Recap

2011 is ending tonight. Last year we had a house party and invited the Schweningers and the boys' friends. Tonight we will be bowling with some of the boys' friends and ringing in the 2012 sober. That's no problem, 2011 was a big party and tonight will be no different. 


Last year started with a shock, when I got a call from my cousin saying my Uncle Ray had passed away early on New Year's Day. Uncle Ray was every one's favorite uncle. I remember how it felt talking to my sisters and brother about him. We each had our own special memories and shared them with each other. Since I am the only one that is local, my family represented the Isen kids at his funeral. It was a beautiful celebration of his life. Unfortunately, it was the first of many I would attend in 2011, including Jonathon Haertel, Denise Lear, William Bornhuetter, and LeRoy Pautsch. Each of these deaths affected me....some inspired me, some depressed me and others affirmed that I had made some good choices this year. 


This year was also the year of Packermania, Buckymania and Brewermania. If you don't live in Wisconsin, you have no idea how intense we are about our sports. We enjoyed a Superbowl win for the Packers, a Rose Bowl berth for the Badgers (I hate TCU), and a Central Division title for the Brewers (Albert Pujols and Tony LeRusa are the devil!) Locally we enjoyed the Bradford football team going undefeated to win the Div. 1 State Championship, and The Rizz, J-Krew, Dani and Kenj each qualified for the State Cross Country meet. What better reason to party than celebrating some sort of sports accomplishment? We did! 


I got special time with friends and family this year too. Both my sisters came to Wisconsin and I went to Summerfest, Chicago and spent the Fourth of July with the Rogers. I also went to Summerfest with Chris. Chris and I spent a fantabulous night and day in Waterford together. Sue Won and I spent a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious day/night together in Appleton. Phyllis and I went to Madison to watch the Bradford Softball team compete at State. Good times were had with Tara, Cori, Sue, Anita, Norma, Tori, Barb, Deb, Cindy and many, many more. I just got home from 3 days with my parents. What a GREAT visit filled with music, food, drink, puzzles and relaxation. I am very blessed to have such terrific family and friends. 


Then there are the three men that are closest to me. Mike and I celebrated 20 years married in 2011. Our relationship is aggravating, strong, fun, and passionate. My boys are seniors in high school this year. They turn 18 next week and they still will cuddle in bed with me. Some of my favorite memories this year come from giving Mikey a ride to school and lunches with Frank. My twins are developing into spectacular young men. HOLY CRAP! 


Speaking of holy; I grew spiritually too. I changed some priorities around and my life is much more fulfilling and peaceful. I started writing this blog and I have discovered a few things about myself that cause me to look forward to 2012 with excitement. I am still dealing with some negative feelings, but I am equipped with some new tools that help me cope in a much healthier way than before. 


May the new year be filled with love, happiness and peace. 


Cheers to 2011 and here's to 2012! 

First after Fifteen

This is my fifteenth school year driving bus and I would like to think that I have experienced just about everything there is to experience in the job. After all, I have been in 4 collisions, driven into the ditch, gotten lost, been yelled at, cussed at, threatened, stolen from, kicked, punched, scratched, spit on, had my hair pulled, been puked on, bled on, and even had one woman accuse me of choking her daughter (total bullshit!) I really believe that there are not a lot of firsts left for me to experience in my job any longer. I am happy to share, that today, I had a first. 


Each time we get into the bus, we have to do a check of it called a pre-trip inspection. This inspection consists of checking the lights, doors, windows, electronics, wheels, brakes and pretty much everything you can think of on the bus. I should note here that my bus is pretty much brand new. No one besides me has ever driven it regularly and I know it really well. As I was checking the outside of the bus, I noticed some fluid had collected on the bottom of the rim of the front driver's side wheel. My experience is that this is one of two things; water or brake fluid. I stuck my finger in the fluid and ran it along the rim. It's black not red, a good sign. I entered the bus and tested the E brake and the service brake. I held that pedal down 3 or 4 times for the count of ten. No give...a very good sign, but it's still a good idea to take the bus to the technicians to check it out. 


I need to pause here to explain that I have a monitor that rides with me during this route. LaToya and I have a great time working together and she is one of the best listeners I have ever met. Good thing, because I LOVE to talk! I explained to LaToya that we had to stop at the garage to make sure the bus doesn't have a brake fluid leak. I showed her the big black smudge on my index finger. 


We have really great mechanics/technicians at our terminal. They are never condescending to me and usually will take the time to explain why the bus is doing what it is doing. They have even taken time to help a lot of people including me with their personal vehicles. In the garage, Ron, a tech I hardly know came to help me. I told him I needed to make sure that brake fluid wasn't leaking from my wheel. I showed him my black finger and we went out to take a look at the bus. The wet spot was now on the top of the wheel. He took out his flash light and took a quick look at the wheel. He got a big smile on his face and said "You're fine, that's not brake fluid. It's an animal." I said "What?" He said "An animal peed on the wheel, you're fine." 


Thanks a lot Ron! I had who knows what kind of animal urine on my finger. Really, you couldn't have lied to me and said it was water and road grime? I got in the bus and told LaToya that we were safe, but that I needed my Clorox wipes and the anti-bacterial ASAP! I bet she is still laughing her ass off. Well, Happy Friday everybody  :P

Firewood

I realized recently that most people fit into two categories....kindling and cord wood. I am definitely kindling. I take fire quickly, I burn hot and fast and my flame is easily extinguished. Cord wood takes time to catch fire, it burns long and fast and it difficult to put out. Fortunately, I have surrounded myself with cord wood. I have some other kindling in my life too and when we get together it usually means things are going to be VERY interesting. 

There are many areas in my life where I have burned hot and fast. There are friendships like Spring, Dianne, Tammy and Marty. My professional life from college, to working in the factories, to Domino's to working for the Kenosha School Bus Drivers Union is full of fast hot burning tinder. My love life only really has two relationships that lasted more than a couple weeks. I love to start a diet and exercise program and when I do, I am usually pretty successful at it. Eventually, I stop being consistent and go back to my normal not so healthy routines. Currently in the most important areas in my life I have cord wood to keep me burning. 

My most trusted cord wood is my husband, Mike. I may be the reason our fire started, but he is the reason it is still burning. He guided us through a long distance relationship, a move 2000 miles away from our families, and the rough spots in our marriage. Mike helps me in other areas of my life too, like diet and exercise and relationships. I love Mike with all my heart and I am blessed he is slow and long burning. 

In my professional life my cord wood is the children on my bus. Even in this area, I choose to keep things short and hot. I usually make it a point to drive different students/routes each year. It isn't that I don't enjoy the kids or the schools I drive, but it is very important to me to have change in my life. There is one student in particular that I drove many years in a row. Justin and I got so dependent on each other that he almost wouldn't get on a bus unless I was driving it. I got so close to him, I took him for ice cream and gave him pictures of me (with his parents permission of course.) I started driving him in preschool and he is now in 8th grade. I haven't driven him for a few years, but I still see him. He still makes my heart skip a  beat and he always gives me a big hug. I am happy to be able to watch him grow up, even though it is at a distance.  I can't let my fire for Justin or for driving the bus burn out. They are both integral to my happiness. 

