1440 Minutes

What’s in a day? For starters, one thousand four hundred and forty minutes, which sounds like a lot but in the end, is never enough. February 16^th, 2013 was no ordinary day and those 1440 minutes dramatically changed the landscape of many lives. What do I remember about those 1440 minutes? I remember the sounds of Trouper telling me he felt like he was drowning and I remember the nurse who told me if I couldn’t hold myself together I had to leave. I remember Trouper mouthing “I’m sorry and I love you” and I remember old Dr. Blincoe whose glasses always seemed to be at the end of his nose, which I despised at first but came to love as the years rolled by. I remember sitting on the floor of a hallway for what seemed like days, the same floor I would sit on the morning I said goodbye. I remember the faces of friends and family who rushed to be by our side; the look on TJ’s face as he said “Dara, I don’t think I can do this” and the sound of my Mom and Sister’s voices as they hugged me and said “don’t worry, we’re here”. What I remember most was bargaining with God. I know you’re not ever supposed to do that but I didn’t ask for much, just another 1440 minutes. God was listening and he gave us not only 1440 minutes, he gave us 1,802,880 minutes (3 years, 5 months and 2 days). I’m beyond grateful for every minute we were granted and while I would change a few things, for the most part I’m satisfied about the way our family, especially our Super Trouper, chose to live those minutes. He filled them with love, gratefulness, forgiveness, faith, reflection and hope. But, as the 1 Corinthians 13:13 tells us, the greatest of these was love. He gave and received love from all over the world, from people he’d never met, from people he hadn’t heard from in 30 years and from people who lived in the same house. So on the anniversary of the 1440 minutes that changed my life forever, I want to ask you for something. As my Mom said earlier today, live like Trouper. Not only live but love like Trouper. Even when he was at his worst, he still managed to let everyone know how he felt about them. Above all else, that was his greatest accomplishment in this life. He once said the love you give is the love you receive and that was a running theme in his life. He gave love and got love, and in the end, that love has carried me through the past 267840 minutes since I said “see ya soon”. Just remember, if you’re thinking about someone, let them know. If someone has hurt you in the past, forgive them and move on and if you love someone, don’t forget to say it, shout it, show it and mean it because this could be the last 1440 minutes you ever have with them. And this my friends, is what love looks like.......

Yesterday, Today and Especially Tomorrow

For almost four months, I've thought about this blog and what I would say or how it would end. My blog has been all about Trouper; our love, our struggles, our joys and our heartbreaks. I thought, did it end on July 13th, when he took his last breath or perhaps June 20th, when his fight took a different turn and he was placed on full life support? Then I remembered something we always said to one another; I love you yesterday, today and especially tomorrow. Just because he isn't physically here doesn't mean I can't continue to write about him, share stories and things about him that perhaps people might not know. I've also been contemplating a book; a book about our life together from the moment he saw me sitting in front of church, reading a note from another boy, to our last kiss on a warm, sunny July morning. A book I will call Yesterday, Today and Especially Tomorrow because that's what life is; it's full of yesterday's adventures, today's surprises and tomorrow's hope. Trouper was all three; he loved adventures and spent lots of his yesterday's seeking them out (and always had a story and often a scar from those adventures). He never ceased to amaze me with his daily surprises and he always had hope that a better tomorrow was on it's way. Once, he told me something that has really resonated with me the past four months; life is short and doesn't come with a pause or rewind button. Enjoy every moment; the good, the bad and the even worse and do it with love in your heart. He often told people (and it was said a few times at his memorial service) the love you give is the love you receive and I can certainly tell you that Trouper Gamble gave and received more love in his short 42 years than some do in 90 years. So, my friends, this isn't the end of the Team Super Trouper blog, it's just going to take a different path. One that he encouraged, and so many other people have encouraged; a book about our yesterdays, today's and our tomorrows. Bare with me while I test chapters out on you and please, feel free to offer suggestions and help because I need all of them I can get.

