in stages over the last few days. I can’t post it until we (Noah’s Dad and I) tell Noah; wouldn’t want him to find out from a reader of this blog before we tell him. So, today is the day…the day for us both to sit down with Noah and have the talk; to tell him where he will go early tomorrow morning long before the sun ever rises. I have barely slept the last few days. Last night, in cumulative effect, it was even worse. I have two burning images in my head. One is how Noah will react tonight when he is told. I have to say, I feel guilty. I have thought about this at length the last few days. The poor little guy doesn’t know what is about to hit him. He woke up this morning thinking it was just another day….the first Tuesday of summer vacation! He has no idea this will be his last day in a comfortable bed, with such simple things such as a home cooked meal, TV, his bike, his freedom or people that love him. The other image that I have playing in my head is the one in which he gets passed off to the care of the people at the SUWS program in Idaho (suwsyouth.com). The exchange of care will take place right at the airport in Boise. I keep picturing my little guy looking back over his shoulder with eyes pleading “don’t leave me here!!” If we are lucky it will just be his eyes pleading. I fear it may get more full blown than that. I pray it does not become a matter of security.

I continue to tell myself that this is easier than having to pass him off to the state or federal authorities in seven years or so to be escorted to a prison somewhere. I am afraid that is where he may be heading otherwise.

Oh God………I hate this. I hate that we have come to this place in the road. I want to wake up and find it has ALL been a nightmare……..the whole last four years, or at least what is happening with Noah. Or, I want to wake up and find that it is August and I have just slept through the last few weeks and my baby boy is coming home again, a changed person.

Today, I want to ask for three specific prayers from those of you that choose to pray. Please pray for:

-Noah’s safety

-Noah’s heart and mind to be open to gaining all that he can from this experience.

-A bit of peace for my heart in his absence.

I am so scared. I know I would be less than human, less than a decent loving mother if I weren’t scared. I know they are all normal reactions, yet that logic does not seem to make it one iota easier. I just keep thinking of how the world might be a different place if the mothers of people such as Bart Corbin (google his name if you don’t know the story) would have, could have seen the signs and perhaps took stronger intervention measures at an earlier time. Prison is not for my son. A loving home is the place I wish for him to live out all of is tomorrows.

God, I am doing what I can on my end to make as certain as possible that that happens. I trust you with the rest, and with my beloved son. I ask you to walk with Noah during the upcoming weeks. I also know that Noah has a very special angel in heaven, and I know that Olivia will be with him also.

Now, if I could only find a way to have a six week nap…..please pray.

Friday, June 6, 2008 6:14 PM CDT

There certainly has not been a shortage of activity lately in our lives. I am not yet at liberty to discuss the most significant change, but look for that in an upcoming update. Let's just say that there is a bunch of hope for Noah to get a better place, and it fills my heart with gratitude.

It is so hard to believe that Olivia has been gone for as long as she has. It is scary to move away from the enormity of the grief that once permeated every cell. The thing that is scary about that is feeling that I might forget. Holding onto the grief still offers a connection. I think that is why one does it during this process. The fear for me anyway is 'lose the grief, lose the connection.'

It is hard for me to realize that Noah is now in the summer vacation of his fifth grade. That is the last summer Olivia had.

I miss that little girl with all that I have and all that I am.

Again, I want to sincerely thank all of you to whom it applies for your recent surge of support in what has been a trying time. The many emails, cards and calls I received meant the world to me. It honors me that after 3+ years that so many of you still come back to check in with my family, and to express your love and caring.

Saturday, May 24, 2008 7:50 AM CDT

Thank God it's Saturday, and a long weekend. I think we could all use a break...

I was happy to see the new promos for the shows that seem to have garnered quite a bit of attention showing a bit more of a loving, balanced side. I hope the shows themselves will illustrate that, but I am not quite counting on it.

