pexels-photo-46274.jpegHappy New Year to all of you!  Yes, I know I am a week late.  Sounds like the story of my life.

Mike and I have been trying to put together a book for quite some time.  Some of it came out of trying to keep a record or journal of our family’s story and survival through the abyss known as Traumatic Brain Injury.  Whenever I would speak at events for either Brain Injury Services, Inc. or the Trauma Survivors Network  I would be approached by audience members who kept commenting that I should write a book.  Apparently, a story about a mom and daughter both have brain injuries from the same incident isn’t very common.  Go Figure!

Anyway, we have put the bare bones together and I was getting inpatient wondering if we had something publishable so I contacted a hybrid publisher.  At the time I didn’t realize what a hybrid publisher was but it is between a traditional publishing house such as Random House and self-publishing.  A hybrid asks for some money upfront from the author but the work is still owned by the author and the company helps with editing, typesetting, printing, marketing, and distribution.

I was very surprised when we were offered a contract to go ahead.  We have decided to spend a little more time refining the book over the next few months before going ahead.  There are so many things to still figure out such as how the 3 misses will take the news.  This will especially affect Middle Miss!  We want to lay out the story as honestly as we can and some of the things we have to share she may not like.  I guess we can cross that bridge when we need.

If anyone has any experience publishing a book I would love to hear about it; both the good and bad.  I am a big believer in the more you know the better the decision.



The Birth of Joy

I worked on this piece for a very long time; it had been in my head for so long and took awhile to refine before feeling comfortable about sharing it with the world.

I took a chance on an online site and was thrilled when it was picked up by one and published (https://medium.com/an-odd-mom-s-world/the-birth-of-joy-65901edc74a4).

I submitted to another publication which has both a digital and print copy circulation and was published in their June 2017 issue (http://tbihopeandinspiration.com/June2017.pdf).

It felt so good to get this piece circulated and out to other readers.  As expected, once I was able to get some successes the writing has increased, though not so much on this blog.  I hope to improve the frequency of writing here over the next few months and look for some upcoming links to a website my husband and I developed after talking about it for years.

Let me know what you think in the comments.





The Truth Eventually Reveals Itself

maxresdefaultI kept hearing stories about facebook friends who had DNA testing to determine their ancestry and found it fascinating.  So many were finding little traces of unknown heritage that had somehow never been spoken through generations of stories.  I was HOOKED!

At Christmas, Mike gave me a kit as a gift.  I was so excited!  I couldn’t wait to complete it and send it off for processing.  For those of you unfamiliar with these, a small tube is included where you spit some saliva.  Seal it and complete the accompanying paperwork. All of these are placed in a postage paid envelope and mailed it to the lab.  I used Ancestry.com but there are a number of similar services that conduct the same or similar tests.

I received periodic updates explaining where my tests were during the process and as it so happened this was a popular holiday gift so there was more of a back log than usual.

Approximately six weeks later I received an email late at night detailing my results.  I must have been in shock because when I look back on my reaction it was one of disbelief.  I had always believed that I was 50 percent Swedish since my paternal grandparents immigrated from Sweden and 25 percent Irish and 25 percent English from my mother’s parents who were also immigrants.

The following day I sent Mike a text as he was travelling for work. I included the results and he immediately responded asking if I could talk. I could immediately detect from his tone of voice that he was quite shocked.  He wanted to know what I thought before saying anything else.  I told him that apparently the man I always thought was my biological father was, in fact, NOT. My results indicated that I am 49 percent Irish and 48 percent English.  The remaining 3 percent was a mix of others but not a drop of Swedish.

The thoughts that circulated through my head were so numerous and yet I never once doubted the results.  In fact, a lot of things became clearer. When my father passed away, 6 years after my mother, I had the unfortunate task of cleaning out their house.  While going through his dresser I found a manila envelope containing a number of documents.  One of these was my ‘parents’ marriage certificate. I read it at least 10 times before calling Mike in to look at it.  They DID NOT get married until I was 24 years old! There was also a letter from an attorney stating that they lived as husband and wife from 1964 until April 1989 believing that a common law marriage was legal.  I am sure you can imagine the shock!

So, when I found out the man who I always thought was my father, was not, I did not experience the same level of shock that would be expected . Since my brother’s birthday was the following day I decided to call him and ask him what he knew.  He is 15 years older than me.  His father walked out when he was about 2 years old and my mother and he never heard from him again. Though we are technically half siblings I never referred to him as such and have always felt that he is my brother whether half or not.  I was hoping his memory would help explain what happened.  There was, and still is, a part of me that wonders if he knew or suspected about this all these years.

