Farewell Frankie

Dearest Frankie,

Oh, today is a tough day.  We thought about this – warred in our minds – discussed with Dr. Mercak, and I reviewed Lap of Love website. Making this decision was so very difficult. However, it was very heart-wrenching watching you struggle over the last few weeks.

As daddy said to me, “he wants to stay, but he is hurting so badly.” Your arthritis has progressed despite the medication, and you look like you hurt walking and especially getting up and down.  You can’t get comfortable but you try.  Your cough and honking due to your heart murmur have become more frequent despite medication. You are disoriented and have a hard time finding the doors, and we hate seeing you run into walls, tables, and chairs. You try so hard to hit pee pads for preventing accidents, but we can tell it bothers you.

There is a beautiful Rainbow Bridge that leads to doggie heaven. It’s where beloved pets can be happy, pain-free and back to their old-selves. That’s where you are going today, and we are here with you for your final journey.

You will be the best-dressed little old man in doggie heaven. When you get to the other side, Mac, Bambi, Matthew, Yogi, Roxy, Aries, and Rhiannon will be waiting with open paws to welcome you to the family. Maybe you and Mac can play tug-of-war again!

You will be cured of arthritis and can wander wherever you want safely and without pain and lay in the sun you so-love. Your heart will be healed so you won’t cough and honk like you swallowed a horn, and you can play with toys again. And if God blesses, he will give you your sight back so you can see beautiful doggie heaven.

Frankie, we will miss you and miss you every day. Thankfully, mommy has photos and videos that can be viewed when we need to enjoy precious memories. Daddy’s chair will be lonely. We love you very much.  Thank you for blessing us with so much love, joy and laughter for 3 years. Go our little man and enjoy doggie heaven. . . farewell Frankie.

With Love,

Daddy and Mommy

A Day Can Change Your Life

March 8, 2016 . . . a day that changed my life. After 7 long, lonely months, I had to make a change. I received a phone call that told me the crew that was supposed to build the log cabin would be there on March 8. I had spent over 5 months just to get to this point, and I was bound and determined to complete the construction.

It took days before I could gather up enough courage to go out and see the construction start and be fulfilled. I got to the property after lunch time and introduced myself to Glen, the crew chief. I stayed for a few hours while watching the process of stacking logs start.

I met the four-man crew, Glen, Raymond, Charlie and a very handsome, but quiet man Roger. There was something about Roger that intrigued me and he was also very good-looking.

The second day I showed up, Roger wasn’t there. Glen’s son-in-law was there instead. I introduced myself to him and asked, “so are you taking Roger’s place?” He said no and that Roger would show up the next day.

Long story, short version . . . Roger and I were immediately attracted to each other. After my loss, I didn’t think that I could ever feel attracted to another man. I didn’t take my sunglasses off for weeks. I didn’t want Roger to know I was watching him. Needless to say, he was watching me too.

But destiny and God had a different path for me and Roger… we collided into a wonderful and roller-coaster-ride relationship. I had to build the cabin, sell my old house, take care of a blind rescue pup, try to explain to family and friends that I couldn’t fathom the thought of going back to work. We were drawn to each other in a God-wink moment.

Little did I know God’s plan for me. John was taken away too quickly, but he left me self-sufficient and confident. He made sure that I could fulfill our dream of building the log cabin.

In the process, I met a man who melted my heart. I believe that John hand-picked the man who would be perfect for me. They have so many similarities, it’s scary… and yet there are so many differences. But, I know John knew I couldn’t exist alone… he didn’t want me to be alone and unloved.

Thank you, God, for giving me the strength and fortitude to build the cabin.
Thank you, God, for bringing Roger into my life.
Thank you, God, for giving me another chance to love.
Thank you, Roger, for sticking by my side through thick and thin.
Thank you, Roger, for staying with me despite all of the obstacles.
I just give thanks…

For RPD

For 7 long, lonely months my only solace was writing.  In that time, I wrote a book about love and loss.  My purpose and message was to inspire others to chase dreams, pursue meaningful relationships and love fearlessly – with heart and soul.  It wasn’t until I met you that I realized that the message was for me.

