My how time flies...

...when you're doing other things besides writing in your blog. Hey there everyone, believe it or not I'm still alive and well. I'm sure some of you have given up the ghost and decided to stop coming by to read this blog and that's okay. As for those of you who do check in every once in a while, I admire your will of conviction to stay with something and I thank you. I understand that this venue is my space and it lives when I say it lives, it breathes when I say it breathes and sleeps for as long as I want it to sleep. I quit promising that I would actively keep writing in this blog because I hate breaking promises. So now that I'm comfortable with posting when I want, or at least as comfortable as I'm going to get with not posting except when I want to post; I am then able to come here when the urge hits and today the urge hit.

My life has been one huge roller coaster ever since a fateful day back in April 1986. That was the day that I found out that my life would change forever. That was the day I thought I was going to die sooner rather than later. That was the day I found out that I was HIV positive. A lot has happened since that day and hence why I said my life has been a roller coaster ride and sometimes the ride from hell. There have been many twist and turns, a few big loops, a couple of really long drops and one to many bumps. Non the less I continue on this roller coaster I now call my life, twist, turns, loops, bumps and all.

Since that day I fought tooth and nail to stay with the program but at times I felt like giving up as it is/has been all too much. I have been so sick that I was at deaths door one to many times. The disease took me there on a few occasions and other times I took myself there by abusing my body with one too many drinks and a lot of other substances that I should have stayed away from. After all of that I'm still here and sometimes I can't believe that I am because technically I should have been gone so long ago just by way of abuse not to mention giving the disease a leg up.

Oddly enough during all of this time I have been able to love and be loved. Now, I have loved many times in my life but specifically I found love three times since that day. I never thought I would be able to have love and live long enough to engage in relationship with another person but I did. Unfortunately for me of those three loves I lost two of them I did not lose them due to incompatibility in the relationship. I lost them to a demon that I could not battle nor win against Those two loves/lives were taken from me by the angel of death.

After the first death I never thought I would be able to love again. I had my heart torn out of my chest the day he died and that hole took a lot of time before it filled back in. The second time death stole love from me it not only ripped out my heart but it took a large part of my soul with it also. I knew then that I was never going to love again as I could not bear the thought of enduring that type of pain and emotional heartbreak ever again. Love on the other hand is a a funny thing and it had different plans for me. Whilst I was grieving the lose of my second love I met a very kind soul who put out the hand of friendship and understanding. This person allowed me to pour out my heart and all the time whilst I relieved my pain they just sat there and listened and listened and listened and then they listened some more. They allowed me to talk for hours on end and at the end of each emotional dumping on my part they where still there to tell me that I/it would be okay and eventually I believed them. What surprised me the most about this friendship is that I found out that I could also love again. Love was something that I had forgotten and it had dropped completely off my radar but even though i didn't see it love was till there waiting for me and waiting for the right moment for me to let it back into my heart.

I not only found that I could love again but I found a person to love and as I said love is a funny thing because I found love when I was least expecting it. I found love within the person who lent me a gentle hand and a non-judgmental ear. That man allowed me to pour my guts out and to talk days on end about the great lose of love I had with another man and yet in the end he was still willing to open his heart and allow me to feel so loved that at first it was a bit overwhelming. I was not sure I could or want to love again. The contrast between the warmth and kindness I felt for this man combined with the terrible agony that tore at my heart and soul from the lose of another man made my head spin. In the end I decided to throw caution to the wind and gave love another chance. I realised after all of those hours of talking that love is what you make it and sometime you fall out of love and sometimes love is taken from you but no matter what, you will always be able to love if you choose to do so. So as I said I chose to love again and because I did I have just celebrated the eleventh year of being in love with the most caring, kind, compassionate, warm, giving, and sometimes intense but always loving man I have been so blessed to meet. Oh and did I mention he's not bad on the eye either.

So, I say Happy Anniversary to my most wonderful husband and to him I say thank you for helping me find love again.

Waiting and the unknown...

Hubby just left to fly up and see hi mum. They found out yesterday that the cancer she originally had in her bowel has now spread to her lungs after originally spreading to her liver. As to be expected hubby is very upset. The thing that has been the hardest is the waiting for the inevitable. Cancer is a strange thing sometimes it sneaks up on someone and takes them quickly, and others can get sometime like a few weeks or months and others just hard to tell. Hubby's mum fell in the realm of months. However, she has defied those odds and has been battling for just over three years but it seems that as of just recently the cancer has become more aggressive.

