Let's face it, most of us have experienced some type of discrimination in our lifetime. Racial, sexual orientation, gender based, and yes, even body type (I've been treated differently because I am overweight) discrimination is just normal life. Is it fair, no, should we bust our butts to change it, yes.
Throughout our transplant journey, I hadn't given a second thought about the sexual orientation of Trouper's eventual donor. I have thought about their family, friends, religion and even if they will be a happy go lucky person, just like my Trouper. Sometimes, late at night when I can't sleep, I wonder if the way they died will somehow "scar" their heart. Will that have an effect on my husband? Will their family want to know who we are, or ever want to share stories with us? But again, I have never thought about their sexual orientation, who they chose to sleep with, who they chose to share a life with, only if they have a loving, kind heart.
Back in August, when I flew home to meet my new nephew Jackson, I noticed a sign in the airport that said something like "the average wait for a heart transplant at Baylor Hospital is 9 days" which STUNNED me as we had already been waiting for several months. I wondered how, or why, they would be able to perform more transplants than our Atlanta hospital. Atlanta and Dallas are both major cities, the hospitals are both major hospitals but I went about my visit and forgot about the sign. Fast forward to two weeks ago, when Trouper's coordinator asked him to come see the doctor on a random Thursday. What he was told was shocking, and honestly, very disturbing. He was told that in the past, several groups have been unable to donate blood, tissue or organs. This group includes gay men, anyone incarcerated for more than two days in the past year and anyone convicted of a felony drug offense, no matter when the conviction occured. Our hospital, Piedmont, had followed those rules until January when they started following new guidelines, allowing candidates to sign a release, thus opening the pool of donors by thousands. Emory, just a few miles down the road, did the same a few years ago and tripled their transplants. Piedmont, by easing the restrictions, has done more transplants in two months of 2015 than they did in all of 2014! Talk about amazing statics! So Trouper signed the release without giving it a second thought. The doctor explained that previously, testing of organs/blood took longer in potential donors from these groups so the CDC had restricted their donations. However, in the past few years, technology has gotten so good, they are able to test and have results in a matter of a few hours. Again, he signed without giving it a second thought.
My blog today isn't so much about the pool opening for us, and our chances of a heart increasing, although that is a wonderful thing, it's about the discrimination that families face when their loved one dies and wants to generously donate. They are already grieving their loss, and going through a horrific experience, but to add the nastiness of discrimination breaks my heart. If you, or your loved ones fall in the group that I mentioned, please go ahead with your donation and know that finally your donation will be accepted, and will save a life. Please visit http://www.gavelife.org/from-gay-men to learn about current efforts to abolish this discrimination. Also, visit http://donatelife.net/organ-donation to learn about signing up to be a donor, and remember to share your wishes with your loved ones. In the end, live life then give life. You can't and shouldn't take your organs with you, let your legacy live on after your gone!
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
A Genuine God Moment
This month, our
family quietly observed the two year anniversary of Trouper’s heart attack. We
also observed the National Day of Love (Valentine’s Day) and President’s Day. It’s
been a fairly uneventful few months, just anxiously awaiting a new heart. We
did experience a genuine “God Moment”, one that I think has set Trouper on a
new path, hopefully something he can continue after he recovers from his heart
transplant.
Before I
start, I’d like to say that yes, over the past few years we've experienced
several “God Moments” and I know, without any hesitation, that my husband is
here today because of a miracle that only God could perform.
On to our
moment:
We never go
to Ace Hardware. If we need anything that Ace would sell, we go to Home Depot
or Lowe’s. They are both closer to our house and typically have better prices. The
first Saturday of February, Trouper and I were out and about doing typical
Saturday errands; grocery store, pharmacy, gas station and farmer’s market. The
kids needed a new shower head for their bathroom and we planned on stopping at
Home Depot but by the time we were done with everything else, we were both too
tired. We happen to drive by Ace, and Trouper said he would run in and check
out the shower head selection. He wasn't feeling well and frankly didn't look
too good but he went into the store anyway. I stayed behind to call the house
to make sure that Ryan had done the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast (I hate unloading groceries in a dirty kitchen). Trouper had been gone about 10
minutes when an Ace employee came outside, pointing at our car, asking if I was
Mrs. Gamble. I immediately started shaking, afraid something had happened
inside the store to Troup. I opened the car to get out, and screamed is he
okay. He apologized, introduced himself as Joe, and said that his son is 25
years old, currently inpatient at Piedmont and an LVAD candidate. He
said the family had been so upset, not really understanding much about the LVAD and
had been doing their best to research. He had just gotten off the phone with
his son, when Trouper walked into the store. Yes folks, a true God moment.