I am learning quite a bit about this process. I knew going into it that there is a great potential for much "creative editing." It was a decision I searched my soul long and hard for, realizing this is a likely outcome. Regardless of what is yet to hit the television medium, I am so glad we were there. Did it have many bumps in the road? Oh my gosh, that is an understatement! One could not even begin to imagine what happened behind the scenes, both on set and in our private lives that have now become so public. I am glad the end result is a very, very decent one. I'd do it all over again to have the results we did. I believe in our case, it took quite bit of courage to open ourselves up the way we did. That is both for Noah and myself. I did ask him what his feelings were about going to Hollywood and opening up the way we did before we went. It was a great relief knowing that he was ready and willing to hear the messages as I was. Had we not both been open to the experience, it would not have had a chance at being successful.

I had an interesting thought this week. I felt like I understood more about being the insanity of a celebrity being reported in the tabloids. Let me try to explain that. Not that in any way do I consider us celebrities...it is just an analogy of putting yourselves out there for millions to see and the sometimes unreasonable conclusions that the general public can contrive. I imagined a celebrity who did a series of things, and the press focusing on only one aspect and thus printing and filming untruths. Snippets of one's lives while necessary in this venue can leave half truths exposed. It will make me view the news differently when I hear "such and such celeb seen puking in the bathroom." Perhaps that celeb is indeed sloppy drunk. It is also possible that celeb is coming down with the stomach flu, but following that blurb up with the additional info that said celeb then went to the ER for medical attention would not sell advertising.

Yesterday, I had a long conversation with Noah's father. I am glad we have his support in being on the show, as he too believes it is a means to an end. He said, and this is a man who has known me for fifteen years, that what he saw in my eyes was "sadness and sorrow." That's what I felt. I am glad that is what was seen. We are both so glad to see changes in our son's life. It is a long, cumbersome road...but somehow, I find the strength to carry on. Bereavement, parental bereavement, forever changes a person. I have said before that some parents have the ability to compartmentalize those emotions and somehow carry on with some semblance of normality. I doubted that I would ever be one of them. Through the love of my friends and the support of Noah's dad, through the support of the Dr Phil staff...I feel that I may be able to get "there." I remember telling Noah's dad a decade or so ago that if anything were to happen to Olivia, one of two things would be necessary. That would be either a double funeral, or a padded room for me. I am glad I am not in the padded room. I am glad I am here for Noah. I am glad that Noah knows that he is truly and deeply loved even in the midst of all my imperfections.

And speaking of Noah....that is one part of the journey that I wish could be seen. Nowhere are the loving moments and times we have depicted, and I understand that. Everybody's stess level is raised on the set, and it shows. Privately, I cherish the times spent with my son when we share loving, tender moments. He is always given opportunities to talk about Olivia, about himself and about us, amongst other things. He is an amazing child. A bit intense, like his mother, and this is a blessing and frustrating at times, as I imagine those that are in my close circle would say about me. I can somehow 'hear' my best friend thinking about my intense nature, but she loves me all the same. I have often said that my highs are high, and my lows are low. I am quite emotional.

I am also glad that my skin is much thicker and that I realize now what true trouble is, cuz if I didn't people's opinions could perhaps unnerve me. I have to chuckle at some of the things I have heard, and how crazy the ideas are. Some it seems, have entirely too much free time on their hands. Many that know me comment about how incredibly strong I am, having seen and lived through
so much adversity through the decades. I used to shun that idea, and say I am not strong, I am very weak and emotional. I am learning that I am strong, and that I have a very good sense of what matters in this lifetime, to me and to my family. I am also learning that having the ability to reach out for help and embrace it wholeheartedly is an asset I can hold onto.

Grief is an incredibly personal and tragic journey, especially when grieving one's child; especially cruel when it is grieving the loss of the first person in the world you ever loved. One day at a time, employing the meaning of a Japenese word "kaizen" (meaning getting just a little better each day) we are on the road to a better future.

Again, please email me your address should you wish to continue reading updates in the likely event this page becomes password protected in the near future. won2xx@gmail.com

Enjoy your Memorial Day weekend, remembering those that gave their lives for us....as well as those that died before having a chance to live their lives as we could rightfully expect.

