A Poem For A Man Who Lost His Wife

There once was a girl, who watched The Price Is Right with passion, she often would say, it was Drew she adored, she could price things right, second to none, and that's the truth, the smile it put on her face, memories never replaced. Humor and laughter was her key to the day, that girl I speak of, so sick and so weak, each weekday at 10, with Drew and his crew, she'd tune in and laugh, that beautiful face, will never be replaced. That beautiful face left us last June, she's in a better place, how I wish I could see that face. That wish will have to wait, because I made my dear a promise, I swore to keep, show up I would, to the big show in person, regardless if by myself, she would have none of that, "you’ll never be alone, I'll always be by your side" she'd profess, so here I am, this last task on the list, before she left, she told me this "If you get called down, and if you have any doubt, shout out loud, these three words - One dollar Drew!" I’m not worried, the outcome, The Price is Right, thank you I say, it’s the reason I’m here, to play would be great, but regardless I’m keeping my promise, this last wish on her list. I hope I will do, it would have been better, her standing here, in my place, but it's me here today, to say to you and the crew, because of all of you, the days were lighter and our room was brighter, with laughter and with smile. I thank you so much for the memories the show brought, it's ones I hold dear, these times have been trying, when I any doubt, I listen real close, real silent too, I can hear that beautiful voice, so clear and so true, yelling out - "One dollar Drew!"

Writing A Book Is A Tedious Process

Writing is a passion but trying to get published is hard work. Such hard work in fact that it makes you question whether to continue that pursuit or just consider it a hobby. You put your touch, your flavor, all over the pages with the power of your pen but to embark on the task of getting others on board to see your story published is crazy hard work. I have so much respect for those that work on their writing to take it to market. The sweat and tears are so personal that only someone that has taken on the task could only know.

They say that writing is a tough hobby to take on. It isn't for everyone but therapeutic if one does it and tackles more than a sentence or paragraph. I've been doing it for twenty-two years now and find it to be my calling. Since so many people dream of writing a book but very few ever will, I think that others find it hard to look at someone's work. It only reminds them that it may have or is on their bucket list but a hard one to cross off your list if you don't start with a written word. Hence, it's hard to get other people to critique your writings when it reminds them of their failures. Don't get me wrong, it's not the case with everyone. Certain people seem to love and are inspired by those chasing their dreams. Then there's always that other bunch who smile but painfully. 

I recommend that you find someone in your circle or someone that you can hire to look at your work as it moves along. Some other than a sibling or parent because you may not get the answers that you need. An impartial or neutral party is your best. If you don't have the funds to hire someone then find an old English teacher, friend or possible referral from a colleague. Hit up an old girlfriend or boyfriend, someone. I ask people I respect to look at it and share it with those people in their circle who may have the skill set to help me reach my dream. 

Writing takes patience. Getting it polished up takes skill. Getting it published takes a miracle. But if you love writing like I do it can take your brain to new heights and your love for words to new places. I tell everyone to write. It has saved my life before and I'm sure it'll save my life again. Do yourself a favor if you ever feel like stepping off a ledge on top of a big building. Grab a pencil and put your emotions to the side for just a night and write. Write so hard and passionately, the entire night, and see how you feel in the morning. If you still are dead set on stepping off a ledge, don't do it, but hopefully a night with your thoughts and a pencil will convince yourself that there's a story in you that needs to be told. Your words are true and only from you, so get out a pen or pencil, start today and begin writing away.          

RIP Otis...

On December 31, 1989, New Year's Eve, I was at QuikTrip (QT) on Main St. just North of the Plaza in Kansas City. It was nearly dark and I was with a good friend nicknamed Otis - Mr. Nicholas Dennis. Way back then, there weren't cell phones conveniently located at your fingertips, back pocket or purse. If you were on the road and had to use a phone it was at a payphone. Back in the late 1980's these phones weren't located in booths like decades past, but on a pedestal. Some of these pedestals, like at this QT, were single pedestal double-sides phones along the outside wall. Although cell phones weren't accessible, pagers and beepers were the things to have. On that particular night at that specific time my pager tooted out it's little chime and Nick pulled over to this crowded and bustling QuikTrip on Main. I proceeded to the payphones.

I was staying at The Residence Inn that night for the festivities. My room was North on Main a few miles from the QT and directly located across from The Liberty Memorial. I was closing out the 80's and was looking forward to what the 1990's would bring. It was the first time, as an adult, that I got to pack up a previous decade and enter a new one. Although I was excited about the party I was looking forward to the pounds of shrimp, steaks, and the guests we'd invited. It was going to be good.  

When I made my way to the payphones at QT I noticed that there was a man on the adjoining pedestal phone. While I was making my call I noticed a man make his way around the corner from the direction of The Kansas City Art Institute. His pace was swift and quick. Not that of a runner or jogger pacing a track field or around Loose Park pond. The quick approaching man wasn't anyone I recognized so I thought he too may be hurrying to get to his party. Quickly, I found out that he wasn't at QT to get back to any fireworks that might go off at the stroke of midnight. He had the match in his pocket to the fire he was about to bring, and I was going to witness it all - sort of.  

As his pace picked up even more, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black pistol. Being instilled with a level of street smarts, I buckled up tight against the wall and huddled my side of the payphone. I wasn't sure if this pistol was coming for me but I braced. Right as if it looked as the fast moving man was going to pick up his steps even more and pass us, he pivoted his hips towards the direction of me and the other man on the line of the same pedestal payphone, who blindly had his back towards the rushing gunman. But the pistol wasn't for me this time - but the other man who was talking on the black handset.

