True Colors

As a parent or any other caring person, it’s heartbreaking to see children or people with handicaps struggle to be accepted. I have always loved the song True Colors, but when I saw this video I fell more in love with the message. Life has enough challenges without the sadness of rejection. Treating everyone with love and respect is the answer. I hope you’ll share the video with your kids.

MattyBRaps ft Olivia Kay

True Colors

By Cyndi Lauper

You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realize
Its hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small

But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful
Like a rainbow

Show me a smile then
Don’t be unhappy, can’t remember
When I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you’ve taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I’ll be there

And I’ll see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful
Like a rainbow

Simply Be There

If, you know someone who has mastered listening, I bet you appreciate them. They are in tune to how you speak and what you mean. Sometimes they know just what you need or want even though you haven’t expressed it. Some people listen completely, not just hearing what you say, but are absorbing body language and tone of voice to know whether to listen in silence or when advice is wanted.

Often times it’s hard to figure out what another person needs, especially when we’re not completely listening. Sometimes being there for someone simply means making yourself available in silence, making the other feel cared for and supported. Be there for someone by being invested in them. Care because they are a part of you and you feel what they feel. Embrace them when they’re happy, embrace them when they’re sad. Listen to know when they need to be held tightly or when they need some space.

Do you know someone who has mastered listening? Are you a good listener?

Cared For

A Magical Adventure

In 1991, Mark literally slept in a coma through Mother’s Day, Memorial Day and Father’s Day. Not to mention my birthday and our twelve year wedding anniversary. Although he was awake for Independence Day, Labor Day, Halloween, his birthday and Thanksgiving, all those holidays were spent in the hospital for rehabilitation. We were overjoyed Mark would finally be home for Christmas. Last year I wrote what it took to get Mark home for the holidays. It’s one of my hardest, yet happiest Christmas memories so I wanted to share it again with a new twist.

Christmas MagicChristmas can be a magical time, when wishes are granted and this definitely was the case for us twenty-three years ago. After eight lengthy months of hospitalization, I was finally able to bring Mark home —  just in time for Christmas. He was far from better and still needed extensive therapy and care, so I worked on establishing a “day- patient” schedule where he’d be there all day for therapy and I’d be able to care for him every night at home. At the time he wasn’t able to feed himself or take care of any personal needs. Mark’s doctor, Joseph Vickroy, and the rehab team of speech, occupational and physical therapist, requested that we spend several nights in an apartment-like room located in the center unit where Mark had been for six months. They felt it was important for me to understand the responsibility of caring for Mark before they released him.

I thought the request was trivial since I had spent every day with him and fed him most meals anyway; however, I understood their concern and agreed to do it. I spent several nights there and took complete responsibility for him. Our two children also spent a few nights there to understand what life would be like to have Dad at home. We passed the test and Mark was discharged from the hospital.

Once we realized Mark was going to be wheelchair dependent, we knew some home modifications would be necessary. In October 1991, we started building a large room which would become our bedroom with a wheelchair accessible bathroom off the back of the house. Fortunately, my dad and brothers work in construction and they were willing to do the job. My oldest brother, Mick, designed the addition with a ramp for the new back entrance. If you’re blessed to have a father who is an excavating contractor, “you can’t add a room without a basement.”

Top: Left - Don breaking ground. Right - Steve, Mick, Dad preparing for footings. Middle: Left- Dad. Right - Steve and Mick pouring the footings. Bottom: Left - Steve and Dad. Right - Mick, Steve and Dad pouring the cement floor.

Top:        Left – Don breaking ground.          Right – Steve, Mick, Dad preparing for footings.
Middle:  Left – Dad trying to escape.            Right – Steve and Mick pouring footings.
Bottom: Left – Steve and Dad.                        Right – Mick, Steve and Dad laying cement floor.

Because they were building this addition on their own time after work, it was not completed in December. Despite the unfinished construction we wanted Mark home for Christmas. Mark’s care was physically difficult until the new bedroom and bathroom were finished, but well-worth all the effort to have him finally home. Our regular bedroom wasn’t big enough for all the equipment now needed for Mark. Our queen-sized bed had to be replaced with a single-sized hospital bed. At night, after I transferred him into bed, I would raise it as high as it could go and place my air mattress on the floor in the only space available — which meant my legs were tucked under the bed. Worried that Mark might forget I was there and use the controls to lower it, I would unplug the bed every night.

This sleeping arrangement made for nightly jokes. I often said as I unplugged the bed, “You are now out of control.” He teasingly replied, “But, I’ve got the top.”

Our living quarters were cramped and hard with the construction going on, but it was so worthwhile. My heart is filled with gratitude for my dad and brothers who made our home a place where Mark could live. Our trials were lightened by their skills and hard work. They opened up possibilities for our new circumstances.

Top: Left Don knocking out the brick wall into the new addition Bottom: Left - Chris, Katie, Dad and Mick nailing the top floor down. Right - Chris and Katie painting our the new room.