On March 8, I met you and you provided a little spark that was so desperately needed, a start to a new chapter in my life.  Your eyes, smile and strong, rugged hands mesmerized me as you built my log cabin.  I hid behind my sunglasses all the while watching you.  Ani-Tsalagi broke the ice between us.  In April, we started seeing each other.  On May 4, you walked into my house and never left.  You have been by my side, supporting me and loving me with your heart and soul ever since.  You’ve put a smile on my face, brought laughter to my days and a reason to love life again.

We’ve been through a lot in just 10 months – building a relationship, building a log cabin, selling a house in Riverview, packing and moving and living in temporary housing and now a marriage – our love and our “peas and carrots” relationship kept us together.

You’ve made me the happiest woman in the world, and I am so grateful that you came into my life.  Our rings were selected with purpose.  My engagement ring has two diamonds — “one for your best friend, one for your true love”.  My wedding band has three rubies — your birthstone — and another two diamonds — my birthstone.  Your wedding band has three diamonds — my birthstone.  I proudly and happily take you to be my life-long partner, my best friend, my true love, my husband. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning says it best:

            “How do I love thee?

            I love thee to the depths, breadth and height my soul can reach.

            I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life.

            And if God choose, I shall love thee better after death.”

RPD, I love you with all my heart and soul, ‘til death do us part.

The Reunion

What is life all about?  Family and friends and love.  If you don’t have them, you have nothing.  So what happens when you feel like you’ve lost all of them?  You get in a hole that you can’t dig out of, or can you?  I was there and didn’t think I would ever see light or life again.

When you’ve lost a loved one, you’ve watched them die in front you, how do you recover?  You think you have family, friends, people who will help you dig out.  You probably do but you don’t think so at the time when you’re devastated and in deep despair.  The grief is so deep that you can’t think straight . . . or let me be blunt . . . you can’t think at all.  You just want everything to go away.

Your family is your blood and yet, they don’t understand what you’re going through because they haven’t experienced the loss and grief that you have.  They try to comfort you but there is no comfort.  They try to express words to help you but they only make things worse.  The hole gets deeper and darker with each passing day.

And yet, at the end of the dark tunnel, your family sticks with you.  They never stop loving you, and they never give up on you.  While they can’t help you through the grief, they pray and hope and never stop loving you.  They never lose faith that you will snap out of it.

That’s what happened to me.  After 9 long, lonely months, I finally saw light.  It came in the form of a new love . . . not one that I was looking for.  It was so sudden and so profound that it was scary and unexpected.  But it was the little spark that I needed.

After a couple of weeks, I accidentally pocket dialed my sister.  I almost hung up and then she answered.  She was so ecstatic to hear from me.  She even told me that she hoped for facebook posts to know that I was ok.  It was the best phone call I had after so many months of silence.  She told me that my parents were coming to visit for Mother’s Day, would I come?  I wasn’t ready to speak to them, let alone see them.

Roger, my light, convinced me to call my mother on Mother’s Day.  I was so apprehensive, but I did.  It was the most healing moment.  I will never forget the call.  I called my sister’s cell phone, and she told my mom that “someone wants to talk to you.”  My mom asked, “is it  Bea?”  It was the only thing she wanted for Mother’s Day.  It was a short conversation but worth the few minutes.

Three weeks ago, my new fiancé called my father to let him know he had bought a ring for me.  A week later, my parents drove down to meet Roger.  It was the first time that I saw them in 15 months.  So ironic that a new relationship, new love, new home was the catalyst for the reunion.  It was so overwhelming and yet the moment I needed.  I had to feel the love and comfort that only parents can give a child.

The reunion was just another step in my long journey.  I have someone who loves me for me . . . for all my faults and foibles and dark moments.  But most of all, I have my family who never left my side . . . never gave up hope . . . never gave up on me.  Bea Positive that life is worth living . . . life is all about love . . . all about family.

What Are The Chances?

 

It was December 13, 2015, and I was spending my afternoon in Riverview like most I had spent for the last five months.  Two weeks prior, I had spent Thanksgiving alone.  Now Christmas was less than two weeks away, and I would spend the holiday alone.

 

Later in the afternoon, I sat on my patio listening to music, watching the sandhill cranes graze in the yard and cardinals enjoying black sunflower seed in the bird feeders.  I was enjoying a bottle of wine when the thunderstorm rolled in.  I love thunderstorms, and the rain is always so cleansing to experience.

