life

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!

 

waves of change, oceans of opportunity….

The ocean is truly a soulful matter to me. The sound of the waves lapping at a boat hull, or rolling up onto the shore is tranquil in and of itself. Metaphorically, waves of emotion, often have the power to tear apart our lives when least expected. Change can seem inflexible and unyielding. Oftentimes, there is opportunity in the vortex that seems to envelope our lives, but it can be difficult to recognize, especially if drowning.

I am speaking of the epidemic of drugs, alcohol and addiction in those we love. Everyone is touched somehow, some way by this nefarious beast. It has many heads and tells many slanderous tales. It takes our loved ones from us. Make no mistake, the game is not one regarding captivity. The final goal is annihilation. I speak from past experience, having seen a family member taken because of addiction. I also have friends who have survived a loved one being taken from them.

Grievously, we have all been touched by friends or loved ones who are addicts or who’ve overdosed. You can see it all over Facebook and social media. There are SO MANY parents who have no idea what to do to help their addicted child, me included. This is something no one wants to talk about. It’s embarrassing if it’s your child, it’s a giant secret in even the best families. One of the reasons for this couldn’t be more disgusting.

These 20-something and younger kids either have no insurance, can’t get insurance because it is too expensive or their parents can’t afford to buy insurance for their families. In the State of Washington, you can get Medicaid, but truthfully, most clinics and private doctors don’t accept it. Going by different names, such as Apple Health, in reality it’s just Medicaid; an umbrella term or “brand name” for all Washington State medical assistance programs. If you weren’t a patient previous to the time you obtained Apple Health, most clinics will not accept you as a patient.

I have worked in the medical field for many years and KNOW this to be true. Sure you can go to a community health care clinic miles from where you live and be seen by a different provider each time, but you can’t get the care you deserve from names you know and trust. If you have no insurance, and your child needs help, you’re left with a whole lot of nothing. Meanwhile, your kid is on the streets, you try desperately to find a place for help, but there are “no beds available.” It’s on a first-come-first-served basis. People wait weeks, all the while using the whole time, being strung out, trying to just survive till tomorrow. None of them find peace. In reality, these places who take someone in for detox, actually have more dealers outside their doors than anywhere else. When the addict leaves, supposedly “detoxed,” all they have to do is step outside where there is a dealer just waiting to supply them with the next hit. I know I do not have the resources to send my kid to Arizona or some serene beach facility somewhere.

I firmly believe that if there was more help in the form of good drug programs and treatment centers who care, many addicts would be alive today. Shame on the big clinics and organizations who are able to provide help but decline because they won’t get paid enough. Is a life worth that exta $500 bucks for one visit? They end up in an ER, treated with Narcan and then released. Tell me how that helps? Remarks on FB or in the news saying, “they’re just drug addicts, who cares if they die,” or “they’re better off dead and not on the street,” infuriate me. If that addict was your sister, brother, mom, or dad would you say the same thing? Do you support those who deal with addiction, not because they want to, but because there is no choice? Just tell them you care, it’s the biggest step of all.

We all need to become more aware and care. Our children are using drugs for a variety of reasons, but all it takes is one time, and then they are hooked. They steal, cheat and lie to get the next fix. One day you wake up and you don’t even recognize your own kid. I would urge you to consider this fact: You are not immune to drugs. Kids from rich families, poor families, good families, Christian families, athletic families and even families who swear, “that won’t happen to my kid,” have horror stories to tell us if we listen.

Addiction does and can happen to anyone. If helping someone survive means we need to stop enabling them, then we need to. It doesn’t mean we need to hold a grudge against the addict. They are being held in a hell worse than we can imagine. Your grudge doesn’t hurt the addict, it only hurts you. Telling someone you love and believe in them makes more sense.

I do not know what the answer is, I just know I have to fight. The drugs are winning right now, our children are dying. I want the very best for all of my children, as any parent does. Sometimes it isn’t all wrapped up in a perfect little package and I’m not afraid to say that my family is no exception. I work on it every day in my own way and in my own heart. I dream of change and have faith it’s coming. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking about me first, which is a very difficult thing to do when you have 6 adult kids and you’ve never done it before. I’m digressing a bit, but I think I need to be at peace with myself to be able to help others. It doesn’t mean I don’t cry or stress out because of addiction in my family. It just means I’m trying my best to make it through, as that is the only way out.

We are all waves of one sea. We need to start behaving that way.

i’ve learned I can keep going long after I think I can’t….

I’m pretty confident I didn’t sign up for MS. I didn’t take a number and stand in line to obtain a short fuse, memory problems, sensory overload, fatigue, numbness or pain. Yet, I’m the infamous owner of all and more. Sometimes I feel like the quondam image of me was long ago obliterated. I’d love it if someone could toss me a magical life ring. If I could just reach it, all these symptoms would be gone; but it’s just out of my grasp.

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I am paddling toward the horizon but I never reach my goal. Every day is comparable to that. Some days are good, and some days are better; but then some days are just too much. I keep paddling through troubled waters littered with stress and anxiety, unanswered questions, heartaches and trying to explain symptoms for which words don’t exist.

When you have an invisible illness, there is a certain pain associated with not looking sick. Included are physical symptoms that you learn not to advertise. There are times when you feel really good…..so good – you absolutely overextend yourself. The next day you’re wiped out, literally. The life ring would come in handy about then. Still you keep going. I’m not sure how you persevere but you do. The way you feel is definitely inexplicable.

I was diagnosed with MS almost 20 years ago. Looking back, I wonder how I could have possibly come as far as I have. How was I a single mom all that time? I’m sure I did an acceptable job as a mom, but I wonder if it would have been different had I not been diagnosed with MS. Certainly all of us have wondered “what if?” at times for all sorts of reasons.

Then again, I feel extremely fortunate that I’m simply alive. I’m not sure what my point is, but I do know I have to keep going. As they say, “only the broken wave can know the ocean.”

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You really can’t make this stuff up. I truly believe that. Some days your biggest supporter is your pet. Your greatest advocate, though, can be you. Difficult days can drain you, sometimes you feel unreliable, confused and just plain useless. It usually takes me the whole weekend to become whole again after a long week. And, stress can destroy you. Any stress.

I have a difficult time explaining that to anyone. Stress can drain anyone, but when you have MS, symptoms are magnified by a trillion. One would have to really sit and think about that to understand what I mean.

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More than anything, I know that when you keep going good things happen too. If the goal was more difficult to obtain, the reward then is sweeter than you can imagine. Even though some days I can’t see the forest for the trees, I know there is a beach somewhere waiting for me to be on it.

In the mean time, I keep dreaming, believing, hoping and surviving. I keep going, long after I think I can’t.

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