Trouper joined us and we talked for about 30 minutes, giving him the LVAD 101
lesson. We exchanged information, and Trouper said he would go and visit Sean
(the son) next time he was at the hospital. So the following week, after his
cardiac rehab class, he went and found Sean and talked to him for hours. Sean’s
aunt was there as well and took notes, asked questions and told Trouper over
and over how much she appreciated the visit. Sean shared some of his past with
Trouper, Trouper shared some of his past with Sean and a new LVAD friendship
was formed. Since that time, Trouper has visited Sean and his family many times
and stays in contact with them via text and email. I think Super Trouper finally
realized that his experiences; the good, the bad and the downright ugly, could
actually help potential LVAD patients. We even went and visited Sean and his
Dad on Valentine’s Day, post LVAD surgery. Sean now joins Trouper, and several
other hundred patients from Piedmont, as an LVAD recipient. Trouper’s LVAD
coordinator happen to come into the room one day when Trouper was visiting
Sean. She was a little surprised he was there, typically Piedmont asks the “transplant
brigade” to visit all new LVAD recipients and trust me, no one in the group is
under 60 so it makes it a little difficult for younger people to identify with
them. Plus they have all had transplants, not necessarily LVAD’s so their
experience is different than someone living with, or about to receive, an LVAD.
I think Trouper’s coordinator realized what an asset Trouper is and for the
past month, she’s asked him to visit other patients, and help her conduct an
LVAD class. Let’s face it Trouper is a people person. I know a lot of people
say they are outgoing but he is truly the friendliest person I have ever met. Thus,
I believe, is the making of his new career. I’m not sure how, when or what, but
I think he is perfect to assist healthcare providers with LVAD (and hopefully
sometime soon transplant) patients. Maybe he can work for UNOS, maybe the LVAD manufacturer
but this is certainly a good start! And by the way, we bought a shower head at
Ace and the kids (mainly Ryan since Em is at school) is back to taking a shower with non-leaking shower head!
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
My "True Meaning of Christmas"
It's the eve of Christmas Eve and as I look out of my office onto the bustling interstate, I imagine all those cars sitting in that disastrous traffic are either a) headed to Grandma's house for the holiday or b) headed to the mall to finish their shopping. We will do neither this holiday season. Am I sad, a little. I have always gone above and beyond during the holidays, choosing thoughtful gifts for friends and family and always going all out for Trouper and the kids. This year, I did neither. Yes, I bought the kids a gift (one a piece) but Trouper and I won't be exchanging gifts; our gift is ongoing and is the gift of time.
Financially, we struggle but that's pretty typical of families with chronically ill/terminal patients. Tons of medicine, weekly doctor visits, supplies, special equipment and even special food literally drain our bank account. This is on top of the standard bills; mortgage, cars, insurance, utilities and done on only one salary. I am in a consistent state of robbing Peter to pay Paul and have become a master juggler; keeping my job, Trouper, house, kids, animals, family, doctors, hospitals, schedules, bills and every other need my family has in the air all at once. I do all of it because I love the three of them; Trouper, Ryan and Emily, more than the breath I breathe and I would do anything for them. So this Christmas, I won't feel sorry for us and what we don't have but rather rejoice in what we do have; each other. This has been a very difficult and yes, I realize I say that every year but this one has hit us hard. Trouper's quest for a heart transplant is a roller coaster, Emily was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, and I was hospitalized twice with my pancreas disorder. Poor Ryan is the only semi healthy one of the bunch! But would I trade one day, no because through it all, we were together, a family of misfits that fit perfectly together.