I don’t remember how long the thunderstorm lasted, but as the storm clouds rolled away, the sun began to shine again.  It was still raining lightly, and I just knew there would be a rainbow in the sky.  I walked to the patio door and looked towards the north, and what I saw took my breath away.  Not only was there a rainbow, but a double rainbow – something I had seen in pictures but never witnessed myself.

Riverview, FL

 

I ran back to the table and grabbed my cell phone and took several photos.  I captured both rainbows in full color with blue sky and white puffy clouds under the primary rainbow.  And if you look closely at the top rainbow, you can see a heart shape within the wispy clouds.  It was the highlight of my afternoon and would take another seven months to understand how significant the double rainbow sighting truly was.

Leesburg, FL

 

On December 13, 2015, he was spending his afternoon in Leesburg like most he had spent for months.  He, too, had spent Thanksgiving alone and would be spending Christmas alone.  He sat in his man-cave, “The Shed”, listening to music.  It was mid-afternoon, and he was enjoying the beer when the thunderstorm rolled in.

 

As the storm subsided, he looked to the south.  To his wonder, he saw a double rainbow.  He grabbed his phone and took a photo capturing two brilliant rainbows shining against a gray sky.  And if you look closely, there is a wispy cloud in the primary rainbow on the left-side as if it was hugging the rainbow.  Just like me, it would be seven months before the true meaning presented itself.

A double rainbow occurs about 1 in 10 times a normal rainbow is seen.  In Asian culture, red is symbolic of the feet and violet is the head.  So in the primary rainbow, the human is reaching upward while the secondary rainbow is reaching downward.  The double rainbow is a symbol of transformation.  It has also been said that if you witness a double rainbow, blessings will fall into your lap . . . one good thing will lead to another.

It’s been seven months since December 13, 2015.  Last weekend, we shared our love of rainbows and our photos.  We looked at each other in awe and amazement when we discovered our cell phone pictures of a double rainbow were taken within an hour of each other – from the same storm, destiny smiled upon us in the form of a double rainbow.

When I look at the photos now, I see that the heart-shape hole in the cloud in Riverview is him reaching out from Leesburg with his heart.  From Leesburg, he sees me reaching out with open arms via a wispy cloud in the primary rainbow. What are the chances that two people who have never met photograph the same double rainbow 100+ miles apart from each other and on the same day, just an hour apart?  We know it’s probably 1 in a million . . . but it happened to us.

Crossing Rainbow Bridge

For many of us, our pets are our “kids”. My very first dog was a runt, Schnauzer-mix that I adopted while living in Austin, TX. I named her Rhiannon – yes, after my favorite Fleetwood Mac song. Rhiannon was my constant companion, and she moved with me to New Orleans, Atlanta, Tampa, Rock Hill, back to Atlanta and lastly Chicago.

Rhiannon was just shy of 18 years old in July 2002. John and I adopted little Aries, our first yorkie, three months before she passed. We were living in temporary housing due to my job transfer to Chicago. Rhiannon was slowing down and having more frequent seizures. It was a Sunday afternoon, and as we were walking around, she stopped and just looked up at me with very sad eyes. I held her muzzle in both hands as tears rolled down my face and told her, “it’s okay to go, girl, I know you are so tired.”

About 2:00 a.m., we awoke hearing her in distress. John and I rushed her to the emergency vet. I was hysterical. After what seemed forever, the very kind lady vet met with us in the room. She told us that Rhiannon’s heart was shutting down. We made the heart-wrenching decision to let her cross Rainbow Bridge peacefully, the first of many similar decisions we would make on behalf of our aging, sick “fur-babies”.

In memory of Rhiannon, John wrote this poem for me. For anyone else who has experienced losing a beloved “fur-baby”, I hope you find some comfort from John’s beautiful sentiment from Rhiannon to me.

“I’m smiling down upon you

From doggie heaven up above.

They say that’s where good dogs go

‘Cause they’re filled with so much love.

 

I can run and jump and play again;

My hip’s as good as new.

And over in the corner . . . guess what!

There’s that old shoe I used to chew.

 

I can see squirrels to chase them,

And I catch a lizard now and then.

I can bark when I want a treat.

It’s good to hear myself again.

 

It’s lonely here without you,

But we’re never far apart.

‘Cause I’ll always, always, always

Be running through your heart.”

~I love you, Rhiannon

 

He Smiled At Me

The gymnasium was set up for a career fair at the high school for the Great American Teach-In. There were tables set up for participating companies, disciplines and even the U.S. Air Force from MacDill AF Base. I reluctantly signed up to help with the career fair since they said it would be 1-on-1 with students vs. classroom.

