I will blog about my amazing experience in DC lobbying for childhood cancer. I will blog about Gideon's first experience at Camp Catch a Rainbow with all of the other children fighting cancer. I will blog about Brody's amazing seventh birthday... I will blog about it all, but first...
First I need to say that two amazing people lived two doors down from me when I first moved to Kalamazoo. We lived on a cozy Milwood street where every house seemed to breathe with its own character and charm. The houses had more stories than the people who owned them, there is no doubt about that. Old and thick tree trunks lined the road, and perennials from what seemed to have been planted a million years ago popped up huge and impressive in every garden. I loved it there. I loved that we closed down our street to have our own summer festival. I loved how everyone helped one another out.
My favorite neighbors, the Oudings, stood out above the rest. Katie ran her own daycare out of her home and I tried and tried to get Brody in as one of her charges, but the girl was TOOOOO popular. I was forever on a waiting list. It was no surprise as to the reason. She ran her daycare with a sweet calmness that seeped with learning and exploration. She loved those children and poured herself into them (she reminds me a lot of the boys' current daycare provider, thankfully).
Mike, her hubby, was into the same quirky movies I was into and it was beyond easy to talk to both Mike and Katie. When we had to move away, I think I cried about the house as well as leaving such an amazing street. A couple of months before the move, Katie introduced me to her "instant family" as she called it. She and Mike adopted three Liberian siblings: Christian, Blessing and Vic. Vic watched us guardedly, but it was obvious that this little honey had a ton of personality. Blessing smiled happily when she met Brody and me on our walk. Then there was Christian. I will never forget the way he went right up to baby Brody and instantly connected with him. Christian seemed to have that "big brother" charm with the little ones. He had a true glow of life that poured out of his eyes, and he was so very polite.
Unfortunately, this was my only one-on-one experience with the children as the Oudings moved to the Grand Rapids area soon after we moved. Thankfully, we stayed connected through Facebook. I happily watched as their family grew in size and in number. When Gideon was diagnosed, Katie and Mike showered countless comforting and loving words on us. They made me laugh over our "little girl mullet" comparisons that both Katie and I sported back in the day, and they just are a family I truly look up to and respect.
They were there for me through my tragedy, and now I am finding it impossible to find a way to be there through theirs. Tomorrow I will be going to the visitation for Christian, their oldest child, who lost his life to Lake Michigan. He was a true soccer prodigy, and he never lost that glow of friendliness that made such a deep impression on me. Here is where I am lost. Here is where I just want to pull out my hair and scream out "WHY". Ouding family, your grace through this tragedy is nothing short of miraculous. I wish I had something I could say or do to lift some of the crushing heaviness that is the weight of losing your son. That is impossible.
The only thing I can think of is to send out this story of your incredible family on Gideon's cancer blog. As tiny as it is, all I can do right now is send out a message to everyone else, everyone else who still has a family with living and breathing children within the four walls you are blessed enough to call a "home" (including myself):
- Never leave one another without an "I LOVE YOU."
- Inboxes are inboxes, dust is dust, messiness is messiness, and it will always be that way. Kids will not always be kids, so stop stressing about things that will not matter in 20 years, and LIVE.
- Bask in memories and moments.
- Surround yourself with supportive and understanding people. People who do not feel that they are "owed", but continuously reach out with loving hearts and gracious spirits. A friend is someone who you may not see or talk to often, but when you are together, it feels like home.
- Be yourself and open yourself up to let the people in your life change you for the better.
- Focus on the blessings in your life and do not let negativity cloud what you have in the here and now.
- Do not look sideways at the people around you and the things of this world. Focus inward and let all that is in, out. Shine that soul of yours to others every single day, the way Christian did.
So many prayers are headed in your direction, Ouding family. Everyone who reads this, please do the same and pray. Thank you.
Cancer-FREE
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
It's Friday :)
Yesterday began my folded-accordion-of-emotions boy. One narrow paper accordion plane is a sweet and happy boy, but it butts right into the paper part that is frustration and moodiness. That one rests on the part of the fan that represents the hunger and the cravings...where nothing else matters and all the world is a chicken drumstick. On and on the fan folds, back and forth, emotion resting upon emotion until the fan is complete and the week that is Steroid Week is fanned into a fire. We never know which section we will be in, and everyone watches him, waiting. I just want to reside in two of those fan sections: the cuddly love and the sweet and kind section.
Before he took his first steroid of this regimen, Gideon was sick twice yesterday, had chemo at the clinic and was the most constipated I have ever seen him. I was supposed to hang out with my cancer-mom-friends last night, but there was no way I could leave the boy with a toilet attached to his bottom as tears ran down his cheeks and he cried, “Owie. Owie. Owie.” He sat there for an hour as I knelt in front of him, rubbing his belly. THANK YOU to all of you who helped with advice! We went the Miralax, 7Up, and Prune juice route. I am happy to report: The Portage sewers tripled in capacity around 10:30 last night. Taaaadaaaaa! Don't worry, I won't attach a picture.