This is my Christmas letter to all my friends and family, our year sucked but there were good moments. Emily continues to amaze us with her wonderful grades (ended 1st semester of her sophomore year with a 3.3) and positive attitude even though she has to take shots once a month and continues to deal with chronic pain. She was elected into a leadership position with her sorority and hopes to intern with a charity over the summer. Ryan is an amazing young man, continues to live at home and be in the "trenches" with me. He's working for a national car dealership and he's assumed a lot of responsibility for a young man but continues to impress me with his caring nature. In the new year, he's headed into an acting program and he gets more handsome by the day! Who knows, I might be the Mom of an Academy Award winner someday! Trouper's health was a roller coaster in 2014, just a few weeks ago they told us there wasn't much hope and we wouldn't be getting a new heart. New medicines, some LVAD "tweaking" and LOTS and LOTS of prayer have turned that around and we look forward to announcing a new heart in 2015! As for me, well, I still get up every morning and go to work, I still listen to talk radio and devour all news, especially entertainment news. I still love trashy reality TV but this year I've also learned to love scripted TV like Sons of Anarchy and Orange is the New Black. Oh ya, and I still have three people to hug, who, every once and a while, are all under the same roof at the same time. The true meaning of Christmas this year, my family!
Financially, we struggle but that's pretty typical of families with chronically ill/terminal patients. Tons of medicine, weekly doctor visits, supplies, special equipment and even special food literally drain our bank account. This is on top of the standard bills; mortgage, cars, insurance, utilities and done on only one salary. I am in a consistent state of robbing Peter to pay Paul and have become a master juggler; keeping my job, Trouper, house, kids, animals, family, doctors, hospitals, schedules, bills and every other need my family has in the air all at once. I do all of it because I love the three of them; Trouper, Ryan and Emily, more than the breath I breathe and I would do anything for them. So this Christmas, I won't feel sorry for us and what we don't have but rather rejoice in what we do have; each other. This has been a very difficult and yes, I realize I say that every year but this one has hit us hard. Trouper's quest for a heart transplant is a roller coaster, Emily was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, and I was hospitalized twice with my pancreas disorder. Poor Ryan is the only semi healthy one of the bunch! But would I trade one day, no because through it all, we were together, a family of misfits that fit perfectly together.
This is my Christmas letter to all my friends and family, our year sucked but there were good moments. Emily continues to amaze us with her wonderful grades (ended 1st semester of her sophomore year with a 3.3) and positive attitude even though she has to take shots once a month and continues to deal with chronic pain. She was elected into a leadership position with her sorority and hopes to intern with a charity over the summer. Ryan is an amazing young man, continues to live at home and be in the "trenches" with me. He's working for a national car dealership and he's assumed a lot of responsibility for a young man but continues to impress me with his caring nature. In the new year, he's headed into an acting program and he gets more handsome by the day! Who knows, I might be the Mom of an Academy Award winner someday! Trouper's health was a roller coaster in 2014, just a few weeks ago they told us there wasn't much hope and we wouldn't be getting a new heart. New medicines, some LVAD "tweaking" and LOTS and LOTS of prayer have turned that around and we look forward to announcing a new heart in 2015! As for me, well, I still get up every morning and go to work, I still listen to talk radio and devour all news, especially entertainment news. I still love trashy reality TV but this year I've also learned to love scripted TV like Sons of Anarchy and Orange is the New Black. Oh ya, and I still have three people to hug, who, every once and a while, are all under the same roof at the same time. The true meaning of Christmas this year, my family!
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Hospital Waiting Room
Hospital waiting rooms encompass the highs of life, those delicious moments of life that you never forget and the lowest of the low moments, the moments when your life is changed forever and usually for the worst. Last week, as I sat in the ICU waiting room, I looked around and realized our family had experienced all of them, and right in the waiting room of Piedmont Hospital.
