Yes, it's been a month since the last time I blogged. That doesn't mean that I haven't had anything to say. It just means that I haven't said what I wanted to say.
Today, my friends, I am done being quiet.
My daughter Madi is beautiful. She is generous with hugs and smiles, and funny to the very core. She is imaginative, a dreamer, and a miracle. She is also a child with some very difficult behavior.
Of late, I have been at my wits' end just about every single day by the time the afternoon strikes. Madi is moving into a stage in life where she is not listening to me, and where discipline is very ineffective. She prefers bullying her sister and the cat to her toys, and likes to destroy things regardless of the owner. It's beyond your average sibling rivalry, though.
See, here's where it gets hard. Madi had a stroke in 2008. Actually, it was a series of small strokes. From the neurological standpoint, she has a few areas of brain damage in the areas of the brain that control cognition and impulse control. All members of Madi's medical/therapeutic team are very optimistic that over time, since she is so young, the brain will rewire/heal itself. In the meantime, though, there are some very real roadblocks to her development that we have to get around.
How exactly do you correct inappropriate behavior with a child that doesn't understand the concept of discipline and really could care less if she gets punished? I am still trying to figure it out. Got any good ideas? (We have done all the traditional punishments, to no avail.)
One thing I do not need, however, is criticism. I can't take it anymore. Believe me, I beat myself up day in and day out that I am failing somehow at motherhood. When I get notes home from the teacher saying that Madi's new behavior is throwing herself on the floor when she doesn't feel like doing something, it's frustrating. I feel as though somehow it's my fault. It doesn't help me to hear that I am not doing things the "right" way.
I cannot stress enough to people in my life that Madi IS different. I don't care if you have raised one child or twenty; if none of them had any kind of significant medical history and/or developmental issues, then you cannot compare your parenting experience to mine. Yes, Madi has made some HUGE gains over the past two years since her transplant. She has a fantastic team of people that are in our lives solely to make Madi's life that much better, and I am so grateful for them and their hard work. But she is still not the same as the "average" 5-year old. There are many challenges that come with behavior when you have a child whose brain is damaged in the very area that controls how and if she comprehends and processes something. It's kind of like a sieve, I think. A very ineffective sieve at that. Things you would never ever think she would comprehend, she does. And things that "should" be basic knowledge may as well be Sanskrit to her. Every day is an adventure in learning here in our household. What worked yesterday, or even five minutes ago, probably won't work at this moment. So I continue to improvise and stretch my creative muscles to the limit.
It's my hope that someday Madi will look back on her childhood and remember that I was always here for her, fighting for her (and with her, to be honest!) about how she can live the best life possible.
All I want for her is to live her life and be a happy, honest and kind person. I really don't think that's so much to ask.
If that means that I have to yell at her and put her in timeout 30 times a day for bothering the cat yet again, I guess that's what I have to do. (Sidenote: I don't see why timeouts are so awful for most kids. Doesn't a break from it all for a few minutes, totally undisturbed, sound fantastic? I want a timeout!)
But please, don't tell me I am doing it wrong. If I was, she wouldn't be the kid she is today. And the kid she is today is pretty damn terrific, if I do say so myself.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Overindulgence-The American Way?
I feel like I might just barf.
I heard on the radio today that Kim Kardashian is getting married this weekend. Whoop-dee-friggin-do. Get this: her wedding is setting them back $20 MILLION! Yes, you read that right. Twenty. Million. Dollars. For a wedding.
I do not give a crap who you are, or what your claim to fame may be (What IS Kim's claim to fame, anyway? Having a huge butt? Big deal, so do I!)-that's a bit much.
