Thursday Blogger

On your blog, if you can, share about some of your most sad, challenging, difficult moments in your life.
Share if you can.
Share how you overcame....
Share how you have grown, gotten stronger.

Okay, here we go! Over the course of my 36 years on this earth there have been many sad and challenging moments. Life started out rough with 16 year old parents and an abusive alcoholic father. It was always one big roller coaster and I truly believe that's why I always have that "the rug will be pulled out from underneath me any moment" feeling. It sits in the back of my mind in a little room with the door half opened just waiting to come out.

In the past 9 years three moments have arisen that have totally caught me off guard and devastated me. By the grace and mercy of God I have made it through a stronger person. On July 3, 1997 my first niece was born to my brother and SIL. She was the most beautiful tiny blonde hair blue eyed baby. Who would've known that by December 14, 1997 her little soul would've drifted off to heaven leaving us all in disbelief. The doctors could never reveal what was the cause of her slow demise. She fell ill instantly after birth and it was such a struggle for her and her parents over the next 5 months. They decided to take her off her ventilator. I think back on that time being allowed to enter the room after she passed. She layed there on that bed like a little angel and I held and rocked her so longing for some sort of miracle -- for her to start breathing again. Her death jolted my father back in to drinking. I've never seen my father, a grown man - my rock, be crippled to his knees as I did then.

The next occurrence would be the shocking death of my father on October 30, 2001. The man I loved and admired sooo much despite his faults. I could always overlook them, how I don't know. Everyone would always say that I was such a daddy's girl and that they knew I was his favorite. I still get teased by my mother and siblings to this day. My father had fallen ill on September 30th. He was in bad times physically, emotionally and financially. It landed him in the hospital with kidney failure. I thought that was the end then. He recovered and was released from the hospital within a week. I was there every day for him taking him to doctor's appointments, grocery shopping for him, and staying by his side because he wanted company. It was hard for me. He would call me 15-20 times a day, but never once did I not pick up the phone. He kept telling me he thought he was dying. I kept telling him he was crazy. He was different. More kind. More gray hair. More loving. He wanted the grandkids to be there all the time.

This one day he asked me to come over for lunch and I told him I couldn't. I told him I'd come on Tuesday after Marisa's first ballet class. He was so excited she was going to dance. I talked to him Monday night and he sounded very tired. I asked him if he was okay and he just replied with this, "I'm just tired, Tami." Well, little did I know it was going to be the last time I'd ever talk to him. Tuesday came and I never got a call in the morning like I had been getting all the other mornings. I just dismissed it. I came home from dance and noticed on the caller ID he hadn't called. I was so tired that I layed Marisa and I down for a nap and missed our lunch date. I still hadn't heard from him by 6 pm so I called his house. He lived with his ex-wife -- weird I know. A strange man answered the phone when I called. I asked if my dad was there in a confused cocky voice. He said to hold on. Maureen got on the phone and I asked her if my dad was there. These words ring LOUD in my head still to this day. "Tami, he's dead." It was like a joke or something. I fell to my knees and screamed until Dave came running and took the phone. I don't remember much after that except my MIL coming over to watch Marisa and going to my dad's house. My one brother was there. He went in and saw my dad. I couldn't. I still can't even drive down his street. I miss him so much! But with one life taken, another life was given to me. I found out within a week of the funeral I was pregnant with my little Collin.

The last event was the most recent. Once again the same brother and SIL, Bob and Rose, gave birth to another child, their second since the passing of Autumn. They had already had Makayla and she was a beautiful little toddler all healthy and full of life. So they tried again and had McKenna on May 5, 2004. Once again the health of the baby deteriorated fast. I felt so bad for my brother and his wife that they would once again be going through this, but I thought it would be different this time. I didn't think God would allow these two people to endure this pain again. I was wrong, but I do not question God. McKenna passed away on August 1, 2004 in a hospice. She was so loved! I went to visit her many times rocking her and praying God would spare her little life -- give us a miracle! My mom was devastated. She is a devout religious woman and she surely thought with her prayers and fasting that the Lord would spare this grandchild of hers. Well, unfortunately it was meant for little McKenna to be in Heaven with Him. We miss her! Her big sister Makayla misses her! She talks about her sisters in heaven all the time -- sweet thing! My SIL has recovered from the initial pain, but it's taken a bit more from her delicate soul. She is a strong woman and I admire her completely!

Sorry for the book! And now that I've relived all these moments and am in tears it's time to go find a tissue. It's all in the healing process. No matter how many tears these memories bring forth, I wouldn't be the person I am without them.