Saturday, May 17, 2008 9:27 AM CDT

****5-23-08******
There is a likelihood that in the near future it will become necessary to password protect this site. Please jot down my email address: won2xx@gmail.com and let me know if you'd like the password should I choose to restrict access. Thanks for all your support...both here in the guestbook and in private emails. Your love and kindness is appreciated...more than I can say.****


I have been debating about this journal entry for months now..and today decided to post it.

As so many of you know, the road has been rocky to say the least. After Olivia passed away (God, it still pains me to say that), I punched out. I admit it freely, and offer no apologies. I was treading water in the biggest way, and that was it. I was trying to stay alive, even though I did not (do not) want to. I did it and continue to do it for Noah even though I know whatever we had is damaged. How could it not be? The moment Olivia was diagnosed as terminal, the family changed forevermore. While I said and stick to the idea that I "offer no apologies", I do wish I could have/would have done some things differently. Yes, I may wish that, but I doubt it is a practical thought. I doubt if we had a do over, I could or would perform much differently. My biggest mistake in handling it was basically staying on the sofa for over a year in a tearful, depressed state. My second biggest mistake was yearning for the house to remain quiet, and my lack of interest in conversation or noise for that time period. I did not believe the house could manage any more noise than that that was constantly in my head. I did not have any additional energy to put into maintaining any dialogues. The ones that played in my head were far too consuming.

As many that have followed along with our story over the years know, Noah subsequently spiraled downhill and ultimately out of control. I sought out many avenues of help, from insurance covered counseling to paying out of pocket a hundred bucks a session for private therapy. Noah was twice admitted to psych hospitals in hopes of offering him a chance. Things that happened after that left me feeling more defeated. There were visits by the police to our home relating to Noah. He, in the ultimate moment of begging for attention reported "abuse" by me and a CPS investigation was conducted which of course concluded with no substantiated abuse claims. He has gotten himself suspended from school on numerous occasions. The worst was the time he hit the principal. Luckfully (an Oliviaism), he was suspended for two weeks as opposed to being expelled.

In January of this year, I saw a blurb on the Dr Phil website, asking if your child was out of control and needed 'brat camp.' I wrote in...feeling only that this was a means to an end. Noah needed help desperately, and I was at my wits ends believing I had done everything in my power and at my disposal. I searched my heart long and hard about this. I was not looking for my fifteen minutes of fame. In fact, this is what made me not want to do it. I did not lightly enter into a situation of publically airing our dirty laundry just for the fifteen minutes of fame. It was only a means to an end. We were selected to go to LA and be a part of the Dr Phil house.

The shows begin airing this week. I am embarrased and uncomfortable about what I believe will be shown. I also realize and realized as it was happening on the set that a certain amount of what we brought there and exposed was exploited to make for good TV. I also realize that it was a matter of swallowing my pride for the sake of my son. No regrets......

I am beyond happy to say that since our return, our lives have begun to take a new path. One of the most important things I have learned is that I need to make small talk in order to have the door open for 'big' talks. Our house is no longer quiet.

To anyone that wishes to judge or form uneducated opinions, I can only say that gladly I would have changed places with any of you at any moment. Walk a mile in my shoes and then tell me how much better you could have done it. I did not use and abuse drugs or alcohol, nor did I ever abuse or neglect my son. That is something I have always held onto as a barometer of how things could have tragically and horifically gone different. Having come from a home as a child that was filled with drug abuse, sexual abuse and emotional torture...I have always hated the quote about parents 'they did the best they could.' How could that be in the situation that I grew up in? It just can't be. They were not stupid, they only acted that way. They knew better. They did not quite frankly do the best they could. Yet, I do feel that in the unique situation we were in, I did do the best I could. And, when the situation got to a horrible breaking point, and enough time had elapsed to give me the strength to do diffently, I went to LA and asked for and accepted help. I stand by that decision as it has brought me to a better place in my relationship with Noah and has brought Noah to a better place with his relationships in the world. Just this week, he brought home a "ONE" in his classroom behavior for the week...something never before done!!!

I would be less than honest to say that I am not uncomfortable to think of what will air this week, and how we will be exploited. I just remind myself that after what we and I have been through, nothing can touch that. This is still really a bit benign. As always, but especially this week as feedback begins to find it's way to me, I would be especially grateful for any gestures of kindness and/or support in the guestbook. After the series airs, I will come back and post about it from a different perspective...