I didn't see the fire release from the muzzle but I heard the pop, pop, pop. I didn't see anything because I shut my eyes tight and was lifting my legs as if I was stepping on hot pavement with bare feet on a hot July summer day. As quickly as it begun, it ended. I didn't smell gun powder, I didn't hear any moans nor did I see anything but a man begin to slouch and slide down the wall of the QT. I sprinted out of there and headed to Otis who was in the car across the parking lot. I got in the car and we looked at each other and he said, "HOLY SHIT!". I then said let's go. Being the good Catholic Boy from the parish of St. Agnes he said, "Should we wait for the cops?". I said, "GO!"

I had quickly determined in that quick run to the car that I hadn't witnessed anything nor would I give any statement with my name to authorities about a man who would boldly walk up to another man and pump multiple shots into him - without any disguise! Hell no, so Nick hit the gas hard and we were gone!

Last night I was reflecting about previous festivities during the years on New Year's Eve. I thought about that cold December night in 1989 and smiled thinking about Nick "Otis" Dennis. To my sadness, this morning I woke to the news that my good friend of over 40 years had passed away. You'll be missed partner but I'll find you when I get to heaven. RIP Otis

Autumn Hendrix Blog Post About Me...

autumnhendrix

Congratulations Autumn Hendrix on your 1st blog post from last year! 
Monday, July 4, 2016

Prevalent

If you don't shift gears in a car you will burn up the transmission. There's no question about it. In life if you don't shift gears, adapt to the ebbs and flows of your life, you'll burn out. I've recently started seeing the difference of one year to the next. My mother and grandmother were just in town, in from Michigan. They spend 8 days with Michael, my boyfriend, and I. It was just over a week but when you're use to being alone, with no kids or roommates, one or seven days seems like a month or two. It wasn't the company nor the time but the fact that we get to adjust our time, our schedules, to our wristwatch. We cherish our life, whether it be solitude or highly engaginng.

I mention one year to the next because I've seen a huge difference from this past year to the previous before. I'm in love, a fact and a relationship that wasn't there a year before. I've seen other relationships in my life prosper over the year that were struggling in certain areas. I have to say that I'm happy, the happiest, in certain ways that I never knew I could or would. In particular I've found that I can have a best friend, lover, and partner all in one person. I had always heard about this phenom, but I've never had it. My life always had me playing a certain role. I was a mother or wife, a provider or parent, a friend or a spectator. Today I'm more than any of those and all of those things. I feel I've arrived somewhere I didn't know was possible.

Last week I had my granddaughter for a few days. It was great to have four generations under one roof. I have to say the reason I breathe is because I live to see my grand baby, my baby. Don't get me wrong, I'm deeply in love with my children, but this little girl steals my breathe. But I'm not going to get into that love tonight, that will be for a different time, but I'm here to tell you a quick story. A story about innocence, prevalent love, and thankfulness.


Lillie, my granddaughter, just turned 3 yrs. old in April. She likes to smile and do funny little thigs that grab your heart. While visiting she loves to stake her claim on me from Michael. Her little body, her little self loves to grab me in front of my boyfriend to let him know that I belong to her. It becomes a game during her visits. My Lillie will grab me and whisper, but in a loud way, "MY GRANDMA!". So at different times Michael will grab me and loudly whisper, "MY AUTUMN!". This goes on the entire time. But this last visit, Lillie took it up a notch.



Michael does a certain thinng that only he and I know. He touches my face with his hand or hands in a loving way. He'll put the back of his hands and front of his hands gently on my face. It's loving me in his own unique way. He does it, I feel it, and it works well. It may be done with cards or poems in other relationships, but in this one, my guy touches me in a way that a hundred cards or even one thousand poems couldn't compete with. I knew what it was the first time he did it. and since then, it's become our thing. One of those things, a private gesture, that only you and your lover knows. Well, that's what I thought, anyways.


Little Lillie was watching Michael doing something and waited for his attention to look her way. When he did, she put the back and front of her hands on my face. She did it gently, as if she was handling a precious piece of china, her hands moved as smoothe as a surgeon would with their patient, and with cofidence as a ball player would, with only seconds left on the clock, bound and determined to make the buzzer beating winning shot. I hope you get the picture, but to put it in an elementary scope, she was acting like Michael touching my face. Lillie was loving me and did it mockingly towards Michael.


I tell you this because a little girl, who you're not sure could or would recognize these sorts of things or gestures, is old enough to see the love that comes my way. She's present enough and old enough to see my love. To know my Michael loves me in a certain way that I thought was only visible and recognizable to me. But Lillie was beating Michael at his own game, his own gesture. I must say that this past year has been really nice. I'm loved, I know it. I'm loved and a little girl, my baby, knows it. This love, a prevalent love, is smoothly flowing in my life and is noticible through the innocent eyes of a child, who loves her grandma.

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So what did you learn?

It's so hard to admit failure. I have a friend who talked about opening a restaurant for years. We'd drink beers together throughout the years and he always went to the same subject - his place, his restaurant. The food, the layout and his bar. He had the recipes and his head cook, he had already picked, would execute his dishes with perfection and crowds of patrons would rush to his beautiful place. He eventually opened that place and it lasted just over a year.

I was with him after that and asked how he felt about it and his answer was perfect - I did it. It wasn't about why it failed, how it wasn't his fault, or anything of the sorts. It was a simple statement, I did it. I had so much respect for his simple short 3 word response. I walked away learning something having that conversation. So many times we want to blame it on something or someone but there's times, maybe it comes with age that you accept the facts. I failed but at least I did it, I tried.

I have a whole book of failures. I am at the age where I ask myself, what did I learn from those experiences. The answer, I learn lessons and quickly grasp what not to do regarding certain aspects of business and relationships. I am at the place where I can see the positives of my failures. Although I have failed at so many things I never waiver from the fact that I shall succeed at what I'm supposed to do.