I've lost count of the number of times I've sat in that hospital waiting room over the past few years but I can tell you I hate it. I hate the magazines, hate the color of the chairs and deplore the smell. I imagine it to be the smell of fear, sadness and anxiety all rolled into one. I also hate how doctors relay good news right there in front of everyone but take families back into the small, colorless room when they need to relay bad news. Somehow it doesn't seem fair. The families in the waiting room form a bond, and should experience all the news; good news and bad news, together.
When Trouper first had his heart attack and was in a coma, I remember being in the waiting room and not being able to breath. I felt like I was suffocating and every time a nurse, PA or doctor came out, looked around for a family, I felt as if I was going to collapse, waiting to hear our name. When our name was called, I often didn't have the clarity to ask questions, usually just nodding or mumbling something incoherent. I got better, got more organized and started writing my questions down in between visits with the hospital staff and day by day, no hour by hour, the visits became better.
That's how the past two years have been for me, I've had to learn to cling to clarity, learn to organize my thoughts and above all, remember to breath. The waiting room at Piedmont has been my teacher, my guide and taught me all those things. Am I thrilled to be sitting there, sick at my stomach with worry? No. Am I thankful to be sitting there, waiting on good news in front of everyone or even bad news in the little room? Yes. Having the privilege of being in the waiting room means that we are still a family of four. That Ryan and Emily can still ask Dad for advice, I can still hold his hand and feel like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world and our family is together. So, even though I loathe being there, I cherish it as well. Guess the waiting room is the true definition of a double entendre.
I've lost count of the number of times I've sat in that hospital waiting room over the past few years but I can tell you I hate it. I hate the magazines, hate the color of the chairs and deplore the smell. I imagine it to be the smell of fear, sadness and anxiety all rolled into one. I also hate how doctors relay good news right there in front of everyone but take families back into the small, colorless room when they need to relay bad news. Somehow it doesn't seem fair. The families in the waiting room form a bond, and should experience all the news; good news and bad news, together.
When Trouper first had his heart attack and was in a coma, I remember being in the waiting room and not being able to breath. I felt like I was suffocating and every time a nurse, PA or doctor came out, looked around for a family, I felt as if I was going to collapse, waiting to hear our name. When our name was called, I often didn't have the clarity to ask questions, usually just nodding or mumbling something incoherent. I got better, got more organized and started writing my questions down in between visits with the hospital staff and day by day, no hour by hour, the visits became better.
That's how the past two years have been for me, I've had to learn to cling to clarity, learn to organize my thoughts and above all, remember to breath. The waiting room at Piedmont has been my teacher, my guide and taught me all those things. Am I thrilled to be sitting there, sick at my stomach with worry? No. Am I thankful to be sitting there, waiting on good news in front of everyone or even bad news in the little room? Yes. Having the privilege of being in the waiting room means that we are still a family of four. That Ryan and Emily can still ask Dad for advice, I can still hold his hand and feel like I'm the most beautiful woman in the world and our family is together. So, even though I loathe being there, I cherish it as well. Guess the waiting room is the true definition of a double entendre.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Signs, Signs, Everywhere the Signs
There's a fairly famous quote that says "Perhaps they aren't stars in the sky but rather openings where our loved ones shine down and let us know they are happy". I like to think that our loved ones don't only shine down but also leave signs for us, signs that let us know they are still around, still a presence in our life.
In my 42 years, I've experienced the loss of family and friends and I've also experienced things that can't be explained. Things that I like to think are signs that they are still hanging around, still involved in my life. Often, these signs come just when I need them, often during moments of utter despair. My brother is famous for sending me signs. Typically, it's the song "Free Falling" and just like magic, when I need a pick me up, it comes on the radio. When Emily was contemplating getting a tattoo (and in the car headed to the tattoo parlor) to honor her Uncle Bumper, Free Falling comes on the radio. Every September 11th and November 1st at some point, I know I will either hear John Mayer or Tom Petty singing our song.
