Tag Archives: family

Apr 18 2025
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Bible, family, health, kids, Marriage, parenting, random, The Wound Cronicles, writing

Easter Reflections: A Journey of Remembrance

AKA #lentphotoaday April 18th, prompt word is “REMEMBER”

#lentphotoaday

Luke 24:6-7: “He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee.” This passage reminds the disciples that Jesus is not dead but has risen, echoing the message of his resurrection.

The above picture is from Easter in Florida, 2017. I found this picture and I was the first time in years, I sat down to look at all the images and really REMEMBERed this awesome vacation. We went to a beautiful Easter service at my parent’s church at First Presbyterian in Naples. This was the last trip we took to Florida as a family. The service was gorgeous. There was a packed house and stunning flowers everywhere. The room was packed with Lily Pulitzer, Hermes, Vineyard Vines, massive waves of seersucker and loads of Khaki. Those wealthy Presbys really know how to put on a fancy Easter.

My parent’s last home they lived in there was at the Ritz compound and the club they belonged to was exquisite. They lived in a few places over the years in Naples and we were fortunate to be able to bring the kids a handful of times. We didn’t have much money to travel but my dad was always generous, making our trips over the years Christmas presents for the family. This last trip was extra. We lived liked kings that vacation. I remember work was really crazy for Mike and it was good that he was able to get away and relax. Charlie was really struggling with pre-transition anxiety and the ocean air did us all good. We felt vey blessed to have this time to be together as a family and with my dad and stepmom.

Sometime this above beach day, I got a little weird bug bite on my stomach in the water. Four days later, I was clinging to life with six IV’s in me, almost dying of an aggressive staph infection. I would spent the next five weeks with a wound vac in my stomach. Egads! My health has been erratic ever since. Who knew that day, after such beach perfection, chaos would ensue and it would also be our last in Florida together with my dad.

My kids have always eyerolled at all the pictures I take. But honestly, thank God I did. Being able to look back and REMEMBER has been one of the great pleasures in my life. In the hustle and bustle of life’s grind, it’s essential to remember that we have had a really great, blessed life together as a family.

Easter is always a time for family, but it is the commemoration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ that gathers us all together. We are grateful for his sacrifice, while offering hope for eternal life.

Love you.

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Apr 17 2025
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Bible, Marriage, parenting, random

Giving Back: Our Journey in Supporting Local Veterans

AKA April 17th #lentphotoaday prompt word is “AMONG”

I sing the National Anthem on top of a firetruck every Thanksgiving morning. It’s an honor to be asked because it’s an honor to serenade and thank the new recruits at the Great Lake Naval Base every year. These kids are most likely far away from home and I am sure missing their family. So our local amazing Moose Lodge #1969 here in Wauconda, of which I am a member, picks them up in a bus and feeds them a glorious Thanksgiving meal. But before they are fed, they bring them to Main Street where they can be honored AMONG our supporting and loving community.

As much as my husband and I have been able to, in the past 15 years living here, we try to give back to our community. We raised three kids and we have successfully finished that era, sending out last off to college this year. So we feel like we can start truly digging in…more time allocated to give back. We have tried to our best to keep the balance and help on top of our parental duties. We donate our time and talents when we can. He DJs for events like National Night Out and I donate my singing for events like the Turkey Trot and Memorial Day. We do also get hired to provide entertainment for events as well, but we always try to give back in some way. Our goal in the next two years is to establish a more solid commitment as to where and how can put our greatest gifts forward, whether it is more active in the Moose charities or perhaps even helping support Bangs Lake. We look forward to the next chapter for us to be more of an asset to our lovely town.

In events like the troops at Thanksgiving and the Turkey Trot race that 100% raises money for charities, we are surrounded by all the workers who are volunteering their time and energy. It feels so powerful to be AMONG a community that comes together in unity, to support and share the responsibility of taking care of one another.

Love you.

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Apr 15 2025
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Education, family, kids, Marriage, parenting, random, writing

Exploring Seattle’s Hidden Gem: SWeL Restaurant

Daily writing prompt
What is your favorite restaurant?
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Food is comfort. Restaurants provide the comfort food and warm environment. As with my eldest when he went to college in Iowa, for four years we established places that we loved to visit when we went to see him. We always tried new things when we would head to Davenport, but we had a couple mainstays that just make our four years there special.

Now my youngest is painfully far away from us in Seattle. For context, we live in a little lake town northwest of Chicago. She is 2/3’s of her way through her freshman year at University of Washington. I definitely found my happy place in the Seattle food scene. We first found SWeL. when I took her out last spring to see the school. It was a chaotic little last minute visit. It was the tenth and last school in which she was accepted and it was a bit of a wild card for her. She was looking at all schools Northeast. But when she got in, we quickly made wayyyyyy too expensive last minute plan flights, I found a pineapple-themed hotel blocks away from the campus and off we went. It was a 60-hour turnaround and we were feeling the heat. A 5:00am flight from Chicago, five hour layover in Denver, landing in the never before-seen beautiful Seattle, Uber to the pineapple hotel and by 4pm ,we were walking on the beautiful campus in the middle of the stunning CHERRY BLOSSOMS.