There are so many people who are hungry, hurt, and in need. Here in the United States as well as around the world. There's famine in Africa.. people are walking for weeks to try to find food for their children, and many of them do not make it. Or what about the orphans? I have a wonderful friend who is in the process of bringing their beautiful boy, Ethan, home from Eastern Europe. (See earlier blog posts for more on this awesome journey!) Where Ethan is from, orphans are treated worse than cattle. These children are literally tied to their beds! Their bodies are atrophied and twisted. They have never known the warmth of a soft bed, being forced instead to sleep in Soviet-era metal cribs with thin, hard mattresses. They have no toys. Most of them do not get out of bed. Ever. They are in desperate need of a loving home. A family. Hugs and kisses. Medical care. School. Toys. Basic human needs. One of the posts on a friend's site mentions an eleven year old girl who weighs 10 pounds!!! Only ten. And another little girl's arm measures three inches in diameter. Take out a measuring tape. Check out how very small that is. And these are not extreme cases. Well, they are, but not in the sense that they can be considered abnormal. Where these kiddos are, this IS the norm. Some of the photos of the children that are in these Eastern European orphanages remind me of photos from concentration camps. It's sickening. Heart-breaking. Utterly and terribly wrong.
So, if Kim Kardashian were listening right now (or any of the other countless "celebrities" who flaunt their money like no one's business) I would tell her this: Shame on you. Spending that kind of money on a one day event when there are children dying everywhere. Kids who need love and support.
While you feast on your wedding day, there is a child taking their last breath while tied to a metal crib no better than a cage. They don't have to die. Imagine how many people that twenty million could help.
What's the real crime against humanity here?
I heard on the radio today that Kim Kardashian is getting married this weekend. Whoop-dee-friggin-do. Get this: her wedding is setting them back $20 MILLION! Yes, you read that right. Twenty. Million. Dollars. For a wedding.
I do not give a crap who you are, or what your claim to fame may be (What IS Kim's claim to fame, anyway? Having a huge butt? Big deal, so do I!)-that's a bit much.
There are so many people who are hungry, hurt, and in need. Here in the United States as well as around the world. There's famine in Africa.. people are walking for weeks to try to find food for their children, and many of them do not make it. Or what about the orphans? I have a wonderful friend who is in the process of bringing their beautiful boy, Ethan, home from Eastern Europe. (See earlier blog posts for more on this awesome journey!) Where Ethan is from, orphans are treated worse than cattle. These children are literally tied to their beds! Their bodies are atrophied and twisted. They have never known the warmth of a soft bed, being forced instead to sleep in Soviet-era metal cribs with thin, hard mattresses. They have no toys. Most of them do not get out of bed. Ever. They are in desperate need of a loving home. A family. Hugs and kisses. Medical care. School. Toys. Basic human needs. One of the posts on a friend's site mentions an eleven year old girl who weighs 10 pounds!!! Only ten. And another little girl's arm measures three inches in diameter. Take out a measuring tape. Check out how very small that is. And these are not extreme cases. Well, they are, but not in the sense that they can be considered abnormal. Where these kiddos are, this IS the norm. Some of the photos of the children that are in these Eastern European orphanages remind me of photos from concentration camps. It's sickening. Heart-breaking. Utterly and terribly wrong.
So, if Kim Kardashian were listening right now (or any of the other countless "celebrities" who flaunt their money like no one's business) I would tell her this: Shame on you. Spending that kind of money on a one day event when there are children dying everywhere. Kids who need love and support.
While you feast on your wedding day, there is a child taking their last breath while tied to a metal crib no better than a cage. They don't have to die. Imagine how many people that twenty million could help.
What's the real crime against humanity here?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Where did I put my straight jacket?
It's been a rough week in my household.
For starters, I am pretty sure that I have a cyst on one ovary, which is making everyday life quite a bit more painful than anyone would like.
You know how animals can sense when you aren't feeling well, and they seem to go out of their way to try to comfort you? I think my kids sense it, too. Only they are doing their best, it seems, to put me in a mental ward before the week is out. In fact, the thought seems pretty nice right about now. Soft padded rooms, nice sleepytime meds..ahem. Sorry. Back to what I was saying.
