…continued from part 1

Part 2
Between my health issues and being on disability, the last thing I needed or could afford was a vet bill…but off to kitty emergency we went. After running a few tests, they decided to treat her for “kitty vertigo.” This was the first time I had to disclose her name…publicly, and yeah, I got ‘the look.’

Don’t judge…there’s a story behind it.

Filthy’s doctor said if she showed no signs of improvement within a few days she would have to return. “It could be something very serious, possibly an issue with her brain.” My heart sank but I remained optimistic. As I wrote out the check…that would drain my account, I wondered how long the boys and I would be able to survive without food. I was kinda wishing I would have saved that Chow Mein Noodle. They gave me drops and a bottle of pills for her and we were on our way. As I walked out the door, I was reminded the drops must be refrigerated.

Her next dose was due six hours later. The pill went down without incident. The drops? Not so much. As I put the drops in each ear, she turned into Ninja Kitty, biting, scratching and shaking her head. I don’t think any of it actually made it to it’s destination. We went through the same routine the following morning and again six hours later. I couldn’t really tell if she was improving or not, she spent most of the time sleeping and I kept her litter box and food (yes, at least the animals were still eating!) close by her so she really didn’t have to walk much. I was getting concerned about the drops though, as they seemed to end up everywhere but in her ears. I couldn’t blame her for going “Ninja Kitty,” who would want ice cold liquid forced into their ear canal? Apparently not Filthy… I decided to call a pharmacy, explain the situation and see if there was any way the drops could be kept and room temp. Obviously there has to be a solution, this can’t be the first “Ninja Kitty” story they’ve encountered. As I dial the phone, I pull the bottle out; Administer Orally every six hours. Orally…Orally…Orally…

Don’t judge…there’s a story behind it.

Hold me. Did Filthy McNasty have a better chance of survival in the wild than she did with me? I called a friend in tears,
“I…I…have been putting the drops…”
“Yeah?”
“…in her ears…”
“Right?”
“…the bottle says…”
“Uh huh?”
“orally, it says orally!”
You could have heard a pin drop.
Then, in a well you’re not so bright tone of voice, asks,
“You called the vet, right?”
“AND TELL THEM?”
Like I really needed PETA showing up at my door during my emotional breakdown. The story did have a happy ending, Filthy fully recovered from “kitty vertigo” and me. I learned a valuable lesson, never to assume I know what I’m doing (almost never.) Little did we know, this was just a minor bump in the long road ahead.

Rex and his ‘adopted’ sister became great little playmates. He slowly taught her all the kitty basics, e.g. playing, grooming herself, taking over the household. I was still dealing with health issues and spent much of my time sleeping. With the kids in school all day, I’m glad they had each others companionship. I came home one day and found Filthy to be somewhat lethargic. She had vomited a few times so I called the vet. They said it sounded like she may have a touch of the flu and to just keep an eye on her for a few days. Without going into great detail, by the next morning it was clear our little princess was very sick! The vet wanted me to bring her in for testing. After learning what the tests would entail, and the cost…my heart sank. Still on disability, finances were still an issue. I consulted with a few other vets via phone, they all told me the same thing. Filthy was symptomatic of Feline Leukemia, which could also be passed on to Rex. I had a big decision to make. I was home alone and I was hysterical. I called my vet back for reassurance, advice, for anything! With her symptoms, not knowing her history and my financial situation, there was no reassurance and the only advice they could give me was to be mindful of my other cat, of Rex. This was all happening so fast.

Filthy had made her way into a bathroom cupboard and was curled up behind a stack of towels, As I approached her, she looked at me with her big gold eyes in the most apologetic way. As Rex and I sat with her, I made a phone call that, to this day literally rips my heart into a million little pieces.

The following is a letter I later wrote to the head of SPCA in my state;

When you think of the Humane Society, you think of an organization dedicated to helping animals. Whether it be finding a home for an abandon animal or helping to reunite a lost pet with it’s owner, this is who we trust to help our animals. If you cannot trust them whom can you trust? After this past week’s experience, I now question their humanity.