I know that I can make a call to anyone, I can structure deals and I am strong. I know that no matter what I can make it another day and I have hope. I am intelligent and I get invited to places where my opinion matters to people who matter. I have what every entrepreneur wants, individuals who will take my call on their cell phone and ho have the ability to move on an idea, concept, business venture. I can create excitement and pass my hope to others. I can still see or envision my road map. I have hope that I can create a better mousetrap.

Recently I've accepted that I am dysfunctional, but who isn't. I have a hard time being in any relationship - personal or business. I think that's because it was always my way but that isn't realistic. To have a well rounded life you have to be vulnerable. You can sacrifice, you have to give in and you have to know what battles to fight and which one's aren't worth fighting even if you think you're right. Unlike years before I don't have to be right. I don't like to fight anymore.

Instead of being right or ready to fight, I want to be invited to the party, be part of something, and have something to offer even if it's only my opinion or knowledge, Being confrontational or combative with only one side, your side, only shows one's ignorance. It guarantees you won't be invited to the next party, the next gathering.

My thoughts and my experiences are just that, mine. I can't judge anyone and I won't. I'll pick who I spend my time with but I won't judge. I might be a complete fool at somethings but I am smart enough to know that if I come up short I have no one to blame. I did it, and although I may have to fall down a dozen times before ever getting it right I'm still going to try my best at whatever I do, I'll do it so I can say I did it!

It's Nice To Be Wanted

I don't care who you are. It's nice to be wanted. Some might say it doesn't matter but I don't buy it. We go places and play roles daily and it's nice to think we bring something to the table. But sometimes just thinking you're bringing something to the table isn't as good as actually hearing it. 

From work, home life, or social circles we want to be wanted. I'll even go further and say it's nice to be told. It may be a subtle affirmation regarding the work we do or the effort we put into something. A pat on the back from a coworker who notices the box of doughnuts you picked up for the morning meeting. If you're a mother or housewife it may be as simple as someone in the home verbally acknowledging the clean sheets or socks. Or as a lover, your mate telling you how important your love truly means. Regardless, we want to be wanted.

Me personally, it's been a long time since I've received the pat, the acknowledgment, or the I love you.  But sometimes in life you have to be humbled or starved, just a bit, so you can truly appreciate the small things that we all take for granted. My humbling has me taking a new look at things. On my second take in life, I will notice that  person who wakes up early to do something nice, I will roll in my sheets a minute longer with great appreciation, and love a little deeper.

Being humbled and starved is the theory or philosophy you'll have to tell or sell yourself if you find yourself all alone. I tell you this, so you might, take a minute to do those things now and not wait for a second take like me. It's like a great novel. You only want to read about the man stranded on the island - you don't want to be the man stranded on the island! Just my thoughts.

If There's a Next Time, I'll Do Better

So I just turned 46. Plenty of time to do things in my life. A lot of time to accomplish what I want and what I dream. But there are a few things that are done and gone that I'll never get to do again.

 

 

Today would have been my 20th wedding anniversary. I was with my ex-wife, Tammie, on and off for nearly 30 years. Just kids when we started out. A confused and lost man when it ended.

 

 

I wasn't the best husband. It would be very easy to blame it on things such as youth, lack of knowledge, or childhood issues - but I can't. I was just a disrespectful, self-centered individual. Ugly characteristics I carried through much of my relationship. A relationship I'll never get to make right because its gone. We're friends today and all I can ask or hope for is that I'm a better friend to her than I was a mate. 

 

 

Realistically or probably, I'll get or could get married again. The next attempt I will be a better love. The next time I will be more respectable. I'll be like a gifted carpenter or cook who has one more time or chance to get it right. I will measure twice and cut once. Concentrate more on the written recipe then just eyeing or winging it.

 

 

I would have been a better father too. Because any man who treats his wife bad also treats his kids bad. It's my belief that any discomfort you bring into the home falls on everyone in that home. If you're oblivious or ignorant to your actions, then maybe you can go with the insanity defense, but I was neither. Just a man who should buttoned up his lip, who should have picked his battles more carefully, and who should've worn a giant wrist watch, with a loud alarm, to know when it was time to go home. 

 

 

I hope my kids and Tammie realize that I love them and did the best I could with what I had. Unfortunately I was a novice who just didn't get it right. Running a family, and loving your family, is the most important job anyone will ever have. Make it count and make it right. Just my thoughts.  

What You Take from the Day...

I had a conversation with my mother this morning about a wonderful man she worked with in Los Angeles. She's been retired from his company for some time and has since relocated to Las Vegas. She was in LA this past week and weekend and visited with this former boss who she has known for the past 27 years.  To refer to him as former boss wouldn't be the correct title as much as a dear friend. I tell you this because she arrived back home, in Las Vegas, with a smile and a happy heart after seeing all that this nice man, friend, has done with his business after some troubled and uncertain times he, his family and employees faced.

I write about this not to tell you about her thoughts or opinions but about what I took from the conversation. My mom was happy. This happiness wasn't due to anything tangible or monetary that she received from her visit but a pure happiness from what she witnessed in another human being. I guess I'm referring to that old saying "sometimes you have to take time to smell the flowers".

I had the same feeling yesterday watching Jordan Spieth win the Master's Golf Tournament. To see a young man accomplish the win and set so many records I couldn't help but feel happy, great, proud and so many other emotions for him and his family. I don't know him, as a matter of fact I had never heard of him prior to this weekend, but yet I felt something wonderful as a parent. I can't exactly put my finger on it but I think it was a sense of pride that so many things go into a great moment.