Besides filling my days with the normal wife/mommy stuff, the kids have been into all sorts of mischief. Mostly Madi, though. I am not sure why all of a sudden she has decided to act in this manner. I know, I know, ALL kids have bratty streaks. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
Here's just an example. Yesterday Madi decided to take the poop out of her diaper and smear it all over the place in her room. All in the amount of time it took me to go to the bathroom myself. She made sure to get it ground into the carpeting really nicely, too. After cleaning that mess up (and let me tell you, Resolve carpet cleaner mixed with feces makes for a vomit-inducing scent) Madi decided that she was going to beat on her sister and the cat for the rest of the afternoon. She was in time out at least 5 more times. And this was all between 4 and 6 in the evening. She pulls hair, she slaps, she kicks, she pushes, and she takes stuff away. No disciplinary method has worked thus far. I know that the part of her brain that controls decision making and impulse control was damaged with her strokes, but I know she knows right from wrong. Not to mention that none of her team thinks that the amount of damage done is permanent. I am at my wits end with her. I love her SO much, and it makes me so angry, sad and frustrated that she acts this way. What am I doing wrong? If this goes on much longer, I may need one of those "special" jackets.. you know, the ones where you hug yourself?
I feel like a parent failure a lot these days.
I am so afraid for what school will bring.. I don't want to be the parent of "THAT kid"; you know, the one no one wants to play with or be around? But yet I fear that's what will happen.
Tomorrow we will be heading for the Mayo Clinic for yet another checkup. I will be happy for the reprieve, as Sydney will be at a relative's house and the cat will be at home of course. Madi will be happily strapped into her carseat, where she cannot be mean to anyone or destroy anything.
Ninety-five miles there, ninety-five miles home. Seems like a perfect time to restore my inner peace.
And thank the Good Lord above for in-car DVD players.
For starters, I am pretty sure that I have a cyst on one ovary, which is making everyday life quite a bit more painful than anyone would like.
You know how animals can sense when you aren't feeling well, and they seem to go out of their way to try to comfort you? I think my kids sense it, too. Only they are doing their best, it seems, to put me in a mental ward before the week is out. In fact, the thought seems pretty nice right about now. Soft padded rooms, nice sleepytime meds..ahem. Sorry. Back to what I was saying.
Besides filling my days with the normal wife/mommy stuff, the kids have been into all sorts of mischief. Mostly Madi, though. I am not sure why all of a sudden she has decided to act in this manner. I know, I know, ALL kids have bratty streaks. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it.
Here's just an example. Yesterday Madi decided to take the poop out of her diaper and smear it all over the place in her room. All in the amount of time it took me to go to the bathroom myself. She made sure to get it ground into the carpeting really nicely, too. After cleaning that mess up (and let me tell you, Resolve carpet cleaner mixed with feces makes for a vomit-inducing scent) Madi decided that she was going to beat on her sister and the cat for the rest of the afternoon. She was in time out at least 5 more times. And this was all between 4 and 6 in the evening. She pulls hair, she slaps, she kicks, she pushes, and she takes stuff away. No disciplinary method has worked thus far. I know that the part of her brain that controls decision making and impulse control was damaged with her strokes, but I know she knows right from wrong. Not to mention that none of her team thinks that the amount of damage done is permanent. I am at my wits end with her. I love her SO much, and it makes me so angry, sad and frustrated that she acts this way. What am I doing wrong? If this goes on much longer, I may need one of those "special" jackets.. you know, the ones where you hug yourself?
I feel like a parent failure a lot these days.
I am so afraid for what school will bring.. I don't want to be the parent of "THAT kid"; you know, the one no one wants to play with or be around? But yet I fear that's what will happen.
Tomorrow we will be heading for the Mayo Clinic for yet another checkup. I will be happy for the reprieve, as Sydney will be at a relative's house and the cat will be at home of course. Madi will be happily strapped into her carseat, where she cannot be mean to anyone or destroy anything.