…continue part 3

I started this awhile back and it ended up being significantly longer than I had anticipated. I decided it would be best to break it down into parts, hopefully not too many…but this little fur ball has quite an amazing story of love, courage, determination and survival!

Part 1
I have been going through my external hard drive, doing some much needed cleaning, sorting and organizing. Many of the files are off to cyber trash, a few are pending…then there’s those that are absolutely priceless and bring back a rush of memories, the good, the bad and the ugly.
I have 2 cats I love to pieces. (most of the time) Both are Persians, both were strays. Oliver is the newest addition and has been part of the family for about 2 1/2 years. He is big, grey, has the most adorable face ever and loves to be the center of attention. I’ve had my little girl for about 9 1/2 years. She is black, petite, shy, a little on the clumsy side and will win her heart over in the bat of an eye. Her name is…Filthy. I have tried unsuccessfully over the years to rename her, but she is and always will be, Filthy.
While cleaning out my hard drive, I was reminded of exactly how Filthy McNasty got her name. And had I known then what I know now, her name would have been “Filthy Clumsy Was Kidnapped Almost Killed 3 Times McNasty”

Don’t judge…there’s a story behind it.

One evening my kids opened the front door, promptly shutting it again.
“Somethings on our porch.”
“Someone or something?”
“Something, something nasty.”
I opened the door long enough to get a glimpse and slammed it shut.
“What do you think it is?” my kids asked
“I don’t know, but it moved, do not go out there!”
We waited a few minutes and quickly peaked again, it was dark outside but I could tell it had it’s tail…back…or some sort of appendage towards me.
“It probably has rabies, huh mom?”
“I don’t know…”
“Bet it’s a dirty old skunk or raccoon full of diseases.”
“I don’t know…”
We looked again a few minutes later. I’m pretty sure by then my kids had their hockey sticks in hand and helmets secured. As I opened the door, ‘it’ turned around and looked at us with these big, round, gold eyes, my heart melted. “It’s a cat you guys! Disarm yourselves at once!”
As fast as my heart melted, it disappeared into the night. For the next week or so, this little black ball of fur would invade our porch every night, but as soon as we opened the door, it was gone. The kids had started putting out food and water for it and it had started spending more and more time visiting, eventually allowing us near it.
“Touch it.”
“No, you touch it.”
I finally interjected,
“I will touch it!”
As I went to pet it, I let out a scream. There was what appeared to be a worm nestled in it’s array of knots. “Boys, do you want to try and get that out?” I asked as if it would be a privilege. As they both disappeared into the house I started thinking they may have been on to something, that hockey gear was sounding pretty good right about now. After much debate, we got an old pair of tongs and went to work. Much to our delight that ‘worm’ turned out to be a Chow Mein Noodle, probably one of the many souvenirs it had gathered while dumpster diving. This was the closest we had ever to get to it and it was then one of my kids looked at me and said, “it’s filthy” in which my other son replied, “it’s nasty!” Filthy McNasty now had a name.

Filthy had taken up full time residency on our porch. It had been a few months since she first appeared and it didn’t look like she was going anywhere soon. Her sweet demeanor had made her somewhat of a celebrity within the neighborhood. As much as I’d grown to “love” her, I already had a cat, a turtle, 2 kids and I was dealing with some pretty serious health issues. The last thing I wanted or needed to do was take on anymore responsibilities or financial burdens.
We continued to give her food and water and in return she now allowed us to scratch her head…which is truly the only part of her we were brave enough to touch. Filthy McNasty was as content as could be residing on the “bed” she had made on the porch, but she deserved more. I tried in vain to find someone I knew and trusted that would be able to give her the home and love she needed, that…wasn’t working out so well. One night I was sitting on the porch watching her “play” and without warning, she jumped in my lap. I freaked out, again wishing I was outfitted in my kids hockey gear. As guilty as I feel about it now, I quickly booted her back down. If she can harbor Chow Mein noodles in those knots, what else is in there? Through that brief encounter I did realize something very important, Filthy McNasty had been de-clawed. My search for a home went into overdrive. How long could she survive without being able to defend herself? How had she made it this long?

