Sunday, June 26, 2016

A house doesn't make the home

Back when I wrote this post, in 2008, I knew that house would not be our forever home.  There was no way I could send my children to Toledo schools.  At that time, they were failing and I wanted more for Cadence.  Even when Whitney lived with us, I sent her to a charter school, rather than TPS. 

But...that house...I LOVED that house.  It was built in 1901 and had BEAUTIFUL woodwork.  The banister made my heart melt the first time we walked in.  The pocket doors and gorgeous floors were things I dreamed of.  I used to sit quietly in the living room and imagine the people who lived here in the early 1900's.  What the house looked like at that each room must have been decorated.  I love history.

When we lost that house, due to Westhaven, I was devastated.  Yes, I knew we weren't going ot live there forever, BUT I hadn't planned on losing all our money on an investment we didn't know was illegal. 

When I got a text yesterday, from a friend of mine, that it was on fire and probably wouldn't make it, my heart sank.  I may not live there anymore, but had great memories and knew the inside was beautiful...or at least had been at one time. 
We decided to drive over and take a look.

My eyes teared up as I watched, my once dream home, being ravaged by flames.  As we were driving up Detroit Ave to Central, the smoke, about 10 blocks away, was overwhelming.  As we approached the intersection, which was blocked off, the scene was something out of a movie.  the smell was horrid.

I went up behind one of the buildings across the street from the house and watched as the firemen put out the raging fire.  My eyes teared up.  No, we don't live there, no, I hadn't planned on living there forever...and no, my memories were not destroyed with the flames...but a piece of my heart was tied to that house.  It was the first 'real' house we bought.  It was where we brought Whitney home, it was where Cadence took her first steps and fell in love with 'Popper' (Harry Potter). 

This home was where Dennis & I rested our weary bodies after working all day and dreamed of our future.  It housed many foster dogs & cats until they found their forever homes.

So, I KNOW this house wasn't ours anymore and hadn't been for 8 yrs, but that didn't make me love it any less.

Thank you, 'big white house' for amazing memories and sheltering us for the 4 years we lived there.

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Happy 1st Birthday, handsome boy

I cannot believe you are one, today, Christopher Keith!  Maybe it's b/c you were born in TX, so to pop-pop & I, you have only aged since you have been home.  That is silly, I know. 

When we met you, four short months ago, we fell in love immediately!  You are the spitting image of your father, with the blondest hair and bluest eyes.  You melt my heart when you smile. 

I look forward to watching you grow and loving on you even more.  Always know,  Mimi will do anything for you & loves you more than you will ever understand.


Love, Mimi, Pop-pop, Aunt Fafa, & Aunt Buggy

Saturday, June 4, 2016

‘Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem’ Phil Donahue

For months, Greg has been depressed.  My mom has taken him to a shrink and to his dr.  They have tried different meds and therapy.  Recently, his heart went into a-fib and it scared him.  It was a sign of his mortality.  Even though he was only 69, he was starting to realize his age was slowing him down.  This really bothered him.

One day he called my mom at work and said he had a nightmare.  He dreamt he killed himself…it was two different ways.  One he drank round up…the other was he hung himself.  My mom went home to be with him b/c she was worried.  They talked about it and he admitted it wasn’t a nightmare…it was something he was considering.

My mom was scared and called the dr.  They up’ d his meds and sent him home.  She begged him to let her know if he had any suicidal thoughts again.  He said he would tell her. 

Monday morning, she left for work.  He was still sleeping.  She had tried to call him a few times that day to see how he was doing.  He never answered.  On her way home from work that evening, she was caught on the turnpike behind an accident.  She was frustrated b/c she just wanted to get home.

She got home and was confused as to why Greg’s car was blocking the garage, where she normally parked.  She got out of the car and went to the back of the garage (his garage is huge – it has a back room and then 3 large bays) and opened the door and hollered in for him.  It was dark and he didn’t respond. 

She went into the house and it was dark as well.  She started to get scared that he had committed suicide and slowly walked into each room, calling his name.  As she entered the last room, she closed her eyes, scared of what she would find.  But it was empty.  She sighed, relieved he was ok, assuming he was in the back part of the garage working on the car.

She went into the garage, entered the first bay and turned on the lights.  He was standing there, with his back to her.  She said, why are you standing here in the dark?  He didn’t respond.  She said, Greg.  What are you doing?

At this point her eyes adjusted to the light and she realized his feet weren’t on the ground.  He was hanging from the engine hoist that is attached to his ceiling.  She ran over to him to see if he was still alive, but sadly, he was not.

She called me…Dennis answered my phone, we were eating dinner and it was closest to him.  I could only hear his end ‘what? he did what?  Who killed himself?  What?! Greg killed himself?!’.  I flew out of my chair and started getting on my shoes and told him to tell her I was on my way.  I grabbed my keys, he threw me my phone and I was out the door in seconds.

It was the longest drive to Swanton, I’ve ever made.  It takes about 35 minutes to get to their house, that day it seemed like it took hours.  I was worried she was alone with him for so long, but luckily my aunt had made it out there quickly, as well as the sheriffs. 

It was a long night…my mom was such a mess.  His family came over, he has 6 siblings, and they were more concerned with getting rid of all of his stuff, than the fact that his body was still hanging 40 ft away, while we waited for the coroner to arrive.


My grandfather killed himself when my mom was 19.  Now she had to live through it again, 40 years later, only in a different role.  I wanted to take her pain away, but that isn’t possible, so I was just there for her.

Sadly, his family insisted she move from the home she had lived in for 4 yrs, b/c legally, it was now theirs. 

I know it’s going to take time for her to heal, but I hope her pain subsides a little more every day because her sadness makes all of us hurt for her.

If you EVER, EVER, feel like there is no fixing it and you just want it to end, please…please talk to someone.  The pain you leave behind is unfathomable and the questions and blame your loved ones feel is gut wrenching.
Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255