Food Allergy Momma

Sometimes I feel like I should be sitting in one of those circles where I stand up and give my name and name the addiction that has me. TV and movies glamorize and bring humor to subjects that are still somewhat taboo to admit or acknowledge, such as alcohol or overeating. And honestly, my list / addiction / problem would be long. 

"Hello, my name is Angie and I am an over-thinker, anxiety-ridden, easily stressed, workaholic, multifunctional, grief trauma-filled, food allergy momma."

I can admit it, now I just need to work on it. I need to bring the positives out of the negatives and find beauty in the ugliness that is in my foresight. The ugliness that I plan for without even giving beauty a chance to be imagined in my mind.

I receive a birthday party invitation and my mind immediately flashes to images of my son hooked up to EKG's, or his little body full of hives as he looks at me with his pleading eyes for help. 

I see holidays come up on the schedule and I spend nights searching Pinterest for recipes of things I can make that everyone would enjoy that are also easy to manipulate to make safe. 

I open a backpack to find a letter from school about a food activity and wonder how he and I can both play hooky that day.

I get on social media and see families on these beautiful vacations and remember I love to travel. I think about how we should take our children places. But then my mind starts picturing the extra luggage to pack food and calls ahead to restaurants and hotels to make sure we can have a microwave in our room. I have to make sure there is a refrigerator that is not the itty-bitty mini ones that are usually present.

People can try to encourage me and look out for us...but as a mother, it is something I have to do myself. I had a time when something I should have done as a mother was not done by me and I am still haunted by that. I talk about it in therapy. I have not healed from it. I may never heal from it, mostly because the situation of loosing a child is something I never wanted to experience and a pain that ironically, I never want to forget.  

So walk with me, see that I cannot have a normal day or go on a normal outing / vacation. But it isn't just me that is effected, and it isn't just Jonah either. Our whole family lives this journey. And it is, a journey. It is a long road with lots of twists and turns. Lots of ups and downs. But also a journey full of love and care. A journey full of strength and wisdom. We learn a lot, we read labels, we wipe tables and chais, we wash hands more than normal, we carry emergency medications, we leave instructions, we prep and cook more, and most importantly we pray. And we have a whole lot of fun, even with our limitations!

Meal Planning with Food Allergies (FA's)

     I have more of a Type A personality. I need things to be planned and in order. This means that I plan out our dinner menu for the week and base our grocery shopping off of it. It is not always perfect, and it does not always work out, but it helps us be more prepared and stills my anxiety levels.

    And, because now between our 3 kids, we have activities EVERY night, Monday through Friday, we eat around 4-4:30pm. So, I have planned out meals for the next month, which simplifies my weekly grocery list and wraps my head around what is going on, with constant reminders of where to be and when so that we are hopefully on time at the correct location!

    So, let me introduce you to our menu this week, and note that everything is dairy free (DF) or will have a DF version to coordinate for Jonah's food allergies. He is also allergic to cashews, so we avoid those type of tree nuts from entering our house completely. Dairy is more difficult with 2 other children and I love having a glass of milk with my dinner. Also, I do not like the taste of vegan cheese, so I will use dairy cheese for the rest of the family. 

Saturday: Spaghetti - we use Kroger spaghetti and Barilla sauce. I mix the sauce with browned ground beef and we add a few spices/seasonings. We have Texas Toast, so for Jonah we toast plain bread, add vegan butter and sprinkle with garlic powder or salt. And, we have found a DF grated Parmesan "cheese" that we sprinkle on his. 

Sunday: Tortilla Chip & Pepper Jack Crusted Chicken - I will separate and cook in separate dishes, 1 DF and 1 regular. I will use Daiya cheese for the DF dish. I will also make my own DF buttermilk. And, I have a 'recipe' for ranch packets so that it will be completely safe.

The yellow plate is the DF, the blue is Dairy.