That same week I returned home on a very cold night and found her on the porch whimpering. She was cold, wet and shivering. Someone had drenched her with a hose. I grabbed a few old beach towels, wrapped her up like a baby and held her close to me. Before I knew it, she was purring and falling asleep. Every so often she would show her gratitude by licking my hand. I held her for a few hours…not wanting to ever let go. So innocent, so alone and treated with such cruelty. It had been almost 7 months since she had found us and her persistence was paying off. It was clear, she just wanted someone to love her.

I called the groomers first thing the following morning to make her an appointment. I explained the situation to them briefly and made them aware her hair was severely knotted. I went out the following morning with a new little kennel, gathered Filthy from her bed on the porch and off we went. At this point we had all grown fond of her and were excited to make her a part of the family. The groomers however took one look at her and my excitement quickly turned to concern. “…we have never seen anything this bad…probably can’t do anything to help her…call your vet, she will probably have to be put under to remove the mats…” Tears welled up in my eyes quickly, after inspecting her a little closer and seeing how calm she was, they decided the would at least try. I might have even hugged them…or kissed them…or both. When I arrived back a few hours later to pick her up, I must have looked at her a dozen times and had no idea it was Filthy, Filthy McNasty. She was sooo clean, sooo tiny…sooo Chow Mein Noodle free!!! The groomers were in awe of how she let them work their magic. Just like she had done with me, she showed her gratitude by occasionally licking their hands. Feeling clean, content and loved, she curled up in a ball on my lap and we started our drive HOME!
Coming into the house, I now faced  the task of introducing Rex to his new adopted sister. I did not anticipate this to go over well as he pretty much ruled the house, it was, however as if they were and had always been the best of friends. She explored every inch of the house prancing around like the little princess she had become…until the boys got home. I would like to think it was laughter of joy and delight to see Filthy’s “new look,” she didn’t see it that way and we spent the next 15 minutes coaxing her out from under the bed.

Sometime within the next month, we woke up to find our little princess staggering, she could not take more than two steps without falling…clearly, Filthy was very sick.

…continue part 2

The following is a guest post by Heather Von St. James. Heather is a 5-year survivor of malignant mesothelioma. I feel honored to have the opportunity to use What’s Left Of My Head as a platform for her to offer inspiration to cancer patients and allow her to broaden their sense of optimism, awareness, and support.

By: Jackie Clark, assistant to Heather Von St. James

According to the  National Cancer Institute, mesothelioma, a cancer primarily associated with difficulty breathing, is “a rare type of cancer in which malignant cells are found in the lining of the chest or abdomen.” But for those who are familiar with the disease, mesothelioma is more than just another form of cancer. That’s largely because a diagnosis of mesothelioma can often be traced to something that has happened in the workplace: exposure to asbestos.

Nowadays, the dangers of exposure to asbestos have been well documented. Unfortunately, because the disease can lie dormant for a long period of time, many people who were exposed to asbestos years ago, before the dangers of exposure were fully known, are only now discovering that they have mesothelioma. To make matters worse, mesothelioma life expectancy can be adversely affected by the latent nature of the disease, which allows it to grow undetected, establishing a foothold in the body long before its presence is known.

But there is hope. There are treatments for mesothelioma, including surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, vaccine therapy and immunotherapy. And, while there are several factors outside the control of the mesothelioma sufferer that can influence the outcome of treatment – for example, the size and aggressiveness of the growth and whether the cancer is localized – there are things that can be done to maximize the patience’s chances of long-term survival. While there are no guarantees, patients who eat a healthy diet and who work to maintain a good fitness level may have an improved chance of beating the disease.

Naturally, any mesothelioma sufferer who can trace their cancer back to asbestos exposure years before the discovery of their disease wishes they could travel back in time to warn themselves, but the reality is that while what you don’t know can indeed hurt you, what you do know can also help you.