Ninety-five miles there, ninety-five miles home. Seems like a perfect time to restore my inner peace.
And thank the Good Lord above for in-car DVD players.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Two Years
Two years. Maybe two years doesn't seem like such a long time. But two years=730 days=17,531 hours or so. Now it seems like quite a bit, doesn't it?
Why am I obsessing about two years? Well, two years ago today, we loaded Madi up into a LifeLink ambulance that took her to the Mayo Clinic. We were "supposed" to be going down there to wean Madi off of her heart meds, while completing her transplant evaluation. It was our hope that she would be able to be extubated within the week or so. We missed her voice, her smile, her eyes. It had been so long at that point since Madi had been herself.
Little did we know that 18 hours after her status was bumped up to 1A on the transplant list, Madi would get her new heart. At the time we were so turned around with everything going on in our lives. It was literally like someone ripped the rug out from underneath us. I could not even think straight, and I was full of doubts about whether we had made the right decisions regarding her care. I think if your child is battling something that is exceedingly difficult, a parent cannot help but have doubts, guilt and questions on top of the usual fear.
Thankfully, we did make the right decisions. And in the two years' time since that ambulance ride, I have learned a lot. Most importantly I have learned that it's about the little things in life.
This afternoon, my kids and I laid on the living room floor. We read books and sang songs. We played with the shape sorter and Madi "made" Sydney and I some pasta with her dishes. (She also made cat food, she said, but that obviously was not for us.) Then both of my girls flung themselves at me and bounced on me. It was like they had coordinated that moment to wrestle with their mom.
As the nosepieces on my glasses slammed into my eyeballs (Madi tried to sit on my head), I found myself thinking "Two years ago, I would've given anything for this."
Another family looked past their grief and through their tears to give my daughter a second chance. So when I think of those moments two years ago, I think of our donor family too. They gave so much to my family. On every one of those 730 days over the past two years, I think of them.
And hope they know how much I love them.
Why am I obsessing about two years? Well, two years ago today, we loaded Madi up into a LifeLink ambulance that took her to the Mayo Clinic. We were "supposed" to be going down there to wean Madi off of her heart meds, while completing her transplant evaluation. It was our hope that she would be able to be extubated within the week or so. We missed her voice, her smile, her eyes. It had been so long at that point since Madi had been herself.
Little did we know that 18 hours after her status was bumped up to 1A on the transplant list, Madi would get her new heart. At the time we were so turned around with everything going on in our lives. It was literally like someone ripped the rug out from underneath us. I could not even think straight, and I was full of doubts about whether we had made the right decisions regarding her care. I think if your child is battling something that is exceedingly difficult, a parent cannot help but have doubts, guilt and questions on top of the usual fear.
Thankfully, we did make the right decisions. And in the two years' time since that ambulance ride, I have learned a lot. Most importantly I have learned that it's about the little things in life.
This afternoon, my kids and I laid on the living room floor. We read books and sang songs. We played with the shape sorter and Madi "made" Sydney and I some pasta with her dishes. (She also made cat food, she said, but that obviously was not for us.) Then both of my girls flung themselves at me and bounced on me. It was like they had coordinated that moment to wrestle with their mom.
As the nosepieces on my glasses slammed into my eyeballs (Madi tried to sit on my head), I found myself thinking "Two years ago, I would've given anything for this."
Another family looked past their grief and through their tears to give my daughter a second chance. So when I think of those moments two years ago, I think of our donor family too. They gave so much to my family. On every one of those 730 days over the past two years, I think of them.
And hope they know how much I love them.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Let's help bring Ethan home!
Yesterday's post was on friends. Today I am going to post about a specific friend who is embarking on the adventure of a lifetime!