Wednesday, May 14, 2008 4:20 PM CDT

1996....May 12th.

It is a Sunday. It is Mother's Day. My beloved Olivia lie next to me in that teeny tiny hospital bed we had lived in for the last six days. For the last five of those days, she laid comatose. I did not understand why. I did not hear it when they (docs) told me that after her brain surgery, she may take a while to awaken. Each day since the surgery, I would ask her "today?...today could you wake up for mommy? I miss you, I want to see your prety eyes." Each day I cursed the fact that the sun went down, and Olivia was not yet conscious.

And this day, it was Mother's Day. I had the only Mother's Day present I ever could want. Olivia was alive. But, admittedly it was lonely. She was not awake yet. People came, and people went. The sun rose, the sun set. I finally laid my head next to her own wounded one
on the pillow next to hers and closed my eyes, resigned to not getting what I now truly wanted for this special day, if a mother in such a place as me was allowed two selfish wishes.

I do not remember what time it was when I was awakened by a loud gasp. My eyes swept over what was happening right next to me, and immediately met the eyes of the mom holding her own bedside vigil in the bed next to me. I looked hurriedly at her, demanding with my eyes only to know what had her in such a tizzy. She could only point. She pointed to the foot of the very bed I was lying in. Quickly, I scurried my own eyes to the area she demanded I see.

There, at the foot of the bed was my Princess Olivia, standing up with her hand steadied on the IV pole that was connected to her. I gasped!!! "What are you doing?!" I demanded to know. Matter of factly, she quizically looked at me and said "I am going to the bathroom!!" as if to say 'what the heck is wrong with you for reacting THAT way mommy?" Wait, I told her, wait and let mommy help you along. With that, I darted out of that bed faster than one can imagine, and helped Olivia to the potty.

That was my day twelve years ago today, on what was Mother's Day and had ended in the sweetest present of all. For the previous days that Olivia had laid comatose, no one knew if she would be able to walk, or talk, or see....or ______. Nope, those things would not become
evident until that very moment the coma let my Olivia free from it's grasp, and the call of nature demanded that one independent young strong girl get up out of the bed to properly walk herself to the bathroom.

That my friends, was a good day.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008 12:10 AM CDT

Recently, I sent out a mass email to all begging for them to help in this horrible cause. You may recall, it was the story of ten year old Jayci Yaeger's wish to be reunited with her father in her last days of her life. He is incarcerated on a drug charge and while near the end of his punishment behind bars, the warden did not constitute Jayci's wishes and her impending death to be "extraordinary circumstances." Now, I could write a book on what the hell is wrong with that thinking. Suffice it to say that for me and many others, at that moment, it was only about Jayci. Of course, I say that taking into account the fact that her father was and is not a mass murdered or terrorist. Also, I take into account that he is scheduled to be moved to a half way house in just four months. That indicates that he has served the vast majority of his five year sentence. As I had asked you all to do, I wrote to and spoke with not only the politicians in her hometown, but in my hometown as well. When I was met with their reluctance to involve themselves as it was a federal case, not one falling under local jurisdiction, I was one of many who then wrote to the President of the United States.

As many of you may recall, I had often responded when asked how I felt that Olivia was doing during the end of her journey here on earth that if the will to live was any indication of how long she would live, I knew she would make it until November 13, 2004. That was a day she was so looking forward to, and asked about so often. That was the day of a spaghetti dinner being held in her honor. After the dinner that night, she died for the first time. That was the night she later told me the "angels came for her, that she had seen the lights and did not want to go yet." She went with them the next time they came, just four days later. I do believe that our children hang on when there is something pressing they still have to do.

For Jayci, it was seeing her dad. After President Bush did intercede on her behalf (likely a result of the pressure we as a society delivered when so many of us spoke out), Jayci's dad was allowed another visit.

Jayci died just thirty six hours. I am beyond heartbroken that cancer has KILLED yet another innocent child. I am elated that as a society we did things that I truly believe helped Jayci achieve what she was waiting for...time with her daddy.