The bottom line here is that while there really are no guarantees, there is no form of cancer that is always one hundred percent fatal. And, while some cancers are more deadly than others, there are usually treatment options, even when the cancer has been able to avoid detection for an extended period of time. The key is to become educated about the available treatment options while maintaining a healthy lifestyle and a positive attitude in order to fight the disease.

Thank you so much for sharing Heather!
You can read Heather’s full story here

This past February I posted the following,
I lived at the beach for the summer with one of my best friends in the world. There aren’t enough words to express how the time, the feelings, the experiences and the memories have changed my life. Yesterday I made a video journal with a few of the highlights documenting that time…

The feedback was overwhelming…I received several emails and messages about the video. Some asking the story behind it, others simply letting me know it had touched a part of their heart. I responded via email, doing my best to explain what it means to me. One of the responses I recently received suggested I share this story with the video. The story, however continues, as I have made some great new friends because of it!

Putting it in perspective…
One of the reasons I chose to do a video journal vs writing about my summer in Ventura, is I often found myself using the word indescribable when referring to it. It will be challenging for me to put into words…but I will do my best.

There is nothing in this world to me more hypnotic than the ocean…the sight, the sound, the smell, the life that exists within it. The ocean is plenty and I could go many places, but the peacefulness I experience in Ventura is like something I’ve never experienced before. Indescribable. It is a place I have always found a sense of peace. It was there I took my wig and scarves off, and for the first time was able to go out in public and hold my head high. That peace, however would somehow slowly diminish once I returned to reality, home. I was complacent in a world, where hindsight, I merely existed.

Last April I lost an aunt that I was extremely close to. Knowing it had been a significant source of comfort for me in the past, my mom encouraged me to plan a trip to Ventura after the funeral. My aunts ashes were to be scattered the day after I had arrived there. With that in mind I woke the following morning with a sense of guilt and of course, strong emotions. I walked aimlessly along the beach seeking the strength I needed to carry me through the day, I drove around, I walked along the pier, it was one of the hardest days of my life. As I walked from the pier back to my car, I stopped and sat on a bench to take a few pictures, it wasn’t until I was walking away did I notice a plaque that read “Strength” mounted on the bench I had been sitting on. I had, in a sense, found that strength.

I spoke to my mom on the way back to the beach, my aunt’s ashes had been spread, and final goodbyes had been spoken. As I situated myself and my camera on the beach, I realized there wasn’t another person in sight which was both eerie and refreshing. It was a safe place for me to say my final goodbyes, alone. I had sat with her alone for a few hours just before she passed away and I was now recounting what I did and did not say to her. What she may of heard and what she didn’t. I wondered if she knew what an inspiration she was to me…how thankful I was to have her in my life. Did I thank her enough for being one of the only people in the world who stood by my side and loved me unconditionally during these years I’ve struggled? In so many ways she gave me the hope and the courage I needed when I couldn’t find it within myself.

“If there’s one thing in my life that’s missing, it’s the time I spend alone, sailing on the cool and bright clear waters. It’s kind of a special feeling when you’re out on the sea alone…”

As I sat there, I noticed 4 dolphins down the beach a ways heading north. It was about that time of day, which usually meant there would be more following not far behind. I grabbed my camera, sat and waited for them to get closer. As they approached the 1st of the 2 jetties I was sitting between, they changed their direction heading towards the shore. For the next 30 minutes I sat, watched and photographed one of the most amazing sights I had ever seen. They jumped, twirled, swam on their back, splashing their tail fins about as they dove under water. Still alone on the beach, I had never felt so “at one” with nature, I had a calmness I forgot existed. Instinctively I called my aunt to share what had just witnessed, her voice mail picked up. The first thing that came to mind was, ‘she already knows.’ I call those pictures, Angels in Flight.

“Now that my life is so pre-arranged, I know that it’s time for a cool change.”

As reality set back in, I had what I would best describe as an “Ah-ha” moment. It reiterated to me, there is life beyond pain. Beauty beyond darkness. Hope beyond despair. I had sought out strength and peace to get me through the day. In a sense I had found them both…and so much more. I was alone on the beach…I was alone. I was in complete control…I was in control. It was a thought, feeling, a concept, emotion, a vision that was so freeing and so refreshing. Falling down is part of life, getting back up is living. It was time for me to get back up, to start living, and nobody was going to stop me.