One last note. People continue to ask how the kids and I are doing. Truth is, it's a minute by minute type thing. You never know when grief will hit you and you become a blubbering mess and while I've been told it gets better, I can't even begin to imagine how. The three of us are surviving together. Trouper always had faith we would, he knew we were a strong family with an unfaltering love for one another. We have always relied on each other when things got tough and that's made us closer than most families. We've seen the bad but we've met that bad together. We've also had such an outpouring of love, support and prayers and for that, we are eternally grateful. Trouper touched so many people, and in the end, he wasn't just our Super Trouper he was the world's Super Trouper and I'm happy to share him.

XO Dara

House on Muskingum

Trouper has been in Texas for 30,240 minutes (or 21 days). I miss him terribly, especially at night. We don't often go to bed at the same time but at some point during the night, he always comes to bed and I feel he's there and sleep a little better. My sleep is now more restless than ever and I am either having very unusual dreams, or not sleeping at all. Last night, I dreamt of a place I don't think of much but holds a very special place in my heart; Muskingum.

My grandparents purchased 2119 N. Muskingum in 1947. It's where my mother grew up, where I spent every weekend growing up, where Ryan and I lived when he was born and where Trouper and I kissed for the first time. It's where our family celebrated good times like Christmases and birthdays, and gathered during difficult times like when my precious Papa went to heaven. Each Sunday, after church, my Grandma took her afternoon nap (in the back bedroom) while my Papa and I (often joined by my sister and brother) watched westerns, ate peanuts and drank Cokes. Before every prom or dance, we stopped by Muskingum to show off our pretty dresses to not only my Grandparents, but all our Muskingum family. Our Godmother, Dorothy Froelich, our adopted Aunt and Uncle, Hazel and Jack (who owned a HUGE peacock) and my friends Christina and Andy were just a few of the neighborhood family. Last night, I vividly dreamt of the time Dorothy paid my cousin Brad and I to clean her backyard. My Grandma had surgery and Brad and his family had come to town to visit. We decided we wanted to earn money to buy Grandma some flowers so we headed across the street and asked Dorothy if she had any chores we could do. She said yes, she needed her backyard cleaned so we headed out back and walked straight into a jungle. The weeds were taller than we were and you couldn't even see the back fence the brush was so dense. Brad and I pulled weeds for hours, until our little 10 and 8 year old bodies couldn't do it anymore. We had made a pretty good dent in the jungle and Dorothy rewarded us with 5 dollars. Not 5 dollars each, but 5 dollars together. We were pretty smart kids and knew we were getting ripped off but nonetheless, Aunt Glenda drove us to TG&Y. We didn't have nearly enough for the pretty flowers and vase, so my Aunt generously pitched in the rest. We never went back to finish the job, God only knows what that place looked like when Dorothy passed away in '99.

When my sister was born, during my parent's divorce, we lived next door and I was in heaven. I could walk next door to my Grandparent's house and eat breakfast (my Grandma made a HUGE breakfast every morning) or go over and sit in the front porch and people watch with all the neighbors. When I was 8 and my sister was 3, we got a baby brother. We were so happy, we ran outside, saw Dorothy sitting on her porch and yelled "we got a boy". We played slip and slide in the yard, walked to Dairy Queen for ice cream sandwiches and sat on the front porch for hours. It was a magical place and often, solace during times of trouble.

Perhaps that's why I visited it last night, my mind knew I needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere special, and comforting. It was my touchstone for so many years, in fact there aren't too many high school kids that spent every weekend with their grandparents but I did and I wouldn't trade a moment. Last night's visit to Muskingum worked it's magic and I feel a little better, and I'm ready to face whatever is headed my way with a smile and a warm heart, knowing that my family from Muskingum is looking down, smiling and cheering me on!

My boy

I feel like I write about Trouper and Emily much more than I do about Ryan. Perhaps that's because they are both sick, and seem to need me more than Ryan does. Maybe it's because he is my oldest child and the oldest children often get lost among the chaos of life, and younger siblings and sick parents. I know, I was the oldest child who had two younger, overachieving, often needy siblings and I was often lost. It happens, I'm not bitter and I've moved on but that's just the way it was on Hemphill Street, Odessa, Texas circa 1985. Today, I am going to write about Ryan who, just so happens, celebrated his 24th birthday yesterday.