In my friendships, my greatest piece of cord wood is Shiela. She has a way of seeing the way I feel about things and reflecting them back to me before I let them burn out. Shiela and her family moved to Georgia a year ago....1000 miles away. It sucks! I miss her regular presence in my life. I miss the way she could touch my skin or my heart with just a slight stroke or a quick glance. I miss her as my walking partner, my conscience and my reality check. I don't miss her friendship though, 1000 miles can't take that away. She came to visit in September and it was as if she never left. I felt immediate calm and normalcy. In order to keep close to each other she and I have started a plan to walk to talk to each other. She knew she needed me to get her fire started to exercise and I knew I needed her to calm my fire down before I burned out. Thank God we figured it out! 

A few weeks ago Mike and I went to dinner with my parents. The conversation got around to religion and my dad asked me how far I was going to go with it. At first I thought he asked it because he wants me to fulfill some grand potential in my life. When I worked at Domino's he was so happy when I became a manager. When I worked for the union, he kept saying how he wished I would go into politics. So I wonder if he thinks I should become a minister. Well, that is probably not going to happen. My answer to him is that my ministry is my kids on my bus, and the kids at church. My ministry is my boys and their friends. My ministry is all the people I come into contact with that watch the way I live my life, not perfect, but with a purpose. My ministry is this blog. I don't need to stand before a congregation on Sunday morning. I do it daily. By the way, Jesus is my cord wood for my spirituality. I pray He doesn't let that fire burn out. 

Charity

I have been thinking about writing this one for quite awhile. It seems timely with the holiday season approaching. Charity is an interesting subject to me. It has two sides and depending on your personality and which side you are on, you can accept it. 


I have been on the receiving end of charity many times. For example, Mike and I have gotten so much from our families that sometimes it is overwhelming. Without the help of our parents and siblings we would not have the furniture we have, a new roof over our head, or many of the clothes my boys wore growing up. Thanks to her generosity we were able to visit Chicago last summer with my sister, Kim and her family. We are able to visit my parents regularly knowing we will always have a comfortable bed, a place to relax and not have to pay to eat out. My parents even helped me get to Florida a few years ago to visit my sister Shari during spring break. It was a great trip!


Accepting these gifts is difficult for me. I want to be the one that gives more than I receive. Our families always say we deserve it and that they are happy to do it for us. Believe me, we appreciate it! It's just that it's too much sometimes. I have learned to accept these gifts as they are given.....graciously. That's not easy, but necessary. 


My boys regularly shovel the sidewalk for an elderly woman across the street. Sometimes she insists on paying them for it. We have taught them to try not to accept any payment for this service. It's not that she can't afford it, it's that we want them to do something for someone else without any payment. They accept the money occasionally and it makes both sides feel better about it. 


Recently, I went to dinner and drinks with a couple friends. It was pay back for a time when I had treated them to dinner last summer. I didn't have to pay a penny all night long. That was tough for me to accept. I made up for it by being the driver for the night. We had a terrific time together and I am happy I got over my hang up and allowed them to take me out. 


Sometimes you have to put your ego aside and let someone else do something nice for you. There's no shame in letting someone buy you dinner when you can't afford it. There is no problem letting your family help you out when times are tough. They do it because they love you. They will only do what they can. All they expect in return is gratitude. Why is it so hard to accept other people's help for some of us? Especially those that really NEED it! 


Then there is the other side of charity. The side of those that have a lot and are not generous. Sometimes I feel like those that have more, give less and those that have less, give more. There are definite exceptions to that statement, but I think in general it is true. Funny thing is that those people will usually receive without thinking twice about it. Just sayin' 

Choices

I had a lot of time to think on my drive home from Appleton today. It's Sunday and normally I attend church, but of course today I didn't, so I chose to listen to some Christian music for the first part of my drive. I felt great and I must have looked ridiculous singing and worshiping in the car. Oh well, who cares right? No shame in it. Shame is a very powerful emotion. It is the emotion that drove me to choose to have an abortion when I was 19. 


As far as I know, no one in my family knows I made this choice or even that I got pregnant. It is one of the biggest secrets I ever kept from my family. I had dropped out of college and was working at Domino's. Todd, my long time boyfriend and I were pretty much not together any more but we had some unprotected rebound sex and sure enough, I got pregnant. I told Todd and we discussed our options. Neither one of us wanted to marry each other. Neither one of us wanted to have the baby. I was too ashamed to tell my family, so adoption was out. It was really easy for us to come to the decision to end the pregnancy. Todd accompanied me to the appointment and took care of me for my recovery after the procedure. I remember walking into the clinic and there were protesters outside. They asked me how I could ruin this child's life and my response was "Why should I ruin three people's lives.?" At the time and for a long time after it, I was proud of that come back. 


Now 23 years later, I have replaced my shame with guilt. I think of how I killed someone because I was too afraid to disappoint my dad. I think of how right now there could be a wonderful 22 year old out there living a life. I think about the couple that never was able to have a baby because of my choice. I always used to justify my choice with the thought that I wouldn't be where I am today without it. I probably wouldn't be married to Mike. I probably wouldn't have Frank and Mike. I might not have such a close relationship with some of my friends and family. Then I think about the other people I know in my life that were in the same position as me and the choices they made. My step sister gave up her baby from her teenage pregnancy for adoption and now she has a beautiful, grown up daughter and two granddaughters. My sisters chose to keep their babies and married the fathers. They had some obstacles because of it, but they each have wonderful sons and happy marriages. I think of a couple of my friends that chose to go the single mother route and the difficulties they face but how much they love their children. Sure they have to sacrifice in ways that I haven't, but they also get rewards I will never know.


So why share this now? That takes me back to my drive back from Appleton. I was thinking about what my next topic would be and this came in my head. I wanted to share this now before my boys and their friends may be faced with the same choice. I want them all to know that regardless of which choice they make, there will be negative feelings to deal with for the rest of their lives. I want them to know that the choice to give up the baby for adoption or to keep it can work out. I also want to be able to let go of this secret that haunts me. To my family, I am sorry I was too afraid to share this with you before now. That was another choice I had to make and for which I am willing to face the consequence. I am just trying to make some good come from something bad. 

Crazy, Crazy, Crazy

In the last couple days I have been accused of being crazy by a couple people. Well, when someone says something once to you, no worries...but a second time? Now I have to wonder, am I acting crazily? I do have to admit, I have questioned my sanity a bit recently. Whenever I get emotional I start to worry about slipping into depression but I really do believe I have been coping better than I have in the past. I know it just takes time to get through stuff. Besides, I have had a lot put on me in the last couple months. Here are some things I am dealing with right now.

It is Frank and Mike's senior year of high school. They are in the process of mapping out their futures and I have to admit...it scares the heck out of me. I am so impressed at how well they are handling it all. They each are accepted to their first choice colleges and are in the process of applying for scholarships. They each have a state school back up plan and I really believe they are each choosing the right career paths. Frank wants to go to engineering school. If you know anything about him, it's perfect. Mike wants to go into Phy Ed/Coaching/Health with a minor in Special Ed. I always have known in my heart that this would be perfect for Mike. Since it is their senior year, everything is a milestone. Each cross country meet, football game and holiday is special. Who knows where they will be next year? 