It’s ironic you say “knowing what I know life’s experience for you has many colors.” I had not thought of it that way until recently. I think that holds true for all, however the shades and quantity of those color vary. For years, my life seemed monotonous, the colors, monotone. With each passing day and experience in Ventura, the colors became more vibrant, more abundant. My eyes had opened to a whole new world, beyond four walls and beyond my illness. As much as I embrace it, I don’t believe my appreciation would be as great had I not started with a monotone palette. A lot  of the pictures in the video simply represent the beauty I was not only seeing, but feeling.

Without black, no color has any depth. But if you mix black with everything, suddenly there’s shadow – no, not just shadow, but fullness. You’ve got to be willing to mix black into your palette if you want to create something that’s real. ~Amy Grant

“I know it may sound selfish, but let me breathe the air”

There is a picture of me in the video at about 3:05. I was walking along the beach taking pictures and an elderly man walked up to me. He reached out for my camera and said, “Do you mind? You look so happy and so at peace, I would love to capture it, for you.” He took the picture and walked away. I posted it on Facebook that day. Comments ranged from my mom, ‘Is this my daughter? You look so happy’ to ‘It’s so good to see you smile…really smile again.’ Another one, ‘Don’t ever come back, I love seeing you so happy.’  It made me cry. It made me smile. It made me more determined…to focus on me. I spent the following 3 months doing just that.

Each new day welcomed me with something new. An adventure, a sight, a person, a feeling, a once in a lifetime experience. My childhood dream was to be a Marine Biologist. Having the opportunity to interact with Sea Lions this trip gave me a piece of that dream. Sitting alone in the water for 4 hours in the middle the night while holding and comforting a dying Sea Lion gave me a sense of purpose, of worthiness. Something I had not felt in a long time. Taking on the commitment of watching over beached Sea Lions as they rested and healed…for up to 5 days, and keeping that commitment gave me a sense of responsibility. Being asked to photograph a man and his dying dog as a keepsake for him gave me a sense of pride. Sitting around a bonfire and talking with 2 drifters about “life” gave me a sense of appreciation. Laughing endlessly and having heart to heart talks with a friend I’ve cherished for over 20 years gave me a sense of joy, a sense of belonging. Taking a stand and doing what I needed to do for ME, gave me a sense of confidence. Going off all my medications, on my own, gave me a sense of control….

What started out as a much needed weeks get away, turned into a 3+ months journey. The simplicity, the beauty, the freedom, the calmness, the experiences…they touched my life, they changed my life. I had wanted to do a video journal for months but there wasn’t a single song I could think of that could even begin to convey the feeling behind the pictures until I remembered “Cool Change.” It somehow, in my mind put in all in perspective.

“Well I was born in the sign of water and it’s there that I feel my best. The albatross and the whales they are my brothers. It’s kind of a special feeling, when you’re out on the sea alone…starin’ at the full moon like a lover”

Like I said, one of the reasons I chose to do a video journal vs writing about my summer in Ventura, is I often found myself using the word indescribable when referring to it…it is challenging for me to put into words…

Some days I smile…some days I cry…others, I find myself still processing the reality of it. But there has not been one day I have not thought about you, missed you or talked to you.

It was 365 days ago today I lost a piece of my heart, my aunt, one of my best friends. I have struggled these past few weeks, mindful this day was approaching. This is a text message I received to help get me through the day, I am really holding on to these words…

“O.K. Chin up She’s looking over you and it would make her smile to SEE you doing good and happy.”

…………….

Aunt Bobbie,
I miss…
your smile
your infectious giggle
your shoulder to cry on.

I miss…
your Spice Drop Cookies (I might even miss your Waldorf Salad…k, maybe not)
your unconditional love
your words of wisdom.

I miss…
the encouragement and inspiration you gave me to write. I have lost that passion
our marathon phone calls and your ability to listen as much as I talked. (You would love the barely-holds-a-charge battery I have now!!!)
our “code words” that I could never remember. (Seriously, translating ‘How do your eyes feel?’ into ‘I need help!’ could happen to anyone!)
how you forgave so easily.