Ryan began his journey on this earth at 4:21 on March 24th, 1992. I was 20 years old and scared to death. We knew there was something wrong with his kidney before he was born, but wouldn't know the extent until he made his entrance that warm, spring afternoon. It was spring break in Odessa, my sister was at home, my brother was off on a trip and I had been staying with my Mom and Stepdad awaiting Ryan's arrival. My contractions started pretty early that morning, so my Mom and I headed to the hospital. My OBGYN wasn't the greatest, in fact, he was kinda rude and looked down on single Moms but I made the best of it. I had some big decisions to make and he was strongly encouraging me to go in one direction and when I didn't go that route, he got worse. All that aside I was released a few days later and Ryan, the following Saturday. I remember that Friday, Kyna and I went to the hospital and sat rocking him for hours, I felt so bad leaving this little baby in the hospital alone. Luckily it was only for a day and the next, we started our journey together in the outside world. The following months were hard, Ryan had his kidney taken out on April 16th in Lubbock and two weeks after that I was back at work. I was never a bad Mom but I was so young and made mistakes, I'm just fortunate that Ryan allowed me to make those mistakes. He was a good baby, and when he did get fussy, we would drive him around and play the song "Under the Bridge" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers and it always calmed him down. Trouper and I got married when Ryan was 9 months old and we were ready to be a family. Emily came along three years later and he was immediately a protective big brother. Ryan was the first grandchild, the first nephew and has always been the apple of his families eye. My brother adored Ryan. When Ryan was 3, he got the chicken pox so severe they covered his body, even his throat and mouth. My brother came over and watched The Brave Little Toaster for hours with Ryan. I can still see both of them laying on the sofa, eating red (they had to be red) Popsicles. They were two peas in a pod and when I look at Ryan, I see so much of Bumper.

As the years rolled on Ryan played basketball and rugby, was a cub scout until he went to middle school and being a scout was uncool, and was in chorus all the way through his senior year. Ryan became more reserved over the years and, is the introvert of our family. That's not that hard when you live with Trouper, who is always the life of the party and probably doesn't even know the definition of introvert. We've been through some bad times but some really wonderful times with Ryan. He is a wiz at movie trivia, if you want to know a show to binge watch on Netflix, he's your guy and loves to go kayaking and relax on the water. More than anything, he is still a protector. Last year, after one of Em's hospital stays, he went and stayed with her for a week, driving her to class, making sure she ate, helping her with meds and hanging out and making sure she was taken care of. Even though he is an introvert, he excels at personal conversations. He would talk to anyone, anywhere and loves to talk to older people. When Trouper first had his heart attack Ryan struck up a friendship with a elderly man and would spend hours everyday talking to him. It helped pass the time and gave him an outlet. 

Now, my little boy is a man and facing challenges, decisions and adventures and I want nothing more than to see him succeed. I do wish he would find a nice girl to hang out with, even if she has tattoo's and piercings. He's so lovable even though people tell him all the time that he's handsome, I don't think he believes it. But I know 2016 is the year of Ryan, and as he celebrates his 24th trip around the sun, he won't do it alone, he will always have his personal cheerleader by his side, along with a crazy Dad and a devoted Sister....

Three Years

Three years ago my biggest concern was my son turning 21 and my daughter graduating high school. Three years ago I was planning a spring break beach vacation for a gaggle of high school seniors.
Three years ago I only saw the doctor a few times a year and didn't have a case manager at Aetna.
Three years ago I didn't know what an LVAD was.
Three years ago I didn't know organ transplant statistics.
Three years ago when we left the house, we didn't worry about batteries and supplies.
Three years ago life was much, much different.

Tomorrow, on February 16th, we observe Trouper's "heart-aversary". February 16th changed our entire family, not just Trouper, the kids and I but our extended family as well. We went from an average, middle income family to, well, not an average, middle income family virtually overnight. We got a crash course in cardiology, economics, and hospital policies. We learned who we can lean on and who we can't and to be honest, I fell in love with my husband in a way I never imagined. He is a fighter, but so are the kids and I and we are fierce and protective of one another. Most families feel that way but most families never have to deal with a chronic, often terminal illness.