When I told him my news he sounded surprised. I asked if he remembered anyone in our mother’s life prior to my birth.  There was some silence and he asked if  he could try to think about it to jog his memory since this all occurred a long time ago.

The following day he called me and relayed that yes our mother was involved with someone prior to “marrying” my father.  He explained that my mother and “father” had dated for quite a while and one day she told him that they would no longer see Lenny.  We were always told to not ask too many questions so he didn’t.  My mother dated some men and there was one she was dating more seriously than others.  My brother would spend a lot of weekends at our aunt’s home and when he returned one Sunday evening my mother explained that she & Lenny got married.  A few days later they told him that they were moving to another state because she was pregnant and they needed a house with more space.

He further explained that once the move occurred our mother became a very different person.  She no longer went out every weekend.  She stopped working since she was now “married”.  She didn’t see her extended family as much and as the years went on saw them less and less.

I have had this information for a while now and have gone through a lot of emotions.  I started out very confused which turned to anger and then to empathy.  I feel sorry for my mother in a lot of ways.  She had to hide two large secrets and she most likely went through her life terrified that someone would uncover these.  I can not imagine living with so much secrecy.  What an incredible burden.

On the other hand, why didn’t she ever tell me the truth?  There are medical issues I may need to be aware of.  I was an adult with my own family when my mother passed away so she had plenty of opportunity to come clean. I have also wondered why my father never told me the truth once my mother passed away.  I am convinced he knew!

This information does solve a few questions that I have wrestled to understand.  I never felt as though I fit in and wondered what was “missing”.  My mother always held others back and would never let anyone get to know her probably in fear that her secret would be revealed.  I had an eye condition when I was four years old (strabismus-https://www.healthline.com/health/eye-muscle-repair) which is genetic yet no one in either family ever experienced it.  Middle miss also was diagnosed with strabismus at three and had surgery to correct it at four, just like me.  After a miscarriage I had some blood work evaluated and discovered that I had a clotting disorder (www.healthline.com/health/von-willebrand-disease).  The doctors explained that you inherit the gene from a parent.  My mother was deceased but I asked my father and he immediately got very angry with me.  He refused to discuss it and told me he had no idea what I was talking about.

I have reconnected with some of my cousins since this started which I am really grateful. I wish my parents had explained all of this to me prior to their deaths so I could understand what happened and listen to the reasons for their secrets.  I would have had the opportunity to grieve and heal with them supporting me.  The piece I hope everyone takes away from this story is that it is so important to tell the truth whenever possible.  Lies fester and build and hurt so many.  The truth is always the best way!








One of the Hardest

I am about to bear it all right now.  One of the toughest things I have had to deal with is loneliness.  How could I be lonely if I live with one cat, one dog, three children, and one husband?  Well, that’s a great question.  I am not deprived of contact with human beings or animals; I AM LONELY!

According to Wikpedia,  “loneliness is a complex and usually unpleasant emotional response to isolation. Loneliness typically includes anxious feelings about a lack of connection or communication with other beings, both in the present and extending into the future. As such, loneliness can be felt even when surrounded by other people. The causes of loneliness are varied and include social, mental, emotional, or even physical factors. Research has shown that loneliness is prevalent throughout society, including people in marriages, relationships, families, veterans, and those with successful careers.”

I have felt this way on and off all of my life but it has taken me a very long time to recognize it or define the feeling.  It hits me very hard when I try to have a conversation with someone and tell them about Middle Miss and some of her disappointments or how her life is shaping up and they have nothing to offer.  Instead of saying nothing, or at the very least, “I am sorry, this sucks, etc.”, they turn the subject around to a friend’s  high school son who had numerous ACL injuries and his “career” is over.  Seriously?  That’s all you can come up with?  Is that supposed to make me feel better?  That young man still has a great future ahead of him.  He can go on to a four year college if he chooses and live an independent life.  A hurt knee won’t jeopardize his education.

These are probably the times I feel the most lonely.  No one else has empathy for our situation.  No one else feels the pain I feel.  As this keeps occurring especially during this graduation season, I feel it even more.

Middle Miss’ future was stolen from her while riding in the back seat, strapped into her five point harness car seat, singing along to a Blues Clues CD on the way to her sister’s Nutcracker rehearsal.  Her future will never, ever be the same.  As the surgeon in the hospital said to us the morning after the accident, “The little girl you had before will never return”.

Speaking Her Truth

As some of you may or may not know March is Brain Injury Awareness Month and this past week it was Brain Injury Awareness Day on Capitol Hill.  Congressman Bill Pascrell of the great state of New Jersey founded The Brain Injury Task Force in 2000 and he continues to co-chair it along with Congressman Thomas Rooney of Florida.  The Brain Injury Association of America sponsors this event with a vendor fair in the morning, a panel of speakers in the afternoon, and a reception in the early evening.  The staff is also on hand to coordinate lobbying efforts by attendees and they can help coordinate these visits.