Sold.

No seriously, we were not scheduled for the official tour until the next morning, but let’s just say, we were already buying swag. We desert-crawled back to the hotel, hungry and exhausted. I was tempted to order a pizza to the room and call it a night, but we were, after all, in one of the top foodie cities in the country, so we needed to make the effort. Not going to like, I Yelped. I love Yelp. Literally never had steered wrong. Searched something like “Top 10 restaurants near me”. SWeL. popped up right away. I saw yummy martini’s, a great vegetarian selections for my daughter, the reviews were super positive and I think it sold me almost immediately at “Come feel cozy…”

SWeL. is in the Fremont district. We didn’t know what that was. (It’s now our favorite area and we have stated there twice in VRBO’s.) We fell in love the minute we walked in, because it’s SUCH a vibe. It’s lush and romantic with the appropriate mood lighting. The owner greeted us and he was charming. There is some fun and suble tongue and cheeks nods on the menu, which I appreciate, and the food was spectacular. I had an excellent French 75 and we shared one of the best calamari dishes I’ve ever had. My daughter loved her shitake pappardelle and I was equally obsessed with my pork chop. Of course we had to end with the homemade chocolate chip cookies!

Special mention, and this feels a tiny bit weird saying this, but they had the best smelling bathroom I have ever been in and I tried to figure it out, but I couldn’t figure it out Was it a candle, soap, magic? I’m going back a fourth time in June, so I am going to get down to the nitty gritty.

Yes, we went back a second and a third time. When it was time to bring my daughter in September for her freshman year, my husband and another one of our children came with me, and I insisted we go back to SWel. First we went with with the kids and everyone loved it as much as I. The calamari was as excellent as before, the expresso martini’s were next level and other highlights were the beet salad, pancetta pizza, a delicious fish special and the chicken breast. Someone ordered the cookies and the gelato was a huge hit. My family was successfully sucked in as well.

A couple months later, we headed out in November for UW parent’s weekend. This time we came with another one of our kids. After a huge day of sight-seeing, our son was exhausted, so my husband took just me back to SWeL. for a great date night. We actually walked from our VRBO and we had the best Black Manhattans. We had a romantic and lovely meal at the bar, the staff as kind and accommodating as all the other times. We look forward to going back next month and making it a staple for the next four years our our Seattle experience. 200 out of 10 stars for us. Thank you, SWel and see you in June.

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Apr 12 2025
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Bible, death, depression, Marriage, mental health, random, writing

Sunsets and Peace and Connection, Oh My.

a.k.a. #lentphotoaday April 11 “PEACE”

I’m working my way through this day. The above angel mark was thick today and it was mighty. Before I sat on my back stoop and watched the sun set on a beautiful night, I had a hard day. I was extra lonely. My husband is out of town and we are usually our own bosom buddies when one of us is not working. Some things happened today that really made me sad. Life transitions are being clunky, but I know living here in this medicinal bubble of a home is keeping me afloat.

John 14:27. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Many of us have heard a variation of this a million times during the gospel. You didn’t hear it always on the weekly rotation, but it was usually in the go-to options of the starting line-up.

The Biblical concept of PEACE encompasses total wholeness, total health, total welfare; the total of God’s blessings. PEACE is sprinkled ALLLLL over the Bible. It’s a strong vibe. Obviously because when there is chaos we seek to find PEACE.

This next one is taking up extra rental space in my head right now:

John 16:22 So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.

I’m tired.

Someone I love called me today upset. They missed their parent they recently lost. Boy, do I get it. It got us to talking about the paths our lives are taking and how sad it was that while they are making some dreams come true that their parent always championed, they were so filled with grief that they were missing it. I asked them if they think their loved one is really missing it? They thought for a more than a minute.

Because, I explained, I don’t think they are missing it. I think they are right here with us. Walking next to us. Holding out their hand, helping guide us, rooting for us, being our champions in Heaven. I feel my father all the time. I know he is with me. That’s just what I believe though. Some might call me crazy for sure. Whatevs. I explained further that life is so hard. But what I do know, very easily and with a lot of calmness and peace; that they indeed walk among us. It’s awful they are not physically here, it’s the very worst and we can do nothing to change it. But at least they are spiritually present. And that does give me PEACE.

I took myself outside for the sunset and sat on my stoop. I watched Sam the muskrat float by on his back, enjoying the vastness of the the lake before the docks go in, before the motors start humming, and the summer sounds start amping up. I saw the baby ducks scootch by with their families, and the geese making their way back to the hood. I wrapped up in my cardigan, leaned back on the banister and watched God’s show. I felt my Dad with me, winking to me that sunset. Thanks Daddy. It gave such good PEACE.