Another thing that has brought out my emotions is the growth group on grieving I am leading for church. It took me over a year to raise the courage to lead this group. Before I committed to lead it, I spoke with many people about it and each one encouraged me that it was a great idea and to go for it. They were absolutely right.  The first night after we met, I was driving home with a huge sense of what good could come from the group. As I was passing the cemetery where my mom is buried, I got filled with emotion. Then Denise died. Smack! This isn't going to be as easy as I thought. I had a fresh new death to mourn along with my group. The next week, LaVonne, the author of the book the group is reading, joined us and we had a spectacular meeting with her. Each of the members was so encouraged to meet someone that was able to cope with such a great loss. A couple weeks passed and I found out that LaVonne's husband had passed away. When I informed the group, they were compassionate but concerned whether LaVonne would join us for our last meeting in December as scheduled. At the funeral, the first words out of LaVonne's mouth to me were "I am still going to be there December 7th." I told her we would decide that later. I'll let you know how it turns out. 

Of course there is the latest transition of friendship status with my great friend that I have written about in previous posts, Never Too Late and Perspective. What can I say?  It is how I am made to make a great friend, enjoy it for a time, and eventually through some circumstance or another, lose that closeness. Each time is different and each time is difficult. In time, I move on and I get close to someone else. This is sort of hard on Mike too. He gets worried about me and second guesses everything I do. Sometimes it is a source of insecurity for me, but not this time. I am confident in the path that this change is taking. It's not that I think I am completely innocent but that I am making the right choice in resetting this boundary....both for me and for her. I am confident we will work out our current issues and that we will continue our friendship, just in a different way. 

In a couple days I am going to meet a woman I have met online. This is a first for me. I am shocked Mike agreed to this, but when I really want something, if he is able, he submits to me. I know Mike is really worried about this trip, but not worried enough and trusts me enough to support it. I refer to her as Sue Won and she refers to me as Sue Too. We met playing Mafia Wars and even though we played in the same family for over two years, we never really started talking until a couple months ago. As I have gotten to know her through her blog, online chat sessions, text and phone conversations, we have discovered many similarities in our lives with a few key differences that compel us to want to meet face to face. Still, I have to admit to having a small amount of nervousness. Not because I think she is a serial killer like we joke about on Facebook, but because once again I am getting close to someone. How long will this last? What will happen to change it? Not to worry though, just going to enjoy the ride. I will let you know how that turns out too. 

Mechanisms

This year for Thanksgiving we are hosting my in-laws. The truth is, I hate hosting. It takes me out of my comfort zone, but Mike wants to do it, so we are. Like most people, when I get anxious, I activate my coping mechanisms. Lately, I have had to do this a LOT! Here are some ways I cope with anxiety and other negative feelings. 


There are two extreme mechanisms that I use to cope with negative feelings. They are pretty opposite of each other. The first is to throw up a wall of happiness and spread some joy. This usually causes the volume of my life to be turned way up. The volume goes up on my music, my voice, my laughter, and scarily enough my accelerator foot. I go out of my way to try to make others feel better while inside I can barely breathe, I am crying, shouting, screaming and I feel nauseated. I like this mechanism but it has one draw back. It gets a bit obnoxious. The other is to close completely inside myself and be still and quiet. I read, do puzzles, sleep, watch TV or play mind numbing video games. I stop communicating with my loved ones and I usually neglect my responsibilities. It is quiet and reflective but sometimes I spend too much time there and I miss out on time with my family and friends. 


Finding a happy medium between these two mechanisms is important. One way to ensure that I do that is to go to church. I know, you don't want to hear it, but keep reading...it's not what you think. There are many different kinds of church because a church isn't a building, it's a community. My communities are my family, my friends, my online friends, serving at church service, but most of all, it's the students I transport. I can't tell you how many times I have been crying as I pulled up to a house or a school and one of my students or teachers immediately does something to cheer me up. Just a couple weeks ago, I was withdrawing into myself when I got to one of my schools in the afternoon. The teacher came to the bus rambling about "Where's Sue, how come Sue isn't here, Where's Sue's bus, Sue is late......." I thought she was losing it! Then I thought she was mimicking one of the students. In reality she was mocking another teacher. HILARIOUS! I cracked up and I made it through the rest of the day with a smile on my face. I probably have 1000 stories like that. When I started driving bus, my dad said I had found my calling. I never understood what he meant by that until recently. 


So what is your church? What are your mechanisms? Hopefully they work for you and are positive. 


Happy Thanksgiving 

Perspective

When you are grieving nothing is simple. Even the things that don't have anything to do with you make you react in an extreme way. For example, say your son died in a car accident where someone was using their cell phone while driving. You probably wouldn't like it when someone calls you on their cell phone while they are driving. Pretty insensitive right? Yet, who among us, doesn't ever use their cell phone while driving?

So, I am currently grieving a loss. Maybe not a death, but a friendship. I wish I could control my feelings, but it isn't always that easy. Besides, sometimes, in order to move forward, you have to lean into those feelings, feel them, and then purge them. Each time, you let a little bit go, you start to heal. This is a process and the process takes time and it takes work. It takes more though. It takes faith and it takes support from others. I am fortunate to have all of that. 

The other thing it takes is to gain perspective. That's a tough one. Especially when you are spoiled like me. I have always known love in my life. That is what I mean by spoiled. I have never been abused, ever. Sure, Mike and I would be passive aggressive toward each other and we would verbally abuse each other when we were fighting, but I always felt his love for me. I even feel my mom's love for me. That is where perspective comes into play. I can put myself in the other person's shoes and try to walk a mile in them. My question is this....does she do the same?

In an earlier blog, I wrote that it is never too late. I still  believe that. I still believe that this can all be saved. However, just like my marriage, that is going to take work and compromise. Compromise takes both people listening to each other and having a real true interest in how the other person feels. Right now, I don't see there being much of a chance of that happening. I felt that about my marriage though and it is stronger than it ever was; not perfect; stronger. So I pray....I pray for God to give me strength to continue down the righteous path. I pray for Him to soften my heart that is so hardened by spite, bitterness, anger, loss, jealousy, and cynicism. I pray for her to open her heart to a love that can and promises to fix everything. 

God Bless Us 

Now Serving

Thanksgiving is next week. Most people start to think of things for which to be thankful. Of course I have thought of things too, but what I have really been thinking about is all the people I know that have inspired me to serve others. Here is a list of those people and how they serve others. 


My dad, Al, wow, where to start. At church he serves on many committees. He serves his community by donating his time at the local community center and also by doing projects like the Mississippi River Pool 9 clean up. He holds two political positions in his town. 


My step-mom, Judy might not think she serves much, but she does. She isn't the joiner that my dad is, but she serves her family first. She is the best sister, daughter, mother, grandmother and friend I know. Judy will give money to any cause and organization that sends her an envelope. 


My sister, Kim, a mother of three boys, volunteers mentoring young women. She was a cub/boy scout leader and she is a great sister, aunt, mother and friend. 


My other sister, Shari is very generous. She hosts a great party and she is one of the most intelligent people I know. 


My brother, Jerry coaches baseball and when we were growing up he was a great role model for the young boys in our neighborhood. I bet he still is. 


My step-sister, Linda is another big church and boy scout volunteer. She is an amazing educator!  


Chris LeRose recently rekindled my desire to serve others when she convinced me to join her to wrap and deliver presents last Christmas. She works with Autistic adults and she loves to go on mission trips. I am still not going Chris, lol. 


My nephew, Andrew....speaking of missions; Andrew did a two year mission to Nicaragua after he graduated from high school.  


Phyllis served as union president and rep for the bus drivers and monitors in Kenosha for over 15 years. She sacrificed more than anyone I have ever known to benefit the working people in our terminal. 


