And so Monday begins…
Tragically, the actor who played Finn on Glee, Cory Monteith, passed away Saturday. This is not the first or last (potentially) drug related death of a celebrity, and while so many are left scratching their heads, I am not. Many friends have posted and tweeted about how having that much money should be enough to cure someone of their addictions- sadly, that’s truly not the case. Rehabilitation does not happen from money thrown at the offending addiction- whether it is drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, an eating disorder, cutting, shopping, sex… The list could go on forever, but the solution is never simple. Inner strength, the true desire to quit and support are what heals a person.
It’s not just this week, but in light of tragedy it brings forth my thoughts: I am thankful to be from a family where this inner strength is no stranger. Each one of my family members has battle wounds from fighting fears, some addiction (I quite smoking cold turkey after 12 years) and personal demons- we may falter, but we never let each other fall. The Worth men and women will always stand- even if we aren’t holding our own weight, we will always have a hand. That is what makes us Worth Strong.This crazy tribe I grew up in is a group I didn’t know the power of- but seeing all that we can accomplish, all that we can dream and all the stars that we force into alignment has proven to me that I have a lot to be thankful for. Without having to say more, thanks for sticking by me and showing me how to do it- all of it.
This is from the book I Believe in Me: A Book of Affirmations (Connie Bowen) that I read to Addie every week.
My dwarfism tidbit of the week: GET TO KNOW YOUR DISTRICT!!! LPA has proven to be invaluable to us in the first year of Addie’s life. Not only does Addie have some amazing friends, but we do too. This weekend was the Newport Kite Festival and we were hesitant to go due to rain, until my friend Christine said: ON OUR WAY! She lives two hours away… I knew we were going after that!
I first met Christine and Joe (her amazing hubby) last year during a District 1 trip to Mystic Aquarium. I felt an instant bond- with both them and their girls B (who is also achon) and her little sister A. I cannot tell you how these friendships will help parents, new and seasoned, in navigating the ropes when it comes to questions, support and which box of cheap wine is the best. Seriously- these friends look out for me like family.
If you are new to LPA and the dwarfism community and are wondering where to start: Your local chapter is the place!
Lastly, My random. This Monday I ask you to take a moment and hug those around you. Wave hello to your mail person and ask them if they’d like water. Let someone go ahead of you without honking your horn and flailing your arms.
Kiss your loved one goodbye.
Last night, as I finished my last bite of dinner and took a sip of wine, my phone buzzed. Mom. The text was awful. It was only a few words- a short story- but it said it all. My neighbor had unexpectedly passed. Twenty-eight years of knowing this quiet man, who had a beaming smile, stood tall but always made you feel tall too, who always made a connection with those around him, who loved neighborhood gatherings as much as weekends on the green, who was always there even when we didn’t know, who held Addie in infancy and told me she was perfect. He was gone.
I don’t know why it feels like I lost another piece of my Dad, but all I can think of are my neighbor’s children, like they’re my age when I lost my father. They’re not. They’re older now. Twenties and thirties. But we are all babies. We aren’t ready to say goodbye. Are you ever?
This sudden loss has left me struggling… wondering how I will get home to say goodbye, to kiss my brothers and sisters from just a house away- to make sure I have done what I can to say goodbye to my neighborhood dad. I know we can’t afford it, so while my brain was wracking itself into a down-spiral, I laced up- bum foot, shoes with holes, in the dead air laden with humidity, and ran.
2.4 miles later, as I rounded the corner, fully intending to loop it again, the rain began to fall. He was telling me to stop. It was OK. I had done my piece. He was watching me. Running is back. Therapy is a must… and the road is the only one who can provide what I need.
Through tears, I felt the rain. Thank you for looking out for me.
I will always miss you, Ed.
Don’t Grieve For Me For Now I’m Free
Don’t grieve for me, for now I’m free
I’m following the path God laid for me.
I took His hand when I heard Him call;
I turned my back and left it all.I could not stay another day,
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way;
I found that place at the close of day.If my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.
A friendship shared a laugh, a kiss;
Ah yes, these things, I too will miss.Be not burdened with times of sorrow
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life’s been full, I savored much;
Good friends, good times, a loved ones touch.Perhaps my time seems all to brief;
Don’t lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, He set me free.Anon
Tell them you love them.
Oh, Chelley… I am writing this through tears that have not come ’til now. I have not stopped to cry. I have been too numb. Too brokenhearted. I have had JOY to forever and beyond and needed to FEEL that… with my beautiful grandbaby Victoria. I couldn’t stop for the pain. ‘Til your words came. Right now. Our dearest, dearest friend, Bill, died a week ago yesterday. He was 61. Barry and I have known Bill, his wife, his kids, his for decades. We have business dealings with Bill, too. He is in our lives as intimately as any family member. Maybe more so. He was diagnosed with cancer in March. Chemo began. Chemo side effects destroyed his lungs. He died on his own terms. We were with him in his hospital room when he returned to God. On the Saturday before his death and on the day of his death, we had long, philosophical, funny, interesting, gripping conversations about death. He wasn’t afraid. He described it as “curious”… not as spiritual as I am, for sure… but with such courage and maybe even a bit of anger at the shitty turn of events. We talked of coming back. He knows I believe in signs. We determined that he would come back in sunsets… because the sunsets of the days before his death were SO magnificent. Welcoming. A sign. Sunset is both an end and a new promise of a new day. Bill loved my kids. Oh, he LOVES my kids, my grandkids… and he will be visiting a lot. Today I cry. I cry for the grief of loss. For not hearing his footsteps on our front portico. Bill lived in Warren and was so happy to have us back on the East Bay. I cry for his life cut short, even if the end was on his terms. I weep for Barry, who loves Bill as a brother… who carried his casket and so stoically, with such grace, such love, such friendship… a friendship so rare. I cry for the hundreds of people who came to his services to say good-bye and I am honored to have known Bill here on earth. I cry for his 2 little grandsons who wore Poppy’s ties on the day of his burial.
And I smile for LIFE. LIFE so full and so vibrant and for having had people like Bill to share the journey. I smile for my darling Victoria, my beautiful grandkids and a new one on the way! I smile for my Mom and Barry and my friends, like you. And green grass. Flowers. Music. Iced coffee. Pink ribbons. Cameras to capture as much as possible. Adelaide. Tomatoes. Rose of Sharon that my Dad loved so much. Surrounded with LIFE and knowing, knowing how much those who have passed want us to celebrate each moment of each day.
I am so sorry for your loss. I am so happy for your wisdom.
I just ran out to give my mailman and the painters working on our home bottles of water. They smiled like angels. Because angels talk to you, my beautiful friend… xo
oh, Chelley, oh, Sharon…your words bring tears and relief from heart-pains. Thank you. Love you.
Wow, I was in tears reading your post Chelley and then I read Sharon’s too! I pray for both of you and for the friends you have lost. Today, I am thankful that my family is with me and I thank you for sharing your post.
Chelley, I am SO sorry to hear about your neighbor. As my mom said in her comment, we lost a very dear family friend very recently, too, and it is such a blow. Sending you so much love. I am so happy you’ve found a great network through LPA. Sounds like such a fab community!
Sorry to hear about your neighbor. When it comes to people jumping to conclusions about other people’s lives, no one knows what some else is truly going through and shouldn’t pass judgement. In my experience, the ones who pass the most judgement are the ones who have the most they want to stay hidden.