brave

Here’s to You….

This post is a salute to everyone who has ever touched my life. I appreciate and applaud your friendship, love, comfort, guidance, wisdom and support. After all, where would I be without you? As “they” say, “it takes a village.” Surely, it’s taken an entire nation to get me here. I am blessed.

I was not the easiest child, I can positively say. Since my mom’s passing in July this year, many things have come to an acute point of conversion. I sometimes wish I could be little again, knowing what I know now, and appreciate my mom more than I did. Impossible. Yes. But “they” say, “hind sight is 20/20.” So very true.  The question, ‘If you could do it all over again, would you do it differently?’ First of all, most of us wouldn’t go back for anything, but if I could appreciate my parents more back then, I would do that. I would also appreciate and spend more time with my grandparents, my aunts and uncles and cousins to be sure. I have an amazing family.

I remember growing up, looking everywhere for acceptance, from the time I was young but especially in Jr. high and high school. I have never confided that to anyone. There were cliques and crowds, most of which I didn’t seem to fit into. The struggle and desire to be simply ‘liked,’ was real. If I could go back, I’d pay more attention to school and worry less about what everyone else thought of me. In 100 years, no one will remember. Mom said that all the time. I appreciate now, her words of wisdom then. Salutations to all those who befriended me back then. You truly meant the world to me and still do today. My true friends, you know who you are, thank you.

Thank you to my children, without whom I wouldn’t have excelled in patience and compassion. You are all the reason I was born, I’m positive. It was hard; there were times I wasn’t so sure we would make it, but we’ve all come out on the other side. Adults now, I pray your dreams and aspirations come true. I wish you kindness, wonder, and humility.  And, for Heaven’s sake, live like there’s no tomorrow because we don’t know if there will be.

My sisters deserve my utmost respect. They become your best buddies somehow even when you used to think they were just a pain in the butt. When you’re the eldest, they are more like shadows that never go away. Then, when you are mature enough to appreciate ‘sisters’, you’re grateful you have them. They now are “qualified” to know my secrets and dreams like I never trusted them before, seriously, not on your life. I never had a big brother (secretly wished for one every night), but my cousin filled the bill for me. I appreciate and love him like a brother as much today as I did when we were little. I wanted to be like him, blow up tiny anthills with firecrackers like him, ride a motorcycle like him and make a ‘machine-gun sound’ with my voice like him. Sadly, I’ve only ridden a motorcycle (my own Sportster), but not like him. He rides with the wind, on a mission I don’t fully understand. Here’s to the war-hero Veteran I knew he’d always be.

And finally a toast to my husband for always putting up with me and giving me the most beautiful life a person could want. I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t come along. “They”say, ‘everything happens for a reason.’ For me to be sitting here writing this, I have him to thank. Living on a little lake, understanding my need to be in the Virgin Islands and sending me twice a year sometimes, doing the best he could with the kids I already had, giving more than he asks for in return and even buying me a little crown (haha), loving me through my multiple sclerosis and never complaining; I couldn’t ask for more. I’m 54 and finally got my crown!

In this month, the first Thanksgiving without my mom, my children scattered across the globe, and me here in the Northwest in the freezing cold, I’m thankful for so many things and am blessed in ways I never dreamed possible. I wish all of you a bountiful Holiday with all the love and happiness you can handle.

Always, All My Love….

bravery, fortitude and faith

I am not sure how one gets to the point where you just know everything is going to be okay. Somehow, I not only know it will, I FEEL it will.  I was fortunate enough to get back to my happy place twice this year, for nearly 3 months total. The British Virgin Islands. My first trip here was in 2008 with my husband.

I had always wanted to go, since I was in 6th grade and one of my besties at the time, Kay Adams, used to tell me stories of growing up on St. Croix, riding her horse ‘Lady Bug’ on the beaches there. Ever since those childhood days, I knew I would go. (I wish I knew where SHE IS today!)

People on the west coast go to Hawaii or Mexico. People on the east coast go to ‘The Islands,’ either the USVI, BVI, Bahamas, or somewhere south. In my adolescence, I did go to Hawaii several times on family trips. I always thought it was beautiful, and it is. The BVIs are the way I imagine Hawaii must have been at least 50 years ago. No one is in a hurry, no one cares what time it is, and if you go, the BVIs are the epitome of “island time.”

There is no such thing as being late, unless you need to catch a ferry to a neighboring island. The ’80-80-80′ rule applies here. Air temperature is always 80 degrees, water temperature is always 80 degrees, and the visibility underwater is always 80 feet. This, according to my daughter, is Where The Coconuts Grow!

It’s so true, as you can probably see from this photo of Long Bay.

This year my first grandchild came into this world. Peter Brig Pieschel was born in this amazing place. While healthcare in the islands is running the tortoise’s race, a bit slowly at best, my healthy little grandson arrived on his own time schedule, June 13, 2017. This year I went two times! The first time was to get ready for him, with a little fun on the side; and then I went again arriving the day after he was born, with even more fun on the side!

Summer in the Islands is excruciatingly sweltering with an abundance of mosquitoes and no-see-ums. When baby Brig was born though, I was there to help take care of my first grandchild, which was to say the least, an immense blessing.  I look back when he was so tiny at 6 pounds 9 ounces. He’s nearly 16 pounds now at about 4 months.

Then hurricane Irma hit, a category-5 storm, which is now confirmed as the worst hurricane ever in the history of the Atlantic ocean. This storm devastated the British Virgin Islands and the kids’ boat/home.  Jody and Brig flew home to me 2 days before the storm hit. Peter stayed to secure their boat and multiple other boats. After much praying for him and his own survival skills, Peter made it through the eye of a direct hit from Irma and so did their dog Betsy.

They are all safe in Washington now but have no home to go back to. My heart is in these beautiful islands, with the people who live there, expats and natives alike. Right now there is nothing to go back to, and these islands have been ravaged. While so many are trying to help with the faithful anticipation of rebuilding, I find myself wishing I could do more.

Taking care of their little family along with other family members, is a long way from direct help, but somehow I know I’ll go back soon. I also know I’ll be swimming in the still-clear waters of Tortola and maybe get a chance to spend some ‘Soggy Dollar'(s) in the islands. What they need now, in a country that is 83% tourism based in some form or another, is tourists!

Stacy and I in Long Bay, chatting,floating and enjoying!

Sweet tiny Brig.

Baby Brig with his Betsy….  I love this photo.

I know the kids were brave, especially Peter, but also Jody when she left that island with nothing but a backpack on her back and their baby strapped to her front. With tears in her eyes, she left her home, her island, and her husband, not knowing if she would see them again.

My heart aches for all they lost, and for all their friends have lost. After spending so much time with them, living there on Tortola, I have come to appreciate that tiny part of the world more than ever. I also know they have the fortitude to keep pushing on. After all, it’s their stamina that has kept them on that tiny island, at times, with all the adversity one could imagine, complications that come from thin air, and ridiculously beautiful weather, all without reticulating a gigantic hurricane into the mix.

As for faith. I have all the faith they will need. I KNOW they will be okay and in the end, I am CERTAIN something amazing is coming their way.

 

How you can help:

Go to www.youcaring.com/wherethecoconutsgrow to help Peter, Jody, Brig and Betsy.

To see how they survived Hurricane Irma, go to Jody’s blog, www.wherethecoconutsgrow.com – she also has some pretty amazing photos after the hurricane and multiple other links to help survivors of Irma and Maria in the USVI, BVI, Puerto Rico, Florida, Texas and the wildfires in the US.

Baby Brig and his Daddy.

Can’t wait to return to my happy place!