The Garbers and Niese families are always willing to host events and groups. They are some of the most hospitable people I know. Eden Neise and Char Lewis led our Habitat for Humanity service project last summer. Their vision and commitment to that cause did so much long lasting good. 


The Schlevensky family is always willing to give time, money, and their organization skills to any project. Tammy and Cayla have been a big part of helping our friend Denise's family. 


Shiela, Terri and Debbie have always been planners. They enjoy planning events and fund raisers for our co-workers and their children. Marge, another work friend, usually makes sure that any one who is sick or has a death in the family gets a card. When I had my gall bladder out, Marge passed a card around and mailed it to me. What a great feeling it was to open and read that card. 


Tara is one of the best friends in the world. She will drop everything and join you on project you ask her to help with and she loves to volunteer in her boys' schools.


John and Mona Sykora are truly inspirational. John coaches football and baseball. He organizes charity  events and he educates educators. Mona is a true leader. She is John's right hand, she is heavily involved in Parent Teacher Organizations and she may be the best sport mom I have ever met. 


Cori, Anita, Sue S, Barb, Kristen and the rest of my softball friends have led events and groups that help Susan G Komen,  Ahlzheimers and Relay for Life. 


Susan Beaudo in her own words is an offerer. She will do anything for a friend and not ask for a thing in return.


If you can read this list and not think of a way to serve others, I don't know what to say. 

Never Too Late

In my life, many women have taken hold of my heart. Of course, there are my sisters, Kim and Shari.......my childhood friends, Donna, Joie, Kathy, Vicky, and Martie......high school friends, Karen, Sandy, Shellie, Tammy, Tammie, Nicole and Tracy......young adult friends, Mary, Julie, Spring, Dianne, and Tammy B. etc. You get the idea. I could go through many segments of my life and make a list of friends that have impacted me greatly, some in just a short time, others over many years. There were mentors too, Lil, Bette, Karen, Donna, Barb C, Kim K, Rosie, and Judy G. I appreciate each of these women more than they know. I probably never thanked them properly for what they meant to me in my life. 


As an adult, I have had many friends enter and leave my life too. I used to think that these women left me because there was something wrong with me. It is only recently that I have begun to change my view on that stance. Believe me, I still have plenty of moments when I feel insecure or I try to blame some part of me or my life for not keeping in touch with these people. There was even a time when I blamed Mike for driving my friends away. However, what I was always missing is that I still have a part of each one of them living in my heart. My experiences with them are an integral part of who I am. Each one of them has provided me with wisdom, compassion, kindness, and companionship.


Each time one of these relationships transitions I grieve for it. I am in the midst of one of those transitions right now. My heart is aching! I am filled with sadness, a sense of loss, anger, pity, self pity and most of all confusion. I don't blame myself or the other person for this change in our "relationship status." It is just the natural progression of our friendship. I still love her and I would do anything for her, but I have to go in my direction and she has to go in hers. Unfortunately, right now, we are not heading in the same direction. 


One more thing I was wrong about......when these friends are no longer such an integral part of my life, they don't leave a hole in my heart. That is what I used to believe, that there was a hole and I had to fill it up. Sure, I have different people I am confiding in because I can no longer confide in her, but that doesn't mean that she isn't still alive and well in my heart. I cherish what we had and I love her.

Now, time to go forward with a tear in my eye and an ache in my heart. The healing will soon begin. Hopefully for us both. It's never too late.

Long Rebound

I have spent the last couple days now not playing Mafia Wars and it is making quite a difference in my relationship with Mike and my boys. It is making me think of how Mike and I met and fell in love. You may be surprised to find out that we are a great big, long rebound.

During my second semester of college, I decided to drop out. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life besides party and spend time with my boyfriend, Todd. When I talked to my dad about it, he advised me to stay in school, but said it was my decision. His one stipulation was that I would have to work, no free-loaders in the Isen house. So I dropped out, moved home and got a job working for a temp agency in Racine. For a couple months I worked third shift factory jobs. Eventually, I got a job at the factory where my dad worked and I soon realized that factory work was not going to work for me. The women there knew who my dad was and they would make rude comments about him and his big wrench (he was a supervisor for the mechanics and he had some big tools). Anyways, it became obvious to me, that I needed to find a new line of work. 

I decided to go work at Domino's delivering pizza. It was a great! I loved to drive, loved pizza (still my favorite food), and most of the pay came in the form of cash. It left lots of time to spend with friends and Todd. I quickly made friends with the manager, Kim. She was dating the owner, had a baby daughter and she had an attitude that she was going to rule the world one day.  She was my idol! Eventually, Kim and Brad molded me into a manager and I was sent to a store in Kenosha to manage it. This did wonders for my relationship with Todd. We started to grow apart and before long we ended our 2 year romance. 

One sunny spring day, I was working in my store in Keno and a Porche 911 parked in the lot. A tall, dark handsome young guy got out and walked through the door of my store. How corny, huh, but did you see the picture, he was all that! Anyways, it was Mike, and he asked for an application. He was home from USC for the summer and wanted to work nights after his job at his family's produce warehouse. I joked with him that I hoped he wasn't going to deliver in the Porche. At the time, Mike was dating his high school sweetheart, Joy. Joy lived about 30 minutes away and he would go see her after working 12-14 hours a day at his two jobs. Most of the time he would fall asleep when he was with her.

Meanwhile, he was spending time at work with me and we were getting to know each other. He was such a gentleman. Lots of times he would get me dinner so I didn't always have to eat pizza and he always made sure I was safe late at night. Even though he was nice, I didn't think of him as a possible boyfriend. He was with Joy and I was busy trying to meet guys who sounded hot when they ordered their pizza. I met a lot of fun guys that way.....a couple of my favorites are a coastie, Dan and a minor league baseball player that was staying in a hotel while his team played the Kenosha Twins. I was 19, had money, it was summer and life was awesome!

One day, Mike brought in a bracelet he bought for Joy for her birthday. I actually said out loud, "Nice, if you ever break up with her, I will date you." I know Joy loved the bracelet, but the rest of the summer wasn't so great for her and Mike and their relationship. He kept ditching her to work for me and when he finally did see her, he was so tired he would fall asleep right in the middle of talking to her. He really tried with her, but he knew they weren't meant to be so a week or so before he was scheduled to leave to go back to L.A. for school, he broke up with her. He showed up at the store to tell me about it. 

After I closed up, we went to go talk for awhile. We were just friends and he was sad and needed someone to talk to about the break up. Nothing happened that night except talk! Eventually, he went home and so did I. I invited him to come watch me play softball the next night if he was interested. Kim and Brad went out of town for the night and I was left to watch their 2 year old daughter, Kourtney. Mike showed up at the softball game and he watched Kourt while I played. We went back to Kim and Brad's and put Kourt to sleep. Next thing we knew, we were kissing and one thing led to the next. It was fun and easy but I know it scared the heck out of Mike. He was not interested in a one night stand. One problem, he was going to be leaving for California in a day or so. Was I interested in a long distance relationship? He left and we promised to take a day to think about it. 

The next night we went out to eat after I got done working. We ended up talking until about 3 a.m. We got kicked out of the restaurant and the restaurant's parking lot. Neither one of us wanted to say goodbye, so we decided to give the long distance thing a try. To my surprise it worked. 