All of the waiting and not knowing when or how bad this will get is taking a toll on hubby. sometime I think it's better if the loved one or dear friend is taken quickly. You may not have been able to say goodbye or I love you, but at least you are not faced with watching the person you care so much for slowly wither away. It's important to remember that someone can be taken from you in a blink of an eye. So you need to always remember to never let a day go by without telling that person how you feel about them. I know that when ever hubby or I leave the house we always say I love you because I would hate to think that something might happen and I didn't get that chance to tell him how I feel about him. Also, believe me when I say that it is the most horrible experience watching a loved one die slowly in front of your eyes because I've been there twice in my life.

I've told hubby he needs to make the most of this time with his mum and that any chance he gets he needs to go up and spend time with her. So, off he went this am and we are left to wait out the unknown. I apologise for such a dreary post but I needed to write about this to feel a bit better.

Number 10 (It's going to be a long story)

Well, here it is March 1st, or at least it is here in the land down under, and as such it happens to be the tenth anniversary of the happiest day in my life. Ten years ago, I met my husband and I am ever so grateful for whatever fates were involved in our meeting because when I met my husband, I was definitely not in the market for a new partner. However, when I met him something started that I was never going to be able to stop and as it grew nor did I ever wish it to stop.

The first day I met the man, who would eventually return a smile to my face and into my heart, I was visiting a very dear and close friend here in Australia. She had recently helped me through a very difficult time in my life, that being the passing of my late partner. Therefore, while I was wrapping up the loose ends of that very difficult time in my life I decided one day that I needed to get away and told my friend that I was going to come visit her here in the Land of Oz. I had gone to meet my friend for lunch as I had been doing every day during my visit in between sight seeing. When I arrived for our lunch date, a tall handsome man walked into the reception area at the hospital that my friend worked at and my friend introduced us. She then proceeded to invite him to join us for lunch. He seemed busy and distracted but he accepted the invitation and we all left a few minutes after he finished whatever had him so distracted. I later found out he was actually standing in for the boss while the boss was on holiday (vacation).

We had lunch at a little French bistro down the street from the hospital. The conversation flowed easily but a bit nervous at times. This new acquaintance was nice enough although he was a bit silly. He told many silly stories from the hospitals, which were even funnier because the fact was that unbelievable as they were they were true and you could not help but laugh at what he was telling us. I think his story telling was a defence mechanism on his part that he used when meeting new people. Anyway, lunch finished and after saying good bye back at the hospital to both my new acquaintance but also to my friend I went on my way and went looking for more sightseeing photo opportunities to fill my day.

Two day alter the friend I was staying with asked if I would like to go out for dinner. Since I was on holiday I had no set plans so I of course said yes. She then asked if it was okay if the new acquaintance could join us, I once again agreed. He was her friend after all so who was I to tell her who she could have dinner with, I was after all just along for the ride. We ate a Greek restaurant, which was a first for me. I enjoyed the food and the company. This new acquaintance, true to form, continued to entertain with his stories. At the end of dinner, my friend said she needed to call it an early night, as she had to work early the next day. However, she did not want to ruin my evening and told me that I should stay and enjoy the company of this new acquaintance to which he whole-heartedly agreed. Now I know that this sounds like a set up but I can definitely assure you that it was not. Remember I had just lost my partner, 2 months prior and at the time as I was to find out later, this new acquaintance was not himself on the market looking for a parent, In fact he was very happy being single and enjoying all that comes with it, if you know what I mean.

So once again I accepted another invitation to enjoy the company of this man and off into to the night we all went, she back home and the two of us to enjoy the nightlife. Sydney was heating up because it so happened that I had come for my holiday during the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras festival. The partying started a month before culminating in a huge parade. The city was electric and all of the bars and pubs where full of excited, not to mention good looking men who were getting ready for the party of their lives which was scheduled for three days later. The excitement in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, to use and old saying.

He took me to one of the local clubs, which was packed to the rafters. It had been months since I had been inside a club, since loosing my partner. We had stopped going weeks before he passed due to his illness. I had been having huge anxiety attacks since his passing, my way of reacting to one when they came on was to run, and I mean literally run. I would want to run to anywhere to anywhere and nowhere but I figured if I ran fast enough I could run away from the fear and the enormous anxiety. My doctor had me taking large doses of Xanax, which helped, but occasionally an attack came through and I never knew when or what would set it off. Now I had no idea that being in the club with the loud music, all those happy men and just the charged energy of the moment would be the thing to set off a panic attack.

