Losing Leo...

It was a dream, wasn't it?

It's been nearly two years since that horrific night an accident took Leo Alfano and his girlfriend, Morgan McKinnon, from all of us who love them. 

But, it wasn't a dream.

It is our reality.

Time does not heal all wounds.

I don't care what people say.

Each day is a reminder of what was and what can never be again.

There's a slow acceptance of this new reality but there can never be healing. This kind of a loss leaves an open wound. As Tonia says, it's about making it through one moment at a time. If you make it through that moment, you move on to the next.  One small effort, again and again. 

I've felt loss before.  Unfortunately, many of us have.  I stood beside my mom as she suffered and fought pancreatic cancer, for a year and a half, before I lost her.  It was excruciating. 

But that pain and this pain are extremely different. 

When we lose a child we love, it's a pain I can't describe.  Yes, even more cutting than that of my beloved mom.  Because she had a chance to live.  Losing a young person is an abrupt end to what was ahead for them. 

They leave behind a life unlived. 

While Leo was not our child, I know my husband and I think of him as another son.  It's just the way it was.  Leo was always with Brody.  In and out of our house.  Brody at Leo's house.  Brody gone an entire weekend because he was at the Alfano's.  He spent more time at their house than he did ours during their high school years.  Who could blame him?  I would have rather been at the Alfano's house...it's a kid's dream!

The bond we had was so deep that even I didn't realize the extent of the connection until it was broken on July 18, 2013.

Remembering our daughter Bentley's anguished scream at our bedroom door as she told us the news...her voice had a tone I have never heard before.  It was raw emotion. I will never get it out of my mind.  I know she can't either.

Remembering Brody sitting on the stairs with his head in both hands, silent.  How can you possibly find the words at that moment?  We couldn't.  We just wanted to hug him and somehow help him with the one thing we could never fix.  It was the most useless I have ever felt as a mom. 

The days that followed were a blur.  Seeing Sam, Tonia, Pete and Filie for the first time after his death...crying, hugging, listening and loving.

Organizing the candlelight vigil, I was hoping for a good turn-out of all those close to Leo and Morgan.  Those who loved them.  Well, that happened.  The number of people who came, however, was more than we could have imagined. We couldn't see from our vantage point at the JSA fields, but we saw pictures after...and were told there were over a thousand people filling the length of a soccer field and beyond...there to show their love for the Alfano's and the McKinnon's in memory of Leo and Morgan.  I was awe-struck.  So much love for these two and their families.

The year of 'firsts' has passed and we have almost reached year two without them. 

Much has changed. 

Much is still the same.

They leave behind a life unlived.

For those of us who remain and who mourn, we draw strength from them and the time they shared with us. 

The life they did have, was lived to the fullest...loved to the fullest. 

That's a lesson for all of us. 

No.  I won't 'get over it' because I know time isn't going to help what I feel.

But I am grateful and I am blessed I knew Leo and Morgan. 

Losing Leo...well, it changed my life. 

He lives inside my heart now.

Forever 19. 

Forever 'imperfectly' perfect in my mind. 

Forever missing him. 

Forever loving him.

When it's quiet, I can almost hear his voice again.  Almost. 

It is what it is.

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Remembering Uncle Don...

My husband's family is huge. Mainly because his grandparents, Bill & Ruby Farmer Stewart, had 10 children.  Even though one son died in infancy, their other 9 children went on to grow, marry and start families of their own.  Their children did the same, of course...and so on.  You can imagine how quickly the family multiplied.  The fact his Grandma Ruby also came from a good sized family, there are oodles of extended family, as well.   His Grandpa Bill's twin brother added to the mix, too.

I met my husband in 7th grade and, although he says he didn't like me very much then, we started dating in 8th or 9th grade and have been together (except for a few high school hiccups) since then.  So, being thrown into this enormous family started for me when I was 13 or so.  I remember going into his Grandparent's house, for the first time, on a Sunday when everyone would come over for Ruby's famous fried chicken.  Conversation stopped when we came in because they had to find out who Janet's boy, Eddie, was bringing to dinner. 

I was terrified. 

But, like all the others who came before me...and the ones who have come after...we made it.  Once the initial introductions were made, we were accepted and treated as family. 

Sundays were filled with noontime dinners at Bill and Ruby's that included all the aunts and uncles with nieces and nephews in tow. 

These people allowed me into their world.  I could see the love they had for my husband and that meant the world to me because I knew what they all meant to him.