We would talk on the phone a couple times a week. Mike was busy with school and working as a student athletic trainer for the football team. We started planning to spend the weekend together in October when USC played Notre Dame in South Bend. We met in South Bend for the football game. What a terrific feeling to be at one of the most amazing football games ever played. USC - Notre Dame  Mike was on the field with the team so I sat in the stands with the rest of the Trojan fans. After the game, we drove to Chicago for a couple days together. We had a fantastic weekend together, but once again, we were sent back to our long distance relationship. The rest of his Junior year we just talked on the phone and didn't see much of each other until he got home for another summer. 

By then, I had moved out of my dad's house and was living with a girl from work in an apartment near Parkside. That summer, he planned on working at the warehouse and managing one of Brad's stores in Kenosha. We didn't want to fall apart the same way he and Joy had so he moved into my apartment. This was not a real popular decision among his family. After all, he and I were just a rebound relationship that would never last. By the end of the summer, it was clear that we were meant to be together and Mike started talking about not wanting to return to L.A. to finish college. His parents absolutely would not allow it.  He decided he would return to get his degree, but he maxed out his schedule so he would be able to graduate in December. 

One August day, Brad sent Mike and I to Aurora on an errand for Domino's. We had a great time driving together there and back. Later that night, I had a softball game and we went to the bar I played for after. It is located right on the river next to the dam. On our way out to the car, he said let's go look at the dam. I was not interested, but he convinced me. We stood there looking at the water going over the dam and he started shaking and getting nervous. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a box. He proposed with a cracked voice and I tearfully accepted. We were engaged! We went on to celebrate with a late night breakfast at Denny's. Mike always laughs that we went to Denny's for our engagement. I don't care, I remember feeling so happy we could have gone to McDonald's.

Mike went back to L.A. and finished his senior year as planned. I visited during Thanksgiving weekend for another USC/ND game. He cooked our Thanksgiving dinner.....Ham, mashed potatoes and a salad. It was great. We spent a day with my brother in Anaheim and I met his roommate Olen. I couldn't wait for him to get done with school so we could start our life together. 

Before he went back for senior year, Mike talked to his Grandma about what he was going to do after graduation. His dream had always been to work at LoCicero and take over the family business. Rosalie  told Mike there was no future for him there. She refused to give him a job, saying she planned on closing the business soon. Mike was devastated. It was his lifelong dream to take over that business. Reluctantly, he started looking for career opportunities elsewhere. His uncle was opening a restaurant in Palm Desert, CA right around the same time Mike was going to get his degree. Mike and I started planning on moving to California together. The job with Uncle Ron didn't work out, but we decided he should continue to look for work in the desert. He got a job at Baker's Square as a manager and we moved to Palm Springs right after Christmas 1990. 

We planned on getting married in August of 1991. Rosalie came to visit us in March. She and I spent a lot of time together and she kept asking us why we needed a big wedding when we were already living like we were married. She convinced us to elope and we ended up going to Las Vegas in April and got married. That summer, Rosalie helped me surprise my dad for his birthday by letting me stay with her for a night so I could show up unannounced right on his birthday. A couple months later she had an aneurysm and she died right before our wedding party was scheduled. We cancelled the party and attended her funeral instead. In the short time I knew her, she had a dramatic impact on me. I miss Grandma Rosie tremendously. 

Mike and I continued our life in California for about 6 years. Our twin boys were born there and our time in Palm Springs was essential for us to solidify our relationship. We have been through hell and back since moving back to Wisconsin, but I think that the way we got together, fell in love and overcame so much distance is the reason we persevere.......in spite of being on the rebound. 

A Time to Move On

Yesterday was an amazing day for me. I woke up feeling well rested and happy. It was about 45 degrees and raining outside. I went to work feeling way too good considering the crappy weather. I was sort of looking forward to a lunch date with Julie Adams, but though I love her, I wouldn't say that she was the sole reason I was feeling so good. 


I did my morning routes which is my only session with a monitor. Poor LaToya! She had to put up with me on "high!" There are a few of you that have experienced this in person.....Tara Schweninger, Barb Wise, maybe Janice Chernik, definitely my closest friends, Phyllis, Julie and Shiela. Well, I warned LaToya when she got on the bus that I was in a great mood and I would probably be talking constantly. She smiled and looked like she was looking forward to it. We had a great morning talking and I even let her get a word in once in awhile. When we got back to the terminal, we went our separate ways, but I told LaToya to talk to Tara about some of the times she and I had on the bus together. 


I turned in my key and route sheets and Tara was working in the office. This is very unusual....usually Tara only works in the evenings, but they must have needed help, so there she was. I told her I was running on about 27 and she laughed. She knew exactly what I meant. I decided to stay at the terminal for my lay over time instead of heading home like I normally do. I just felt like I was supposed to stay at the terminal for some reason. 


I had a couple of very upbeat conversations with some co-workers and in walked Carrie. Carrie is an acquaintance that I sometimes talk to about faith and religion. She is in the middle of coming to terms with her own faith journey and for some reason I felt like I just needed to talk with her. We had an amazing conversation outside in the rain. We went over some scripture and discussed some theology and I hope that Carrie finished the conversation feeling as good as I did about it.


Time to get back in the bus......as I was walking out with another acquaintance Debbie, we talked about our feelings about how some people at work had said some bad things about our friend Denise that just passed away. We talked about how angry it made us that people would say things like she deserved to die, and that they didn't feel bad for her family. The last thing I said to Debbie was that all we could do for those people was to pray for them. That would take some real faith! 


As I was checking my bus, I saw a woman in a bad mood walking to her bus, cussing and calling someone a bad name. I asked what was wrong and she said Tara was a fucking idiot. Okay, apparently Tara had not met her expectations in the office. I don't know the whole story, but I didn't appreciate her calling my buddy fucking idiot. Still, I let it go, no sense in having a confrontation with her. I got in the bus and said to God....Really? This is the lesson you have for me. Practice what you preach! Okay, pray for that woman. Small effort, insincere prayer. No satisfaction. Reach down deep and really truly say something nice to God about this woman. Done! Wow, do I feel better. 


Time to spread the love some more. I sent out a few texts to some of my buddies, letting them know I was thinking of them and I hoped they were having a good day. I even sent a special set to my sisters and a super special one to Mike. This day is awesome and pretty soon I will be at lunch with Julie and Nay. 


During my second school, I got a really weird feeling out of no where. It's time to quit playing Mafia Wars. Now, if you know me, you know I have a  slight addiction to Mafia Wars. Okay, major addiction!  I usually spend about 3-6 hours a day playing various accounts and socializing with other people that play the game. Okay, I am about to lose it. So I shot a quick text to Sue Won that said....I just had an overwhelming feeling to quit playing MW. Her replay, as expected, if you don't want to play, don't play. Maybe she didn't understand.....no seriously, this came out of no where, it wasn't a conscious thought at all! Her response, in jest I hope, are you feeling okay? Yep, I felt great, I had decided to listen to the feeling and I was already starting to plan on what to do next. 


I had a great lunch with Julie and Nay. It was so easy and comfortable to eat, talk and reminisce with them. We discussed how far we had come since we met each other. It was a fun time. The day continued to go well. Nothing too out of the ordinary, just a good natured double entendre post on Facebook with a comment on one that made me laugh hysterically in my car when I read it. 