Monday: French Toast Casserole - This one is just making sure to find a bread loaf that is DF and not produced on the same line as milk or tree nuts

Tuesday: Copy Cat Recipe of P.F. Changs Lettuce Wraps

Wednesday: Disappearing Chicken Casserole - Same thing as Sunday, separate the DF cheese dish from the dairy cheese dish

Small white dish is DF, other dish is dairy, but I did use DF sour cream, cream cheese, and mayo

Thursday: Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Breakfast Rollups - Jonah's will have Daiya DF cheddar slices and I will cook them on a separate baking tray.

Friday: Red 7 Pizza - They can make a vegan cheese, non-cross contamination pizza for Jonah!

I will try to remember to add pictures after I make the dishes this week. 

Anxiety

If you search the definition of anxiety on the web, you will see Merriam Webster defines it as:

apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness usually over an impending or anticipated ill : a state of being anxious 

with a medical diagnosis of:

overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear often marked by physical signs (such as tension, sweating, and increased pulse rate), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat, and by self-doubt about one's capacity to cope with it

Anxiety is something I have fought with most of my life. Often, I have ignored it, or been able to "move past" it. I remember during my first year of college experiencing a lot of anxiety. I was not use to studying. I was definitely not use to living outside of my parents house. I wanted to make friends and do all the things everyone else I was meeting was doing. What I struggled with was studying back in my dorm instead of watching TV when others were studying. So when others did well on tests and in classes, I struggled with learning to study and be prepared for exams. My mom took me to counselors and hypnotists. When my aunt was suddenly killed in a car accident during the Spring of my Freshman year, my counseling increased and I did not like the medication I was prescribed. Immaturity I now know played a huge role at that time in my life, but the anxiety that I did not properly grasp was also present.

I am still learning to address my anxiety properly and struggling with prayer with it all. From loosing Riley, loosing Gabriel, taking a risk and opening a dental practice with my husband, loosing our dads, and raising kids (especially with their own unique needs and medical concerns), I have realized that I may have usually dealt with the anxiety by putting other things on my plate so I did not have time to think. Maybe I do better with my anxiety when my plate is too full, however, there are times that I just want to sit and cry. I want to pull the blankets over head and stay in bed. I want to take enough medication to make the tightness in my chest stop and feel more "lighthearted". 

I have talked to counselors. I have talked to my primary care doctor. I take anxiety medications. But I am lacking in prayer, or at least the prayer time I use to devote. I have tried to read again, and included books to better serve my purpose God has intended on earth (along with my pleasure reads). 

But this week, after a few stressful, what are normal life is going wrong (water heater went out, minor issues on vacation, water pump in van went out, etc.), I woke up at 4:30am from a terrible nightmare and my left arm was throbbing and I felt a burning in my chest. I had a very vivid dreams that night with some of the things that stress me out or make me anxious, but that particular dream that I awoke from was Jonah having an allergic reaction to a food he was eating at school. If you have never witnessed your child (or anyone you love so deeply) start loosing signs of life, be grateful. I don't wish those visions or realities on anyone. So, I put it off as anxiety and tried to go back to sleep. However, as the day went on, my left arm was still hurting off and on and my chest was tight. I put off having an EKG until Andrew got home to be with the kids that night. The thought of having to ask for help or figure out where they kids were or who could get them was more than I wanted to deal with during the day. I know I should not have worried about that, but I did. Luckily, my EKG was good. The urgent care doctor said that I may have pulled a muscle in my neck or chest and that is what caused the arm pain. And I also need to get more control of this anxiety.

But how do I do that? I can change a lot of things in our life to make it less stressful, but life is stressful. I cannot change Jonah's food allergies and that is something that weighs heavy on me everyday. The odd thing is, it isn't that we have to pay more for food, or figure things out different to cook. It isn't even where he is going to school or who is with him because God gives me peace for that than I could have imagined (even though my dream was different), but it is because I have felt for years that there is something God wants me to do besides what I am already doing. I use to think it was for Riley, and that is why I started this blog and talk to other moms who unfortunately joined our "club". But I really feel strongly now that it has something to do with Jonah and his allergies. I could be wrong, but I am going to start stepping out in faith more than I have been. I am going to do my part to try harder to bring Jesus into our home more than we have lately. And I am going to pray more for the answer and guidance of what God wants me to do, what my purpose is. And while I do, I will be blogging more on Jonah and our menus and what we do in our home to help keep him safe and still eat as a family without making different menus each night.