I met Ed's Uncle Don along with the rest.  He was married to my mother-in law's sister, Esta.  He was the funny one.  The one who made an effort to make me feel comfortable.  I could tell he had an incredible love for his wife and his son, Donnie, and daughter, Kathy.  My husband had a special attachment to these four because when his mom would go to work, they would babysit him and, as he grew, he would go everywhere they went. Without a doubt, they truly are his family.  He considers Donnie and Kathy his brother and sister.  His Uncle Don and Aunt Esta are a second mom and dad.

Two years ago today, we lost Don after an illness. 

Our family light dimmed that day.

He brought so much love and caring into the fold that once he was gone there was a void that no one else can fill. 

Today I remember the man who loved my husband, unselfishly and as if he was his own, when he didn't have to do it. 

Today I remember the man who showed me how to love your children and how 'doing anything for them' is just what we do as parents. No questions asked.

Today I remember the man who loved only one woman and was never afraid to show it. 

Yes, he was only my uncle by marriage.  But, I consider him my uncle, too.  He was certainly there for me and I know he felt that way about all of us who are the 'outlaws' in the family

When we get together now, there's no more storytelling from Don.  No more laughing at him and with him.  No more watching him dance until he dropped at weddings, etc.  No more incessant talking about the Cubs.  Oh, wait, I guess there is that because Donnie still talks about them!

The light he brought into the family is gone and we all see things in a much dimmer shade without him.  The family dynamic won't ever be the same without Don.

Words are never adequate for explaining a loss.  But when you lose a loved one, the fact everything changed with their death, says all you need to say about their importance and place within your life.

Today I remember Don Gillis.

It is what it is.

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It took a Village...

It's a new régime in South Jacksonville. 
 

Resignations and a retirement have cleaned the slate of local officials with names appearing within an investigation conducted by the Illinois State Police.
 

We have a new acting-Village President, Steve Waltrip, along with the remaining five trustees.
 

I've attended several of the meetings these past months.
 

I've sat.
 

I've listened.
 

I've been shocked by some of what I've heard.  I've been appalled by others.

But, as I see it, this is a new beginning.  A fresh start.
 

The list of items the Village President and trustees face is immense. I would imagine there are numerous housecleaning issues to attend to even before the actual governmental work begins. This is what we would all expect to go through when starting a new position.
 

Any time you have a complete changing of the guard, there has to be an element of starting from scratch.  Even assuming the now-exited officials left everything in perfect working order and ready to go, and I think it's safe to say that probably isn't the case, there would still be a learning curve.
 

Those of us in the community, who have watched this play out, are still where we were when it all began.
 

In the audience.
 

Watching and critiquing.  And, yes, criticizing.
 

The remaining officials, however, are in the midst of the massive fall-out from the actions of their former peers.
 

As we approach Thursday nights' regularly-scheduled Village Board meeting, let's keep in mind that the mountain of work before the Board is weighing heavily on their minds. 

I will, gladly, give them a chance to breathe.
 

I have become used to, and admittedly sometimes immune to, the speakers who have repeatedly asked for the now resigned/retired officials to step-down due to alleged wrong-doing. The ethics commissions findings have elevated that to the next level and it is in the proper hands now. We can get on with the business of the Village while another entity sorts that out. The tenacity of residents paid off. Finally. Bravo!
 

That's exactly what we wanted, right?
 

So, I would expect Thursday's meeting to be a normal Village Board meeting with no uproars.  No challenges.
 

It took a Village to accomplish what has been done so far.
 

We need to let the Board do their job now.  It may not be as quickly as we'd like in some instances, but they deserve some leeway here.
 

It's been truly incredible to see the outpouring of support from Village residents wanting to do the right thing. Goals have been accomplished.

Now, let's give our new President and the Board a chance to show what they want for our Village. A chance to prove themselves to us without attacking them for issues which were, in many cases, beyond their control.
 

Input is worthwhile.
 

Input is essential.
 

Input has its place.
 

There is something to be said for knowing when to step back and knowing when to give some space.
 

It took a Village.
 

We now have a voice.
 

Voices can sometimes be silent until there's a need to be heard.
 

It is what it is.
 

p

 

Proud day to be American...Incredible day to be a parent...

It's a proud day to be an American.

It's an incredible day to be a parent.

I woke up this morning to the news the U.S. Supreme Court has found a constitutional right to same-sex marriage, striking down bans in 14 states and handing a historic victory to the gay rights movement that would have been unthinkable just 10 years ago. The 5-4 majority ruled that preventing same-sex people from marrying violated their constitutional right to due process under the 14th Amendment and that the states were unable to put forth a compelling reason to withhold that right from people.

As an American, I am appalled we even had to talk about this issue. No one should ever be denied ANYTHING that everyone else is entitled to have. Period. This is America. 

Reading posts and comments regarding religion, in terms of this issue, I think of how I am given a right to choose the religion I practice. I don't practice all religions. I got to choose my faith. 