There is power in perserverance, and power in speaking up. Thank you to everyone who did just that.

Rest in peace sweet Jayci. Below is a news article chronicling what I just wrote.





OMAHA, Neb. — A 10-year-old Nebraska girl with terminal brain cancer had a simple last wish: to have her dad by her side as she lay on her death bed.

On Wednesday, seemingly against all odds, Jayci Yaeger's wish came true.

Her father, Jason Yaeger, who has been locked up in a South Dakota federal prison on methamphetamine charges, was allowed to see his daughter for what may be the last time.

He was furloughed after a barrage of letters and phone calls from around the country convinced officials to let him visit the hospital, according to KETV.com.

Jayci, who cannot speak, move or eat, could sense that her father was next to her and feel his touch, because she began breathing more heavily during his visit, the family told FOX News.

But to their disappointment, the visit lasted only about 30 minutes.

"She wants her dad. She goes to her room crying because she wants her dad," Jayci's mom, Vonda Yaeger, told KETV before the prison warden agreed to permit Jason to see his daughter.

The girl's condition has been described as minute-to-minute, and she recently suffered a stroke.

Vonda Yaeger said Jayci went into respiratory distress three times on Thursday.

Jason Yaeger has been behind bars for almost five years, and has battled drug addiction. He is scheduled to be released to a halfway house in August.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008 8:30 AM CDT

Yesterday, without even thinking about the date, as I was driving I asked myself the following question:

If I could turn the calendar back four years, what we do with our days? Then I realized that it was approaching the 18th. That means, we would have exactly eight months left together on this earth. Now, I asked the question to myself in a very real genre. What would we REALLY do....not a question begging some answer that I could not provide from a practical standpoint.

If I could turn the calendar back four years with the knowledge that I have today....

I would immediately today go out and buy a video camera. I didn't buy one until two weeks before Olivia flew to heaven. It would be constantly by my side, as automatically as I reached for my purse when we left the house, I would reach for the video camera too. I would document every one of Olivia's movements for history. Of course (and yes, I am completely serious), school would be a thing of the past. I would pull both Olivia and Noah out of school. What we would do with our days would supersede any lessons of 2 plus 2. And Noah could either catch up, or I could work with him on our journey. I would honestly go and find a house to rent on the ocean. Those of you that know me know that financially that would be a stretch. I would find a way to make it work. Likely, that would include something I have never done. It is likely that I would take a cash advance on the credit cards. Clocks and time would lose their importance. We would sleep when we felt like it, instead of our schedules being dictated by the time of day. We would eat the most wonderful of breakfasts as often as we (Olivia) wished. She loved chocolate chip pancakes, and it usually meant waiting for a weekend for me to make them. Not in this scenario. Want steak and eggs? We would have it. I would certainly put down the syringes. No more daily injections for my princess. Why would we care about daily growth hormone injections at that point? We would have the most wonderful time doing all the arts and crafts projects that a girl could handle. I imagine a room, or a well stocked closet with all the things that made Olivia happy in doing her projects. We would snuggle together daily for a book, or two or three. I would sleep right next to Olivia Grace every single night, with Noah snuggled in on her other side! Yes, a king sized family bed would be necessary. I imagine long walks on the beach daily, collecting sea shells as we walked.

I would ask Olivia so many questions, and write the answers down to everything I asked. At this point in the scenario, she would still be relatively healthy, as she was indeed four years ago. So, it would be the time to find out her true feelings about death. I would take that opportunity to find out how she imagined her funeral. Would she prefer to be cremated or not? I would use this time to talk to her more about her feelings, my feelings and Noah's feelings.

We would board that cruise ship that she wanted to. Amongst the stars, surrounded by the sea we would create many special memories. I would tell Olivia all of my feelings for her every single day. We would talk, talk and talk! I would never raise my voice and I would never have any specific expectations of her. Truly, whatever way the wind blew us on that particular day would be the way to go.

We would shop until we dropped, something Olivia loved to do. I would let her know how the thought of her not being here scares me.