I don’t like crowds  and quickly became claustrophobic, especially with all of the chatter in the gym. Science/Technical isn’t a popular subject matter to the vast majority of students, so not many stopped by. Those who did were grabbed up by the other two at my table.  I sat quietly, tuned out the noise and watched the students mill about the gym. It was very apparent to me that the students were more interested in being out of the classroom than careers. Most students did “drive by’s” each table, picked up freebies, hung out with their friends until the bell rang.

Two and half hours was an eternity to me. A new group of students entered the gym. My two table-mates quickly found someone else to talk to. I saw the young man standing in front of our table. He was all alone and holding a U.S. history book almost as big as him. He looked uncomfortable and almost frozen in front of our table, unsure of what to do.

It pained me to see him all alone and uneasy. I saw his name tag, and said, “hello Michael”. He looked up, and said hello back, surprised that I spoke to him. I asked him how he was doing, and he said “ok”. I continued speaking and asked him if he was interested in the science/technical field. He told me he didn’t really know what he wanted to do. He told me he was a sophomore. He was shorter than me with a slight build; I surmised that he was one of the smaller boys, if not the smallest, in his class. I told him he has a lot of time to figure out what he wants to do.

Then I asked him if he liked history, and he nodded “yes” and relaxed a bit. So I asked him, “what are you studying?” to which he replied, “World War I”. I asked him to tell me what started the war, and he was eager to share. He told me that U.K., France and Russia opposed Germany and Austria-Hungary. I said that I didn’t remember the details but “why did the U.S. get involved?” He told me that we remained neutral until Germany invited Mexico to fight against the U.S. and would help them recover TX, NM and AZ.

Curious if he was abreast of current events, I asked him, “what do you think about what’s going in our world today?” He was very thoughtful and said that we need to look back on history and understand what lessons we learned. We need to think long-term and hopefully make a good decision for our country. I asked if World War II is next, and he told me the Great Depression is next. I told him, “as bad as our economy is now, it’s nothing compared to the Great Depression.”

Just then, the bell rang and it was time for him to return to class. I said, “you’re a very sharp young man. Thank you for talking to me and good luck to you.” And that’s when he broke into a full, tooth-filled smile. He held out his hand to me which I shook. He said, “thank you, thank you for coming today.”

It was an emotional drive home, mostly because I wouldn’t be able to share my experience with John. All afternoon, Michael’s smile kept coming back to my mind. Then, it dawned on me – John loved history, especially U.S. history. He always told me how he was a scrawny kid growing up, a loner, uncomfortable in crowds like me, like Michael. It was less than 10 minutes in the three hours I spent at the career fair, but it’s as if Michael stopped in front of me on purpose. He needed me to speak to him, and I needed to speak to him. It was as if John, my guardian angel, smiled at me through Michael’s smile, a tiny little God-wink for me.

You Said . . .

Sometimes tomorrow is too late.  Don’t promise something that you can’t fulfill.  Bea there when they need you, not when you can be there.

You said you would be there for us,

But you had an important meeting.

You said you would clear your calendar

And be there, you said, “I promise, you’ll see”.

You said you would see us next week

After all, the doctors said you’re doing better

“So we’ve got plenty of time

We’ll make plans soon and get together.”

You said you would be there for me

But I never called you to say when.

So I managed without you all this time,

“It’s ok, I’m ok, I’ll manage on my own again.”

You said you’d like to be there for me

But you said, “all we can do is pray”

After all, it’s been a few months now

Surely, God will provide a new way.”

You said we’ll try to be here for you

But my tears and sorrow were too much.

You stayed as long as you could stand

And then packed and drove away without a touch.

You said you are here to help me

But only for a couple of days.

You see, we have our own lives;

We cannot deal with your life’s crazy maze.

You said you would be there for me

But this weekend we’re going to the Keys

“We’ll see you when we return;

It’s not your time, you see.”

You said you would stay with me

So that I wouldn’t have to go it alone

But too many other things happened,

So once again I was alone.

You said you would be there for me

But now you have to go out of town.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother;

I’ll be ok, I’ll survive, I promise I won’t drown.”

So what if you’re not here for me . . .

It’s no different than most of my life.

I only had one I could count on here

And now he has entered heaven, a life with no strife.