Pumpkin Patch

If you are here to read the six-part series featuring domestic violence, please click here.


We helped this lovely lady



celebrate her second birthday at the pumpkin patch recently.

What a carefree fall day it was...











...until the hay rack ride.

This is when J saw the smoke and exhaust from the tractor and slapped us back into reality by saying, "I don't think this is a good idea guys. That causes acid rain."

What!?!







He pouted for awhile...



but soon was back to enjoying our carefree adventure.




That's right, son. We're not going to let the global worries of this world
acid rain on our parade.

Rub-a-dub-dub

If you are here to read the six-part series featuring domestic violence, please click here.


Feeling exhausted after a long day, have you ever thought to yourself, "Let's just skip the kids' baths tonight," but then you realize that they haven't been properly bathed in four days?

Ya, me neither.

Back to the Usual

If you are here to read the six-part series featuring domestic violence, please click here.



Inhale.............................

Exhale.............................

Again...........in................hold it............and let it out.

(Insert big sigh here.)

Whew!

Wow, that series was much more difficult for me than I had anticipated.

I'm ready to get back to to my more familiar lighthearted blogging.

Anyone with me?

Beautiful

Mom...

Daughter...







Sister...

























Granddaughter...

Nurse...






Aunt...









Friend...

Deeply loved...

Greatly missed...

Beautiful...

IF YOU ARE IN VIOLENT RELATIONSHIP, there is HOPE even in your situation. YOU are BEAUTIFUL!




For more information or to get help, please call:

THE NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HOTLINE at 1-800-799-7233

THE NATIONAL SEXUAL ASSAULT HOTLINE AT 1-800-656-4673

THE NATIONAL TEEN DATING ABUSE HOTLINE AT 1-866-331-9474

National Coalition Against Domestic Violence



Thank you, thank you, thank you to T, J, P, and M for teaming up with me to get the word out about domestic violence. You are all so brave for sharing such a personal story in order to raise awareness for other families affected by domestic violence. I can't thank you enough! I continue to pray for each of you. Even though the past seven years have flown by, I know that life has not been a walk in the park for you. I often look at you and think about how proud your mom would be to see you growing up. I love you each dearly!

Again, a monetary donation to a local women and children's shelter will be made for every comment made. Please support this cause!

This is the sixth post in a six-part series about domestic violence. Click to view other posts in this series.
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Her Bright Smile

M was 8 years old on that life-changing night. He is now 15 and doing his best to "make them proud."



What's your favorite memory or memories of your mom?

In kindergarten when I would have a half day of school we would go and eat Chinese food.







What do you miss most about your mom?



Seeing her every day, and her bright smile.





Today, what would you tell an 8 year old who lost both his parents like you did?


Life is tough, but they would want you to succeed in life. Make them proud.






If you were blessed to know Kathy, take this moment to tell her courageous and precious children about what you miss or your favorite memories of her. Memories can't be taken away.

For every comment made this week (kindly leave at least your first name and location please), my family will make an additional monetary donation to our local women’s and children’s shelter in Kathy’s memory from her children. Please offer your prayers, thanks, support, and appreciation for T, J, P, and M. They really did put it all out there for this. Although they may not know it, sharing their perspectives is admirable and courageous, and it just might save a life.

This is the fifth post in a six-part series about domestic violence. Click to view other posts in this series.
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When Angels Sing

Just ten when her she lost her parents, sixteen-year-old P has written a song and poem about her mother.


When Angels Sing

A song dedicated to my mom Kathy.