Today, our battlefield stretches several states as we take the next step to get Trouper a new heart. Our love is different, our family is different and our view of life is different. Not worse, just different.
I'm different, I can feel it. I look around me and want to scream at the people who don't appreciate their life. My patience is gone and often, the tears are too much. But I still have hope and that won't ever change. It's what gets me out of bed in the morning and gets me through the day. I have hope that despite all the darkness, there's light out there and it's within our reach.

Yes, three years ago our universe was different but I thank God we were given these three years because so many people don't get that precious gift. I will keep fighting, keep researching, keep working, keep smiling and keep praying...but above it all, I will keep hoping.....

Unconventional Thankfulness

It's November and Facebook is full of the "Thankful Everyday" posts. I have done my fair share of thankful shout-outs in the past but this year, I wanted to take a different approach and share my thankfulness on the things people often forget or overlook. Sure, I'm beyond thankful for my friends and family, for their unconditional love, wisdom and strength, and for being an anchor in my stormy life. But the smaller things in life, the ones that we often take for granted or go unacknowledged are the shout-outs I want to give this November. So, for what it's worth, this is my list of unconventional thankful shout-outs:

1. The boy who broke my heart, or, as Garth Brooks says, my unanswered prayers. Twenty five years have passed and now, as a 43 year old, I'm so grateful that my first love broke my heart. If he hadn't joined the military (and gone to college in another town) we probably would have gotten married and I would be a housewife in West Texas. Not that there is anything wrong with that and everyone know's that West Texas is where my heart is but that wasn't God's plan for me. He wanted me to be Ryan and Emily's mom. He knew that my hand fit perfectly in Trouper's and that we were meant to live in a city that never stops. Better yet, he knew that I was strong enough to travel the journey I'm on today and that I was needed for bigger and better things.

2. My commute. At the reunion, we laughed because people from Odessa complain about having to drive to Midland to shop, go to the doctor, or even to work. For those of us that live in a major metropolitan area, a 20 mile commute is a daily occurrence and actually means you live close to your doctor, job or shopping center. While I'm jealous of people who don't commute I've also learned to embrace mine. I listen and explore awesome music, listen to smart people (like Joel Osteen) and get to catch up on phone calls to friends and family (usually my Momma or Gina). It also gives me a few minutes to breath before the chaos of my day begins, and exhale when it's over. I relish this down time, it's really me time and I'm so thankful for it.

3. My iPhone. I'm not being materialistic, I'm simply being thankful that one device keeps me so connected. FaceTime is the best app, when Trouper is in the hospital and I'm at work, we can chat for a few minutes or I can see and hear the doctor and ask questions in real time. When I need to check on a test results or get doctor appointment info, it's right there, no need to call and wait for someone at the doctor's office to call me back. When I need to check in with the kids, group text them. When I want to catch up on people's lives, even when they live 1200 miles away, I just click on FaceBook and I'm right there and I never worry about leaving my camera at home!

4. My work family. The most dysfunctional bunch of people I've ever met but the Lord knew what he was doing when he connected me to my job. If I need to rant about how high my medical bills are, they listen. If I need someone to run out and grab me lunch, all they need is my debit card and if I need to catch up on last night's episode of Scandal, Empire or any Housewife show, they've got me covered. Even the ones I clash with make my life complete, they give me a reason to do better, to try harder and to be a better person. Plus they are funny and make me laugh when I want to cry, and, let me cry when I need to.

5. Music. It speaks what can't be spoken, heals hearts, takes you back to a moment in time and is always there no matter the time of day. I am so thankful that I was raised to love and appreciate music. To respect it, cherish it and really connect with it. In school, my Mom always supported my decision to be in choir, my Grandma always urged me to sing at church and my Dad insisted I was raised knowing CCR, Neil Young, Gino Vannelli and the Beatles. Music has been my solace, late at night, when I needed to cry, to rejoice or just be still for a few minutes. When Ryan was a baby and couldn't sleep, we would play "Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers and he instantly calmed down, like he was listening to the lyrics. When Emily was a toddler, she listen to "Return to Pooh Corners" by  Kenny Loggins so much she wore a CD out. When Trouper was in a coma, and I would sit by his bed for hours, I sang our songs. Music is like home, it just feels right.