Hard work, opportunity and luck are just a few of the factors that factor into a great moment. I had no hand in any of those "coming together" factors but was blessed to get an opportunity to watch a wonderful win and what appears a hard working young man attain a dream. A moment.

I encourage anyone who may come across this to take your time to admire, not envy, someone else's happiness. Relate to it as a parent, a family member, or former employee. What ever the tie in, do it, because happiness for others brings hope for others when you tell the story. That story could be of a former boss, a golfer, or any individual you've observed doing great things. It's what you take from the day. Just this man's opinion!

WORD!

I started going to church a couple of months ago. I grew up Catholic and was nervous to try anything else. I have been so use to saying "I'm Catholic" since I was a child and well into my adult life. If anyone ever invited me to try their church I never took their offer in fear that they might talk in tongues or do a guitar solo while preaching the word and staring me in the eye. I was convinced I would break out into laughter or be so embarrassed that I'd have to excuse myself. But with all that said you would never find me inside a Catholic Church on Sunday because I was just too busy or nursing a hangover. But regardless of the excuse, I was content on going with my story - "I'm Catholic".

About three months ago I met a lady and we exchanged stories. She had just left hospice saying her final goodbyes to a friend who was on her last hours of life. I could tell she was upset and I offered her a few words of something. I say something because I wasn't sure what it was I was saying or trying to offer. This woman, who is at least twenty years or so older than me, needed an ear and I was there. I felt it was only polite that I extend a few words of something to make her feel better. The only thing I could muster up was my similar story of saying goodbye to a loved one. She returned the favor by extending her ear.

After all was said and done she said, "do you mind if I have a man call you?" I was confused but then she continued by explaining that there was a program at her church. "Oh no" I thought, here comes the religious rub. But it never went there, but out of common courtesy and since we had a moment of sorts, I gave her my telephone number. Hoping that the call wouldn't come!

Two days later the call came. It was from a man who asked if I'd like to meet for coffee. Before the call came I had time to think about my encounter with this woman and several others - all centered around faith, belief, and God. It occurred to me that something or someone was trying get my attention or get me help. So I agreed to the cup of coffee.

When you lose someone in your life you find yourself looking for signs. You find yourself asking for the signs when you're alone. A flickering light, a sudden sound, or anything to give you validation that your love one is nearby. My signs usually come through music. My son will throw a song my way occasionally. It might just be the local DJ, but I always give the credit to Landen. The Cure, The Counting Crows, The Smith's - Landen. This call that came from the man - Landen. He wanted something for me, something to ease the pain - music only goes so far. 

A good cup of coffee and the company of a stranger might do me good I thought. Plus, if someone was willing to take an hour out of their schedule then who was I to pass up the offer. So we scheduled our meeting. I was worried that it was going to be all about religion but I came to the conclusion that maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The man who called that day was Jim. We met as scheduled and he said he was there because he had heard I had went through a tough patch and if I wanted to talk he was a good listener. I took him up on the offer and spilled my guts. At some point I asked about the church. He told me he was part of a program that helps individuals in the community who might need an outlet to discuss things or just a person talk to. He never once went into religion. He did at one point tell me that he wasn't sure about anything, including God, but he was sure that his beliefs work for him and his life.

I must admit that I was impressed with this man. He's a successful business man who fit me into his busy schedule. Most impressive to me was that he fit me in during the work week. It was as if his program at church was just as important as his company. I was a meeting, a part of the program, that was comparible to his next big contract. He had a job to do for the church and he was going to do it regardless of the time or day.

I was happy I went to the meeting. I made a friend and I felt like I had someone on my side. It was just a talk but it made me curious about the church. I thought this place, this church, might be for me if everyone else was like Jim. It was less than a week before the lady I had the original talk with called and invited me to that weekend's church service with her and her husband. I accepted the offer. It all came together.

The day after my brother-in-law passed away I had a place to go and pray. I had a place. The church is amazing and everyone I have met through the church is wonderful. I get so much out of it considering I only spend an hour out of my week there on Sunday. I feel stupid that I didn't attend sooner. I guess it's sort of like a gas station. You fill-up and you can go a greater distance. To date I have not heard anyone speak in tongue nor has there been a strumming guitar player making eye contact with me. I feel better having a place to call my own. WORD!

A whisper

I want to share a story from my bro-in-law's funeral. The service was incredible. I'm not sure if that's the right word or appropriate, but that's the only word I can use to describe the service.

I arrived after most of the other family members. So many emotions went through my head on the drive there. I was sick to my stomache. But after watching all the people shuffle in and all the stories people shared I felt much different leaving than I did when I arrived. I felt like Steve was laid to rest and at peace.

His life was celebrated and the stories people shared were in line with who he was. Most stories started out with Steve having a beer, a cig, some foul words, and an incident that was worth sharing. Almost every encounter you had with him turned out to be a story you wanted to share with someone.

For me I was always impressed with his carefree attitude. He didn't care what anyone thought of him - what he did or what he said. Something I'm not able to do. I always worry about what people might say or think if I speak my mind openly or if I do something out of the norm. Not Steve, he did what he wanted to. It was a quality I admired about him.

When the service was over I was in line to say my final good-bye. I was in line behind someone, this someone was a member of his wife's family. I may have been too close because I heard her last words.

She whispered to Steve, "I will make sure your kids are taken care of, don't you worry."

I had mixed emotions. I was upset that he wouldn't be here to do that himself. My thoughts were with the kids and how he wouldn't be here any longer to offer a touch, a word, or sense of security that only a father can. I was saddened by the fact that he was no longer here. But then I thought, he's in a place now where he'll be able to do great things for the kids and will always be with them. Something he may not have been able to do while he was here.