When I got home, I spent some time with Mike until he went to bed and then it was time to start my mission. I changed my mini account so it didn't have my name on it any longer and I deleted all the old chat conversations. I planned on trying to sell that account and I didn't want the new owner to see all that stuff. Unfortunately, the place I tried to sell it to didn't want it and I wasted my time. Oh well, time to get on my main account and start to delete friends that I only have because of the game. Two and a half hours later and about 700 friends fewer, I finished. Time to get some sleep. 


I woke up this morning, feeling confident I am doing the right thing. I still had a little housekeeping to do though. I belonged to a family and I  had to let them know what I was doing and why. I sent out a message explaining that I had decided to quit playing and that I hope to remain friends with them. I offered them my mini account and any loot they could use. I know that a couple of them are upset by my decision. I guess it is because they like playing the game with me. If so, we will remain friends and stay in touch. However, sometimes, you don't stay in touch. Sometimes, people come into your life and fulfill their purpose and then they are gone. It doesn't mean that they weren't important in your life, or that they aren't special to you. It just means, it's time to move on. 

Help!

Today, I am going to a benefit for a friend that recently passed away at the age of 36. She was the single mother of 3 teenage boys. When I think of her boys and how I relate to them, I think of the people that helped me overcome the loss of my mom as I was growing up. I pray to God to send similar helpers to Mel, Ty and Pat. 


When I say helpers, I mean people outside of my family that stepped up to serve my family and me. The first are our next door neighbors, the Bowman family. Bette and Rick were a young married couple with a young son, Ricky. Bette sort of watched over me all the time. My sister, Shari, was responsible to get me to school each morning, and most days, I really didn't want to go. There were a couple of times when poor Shari only in Junior High at the time had to literally fight me just to get me out the door. On one occasion, Shari successfully got me all the way to school and as soon as she was out of sight, I walked back home. Bette was there for us, and made sure I was safely returned to school. It became routine for me to go to the Bowman's after school to visit with Bette, help with Ricky and her new babies, Ben and Jill or just play in her yard with other neighborhood kids. Rick was an outdoors man so we always had something interesting to do like shoot a compound bow, ride the mini bike or practice casting our fishing poles in the driveway.  One time, Rick chased after a rabbit, caught it, hit it's head on the bumper of his pick up truck and brought it to Bette to cook for dinner. The Bowman's moved to Northern Wisconsin when I was a teenager. I miss them, but I cherish all my memories of them. 


Another neighbor, Lil Witek, lived directly behind our house. Lil was the elderly grandmother type. I would go visit Lil and play with her Shih Tzu, Snubby or with her grandchildren. Sometimes we would just watch TV or play a card game. Occasionally, Lil would send me on an errand to the corner store and she always gave me extra to go buy some penny candy. She never minded when the ball landed in her yard and we could always cut through her property as a short cut to the next block. Each Christmas, Lil would buy me a present, but she didn't deliver it herself. She sent Santa directly to my house from around the block. Santa would walk up the street and only visit my house just to see me. God Bless Lil and the rest of the Witek family. 


The Gleason's lived a few doors up the street. Donna was their youngest daughter. She was a  couple years older than me, but we were best friends. Donna's sister was cognitively delayed, in those days we called it mentally retarded. Connie rode the short bus and she was my first exposure to a child with special needs. She was so regimented in her day. She would journal which shows were on which days, what she ate, and pretty much everything in her life. She would fill notebooks full of her important information. The way her family cared for her was the perfect example for me to use as an adult in my job. They were patient, compassionate, and protective. Donna and I spent most of our childhood growing up together. Sometimes, we were destructive, but mostly we were just good kids that needed each other. 


Chad..........my younger brother. Maybe not in blood, but definitely in my heart. Chad, three years younger than me, lived down the street with his mom. His dad had died in military service and his mom raised him alone. His mom struggled with obesity and epilepsy. Tragically, she died in the OR during a procedure to "staple her stomach." Chad was sent into foster care and spent most of his remaining childhood with the same family about a mile away. My dad included Chad on some of our camping trips and other family celebrations. 


He and I were sports fanatics. We would always play football, basketball, and baseball regardless of the weather or the time of day. We would make up games so that the two of us could play together when there were no other kids interested in joining us. Step-ball was our favorite. We would make up tournament brackets and have marathon days of throwing a rubber ball against the porch stairs. The other player would have to field the ball for an out. If you misplayed it, a single. If you could get it to bounce over the fielder's head on a fly you would get extra bases. A home run went over the fence into Lil's yard. My dad hated when we played this game, because sometimes the ball would skip up and hit the screen door. The noise inside the house must have been deafening. 


As we got older, Chad and I would get together and party. One time, we were out with my boyfriend, Todd. We drove past a house that was having a party. Just outside in their car port was a untapped keg of beer. We drove around the block, parked and Chad and Todd cut through the yard to get their booty. I stayed behind as the wheel man. I got so nervous waiting for them. It took forever for them to scout and wait for the right moment to grab the beer and run back to the car. Just as I was about to go get them, they came running with the quarter barrel in hand. They got in the car and we took off. Now we had an untapped keg and no tapper. We were able to rent one from the liquor store where Todd worked. How funny to rent a tapper and not buy a keg! We went to my house tapped it and drank what we could. We left it in the garage and the next day my dad was like, hey what's with the beer in the garage? I was like help yourself. He did, but we couldn't drink it all before it went flat. 


Chad is one of the best athletes I have ever met. He could throw and hit with either hand. He played football and baseball in high school and earned a baseball scholarship to a Div 1 school. Unfortunately, he blew his shoulder, but he was able to finish his college degree at Carthage College. He played football for the Redmen. Today he is married with 4 boys, living just outside of Racine with his wife, Cori. A couple years ago, Chad confided in me how much my family helped him when we were growing up. Well bro, you helped us too. We all love you. 


There were others too....my sisters and brother would have a completely different list than me and so would our dad. Of course, our family helped too, but those helpers outside our family were God sent. Who is going to step up for Denise's family? 

Roller Coaster

Yep, I am an optimist. It says so right at the top of this page, but that doesn't mean that I don't get angry. Right now I am angry. At the same time I am filled with joy and grateful for so many things. I am walking on this narrow path. On one side is sorrow, frustration, anger, contempt and a gaping ravine that threatens to swallow me up. The other side is happiness, patience, love, faith and a glorious promise that the sun will continue to shine. 


Why am I on this path? What does God have in store for me? Why has He always been right there with me even when I didn't believe He was real? Every time I get an answer, more questions surface. I am so blessed....all of this has a reason. It's okay to be angry, sad, frustrated, and impatient......there is one that will grant you peace, patience, and love. Be faithful. 

The Blessing in Disguise

There are two topics I plan to write about that terrify me. In order to write this, I have to explore deep into the dark abyss of my heart. In the past, when I would go there, it was very difficult for me to find my way out. I would spend days or weeks in a depressed state. Today, when I decided that this was my next blog, I immediately felt nauseated. At the same time, I felt called by God to jump in and drag this out into the light. So here is my leap of faith.