Because I have that right as an American.
 

Those who hide behind religion as a way to judge others' lives baffle me. 

I'm not an expert on religion by any means, but I do feel it's a peaceful existence which promotes love and acceptance and never accepts exclusion or prejudice. 

I choose marriage between a man and a woman. I had that right. I fell in love with a man and we got married. I can't imagine how we would have felt if someone had told us 'we weren't allowed to be in love and to marry.'

Today is an incredible day to be a parent.

While I have lived my life as one of acceptance and open-mindedness, my interest in seeing all Americans with the same rights has definitely become heightened within the past year. 

One of our sons shared with us that he is bisexual. Since telling all of us, he is the happiest I have ever seen him. He can be who is he...just like we can be...each and every day. That is his right just as it is ours. No difference. 

As a parent, my perspective on this issue is one that is now based on the pure and incredible love a mom feels for her children. 

Perhaps those who see 'equal rights for all' as something they have a right to 'limit' if they don't agree with the way a person lives their life or whom they choose to love...should be a parent. 

As a parent, I would like to think the most important thing is that our children are happy. 

 

My son's happiness is his right. 

Whether or not he chooses to marry should be up to him. Just as it is up to our other three children. It should be their right as Americans. 

Today's ruling means all four of my children have the same and equal rights as citizens of the United States. It's truly an historic day. 

I am tearful and emotional as I write this. 

It's a proud day to be an American. 

It's an incredible day to be a parent. 

It is what it is. 

p

Soccer Mom Proud

Soccer moms get a bad wrap. 

When you hear that description of a group of mothers, you may cringe while picturing a group of women, along a soccer field sideline, probably yelling and screaming.  Loudly.  You may imagine them wearing team spirit-wear (sometimes bedazzled or custom made) and maybe even sporting their son's number or name.  There's no doubt they are there for their son and to support his team.  Admittedly, soccer moms can be a bit much.  I understand the stereotype, I really do. 

But, there's so much more to being a soccer mom...

I remember being excited to become a part of this 'group' when our son, Brody, started playing in high school.  But long before he played at the IHSA level, all four of our kids played youth soccer.  They all began at age 5 and we spent countless nights at practices and just as many weekends at games.  It's a time I would gladly go through again.  It was wonderful.  So many memories and lifelong friendships began in those years not only for our kids but for us, as well.

All the kids 'traveled' with soccer teams as they grew up.  Again, lots of weekends at tournaments.  These weekends became our vacations because of the cost of traveling, hotels and food costs multiplied by four kids.  But it was money well spent.  It afforded them so many opportunities in not only the sport but in the development of their young psyches, as well.  I am a firm believer in the power of sports for kids growth and maturity. 

As our older two boys entered high school, they played football and left soccer behind.  Brody was definitely a soccer player.  And I have to say that his group of boys was a special one.  While we enjoyed watching all of our kids, Brody's group was one that stays close to my heart.

Known as the "Spitfire" while they were young, this group of boys became so bonded and connected that they will always be friends...no matter what happens in the future.  They were able to be silly little boys together who have grown into amazing young men.  What a true gift.

Through our sons, our group of soccer moms became so much more than those faces on the sideline.  We, too, were able to be silly together on our countless weekends away.  Planning where we would eat, and drink, made the trips enjoyable for all the adults.  Oh, the stories we have about those weekends!

When the boys got to high school, we became even closer because of the parent group, concession stand, and other parts of being a soccer mom.  We saw each other as much as our family.  We started to become family.

I remember feeling an incredible sense of loss when the boys lost their last game of the season in Chatham.  It couldn't be over.  But it was.  As much as I hurt for Brody and the boys, I didn't realize at that time how much I would miss what I had gained through these years...I would miss these crazy, committed women.

Fast forward three years. 

Last night, I went to dinner with this group.  I've seen many of them over the years, but usually in smaller groups and not specifically our soccer moms, as a whole. 

Wow.

I had no idea how much I needed to see them. 

Time went right back to the comfortable feeling of spending time with those you have a history with...those who know your children...those who have children you know...those who share your memories, your laughter, your tears.   

Our son's have all gone on to follow their own paths and are busy growing up.  They will all be the young men we knew they would.  They share a bond with the Spitfire that will never end.  And while we also share the heartache of the loss of one of our 'sons' at the young age of 19, Leo Alfano will always be the heart and soul of our group.  He's now the guardian angel of our boys and watches over us all, I have no doubt.  Forever Spitfire. 

After last night, I realized I will always share a bond with these women.  We've shared the sidelines together...and now, I can see us sharing many years to come together, as well. 

Thank God for them in my life.

Thank God for soccer moms. 

I am soccer mom PROUD. 