This past week, as Trouper and I flew home to say goodbye to our favorite little guy Jackson, we were marveling at the beautiful cloud formations. Then, Trouper spotted an elephant cloud, complete with a curled trunk and big, floppy ears. It was precious, but didn't really mean too much until on Saturday, when my sister mentioned (without knowing we had seen the elephant cloud) that elephants had become Jackson's theme. People had sent them stuffed elephants, picture frames with elephants, flower arrangements with elephants and a host of other things. It hit Trouper and I at the same time, our baby Jackson was sending a sign, a sign letting us know he will always be near us, watching and waiting until we are all together again. We both cried at the sweet reminder that life is precious and often, way too short. It reminded me of my favorite, silly 'ole Bear, Pooh: "If ever there comes a day that we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I will stay there forever"
In my 42 years, I've experienced the loss of family and friends and I've also experienced things that can't be explained. Things that I like to think are signs that they are still hanging around, still involved in my life. Often, these signs come just when I need them, often during moments of utter despair. My brother is famous for sending me signs. Typically, it's the song "Free Falling" and just like magic, when I need a pick me up, it comes on the radio. When Emily was contemplating getting a tattoo (and in the car headed to the tattoo parlor) to honor her Uncle Bumper, Free Falling comes on the radio. Every September 11th and November 1st at some point, I know I will either hear John Mayer or Tom Petty singing our song.
This past week, as Trouper and I flew home to say goodbye to our favorite little guy Jackson, we were marveling at the beautiful cloud formations. Then, Trouper spotted an elephant cloud, complete with a curled trunk and big, floppy ears. It was precious, but didn't really mean too much until on Saturday, when my sister mentioned (without knowing we had seen the elephant cloud) that elephants had become Jackson's theme. People had sent them stuffed elephants, picture frames with elephants, flower arrangements with elephants and a host of other things. It hit Trouper and I at the same time, our baby Jackson was sending a sign, a sign letting us know he will always be near us, watching and waiting until we are all together again. We both cried at the sweet reminder that life is precious and often, way too short. It reminded me of my favorite, silly 'ole Bear, Pooh: "If ever there comes a day that we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I will stay there forever"
No need to worry baby Jax, you will be in my heart until I take my last breath, and then, we will be together forever!
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Celebrating 42
42. I think I am more sad turning 42 then I was 40 and I couldn't exactly put my finger on it until I realized I remember my own mother turning 42 just a few, short years ago (20 to be exact). Half my life ago, on my 21st birthday, I celebrated as any 21 year old would, I headed to the liquor store to make a (finally legal) purchase. Much to my dismay, the cashier didn't even card me. I stood there, relishing my new legal age, anxiously ready to pull my drivers license out but alas, he just bagged my wine coolers, took my money and waived me off. I was furious and stomped out to the car where Amy waited for my fabulous take on finally being able to purchase alcohol but instead, laughed hysterically when I confessed I wasn't even carded.
These days aren't much different, I relish getting carded but not because I'm anxious to flash my age but because I'm happy someone thinks I'm still slightly young. Alas, I'm not. I've lived 15,330 days and I've filled those 15K days with love, laughter, sadness, heartbreak and joy. I've been there as a new soul enters this world, and held someone's hand while they departed this earth for a new heavenly home. I've lived through wars, witnessed history, experienced phenomenal music, remarkable movies and awe-inspiring books. I've tried to be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend I possibly could. In the end; I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've missed, I've hurt, I've trusted and I've made mistakes but most of all, I've learned. I can't change anything that has happened in the past so I need to forgive, let go and move on. That includes one of the hardest things, forgiving myself.
As I celebrate my 42nd trip around the sun, I pray that my eyes always see the best, my heart always loves and forgives, my mind forgets the worst, and that I have a soul that never loses faith in God. I also celebrate my wonderful husband, who is the true definition of a miracle and has loved me since I was 13 years old. My kids, who allowed me to make horrible mistakes as a Mom but always loved me despite my screw ups. My Mom, who is still the first person I call when I need help, and would drop everything to help her family. My Dad, who always gives sound advice, and never judges. My beautiful sister who is struggling right now and learning that being a Mom is the hardest job in the world, no matter if your baby is still in the womb, or 22. And last, all my friends and family, who've loved me during the good times and even more during the bad times.
42...here I come!