We met the Lindquist family when Madi was in the PICU in July of 2009, right before her transplant. Even though their daughter, Sophina, was struggling with her own issues post-surgery, they were always there for us when we needed them. Connie would stop by at least once a day with a hug for me, and they would lift my spirits SO much. It was my first experience with a fellow heart parent. The first time I really remember saying "Oh, she gets it. I mean really really gets it." What a blessing!
As if Connie wasn't busy enough with her girls at home-Elizabeth, Alexandra, Catherine, Victoria and Sophina-she and her husband Scott (currently working a whole state away to help his family!) have heard the Lord's call to help the orphans of the world. Their son, Ethan, will be joining their family from Eastern Europe as soon as his adoption is finalized. Click here to meet Ethan!
First of all: how handsome is this young man? I am so happy for Ethan, and for the Lindquists. The conditions in Eastern Europe are dismal at best for kids with disabilities like Ethan's. It would seriously make you sick to hear about how these beautiful, bright, sweet children are treated. Here's where it gets even harder to stomach: it is unfathomably expensive to bring these children home. Connie and her family are willing to drain their savings account and exhaust every last dime they can to bring Ethan to them. (All the Lindquist girls are more excited than you could possibly imagine as well, in case you were wondering!) So why do they want to do this? Well, read this post from Connie on her blog, Obeying God's Call to hear it directly from her. And if you aren't moved by this family, you can't be moved by anything.
The Lindquists are currently fundraising in a very very special way. They are going to take their familys' old clothes, cut them up, and sew them into a quilt for Ethan. Here's where it gets really good: for every $20 donated, they will sew YOUR NAME onto this quilt! That way Ethan will know how many people came together to bring his family together. (Ethan's Quilt Fundraiser)
Can you spare $20 to save an orphan's life? I know you can. If you can spare more, that's awesome of course, too! Please visit the Lindquist family's blog to read about this very special family and their quest to obey God's call. Let's get their adoption grant to skyrocket, and bring Ethan home!
"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."- Anne Frank
We met the Lindquist family when Madi was in the PICU in July of 2009, right before her transplant. Even though their daughter, Sophina, was struggling with her own issues post-surgery, they were always there for us when we needed them. Connie would stop by at least once a day with a hug for me, and they would lift my spirits SO much. It was my first experience with a fellow heart parent. The first time I really remember saying "Oh, she gets it. I mean really really gets it." What a blessing!
As if Connie wasn't busy enough with her girls at home-Elizabeth, Alexandra, Catherine, Victoria and Sophina-she and her husband Scott (currently working a whole state away to help his family!) have heard the Lord's call to help the orphans of the world. Their son, Ethan, will be joining their family from Eastern Europe as soon as his adoption is finalized. Click here to meet Ethan!
First of all: how handsome is this young man? I am so happy for Ethan, and for the Lindquists. The conditions in Eastern Europe are dismal at best for kids with disabilities like Ethan's. It would seriously make you sick to hear about how these beautiful, bright, sweet children are treated. Here's where it gets even harder to stomach: it is unfathomably expensive to bring these children home. Connie and her family are willing to drain their savings account and exhaust every last dime they can to bring Ethan to them. (All the Lindquist girls are more excited than you could possibly imagine as well, in case you were wondering!) So why do they want to do this? Well, read this post from Connie on her blog, Obeying God's Call to hear it directly from her. And if you aren't moved by this family, you can't be moved by anything.
The Lindquists are currently fundraising in a very very special way. They are going to take their familys' old clothes, cut them up, and sew them into a quilt for Ethan. Here's where it gets really good: for every $20 donated, they will sew YOUR NAME onto this quilt! That way Ethan will know how many people came together to bring his family together. (Ethan's Quilt Fundraiser)
Can you spare $20 to save an orphan's life? I know you can. If you can spare more, that's awesome of course, too! Please visit the Lindquist family's blog to read about this very special family and their quest to obey God's call. Let's get their adoption grant to skyrocket, and bring Ethan home!
"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world."- Anne Frank
Sunday, July 31, 2011
My Friends..
