Showing posts with label survival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label survival. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

"I am ALIVE!" ........appreicating life!

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Horoscopes are funny things. I always look to see what mine says but often don’t agree with what I read. However the one below, which was in the L.A times on the weekend jumped out at me.



Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 23): The world you call normal is very different from what another person routinely experiences.



It is true, the world I call normal is different from most of my friends….and I hate that somedays….I am envious sometimes of what others have, their mom, all their siblings and of course their children, all in one piece, complete families…….

It’s helpful to be reminded over and over that there’s others who have suffered loss and rediscovered ‘life’ through grief and survival.  Other’s that also trudge through hardship some days, like a lead weight is tied to their heart.

Over the weekend, I watched a documentary on the History Channel which made me realize that what I’ve learnt through my losses has given my life new meaning……..even if it is um different. 

I wanted to share what I got out of the program to help any of you reading and searching for help….or hope!
The two hour doco was called “I am ALIVE!” It was about an Argentinian rugby team who survived a plane crash in the remote Andes mountains in 1972.



     A photo of the crash site taken by the survivors.....


With forty-five souls on board, the plane plummeted into a snowy mountainside where there was no life.  No food.  No water.  Just the survivors, surrounded by the skeleton of half the plane, death and hopelessness.

After ten days they began to eat the flesh from the deceased bodies, to stay alive…..something I couldn’t even contemplate.  But you do what you have to sometimes in order to survive.

During the seventy two days, they were stuck in freezing conditions and watched in horror as others perished from their injuries…..eight more were suffocated from an avalanche until finally, two of the remaining 16 men decided to hike out and try to find help to rescue those remaining……and amazingly they did….and the story gave me goosebumps.  I was inspired and fascinated...glued to the T.V.

While engrossed in the show, I realized that the theme and feelings of the survivors are the same for anybody….despair, suffering, lack of hope, resilience, depression…and grief, however, most important of all is how the human spirit through love can overcome….almost anything.


During the interviews with some of these remarkable human beings, are some compelling lessons and pieces of wisdom that I have to agree with.  One of the men, Nando Parrado,who walked forty miles over the desolate snow ridden Andes mountains to freedom said while on the mountain, facing death, he reflected on his life and what became important to him…… in his words…..”What simple things we need to be happy and how we demand lot’s more than we need in life!” I found myself nodding my head at the T.V.

We do sometimes get caught up in what we THINK is important, like money or possessions….instead of the little joys in life we often overlook.  Things for me like an all encompassing hug from a friend, or when Dempsey tells me with a cheeky smile, “I love you MORE Mommy!”  Yes, those things can’t be purchased. The tiny fragments of life and love…..those moments are what helps me realize how lucky I am.



     The ocean and Dempsey...two things I love and appreciate in this world!



Nando Parrado’s dearly loved mother and sister were killed in the crash.  Months after he got back to civilization he said the experience gave him a different philosophy on life because of what he'd learned through his grief…..“Rather than grieve and completely shut down, why not revel in life. Why not revel in the fact that I survived this.  I will take advantage of this life I have to do the things I love rather than not do anything at all." he said.

What an amazing outlook and spirit!  It’s people like Nando Parrado and this story of survival that fosters my spirit and strength.  Another example of what we, as survivors can do and how you should never give up or give in….sometimes we are rescued by old friends…or new, beloved family members, alive…or not.  And sometimes it’s hearing someone else’s story that feeds our will to take what we discover from grief and grow as a person to get to a place where life suddenly means so much more than it did.

I am a survivor, not of a plane crash but of losing loved ones whom I miss everyday.  And like these men, every step taken is a step…one step forward or two steps back……it IS a step.  And when grieving, that’s what we need to do, take baby steps…….forward and integrate your grief into your new life.  You've already chosen survival!

There are signposts along the way to tell you you’re on the right track.  Emotions that seem like mountains to climb and navigate through.  Brick walls you come up against.  Tears and questions you stumble through, but eventually you come to a place of acceptance, like a fork in the road, and your handicap can become an advantage….as in, you understand now how precious life is.  And like a seed that sprouts new growth, so will you.  One day you will blossom and use what you learned through your journey of survival into appreciation and love of every little thing.

I’d like to leave you with Nando Parrado’s last comment on the show, in a huge beaming smile he said “Life is simpler than it looks, love is the most important thing…love for our families kept us ALIVE!”