These days aren't much different, I relish getting carded but not because I'm anxious to flash my age but because I'm happy someone thinks I'm still slightly young. Alas, I'm not. I've lived 15,330 days and I've filled those 15K days with love, laughter, sadness, heartbreak and joy. I've been there as a new soul enters this world, and held someone's hand while they departed this earth for a new heavenly home. I've lived through wars, witnessed history, experienced phenomenal music, remarkable movies and awe-inspiring books. I've tried to be the best wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend I possibly could. In the end; I've lived, I've loved, I've lost, I've missed, I've hurt, I've trusted and I've made mistakes but most of all, I've learned. I can't change anything that has happened in the past so I need to forgive, let go and move on. That includes one of the hardest things, forgiving myself.
As I celebrate my 42nd trip around the sun, I pray that my eyes always see the best, my heart always loves and forgives, my mind forgets the worst, and that I have a soul that never loses faith in God. I also celebrate my wonderful husband, who is the true definition of a miracle and has loved me since I was 13 years old. My kids, who allowed me to make horrible mistakes as a Mom but always loved me despite my screw ups. My Mom, who is still the first person I call when I need help, and would drop everything to help her family. My Dad, who always gives sound advice, and never judges. My beautiful sister who is struggling right now and learning that being a Mom is the hardest job in the world, no matter if your baby is still in the womb, or 22. And last, all my friends and family, who've loved me during the good times and even more during the bad times.
42...here I come!
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Happy
What is the happiest you've ever been? What's your definition of happy? Are you happy at least once every day?
If we're lucky, we get 90 plus years to be happy or make our happiness but unfortunately, 90 years isn't always given to everyone. My brother left this world for another one when he was 29 and I often wonder who much happiness he experienced in his 29 years. It doesn't take long for me to remember all the practical jokes he played, especially on Emily and Ryan, and the laughs we always shared when we were together. The Christmas after he passed away, Trouper, Ryan, Kyna and Shannon decided to carry on Bumper's practical joke legacy and rearrange Christmas decorations in my Mom's neighborhood, most in "naughty" poses. It was quite comical, although Mom was afraid she'd be fired from the neighborhood board association if her fellow neighbors knew her family were Christmas decoration hoodlums.
Recently, Emily said something to me that made me think about my own life. She said she wants to experience one moment of happiness a day. She didn't say she wants to live a happy life just that she wants one moment, one pure moment of happiness daily. At first, it made me a little sad to think she didn't want her days to be filled with happy but then I realized my daughter is a realist and even at 18 (she will be 19 next week) she understands that life isn't a bowl of cherries. Bad things happen to good people, sad times occur, and being happy 24/7 isn't realistic. In the end, that's what I want for all my friends and family; one genuinely happy moment everyday.
That doesn't mean we can't have exuberant moments of happiness. The ones that are so sweet they cause cavities. You might be wondering what this has to do with Trouper, since my blog is supposed to be about Super Trouper. One of my happiest, most delicious memories just happens to be one he experienced "when he was sleeping". I have asked him numerous times to write a blog entry about his experiences but he keeps resisting. I will let you know that his 9 days post heart attack "sleeping", he experienced or re-experienced different memories, ones throughout his life. Yes, he was fortunate enough to visit with loved ones who've left this earth, and I sometimes envy the time he got to spend with my jokester brother. I digress. He got to relive our visit to the Happiest Place on Earth, Disney World. When Emily was 6 and Ryan was 10, we took a summer vacation to Orlando. Ryan, being a boy and a little older, wasn't that excited to visit Mickey and Company. He was over the moon happy we were going to visit GatorLand. Trust me, that was an adventure and I pray I never have to witness hundreds of Gator's fighting over some food again. My best memory, however, was when we entered the Magic Kingdom. We were already exhausted from fighting the crowds of people on the trains, hauling around backpacks in the sweltering Florida morning. When we entered the gates, we were in awe of the castle that stands in the background. Emily saw her first real life Princess and was in pure heaven. Ryan, however, was ready to leave and head back to the magical land of fighting gators. However, the carriage that had just dropped off the princess caught his attention. More over, the horse pulling the carriage caught his eye. He mentioned to us how pretty the horse was, and how big. Just then, as we all gazed at the horse, the massive animal relived himself. No, he didn't urinate, he pooped all over the ground. It was massive, and it smelled horribly. We laughed. All four of us until we cried. We had spent months anxiously anticipating our grand adventure and the moment we were about to experience what we thought was going to be pure joy, a horse took a crap. Almost like saying "welcome, this place isn't all it's cracked up to be". To this day, that memory, the moment all four of us laughed until we cried, stands out to me and makes me smile. I think of it often, and I guess Trouper does too. He dreamed of that moment, or he relived it, I'm not sure which but it's one that obviously brings him happiness.