I adore Gideon's free nature, and I know that the drugs hinder who he truly is as a person. I love how he is so in touch with not only his nature, but nature-nature. He will forego any game, any ride, anything at all to plant a flower in the garden with me – even when he is deeply entrenched in his steroid usage. He is so curious about how an ant lives out her day, about the way clouds change shape, and which birds sing which song. He wants to know the name of every plant and every flower. My garden has never been so green, so flower-filled as now. My boy never forgets to water it, he deadheads better than I do, and he always takes the time to admire all that grows from the earth as he weeds. We could both spend an entire day in a greenhouse. My personal, most recent favorite activity is to go on listening walks with my boys. At night, we listen to recordings of birds known to live in our area, we study the sounds and quiz one another (the cardinal thinks everything is “PRETTY.” He is forever chirping, “Purdy! Purdy! Purdypurdypurdypurdy!” A good reminder to look around outside, huh?). Then, we go for a walk the next day and try to pick each song out of the choir of birds. Life is so gorgeously musical when we can isolate every piece of beauty, every section of the bird choir, and appreciate an individual sound. Ugh. May I say how thankful I am for my boys? They slooooow me down to make fleeting moments last, and the smallest and most ignored things the most gorgeous.
I also want to celebrate how my Brody is becoming such a peaceful problem-solver. When Gideon is ready to attack with fists flying during steroids, Brody has a way of blanketing him with peace. We ran out of time for a bath, so it was shower-time instead. I packed them both in there, and immediately there was a fight over who got to be under the water stream. I heard Brody say cheerfully, “I have an idea, Gideon! How about we take turns under there? The person out of the water gets to play with a toy while he waits. Do you want to have the first turn under the water?” Notice how he didn't ask if Gideon wanted to take turns, he just offered Gideon the first turn. This boy is going somewhere. I know it! He also said to me yesterday, “Mommy, if I could get a Beyblade organizer, that would be great. I will sort the parts into different compartments, and then I will have great practice to help you organize your drawers. I could put your paints in one holder, your brushes in another, see? That Beyblade organizer would help both of us.” SQUEEEEEEEZABLE.
Brody and Gideon, when you read this blog someday, I want you to take note of the date. This was the week that our “PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME” was completely taken over by the two of you. This is a huge deal to me, your mama. Incase you forgot (I hope you haven't), on our way to school each morning, I reach my hand into the backseat. Brody grabs my thumb and Gideon grabs my pinky. Our arms make a peace sign, and I pray about our day. I thank God for waking up and hearing two sweet “Good morning”s coming from your precious mouths. We talk to God about our hopes, about our sins, about things we want to change about ourselves and how we need to love those around us – especially the hard-to-love ones. We pray for grace and that we can extend that grace out of ourselves. Mommy prays that she doesn't lose sight of the good in ALL people, and that her momma-bear claws stop popping out over small issues. Brody prays that he smiles more at people, and Gideon prays that he will try new food without gagging it back up. You both used to add snippets, but let me pray the bulk of it. Not this week. This week, the peace sign was extended and I asked Brody if he wanted to start. Brody, your prayer flowed out of you as you talked to God like the personal savior He is, and I felt tears of absolute elation prick in my eyes. You said after your prayer, “Gideon, would you like to keep going?” And Gideon, you just let it all out: Praising God for the rain because you knew your flowers would grow the best from rain instead of the hose. You went on to pray that you would do better at listening to mommy the FIRST time. Again, you prayed about it all. I felt the Holy Spirit filling my soul with light because of you boys. I can't wait to hear what you will say in today's PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME. Speaking of, time to go!
The world is going to be alright. Happy Friday, all!
Before he took his first steroid of this regimen, Gideon was sick twice yesterday, had chemo at the clinic and was the most constipated I have ever seen him. I was supposed to hang out with my cancer-mom-friends last night, but there was no way I could leave the boy with a toilet attached to his bottom as tears ran down his cheeks and he cried, “Owie. Owie. Owie.” He sat there for an hour as I knelt in front of him, rubbing his belly. THANK YOU to all of you who helped with advice! We went the Miralax, 7Up, and Prune juice route. I am happy to report: The Portage sewers tripled in capacity around 10:30 last night. Taaaadaaaaa! Don't worry, I won't attach a picture.
I adore Gideon's free nature, and I know that the drugs hinder who he truly is as a person. I love how he is so in touch with not only his nature, but nature-nature. He will forego any game, any ride, anything at all to plant a flower in the garden with me – even when he is deeply entrenched in his steroid usage. He is so curious about how an ant lives out her day, about the way clouds change shape, and which birds sing which song. He wants to know the name of every plant and every flower. My garden has never been so green, so flower-filled as now. My boy never forgets to water it, he deadheads better than I do, and he always takes the time to admire all that grows from the earth as he weeds. We could both spend an entire day in a greenhouse. My personal, most recent favorite activity is to go on listening walks with my boys. At night, we listen to recordings of birds known to live in our area, we study the sounds and quiz one another (the cardinal thinks everything is “PRETTY.” He is forever chirping, “Purdy! Purdy! Purdypurdypurdypurdy!” A good reminder to look around outside, huh?). Then, we go for a walk the next day and try to pick each song out of the choir of birds. Life is so gorgeously musical when we can isolate every piece of beauty, every section of the bird choir, and appreciate an individual sound. Ugh. May I say how thankful I am for my boys? They slooooow me down to make fleeting moments last, and the smallest and most ignored things the most gorgeous.