                                   The book written about the Andes Miracle



I can’t wait to read the book!




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Thursday, July 8, 2010

Joy mixed with sorrow mixed with joy!

Eighteen years ago today I was lying on a sun lounge around a sparkling swimming pool in a quaint little village in Germany named Friedrichsdorf. A place with cobblestone streets and a busy market, and the best pizza restaurant I've ever dined in called 'Mario's'. We lived there for four years because of Peter's work. I remember it like yesterday. You see eighteen years ago today my only sister Tarnia gave birth to her first child, a son, Alexander!

I remember the Fraulein from the hotel dashing out to the pool waving a phone, telling me there was a call from Australia......I remember my Mom's excited voice exclaiming Tarnia had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy. And I remember how carefree and easy my life was back then, when all those I loved were still in my world.

So today, I'm feeling mixed emotions, I'm excited that my nephew whom I adore will become an adult, that he can do all the things he has been waiting to do. In Australia, at age eighteen you can vote, legally drive a car and most important to him, enter an establishment that serves alcohol.



     Alexander at the back in blue with my sister, Tony and bubby Fraser

Alexander was eight when his Mom died. He and his brother Fraser, who was five and his twin sisters, who were babies of only six months old, were all strapped into their car seats for what should've been a lovely trip to the beach near their home on that fateful day. We'll never know what happened on that windy deserted road that leads to a magnificent stretch of beach in Australia, where there is seashells scattered everywhere on white sand and wild rolling waves, adding to its beauty.

What we do know from Alexander is that when Tarnia's car rolled over and over and finally smashed into a huge gum tree, the car ended up on its roof. I try not to think of the chaos that would've been going on in the car with all four children hanging upside down.....the twins screaming, Fraser crying, how terrifying it would've been. Also, how brave Alexander was at such a young age, courageously kicking out the car window and running to the road , flagging down the first passing car. What an amazing little boy he was!

He hasn't changed, over the past ten years I've watched him grow and mature into an amazing young adult, seemingly unaffected by the loss of his loved Mom and grief!

Alexander worked hard and entered an exclusive private school in Australia with a scholarship and went on to become an honor student. He diligently works two jobs, delivering medications on his pushbike around his town for the local pharmacist and washing dishes, as a 'dish pig' as he says, at a local restaurant.  He's been like another adult in his family after Tarnia's tragic death, caring for his little sisters and showing such responsibility the past ten years.  And at the end of this year he'll be off to University somewhere......

I can only conclude that his strength of character is because of how amazing the human spirit is. That we can seem to bounce back and strive to be better, even through such a significant life changing loss. Along with a supportive loving family and the counselling he had through his school after Tarnia died, leads me to believe he will continue to thrive and accomplish great things in his life and meet any challenge he is faced with in the future.

    My dad with the my sister's kids and Dempsey, taken Christmas Day 2009. Alexander in blue!

I love him like my own son and feel happiness for him today, swirled and mixed around with a sadness that Tarnia isn't here to hug him or tell him how very much she loves him as she always did.

And usually, when I phone him on his special day, I remind him where I was was when he came into this world, of the pool and Germany and how besotted his Mom was when he was born....and every year he laughs and tells me "Yeah, yeah, I know, you were sitting around a pool in Germany right?" And we both laugh!

But today when I call, on his eighteenth birthday into adulthood, I'll tell him the things his Mom can't. Like how special I think he is and how if his beloved Mom was alive she would be just so so so proud of who he has become. He's never talked about the accident with me, just of how he misses his Mom some days........

I'm sure if she can, Tarnia will be sending him some sign from heaven to make him aware, that somehow, she knows and misses him too! x


      Tarnia and Alexander..........

Thursday, June 24, 2010

The ambush!

At the moment I should be doing a 1000 word essay on inequality in society, instead I decided to fill in a survey that just popped into my inbox from the MISS Foundation (a foundation that provides support for grieving parents and families). 

It's a gorgeous summer morning here, with a slight breeze.  My neighborhood dogs are barking in the background as I'm typing.  Ten minutes ago I completed the survey with tears pouring down my face to the point where I couldn't read what I was typing.

At the beginning of the survey there was a warning that the following questions may bring back feelings of pain and sadness.  I had no idea answering a few questions would take me back in time and have such a profound effect on me.  However, I hope I've helped give this doctor an insight into what it's like to lose a child and how the pain is still present and still manages to simmer under the surface of someone grieving, yes, even after six years.