In previous posts, I touched on the fact that I was raised by my single father. My mom took her own life when I was 5 years old. The details of the method are unimportant. What I am willing to share is that she suffered with depression during a time when it was considered taboo and when help was not readily available. Initially, the manner of my mom’s death was kept from me. My Aunt Marilyn took me aside on the morning of her death and explained to me that my mom was gone, just like my Grandma Isen had died a few months earlier. She was so tender and patient with me. She did all this in the midst of facing her own emotions about what her sister had just done. I was not allowed to attend the funeral. In those early days, my family went to great lengths to protect me. As I grew older, I questioned why they did that, but now I am grateful for the choices they made regarding the details and the circumstances of my mom’s suicide.

Growing up without a mom was a great struggle for me. I imagine it was much more difficult for my older sisters and brother because they knew the details and they had lived so much more of their lives knowing her. It would cause me so much pain and confusion when someone would ask about what happened to her. Sometimes I would lie and say she died of a disease. Other times I was honest and simply said I didn’t know and that I didn’t like to talk about it. I didn’t like to talk about it! Not with my dad, my siblings, or the counselors I was sent to go see. I held in all that pain and kept it for myself. I simply didn’t have the courage to let it out. It was safely packed away deep inside behind a huge wall. God had other plans for me. He constantly kept banging on the wall, causing cracks that would eventually bring the wall crashing down when I was a teenager.

I was 16 and my sister, Kim, had just moved to Colorado, gotten married, and had her first son, Sean. My dad and I were clashing constantly, and we needed some time apart. I hated him for not telling me how my mom had died, but I was too afraid to ask him about it. He and I were extremely close. He had raised me with so much love and always gave me attention. When it came time to make every decision in his life, from dating and recreating, to vacationing and working, I was his first consideration. So off to Colorado I went. During my time with Kim, I finally gathered the courage to start to talk about our mom. Slowly, tenderly and with great compassion, she revealed a lot of truth. She encouraged me to talk to Dad about it when I went home.

It took awhile, but eventually, I gathered the strength to have that conversation. We were watching TV together and I looked at him and said, “Dad, I want to talk to you about Mom.” He was so awesome! As difficult as it was for him, he must have known it was time for me to know the truth. He let me ask him all about it and answered every question with as much detail as I needed. He explained their relationship, her struggles, and how she couldn’t see any other way to fix her problems. He never blamed her, never said anything negative about her at all. A lot of healing occurred through that discussion, both in me and in him but mostly in our relationship. It must have lifted a great weight off of him to finally share it with me.

As I have grown older, I have found more courage to talk to Kim and Shari about our mom, Jerry not so much. Each of my sisters has told me things about her that confirms her love for us. There are stories of abuse too, but mostly of how much she enjoyed living. It sounds contradictory doesn’t it? She loved life yet she took it from herself. She took our mother from my sisters, brother and me. She took my Dad’s wife. She left us with each other though.  

My experiences, along with a book written by my friend’s mom have inspired me to lead a group on grieving. The name of the book is The Other Side of Grief, A Personal Faith Journey from Grief to Gratitude. I have come to find the gratitude in my mom’s suicide. I am grateful that I didn’t have to grow up with a mom and dad in the midst of a dysfunctional relationship. I didn’t have to see how sick she was. I didn’t have to live with the reality that even though she loved us, she needed to leave us. All I knew was the love of my two sisters, my brother and a father who made tough choices to protect me. When the right time came, they revealed the truth and did it in such a way that we now have a bond way stronger than most families. Many people would say my story is a tragedy, but I would say it was a blessing in disguise. 

Frank’s Other Mom and Dad

This weekend Mike and I went out of town to watch Mikey run at the State Cross Country meet. We left Frank home alone to watch the dogs, work and because he really hates watching any running. It leads me think how blessed we are that he is so responsible but also for his “Other Mom and Dad” ……..Mona and John Sykora.

It all started because Mikey was hanging out at his friend, Zach’s house. Zach lives next door to Mona and John, and the Sykora’s is one of those houses where all the kids want to spend time. They have a trampoline, a big swing set, a small swimming pool and a hospitable environment.  Mikey really likes being around younger kids and being a role model. One day, Frank joined him and I imagine that John needed help with something. Well, Frank loves to fix things, loves sports, loves electronics even more and loves big screen TV’s the most! Needless to say, there is no shortage of any of that at the Sykora’s house. As time went on, Mikey stopped going to Sykora’s and Frank started spending almost every day there.

It became sort of a joke, so much so, that we started referring to him as Frank Sykora and even J.B. (John’s Bitch). Frank would go with John or Mona to their kid’s sports practices, or to their business, Sylvan Learning Center or stay at their house to watch the kids. Apparently, this is amazing because they never trusted their kids with anyone outside their family the way they trust Frank.

One day, Mona pulled into my driveway looking for Frank, because Frank is the only one that really knows where everything is in their house, and they were missing one of the kid’s games or iPods or something. They were leaving later that day for a trip to Florida for a Sylvan Convention and Mona said, I wish I would have thought of this earlier, we should be taking Frank with us. Now imagine how all this made me feel. I was so happy that he was trustworthy, but he is my son damn it, not a Sykora.  There was no way I was going to let this family steal my son.

My husband, Mike and I started to talk to Frank about how much he did for them, the time he spent with them and how he was neglecting his responsibilities at his real home. We told him that he was our son; that even though they could provide him with things we couldn’t; we were his parents; we were the ones that had raised him to be so trustworthy and responsible.

In the summer of 2010, Frank started cutting the grass at Sylvan. This was a big job, which required a riding lawn mower and a push mower. Unfortunately, neither of them was working properly or at Sylvan. So I packed up our mower and Frank and drove him out to Sylvan and left him there to push the entire property. I expected that I had a few hours before he would call to get picked up. To my surprise the phone rang only an hour or so later. I answered expecting him to say he had finished already, or that he needed some gas or something. What I heard was him screaming in pain, barely comprehensible, stating that he had run his foot over with the lawn mower. He said some woman was driving him to the hospital and that she needed to know which hospital we want him to be taken. I had him put her on the phone, and I told her to take him to St. Catherine’s, the closest one to where he was. I hung up the phone and told Mike we needed to go, NOW, that Frank was hurt and that he was on his way to the hospital.

On the ride to the hospital, I remember praying that Frank would live, that he would not  be crippled, and that God would give us the strength to handle what ever the situation we were about to face. Mike was driving fast, and I nagged him that it wasn’t going to do Frank any good if we got in an accident on the way to the hospital. As we walked through the doors of the E.R. my stomach was filled with fear. We were taken to him and we discovered that the mystery Good Samaritan was John’s sister, Marian, who lives next to Sylvan. Frank had hopped on one foot to her door to get her help.

He was sitting in the bed with his left shoe off, a gauze pad resting over his foot, and blood dripping from his badly cut great toe. The look on his face was a combination of terror, sadness and concern. We learned that he had a broken toe, and that his toe nail and toe nail bed had been completely cut off by the lawn mower blade. Amazingly, it was not cut off completely. We had to wait for a specialist to look at the cut to see if they could reinsert the toe nail. Regrettably, there was no saving the toe nail. Someone asked if he had been wearing shoes or sandals and Frank’s reply was “Sandals, no, I’m not gay,” It was at that point, I knew everything was going to be okay.

Mona showed up to the hospital and I saw how much she loves my son. She doesn’t want to steal him, she really loves him, like one of her own. Later that fall, Frank went to Florida during Thanksgiving with the Sykora’s. He got to go to Disney World, Universal Studios and other Orlando attractions. The highlight of the trip was when they went to see a rocket launch in Cape Canaveral. I remember talking to Mona about giving them some money to help cover the cost of Frank going with them. She and John absolutely refused to accept anything. Her statement was “We love your son.” My emotions ranged from jealousy to happiness that Frank was able to do this with his “other” family.