I miss…
spraying “Phuket” body spray on ourselves when we were having a bad day.
you, making me laugh
making you laugh
you telling me everything would be o.k…and making me believe it.

I miss…
hearing your voice
hugging you

I miss…
you.

I’m going to do my best today to keep my chin up. You’re looking over me…I want to make you smile…SEE…I’m doing o.k…I’m good…I’m happy. 

I love you,

…with a few words and a little twist.

I lived at the beach for the summer with one of my best friends in the world. There aren’t enough words to express how the time, the feelings, the experiences and the memories have changed my life. Yesterday I made a video journal with a few of the highlights documenting that time…

The following links provide more detail for some of those amazing, life changing, moments…
Angels In Flight
Life Lessons…by Oscar
The Seal Whisperes
Rocking The Red Suit Again
Incredible Memories
Enjoy…

Blast from the past…
Originally posted Nov. 20, 2008

On my honor, I will try: to serve God and my country….Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so….in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice…grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can…I have the right to remain silent, anything I say can be used against me….I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States….I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth ….forgive me Father for I have sinned….bad boy, bad boy, what’cha gonna do when they come for you…

With racing thoughts and that feeling of an impending doom, the second it happened my body went into anxiety mode.

I then caught a quick glimpse of my future…..

Fortunately, the logical part of me stepped back in, and brought me back to reality.

You know the little things you would hear as a child, “if you step on a crack, you’ll break your mama’s back.” You’re pretty sure that’s not going to happen, but err with caution just in case. As an adult you know it’s not possible….but occasionally that inner child kicks back in. You find yourself, secretly making an effort to step over that crack ahead of you…for old times sake. When you first start noticing these hideous little things growing on your skin.
“They are freckles honey.”
“Well I don’t want freckles.”
“You don’t? Did you know that every time you get a new freckle, it means an Angel has kissed you?” So now you feel like the most loved child on earth. You begin to make a conscious effort to see if other kids had freckles….and how many. Now older and wiser, you know the truth but sometimes finding a new freckle can still bring a smile to your face.

I remember playing with a pillow one day while visiting my grandparents, holding it by the “tag” and dangling it around. My grandma said, “Be careful Annie, you might rip that off.” (Annie was my nickname growing up. It means “our favorite grandchild.” Or something.) I didn’t really know what the big deal was, but as usual, I complied. (that is how I earned all those Angel kisses!) Still playing around, obediently, I happened to look at the tag. That’s when I saw it, and it all made sense; Under Penalty of Law, This Tag Not To Be Removed. My grandma knew, she new what would happen to me if I ripped the “tag” off, I would go to jail! I had already pulled the “tag” off my very own pillow at home and now I’m a little worried. What if my mom found out…what if anyone found out? I held this little secret close to my heart for awhile, not even out of grade school and I was already a law-breaker. I eventually confided to my best friend. She laughed hysterically at me until I showed her the “tag” on her pillow. We read it together, Under Penalty of Law, This Tag Not To Be Removed, in smaller letters underneath it said, Except By The Consumer
“What’s a consumer?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think I’m old enough to be one though.”
It took some investigating, but I did find out….I was a consumer. Still didn’t really know what that meant, but I knew I was one of ‘em! So much for grandma wanting to spare my future as a convict, she was just worried about her damn pillow!

But the little “what if’s” remain. What if…I stepped on a crack, what if…the neighbor had more freckles than me, what if….I pulled the tag off my pillow? See the pattern? See it? Something is telling me O.C.D. has played a bigger part in my life than I care to admit! So yes, today, when I ACCIDENTALLY yanked the tag clean from my pillow. The second it happened my body went into anxiety mode, with racing thoughts and that feeling of an impending doom. But, I’m O.K, Annie’s O.K. As fast as the anxiety came, reality set back in.

Now older and (so much) wiser, I know the truth. But occasionally I like finding a new freckle or secretly making an effort to step over that crack ahead of me. Apparently I’m still working on that consumer/tag thing though.