And yesterday I had another doctor call me and ask if I was interested in participating in her study for grieving parents.  I briefly told her a small version of my losses, as brief as you can be when trying to describe how my life fell apart over the last few years.......she listened with compassion which I appreciated. Unfortunately she said I wouldn't qualify for the study because they are looking for people taking anti depressants or are prepared to do a trial with placebo's and anti depressant medication.

You see I haven't had to rely on the help of med's or a counsellor...maybe I should have or maybe I'm not really coping as well as I think I am. :) The doctor was fascinated as to how I cope on a daily basis, what some of my survival techniques are. The most important one I told her was that I was fortunate to have an amazing mother who instilled inside me that I could do anything in this world I put my mind to....that I would survive my losses, especially Savannah's. I also told her I have friends who have probably saved my life by being there for me, even at times they don't know it. That hugged me and listened, truly listened without judgement or silly meaningless advice. And as I was talking I had an out of body experience, like I was talking about someone else.

She told me she found it interesting, that at a grief conference she just attended recently, most, not all, but most, people who had to take medication didn't have that same wonderful closeness with a mother or have the amazing support network of friends that I described. I found this interesting and sad that others haven't experienced what I have.


So I've been thinking about her opinion and I know some people HAVE to rely on prescribed medication and that's okay too. When you are sludging your way through the depths of despair you need any crutch you can find to help you. And I think if people aren't fortunate enough to have that support system they can seek it out in the way of counselling or support groups...to which there are many.

I did go to a counsellor once, when I couldn't decide whether to try for another IVF baby or not...what an experience that was! The woman sat opposite me swinging on her swivel chair and talking about her problems to me! I know not all counsellors are like the one I saw and I think if you find a connection with one who can help you it would be priceless.

So today I'm having a blue day, a pity party as I call it, I'm feeling exhausted and drained after crying so much!  My university assignment is sitting next to me, staring at me, needing to be attended to.  There's a sink full of dirty breakfast dishes, coco pops on our rug next to me and a washing machine full of wet clothes!  But today I think I'll seize the day!  I need a little bit of TLC, Savannah's birthday is next Wednesday and already the pain of what I know lies ahead is lurking over me like a black cloud. 

But I'm thinking, forget all the unimportant stuff, I'm going to go take a hot shower, put on some pink lipstick and something pretty and go pick up Dempsey and take her to the local open air mall where they have unique fountains that shoot water into the air.  I'm going to grab a latte, chill at the fountain and soak in the atmosphere with Dempsey and hopefully some other mom's who are naive to grief!  Superficial yes, but hopefully this will cure my case of the blues today and put some sunshine in my blue cup! :)



         Demps at the fountain's last summer!

Friday, May 14, 2010

Way's you can honor a loved one who has died.

(Note; today's post is for Sara.....I hope you can do something special in honor of your beautiful baby boy to ease your pain....even if its just a little. x)



Have you ever been on a roller coaster when all of a sudden you panic, you want to get off...but you can't....you feel scared, there's nothing you can do.....your body is engulfed in fear and it seems like YOU aren't in control anymore....that's what grief feels like to me!

One way that helped me control my grief was to find ways to honor those I've lost in a memorable way.  Doing this created some sense of purpose amongst the chaos that followed each of my losses.....that I was in control of at least something in my life. 

There are many ways you can remember a loved one, the following are just some I've done but may help give you some idea's to help bring you comfort and a feeling of purpose amid your suffering.

For Tarnia, my sister, I asked the funeral director to cut off four locks of her shiny brown hair....I tied each one in a blue satin ribbon for her children.  When they are older, they will have something physical of their mother....especially her twin girls, who never knew her.  I also cut Savannah's hair into a bob before they took her.  I have her golden curls carefully hidden away and don't have the courage to take it out and run my fingers through it....but I will one day....most importantly it's hers, and I'm glad I kept it.

We also planted a cherry blossom tree for Tarnia, one that would bloom around the time of her anniversary each year.


My favourite photo of Savannah taken two months before she died

For my adored Mom, I took her favorite lilac silk shirt and gave it to Dempsey as a security blanket.  Dempsey still has what remains of it today on her bedside table, its ragged and dirty but reminds me of Mom!  I wear her engagement ring with pride and her picture sits where I can see it everyday.....I am able to smile now when I look at it.