That whisper I heard was sincere and real. This family member, who I won't mention out of respect for her privacy, is an individual who does what she says. She's an individual who makes me feel safe & secure when I'm in the same room with her. Her demanor is tough but it has a sprinkle of love to it. I knew she meant it when I heard her say, "I will make sure your kids are taken care of, don't you worry."

I have written about Steve daily for the last six days because his passing has hurt me. He was my family and my friend. So many memories and so many years together in the same family. It feels so empty losing a brother. I wish I could have one more beer, one more cig, or one more foul word together. Rest in peace my brother.

The Drive-Thru Window

Kaylee went to the doctor yesterday for her follow up regarding her recent shoulder replacement. The doctor said it looks good and is amazed at her tolerance for pain. This tolerance is attributed to the pain she had been living with for such a long time regarding her bone deterioration. The shoulder looks good and she is recovering just fine.

It is so surreal to see such a young person, especially your child, having so many medical issues. Kaylee's life has been altered because of all this. While her friends are working,going to school, and living as you'd expect, her world is centered around medical appointments, procedures, and physical limitations. Not a life I had envisioned for her. But the key word here is - "LIFE".

When all the traumatic events unfolded, way back when, with the doctor saying "sorry it's cancer" I literally fell to my knees and begged God to leave her here. At any cost. I didn't want him to take her from us. At one point I pleaded that he could take anything from her - legs, hands, torso, anything - just let here be with us. It's amazing what you will do when you think you're about to loose something, especially a child. 

I have so many friendships that were established from our long stays at Children's Mercy Hospital. Unfortunately, some of those friendships are with parents whose children didn't make it. So heartbreaking. Especially when you know them, the kids, and the fight they went through. It's so close to home and relevant to your life that you almost keep your distance. I mean you feel their pain and you cry because your heart hurts so bad but at the end of the day you know you are in the same pool when medical professionals are talking to you about percentages, mortality rates, and statics. Scary shit!   

I think back to day the doctors told us about the cancer. Me and Tammie, not being an Oncologist or anything close to it, were forced to make decisions regarding treatment. I think they gave us a twenty minute talk about options. Option one) accept a treatment that has worked well since 1972. Or Option 2) take part in a study that has even better results then the 25 yr. old procedure but roll the dice on the side-effects and unknowns.

The door shuts. Hmm? "What do you think Tammie?" She replies, "I have know idea." All the while I'm thinking, I have trouble effectively ordering food from a drive-thru window and I am suppose to make a decision on cancer treatments for the most important thing in my life. Finally I said "lets ask the doctor what he would do if it was his kid OR we can flip a coin." We asked the doctor. Being put in the position to make a decision like that is very difficult. But we made it and the treatment worked. Unfortunately Kaylee got stuck with some ugly and debilitating side-effects but she's here and that's what matters most.

If these bone issues are what we have to deal with, then so be it, I'm fine with that as a parent. I'm just glad he didn't take her. I will be glad when we can get this behind us and move on. It seems like it never ends as far as having commitments and obligations to issues that surrounded the leukemia. Appointments, surgeries, and up & downs. But I will tell you this, no matter what comes our way, I will fight and do whatever it takes for my daughter or anyone else that may need help. Speaking from experience, with Kaylee and Landen, being inside a room, trying to make a life or death decision for your child, is the worst and most difficult thing I think a person could ever face. If you've been there then you know what I mean. It's something I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

I'm just glad Kaylee's here. She is such a beautiful person. I've never heard her complain or take pity for herself. She takes everything in stride and stays strong around us even when I know she's feeling low. She's had a few limitations the last few years because of the illness but she lives life on her terms. She isn't a little girl any more and with all she's had to deal with she probably had to grow up a little faster than other children. My daughter and her life is a blessing.

Something Isn't Right

I made it through the scare of losing Kaylee to leukemia. A roller coaster ride that lasted years. But just as that nightmare ended, another one started. My son Landen, a beautiful and healthy 20 yr. old boy, was killed while riding his skateboard in San Marcos, CA. The death, delivered by a hit and run driver, has left me lost and devastated. My head hasn't been right and my heart hurts beyond words. I'm damaged.

I know you're suppose to grieve and come to terms with situations but I feel like I am sick. The illness that struck Kaylee combined with the loss of Landen has left me drained. It has sunk me so far into depression that I pray each night for the strength to make it through the next day. I have no one to talk because I feel like no one understands. I find it hard to go to sleep because I don't want to wake up or face the next day. I haven't received any professional help, which I need badly, because it's a service I can't afford at the moment. My family is also suffering. They know something isn't right with dad.

I'm so disappointed with myself because I feel I've let so many people down. I spent so many years trying to help others and do kind things but now I can't even help myself. So many things have turned bad. I have always taken care of my family but I have fallen down and I haven't been able to pick myself up. Financially I have went belly-up. My drive and ambition disappeared January 13, 2012. The day Landen was pulled from life support.

Sometimes I think how bad things were when we spent nearly two years in the hospital with Kaylee. I try to find strength in those sad days. Days we sat there not knowing what was going to happen next. Days we would have given anything to have our little girl's health back. But it's hard to compare because I have to deal with the fact that my boy is dead. A young man who had a whole life ahead of him. I sometimes wish I was with him because I don't want him to be alone.

Sadness, sadness from heartbreak and loss, physically hurts. My heart beats but it feels broken. I had so many things I needed to say to him. I wanted to watch him surf. I wanted to watch him get married. I wanted to see him become a man. A great man. Those things will never come now and it hurts. So many people say he's in a better place but that doesn't always help. It's something you say because there isn't anything else to say.