I also want to celebrate how my Brody is becoming such a peaceful problem-solver. When Gideon is ready to attack with fists flying during steroids, Brody has a way of blanketing him with peace. We ran out of time for a bath, so it was shower-time instead. I packed them both in there, and immediately there was a fight over who got to be under the water stream. I heard Brody say cheerfully, “I have an idea, Gideon! How about we take turns under there? The person out of the water gets to play with a toy while he waits. Do you want to have the first turn under the water?” Notice how he didn't ask if Gideon wanted to take turns, he just offered Gideon the first turn. This boy is going somewhere. I know it! He also said to me yesterday, “Mommy, if I could get a Beyblade organizer, that would be great. I will sort the parts into different compartments, and then I will have great practice to help you organize your drawers. I could put your paints in one holder, your brushes in another, see? That Beyblade organizer would help both of us.” SQUEEEEEEEZABLE.
Brody and Gideon, when you read this blog someday, I want you to take note of the date. This was the week that our “PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME” was completely taken over by the two of you. This is a huge deal to me, your mama. Incase you forgot (I hope you haven't), on our way to school each morning, I reach my hand into the backseat. Brody grabs my thumb and Gideon grabs my pinky. Our arms make a peace sign, and I pray about our day. I thank God for waking up and hearing two sweet “Good morning”s coming from your precious mouths. We talk to God about our hopes, about our sins, about things we want to change about ourselves and how we need to love those around us – especially the hard-to-love ones. We pray for grace and that we can extend that grace out of ourselves. Mommy prays that she doesn't lose sight of the good in ALL people, and that her momma-bear claws stop popping out over small issues. Brody prays that he smiles more at people, and Gideon prays that he will try new food without gagging it back up. You both used to add snippets, but let me pray the bulk of it. Not this week. This week, the peace sign was extended and I asked Brody if he wanted to start. Brody, your prayer flowed out of you as you talked to God like the personal savior He is, and I felt tears of absolute elation prick in my eyes. You said after your prayer, “Gideon, would you like to keep going?” And Gideon, you just let it all out: Praising God for the rain because you knew your flowers would grow the best from rain instead of the hose. You went on to pray that you would do better at listening to mommy the FIRST time. Again, you prayed about it all. I felt the Holy Spirit filling my soul with light because of you boys. I can't wait to hear what you will say in today's PEACE SIGN PRAYER TIME. Speaking of, time to go!
The world is going to be alright. Happy Friday, all!
Monday, May 28, 2012
Lots to say...Lots to see...
HAPPY PICTURES:
I know I am driving my Facebook friends crazy with the goings-ons of Hotwheels, Charlie, Sparkles, Eli, Ella, Capricorn and Pegasus (plus Steve, the adopted one who was saved from the birdbath). Thankfully for you, and those aforementioned, our little sweet thangs have taken flight. It has been a journey, as seen here:
Yes, our little pieces of skinny and moving string ate and got fat, hung themselves into an ever-so-still J shape, spun into chrysalides (did you know that was the plural form of "chrysalis"? I didn't...), and emerged gorgeous butterflies. We let them go today, and it was a blast. One in particular, I think it was Capricorn, didn't want to leave Brody.
We are thankful to report that Grandpa Schripsema is on the mend after his bypass surgery! He is recovering in the hospital and is in pain, but everyone is hopeful that he will ease into this healthier heart and be able to live life to its fullest, once again!
On a sad note, over 21,000 acres of gorgeous Upper Peninsula wildlife has been burned. It is within 51% of containment, but we are still praying that is completely extinguished. Family and friends in Grand Marais have told me that the dark clouds are definitely visible. Please keep praying for the crews fighting the fire, and click here to keep on top of the situation.
Speaking of Grand Marais, I need to give a public THANK YOU to the people of Grand Marais who have sent care packages to both of my boys every single month since Gideon was diagnosed. They never let up, never stopped. It just goes to show that the smallest of towns actually DO have the largest hearts. Brody and Gideon have recently been receiving money shaped as different origami-type things. Most recently, they received money chains. Here are pictures of them wearing their money before going into Target to get this month's goody from the sweeties of Grand Marais.
THANK YOU, Grand Marais!
Some more amazing news: we received a letter from the lovely and talented Judy Markee letting us know that the "Gideon's Gift" piece that ran on Channel 3 has been nominated for an Emmy! What makes me ecstatic about that is that more people could potentially hear about, become aware, and become impassioned to do something in order to make childhood cancer a disease that is not one that notoriously gets the least funding/airtime of all cancers.