And for our angel Savannah, there are so many things I did, and do and will continue to as a legacy to her time here with us.  Because of her death, I'm an Ambassador to The Make A Wish Foundation and volunteer at The Let It Be Foundation....these are other things you can do.  But where to start with Savannah...I guess a few days after she died.......

Savannah's life...and death...had a profound effect on alot of our friends....one special family in particular honored her in such a unique way.  The day after she died a huge cardboard box was delivered to our door amongst all the floral bouquets.....inside were two golden frames from the International Star Registry.  Our friends named a star in Savannah's honour.....its impossible to describe in words the comfort that fills my heart when I look up in the heavens at night knowing there's a twinkling star named after our precious girl.



Savannah was cremated, I couldn't bear the thought of not having her in our home so as morbid as this may sound to some, she sits in a princess urn, on a special shelf Peter created in our family room, where I can pick her up and still hold her.......amongst Dempsey's toys and drawings and mess and noise and visitors that come into our home.

I searched everywhere for a special candle for her shelf, which is pink with rainbow glass.  I light it and it brings me peace as I feel her spirit is present......its almost buried now in angel figurines, cards and other special special gifts friends have kindly given me. 

However the thing that brings me the most comfort is my gold locket I wear everyday.  You see the locket to other people is just a piece of jewellery, but to me its healing and meaningful as it is a tiny urn that holds some of her ashes.  I feel that a part of her hangs over my heart always....she goes with Peter, Dempsey and me wherever we are.


                                                                  Savannah's shelf

As I mentioned in an earlier post, we planted a rose bush and other families I know have created glorious gardens where they can sit peacefully and contemplate.  A friend that lost her little girl had teddy bears sewn for her two daughters out of her angel's clothing....her remaining girls get so much comfort out of these.

There's quilts and cushions that can be made from clothing, special photo frames, scrapbooking, jewellery and plaster casts........all these wonderful treasures that can immortalize the person you miss so much.

And the final one I did for Savannah, that was so personal and hurt so much, one I also carry with me where nobody else can see it...its just for me in memory of our daughter...a tiny butterfly tattoo!

So I hope some of these things I've done can give you some ideas and bring you comfort and meaning as you travel on your journey and empower you to feel in control, somehow.  I know my collection isn't finished, and never will be........

Wishing you sunshine if your cup is blue today! :) x

Friday, May 7, 2010

The anticipation of Mother's Day - in Joy and Sorrow

Mother's Day is only a few days away and already the anticipation of getting through it is eating away at me.  Every year I hope I'll be different and tell myself....."I'll be better this year"....but the truth is it hurts! 

It should be a day where I feel spoilt and loved, surrounded by my TWO daughters......I know Peter will do his best to make it special.....and Dempsey will fill my heart with warmth until it feels it may burst.  However,  that doesn't make up for it being one of those hard days you have to face each year....one that feels like a band-aid being ripped off a wound......and this morning my tears started, unexpectedly, bitter sweetly, after I read some comments my beautiful family had left on my Facebook page, that meant so much to me, after they looked at some photos of Savannah...... 

I wish my mothers day would be different, but its not going to be......Mothers Day will never truly be complete for me anymore....so I have to try and look at what I do have and be happy I have two daughters where some Mom's don't even have a child!

Peter reminded me at breakfast this morning to look at the beauty in the world...."Look out the window Dee, the rose bush has gone berserk!"



 The bush isn't just any rose bush....it's the one we planted and watered through our tears a few days after Savannah died.......overnight it seems to have gone wild, just in time for Mother's Day.....it's loaded with tiny white buds and blooming roses, out in all their glory.  I like to think Savannah has arranged for this to happen, that it's part of her Mothers Day gift to me....if only :)  On Sunday morning I'll take the scissors and collect as many of these dainty white roses as I can, fill a vase and place them on Savannah's special shelf.  I'll also put some next to the photos of my Mom and my sister Tarnia.





So for those of you reading this, who are struggling if you have lost a child or your mom, or someone special that will mean something to you on Sunday....I wish you strength to get through the day with whatever you may need.....and even though its tough, try and smell the roses that are in your life.