I imagine the days would be carefree and we would take on sort of a gypsy like mentality. As I sit here and write this, I am actually picturing it in my mind. "If"....if only dreams could true......."If"......the word in the middle of L"if"e.....If only God could grant such special wishes, posthumously.

My heart hurts, and I am still left to wonder why our life turned out this way. I am so sorry Olivia....you deserved so much more. You deserved a chance to live before you died. Noah did not deserve to be in this fucked up situation with a broken heart and a life so viciously chartered off course into a war zone with such post traumatic stress. Why oh why can't you have just wish when it such an important one????

Thursday, February 21, 2008 6:34 AM CST

Dearest Olivia,

"They" tell me once again it is time to press forward. I am scared sweetie. The thought of purposely doing anything (and yes, this would have to be real purposeful) that seemingly is designed to remove me even farther from you is terrifying. It has been three years, three months and three days since you flew to heaven. The world, my world....our world.....is not the same. Never willl be. I do not claim to understand it, for I can't and won't. I just know I would have given my arm....or leg...or heart or my own less than functional brain for yours to be okay. You are a special girl, and I am beyond sorry. You are a good person, and I am beyond heartbroken. You are my best girl...and I am so angry that you had to get snatched away from this earth...from your brother, from yourself....and from me. I am hurt, angry and scared and I don't know how to work with all that. I remember when you would do your meditations, you would say the bad stuff that you were pushing away was "pain, fear and anger." It's still here darling daughter of mine. Maybe it's just that you moved away from it....it did not leave you.

Your brother needs me now, and I just wanna go back quite frankly. That being said, I absolutely owe this to him and will be 100 percent in the game with him. I know you would want it that way too. He is a hodge podge of embattled emotions and pain. I feel so sorry his life has turned, or is turning out, like this. With Noah, I know what ails him and I have a fighting chance to save him. That I promise I will do. He can be and do anything he wants. You and I both know that Olivia. You used to tell him that. It is a long, bumpy ride but I told him the other day on the set of the Dr Phil house, that I am in control once again of the ship. And while the ride may indeed get bumpy at times, I explained he can rest assured knowing I am in control of the course. I believe we hit our bottom there, and unlike the Titanic...one of your favorite movies!.....I can change the course of this ship. And I will.

Well sweetie, that is about all for now. Next time when I sit down and write, I will chronicle your "Freeing" ceremony that is soon enough to be viewed by twenty or so million people. What a fitting audience to witness the beauty of you....and the freeing of your soul into heaven. Fly high baby.....I miss you with every fiber of my being....From the Ground up to God Forever.....I'll be along before you know it. But for today, at least for right now...I am right here. I love you Olivia Grace Thompson, and love never dies.

Friday, January 25, 2008 6:50 AM CST

Today marks a point in Noah's life....

When Olivia had lived exactly the amount of days that Noah has now today.......

She had only one year left of her life.......

In Olivia's life progression, she reached this amount of days on November 18, 2003........

Leaving you with a quote:
"It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't." --B. Kingslover

Monday, January 21, 2008 8:48 AM CST

Maybe I Shouldn't Have Gone in There?

My sweet daughter's room was overdue for a cleaning and an organizing. I did it yesterday and did not expect after the time that has passed for it to be as hard as it was. I got to revisit her short life with every paper I read, every knick knack I rememebered, every toy I imagined playing with her.


Have I ever mentioned how I HATE childhood illness?

What kind of life is it to see three young children pass away in week? What kind of hope is there when your own child was killed from this disease? Every morning, one of my first "stops" is to see if a child I have been following has made it through the previous day...What is going on, and why oh why??

Milestone in a Few Short Weeks

In a few weeks, Noah is having a birthday. He is celebrating the last birthday that Olivia ever celebrated. That is hard enough in and of itself. I shudder to think of what next year holds...when I say "My son is twelve," knowing that my daughter never got that opportunity. It will be hard enough to say that Noah is eleven. Every time I say it, I will think of Olivia, immortalized in time at the age of eleven.