I joined the Brain Injury Council six months ago just as the planning for this got underway.  It had already been decided that the theme would be Pediatric Brain Injury which seemed to be a perfect “fit” for my interests.  I have only attended the event once which was last year since it takes a lot of coordination with my family and it is a VERY LONG day traveling to the Capitol and meeting with representatives and there is A LOT of walking.

Middle Miss was asked if she would like to speak on the panel since the organizers were trying to find someone who had a brain injury during their childhood and was in the process of transitioning from high school to adulthood.  Her name came to the attention of the organizers through the Executive Director of the Brain Injury Association of Virginia.  I sit on the board and she was aware that Middle Miss had attended the Youth Leadership Forum this past summer.

Middle Miss was asked to speak about her journey as well as touch on the services she had received over the years including what supports she will continue to need as she move on from public school.  We kept reminding her of the date and as each week went by I would ask her if the speech was written.  Imagine our surprise when the Saturday prior to the event the speech hadn’t been started.  She worked on it all weekend and as you can imagine this involved a lot of grumbling, feet stomping, huffy breaths, and breaks.  Finally, the evening before the event we had a speech!  Nothing like waiting until the ninth hour.

The morning of the event we were all racing around since we had to leave the house right after little Miss got on the bus at 7:20 a.m.  As anyone with a teenage girl knows they are rarely on time to leave the house and Middle Miss is notorious for changing her outfit as we are about to leave.  So it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise when she had to change.

The weather was quite brisk this morning and as we walked up to the Capitol and entered the Rayburn House Office Building we were quite wind blown.  Middle Miss chose to attend the first Congressional visit of the day along with some Virginia state employees and the Government Affairs Director of the Brain Injury Association.  Following this visit, her anxiety began to increase.  We walked around the very crowded and loud vendor fair and attempted to speak with a few people but she had to leave the area as it was too overwhelming and stimulating of an environment with the lighting, noise, high ceilings and wall to wall people.  Anyone requiring the use of a wheelchair or cane would never have been able to navigate this area.

Finally, the time to head to the room for the panel arrived and we attempted to get her acclimated to the environment nice and early, however, our attempts were thwarted when we all had to exit the room so staff could take away the tables and set the room up for the panel.  Once this all had been completed we entered the room along with the audience members therefore not giving Middle Miss time to acclimate her herself.  What do they say about the best-laid plans?

The moderator who I described to her as a teddy bear proved me right; he really took care of her by making sure she was comfortable and rearranging the speakers so Middle Miss would go second in the lineup of five.  He later explained that he did this on purpose knowing that her story would prove to be the most impactful since she was the only survivor speaking.  She was also seated next to the kindest gentleman anyone would ever meet.  A psychiatrist with the Department of Defense and a career military man he made our girl feel so comfortable which we were forever grateful.

I am not speaking as a proud mama, which of course I was, but she totally ROCKED that room.  She spoke so clearly and eloquently and with so much heart and authenticity.  Her talk was at times sad, devastating, raw, and always truthful.  As she finished we were shocked and awed to see that the audience, us included, gave her a standing ovation.  I could not believe the overwhelming surge of pride, elation, sadness, and awe that came over me all at once.  Here was this beautiful girl of mine, once clinging to the threads of life, speaking in front of one hundred plus people in the Rayburn House Building.  Validation does not come any better than that.  As we all returned to our seats the moderator mentioned that her two proud parents were sitting in the front and the woman next to me turned and said, “that is your daughter, oh my gosh, she made me cry, what a beautiful young lady she is and so brave to share her story here.”

Like I said, validation and the feeling that all of our hard work was beginning to pay off was overwhelming.image-1054_westfrontwithtulipshorizontal-4149


Silver Linings

Sometimes while in the throes of trauma we don’t have the ability to notice the silver linings in the clouds. I learned this in the aftermath of our accident; the realization that we had so many wonderful people who came out in support of our family.  We received cards from friends and families, pictures from children we knew as well as children who heard our story and wanted to do something.  Soon Middle Miss’s hospital room was decorated in vibrant colors and images.  While in a coma the doctors recommended that we play soft music that Middle Miss enjoyed listening to as a way to reach her and hopefully stimulate her brain.   A truly wonderful friend found a CD that included songs with her name in it. What a truly wonderful gift.

Former neighbors came by and dropped off bags full of snacks for both Mike and I because they knew from experience when a child is in the hospital parents do not want to leave to get something to eat in fear that something will happen when they are not “on watch”.  Home cooked meals were delivered to our home for Big Miss and her Grandmother who was helping out and to the hospital for us so we didn’t forget to take care of ourselves.  Friends and neighbors were offering to help take care of Big Miss so her routine could be as close to normal as possible.  They understood that a 5 year old still needs a steady routine no matter what.