I write a column for www.opentohope.com below is my article they posted yesterday for Mother's Day....I hope it can bring you some strength and support that you aren't alone on your Mother's Day! x


Mother's Day brings Joy - and Sorrow by Diana Doyle

Every year on the morning of Mother’s Day I cry.


On this special day I’m greeted with a huge dimpled smile from our daughter Dempsey, who sneaks into our room, usually with a present she has made for me, hidden behind her back. The moment tugs at my heart strings, and I cry.

I cry at how lucky I am to have her in my life and I cry that our other daughter Savannah, who would be ten years old, isn’t with her sister, giving me a huge hug too and climbing into bed beside us.

If I go to the supermarket I cry. So, I’ve learned to stay away from the stores where people are queued at the checkout with colorful bunches of cheerful flowers, boxes of chocolates and cards for their mothers.

I cry when I think of my sisters four children, because they don’t have their mom to spoil. And of their Dad, Tony, who struggles on Mothers Day because his wife is missing out.

I cry when I remember past Mother’s Days when I could simply pick up the phone and call my adored Mom and tell her how much I love her. And then I remember my Mother’s words, her Mothers Day gift to me that can never be taken away – and I find myself smiling!

Her lessons, which she taught me while she was alive…..to be grateful for the simple things that I’m surrounded with, like love, family, friendships, and the compassion I have for others who are struggling to survive through their Mother’s Day without their loved ones.

My mother celebrated every day she was alive with enthusiasm and gratitude for everything we are blessed with. Like days when the sun streams in through your window or the smell of fresh jasmine. She taught me attitude drives destiny, so I try each Mother’s Day to channel her positive outlook into my day.

It’s difficult not to have a pity party on Mother’s Day, but I find by lunchtime the day gets easier, I put on something pretty, try to put a smile on my face and embrace the irresistible love my daughter showers on me and be thankful that I’ve survived another hard day the best way I could.

Down the street from our house, are cherry blossoms trees, which are in full bloom this time of year. They were my Mom’s favorite, a small reminder of her I carry with me! I purposely drive by them, think of her and know she would be proud that I’m trying to pass her valuable lessons of appreciation on to my daughter for her future Mothers Day!



PS; Today's blog is in honor of those who are facing their first Mother's Day without their loved one....I will be thinking of you and wishing you sunshine at some stage in the day x

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Acknowledging Loss and Learning to live!



Saturday night we went to a friends birthday party.  We stumbled through the front door loaded up with drinks and Dempsey's things like we had just left 'Toys R Us'......upon arriving I was introduced to an attractive lady with a warm welcoming smile, who shook my hand, introducing herself, her husband and  her gorgeous teenage daughter, who had dimples like Dempsey. 

A little while later, a friend took me aside and whispered that the lady I had just met belonged to the same club as me......no, not 'Brownies' or the local 'Mom's Group'.......a club no-one ever wants to be part of.  Like me, she had lost one of her daughters.

I looked at her trying to see if there was any indication of her grief...no, there were no visible scars, no big red sign hanging around her neck that screamed "My daughter died and I miss her", she seemed happy, laughing and chatting away like any other party goer.  I wondered how she was coping and wondered if I should approach her and tell her I was sorry for her loss, and that she wasn't alone....that my daughter had died too.  I decided it was the right thing to do, and that if it was me I'd want someone to do the same......to acknowledge my loss!

So I did, and we sat amongst the noise and shared our struggles about life NOW, she, with tears in her eyes, making me aware her grief is still raw and fresh....we talked about how sad it is that we don't get to say our daughters name as much anymore and how somedays you feel like shouting to the world how hard it is.  However, we also laughed and talked about clothes and kids and wine and normal things that women talk about at a party. 

When your grief is fresh, social situations can make you feel vulnerable..."What if someone asks if Dempsey is my only child?"  or like the many times before, if confronted by my story, people clam up, not knowing how to respond.  Before the death of my family members, I would've been one of those people too....but now I know its best to acknowledge the persons loss and show some compassion, even if its just a " I can't imagine how hard it must be." 

As I hugged this new friend and thanked her for sharing her story, I looked around the room, no-one else had any idea about our 'new' identities, how loss changes you forever, but also, how you can learn to laugh again and enjoy yourself despite losing a loved one.  You don't want to be known as a victim but as a survivor.....and she, like me is a survivor.