Speaking of this, I recently had an "aha!" moment about the public's perspective of pediatric cancer... Since Gideon is directly in the trenches of fighting childhood cancer, I am never completely shocked or taken off guard when asked to sign forms basically saying that anything could happen due to the chemo -- including death. Oh, it's not something that is ignored. It is not something I sign lightly and I can't say that my heart isn't gripped in absolute terror every time I sign this form, but I have found the alternative is not a road we can go down without trying, and by trying, we have to sign the form. As chemo/radiation becomes more intense and as many children are forced to try experimental test drugs, those risks become much greater. Recently, when this was reiterated, I was told a few people were "shocked and upset" by this news. Yes. It is shocking and it is upsetting. It should be. What I realized by this particular shock I was told about is that educating the public about pediatric cancer must be a top priority. I remember when HIV and AIDS was completely swept under the rug and people knew of it, but didn't educate. Now people know about it in so much more detail. What happens with pediatric cancer is that as adults, we don't want to think about what it is doing or can do to our babies. We don't want to know. We want to believe that a child's chances of beating it are at least as probable as an adult's, and sometimes it is. But, childhood cancer is an entirely different beast than adult cancer. These children are still growing. Cell division is different. The cancer is different. It is more persistent. Please world, see that this is not just nameless faces and children this cancer is attacking. Be shocked and be upset, and then continue to do something to battle it! Thank you.
Off my soapbox... Gideon receives Vincristine on Thursday and we start steroid week! Yes, there are chicken drumsticks in the fridge.
I think I'll end this blog with adorable anecdotes.
Story #1: Gideon asked if he could bring "SMART WATER" to bed with him instead of normal water. This is that water that comes in that loooooong shape, and, you guessed it (since you are so smart) it says "SMART WATER" on the side. I heard Gideon upstairs bragging about his special H2O. "Ask me anything," Gideon said with absolute confidence, "I am drinking Smart Water, and I will know the answer."
"Okay, what's 9 times 44?" Brody asked.
Then I heard, "Hold on, I need to take another few drinks... I don't think it's working yet."
(Adorable boy)
Story #2: This one Tom told me. He took Brody to the Skate Park downtown. There were a group of boys without skateboards sitting on the side. They began taunting Brody. Brody noticed that they didn't have boards, so he stood his ground. Instead of getting really upset, he invited them over to skateboard with him. Later he told me, "Those boys just were acting mean because they were sad they didn't have a board. I didn't get as many turns as I would if I didn't share, but I made new friends and they weren't mean anymore."
I want to be like Brody. Oh, to be six and to understand the beauty of sharing what he has with those without! He could have said, "NO WAY! I saved up my OWN money for this board and it is ALL mine!" (True story: he did save up every nickel and dime until he could buy it. He worked hard to earn that money, too.) But he didn't, and he knew what he did was the right thing to do. We should ALL be like Brody.
I know I am driving my Facebook friends crazy with the goings-ons of Hotwheels, Charlie, Sparkles, Eli, Ella, Capricorn and Pegasus (plus Steve, the adopted one who was saved from the birdbath). Thankfully for you, and those aforementioned, our little sweet thangs have taken flight. It has been a journey, as seen here:
Yes, our little pieces of skinny and moving string ate and got fat, hung themselves into an ever-so-still J shape, spun into chrysalides (did you know that was the plural form of "chrysalis"? I didn't...), and emerged gorgeous butterflies. We let them go today, and it was a blast. One in particular, I think it was Capricorn, didn't want to leave Brody.
We are thankful to report that Grandpa Schripsema is on the mend after his bypass surgery! He is recovering in the hospital and is in pain, but everyone is hopeful that he will ease into this healthier heart and be able to live life to its fullest, once again!
On a sad note, over 21,000 acres of gorgeous Upper Peninsula wildlife has been burned. It is within 51% of containment, but we are still praying that is completely extinguished. Family and friends in Grand Marais have told me that the dark clouds are definitely visible. Please keep praying for the crews fighting the fire, and click here to keep on top of the situation.
Speaking of Grand Marais, I need to give a public THANK YOU to the people of Grand Marais who have sent care packages to both of my boys every single month since Gideon was diagnosed. They never let up, never stopped. It just goes to show that the smallest of towns actually DO have the largest hearts. Brody and Gideon have recently been receiving money shaped as different origami-type things. Most recently, they received money chains. Here are pictures of them wearing their money before going into Target to get this month's goody from the sweeties of Grand Marais.
Some more amazing news: we received a letter from the lovely and talented Judy Markee letting us know that the "Gideon's Gift" piece that ran on Channel 3 has been nominated for an Emmy! What makes me ecstatic about that is that more people could potentially hear about, become aware, and become impassioned to do something in order to make childhood cancer a disease that is not one that notoriously gets the least funding/airtime of all cancers.