Our advocacy for Middle Miss began on day one in the hospital.  Prior to this, I was not very assertive.  I wasn’t a pushover but I didn’t always speak up when I should.  Well, having your child in a coma will definitely bring all that out.  Mike and I started advocating for her immediately.  We questioned the doctors, demanded answers when our questions were ignored, fought her transfer to another unit until she was off the ventilator, demanded second opinions, and the list goes on and on.  Through this I learned how to become an advocate and little did I know that I would become such a huge advocate for her and others suffering from brain injury.  Prior to our accident we didn’t know anything about brain injury and became quick studies to ensure she received the help she needed and deserved.

During the 10 long days Middle Miss was in the hospital and prior to entering inpatient rehabilitation so many people approached and told me how strong I was.  I thanked them but thought deep down that I had them fooled.  I later realized how accurate they were. Friends and strangers saw something in me that I was unable to recognize.  I don’t know if I would have ever known my strength had I never been through a crisis like this.

Along with learning to advocate, I became a public speaker which shocks me to this day.  I never enjoyed speaking up in class and anytime we had a project that included a presentation I would rush through it just to get out of the spotlight.  The first time I was asked to tell my story I jumped at the chance.  I was nervous but confident in the information I had to pass on and each time I told the story it got easier and easier. There are times that I broke down, and it continues to happen today 14 years later, but I know my story is powerful and use it as a tool.  I am educating my audience about brain injury, the long term effects for both the injured and her family, the special education system, and many other aspects of this ordeal.

Marriages can be very fragile or they can be as tough as nails. Luckily, we were able to see that our marriage was tough and became stronger because of this as we worked as a team to get Middle Miss the proper care and help.  She made incredible progress once we entered the rehabilitation center and those around us thought it was due to the strong family unit we had.  Eventhough we chose to go to one that was in another state and further from our home we made sure that one of us was with her at all times.  We never left her side and continually pushed all the therapists and doctors to give her as much treatment as physically possible.  My heart breaks for all the children who don’t have this support.

I don’t talk about my religious beliefs or spirituality very much but during this time I also learned about the power of prayer and forgiveness.  A great number of people mentioned that we were in their prayers or their religious institution had put us in their prayer circle. For many years afterwards I would meet someone and once they heard our story they would confide that they prayed for us.  How awesome is that?

A few years after our accident I was sitting in church listening to a sermon about when all of a sudden I felt this rush of forgiveness for the man who caused the accident.  It was the most liberating feeling.   I was still sad.  I was still angry.  But I no longer felt revenge and the forgiveness allowed me to move on and be the best mom, wife and woman I could be.

Of course, I wish this tragic event never happened but I can’t take it away.  Instead I choose to move forward and help others navigate through their own stories.





I have been talking and thinking a lot about grief the past few months.  It seems that wherever I turn I run straight into it.  The grief that I am speaking of is not the loss of life but instead the loss of the life I expected.

We all deal with disappointments that sometimes brings us to our knees but we get up brush it off and move forward to bigger and better things.  Afterall isn’t the saying, “quitters never win and winners never quit” ingrained in all of us?

This isn’t what I’m talking about.  I am referring to the loss of potential and a future.  When Middle Miss was 3 years and 3 months old we were involved in a horrific car accident.  She was code blue at the scene, survived and has a severe Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).  The past 14 years have been full of challenges getting her the services she needs and deserves while also being thankful for her recovery.  I have been in constant survival mode trying to make sure she receives every bit of rehabilitation she needs as well as making sure Big Miss didn’t feel left out and receives the attention she deserves and needs.  Add on, Little Miss born seven years following our accident.

All through this we didn’t have a crystal ball that told us what the future held.  We hoped for the best and moved on to the next phase of recovery.  Now we are entering a new phase.  She is 6 months away from turning 18 and a year plus from graduating high school.  Usually at this point in a child’s life the parents have a clear role of what the future holds.  Of course, nothing is guaranteed, but we still have so many unknowns.   What does the future hold for her?

This is the grief I have been feeling for the past two years.  The grief of lost potential since we never knew what she was capable of being so young at the time of the accident. The grief that once she reaches a certain age I can start focusing on me and what I need. The grief that she may never achieve full independence.  The grief that if she isn’t fully independent who will help her when we are gone.

Hope and resilience have been my mantras and my stabilizing forces.  I, mostly, remain grateful for all that we have learned during this period but some days the grief is so strong I feel like I am drowning.

I look forward to continuing this blog and telling you our story of hope and resilience.