Meeting her reinforced to me again, that the human spirit is an amazing thing.  We both share something extroadinary in common, however, despite our losses, we can still put on a pretty dress, smile, and be like any other person in the room.  You do learn to hide under a mask of make-up and CAN, again, enjoy every challenge and expereince life continues to throw at you.....even if it is too many red wines, on a Saturday night, with a group of loving friends, simply enjoying life....sometimes thats the best medicine of all!

I hope this post can bring you some comfort and know that you will, and can, have sunshine again in your blue cup. :) x


Dempsey and me, Saturday before the party :)

Friday, April 30, 2010

Some signs from heaven to help you 'BELIEVE'

Anyone who has lost a loved one is always searching for a 'SIGN' from heaven....something, anything that will help them 'believe' that their lost ones are around....that they somehow know we miss them. 

After losing three of my family members I now BELIEVE and take comfort in the signs I find hard to accept are just a coincidence. 

For a long time after my sister died I waited for 'a sign', something from her to tell me she was ok, that her spirit was around.  I waited for pictures to fall off walls, or to see her ghost in the hallway....I now know these aren't the signs we should be looking for.  It's the little things we need to notice, and I've had many. 

These are just a few..........................

After my sister Tarnia died I kept seeing something move out the corner of my eye, like a flash, like someone was in the room with me, it happend for maybe two months, then, as suddenly as it started it stopped.  I even considered going to an eye doctor it was so annoying.  Just after it stopped my friend Sally called me.  She knew my sister,  and told me I was going to think that she was crazy....then she went on to explain that in the weeks after Tarnia's death she too had this flickering experience.  I instantly got goosebumps as I hadn't shared my experience with her.  I like to believe it was Tarnia!

Since then, I've had so many 'signs', that I smile now when they happen.

The morning after Savannah died I opened our back sliding door to a tiny feather, white with splashes of gold in it, like her hair.....drifting down to greet me.  I looked up and all around to see if there were birds, or a nest, there was nothing, just this tiny, dainty, fluffy feather, floating to my feet.   They say feathers are a sign from heaven and it since then, alot of times on a hard day, I see a feather lying in my path......a coincidence maybe?

Then there's butterflies, and hummingbirds, they say these are messengers from the other side, sent to deliver a message.  I once had a hummingbird fly within a few inches of my face, and just hover, staring at me, humming and buzzing....now I know you are smiling now, thinking I'm crazy to believe such things....BUT, that same day, my brother was visiting us in America from Australia.  A few hours after this happened to me, he rushed into the kitchen saying "Diana...you won't believe what just happened....this weird looking bird just flew straight at me and hovered near my face, then flew off!"  We don't have hummingbirds in Australia so you can imagine his surprise.  Mark doesn't believe in signs but when I told him he, like me, wondered if it was our Mom delivering her love, happy, that her two children were together.

I've had songs that mean something only to me, come on the radio when I'm blue, butterflies land on me and found dimes(which they say are pennies from heaven, a sign from a loved one!), feathers, and dreams.

Savannah's favorite song came on the loud speaker at the supermarket a few days after she died, while I was pushing my cart around the deserted aisles, lost in my grief....it had to be her!!!!!  I take comfort in these tiny messages that others think are just coincidences!

And that tiny feather, the gift I got from Savannah the day after she died.....I carry everywhere with me, its in a secret pocket in my wallet, tucked away behind my favorite photo of her.  It's a constant reminder to 'BELIEVE!"




So look for the little things, and take comfort in them.....I'd love to hear what yours are?

Now, when my bladder wakes me at night and I stumble to the bathroom in total darkness, I still look outside, hoping and dreaming that one day I'll see a little shadow with curls running around our garden.....


PS:  Just as I'm sitting here typing this, a pretty white butterfly is flitting around our yard! :)  I hope this post will bring you some comfort, or a smile, or some sunshine in your blue cup today! x

Friday, April 23, 2010

Things that can help on your blue days!


Everyone has blue days.....the days when you feel like pulling the blankets over your head and not moving.  I call them my 'pity party' days.

If you are grieving or going through tough times, those days come on sometimes without warning, like a huge tidal wave that crash's down on you. 

Then there are the obvious ones....birthdays, anniversarys or just special ones that mean something to you.  Sometimes, I see a little girl that reminds me of Savannah, and thats enough to set me off!  Or like the day when I followed a lady around a store because she wore the same perfume as my MOM :)....crazy I know, but when hard days happen, sometimes its like you have no choice in being down. 