Top: Left and Right – Don knocking out the brick wall into the new addition.
Bottom: Left – Chris, Katie, Dad and Mick nailing the top floor down.                                       Bottom: Right – Chris and Katie painting our the new room.

Chris Chipping, a friend and former employer of Mark’s, did the electrical wiring for our new addition while another friend, Walt Fisher, did the plumbing. It was a crazy busy home with construction going on for five months until the addition was completed. But, after eight months of living in a hospital — it truly was the merriest of Christmas’s to have Mark finally home.

In 1991 our world was turned upside down, but I learned “a magical adventure awaits those who venture forth.” The magic comes from the love of God, family and friends with a lot of hard work sprinkled in.

Finished room in March. Christopher, Mark and Katie.

Finished room in March 1992. Christopher, Mark and Katie. Mark in our new queen-size adjustable bed.

You Raise Me Up

You Raise Me Up

April 27, 1991

Shortly after the dreaded phone calls, my brother, Don, and sister, Rosanne, arrived at the hospital carrying a folding chaise lounge. Always thinking ahead and being the protective big sister, Rosanne came prepared with something for me to sleep on if needed. Appreciating how lucky I am to have all my family live close by me and able to rearrange their Saturday evening plans to be with me, I felt loved, supported and secure with them uniting around me.

We got permission for all seven of us to go into Mark’s room together that evening. Tears were shed by each family member at the sight of a young man, who at the beginning of the day was full of life and excitement for a new job and the adventure of moving to a different city. Now he lay comatose, entangled in tubes that were connected to the equipment keeping him alive. Dad and my three brothers laid their hands on Mark’s head and gave him a blessing. Dad’s words were soothing and the spirit I felt was calming. I remember many of the words spoken, but most vividly I recall the love, concern and the comfort I felt. With Mark’s rotating bed stilled for the blessing, the pumping noises of the other equipment and strange I.C.U. smells seemed to disappear from the room.  In the midst of my darkest hours arose tender mercies. Surrounded by my family, the room became my sanctuary.

McKay-Dee Hospital was wonderful to us. They offered a room for us to sleep in at the Ronald McDonald House close by the hospital. My parents and I stayed in a room with a queen size bed and recliner chair. With my broken collarbone I couldn’t breathe lying down anyway so I slept in the recliner. My sister took back her chaise lounge realizing we had adequate sleeping arrangements and my siblings went home for the evening.

Like a wild fire, the word was spreading, leaving a painful scorch on all of our loved one’s hearts. The next day, being Sunday, many neighbors, friends, cousins, aunts and uncles gathered at the hospital. They were not allowed in the Intensive Care Unit so they shared their love and support with me in the waiting room. Mark’s Mom and Uncle Glynn flew in from Arkansas on Monday and his sister’s, Karen and Jerrie, flew in from Washington. They stayed a few days at the Ronald McDonald house with us. I was in awe at the number of people who came. Each person’s love and support lifted me up and added light to my days. They helped bring me out of the dark and deep hole I had fallen into, which gave me purpose and encouragement to move on and look upward.

I thought Mark would want me to go to his new employer, Robertson Electric, personally to let them know about the car accident and his condition. Dad and Steve went to the junkyard on Sunday to retrieve Mark’s tools and clipboard from the car. I looked in the clipboard to find his time card and the address of the office. Early Monday morning Dad drove me there and I met Mark’s employer for the first time. I explained that due to Mark’s condition, I didn’t know when he would be back to this new job he was so excited about. Mr. Robertson was kind and compassionate about the situation and told me not to worry. The job would still be there whenever Mark was well enough to work. I handed him Mark’s clipboard and he told me if there was anything he could do to help not to hesitate to call. For the next several weeks they called the hospital to check on Mark’s condition and sent him flowers.

The critical twenty-four hours turned into forty-eight and then seventy-two. As the days turned into weeks, my family devised a plan to encourage and enable me to go home on weeknights to be with our children, Christopher and Katie. Each brother and my brother-in-law, Klint, took an assigned night Monday through Thursday to stay overnight with Mark. They drove over sixty miles to go to the hospital right after work and in the morning they’d drive right back to their various workplaces. After I got the kids off to school, Mom would drive me to the hospital. She spent nearly every day there with me and then drove me home in the afternoon. Friday through Sunday I spent the days and nights there alone with Mark while the kids stayed at my parent’s home. Sunday Mom and Dad would bring the kids to the hospital for a visit then Sunday night, Dad stayed with Mark while Mom drove the kids and I home. Without a car and because of my broken collarbone I wasn’t able to drive for six weeks so I was totally dependent on my parents for transportation.

Every family member pitched in to help me as well as the children through this strenuous time. Friends and extended family drove many miles to see us while others flew from places too far to drive. People from different churches prayed for us. I felt the love and support of many and learned how caring and kind even strangers are. “You raised me up: to more than I can be” and I am forever grateful for you.