Speaking of this, I recently had an "aha!" moment about the public's perspective of pediatric cancer... Since Gideon is directly in the trenches of fighting childhood cancer, I am never completely shocked or taken off guard when asked to sign forms basically saying that anything could happen due to the chemo -- including death. Oh, it's not something that is ignored. It is not something I sign lightly and I can't say that my heart isn't gripped in absolute terror every time I sign this form, but I have found the alternative is not a road we can go down without trying, and by trying, we have to sign the form. As chemo/radiation becomes more intense and as many children are forced to try experimental test drugs, those risks become much greater. Recently, when this was reiterated, I was told a few people were "shocked and upset" by this news. Yes. It is shocking and it is upsetting. It should be. What I realized by this particular shock I was told about is that educating the public about pediatric cancer must be a top priority. I remember when HIV and AIDS was completely swept under the rug and people knew of it, but didn't educate. Now people know about it in so much more detail. What happens with pediatric cancer is that as adults, we don't want to think about what it is doing or can do to our babies. We don't want to know. We want to believe that a child's chances of beating it are at least as probable as an adult's, and sometimes it is. But, childhood cancer is an entirely different beast than adult cancer. These children are still growing. Cell division is different. The cancer is different. It is more persistent. Please world, see that this is not just nameless faces and children this cancer is attacking. Be shocked and be upset, and then continue to do something to battle it! Thank you.
Off my soapbox... Gideon receives Vincristine on Thursday and we start steroid week! Yes, there are chicken drumsticks in the fridge.
I think I'll end this blog with adorable anecdotes.
Story #1: Gideon asked if he could bring "SMART WATER" to bed with him instead of normal water. This is that water that comes in that loooooong shape, and, you guessed it (since you are so smart) it says "SMART WATER" on the side. I heard Gideon upstairs bragging about his special H2O. "Ask me anything," Gideon said with absolute confidence, "I am drinking Smart Water, and I will know the answer."
"Okay, what's 9 times 44?" Brody asked.
Then I heard, "Hold on, I need to take another few drinks... I don't think it's working yet."
(Adorable boy)
Story #2: This one Tom told me. He took Brody to the Skate Park downtown. There were a group of boys without skateboards sitting on the side. They began taunting Brody. Brody noticed that they didn't have boards, so he stood his ground. Instead of getting really upset, he invited them over to skateboard with him. Later he told me, "Those boys just were acting mean because they were sad they didn't have a board. I didn't get as many turns as I would if I didn't share, but I made new friends and they weren't mean anymore."
I want to be like Brody. Oh, to be six and to understand the beauty of sharing what he has with those without! He could have said, "NO WAY! I saved up my OWN money for this board and it is ALL mine!" (True story: he did save up every nickel and dime until he could buy it. He worked hard to earn that money, too.) But he didn't, and he knew what he did was the right thing to do. We should ALL be like Brody.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Grandpa Prayers
I was reading a book called _The Positive Dog_, and I realized I was doing it while eating cotton candy. The book was meant to be a gift, but now it is sticky from my cotton candy fingers. Should I still gift the book and say the stickiness is just a metaphor for happiness and I drenched it all over the pages? I think yes. I answered my own question. Also, maybe it is rude of me to read the books I buy as gifts, but I want to make sure it makes sense to gift them to people. Excuses, excuses, huh?
Well, I am glad I read this book because there is a WHOLE section about being BLESSED instead of STRESSED. It also uses actual data to back-up claims. It is physiologically impossible to feel thankful and stressed at the same time. It says, "Positivity doesn't change you; it changes everything around you." Prayer feeds the positivity and when it permeates in your soul and bubbles warmth, it is impossible to contain the bubbles and they spill over into life. That last cheesy part was from me. That was my way of summarizing, and it came out in a squiggle of Easy Cheese.
My point is, even though BOTH of Brody and Gideon's grandpas are facing challenges tonight, I am not going to stress. I will pray. I will feel blessed that they are both unharmed and I will continue to pray it stays that way.
Tom's dad, Grandpa Schripsema, is having quadruple by-pass surgery tomorrow morning. One blessing is that he did not have a heart attack in order to discover this need, it was a stress test that let the doctors know something was wrong. He goes in at 7:30 a.m., and when we visited him tonight, the boys brought grandpa a circus: a balloon and cotton candy (yes, I had some extra...as seen above...you caught me). Please send up special prayers for grandpa, and for the comfort of all of the family as they wait and wait for positive news.
Gideon and Brody chatted about Gideon's long stay in the same kind of room, and memories were shooting back and forth like crazy. I am happy Gideon wanted me to carry him to the car. All I could do was kiss his head and thank the Lord I was leaving with my baby in a much healthier place than that long visit.
My dad, Papa Krempa, is up north where there is a wildfire that doesn't want to stop burning. It is in Seney now, just down the road from where my dad lives. By "down the road" in U.P. terms, that is still about 10 miles away, but still. I guess if he is to evacuate, someone will alert them when they have thirty minutes to get out of the house. Please pray that the fire stays away from Papa and Grandma Max. Here is more information.
So, I am praying. I am being positive that both grandpas (and Grandma Max) will be safely guided through their struggles. Thank you for joining me.
Well, I am glad I read this book because there is a WHOLE section about being BLESSED instead of STRESSED. It also uses actual data to back-up claims. It is physiologically impossible to feel thankful and stressed at the same time. It says, "Positivity doesn't change you; it changes everything around you." Prayer feeds the positivity and when it permeates in your soul and bubbles warmth, it is impossible to contain the bubbles and they spill over into life. That last cheesy part was from me. That was my way of summarizing, and it came out in a squiggle of Easy Cheese.