Please pray for us, and for me, as we learn to listen to the Holy Spirit more. I recently listened to our Pastor's sermon from last week since we missed church. He spoke of paranoia. And that hit me like a brick. My anxiety has given me such paranoia the past year. It is there when I talk myself out of sharing what we do for our family dinners. I do not enjoy cooking, but somehow I find some peace in it when I make a dairy free dinner for Jonah that he enjoys. That feeling makes me want to do more. So if you, or someone you know also suffers food allergies that are severe enough they could die, please know you are not alone! And if you suffer from anxiety, please don't suffer alone. Talk to someone and seek professional help. 

Jonah

All of our children have aspects that remind me of Riley. Unfortunately, Gabriel was too young in utero to be able to have many comparisons toward. 

This week, Jonah graduates Pre-K. Jonah has a lot more about him that makes me think of Riley than I realize. Had Riley survived birth, he would have had heart surgery. And, had he survived that heart surgery, more than likely he would have had more life or death situations including more surgeries in his lifetime. But, God's plan for him with me on earth was the 37 weeks in my utero that I would never give back. I often wonder what my life, our life would be like if Riley were alive as it would be full of doctor appointments and constant worry if he would survive. 

Jonah has had his own health challenges, and some life or death, that have filled our lives with constant doctor and specialists appointments, surgeries, and worries over where he is, who he is with, and what is around him (food and environment). 

To begin, during my pregnancy with Jonah I had a subchorionic hematoma. I was on pins and needles during his pregnancy more than I care to admit. 

Fortunately around 37 weeks, he quickly entered the world, at which point he surprised us with an extra left thumb! He has since gone through 2 surgeries (so far) to function like a normal child. I am happy to discuss this surgeries with anyone in more detail, or on here at a later time.

Then, around 9 months old he started showing signs of food allergies (FAs) It was determined at that time that he was allergic to milk and egg. Today, he can have eggs but no longer anything with cashews. This has been the most difficult, informative, scary, heartbreaking, lonely, proud, educational, life-changing journey. I feel God calling me to do more with this part of Jonah's life, so stay tuned and join me in prayer that I follow God's will and not my own here. This journey has also involved lots of anaphylactic reactions, ER trips, (including 1 by ambulance).

Later, he would loose his baby fat and an inguinal hernia was discovered that had probably been there since birth. His surgery to repair his hernia was just 8 months after his first hand surgery and 4 months before his next hand surgery.

Next, he would carry around big books and take a fall into the island in our kitchen and split his head open just below his eyebrow. The year this happened, I think we were in the emergency room 5 times. 

Finally, his outdoor and environmental allergies are constantly changing. We had a night when he was a few years old that I had to drive him to the ER because he was struggling to breath. He had a rescue inhaler that he used 1-2 times a day for almost 2 years. During part of this journey we had to eliminate outdoor play during peak pollen times and could not allow those who were around dogs to be around him without fresh clothes. Then, about 18 months ago he did so much better he could be outside and be around dogs. But, after fostering a puppy for a week, we learned he is reacting to dogs again, and had to return the puppy without adopting her. This was a difficult decision for our family that affected everyone. 

But no matter what life has thrown at him and no matter how many times he has been stitched, poked, examined, driven around to sit in waiting rooms, he is a happy kid. He gives the best hugs and likes to climb me as if he were suppose to be a monkey. I have nicknamed him Monkey, so you may hear my call him that at the ballfield! He is a joy, and although he is the middle child living in our house, he does not get typical middle child treatment. He is learning to navigate his FAs and environmental allergies. 

So this week, if you see me "boo-hooing" it is because this precious child of ours is graduating Pre-K. This is an accomplishment with his FA journey alone! I am so grateful to both programs and their teams who have navigated this FA journey with us and those who have gone out of their way to include him!