The new acquaintance had gone to get us a beer and it had taken him a few minutes because as I said the bar was bursting at the seams with people partying. By the time, he arrived back with two ice-cold Australian beers, a first for me that unfortunate I was not going to be able to enjoy. The waves of panic had started shortly after he left to get the beers. I was suddenly alone and afraid the room was starting to spin and all of the noise and blaring disco anthems were not helping calm me. When he arrived back I took the beer had one sip and thought maybe this would pass now that he was here but it didn't stop it just kept getting worse and my need to run was becoming unbearable. I yelled at him over the music that I needed to go. He of coursed confusedly asked me why. I said I could not explain but I needed to go. Fortunate for me as a health professional he could see what was happening to me. He recognised the signs of the panic attack on my face and in my voice. At he same time he, as had other co-workers of my friend, had been told by her about my attacks as she was concerned that I might have one when I was by my self out sight seeing. She was worried what would happen to me being in Sydney, a city of which I had no idea of which way was up, and what and where an attack take me if I were to take off and get lost.

He responded quickly to my pleas but asked me to not run but instead stay right there with him and that we would leave right away. As we made it outside the fresh air filled my lungs and head but the attack still had a hold of me. I was so frightened but he did his best in a very calm and caring tone talked me through the attack. He said we could go some where quiet for a cup of tea or alternatively his apartment was close by which he could guarantee would be quite and also quite safe. Again, it all sounds so cliché but there was no underlying sinister intention. I can guarantee the only thing on my mind was running, but he knew that was not a very good option. I agreed to go to his apartment.

We arrived at his apartment and he immediately set to the task of making us a cup of tea. He lived on the third floor and so he opened all the windows and let in the fresh air. I stood on his balcony trying so very hard to calm myself. He continued to talk to me in that calm reserved tone. I think he was trying to distract my mind because he started pulling questions out of mid air. I do not think he cared what he was asking just as long as it distracted me and allowed me to calm down. At the time we arrived at his apartment it was around 10-11 pm and I kept saying that I needed to get back to my friends house or she would be worried. He said I should not leave just yet and that if I really needed to go he was going to come with me. I know he was trying to protect me and I appreciated it. I said I would wait a little while longer before I left and that when I did I would take a cab that would take me straight to her house so I did not have to attempt taking one of the inner-city trains out to her place.

As I sat there with my cup of tea (and believe me it really does calm you) I slowly started to calm down. He started to ask me more about my life. He had some idea of why I had come to Sydney but he asked about the rest of my life like where did I grow up and such. Half way through this very calm conversation, I suddenly started to shake and then burst into tears. He didn't know what to say he just kept asking "What's wrong, what's wrong?" and then it came to me and I told him actually nothing was wrong that in fact everything was better and that I was crying tears of relief. What I realised was that here sat a man who wanted nothing from me other then to help. A man that did not know me from one guy the next guy. A man who was concerned enough and kind enough to sit with me and just let me talk. I had not found that release since my partner died, not even from the friend that had brought me to Sydney not from any of my other friends or even my family. This man was an outsider and for some reason I trusted him as he had no pre-conceived ideas of me or my life and that made me feel safe to talk about things that I had kept inside since that terrible day. I had made a new friend and I was so every grateful. We sat on that balcony all night and we talked, or I talked mostly and he listened. We sat there and we eventually watched the sunrise.

So here I am, ten years later with so much more of the story that I could tel. All about flying back and forth over seas a total of nine times in the year and a half following that night. I could tell you about the two years we spent going through the exhausting legal process that would allow me o stay in Australia as his partner. Moreover, I could tell you about all of the things in between both to very good and sometimes the very bad that life has handed us both. But in the end through everything that life has handed us we have faced then together and that nab I met ten years ago on that balcony has kept that calm tone for when I needed it as well he has also been the voice of reason my life. I have loved in the past but this time I have found my soul mate and it is very lucky when someone finds his or her soul mate. I am truly one of those lucky people

I want to say to that man, the man that I am not ashamed to call my husband, my partner, my lover and most of all my friend; to him I say I" Love You" with all that I have and I will continue to work at this relationship as hard as I have from day one. Because what we have, is the most important thing in my life. Happy anniversary sweetheart, let us get on with the rest of our life and see what wonderful things it brings to our life together.