You know what? I have some AWESOME friends.
They may not be the friends I had before I had kids. They may not even be the same friends that were around a lot before Madi got sick. But I have to say, they are all in my life for a reason. And the ones that aren't anymore? Also for a reason.
Some of them I do not even know in "real" life, but only through the world of Facebook. And that's ok. Because honestly, these people are there for me by the dozens, and I do not know where I would be without their support. I love receiving text messages from my heart mamas, asking how Madi's eating is today, or how my kids' therapy sessions went. I love to get pics of their kiddos, just enjoying life. I am thrilled to share in their families' successes, and I cry with them when life gets them down. They are there for me whenever I need-even if it's three in the morning. And I am more than willing to return that favor.
Then there are the ones that I know in person, that are still fully present in my life through thick and thin. It means so much to me to have people that are on my side. To get "happy mail" from them, collaborate on CHD projects, share recipes, and meet up for lunch or the aquarium or what have you. Having someone around that understands is priceless. What is even more priceless to me, though, is the people that are willing to jump into this crazy life of mine knowing full well what it entails. The friends who care enough to want to learn about the CHD world even if they are not in it. The ones who rally for support and awareness for things that mean a lot to me. The ones who are willing to share a plate of cheesy fries or a margarita and molten lava cake at a restaurant at 10 at night, since that's the only time I can get away. The ones who take their own talents and use them to make things that further CHD Awareness and education.
If you are reading this right now, chances are you are one of those friends. I hope you know how much you mean to me. Your love, support, prayers, and laughter are immeasurably valuable to me.
In other words, I LOVE YOU GUYS!
They may not be the friends I had before I had kids. They may not even be the same friends that were around a lot before Madi got sick. But I have to say, they are all in my life for a reason. And the ones that aren't anymore? Also for a reason.
Some of them I do not even know in "real" life, but only through the world of Facebook. And that's ok. Because honestly, these people are there for me by the dozens, and I do not know where I would be without their support. I love receiving text messages from my heart mamas, asking how Madi's eating is today, or how my kids' therapy sessions went. I love to get pics of their kiddos, just enjoying life. I am thrilled to share in their families' successes, and I cry with them when life gets them down. They are there for me whenever I need-even if it's three in the morning. And I am more than willing to return that favor.
Then there are the ones that I know in person, that are still fully present in my life through thick and thin. It means so much to me to have people that are on my side. To get "happy mail" from them, collaborate on CHD projects, share recipes, and meet up for lunch or the aquarium or what have you. Having someone around that understands is priceless. What is even more priceless to me, though, is the people that are willing to jump into this crazy life of mine knowing full well what it entails. The friends who care enough to want to learn about the CHD world even if they are not in it. The ones who rally for support and awareness for things that mean a lot to me. The ones who are willing to share a plate of cheesy fries or a margarita and molten lava cake at a restaurant at 10 at night, since that's the only time I can get away. The ones who take their own talents and use them to make things that further CHD Awareness and education.
If you are reading this right now, chances are you are one of those friends. I hope you know how much you mean to me. Your love, support, prayers, and laughter are immeasurably valuable to me.
In other words, I LOVE YOU GUYS!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Making choices
Amy Winehouse passed away yesterday at the young age of 27. It is assumed that she died of an overdose. When the news got out I posted that it was a shame, but I was not shocked.
Who would have ever thought it would start so much controversy?
It has come to light that in making the statement that I was not surprised that she died, apparently I am being judgmental and disrespectful to the dead and her family and friends. That was not my intent at all. It was mentioned that as someone who has been in the CHD world, I should know better, and I should not say things like that.
It's not the same. Not at all. My daughter, and the countless others who have battled a heart defect, did not choose this. They did not ask for their vital organs to give out on them. They did nothing that would bring on such an awful rollercoaster of medications, doctors' visits, operations, and the like.