Pray for us come August as we start a new school with new teachers, staff, and friends who will get this Momma-bear's cautionary concerns heavy at the beginning with constant checking in until I get back to the comfort both The Academy at Wellspring and Station Hill Mother's Day Out have given me!

Jonah, we are so proud of the boy your are and the young man instincts that are shining through. You will do great things in this world! God has BIG plans for you and I am glad I get to be your mommy and to see you living them and growing into them!

Perfectly Imperfect

 

     I overwork myself. I miss opportunities with my kids, but I am trying to do better. I let my desire for things to have order and a place run my day. Yet, even the order I have things in is not the final desired order for it that I have. I have made mistakes and I have regrets. The last couple of weeks have been particularly emotionally heavy. Ok, honestly, the last couple of years. Ok, ok, and even before that. When things have happened I have not given myself the time (or resources) I should have to face life's realities head on. Did I face them, yes, but with my face turned as I continued to walk forward with the motions of moving on. I am perfectly imperfect because I am His. Before I was created in my mother's womb, God knew me. He knew my struggles. He knows now my desire to fill my plate, even when he longs for me to dump it so that I am fully in his presence. When I was pregnant with Riley and the few weeks after loosing him, I was in the best place spiritually that I have ever been in my life. Now, as I watch those I love suffer and pass away, I am reminded to slow down and focus on what is important. I yearn for the spiritual healing and feeling I had during that pregnancy and few days that followed.

     I don't blog as often as I probably should. I find myself thinking about writing and blogging as I am driving kids to and from school and other necessary places. I find myself starting to dream about what to write, especially as I sit in church staring to feel fed and then pray for God to guide me for what I should write. I pray that he gives me the words someone needs to hear, while at the same time having an outlet to express any emotions I am experiencing at that time. 

     Today, I took some time to look through old photos and yearbooks, remembering those who are heaviest on my heart. Today, I took time to sit and work on grant writing for my cousin that I have committed to, but I keep procrastinating. Today, I am taking time to write on my blog that I put in place originally to honor and remember our first son, Riley. 

Today, I feel called to share 3 things:

1. Don't desire to be anyone else. Be YOU! If you don't like the current version of you, get your bible, get a devotional, join a bible study, go to church, and breathe in the words. Pray God gives you the peace that transcends all understanding. I can say that I felt that so strongly the minutes after the doctor announced that Riley did not have a heartbeat. I cannot explain it, but it was a peaceful high that I long to feel again. And I know, I want a better version of me. In that version, I will do better to listen to Him and feel that peace again as I slow down and obey His word. (Read Philippians 4:7). I am a constant work in progress.

2. As I went through my organized boxes of scrapbook memorabilia (see, in it's place - organized boxes, when I haven't actually put it in it's place - a scrapbook), I found a small scrap of paper with my Papa's handwriting. It read "Deuteronomy 29:29" I looked it up and read '"The LORD our God has secrets known to no one. We are not accountable for them, but we and our children are accountable forever for all that he has revealed to us, so that we may obey all the terms of these instructions."' I read that after he passed and it was just words to me. Today I read it and I FELT it! My Papa may have had some financial secrets, but God was not a secret to him. He shared when he could and he studied to learn more. He was active in his bible study and constantly joined in the discussions and tried to study more. He followed that passage and showed me what it was like to be a Christian and a Christian role model in our home. So really, from this second share of today, I want those of you reading this to focus on these 2 things: 

        1) Do you know Him? If not, what can you do to get to know Him and feel His peace in a complicated world? Please seek to know Him. If you are reading this, know that you are loved and I desire for you to find Him and live in Heaven with me someday.