Wanna see what I found??
Olivia was not really expected to ever learn cursive writing. It was thought that with the insult to her brain, it would be better to work at perfecting her printing. True to my Olivia's tenacity...she surpassed all of our expectations. Here it is:





And, knowing this is kinda a downer of a post, I end it with a couple of jokes, courtesy of Olivia.

Thursday, January 10, 2008 6:31 AM CST

Last year while at the school music program, I decided that would be the last one for Noah. He does not enjoy it...he only goes because I "make" him. Olivia, on the other hand, loved it! She left a legacy of being a singing machine. That is why it is so hard for me to be there...I am only reminded of Olivia in previous years. Well, Noah
came home a month ago and said "Mom, I got a solo in this year's music program.(He's actually telling a joke)" Needless to say, we were going. It was last night. On the way there, I had to stop of some medicine at the store. The total bill....$11.11. Guess who had her hands in that one??

One of Olivia's most recognized mantras was "Breathe in the light...blow out the darkness." The other night,I was working on a photo project. I was going through a box in which I store all of my negatives (this way, if the house catches fire, I only have to grab the box). When I reached my hand in, I felt something hard. It was a sealed little note...I used to have a whole box of these little love notes that I'd stuff in my ex's pocket or something. Here it was...never opened. So, I opened it, and it said "Love is one game that is never called on account of darkness." Yes, it is dark now. But, Olivia let me know that our love is in play. Those notes are ten years old!!

I went to the doctor for my own self on Tuesday. That is still something that is very difficult to do. He did his exam, then concluded that I should drive right over to the diagnostic center "for a CT scan...." His mouth was moving, but he lost me there. When I caught up with him, I actually had to ask him to go back to that point and repeat all he'd said after that. Now, I wasn't freaking cuz of anything the CT could show....it was the mere words. I hadn't heard a doctor order us (me) to a CT scan right away since it happened with Olivia. It took me back.

Still wondering what happened to my life....how could it have changed as it did.....why oh why would my girl have to leave....what happened to her life.....all of it will never make sense.

Saturday, December 22, 2007 8:20 AM CST

Today, I wanted to share a letter with all of you, particularly those of you that were involved with what gave me purpose the first year of my grieving....our internet group "Olivia's Grace". For a woman so barely unable to get out of bed, much less out of the house for that year, it gave me a greatly needed sense of purpose. We were allowing Olivia's legacy to continue to shine and to prosper. I know she was proud.

Together, as a group of about 275 strong, we did soooo much! We were able to send Christmas boxes for five families...plenty of gifts under their trees that year. We sent over two hundred dollars worth of groceries to a family battling their own child's cancer, another high school boy was able to go his prom dressed in a tux and driven by a limo just a month before he passed, sent another family to their State Fair after the passing of their son. We had weekly challenges that ranged from card sends to guestbook signings by the hundreds when a family was at a particularly vulnerable place. As a group, we wrote the Texas government when Katie Wernecke was taken from her home, in the midst of her cancer treatment, unfairly. Anyhow, as a group over the course of that year, we were there for each other (many of our members were facing their own pediatric illnesses), for others we learned about, and for the common good of society. We promoted the "Olivia's Grace Random Acts of Kindness-Pay it Forward Campaign." The year ended with my being recognized on Dr. Phil for the work we were doing, and then later with one or two bad seeds sprouting....

By the first of the next year, trouble began brewing and I was left feeling I could not understand how I had gone from being this amazing leader doing all this good to someone perceived as so evil. After much hard work, accounts set up by strangers in my late daughter's name, address books hijacked and filth spread to all the addressees, and prayer, I had to just let it go. I never forgot how my name got tarnished in all of this, and that is what always bothered me. I always prayed that someday, the truth would come out. I just wanted some vindication, and yes, that was worth something. Last month, I received the following from a former member that believed for a long time that I was indeed part of something shady. It saddens me that she learned the truth the very hard way, but I am so grateful she chose to share it with me. I have deleted some of the names, out of respect for those who are completely innocent. If you are one of those people who were a part of our group, or know someone who was, I ask you to forward it on. Everyone deserves to know the truth, as so many of us had invested our time, energy, heart and money into what we were doing.

 

            
 










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