Love you.

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Aug 07 2021
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Getting old, health, mental health, writing

Awe Is Not Always Happy

Round two: (better late than never.)

How is he talking to me and he looks like himself and his hands move like himself and I’ve sat in this chair across from him a million times while he sat in that chair across from me a million times? Now all his words in their order make no sense like cut up, strung up and mismatched pieces of fabric. I’m trying to smile on the outside and I’m praying he can’t tell that I’m screaming and crying on the inside.

I’m in awe, and it’s not in the fireworks way, or being at Disney way, or a nurse handing one of my babies in my arms for the first time sort of way. That’s all awe filled with joy.

Tonight he couldn’t tell me very importantly what he very importantly wanted to tell me. That’s awe filled with sad.

Falling asleep, broken heart. Scrunch tears and think of years ago, walking on a beach where he pulled me out of the water, laughed loud, called me “twinkle toes”, skipped a rock and bent down to hold my hand.

That’s happy awe.

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Sep 05 2019
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Getting old, random, Uncategorized, writing

Too Sad To Title.

I really want to scream.

I wake up this morning, dragging myself out of bed. I’m yawny and blurry and dreading my 8:30am workout.  I roll over, grab my glasses and pick up my phone to see what I missed on social media. God forbid, I miss something important, since it’s been a whole four hours when I last tried to sleep. And then I see a text from one of my dear friends, to tell me that someone we love died last night.

Fuck.  Fucking fuck.  I can’t.  Shock is weird.  It’s like someone took out my brain and hung it on the ceiling right above my head and it’s throbbing.  I’m feeling so many things, but I don’t actually know one thing I’m feeling.  I can toss out the usual reactions: disbelief, shock, sadness.  I can’t think or type the right words to even describe what that feels like…I can only explain that it was more like I’m slouching on the side of my bed, with an elephant sitting on my chest and I just can’t find a breath to take.

First thoughts….first thoughts…it’s not real.  I think of his life partner. I think of his family.  I pray that he didn’t feel pain.  I angry-cry about him being too fucking YOUNG.  Warning: I’m going to spill the beans and share all the crazy shit that was going on in my head.  It’s embarrassing, but maybe something relatable. Or maybe it’s just thoughts that prove that I need professional help.  But it’s real, it’s raw and it’s the truth. And it all comes from me hoping that in our very last days, we know how much we are loved.

My mind is a Rolodex, flipping to the last time I talked to him. Flip, flip, flip…when was that? I just had an email exchange with him a week ago…two weeks ago…was it a month ago?  It could have been six.  It was business.  About a booking? Was I loving, responsive and kind?   Or was I curt, short and to the point?  Is that the last impression he got from me?  Did he know how much he meant to me?  Did I tell him how much he meant to me?  Fuck.  No, I didn’t. We, as humans, don’t do that all day, every day. It was business about a booking…it was…normal day stuff.

More thoughts are spewing: why didn’t I tell him how much he meant to me on one of the last times I saw him.  That time recently at a show.  When I saw him looking up at me,  smiling at me, watching me from off-stage. Why didn’t I scream out to him, “I love you and I am grateful for you in my life, my friend?”  He deserved to hear that every day.  We all do.   But we don’t think that every time we say goodbye to someone…that it might be the very last time.

I want time back.  I want the early days with my old pal, when we were jamming in his family room in the first band I was ever in, when I was in the best times of my life and I didn’t know it, and he was teaching me Chaka Khan tunes and we were drinking PBR; underage and unforgiving, I want to go back to that and take his face in my hands and say, thank you for being in my life.

And then when we re-connected through music in the last few years…he found out that, even though I’m an old Golden Girl now,  I’m still musically at it, kicking around on stages and still fighting the old gal fight.  He heard I was still singing, and he reached out to me with that beautifully gargantuan smile and said, “Hey.  Let’s do something with your music,” Then again, I should have taken his face in my hands and said thank you for again for still being in my life.

Recently, he hired me to sing in a place, and there was a random hole in the floor.  He quietly, yet deftly remembered that I am, and always will be, a ditz.  AKA: a girl who will always fall into holes.  He pointed down and said, “Heather, don’t fall in that hole.”  I walked past that hole in the floor without incident, turning back at him with a smirk on my face and simultaneously patting myself on my own back.  Then he pointed to a door in the back of the room and gave me a warning look. “Walk through here.  It’s cool behind there, but be careful.”  Obviously, I strutted through that door and I immediately fell way down into a much bigger hole.  But it was a fun fall, because I got to hear that old laugh.  It was lovely; ringing robust and true just like those good old days.