People who drink and do drugs have a choice. For whatever reason, they pick up the bottle/needle/pipe/pills and subject their body to poison. Maybe it's heartless of me to say so, but I really have a hard time feeling bad for addicts. I pray for them. I hope they find healing. I have cried as my own friend was laid to rest at 16 years old after a night of horrible decisions. But I don't feel bad, per se. I don't care what the excuse is. What you are running from, who pressured you to do it. There really is no reason on Earth to even start. There are plenty of people in this world who have faced horrible, awful, dysfunctional, dangerous lives and didn't turn to substances to try to fill the void. My husband's early childhood was terrible. Some of the things that happened to him would make you sick to your stomach. But he simply chose to use that as a foundation to be better than that.
Amy Winehouse was someone's daughter. She was someone's love, someone's friend. A phenomenally talented artist gone way too soon. We don't know what demons she lived with, and where her mind was or was not. But at the end of the day, she was an addict. Just like my friend who died 11 years ago. The hurt he left behind for so many will never go away.
I pray that Amy is at peace now with the Lord. That she has found solace and comfort, and is free from whatever haunted her during her short life on Earth.
But please, don't ever tell me that it's like what CHD families go through when they lose a child. Alcoholism and drug addiction is not something you are born with. It's something terrible. It's sad. It takes too many lives way too soon. And maybe the reason why it does is so that God can relieve them of their pain in the only way that He knows will truly work. I don't know, I am but one person and cannot delve into the reasoning of the world. But one thing I do know for sure: when you live the drug and alcohol lifestyle to the fullest, you really can't be surprised when it comes back around on you and those you love with brutal and unforgiving force. The saddest part is that when drugs and alcohol take over, the mind becomes too clouded to realize it.
Who would have ever thought it would start so much controversy?
It has come to light that in making the statement that I was not surprised that she died, apparently I am being judgmental and disrespectful to the dead and her family and friends. That was not my intent at all. It was mentioned that as someone who has been in the CHD world, I should know better, and I should not say things like that.
It's not the same. Not at all. My daughter, and the countless others who have battled a heart defect, did not choose this. They did not ask for their vital organs to give out on them. They did nothing that would bring on such an awful rollercoaster of medications, doctors' visits, operations, and the like.
People who drink and do drugs have a choice. For whatever reason, they pick up the bottle/needle/pipe/pills and subject their body to poison. Maybe it's heartless of me to say so, but I really have a hard time feeling bad for addicts. I pray for them. I hope they find healing. I have cried as my own friend was laid to rest at 16 years old after a night of horrible decisions. But I don't feel bad, per se. I don't care what the excuse is. What you are running from, who pressured you to do it. There really is no reason on Earth to even start. There are plenty of people in this world who have faced horrible, awful, dysfunctional, dangerous lives and didn't turn to substances to try to fill the void. My husband's early childhood was terrible. Some of the things that happened to him would make you sick to your stomach. But he simply chose to use that as a foundation to be better than that.
Amy Winehouse was someone's daughter. She was someone's love, someone's friend. A phenomenally talented artist gone way too soon. We don't know what demons she lived with, and where her mind was or was not. But at the end of the day, she was an addict. Just like my friend who died 11 years ago. The hurt he left behind for so many will never go away.
I pray that Amy is at peace now with the Lord. That she has found solace and comfort, and is free from whatever haunted her during her short life on Earth.
But please, don't ever tell me that it's like what CHD families go through when they lose a child. Alcoholism and drug addiction is not something you are born with. It's something terrible. It's sad. It takes too many lives way too soon. And maybe the reason why it does is so that God can relieve them of their pain in the only way that He knows will truly work. I don't know, I am but one person and cannot delve into the reasoning of the world. But one thing I do know for sure: when you live the drug and alcohol lifestyle to the fullest, you really can't be surprised when it comes back around on you and those you love with brutal and unforgiving force. The saddest part is that when drugs and alcohol take over, the mind becomes too clouded to realize it.
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