Home

Trouper and I just returned from a ten-day trip to Texas. We had a wonderful time filled with lots of laughter and love. In a way, I think I had forgotten how good it feels to laugh, and that people think I’m just as funny as Trouper, although my sense of humor is a bit more (okay a lot more) sarcastic than his. It’s comforting to be around people who knew you when you were 8 and know secrets about you that you dare not tell your adult friends. There was a moment when a few of us had converged on Sheila’s hotel room; I was laying on the bed catching up on texts and emails, Kevan was typing something for me and Sheila was working on the remembrance tree that actually brought tears to my eyes. When you live so far away from your friends and family, the ordinary, small moments are huge. To have the opportunity to spend a few days with my lifelong pals was just what the doctor ordered and I will never forget a moment of the trip.

The Wednesday we left we had a late flight. I had been working for weeks on various projects and was exhausted. In a week’s time, we had Trouper’s surprise party, visit from out of town guests, a 2-day VP meeting at my office that I was solely responsible for and final class reunion planning. Not to mention packing and planning to be out of town for ten days. When we boarded the plane, all I wanted to do was sleep but my brain wouldn’t turn off and my excitement was at an all-time high. I looked over at Trouper who, as most of you know, can sleep anywhere anytime, and watched him sleep and I cried. Probably from exhaustion but for a minute, fear and reality snuck into my head and I kept thinking this might be the last time we go home together. Yes, I always try and remain positive and keep telling myself and everyone around us that someday (and hopefully soon) we will get a heart and be headed back to spend our remaining years in Texas. However, in that moment, I let my guard down and cried. He must have sensed that I was crying because he opened his eyes and asked me what was wrong and why was I crying. I just said I was tired and happy to finally have some time off but he knew better. He asked again when we got to my Mom’s and turned in for the night, and I just ignored him and said good night. I was afraid to tell him what I was really feeling, that I had let my optimism shield down and that for a few minutes I was overtaken by reality. But I can’t live in that dark place so I did what I do best and pushed the bad back down and moved forward.

The ten days flew by and even with our middle of the night hospital visit to the Eastland ER, were pretty uneventful. I will say, about our ER visit, that if you have to spell LVAD to the nurse, you probably need to go elsewhere for your healthcare. Trouper got to visit with lots of his old gang and I was sorry I missed out but I had reunion stuff going on and kept busy. I went to an OHS pep rally and I have to say that the drum circle is still my favorite part. The gym seems a lot smaller and they really need to invest in some lawn care but the visit to the school was one of the highlights of the trip. Of course we made several visits to Taco Villa, one to Rosa’s, one to Mercado’s and a few to Whataburger. I gained three pounds (was down 30 pounds when I left) but it was worth it.  We got to visit our friends and spent time with our families, including my almost 91-year old Grandma Dorothy. She suffers from dementia and constantly asked me who I was and where I live and, on a few occasions, asked me how I knew Trouper. We took her to the cemetery when we visited my brother and Jackson and she got mad because I spent too much time at my brother’s grave. Such sadness when your body outlives your mind but I was happy to spend time with her even when she didn’t know who I was or why I was wanting to hold her hand.

Our trip can be summed up in one word; roots. We explored, visited and made peace with our roots. We laughed, we cried and we embraced a special place in time. We remembered where we’ve been so we can move forward into where we are going and, for a small moment, we were carefree and young again.

One last thought about Odessa. Yes, it’s an oilfield town and sometimes there’s a boom but more often there’s a bust. Yes, it’s brown and there’s no water or trees. But it has heart. People smile, shake your hand and hug your neck. Chances are when you’re in WalMart, you will see someone who knows your Mom, your Grandma or was your 2^nd grade teacher. Your elementary school still stands and the line at Southern Maid Donuts still wraps around the corner, long after breakfast has ended. Your heart still skips a beat when you see the Friday night lights from Ratliff and after the game; Taco Villa is still open so you can buy a combo burrito (no sauce, extra cheese). It’s your history, your roots, all rolled into one town. I am an Odessan, and will always been an Odessan, no matter where my life takes me.