What now.  I feel too many things.  Mostly I feel so deeply sad for his amazing partner and his loved ones; all the people who will feel the loss every day.  I’m feeling again so much sadness for those who will now have to walk around everything and everyday without him.

Now it’s the wee small hours.  What to do now?  Gradually all day,  I was checking Facebook, watching how so many people were grasping to mourn such a tragedy.  Share how much they loved this man by posting pictures and stories and dedications.  I did the same, trying to to connect and grieve together. There were so many loved ones, yearning helplessly to write to him and tell this magnificent person one more time how much they loved him…hoping so hard that he can hear all of us from up above.  It’s so desperate and yet so very needed for many of those left behind.  All so overwhelming and heartbreaking and scary and final.

I once had this kind friend in high school and he asked me to be in a band. He taught me things about music that I still sing out of my mouth today.  Lately, he found me again and I got to see that wide, electric smile and share some laughs and a great love for music.  Then, we lost him too soon and I wish I had more. I wish I did more.

Ferris nailed it: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Life is, indeed, gorgeous. It’s work.  It’s tiring, yet so rewarding.  It’s filled will so many layers and it is enveloped with all the different kinds of love.  It fills your heart and it breaks your heart and then it’s over way too soon.  My old friend, thank you for your friendship.  Heaven is jamming to your serious super-funk tonight and for always. How lucky are they up there? How lucky were we down here. XO MT.

 

 

 

 

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Nov 14 2017
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Getting old, health, random, Uncategorized

Fallopian Send-Off Countdown…and Go!

I just scheduled my appointment to get gutted.

This moment only took me four years.   But alas, I am here.  I have officially been put in a vaginal timeout by my Lady Doctor and there is no going back.  My last check-up a few weeks ago with him went a little something like this:

(Scene: Doctor’s office follow-up with results, after complete biopsy under the hood.)

Lady Doctor: Besides your endometriosis, your fibroid is growing.

Me: I’m an overachiever.

Lady Doctor: (Not amused.  I start to think: when you look up chee-chaws all day long, I guess humor slowly erodes away like lining of a vaginal cavity.)

Lady Doctor: Last year your fibroid was a lime.  Right now it’s an orange.  It’s time.

Me: Hm.  Ok.  Now, would you classify that as a clementine? I love those little guys.

Lady Doctor:  (Not amused.) Not at all.  The big one.  It’s time.

Me: That doesn’t sound apPEALing!

Lady Doctor: (Literally no expression.)

Me: K.

*****

Fallopian-Tube-1

My Trunk Junk.

Friends, meet cervix.  Cervix, meet friends.  In 2 short months, all of these once-overactive baby maker tools will be Jack-the-Rippered out of me.  Sayanara, sweeties!

The saddest part is all the excuses I have made.  I can say that I put these shenanigans off because of “work”. I book our gigs months in advance and I don’t want to screw my musical partner out of months of work=valid.

I can say that I can’t afford to stop teaching and singing for two months=valid.

I can say that I don’t want to leave my students voice teacher-less in the heart of high school spring musical audition season=valid.

I can say that I am scared to get all the weird and non-glamorous side-effects I will adopt, after they rip out my woman bits=valid.

I can even say that I am not sure what I am going to do with myself for two months, because I literally have watched the absolute and complete entire collection of Netflix=VALID TO ME.  And also embarrassing.

But the real truth…the one that festers and bubbles…the one I dare not whisper to anyone, even sometimes to myself…is that I am dreading the pain=The most valid.

But it’s going to hurt me so badly.  Not so much from the relinquishment of my reproductive whozits and whatzits galore, but my actual BODY will pulse and vibrate with breath-taking pain from not being medicated.  I have to go off of my Humira 10 days before and I can’t start up again until 6 weeks after.  During that time, my rheumatoid arthritis will unleash from the very gates of the seventh circle of hell to attack every joint in my body.  It’s a dark place, brother.

I could be all Pollyanna and pretend that it will “not be as bad as I think”, but fuck glasshalffull.  I know it will suck hard, because it happened to me unexpectedly last year.  (Please refer to the past WOUND posts.  It wasn’t pretty.)  It freaking hurt.  I’d rather have 5 more babies, all popping out at the same time.  Oxycodin from my surgery will help, but eventually I will have to stop, to prevent me from being an addict looking for a fix in the parking lot of Mariano’s, Zumba and all the other popular mom-addict drug spots in the surrounding Lake County area.

But it’s time.  Now I have 51 days to really show my ovaries a rockin’ good time.  I’m taking them to Florida.  I am definitely not going to neglect them from any opportunity to enjoy a tall Tito’s and soda.  They can help me decorate my Cubbie Christmas tree this season.  I’m even going to dress them up in flapper sequins and let them sing with me at my big closeout NYE gig this year.  They will want for nothing…..these bitches will be spoiled, but they are going out in style, yo!

Word.

 

 

 

 

 

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