Pride...

A lovely man named Kelly definitely wears his pride on his sleeve. (His Gay Pride that is) Every year Kelly post a picture depicting Gay Pride in some form or fashion and then he asks fellow bloggers to also post the same picture. Once the picture is posted the the blogger just lets Kelly know so he can add a link to a list of the bloggers who are participating. This year Kelly has also asked each participant to write a little something about what makes them proud or maybe they can write about when they can out or even why the feel like they can't come out. So in honour of Gay Pride month and in honour of Kelly here's my reason for being proud.

• I'm Proud for surviving 22 years being HIV+ (I plan to continue for many more)
• I'm Proud for the support of my family and friends from the very start and in the future
  
• I'm Proud to have known so many good, kind, and sweet people who touched my heart and allowed me to be a small part of their lives before their lives were abruptly ended and taken from this world
• I'm Proud of a community that so valiantly rallied around all of those friends and loved ones when no one else would
• I'm Proud to see and know that there is a community that continues to fight for the right to be treated and seen as more than second class citizens and to fight for the right to be treated as equals
  
• I'm Proud to have been a part of all of this and more and to know that I will continue to do so in the future.

No posts, not good...

Gee I just realised I have not posted for a few days and as I've mentioned before I know how many of you come by to read my quick witted and spot on views of the world. I know you go into withdrawal when I don't post regularly and that without my posts you will eventually give up all hope and decide that life is just not worth the effort. For all of this and to all of you, I apologise. The guilt that I would feel over my insensitivity to your feelings and needs would be overwhelming for me and to be honest I just don't have to time or energy to expend on all of that.

Now with that all said and done you do know that I'm kidding, right? If not oh well I'll find some humour in it somehow, and you will too. I'm so mean. Anyway, the real reason I have been so lax in posting is that I'm in a bit of a funk. I am having a hard time getting motivated for Christmas. I don't even want to put up our tree, and for those of you that know me really well you will know that me not wanting to put up the tree is a sure sign of the apocalypse. I am and have always been, up to recently, the most ardent fan of all things Christmas. I loved the coloured lights and all the ornaments I've collected over the years and I could make a complete evening out of listening to some Christmas music, usually instrumental, and watching the tree lights twinkle, but not this year.

I think after some long conversations with my hubby we have come to the conclusion that all of this has something to do with my father's passing away last year. Even though my dad passed away in September. I think that next few months went by in a blur and this year things are clearer and to be just plain honest, I miss my dad. At the same time I am also concerned about my mother because I know that she is also being affected by all of this, and to a much higher degree. Last year ended in a big blur for my mum also and now this year she is sitting in her house and she has way to much time to focus on the emptiness she feels.

The best suggesting I can come up with for both my mum (I know she reads this) and me is for us to move forward and to go ahead with our christmas plans because dad would want us to. He also loved christmas, especially when it came to putting the lights up outside. So I think the best way to pay tribute to my dad is to put my tree up and when it's all up and decorated I think what I will see is not just a colourful shiny tree but I will also see a little part of my dad, and that has to be a good thing.

I'm going to at least try...

A blast from the past...

I don't know why I'm posting this, but for some reason I felt the need to share. This post originally occurred on my other web site which tells the story of my life dealing with HIV up to a point. I am sorry to say that the site needs a complete update and I need to finish my story and maybe just maybe I'm feeling the need to do so. Anyway, as I said I'm not sure why I'm posting this but I am. Let me set this up a bit.

The post I'm about to share was written based on a letter I received from my daughter. Now you should know that for the first 13 years of my daughters life I had only seen her once and that was the day after she was born. I had to sneak up to my then wives room and I held my daughter for a precious fifteen minutes. I then had to leave for fear that my soon to be ex-wife's family might show up. Even though my wife and I were divorcing due to the fact that I had finally come to the realisation the I could no longer live a lie about my sexual orientation. I had been battling that dark secret for way to long and at that point there was no way I was going to bring a child into the world and have her see her parents living in a lie. Many people tried to get us to stay together for the sake of the baby but I just couldn't. As I said I would not have my child grow up seeing and feeling the fact that her parents did not actually love one another anymore. I say anymore because I have to be fair that in some way even though inside I knew I was gay I fought so hard against it and I did actually find a woman for whom I could feel love. To this day I honestly do care for my ex-wife. she's a good woman and she raised my daughter to be a very well adjusted young woman and I could not ask anymore than that. We had some how come to a friendly arrangement and I give my ex-wife a lot of credit for she was very wise before her time. My ex-wife and I had agreed that for my daughters sake it would be best for me to stay in the background so as not to confuse the issue. I suppose on reflection it was not the best choice, never the less it was the choice we made.