My point is, even though BOTH of Brody and Gideon's grandpas are facing challenges tonight, I am not going to stress. I will pray. I will feel blessed that they are both unharmed and I will continue to pray it stays that way.
Tom's dad, Grandpa Schripsema, is having quadruple by-pass surgery tomorrow morning. One blessing is that he did not have a heart attack in order to discover this need, it was a stress test that let the doctors know something was wrong. He goes in at 7:30 a.m., and when we visited him tonight, the boys brought grandpa a circus: a balloon and cotton candy (yes, I had some extra...as seen above...you caught me). Please send up special prayers for grandpa, and for the comfort of all of the family as they wait and wait for positive news.
Gideon and Brody chatted about Gideon's long stay in the same kind of room, and memories were shooting back and forth like crazy. I am happy Gideon wanted me to carry him to the car. All I could do was kiss his head and thank the Lord I was leaving with my baby in a much healthier place than that long visit.
My dad, Papa Krempa, is up north where there is a wildfire that doesn't want to stop burning. It is in Seney now, just down the road from where my dad lives. By "down the road" in U.P. terms, that is still about 10 miles away, but still. I guess if he is to evacuate, someone will alert them when they have thirty minutes to get out of the house. Please pray that the fire stays away from Papa and Grandma Max. Here is more information.
So, I am praying. I am being positive that both grandpas (and Grandma Max) will be safely guided through their struggles. Thank you for joining me.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Shine On...
Wow. What a day. And it was wrapped up with me listening in on the brother banter going on upstairs. "Gideon, it's time you know the difference between tattling and telling with a purpose. Like if someone makes you bleed and you tell, that's telling with a purpose. But if you use that 'Maaaa-ooooom!' voice that goes up and down, you are probably about to tattle." Thank you, Ms. Williams, for being the sage Kindergarten teacher you are -- both of my boys are learning from you.
And now for some more thank yous: THANK YOU to my fellow CureSearch Committee members for making this year's CureSearch Walk a GINORMOUS success. Thank you to Lynn Ross for starting a Bronco Hockey Team (and to all of the Bronco hockey players who came), to my girl Dawn Marciniak for heading up the Edward Jones Team, and to the Mick family for leading the Mattawan team! To all of those who donated and came to support: THANK YOU! If you still would like to donate on behalf of Children's Cancer, there is still time (you KNEW I would throw that in there). Just click here and more funds will be allocated in finding cures for childhood cancer and in developing more child-friendly medicine.
The event itself raised over $53,000.00 and counting! It is still coming in, and I will post that total soon. I can't tell you how excited I was to see the Celery Flats just SWARMING with walkers. Watching those balloons sail into the sky, listening to the speakers, and just feeling that vibe of hope in the air -- I wanted to inhale it forever.
It's always sad to be introduced to so many new families, but we are a forced family who has one another's backs. Which reminds me, Mary Kay Pederson started a Facebook page called "Cancer Families United." If you are battling (or have battled in the past) childhood cancer and want to network with other southwest Michigan families, please join. We are a spunky group of moms with a lot of fire in our hearts due to our common dream. It is so great that we can be so candid and honest with one another. Plus, those ladies make me laugh and cry from their posts. I really, really, really wanna bust out a certain acronym right here, but I think only those ladies would laugh... heeheehee...
As wonderful as the event was, it was just as awful. There were definite holes this year where vibrant children stood last year, but are no longer with us. I felt God all around me today with the blue skies and the sun. I could feel the compassion and love radiate out of the crowd as the families who wanted to remember and honor their children stepped forward. God gave us souls. He gave us brains. We need to use both so that no more families have to step forward. So that no more babies are robbed. Remember that fire? It's still there. I won't give up.
There were those not there today because of loss, and there were others not there because they are deep-deep-deep in the trenches of battle with cancer, and couldn't come. I am thinking of you, Viking Princess Maren! We thought of you as we released our balloon, wishing and praying that you beat this thing!
I have to also mention another hero of mine, James Grubius. He stood next to my Gideon and said, "You are a SURVIVOR! You look like you are doing good." In true James fashion, he lifts everyone else up around him no matter how sick he might be or how much pain he is in right this second. And I was complaining about a headache this morning. These small cancer fighters are bigger people than I will ever be.
With that, I better stop. I'm starting to cry and then I just type-type-type without a filter. AGAIN: THANK YOU!
And now for some more thank yous: THANK YOU to my fellow CureSearch Committee members for making this year's CureSearch Walk a GINORMOUS success. Thank you to Lynn Ross for starting a Bronco Hockey Team (and to all of the Bronco hockey players who came), to my girl Dawn Marciniak for heading up the Edward Jones Team, and to the Mick family for leading the Mattawan team! To all of those who donated and came to support: THANK YOU! If you still would like to donate on behalf of Children's Cancer, there is still time (you KNEW I would throw that in there). Just click here and more funds will be allocated in finding cures for childhood cancer and in developing more child-friendly medicine.