So my friends, we don't all get 90 years of joy and happy but we do get happiness in this life. Sometimes it just takes some horse crap to make you happy.
If we're lucky, we get 90 plus years to be happy or make our happiness but unfortunately, 90 years isn't always given to everyone. My brother left this world for another one when he was 29 and I often wonder who much happiness he experienced in his 29 years. It doesn't take long for me to remember all the practical jokes he played, especially on Emily and Ryan, and the laughs we always shared when we were together. The Christmas after he passed away, Trouper, Ryan, Kyna and Shannon decided to carry on Bumper's practical joke legacy and rearrange Christmas decorations in my Mom's neighborhood, most in "naughty" poses. It was quite comical, although Mom was afraid she'd be fired from the neighborhood board association if her fellow neighbors knew her family were Christmas decoration hoodlums.
Recently, Emily said something to me that made me think about my own life. She said she wants to experience one moment of happiness a day. She didn't say she wants to live a happy life just that she wants one moment, one pure moment of happiness daily. At first, it made me a little sad to think she didn't want her days to be filled with happy but then I realized my daughter is a realist and even at 18 (she will be 19 next week) she understands that life isn't a bowl of cherries. Bad things happen to good people, sad times occur, and being happy 24/7 isn't realistic. In the end, that's what I want for all my friends and family; one genuinely happy moment everyday.
That doesn't mean we can't have exuberant moments of happiness. The ones that are so sweet they cause cavities. You might be wondering what this has to do with Trouper, since my blog is supposed to be about Super Trouper. One of my happiest, most delicious memories just happens to be one he experienced "when he was sleeping". I have asked him numerous times to write a blog entry about his experiences but he keeps resisting. I will let you know that his 9 days post heart attack "sleeping", he experienced or re-experienced different memories, ones throughout his life. Yes, he was fortunate enough to visit with loved ones who've left this earth, and I sometimes envy the time he got to spend with my jokester brother. I digress. He got to relive our visit to the Happiest Place on Earth, Disney World. When Emily was 6 and Ryan was 10, we took a summer vacation to Orlando. Ryan, being a boy and a little older, wasn't that excited to visit Mickey and Company. He was over the moon happy we were going to visit GatorLand. Trust me, that was an adventure and I pray I never have to witness hundreds of Gator's fighting over some food again. My best memory, however, was when we entered the Magic Kingdom. We were already exhausted from fighting the crowds of people on the trains, hauling around backpacks in the sweltering Florida morning. When we entered the gates, we were in awe of the castle that stands in the background. Emily saw her first real life Princess and was in pure heaven. Ryan, however, was ready to leave and head back to the magical land of fighting gators. However, the carriage that had just dropped off the princess caught his attention. More over, the horse pulling the carriage caught his eye. He mentioned to us how pretty the horse was, and how big. Just then, as we all gazed at the horse, the massive animal relived himself. No, he didn't urinate, he pooped all over the ground. It was massive, and it smelled horribly. We laughed. All four of us until we cried. We had spent months anxiously anticipating our grand adventure and the moment we were about to experience what we thought was going to be pure joy, a horse took a crap. Almost like saying "welcome, this place isn't all it's cracked up to be". To this day, that memory, the moment all four of us laughed until we cried, stands out to me and makes me smile. I think of it often, and I guess Trouper does too. He dreamed of that moment, or he relived it, I'm not sure which but it's one that obviously brings him happiness.
So my friends, we don't all get 90 years of joy and happy but we do get happiness in this life. Sometimes it just takes some horse crap to make you happy.
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