For the next thirteen years my daughter grew up to be a lovely girl from what little things I found out through various avenues. The how I found out does not matter suffice it to say I found out. My ex-wife had remarried and I even went as far as allowing my daughter to be adopted by my wife's new husband because I thought it was the right thing to do. At the time I did not think I deserved to have a daughter as I was very good at becoming a self loathing gay man, not worthy of proper love, understanding and support from various friends and family. What I did not know was that during all time she was growing up my ex-sister in-law was keeping my daughter in tune with who her real dad was. My sister in law apparently told my daughter everything, including the fact that I was gay. Which she told her only because my daughter pressed her for the answer. Now I could be mad at my ex-sister-in-law for outing me but the truth would eventually have to come out and as it was that would be the impetus for my daughter wanting to meet me. The way I understand it she asked her mother who did not want to say anything about me and my daughter said fine she would find out on her own and eventually got my parents on the phone and talked to them.

In those thirteen years my life changed a lot and during that time I had become HIV+ as well I had buried the first of two partners. I was living with the second partner, when my mother called me to tell me that my daughter had called her and that she wanted to meet me. My daughter asked my mum if she thought I would be okay with meeting with hear after all this time. To say the least I was bit shocked. There had not been a day go by since the day she was born that I did not think about my daughter and wondered how she was or what she was like. Needless to say I said yes I would be more than happy to meet her. I knew in my heart that one day I would have to meet her and she would eventually ask me what happened thirteen years ago and why did I leave. I did not know what she had been told so I would be flying blind but I figured the best way forward would be with honesty. So the day came to meet and my mother had arranged for my daughter, along with my dad, to come to my home. My partner at that time used to be a professional photographer among other things and he was going to take some pictures of my family all together for the first time. Needless to say the meeting was very emotional so much that I can not even convey it here in words. At the end of the day the photos were taken and a new beginning began to form between my daughter and I. Shortly after that meeting I received a letter from my daughter and in that letter was what ended up being the post that I'm about to share with you.

So without further adieu here is that post:

A few weeks ago I wrote my previous column, and I discussed the trials and tribulations of taking all the different medicines I need to help my immune system fight the HIV virus. I often asked myself wondering if it was all worth it. Well several days after writing that column I received a letter from my daughter and I got the best answer as to why I continue to fight this disease. I would like to share this letter with you. I think you'll agree I have a very good reason to fight back against this devastating disease.

Dad, Hi! How are you? I'm just fine. Well I wrote this poem two years ago and never gave it to you. I hope it doesn't upset you, something just told me inside that I should send you a copy of it. Well I gotta go!

Love always & forever, Erin

ps. I just want you to know that I love you with all of my heart even though I haven't known you for all of my life. A girl couldn't ask for a better dad. I'm proud of you & everything you have ever accomplished. I love you daddy!


Is Life Fair?

I just met my dad the other day.
There is so much more that I want to say.

His body is a wilting flower,
Here today, then gone tomorrow.
Yet his spirit is like the ocean.
It waves up and down,
One day calm and the next rough.
I ask myself "Is life fair?",
"Why my despair?"

I think of my wedding day.
How will it be?
Who will give me away?
Who will stand next to me?

He wears a smile.
But inside he is frowning.
I sometimes wonder is he drowning?

My father loves me with all of his heart
I know in spirit that we will never part.
But, it just hurts really bad.

Life is robbing me of my dad.

That letter and poem have stuck with me to this day and in the end here we are in my daughters 25th year and she is all grown up and she's even given me a granddaughter. I've obeyed the doctors and will be lucky to see my 50th birthday this November. I don't know if or when my daughter will get married but at the end of the day if she stills wants me to walk her down the aisle it will be my pleasure. All in all as difficult as it can be I think life is good because I have won this battle so far. Anyway, thanks for reading and now we will return to our regularly scheduled and much more current posts.

What's your secret???

I read this here and I believe it originally came from here. I just wanted to share this with you because I think it is very important. Note: I did not write this but I truly understand everything that is written here and hope that others will read this and also begin to understand.