Anything can trigger a 'pity party' day......when mine happen I surround myself with my comfort collection.  I do whatever I need to to get through the day, sometimes taking things minute by minute if I have to....then I tell myself......"Tomorrow will be a better day!" Try and put a smile on my face and do what I need to do!


Above are my things, my survival kit on my blue days....what are yours?

Dempsey
My gold locket(whats inside is the special thing, which I'll talk about in another blog) on a chain, with my 'believe' charm and my dad's St Christopher medal
A phone call to a loved one
Chocolate
A crisp glass of wine
Loud Music that I can feel sad with
Peanut Butter....or any comfort food
Candles
Trashy magazines to escape reality :)
My pillow
And last and most importantly is one I couldn't photograph....but  that gives me the biggest comfort of all
LOVE!!

I hope you find some sunshine today to fill your blue cup if you need to!  :)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

"Friends"

Dempsey with two of her best friends....my sister's twins Emerald and Charlotte.....Dempsey's cousins who adore her :)




You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. "Charlotte from Charlotte's Web"


So I'm sitting here with my laptop on my lap :)  I feel an overwhelming sense of being loved today! 

Friends, what does that word conjure up for you?  I looked it up in my online dictionary what the definition of a friend is...this is what they say:  a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

What is a friend to you?  A friend to me is someone who is there for you 24/7, sometimes they just listen, or embrace you in a hug, make you laugh, or cry, and sometimes they offer advice, whether it be good or bad......and sometimes, they provide you with all you need to get through a day!

After Savannah died, I lost alot of 'friends', I think my grief and loss was too hard for some.  Before my daugther died, I was one of those girlfriends that you wanted to have around, when times were good and I would dance on an occasional table or be funny, ....but then the times set in when I needed a bit more than just laughter and light heartedness.....when I needed someone to ask three little words!  "How are you?"  Just a few words but so powerful and meaningful to someone who has lost their way.

My Dad has always said to me that you are very lucky if you can count your true friends on one hand!  I feel very lucky!  Now, today, I'm fortunate to have such very very special friends, who have become a lifeline, even when they don't know it.  They make me laugh out loud sometimes, and sometimes they fill me with such an overwhelming sense of grattitude at how lucky I am...it really is a physical feeling that causes a warm feeling in my soul.

Anyone going through a loss or challenge needs to surrounds themselves with true friends, energy givers I call them!  I've got rid of all my energy suckers, people that were in my life for the wrong reasons and who sucked the energy out of me....somedays when I had none.

So now I tell all those who help me survive, who put light in my life how important they are to me......maybe one day they'll need my ear to listen.  I'll feel so blessed to have been able to have helped them the way they have me!

On my blue days I know I have a handful of people that I can turn to who will make me feel better, make me feel loved and fill my blue cup with sunshine!  I hope you do to! :) x

PS; just as I hit the post button to publish this....a downy white feather floated down from the sky and landed a few feet away from me, my neighbor Renee who has just lost her cousin was with me...so we were fighting over who the feather was for :) ....they say feathers are a sign from a loved one in heaven(which I'll write about in another blog)....I can only imagine its one of my loved ones letting me know they are thinking of me :)

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Savannah - Our angeL - Her Story


Savananh was born on a cold winter day in Sydney Australia, surrounded by love.  I don't think I've ever been happier than I was in that moment.  Here was this tiny bundle, a daughter, all I'd ever dreamed of, placed in my arms, a gift!  The night she was born I didn't want to go to sleep.  I just wanted to have her next to me and look at her!  June 30, 1999, everything was perfect in my world!

Fast forward to March 2002.


 
I was 14 weeks pregnant with our second child.  My husband Peter and I had moved from country Australia to the fast paced Los Angeles for Peter's work.  My days were filled with watching Savannah draw, devour books, swim and her favorite, collect pine cones in a little red wagon she would pull along behind her.  Somedays, I had to pinch myself at how lucky I was.  However, around this time my happy world was to be shattered....if I had've had a crystal ball back then I wouldn't have believed what was about to happen to my "perfect" little family.....my baby, my world..Savannah!

I had noticed Savannah's right eye appreared to have turned in towards her nose and her walking seemed to be getting a little on the wobbly side.  After visiting countless doctors, who assured us all she would need was a small operation to correct the turned eye, we met with one who was about to change everything!

