Memories

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

pattyalcala Children's Chronic illnesses, GRIEF, I AM NOT SICK BOY, MY BLOGS, STRAWBERRIES FOREVER , , , , , , , , , ,

Today is January 1, 2016. It is a day like any other day. The sun shines through my bedroom window, my birds twitter and flit with excitement and I sit at my desk collecting my thoughts, wondering what I will write about today. The truth is that today is unlike every other day of the year. It is the first day of January, the month that haunts me every year for the past eleven years. That is when the devastation and decline took a hold of me and my life.

It was January 26, 2005, when the man who had stood beside me for thirty years was mercilessly killed in a Metro Link collision. A man with the same first name as my sweet husband, Manuel, was seeking sympathy from his wife. His plan was to convince her that he had committed suicide. He securely locked his truck between the railroad tracks, stepped out and commenced pouring gasoline inside and outside of his vehicle creating a bomb with the ability of killing and maiming many passengers. The engineer was hurrying from station to station in the darkness of the predawn hour, unable to see the trap that lay ahead on the tracks. The truck blew up on contact with the fire lighting up the morning sky. My husband was burned and melted into his seat while listening to his favorite music while the killer ran away and mingled in the crowd that had formed to watch the chaos and destruction. That was the day that the life that was mine for so many years was gone in an instant. This new world that I walked through was void of color, happiness and purpose. I was thrown to my knees in despair.

There was always one thing that remained a constant in my life. That was caring for my son, Alex. My time was filled with Emergency Room visits, doctors’ appointments, and medical procedures. He was born with many chronic illnesses that required constant attention. His father’s death hit Alex hard. His health deteriorated quickly. There were soon PICC lines, G-Tube placements and feedings, stronger narcotics for the unyielding pain, a byproduct of the surgeries and then his memory loss and confusion. There are no words to explain what it is to watch your child waste away before your eyes. He broke loose from his worldly chains on January 11, 2008, to be with his dad. I went to his room to wake him for a doctor appointment and found him cold and blue. My attempts at CPR were futile. My heart broke into a million shards of glass that I would walk through for years to come.

My children, Max, my amazing son and Crystal, my beautiful daughter, were there supporting me every step of every day of finding who I was supposed to be. It took years of hard work and therapy to finally see a light peeking through the darkness giving me direction. It came in small, baby steps. I started this blog and realized how much I missed writing. That was the beginning. I wrote about me, about Alex, about medical issues. I was changing. My life was changing. I found some wonderful friends here who encouraged me along the way until I started to believe in myself again. Last year I founded a nonprofit Organization Making Change For Children to help children with complex medical issues and their devoted families in memory of my Alex. This new year of 2016, I resolve to make a difference in the lives of many by continuing to network, attend webinars, writing a new workbook for the families and launch a new pod cast. I see so much hope in this coming year.

I wish you all an amazing New Year with lots of Hope and many Miracles!

MY MEMORIES LIVE ON

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https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/burning-down-the-house/

My first thoughts while reading today’s prompt, ‘Burning Down the House’ was that my answer would have been so much different if it was 12 years ago.  My list would be long, my trunk full, and a panic in my heart.  The first thing I would have grabbed would have been my grandmother’s bowls, then the watercolors that I worked so hard on, the writings and poems that I had saved since third grade.  I would have never forgotten my wedding dress (twenty year’s old) with the white platform shoes that matched.  Of course, it would not be possible to go anywhere without all of my children’s doodles and drawings, ribbons and trophies. On the bottom of that list would be clothes for the family, food or practical supplies.

Here I am today and my life has changed, priorities have changed and my attachment to things has changed.  Although I was abandoned as a child, suffered many losses in my young life, and my body and my heart had endured unthinkable abuses, the loss of my husband is what turned my world dark and cold, without a desire to go on.  I lost interest in everything and everyone.  And in the midst of my grief three years later my youngest son’s bright light was dampened.  Then I mourned for two of the most beautiful people in my life.

Today is a brand new day.  I finally have hope, freedom and even happiness.  I have found what is truly important to me.  The things in my life are lovely, but nothing I couldn’t live without.  Now I live for my passion of helping children, and for my most precious children, Maximillian and Crystal Amor, and the relationships that I have with the other extraordinary people in my life.

Now, on this day, if my house was burning to the ground and I knew that my sister, mother-in-law, dog, cat and four birds were safe, I would take my medicines, photos, a quilt made by my mother-in-law with my husband’s old shirts and my computer.  Yes there would be beautiful things and sweet memories to be gone, but my mind would hold all of them locked inside. I have not lost them.  They come with me wherever I go.

TEN YEARS LATER

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Manuel and PattyToday is the tenth anniversary since my sweet husband’s death.

I wrote him a letter from my heart to his:

My Sweet, Sweet Manuel,

Each morning I awaken to the beautiful sight of the sun shining through the stained glass piece in my room of you and me two weeks before our wedding. It brings me comfort and a smile to my face. I can still smell the essence of you, feel the tender touch of your soft hands, and hear the sweet and funny words in my ear. It is not at all what I imagined it would be like at this point of the journey. The beautiful spirit of ‘My Manuel’ lives on for me. You encourage me, light my way in the dark, and remain by my side.

These past ten years I have been relearning how to walk, talk, and see in a world without you. In the genesis of this unwanted journey, I felt as though our beautiful, intricate tapestry of our lives that we had lovingly sewn over thirty years, one fine stitch at a time, had thoroughly unraveled leaving me cold and alone. Today I see that the fragments of our story remain intact. Tapestries are made with two threads, the weft and the waft. It is made sturdy enough to endure any manner of tragedy it is presented with. The miracle is that the fabric does not deteriorate or fall apart at the seams. No. It goes through a process of metamorphoses.  Not unlike the butterfly, our masterpiece is hidden in a cocoon for a time to merge the past with the present. We are all still a family, the five of us. That will never change. What is so clear to me today is that the bond that fuses me to Max and Crystal has been fortified, I see a future for us, we have new goals and aspirations. Thank you for choosing “us”.