Forgiveness. It's what's for supper.

Lots has happened since I was last here. Lots. Mostly good. Overwhelmingly good, actually.

Shortly after I last wrote, we had to leave for almost a month to be with my mom. She had open heart surgery that went fantastically well. A hiccup here and there, but she's doing great, and we are very thankful! Without it, she wouldn't be here today. Like I said. We're very, very thankful!

We also found out Hopper has virtually no immune system. This doesn't sound like a good thing, but it really is. She would still have virtually no immune system, if we didn't know, and at least by knowing, we can get her treatment. The treatment is getting infusions of replacement immunoglobulin once a month for the rest of her life. It's harvested from the B cells in the plasma that people donate. Her infusions contain the immunoglobulin from no less than 10,000 donors, and as much as 100,000 donors for each treatment! That amazes me! 

While I know some people give plasma, because it pays well, I also know there are others who donate for no other reason than to save lives. Regardless of the motivation behind the donations, I just want to say that we appreciate each and every person who donates to save our daughter's life! From the bottoms of our hearts, thank you!

Before the 'dear friend', (that tried to derail me), contacted me to see, if we could rebuild our friendship, I had already forgiven her. Instead of feeling sorry for myself and holding anger towards her, I started praying for her. It changed my mindset completely, and I had complete peace about all of it. I'm not saying that I'll let it happen to me again. I won't. I refuse to willingly participate in the destruction of anyone's mental health, including my own. 

I told her I would be willing to try to rebuild our friendship, but I also know that I'm okay with leaving it like it is, which looks nothing like it used to look. It's more of an acquaintance thing for now, and it likely will be for quite some time - perhaps forever. I've moved on. I harbor no ill feelings for her at all, but I don't think we're supposed to be really close friends, and my heart is okay with that, too. 

In spite of everything, I continue to dehoard. There are days that it might not look like much, but with each thing I toss, donate, or sell, my mind clears, and my mood lifts. Earlier this month, we got a couple of little cabinets to store our medical supplies, so we we are using shelves instead of drawers. I cleaned our old one out, purged a lot of things we no longer needed or used, and came across one thing that actually made me feel a bit sad for that person that I used to be. That person who didn't know how to clear the cobwebs from her mind enough to know that it was okay to throw certain things away.

I was finishing up the last little pile of items to sort that came out of the drawers of medical supplies yesterday. In it was a pair of those clip-on sunglasses that were covered in what looked like whitewash paint. I felt sad for the old me, who couldn't seem to throw them away, but I know her. She wasn't hanging onto them, because they were 'so important' to her that she couldn't part with them. She held onto them, because they were a splurge at a time when we couldn't really afford them, and she felt guilty they were messed up. She felt that somehow it was her responsibility to at least try to fix them, so they were usable again, and she stuck them in a tin to fix when she 'got around to it'. She just never got around to it.

And do you know what I did? I gave her a hug, I forgave her, told her to forgive herself, and then I promptly threw them in the trash. And it was freeing for both of us. 

It's amazing how good forgiveness tastes. 

Forgive us our tresspasses...

When we were growing up, Mom and Dad had us say The Lord's Prayer every night before bed. They said it together every night for 58.5 years. As a result, I watched my parents 'let bygones be bygones'. They showed us an amazing example of how to live, how to treat others, and how to be better people.

I have not been quite as faithful in saying The Lord's Prayer. I find that I get busy with everything that's going on, and I often don't take the time I should to be alone with my thoughts or to pray. That's one reason I find that I love painting, doing crafts or even laundry. It's really the only time I am alone with my thoughts.

Tonight, I was working in Hopper's room. The Hubster and I had gotten the baseboards cut over the weekend, and I wanted to work on installing them. I started in the closet, and while I was successful there, I didn't get much more accomplished as far as baseboards go, but I did get some shelves hung in the corner and painted. While I was working I had plenty of time to think.

I kept coming back to the mug I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. That and the quotation marks that have bothered me for years. Was I holding onto things that I needed to just let go? 

The answer? Guilty as charged.

The thing is, I have no regrets about getting rid of the mug. The mug was a reminder of much more than just the quotation marks...

The Hubster was deployed when I received the mug with flowers in it for my birthday. He was gone for a total of 15 months. Hopper was only 3 months old when he left. It was an exceptionally scary and stressful time for me. I was dealing with my husband being on the other side of the world, with Hopper's health and her lack of development, and I was also dealing with my in-laws, who thought there was nothing wrong with her, and that I was making everything up.

It didn't matter that we'd had genetic testing done that showed the chromosomal abnormality. It didn't matter, that she was hospitalized several times due to dehydration. It didn't matter that she wasn't progressing normally. It didn't matter that we had to feed her with a syringe that had IV tubing attached and running along the side of our finger to allow milk to be dispensed when she sucked correctly. It was my fault. I was the one that was overreacting and babying her.

Yes. My in-laws made sure to tell my husband every chance they got while we were separated by thousands of miles. My father-in-law also made sure to mention it repeatedly to my parents when he'd run into them around town. 

I could do no right in their eyes, and the mug is just a constant reminder of that, and I don't need to be reminded every single time I see it. It just makes me sad to think of that time in our relationship


It's been on my mind a lot lately, and I want to,  to let (I need even) to let it go. It weighs me down in way too many ways, and I don't want to become bitter over it all. I fear I've wandered a bit too far down that road as it is.

Over the last few weeks, though, I've seen things in a totally different light...


Nobody ever knows how they're going to react in any given situation. People don't know how they'll grieve when they lose a loved one. They don't know how they'll  handle themselves in a crisis situation, whether it be a diagnosis of cancer, a divorce or a car accident. 


My in-laws were reacting to having a granddaughter with severe special needs, with developmental delays, with hearing loss in their own ways. Their way didn't include encouraging words to me, but it was the only way they could do it at the time.


I get that. 


We do what we can to survive any crisis at the time. And if it means blaming someone else, that's what we do. Hopefully, at some point in the future we'll come to our senses and at the very least change our behavior and attitude, or better yet, we'll apologize for hurting another person with our actions. 


In the meantime, I choose to move on, forgive, and try to forget (and getting rid of the mug in the meantime will help with that) the hurt. Just because someone doesn't accept me with all my faults and warts doesn't mean I can't accept them.


After all, a wise person once said, "As soon as I'm perfect, I'll expect you to be." 


My husband is a wise, wise man.