The event itself raised over $53,000.00 and counting! It is still coming in, and I will post that total soon. I can't tell you how excited I was to see the Celery Flats just SWARMING with walkers. Watching those balloons sail into the sky, listening to the speakers, and just feeling that vibe of hope in the air -- I wanted to inhale it forever.
It's always sad to be introduced to so many new families, but we are a forced family who has one another's backs. Which reminds me, Mary Kay Pederson started a Facebook page called "Cancer Families United." If you are battling (or have battled in the past) childhood cancer and want to network with other southwest Michigan families, please join. We are a spunky group of moms with a lot of fire in our hearts due to our common dream. It is so great that we can be so candid and honest with one another. Plus, those ladies make me laugh and cry from their posts. I really, really, really wanna bust out a certain acronym right here, but I think only those ladies would laugh... heeheehee...
As wonderful as the event was, it was just as awful. There were definite holes this year where vibrant children stood last year, but are no longer with us. I felt God all around me today with the blue skies and the sun. I could feel the compassion and love radiate out of the crowd as the families who wanted to remember and honor their children stepped forward. God gave us souls. He gave us brains. We need to use both so that no more families have to step forward. So that no more babies are robbed. Remember that fire? It's still there. I won't give up.
There were those not there today because of loss, and there were others not there because they are deep-deep-deep in the trenches of battle with cancer, and couldn't come. I am thinking of you, Viking Princess Maren! We thought of you as we released our balloon, wishing and praying that you beat this thing!
I have to also mention another hero of mine, James Grubius. He stood next to my Gideon and said, "You are a SURVIVOR! You look like you are doing good." In true James fashion, he lifts everyone else up around him no matter how sick he might be or how much pain he is in right this second. And I was complaining about a headache this morning. These small cancer fighters are bigger people than I will ever be.
With that, I better stop. I'm starting to cry and then I just type-type-type without a filter. AGAIN: THANK YOU!
Monday, April 30, 2012
The post to read, please. Pretty please.
Thanks, Will Smith, for the idea of donating my birthday. I don't expect it to reap in millions (that would be nice), but if this gesture inspires one human reading this blog to donate money to CureSearch, I will feel like it was not in vain. So, here I go. I am donating my birthday in the hopes that you will feel moved to give. Two dollars? Five? Twenty-five? It's the gesture, and I will be head-over-heels thankful for whatever you are willing to give. It's the reality that as another birthday of mine easily goes by, another child is fighting for his life to make it to his next birthday. It's the fact that 98 cents of every dollar will go to childhood cancer research. What does CureSearch do? What has it been up to? This article made me sob with tears of joy. Read it. See for yourself what this incredible organization is doing.
So, what will I be doing on my May 1 birthday? I will be at the hospital at 8 a.m. with Gideon. He will be sedated and methotrexate will be administered into his spine. Here is a link to what that day is like for Gideon. What I hope, what I PRAY, is that someone out there will either donate money (no matter how small) or join our walking team that will be walking for a cure to Childhood Cancer on May 19. I know Gideon's battle has been going on for awhile. I know that it might not be new news anymore and interest may have left many hearts. The fact is this: while this might be old news to you, Gideon is still in the thick of the battle. So many of his friends are, as well. Please do not forget them. Instead of sending me birthday wishes or phone calls or emails, please click here and DONATE what you can. If it is a dollar, if it's fifty dollars...anything. Thank you for your continued prayers and love.
Also, tomorrow, MAY 1, there will be a Premier Jewelry Sale at Mattawan's Main Street Pub from 4:30 to 7:30 p.m. 100% of the proceeds will go to CureSearch. I can't think of a better place to buy your mom a Mother's Day present. On her box you can even write, "This gift is helping to find a cure to Childhood Cancer." I promise every mom will adore this sentiment! Thank you, Premier Jewelry and Main Street Pub for caring enough to host this event. People are wonderful, and I believe you are as well. Please continue to fight alongside Gideon until there is a CURE!
So, what will I be doing on my May 1 birthday? I will be at the hospital at 8 a.m. with Gideon. He will be sedated and methotrexate will be administered into his spine. Here is a link to what that day is like for Gideon. What I hope, what I PRAY, is that someone out there will either donate money (no matter how small) or join our walking team that will be walking for a cure to Childhood Cancer on May 19. I know Gideon's battle has been going on for awhile. I know that it might not be new news anymore and interest may have left many hearts. The fact is this: while this might be old news to you, Gideon is still in the thick of the battle. So many of his friends are, as well. Please do not forget them. Instead of sending me birthday wishes or phone calls or emails, please click here and DONATE what you can. If it is a dollar, if it's fifty dollars...anything. Thank you for your continued prayers and love.
Also, tomorrow, MAY 1, there will be a Premier Jewelry Sale at Mattawan's Main Street Pub from 4:30 to 7:30 p.m. 100% of the proceeds will go to CureSearch. I can't think of a better place to buy your mom a Mother's Day present. On her box you can even write, "This gift is helping to find a cure to Childhood Cancer." I promise every mom will adore this sentiment! Thank you, Premier Jewelry and Main Street Pub for caring enough to host this event. People are wonderful, and I believe you are as well. Please continue to fight alongside Gideon until there is a CURE!