As I finish writing this, I’m kinda feeling a little anxious again. Just wondering…did I unconsciously pass this down to another generation? I don’t remember, did I or didn’t I ever tell my kids that their stuffed animals don’t really turn into Angels that watch over them once they’re asleep? Do they know that the dancing light in the car isn’t really Tinkerbell, it’s the reflection from my watch? Do they know that it’s not really a law that you have to brush your teeth first thing in the morning? You know…they may even still wonder if the sun really hisses when it touches the ocean at sunset.

XOXO,

Hi. Damn cup.
Been awhile, again…I know. My cup continues to runneth over and ya, I’m still enjoying the flow. That’s good, right? In the last few weeks, my baby turned 24, and a week later I turned, well…a year older.
I also got to spend a few days in Ventura. Although I had a wonderful time, it was a little bittersweet. So many memories there! But…the place I called home is now occupied by a stranger. There are no papasan chairs on the patio, laughter can no longer be heard a block away and the garage is lacking chaos. Deanna, my Ventura roommate, my BFF, has since moved out of state. It was kinda heartbreaking, but I was in great company and it was so refreshing just to be there again. The only thing lacking? My camera. I know, huh? I beat myself up at first and soon realized how nice it was to just take in and enjoy my surroundings. I did however have my pee-pee cell phone camera and couldn’t resist a few shots! Go ahead…click on ‘em!

This was probably one of the best birthdays I’ve had in a long time (Especially when you compare it to the one that was forgotten a few years back….I know.) My day started with an incredibly special Happy Birthday text message sent to me at exactly 12:00 a.m. The continued love I felt throughout the day was overwhelming, I kinda felt like a Princess…Princess Heidi. My friends and family are just awesome. Holla! The celebration (of Princess Heidi) continued that weekend with a get together of friends, both old and new. When I say old, I’m so not friggin’ kidding! Some of them I have celebrated my birthday with since I was 15 years old, and now I’m, well…older. The picture to the left is at my 16th birthday, the one on the right from this birthday. There are 4 of the same people in each one, can you tell who’s who? And really…what birthday would be complete without a group signed birthday card that reads,
Te Quiero, Mamita? I also received one of thee most heartfelt and special gifts imaginable, one I will forever hold near and dear to my heart, a $5.00 gift card to McDonalds. Earlier this year, I wrote Confessions To An Angel, in honor of my aunt who passed away earlier this year. Here is a small portion of it,

It has been 48 days since my Aunt Bobbie passed away, yet the reality of it it still unfathomable. I often find myself picking up the phone to call her, or making a mental note about something I need to tell her. I miss her laugh, her words of wisdom. I miss talking to her, I miss her.
I sat with her for a few hours, alone, just before she passed away. I laughed, I cried. I told her it was o.k. to go, I threatened she better not leave me. I talked and talked and talked (as usual)…she listened, (as usual) occasionally squeezing my hand or just giving me a simple sigh, letting me know she was present in the conversation.
I don’t remember exactly what I did or didn’t say, but I know there was, and never will be enough time or words to say everything I wanted…or needed to say A few things I may…or may not have forgotten…
• I am sorry for draining your phone battery nearly every time we talked.
• I will miss my $5.00 gift certificates to McDonalds in my birthday card each year.
• Thank you for being my babysitter, my aunt and my friend.

As my friend handed me the card, he said, ‘I remember reading about your aunt and this was one of the things you were going to miss…’ I couldn’t tell you the conversation following that. I was so touched and so moved by the gesture, not only was I breathless, I was speechless….and if you know me, that’s a feat in itself! So thank you to this very special friend for remembering not only me, but my Aunt Bobbie as well! I told you my friends were awesome, I am truly blessed to have them in my life! Holla!
I have kinda always thought birthdays should last the whole month but I have yet been able to convince anyone else of that. The festivities have come and gone, the memories however will remain a lifetime! Here’s to another fun-filled year. I’m already looking forward to next year so I can once again feel like a Princess…Princess Heidi.