When the Angel's sing, when the heavens open wide,
I can hear the melody echoing across the sky.
I can see the gate of heaven open wide before my eyes.
I'm just one step from heaven, one step from going inside but Lord I'm not ready.
I'm just not quite ready to give it all away, to rush into the floating clouds above.
When the Angel's sing you can hear them far and wide, you can hear them near and out.
It's as peaceful as a feather floating by, and when the sun comes out it takes away your sorrow, lifts it high above the clouds, drifts it off into space, where you can hear the Angel's singing voices.
When the Angel's sing you can see their shining faces looking down upon us all, and it makes me feel good to know I have a guardian Angel, who watches over me, who makes me feel safe, and when I'm all alone with nobody to talk to, I think to myself what would i do without you, My guardian Angels, you're always there, always looking out for me, making sure I know my rights from my wrongs.
Oh Lord, what would I do without them, no one to keep me safe, no one to pick me up when I fall, so it's good to know I have somebody looking out for me,somebody keeping me safe,and somebody picking me up off the ground.
When Angel's sing, when Angel's soar through the clouds, when Angel's pick me up,when Angel's keep me safe.
The world around seems so much better, so much safer, so much brighter.
The moon and the sun and the stars shine high above the clouds, lighting the way to the gates of heaven above.
Lord I think I'm ready to walk through the gates, to soar through the sky, to open up my heart to all the little ones in need, It's my time it's my place, and I'm ready to learn to pick up the ones who are down, to keep them safe and hold them tight and never let them go.
Now it's my time to lift up the spirits of the heavens, I'm a guardian Angel.


My Mom Kathy

My mom's name was Kathy.
She liked to play with Sassy.
She was very kind.
When we broke something she
didn't hardly mind.
She was the best,
But we were pests.
She always wore shorts.
She loved to play sports.
She loved to go on long walks,
around the lake or down
several blocks.
She was the worlds greatest mom,
That's because she's da bomb.
We love our mom very much.
She loved us a lot too.
She was the bomb,
because she was our mom.
That's why I love my mom.

I received an email from P yesterday afternoon. She would like to share a bit of her perspective. Thank you, P!

A Night Never Forgotten

What I remember from the night my mom was taken away from my siblings and I is about the same as my older brother’s story except what I’m about to tell you.
I remember that we had CCD that night and our dad picked us up and brought us home. As my older brother said our dad told us to give our mom a hug and kiss and tell her goodnight, so we did and went to bed. What makes my story different is that I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and I noticed that my dad was in the living room talking to my mom who was in her room and my brother’s shotgun was lying on the couch. I didn’t think much of it, I assumed that my dad was going hunting because he was wearing his Kansas coat and seemed ready to go out. I did what I had to do and I was heading back to bed which is in the room right next to my parents room, when my dad yelled at me and told me to get my butt back to bed. My mom told him not to yell at me and told me goodnight. I hugged her again and went back to bed. While I was sleeping I had a dream with shooting in it. There were three gunshots in my dream and then I heard crying which was not part of my dream and I woke up to find my siblings screaming and crying. Then I saw what they were all staring at, my mom was on the floor and there was blood everywhere. I didn’t understand why this had happened or how I could have slept through it all. My oldest brother had called 911 and when they got there we went to the police car and I prayed that she would be ok and we would be a happy family again. Like T said we went to the police station where we waited for someone to come pick us up. M got a stuffed gorilla from a lady at the station so we wouldn’t be as scared. We were picked up by my uncle and my grandpa and went to my grandparents that night. While my grandpa tucked my sister and I in I asked “Is mommy going to be ok, are we going to see her again?” I saw a tear come down my grandpa’s face and he said “she is in a better place now P, where she is much happier and out of harms way, but she will always be looking down to watch you kids grow up.” The he went downstairs to bed. The next day we found out that our dad had killed himself and I remember how relieved my siblings and I had been but at the same time mad because we wanted to be the ones to do it. We are only stronger, better people because of what happened. T has helped us through it all and still to this day he is the one I go to if I need anything or am having problems. I know my mom is always watching over us and she is proud of us and of how T helped us get through this. We are all very proud of T.



























For every comment made this week (kindly leave at least your first name and location please), my family will make an additional monetary donation to our local women’s and children’s shelter in Kathy’s memory from her children. Please offer your prayers, thanks, support, and appreciation for T, J, P, and M. They really did put it all out there for this. Although they may not know it, sharing their perspectives is admirable and courageous, and it just might save a life.




This is the fourth post in a six-part series about domestic violence. Click to view other posts in this series.
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The Story About the Tragedy in My Life

J was 12 years old when her mother and father died. Today, now 19, she would like to share her story.