Kaylee had a shoulder replacement last week. She's been in bed recuperating. She's been sleeping propped up with a shoulder sling that looks so uncomfortable. The doctors predict she may need the other shoulder replaced sometime as well as her knees. There's also talk of her ankles needing a fuse job. Unbelievable. She just turned 20 yrs. old and she's having work done that an unlucky 80 yr. old would have. The prolong chemo and steroid use has devastated her little body. A tough thing to watch. But I begged God to leave her here, and he did, so I can't be too sad or mad. It's the hand we've been dealt.

You never know what life is going to give you. Some say that God only gives the strong the big loads. If that's true, I need to get a message to him soon so I can let him know that my legs are weak and my back is hurt and I can't take another load. It's funny how you can go through life and feel invincible until something hits you hard. I do believe there is something behind all this but I just haven't figured it out yet. I guess its what I do with it and how I come out of it.  
  

Appreciation

This morning I went to McDonald's at 7:30 am. I made my selection through the drive-thru and proceeded to the first window to pay. After dishing out my $8.24 for breakfast for two, I headed to the second window to pickup my order. The window opened and there stood a woman in her mid-forties. Her smile was genuine.

I often go to this McDonald's because it is close to the house. I know most everyone there because I have a habit of talking to anyone and everyone. I had never seen this woman so I assume she is new. Since the wind was a little chilly this morning I told her she needed a coat. Her response was that she was fine and that it was warm enough inside the restaurant. She said all that without losing her smile on her face. I could tell that this lady was sincerely happy.

The unusual part of this whole transaction was that I got the feeling that this lady was happy to be where she was. We all frequent drive-thrus weekly if not daily and to take notice of something as simple as a fast food worker was out of the ordinary for me and probably for any of us. But that smile was intriguing to me.

I came to the conclusion that this woman was happy that she was employed and it didn't matter where it was. I was impressed. Most of us wouldn't want to be working in a McDonald's but you never know when being accepted will come as a blessing. I am totally speculating about this whole scenario, but I couldn't help but play out the different reasons how Ms. McDonald arrived at the window serving me my meal. I thought she may have applied at several different jobs without any response. McDonald's may have been her only offer and she was happy to take the employment - regardless.

Why I took the time to ponder this lady and her situation was and is somewhat puzzling. I actually felt wonderful for her and it made me feel great. Seeing someone with a smile on their face makes me feel good. I get pleasure from happy people. I think I'm in love with happiness. To see people content and with joy fills me with admiration but sometimes it's envy that I feel.

So often I am restless and unsatisfied. Not that I should be but I think it's human nature to want more, to sometimes think you should be somewhere else or that you deserve more. The unfortunate thing is that we don't realize we are on the path that we are suppose to be on until we get to where we're going. I often want to fast track the process but it doesn't work that way. You sometimes have to go through the shit to get to the gold.

I was sidelined for an entire year due to an injury last April. I was in the hospital for nearly a month and was confined to a rented hospital bed for four months wondering - why me. I couldn't figure out what the plan was for me and how broken bones fit into the plan. I still have trouble walking and the pain in my legs becomes unbearable sometimes but I have realized that God took my wheels away from me because I was on a crash course. After Kaylee's sickness I was making up for lost time by going out more than I should have. I was socializing with a crowd who had little responsibility and time to kill. That association nearly cost me my life.

Today I know where I am going and the reasons why I had time to gain clarity. It was part of my road to stop and evaluate my life and take stock. It was the best thing that happened to me. I found a new appreciation for my life and the direction I'm heading in. The nasty accident wasn't what I would have wished for but it was delivered and I have to thank God my brain wasn't injured. My strengths are my creativity and drive. So after my encounter with Ms. McDonald I am going to smile a little more and be thankful that I have a goal and mission in life. Slinging Egg McMuffins might not be for me but I do appreciate that there is something for everyone!

Windows

Hello! It's been awhile since I've written a blog or even looked at the blog. My daughter Kaylee is doing great. She just completed her first semester and she is loving it. Although she has to see her Oncologists on a scheduled timetable the trips are far less as frequent as they use to be. When she goes it is to check her blood and immune system. I wish I could tell you more about it but I can't because I'm not the medical guru I should be.

Kaylee's body was damaged during the chemo and steroid cycles. The steroids and chemo affected/destroyed her cartilage, tendons, and ligaments in her shoulders and ankles. The hips might be damaged as well but the true pain is in her shoulders. We recently found a great doctor who is trying everything in the book to save Kay from having shoulder replacement surgery. The fact that she is so young is troubling because the surgery only lasts 10 - 20 years which means she'll have more than a few in her lifetime.

I looked at the blog today and thought to myself how things change. When I started this thing I was such a mess. Sadness dominated my day and the thought of loss, loss of my daughter, paralyzed me. Today is totally different. My thoughts and worries have drifted away from sickness and the roller coaster ride it brings, to other things. Some of you might have the perfect life and if you do I applaud you, but for me it seems that there's always something that I'm having to deal with that I don't want to. Nothing is comparable to the battle my kid had to fight with cancer but there are things that seem to inflict just the same.

When I lived in San Diego I would fall asleep looking out the window on my side of the bed. The view has absolutely beautiful. Our home sat in a canyon and you could see across the other side and it appeared as if there were a mountain ridge an arm reach away. If the moon was out it was as if you were looking at a postcard picture. I sometimes recognized the beauty but more times than not - I didn't. My mind was always racing with events that had transpired during the day, upcoming obligations, or whatever else I could find. I write about it today, because just like that window, there are beautiful things around me that I don't take the time to notice because I am too focused on other things in my life. And just like that window, it isn't until months or years later that I realize what I had in front of me.