It is what it is. 

p

 

Mammogram...Finally.

The letter came in the mail yesterday. 

I was by myself when I opened it and I have to say I was terrified.

Incredible how simple words written on a page can have such a powerful impact.

At the end of last year, I had a routine physical and talked to my doctor about having a mammogram.  I am older than the recommended age to begin these as I'll be turning 50 near the end of the year.  I really don't know why I hadn't gotten one before.  Perhaps part of me couldn't bring myself to do it.  I have normal aches and pains but have always been relatively healthy.  I had four pregnancies and four live births.  I breastfed all four.  I had always heard that was a positive as far as breast cancer goes.  So, I put off the mammogram. 

As I get older, I realize that my health is not only about me...it's about my family, as well.  I have a responsibility to them to take care of myself.  Ed and I are well into the empty nest stage of our lives and, even though the kids don't live with us full-time anymore, we look forward to the next phase for our family. 

Last year, we had a scare with Ed's health.  It jarred us all as we understood that things can change in an instant.  Luckily, he is fine now and is working toward becoming healthier for all of us, as well. 

I have no doubt my hesitation to seek any sort of medical testing has to do with my mom and my two grandma's.  They each died from cancer.  Mom had pancreatic; her mom had ovarian; and my other grandma had leukemia.  That, in itself, is scary for me as the next female in line.  But, deep down, I know that early detection of any cancer is the best chance for remission/survival.  It's just that I am inwardly afraid of hearing that word in association with me.  I've heard it too many times with loved ones.

I left that routine physical clutching an order for a mammogram.  I didn't call to schedule the appointment until after I woke up one morning from a disturbingly vivid dream.  This was months later.  The dream was so frightening that I called first thing in the morning.  Perhaps someone was telling me to just get the mammogram DONE!

I went this past Saturday to Passavant and had the best experience.  Not sure what I was expecting, but the woman who did my mammogram explained everything so well and put my mind at ease.  She definitely is in the right career.  I felt fortunate to have gone through my first mammogram with her.

My letter began:  "The above breast examination did not show any sign of cancer.  A return screening in one year is recommended."

I am now one of the millions who get mammograms. 

I am one of the lucky ones.  One year at a time.

It is what it is.

p

My Mother's Day Looks Different Now...

It's been nearly 13 years since I have shared a Mother's Day with my mom.

When I allow myself to truly think about that, I am overcome with emotions.  Sometimes it's sorrow which, in turn, brings tears.  Sometimes it's disbelief that she's really gone, which brings tears, too.  Even after all these years, I instantly feel the tears when I think of her and I don't feel like I will ever get past this point.

I've come to realize that my grief is a lifelong process and I've come to terms with that.  I've come to terms with the fact that I will never 'get over' her death;  that I will never forget holding her hand as she took her last breath; and that I will never stop struggling to find a way to live without her.

I remember that final Mother's Day as being so important.  We knew it was her last one.  She had been on hospice care and was in and out of consciousness.  She had a day or two of perfect clarity.  We were told this was normal toward the end.  One of those days happened to be Mother's Day.  I'm not sure she understood the importance of that day.  I had prayed we'd have this last holiday together.  The ironic thing is that I honestly can't remember what we did or what we said that day.  It's a blur.  I just remember I needed that time with her, for some reason.

I do know this.  It was peaceful.  It was beautiful.  That's all that matters.

When Sunday comes, I will be blessed to have all four of my children home with me.  I try to focus on the gifts I have been given and the ones I continue to receive.  My children each possess some of my mom's attributes.  She lives on in them and I only need to look into their faces to know she is still with us. 

I know I will have a wonderful day with family.  Ed and the kids go out of their way to make me feel loved.  But, yes, my mom will be on my mind and in my heart.  I know I will find a time to privately grieve for her in the midst of everything else that goes on that day.  It's what I do now.  It's my way to survive the day.  It's my reality now.

When Sunday comes, I will think of my friend, Sharon, who will be spending her first Mother's Day without her mom.  There are no words to prepare her for the emotions she'll feel and I ache for her.  But, she, too, has been blessed with a loving and supportive family.  She will find a way to survive the day.  She will find her new reality.

When Sunday comes, I will think of my friend, Tonia, who will be spending another Mother's Day without her mom and without one of her three children.  I can't say I know what she feels on this day.  While losing a parent is devastating, losing a child must be paralyzing.  She is one of the strongest women I know.  She has already found a way to survive her reality on a daily basis.  I think if I ever had a hero, it would be her.

Mother's Day looks different now. 

I'm not the same person I was at this time 13 years ago because my life is not the same. 

With each Mother's Day, I am slowly learning to live with it. 

It is what it is.

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