        2) Are your affairs in order for your passing so that your family knows your wishes and can spend time mourning and celebrating you rather than frustrated and lost in papers and legal concerns? If not, please check out Addio, https://www.ouraddio.com/

3. I am not perfect! I am no where near perfect. God is perfect. If you see me do something or I say something that offends you or makes you think less of me, please do not think less of Him! I am learning everyday. I need to be fed everyday by His word. I need to be forgiven everyday, and only He can provide those needs to me. What I have is not mine, not even our children are ours, but they are His. We are blessed to be their parents, and we fail at that some days. But I will continue to teach about Jesus in our home and pray over my children and their future spouses so that they will continue on spreading His word and hopefully in better ways than I ever could or will. Do I claim to be a Christian. Yes, but it is no claim, it is the truth. Do I falter? Do I struggle? Absolutely! But I am not afraid to admit that I am perfectly imperfect and I desire to do better, to know better, to know Him better, and to spread His love. He loves me. He desires for me to do better. He has provided me the words to follow to show how I am loved, how you are loved, and how we should love each other, imperfections and all!  

I voice memo'd the short poem below one day at a red light when I felt these words come to me. 

Open the doors and you will see a family that does not live perfectly.

The house is a mess, toys on the floor, screaming and yelling…we did our best. 

Vitamins by the coffee so we don’t forget, minds that are stuck with pandemic regret. 

Bills need paid and family needs fed as we count the hours 'till we go back to bed.

 

The ways in this world are quite different today, through our adult eyes we long for childhood play.

Generations pass on as we move toward our turn, yet even some younger no longer have candles that burn.

 

Our one saving grace from the heavens above is to know God has a plan for us with his great love.

We’ve had days of miracles and days of despair. We’ve had days of laughter and others filled with gray hair.

We long for the days when God calls us home, but until that day come know you are not alone. 

Open the doors and you will see a family that does not live perfectly.

First (and last) Full Marathon

    Running a full marathon has been something I have wanted to try for awhile. I have run the Indianapolis Mini Marathon a couple times and run several 5K's. I decided I wanted to run one before I turned 40. That same day I saw someone post on social media about sale prices for the St. Jude's Rock and Roll Marathon in Nashville. I signed up, ordered a training book, and planned my 20 week training plan. 

    Training was tough the first couple of days as I had been working out, but not running regularly. After the first couple weeks my left knee that I had ACL surgery on over 10 years ago started hurting. I began physical therapy. But by week eight my knee did not hurt anymore. I was so excited at how well I was improving and happy that I was enjoying running. Then I realized I messed up my 20-week plan and I was 4 weeks ahead of schedule. In hindsight, I should have just kept pushing forward on the plan, but I decided to slow down and start the plan over. 

    For the first time that I can ever remember, I packed workout clothes on vacation, and I actually used them and stuck to my training plan. I was excited with how healthy I was feeling and seeing changes in my body for the better. Running was giving me a high, especially when I would go early in the morning while most of the world, including my children, were sleeping. I changed my music choices several times, but usually ended up with a Christian workout station on Pandora. This allowed me to also quiet some of my thoughts and listen to the meaning of the words and worship while running.

    By week 14 I hit a wall. I was fighting some depression, anxiety, and stress that I had not really allowed myself to deal with or talk to anyone about. I skipped a run. I paused my gym membership so I could focus on my running as the mileages were adding up and I struggled with both along with my daily responsibilities. But my mind was stronger than my body and I would talk myself out of another run or three. Sometime in the following weeks I ended up with bulging discs in my neck. When I would try to run, I was in terrible pain and would have to walk more of my routes. I started going back for physical therapy. 

    Physical therapy was helping, I was starting to train again. But then our kids started taking turns getting sick and I would have to cancel my sessions. Two weeks before the marathon I debated on canceling or running the half and trying the full another time. It was cold outside, I was tired, I knew I had not been training like I should have. But I decided to push forward and rather than hoping for a finish time of my early weeks in training, I just wanted to be done in the 6 hour time limit. 

    Day of the race came. I could not believe it. I was happy it was finally here. I was sad I had not trained like I had begun and had planned to do up to this day. But I remembered how excited the crowd and entertainment made me on my mini marathons, so I hoped for the same. I had designed a playlist of music to help me if needed. And it was cold! Cold weather makes me have to urinate more. I lined up in my assigned corral about 7:00am. The first corral was released at 7:20am. My spot in my corral finally went through about 7:37am. 