STRAIGHT PEOPLE - TRY THIS. Imagine you have a deep dark secret. It can be anything, it doesn't matter. Now imagine that if you told people this secret you would be ridiculed, hated, looked at like you are a freak. Imagine how badly you want to tell someone your secret. Imagine your fear of a persons reaction if you tell them your secret. Imagine you tell someone the secret, but it leaks out and soon everyone knows. Imagine people whispering and pointing at you as you walk down the hall. Imagine people staring at you as if your a freak, as if there is something wrong with you. Imagine people throwing their lunches at you or spitting on you as you walk across the courtyard at lunch. Imagine people taunting you with names that hurt you like a bullet. Now open your eyes. Gays go through this every day. We don’t have to imagine. For us, its reality.

I’m a bi who wishes she was straight because i’m sick of hiding, sick of the heartache and i’m tired of not knowing what will happen what friends i’ll lose next what words i’ll let slip and what questions i have to avoid answering.

I am the boy who never finished high school, because I got called a fag everyday.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the gay teenager who cant tell his school who he really is, because he is afraid of what they will do to him

I am the gay athlete who wants to use the locker room, but hears the ridicule of homosexuality just outside the door

I am the gay friend that only has a few people who actually care, but hardly get to see

I am the gay boy that wants to cry when he hears fag, gay, or homo in a way that makes me feel less human

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had… I wish they could adopt me.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

I’m the girl who was scoffed at by her teacher when she confided in her she might have a crush on a girl.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the girl who hides under lies just to feel that she belongs.

I am the girl that lost her two best friends because they were gay as well.

I am the girl that spent heart breaking nights holding her gay cousin until he cried himself to sleep.

I am the girl who lost her best friend because she found out she had a crush on her.

I am the kid whose own parents told her that she was going to hell.

I am the girl who gets in trouble with her parents for wearing a rainbow colored belt and hanging a
poster of Freddie Mercury on her wall.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the woman who died when the EMT’s stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don’t believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most… LOVE!

I am the person ashamed to tell my own friends that I am a lesbian, because they constantly make fun of them.

I am the boy tied to a fence, beaten to a bloody pulp and left to die because two straight men wanted to “teach me a lesson”

Something to think about...no?

Makes me proud....

I just had to share this picture with you, because it make me smile in my heart. My husband (James) is a very kind and generous man. James works in the emergency department at the local hospital. People will always get sick and people die everyday so his jobs is one of necessity. He uses his medical training to help people feel better when they are feeling their worst. Most of the people he helps treat usually go home and heal, some get admitted to the hospital because they need a bit more long term care and others never leave the department because they present at a time when their body is in a critical state. Those people that are so critical usually teeter between life and death. It is up to my partner and the other doctors and nurses to do everything they can to help each and every individual that walks through their door. James and his co-workers work to the point of exhaustion, both physical and mental, especially when it comes to resuscitating a person and trying to keep them from dying. Sometimes they will do this three or more times a night. When I say he save lives I mean he literally saves lives. I think it takes great courage to do what he does. Those people that do not survive do so through no fault nor lack of trying by my partner and the other staff members involved. After the death of a patient my partner is then regulated to comforting those left behind. He always shows great compassion to the people he is trying to help as well as for those left behind. He sees the worst of everything and he is still able to smile. He tries to find something good in a bad situation at a time when people are feeling lost. During that most difficult of times he is able to bring some peace and a semblance of normalcy to a very chaotic world. I applaud James as well as the doctors and nurses that work with him for the unbelievable work they do. I am a very lucky to know this man and I'm very proud of him and what he does everyday!

That's James with one of his favorite co-workers. See I told you he is always smiling.

A tribute to my father....

This morning I received an email from my niece (Melyssa) and that in itself is not ground breaking, but what was in the email was something of a different matter. My niece is a lovely girl who has always done the right thing. She has always been very close to her grandparents (my mum and dad). Melyssa was at my mum's house pretty much twenty four seven after my dad passed away last September. She has always been very special to me and I don't say that enough. So just what is it that she has said, well it's not what she said it's what she has done. Melyssa has gotten a tattoo on her back in memory of my dad. The tattoo contains my father's initials, date born/passed, and the wings plus start indicative of the US Air Force in which my father served. As Melyssa puts it, "this way grandpa will always have my back" and in some small way he will always look after her. I think this is a beautiful tribute to my father and to my niece I say... Thank You! and I Love You!