Frank now works at Sylvan as a staff support/tutor. Mona got Mikey a job helping out at PTA meetings each month. Mona and John have given Frank and Mike help with ACT prep, tutoring, help with scholarship and college applications.

Mike and I don’t really socialize with Mona and John. It’s not that they aren’t great, we just socialize in different circles. Occasionally, I will stop at their house to see Mona and to make sure we are on the right track with the boys academically. Mona tells me things about Frank and Mike I would never know otherwise. Mona and John’s personalities, morals, priorities and accomplishments are different than Mike’s and mine. I am so thankful that my boys have a chance to have two sets of parents with different strengths and weaknesses to guide them into adulthood. I am thankful that they love my sons. 

Frank on the jet ski at the Sykora's Lake House

Oh......my God!

If you just met me and don’t really know me, you might think I have known and loved God my entire life. Maybe not…I could be more transparent than I think. Regardless, the fact remains, that I only recently began to truly believe in the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit. What I have come to realize is that my faith journey (sorry for the Christianese) is just that…mine. I wouldn’t be the person that I am today without experiencing the indifference, doubt, rebellion and revelation in my life so far.

When I was a kid, going to church meant sitting and listening to some boring stuff and getting to go out to breakfast afterwards. My parents belonged to a Lutheran church but after my mom passed away, my dad never really took me there. Instead, we would church hop, checking out different churches and denominations on a sporadic basis. The pay off for going was Dad would take me out for breakfast after the service. So I would sit there and stare at the clock, dutifully standing and sitting and kneeling at the appropriate time. I would try to follow along to the music and sing some of the words, but I never really thought about what was being said or sung. Occasionally though, bits and pieces would slip past the filter and I would catch something useful. The only other religious exposure I had at a young age was that on Good Friday, my dad would require that I sit still and be quiet from Noon to 3 p.m. I knew the reason he expected this, but it wasn’t like we ever talked much about God, Jesus or religion at any other time throughout the year. I should add that one of my most embarrassing experiences involving religion happened in the 6^th grade. Our teacher gave us an assignment that involved saying the name of the church to which our family belonged. Well, Atonement Lutheran was the church, but they sent out a news letter that was called “Atonement Chimes.” So I answered “Atonement Chimes” …..Thus exposing my ignorance and obvious lack of religious upbringing. Mr. Kowalske probably handled it better than I remember, but it had a real negative impact on me.

As I got into those teenage years, the payoff of breakfast just didn’t do it for me any longer. Sure it was a great way to spend one on one time with my dad, but I was a teenager……the last thing I wanted was to spend time with him. He was the reason everything was wrong in my life. Fortunately, my sister, Shari had married into the Roger’s family. Shari and her husband, Joe went to school at UW-La Crosse and his parents would bring me along on weekend visits. Alice and Jim are faithful Catholics and part of the weekend always included attending a church service. I really loved going to church in La Crosse. They had a banner hanging from the ceiling that said “This is God’s Country.” At the time I didn’t realize it but it was my first religious experience that was tongue in cheek. That impact however, was washed over by going out to dinner on a Friday night with the Rogers during Lent. I didn’t like all the rules about what you could eat, do and say. Joe’s sister, Jenny and I are the same age, and I remember Jenny whining about not being able to find anything appropriate to order on the menu. I felt so bad for her, and I was happy I didn’t have to follow those rules.

As a young adult, I just didn’t see any benefit to having a relationship with a higher power. I mean, I had been raised to live a moral life, not that I always did, but I wasn’t a serial killer or anything. So foolishly, I believed that my good was good enough. As long as I loved my family, was a good friend, and didn’t get caught breaking any really big laws, my life was mine to live the way I saw fit. It was at this time, that I began to deny the existence of the Holy Trinity. I remember a conversation I had with Bobbie Jo Buhr about organized religion and its hypocrisy and greediness. To me, it was better to think of the higher power as an alien that was just conducting a science experiment here on Earth. Sort of 2001 meet Dogma.

This must have been really difficult on my family. My husband, Mike, a confirmed Catholic, loved me in spite of my feelings toward God. I think he wanted to be with me more than he wanted to force his beliefs on me or perhaps he saw through my facade. What patience he showed with me. My dad married Judy, a faithful Catholic and with her shining example he returned to the Lutheran faith. I am so impressed by their ability to have a multidenominational relationship. They are so supportive of each other’s beliefs. Shari and Jerry both married Catholics and Kim married a Mormon. Each of my siblings converted to their spouse’s belief system, but I just couldn’t see myself becoming a Catholic. I was just too hung up on the hypocrisy and rules. So Mike and I never really did anything with organized church. We never took Frank and Mike to service, hardly ever read bible stories and never got them formally baptized. Periodically, Mike and I would discuss what to do about Frank and Mike’s lack of exposure to organized religion. I would always push back and for some reason Mike allowed it even though he didn’t agree with me.

Then our marriage hit the rocks! I mean Titanic like disaster. After 14 years, we lost all trust in each other and began growing apart. Somehow we found a life boat in Sue Panger. She wasn’t our first attempt at marital therapy, but she was the counselor that was effective. Her method was so non-judgmental and faithful.

She just absolutely refused to pick sides. Sue taught us to actively listen to each other, find common ground and communicate what we really meant. She also openly gave credit to God for everything. She began to open my eyes to what having a closer relationship with God could do for me.

The next step in God’s plan for me was Phyllis Holcomb and Shiela Williamson. Phyllis and I got extremely close because I was constantly running away from Mike and the problems at home. Phyllis provided me with a buoy to hang onto while I waited for the life boat to come. Her experiences and willingness to share them helped me see the benefit of doing the marriage work Mike and I had ahead of us. She continually told me what a horrible experience divorce would be and to make sure I exhausted every option before choosing it.  Shiela was more of a lighthouse. Ironically, Shiela is married to a non-believer. The greatest thing Shiela has taught me is to love your husband 100% even though he isn’t exactly who you want him to be. Shiela is a true believer and as far as I know, always has been. What a great example these two women provided for me.

Occasionally, when Phyllis and I would talk, she would mention wanting to go to church. She had attended a couple services with her sister and daughter but their schedule didn’t fit with hers. Amazingly, I offered to go with her. At first, it was just to do something for my friend/mentor. During the first service I attended at Great Lakes Church, I kept looking at everything through a cynic’s eyes, constantly on the look out for the hidden motive. Fortunately, GLC isn’t a stereotypical church. I loved the music, the way the message was delivered and the gracefulness of it. Suddenly, I wanted to attend weekly.

Poor Mike, I had completely spun a 180. We sat and talked for a couple days about my reasons to want to attend weekly and my insistance to bring Frank and Mike with me. In learning more about Jesus and the truth of his life, I started to accept Christianity as more than just a fairy tale. I opened my heart and now I consider myself a follower of Jesus Christ. Mike still hangs onto his Catholic upbringing but he is completely supportive of the boy’s and me attending GLC. To date, Mikey and I have been baptized and all three of us serve on at least one ministry team. Mike attends GLC with us periodically, and I am happy to say, God is a constant part of all of our lives. What a wonderful journey it has been so far……what more is there to come?

www.greatlakeschurch.com