 This is just some dialog in my mind as I completed the marathon:

     Yay! Finally, here we go! Okay, 26.2 miles and I will be done. I can do this. Oh no! It is cold, my toes are starting to feel numb. We are not even a mile down the road. I have to pee! Oh look porta potty's, wait people are cutting in line, I can't start like this, I have to just keep running, I cannot loose time in the first porta potty line! So I keep going. I see mile 3. Really! Already, that isn't so bad at all. Whew, I am hot, I need to loose this jacket, but not until I find a porta potty. I should have brought a sweatshirt I didn't mind leaving on the side of the road. Mile 5, what!? An empty porta potty! Okay, I feel better, I can keep running. What a beautiful neighborhood! Those people are passing out candy like it is Halloween, how funny. Mile 8, I see Santa Claus cheering me on, and the Easter Bunny. I also see Elvis running. I don't think I am hallucinating just yet, but maybe. Mile 11/12 we split from the half marathoners and it is all the sudden quiet and lonely. I turn a corner and get to run in the Sounds Stadium. I see myself on the big guitar screen. I try to snap a running selfie, but I discover later that it didn't turn out. I meet another runner who is also running his first marathon and also because of turning 40. Soon, we run alongside the half marathoners again. But wait! They are done, there they go, listen to those cheers. Ok, mile 15, I can do this. This isn't terrible. My mind is starting to tell me I am done, but I cannot listen. Mile 17 into a park. It is quieter, the paths are more narrow. I can do this, think "pretty park". But it isn't the leaves haven't changed much or they are already cleaned up. There are no pretty ducks in the water. Oh no! I have to pee again. I don't see any porta pottys. Wait, why does that sign say 20? I was just at 17. I can't be doing too bad, look at these people running past me in the opposite way. I just need to keep going. Hang on, "U-turn"!? So the people I just passed, thinking I was on a good pace were actually ahead of me and already did this loop! Why does that sign say 23. What is going on? Who messed up? My watch says mile 19 something. Okay, I have to walk more because when I run, I feel like I may pee my pants. Mile 20, I find a porta potty. I see a text from my husband pop up about being at mile 20 for awhile and asking if I am ok. No time to respond, just need to keep going. Finally, coming out of the park. Yay! I want to see city life again. OH NO! Does that sign have an arrow to finish straight ahead, but for the SECOND LOOP, to the right? I stop and ask. Yes, the park is two loops. Ugh, now the signs I saw make sense. Oh no. My mind is shut down. I cannot run. I want to cry. I want to be done. I will never sign up for another full. I will stick to half marathons and 5K's. Look that woman is walking. I can walk. Just for a bit. Oh wait, she was just walking the park! Now she is leaving. Oh no, I have to run! Caught back up to these two women I had passed and who had passed me at multiple points during this race. I am doing good. Yay! End of park is ahead. Mile 23. Oh wait, that is the pick-up bus to pick up runners coming into the park. I have to keep going. My feet hurt. My back hurts. My legs are starting to hurt. Small jog, I can do a small jog. I am fighting tears. I want to stop. I cannot stop. I am at Mile 24. I cannot come this far and not finish. But I cannot run anymore. I can barely jog. I come up by another runner and ask him if he has done this race before. He has. I ask him if I can walk the last 2 miles at this point or if they will pick me up. He tells me I have done great and I won't get picked up at this point if I walk. He also tells me the double park route was new and messed with his mind as well. A man cheering on comes up to me to tell me that there is one more hill around Mile 25, but after that, it is all downhill. He tells me I have this and to keep going but save my energy for the hill. I jog some more, I fight tears some more. There it is the hill at Mile 25. I power walk it up the best I can. Mile 26 sign, I start jogging. Finally, the gates into the finish line. I pick up my pace some, almost done. Wahoo! I did it! There is my husband and our kids. How wonderful! I am so glad they are here. I crossed the line in just shy of 6 hours. I am happy. I am sore! I am slightly discouraged with my time, but trying to lean on the fact that I did it and in my later goal time knowing that I had not been training toward the last 6 weeks like I should have.

*We figured out that my husband thought I was stuck at mile 20 for awhile because of the double loop in the park. I think it was hard for the tracking system to understand the pass throughs.