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Hellooooooooo
Wow.
I feel like I need to introduce myself again and shyly ease into conversation in a very how-is-the-weather kind of a way. I need to get reacquainted. This box I am typing in is even different. There were some Blogger renovations and I never even noticed one orange cone, that's how long I've been away. Let's remedy that.
For once, I am going to need to be very to-the-point or Gideon's blog will turn into the War and Peace of all blogs. Okay. Here it is:
- My boys have taken turns being seriously ill on and off until now (praying and looking to heaven that I don't eat my words). Brody had Scarlet Fever. Yes, you read that right. I felt like I needed to light an oil lamp, put my hair in braids, and say things like, "I'll be there directly, Brody" with hardened lines creased on my forehead in concern as I climb a rickety ladder to his hay-strewn loft. So much for being to-the-point. Anyway, Brody did beat the 18th century disease. He battled a few more strep throat incidents, but the Justin Bieber toothbrush has been boiled and I think we've killed all of that nastiness (another hopeful glance to heaven).
- I need to insert a bullet here to say, as much as I was kidding around above, my soul is massaged to the point of bliss in realizing how lucky I am. How blessed we all are. Not long ago, I would have lost BOTH of my boys. Scarlet Fever was no joke. Cancer never was, either. And allll because of modern medicine, my babies are still here. How did the mommies of long ago do it? The same way the third world mommies are still doing it, and I promise they love their babies as much as I love mine. This makes me want to join the Peace Corp. I'm not kidding. But my mission is here. Once childhood cancer has a cure, I think I may have found another calling.
- Gideon had ONE day when he just didn't want to go to clinic. He was bumming and sad. My baby sister sent me the music video below, so the boys and I had been watching it NONSTOP. I told Gideon we would go into the clinic singing "our parts" and acting like our corresponding alien. Gideon wanted to be the red-guitar-singing hopping one. I was the orange and armless one. We reenacted the video in the parking garage and he walked into those doors with a HUGE goofy smile. I wrote to the creator of the video (and also the composer of the song) as a thank you. He sent us an email back wishing Gideon a speedy recovery, telling us about his most recent musical work, and promising to keep in touch. Also, he doodled the below picture for our little Warrior. I love creative geniuses who also have gigantic hearts.
- The boys are doing very well. They are both playing soccer. Brody is also playing more hockey. Gideon is REGISTERED for kindergarten. Also, I have a super-de-duper important blog coming before May 1. Please keep your eyes open for it.
THANK YOU for those continued prayers and well-wishes. I won't be a stranger for so long next time.
I feel like I need to introduce myself again and shyly ease into conversation in a very how-is-the-weather kind of a way. I need to get reacquainted. This box I am typing in is even different. There were some Blogger renovations and I never even noticed one orange cone, that's how long I've been away. Let's remedy that.
For once, I am going to need to be very to-the-point or Gideon's blog will turn into the War and Peace of all blogs. Okay. Here it is:
- My boys have taken turns being seriously ill on and off until now (praying and looking to heaven that I don't eat my words). Brody had Scarlet Fever. Yes, you read that right. I felt like I needed to light an oil lamp, put my hair in braids, and say things like, "I'll be there directly, Brody" with hardened lines creased on my forehead in concern as I climb a rickety ladder to his hay-strewn loft. So much for being to-the-point. Anyway, Brody did beat the 18th century disease. He battled a few more strep throat incidents, but the Justin Bieber toothbrush has been boiled and I think we've killed all of that nastiness (another hopeful glance to heaven).
- I need to insert a bullet here to say, as much as I was kidding around above, my soul is massaged to the point of bliss in realizing how lucky I am. How blessed we all are. Not long ago, I would have lost BOTH of my boys. Scarlet Fever was no joke. Cancer never was, either. And allll because of modern medicine, my babies are still here. How did the mommies of long ago do it? The same way the third world mommies are still doing it, and I promise they love their babies as much as I love mine. This makes me want to join the Peace Corp. I'm not kidding. But my mission is here. Once childhood cancer has a cure, I think I may have found another calling.
- Gideon had ONE day when he just didn't want to go to clinic. He was bumming and sad. My baby sister sent me the music video below, so the boys and I had been watching it NONSTOP. I told Gideon we would go into the clinic singing "our parts" and acting like our corresponding alien. Gideon wanted to be the red-guitar-singing hopping one. I was the orange and armless one. We reenacted the video in the parking garage and he walked into those doors with a HUGE goofy smile. I wrote to the creator of the video (and also the composer of the song) as a thank you. He sent us an email back wishing Gideon a speedy recovery, telling us about his most recent musical work, and promising to keep in touch. Also, he doodled the below picture for our little Warrior. I love creative geniuses who also have gigantic hearts.
Professor Soap - Spirit Quest Journey from Professor Soap on Vimeo.
- The boys are doing very well. They are both playing soccer. Brody is also playing more hockey. Gideon is REGISTERED for kindergarten. Also, I have a super-de-duper important blog coming before May 1. Please keep your eyes open for it.
THANK YOU for those continued prayers and well-wishes. I won't be a stranger for so long next time.
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