The doctor at the L.A Childrens Hospital ordered an MRI immediately.  I wasn't concerned at all, it was just a precaution she told us.  I've had three phone calls in my life that have changed me, this one would change my life, my world, and everybody around me, forever.


 At four a.m. the morning after Savannah's MRI, I woke to the soothing sound of the shower running, reminding me that Peter would be leaving early, for work in Atlanta. With an hour or more for sleep, before he’d go, hard as I tried, my anxious mind wouldn’t let me back into my dreams. I couldn’t wait to call the doctor and get the MRI test results. At nine a.m., before I had the courage to call, the phone rang.

“The good news is there is no tumor in Savannah's brain,” Dr. Buffen said.


“Oh, Thank God!” I mumbled, slumping into the nearest chair.


“But,” she went on, “there are some changes in the white matter of Savannah’s brain.”


“What does that mean?” I asked, while shaking my head in adamant denial of whatever she would say.


“I’m not quite sure,” she continued, “but I don’t think there should be any changes. I’ll check with the radiologist and call you back.”

Not too alarmed yet, I really wanted my Mom at that point, so I called her in Australia, telling her the findings. Her always-positive attitude usually made me feel better straight away and sure enough, she pointed out that Savannah was an active little two year old, certainly not a sick one. Like me, she couldn’t imagine there was anything too seriously wrong and encouraged me to not worry and just wait for the doctor’s next call. At mid-afternoon, misplaced hope faded, when the call came in.....

Savannah was engrossed in the TV then, watching “Winnie the Pooh.” I was standing on a chair in the kitchen, scrubbing out the cupboards, trying to keep at least my body occupied, while I awaited the doctor’s next phone call. The telephone rang and I raced to answer it. Dr. Buffen had spoken with the radiologist. What she said next was devastating--worse than even my rampant imagination had come up with.

“This is very, very serious,” she said. “You and your husband need to come in to Los Angeles Children’s Hospital tomorrow, to discuss the findings of Savannah’s MRI.”


I could hear my heart thumping, as I asked her what they’d found. I could hardly breathe, barely got the words out.


“Savannah appears to have some form of leukodystrophy, a genetic condition which affects the white matter of her brain.”


I wrote the word down. Such a foreign and ugly word to have anything to do with our beautiful, precious child! I could hardly pronounce it, let alone spell it. I had the doctor spell it out for me, so I could look it up and not mistake it for anything else. Her next sentence was the worst blow of all.


“In most cases the condition is fatal.”

There was that awful word--“fatal”! I could not comprehend that one. Mind and body were reeling, could not cope with the implications of that word. I kept repeating over and over, that there must have been a mistake. Some mix-up of her test results. By then, I was too afraid to breathe, to think, or speak another word. Anything I said would have to only make things worse, I thought, so better to keep quiet and let the doctor apologize for their mistake. Which of course, it wasn’t.

After I’d said goodbye, my hands were shaking so hard, I almost couldn’t type the ugly “l” word into the computer’s search engine. And, as bad as I already thought things were, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to learn. When I saw what came up, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. What I couldn’t avoid reading was that there are at least thirty-seven forms of leukodystrophy. With each line I read, more tears poured out, threatening to drown the keyboard. Savannah was right by my side, still in her flannel jammies, and I stared at her, shaking my head in stubborn disbelief. How could this be happening to our beautiful little girl? It had to be wrong! There had to have been a mistake.

The first form I read about was called MLD--metachromatic leukodystrophy. The entry described how patients would lose all of their physical abilities, one by one, becoming bedridden, unable to speak and eat, with blindness following. Seizures and paralysis would then occur, with death the certain outcome, within three to five years after onset. It was too shocking for me to grasp, but one symptom described was an unsteady gait, which I swear made my heart stop. I didn’t want to believe I’d read that, but deep down I knew that article was describing my little girl and what she’d been doomed to, by some disgustingly unfair fate. At that moment, I knew the doctor was going to be right. I had to call Peter.

My fingers barely working, I tried to phone Peter who was in Atlanta, a half-day’s flight away. Once I heard his voice, my sobbing was unstoppable. I’m sure I was totally incoherent, trying to repeat what the doctor had told me. Peter was speechless. Like me, he was not prepared for such unbearable news.

“We’ll see Dee, maybe it’s a mistake,” he said, trying to believe that.

And so began our journey of hope........................