  

Difficult Conversations with Parents

     When we are younger, we tend to try to act older. We want to speed things up and be an adult (especially in the teen years). What we don't realize often enough is all the responsibility that comes with being an adult. If you were like me, your parents tried to shield you away from knowing the stress of all the responsibility that was on their plate. Paying the bills, working, taking care of their aging parents, and trying to find time to enjoy life with their children who were rapidly growing up.

    So here I am, almost 39 years into this world. Trying to balance the stress of life with work, bills, raising children that have had a few more medical concerns than my parents had to deal with. I have the daily heartaches of missing 2 of our children. Also in our short years on this earth, my husband and I have already buried our fathers.

   Now, to explain the difficult conversations with parents. My husband and I have had the difficult conversations with both of our fathers. If you are at this stage of your life, or maybe you have been there already, then you may have also had this conversation. You know, the one that asks if they are prepared financially for their future, whether it be retirement home, long-term care, or having their funeral. Do they have life insurance? Where are the papers and the contact information of those we need in the event of emergency or death? Andrew's dad was more prepared, and before his passing, added him as a Power of Attorney. This made the process smoother in the midst of grief. Honestly, it allowed us the time to grieve.

    My dad, my Papa, well, that is another story. I was definitely "Daddy's girl". I was blessed to work with him some growing up and while in college. He taught me a lot. But, he was a stubborn, proud man. I knew he was not in the best of health, but he wouldn't admit it and wouldn't stop working. He visited us a lot to see his grandkids. During those visits I would try to find out more about the stage of his health, his finances, and his plans. He would tell me more about his health (but still not everything) than he would his finances. And he certainly didn't want to discuss plans. In May 2019, we stopped by my parents' house to stay for a couple days on our way to Chicago. On the refrigerator was his last ER visit report. It listed ALL his diagnosis and the years of the initial diagnosis. My father had Malignant Prostate Cancer that was diagnosed 5 days after our wedding in 2011! That was just 1 of the many things we uncovered. Andrew and I confronted him and expressed our concern. He commented that the cancer was benign. When we told him the report said malignant and we know what that means, I think he wished he had not kept the paper hanging up with 2 "kids" around who could decipher the medical language. I will never forget that day, the look on his face, or the fear in my body when we tried to ask him what his plans were. I told him I knew things (house and finances) were in a mess and I asked him if he went first if he would want to leave Mom in that mess. He said no, but that he had it handled....proud and stubborn. I didn't push the issue anymore. Then in December, he came for Christmas. He expressed some concerns he had to me about other things, but said he had it handled and would take care of it in January. 

    When they were getting ready to drive back to Indiana, my stubborn Papa climbed into the the driver's seat while I was upstairs changing our daughter from a diaper blowout. My mom came up to see if I was going to tell them goodbye. I was frustrated and said I was, but couldn't believe he couldn't wait a few minutes for me to clean Audrey up. Mom just said he was ready to get on the road and reminded me how stubborn he was. I hugged him the best I could while he still sat in the driver's seat. My gut told me it was the last time I would see my father and continued to twisted painfully as I watched them drive away, knowing it was the last time, but not wanting to believe it.

    Late on January 11, 2020 I got the call that my Papa was being worked on by paramedics. Into the first few minutes into January 12, he was gone. 

    I spent the next year heavily focused on the unprepared mess he left. I didn't get or take the time to grieve when I should have.  And there is still parts of the mess being dealt with and parts I am walking away from.

    I have spoken to a few people in the last year who have said that their parents also do not have things lined up. Maybe because of our life experience, but Andrew and I have everything prepared, but the last touches to our will, which we are currently working on. 

    So please, if you know your parents don't have things lined up, see what you can do to help them (if they will let you). Or see if you can take out a policy yourself to help with the finances when the time comes so you are not spending your savings. And, if your parent/s are as stubborn as my Papa, please let them know that the mess left can destroy families, take time unnecessary away from their grandkids, and leave you feeling lost and hopeless without being able to grieve properly.