I tell myself time and time again to slow down and enjoy the moment but for some reason I find it hard to do. I don't think I do it intentionally, it's just the way I'm programmed. I rush, rush, rush, for no apparent reason. Raising my children I truly appreciated all the moments not while they were happening but years later. I'm a three year guy. It takes me three years to recognize the beauty that I had in front of me. Why I'm writing this I have no idea, but I'm guessing that its because I've let too many things slide by and I'm not going to do it anymore.

Life is too short to be miserable. Negativity and ugliness in your life can be replaced with good positive things. Don't be a three year man or woman. Enjoy today and all that it brings. If something brings you down or if you find it is rotten, cut it off. Life goes too quickly and it's too easy to settle for things that aren't healthy. Take my advice and recognize the beauty that is in front of you while it is there. If you find beauty in a window while you lay down to sleep then enjoy the million dollar view and appreciate it because you never know when the scenery might change.

ACT TWO

My beautiful daughter, Kaylee, is 18 yrs. old now and attending NW Missouri State. It's her Freshman year. The name fits appropriately because it's a fresh start for her. The thought was always there but when her school didn't submit her picture in the yearbook it sealed it for me. She needs a fresh start.

Tonight I picked her up at school in Maryville, MO for her appointments and commitments she has with Children's Mercy Hospital tomorrow. It was my first time there because when she moved a few weeks ago I was in a wheelchair and it was 100 degrees and I would have been in the way. If you didn't hear I was attacked on April 25th at a bar by several young men and was left with a broken arm and leg. I was in St. Luke's for nearly 30 days and acquired blood clots during my nice stay. Oh, I also was in bed for nearly four months but that's a different blog and old news.

Kaylee's room is cozy and Tammie made it very comfortable. Kaylee is roommates with her best friend Alyssa. Her friends Amanda and Halley are three doors down from them as well. Kaylee looked so grown-up when she came down to let me and Tam in her dorm. The ride wasn't bad and when she was with us going home it felt really nice. I miss her madly but I don't call her much. It's not that I don't want to call but I find it easier to not get caught up calling and pestering. I think she's known me long enough to know that it's my way of letting her go into the big world without me.

It's amazing how everything moves. People grow and change and their scenery changes too. I have been a few places and have come across many different people because I too branched out. I first left at 19 yrs. of age for California. I lived in San Diego with several guys from KC. It was so fun. I tried college for a couple semesters but it was never my thing. I wish I had a degree right now especially since my livelihood relies on me to hustle a buck to feed my family. I wonder what it would be like to go to work and collect money from someone else besides myself. This last few months have been a challenge. I've been laid up and it seems like one set back after another.

I've decided to write again. This time I'm going to do it because the release I received last time from my writing was very healthy but it won't be for survival this time around or to get me through the day. This time it will be because I can use the release again but not necessarily for survival but for the therapeutic adjustments it produce within myself. This time it won't be so much about Kaylee but about me and my travels. I am at a crossroad in my life personally and how it unfolds is going to be interesting. At least to me and those around me who depend on me. For some reason I lost myself over the course of the last few years and I need to regroup. It might work out or there's a good possibility that I might fall on my face. I really can't afford to fall on my face right now so I have to get busy and take control of the reigns of my life and succeed at whatever I do.

I have been in advertising for sometime now and I just dropped that from my new business plan. I am going to concentrate on networks, the assembly of networks, and new products. The effort and time it takes to sell ads is just to demanding and took control of my life. Do good and you're a hero, sell nothing and you're a zero. I want to create and make money and put people to work. The advertising world is made up of people who aren't like me. I conformed to that instead of going in the direction I wanted to because it paid the bills. Like one of my partners once said, "you shouldn't be in the ad biz if you don't want to sell ads" and he was right. As a matter of fact so many people were right and I turned into the person that wasn't me. But into the person that I thought everyone else wanted me to be. Not sure if that sounds right but it makes sense to me. I had people invest in me because I was creative then all of a sudden I was suppose to shelf this creative person and turn into an Advertising Executive. Not me. I am going to sell but its going to be products and services and everyone else can do the selling of advertising to fuel the machine but it won't be me!

A Mother...

Tonight I talked with a friend from high school who is battling cancer, breast cancer. I've known of her sickness for some time but stayed away from the situation. Tonight I couldn't help but get emotionally touched by the story.

I called to check in with the family and found out that the cancer had spread to the kidneys. I also found out that their only car was taken away from them for registration problems. It was apparent that she was trying to keep a positive voice about it but I heard her break for just a moment. It was then that I thought of my mother.

My mom is a cancer survivor. She was young and a single mother when sickness came knocking. I can hardly think about the fear she must of felt. My mom. For some reason when I was talking to my friend my mother's voice was on the other line. It wasn't really but for a moment I pictured my mother talking to some man, maybe someone like me who might be able to help and it affected me. What if that was my mom 40 years ago?

I say that because I wonder if my mom needed help way back when. If she did, was there anyone in particular that she thought might be able to help. Would she ask? Did she ask? Well my friend didn't ask but I offered to throw it out there to see if someone I know might be able to help the family with a car. For months now I never offered anything to the family. My hands were full with my own projects. I help sick kids and families with sick kids. It's my passion to ease the burden, if just a bit, for families with sick kids. But tonight it dawned on me that this friend, this mother, is a daughter of someone. She has to worry about her kids and how the sickness is affecting them. Her burden or her fright has to be overwhelming.

I cried. I called my mom and cried. It hit me hard that this friend may pass away and how shitty is it that you would have to spend any time worrying about transportation. But that is their reality and their burden combined with cancer. I hate to see it but if I can put the word out and help in any manner then maybe just maybe some of their worry might be relieved. Please help this family if you can and consider that this could be your daughter, your sister, or even your mom!

Saving Santos...

