motivations out there. Now, everything I do is for God and my future kids, to be
a great example of doing the best I could with what I was given. Miss the girls
so much!!
just got off the phone with a very beautiful soul. The last time I saw her, she was around 4. Her little sister was 2 the day I realized I couldn't pick her up. It was the first day I ever started thinking about my own kids and how I would be able to play with them, comfort or protect them. For several years, I couldn't stand it. Now, I am so grateful for that day. I choose to focus on what it taught me: love is one of the greatest motivations out there. Now, everything I do is for God and my future kids, to be a great example of doing the best I could with what I was given. Miss the girls so much!!
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![]() Audrey Niffenegger VIDEOS CONTAIN SPOILERS!!! A dazzling novel in the most untraditional fashion, this is the remarkable story of Henry DeTamble, a dashing, adventuresome librarian who travels involuntarily through time, and Clare Abshire, an artist whose life takes a natural sequential course. Henry and Clare's passionate love affair endures across a sea of time and captures the two lovers in an impossibly romantic trap, and it is Audrey Niffenegger's cinematic storytelling that makes the novel's unconventional chronology so vibrantly triumphant. -- Summary from amazon.com "It is my all-time favorite novel, but read the book before you watch the movie." - Sarah Hamlin ![]() NAMES IN THIS POST ARE CHANGED FOR PRIVACY When I first entered elementary school, I was very shy and my assistant then, recalled that I came off the bus in my little hot pink wheelchair with my head hanging low. I was incredibly fragile and very scared. But Mrs. C. quickly became one of my most trusted aids. Her dedication and personal concern to my success was outstanding and beautiful. In my first year of second grade, I had my second leg surgery and was in the hospital in casts up to my waist for a long time. Everyone was there to offer my mother support in caring for me while I recovered. It was incredibly painful, but so motivting, and Mrs. C. made a special visit to color with me in bed. When I returned to school, she was there. She would push me around in my recliner as she went about her day to keep my mind focused on the good things. When I recovered, she had helped me through my anxiety of being followed around by a camera crew and she encouraged me and reminded me of why they wanted to film me: to inspire, to be a voice and a symbol. In the next year, she taught me "finger talk", or Helen Keller's language. I remember how we went for a few weeks only communicating in the "finger talk" and it is because of this, that I can now do it so fast and accurately during a severe, non-verbal panic attack. Around the age of 9, I started expressing my desire to advocate. One day, she made all of my classmates go throughout their day only using one arm. She would take me out to lunch and when the weather permitted, go outside and do fun mini photoshoots with me and our friend, Meg. After 5 consecutive years together, Mrs. C. finally broke the news to me that she was not going to be my assistant anymore. I was walking down te hall with her when she told me and I was overcome by weakness and tears. Since then, I've had to learn to develop new relationships almost very year, with new aids. It was extremely difficult to move. My high school's annex was attached to the other end of my elementary school, and leaving for 2 years was nearly impossible, at first. I was suddenly told that Mrs. C. was planning to retire by the time I came up to the annex and was deeply upset. That's when Mark came along... ![]() "Birdy" age 15 (CLICK FOR LARGER IMAGE) I just discovered Jasmine van den Bogaerde, a 16-year-old British musician, who got her start after becoming a Youtube sensation. This song in particular, struck me. It's called "Shelter". I listened very carefully to the lyrics and immediately fell in love with the heart Birdy was protraying. It also reminded me of a painting that was featured in this year's Unique exibit. The painting was of a bruised heart, and down the middle, was a zipper. It wasn't until I heard this song that I truly saw undereath that zipper. To me, the painting expressed the healing process, not always quick to heal from pain, yet at some point, doing so. It has been on my heart tonight to post about our inner voice and thoughts. Having tried at suicide 3 times in the past 7 years, I have only now, just begun to come to terms with them, reflecting on the understandable reasons as to why, I tried to end my life so many times. I was young and severely physically challenged, my left arm being the only limb I could use without help. Growing up, I faced the "war of words" from many people, including someone dear to me. Having to deal with constant verbal attacks day after day, little bits managed to plant themselves in the soil of my self-esteem. It was the last thing I needed after realizing how different I looked to other people. I was around 14 or so, when my mother let me look at my records, displaying notes on my birth, adoption and brain injury. Even though I had known since the very beginning that I was adopted, looking through all those fading papers and staring my birth mother's name in the face, was a very emotional experience for me. I wrote in a journal that day something along these lines: "These pages are thistles, in that they are a blessing, but painful. It has given me a little more closure knowing why I am the way I am. I am so blessed to be so smart and talented. They [the doctors] tracked my congnitive progress for quite a while, and in each chart, I am shown progressing..." Having this closure, I was still wondering what could've happened to my birth mother, to make her feel that cocaine was the only escape from her pain and anxiety. For years, I pictured myself inside her womb, so innocent, so fragile... My mother (adoptive) later spoke with my pediatrician about the relationship between my birth mom's addiction and my present condition, and my doctor explained that the drug use most likely led to me being premature, ultimately resulting in a severe form of CP. For the past 4 years, I have struggled with hiding behind my clothes. I often sleep as a way to escape and dream what I want my life to look like. With the encouraging support of my church and counselor, I am starting to come out of my comfort zone. Other people can only help so much. It's when YOU decide to become a TEAM with GOD, that things start shifting. Learning that my voice is just as important as anyone else's was HUGE in my recovery. Using that newly found voice can be an obstacle, and I still have yet to really express it. From all of what I have experienced, my heart has been calloused in a way. I am slowly, slowly healing from all of the emotional pain I have endured, with the loving help of God and my family. Through it all, I have been given the blessing of compassion and an ovewhelming desire to help others less fortunate than myself. I thank God that He has given me the drive to work toward my dreams, no matter what how high the climb. Like the zipper in the heart painting suggested, though we may heal from our pain, scars sometimes show. Because we have these scars, we are living examples of how every experience we go through, makes us a stronger version of ourselves. They tell people, "yes, I've been there, but got through it and push on... an so can you." "Shelter" by Birdy lyrics can be read/listened to below by clicking this link:
http://www.metrolyrics.com/shelter-lyrics-birdy.html |
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