I am pleased to announce that Santos Arreola made it to Arizona for his new round of treatments. The facility specializes in alternative care and Santos needs to raise money to pay for the scheduled treatments. I am posting the info for his fund in this post and I ask everyone who follows my blog to please contribute to his fund. I went to a CPA Wednesday to get the fund transferred from a charity fund to a foundation so it can have tax benefits for those who are looking for the write off. But until that happens please help this child and mother.

If it was me I don't know what I would do. I probably would consider cruising in a convertible with a bull horn so I could get every one's attention. If you have never battled sickness in your child then I can't begin to explain the fright, scare, and helplessness one feels. You can't really grasp the feeling of not understanding why everyone isn't fundraising for your kid because you personally love your child more than life itself. That didn't come out grammatically correct but you know what I mean.

Derek Fisher, a Los Angeles Laker, was informed that his daughter had eye cancer. It made breaking news, front page of the paper, and several talk shows. I couldn't understand why his child got a ticker tape on the bottom of every major channel and my daughter barely made the paper. Sure I know Derek is famous but that didn't matter to me. My kid is just important. This was the attitude I had at the time. Today I know that there is a method to the madness. It's getting your story in front of people. This is where I come in.

I will fight to get a child in the public. I will do it with phone calls, I will do it face to face, or I'll do it with emails. So if it seems like I'm always selling myself - it's because I am! I want people to answer my calls. I want people to know about the special kids I get the opportunity to meet. It is a blessing to see first hand the fight so many families face because it motivates you to do something.

So tonight I ask you to join my fight for Santos Arreola. Put yourself in his mother's place tonight and think how hard it would be for you and your family. Contribute to the saving Santos fund!

Check out his Mother's blog http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/santosarreola

Industrial State Bank

Att: Santos Arreola Treatment Fund

Account # 130000794872

P.O Box 6007

Kansas City, KS 66106

American Idol

I cry every time I watch AI! I'm not sure why but I have my suspicions! I think it's because I keep thinking that these kids are children of someone. Sounds strange but when I hear someone with a great voice I feel a sense of - Pride. Crazy but I think how proud I would be if it was my kid. I get emotional hearing a good voice, what can I say.

When I see someone cry I want to cry. When I see someone do good I want to cheer. I love to see people succeed. I sometimes don't get why everyone is not that way. Seriously, I want everyone to do good. To see someone try and change, to see someone become passionate, to see someone find their thing makes me feel good. So I guess that is why I am weak for a good voice. A good voice is usually a sign of practice and passion. I sing in the car and shower but would never attempt to do it in public. So if someone does break out in song it usually signifies that someone has practiced on their pitch and I applaud that! Usually.

Please read my story that came out today in the Lee's Summit Journal. One-80 by Michael Quijas http://www.lsjournal.com/100/story/23639.html

One-80

I need your help today. Please go to http://www.myfirst180.com/ and purchase my ebook for $12.00. This money is going to help with 10 Kids Insured, The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, and all the other charitable work that seems to find me. Please help me announce this exciting news to everyone you know. I feel comfortable saying "you never know when you might need a helping hand too."

Shirley Temple

I joined Facebook! Kaylee is embarrassed but I have so many people I've reconnected with that I'm going to stay on it regardless. That site is amazing. It is reconnecting me with so many people I haven't talked to in such a long time. The fun thing for me has been reuniting with people that I lost contact with when I left the KCK school district. Although I love my folks from Shawnee Mission North it is nice to reconnect to your roots.

The people I have connected with look so good and seem to be doing great. As I get older (and wiser?) I sincerely feel good when I know others are doing good. Some people could careless if others are doing good, but I love to hear when life is treating others well. I guess I think we all deserve a good life.

Life is what you make of it. Last night I had to go to the hospital to visit a friend, a family member, Paul Vega. He was assaulted at a nightclub Thursday and was hurt severely. His head was fractured and his nose was broken. Paul is the toughest man I know and it goes to show you don't always win every battle. But when I was there I observed his gown, his hospital issued booty's, and his swollen face. I couldn't help but think that he is only human and didn't deserve the hurt he received. Tammie told me to take a good look at him and consider what could happen if you put yourself in the wrong situation. I did. Although it was a random attack it was just being there that led to his admission into ICU.

After leaving there I was suppose to meet a few guys out for some drinks but I went home instead. What happened to Paul could happen to me. It never fails that every time I go out someone always brings up how tough I was as a kid. This usually begins with someone mentioning it to me and whatever group I'm with. Then they point it out to others I don't know. Well you never know who wants to see if you still have it. I suspect that's what may have happened to Paul. I even have guys with me that will start trouble just knowing I'm there. Little do most of them know that it breaks my heart to think of anyone having to spend one night in the hospital. Especially if it was me!

Almost all of us have people that love us. I have kids, a wife, a mother, sisters, all of whom would be devastated if I was to get hurt. It wouldn't matter how I got hurt they would be heartbroken. I watched Paul's kids cry as their father lay there unrecognizable from his injuries. I looked at those same injuries and couldn't help but think how fragile our existence is. Tough to think how injury, sickness, or death can hurt and heartbreak a family.

It was sometime back that I was mad that Kaylee had gotten sick. The anger was there and Tammie was scared when I would go out. She worried that it might set me off if I was out and someone did something to trigger it. I would tell her she was crazy and continue to get dressed. But she was right. Drinking and socializing in places with strangers can be dangerous if you come across the wrong person. Hell, it could be me who could hurt someone. How ironic would that be. Me, so in tune with hurt and heartbreak and I accidentally hurt someone. That would be my luck. My irresponsible actions would place a kid, a wife, mother and sisters next to some poor guy in a hospital bed.

So from this point forward I'm drinking Shirley Temples and hanging out at the local Chuck E Cheese! Well maybe not the Chuck E Cheese but you get the point.