The Story About the Tragedy in My Life
by J

Everyone has a story. They are all different in their own way. Some start off the same while others connect. As for my story it starts off just a normal Wednesday after us four kids got home from CCD. We all got ready for bed since we had school the next day. We said goodnight to our dad and kissed our mom goodnight. My little sister slowly walked to the room next to our parent’s room. My brothers and I headed upstairs very slowly. We walked over to our beds. I got under my covers. My brothers lay in my older brother’s bed. We couldn’t sleep so we just talked. I don’t even remember what it was about. All I remember is we talked in a quiet tone so our parents didn’t know we were still awake. Out of nowhere I heard a loud sound. I didn’t know what it was. I thought maybe it was a hammer I know stupid right? Why would my parents be using a hammer when we were trying to sleep? We heard our mother scream. This startled us we all three got out of our beds and headed for the stairs. We heard the loud noise again and more screaming. At the bottom of the stairs we heard it one last time. We were slow. We saw our dad run out of the house. Of course that was strange. My older brother told my younger brother and I too stay there. I was curious and wanted to know what was going on so I lied and said I had to pee. We slowly looked around the corner. We saw our mom lying on the floor in her room. Blood was everywhere. My older brother ran to the phone and quickly called 911. We looked out the window and saw our dad drive away in a hurry. We saw my older brother’s gun in the living room laying on the edge of the couch. We split up. My older brother was in the kitchen; my younger brother went to my mom’s side. I ran to the room next to my mom’s. I shook my sister awake. I was in panic. I was yelling for my sister to wake up. When she did with panic in my voice and tears running down my face I told her what had happened. She got up quickly. We ran to our mom. She was still breathing. She didn’t look like she could see us. We screamed and kept crying. After a short time the police showed up at our house. They talked to us in a calming matter since we were pretty young. My little sister, my little brother and I followed one of the cops to his car. It was a cold night and it didn’t help we weren’t wearing any shoes. I looked over and saw one of our neighbors outside talking to the cops. Our older brother came back with our shoes. All I kept thinking was is he going to be ok. The police officer said we were going down to the station. I cried I didn’t want to leave our many animals behind. I knew they would be so scared. My older brother got in and we went to the police station. When we got there we made our way upstairs. I was shaking and we could all here the people yelling in the cells downstairs. I was so scared, it was cold and I didn’t like being at the police station. At that point many things were going through my head. My older brother talked to the policeman and told them where our nearest family lived. They called our grandparents. Our principal was there since her husband was a cop and she wanted to help us. We couldn’t stop crying and she tried to comfort us. My older brother did most of the talking since of three didn’t want to say anything since we were all shaken up. The policeman told us our mom was at the hospital. I just wanted to be with her and I kept hoping she would be ok. My Uncle and my Grandpa finally came for us. They talked to the policemen and we headed out to the truck. We all got in and they gave us blankets to keep us warm. On the way to their home, it was pretty quiet except for the tears that were slowly coming down and soaking our faces. We got to our grandparents house. Our grandparents were tucking us in. We prayed with them. All I kept thinking is when is my mom going to get better. Then the worst news ever came from my grandpa he was crying a lot. He calmly said “she’s in a better place now”. I couldn’t believe my ears, the tears came down quickly now and I was sobbing really loud that it was hard to breath. My mother died December 17th, 2003 in the hospital that night. I really hated my father. I was so scared he would come for us next and hurt everyone that we loved. No one knew where he went so the town had cops everywhere in front of all the entrances and by our other families homes, he knew where they all lived since it was a small town and he has been their many times before. They didn’t find him nor did they see him. I lay in my bed next to my sister praying this was all just a really bad nightmare and in the morning everything would be ok. The next day everyone was still so sad and that’s when I knew that it wasn’t a really bad nightmare it was real and there was nothing I did that could or would change that no matter what.
You probably don’t care about my life story but the reason I wanted to share this is to show you shouldn’t take life for granted. I know this is said a lot but it’s true. Everyone needs to be careful sometimes people just snap. My dad snapped and he took my mother from me whom I cared deeply for. She was my hero and my everything. I want people to know this event changed my life. It was hard. I had people here to help me and care for me. It was great to have but nothing or no one can ever replace my parents nor would I want them to. I know what my dad did was wrong but he was my father and I can’t change that. I will admit at times he wasn’t half bad. I don’t care what others think, I knew him more than them and I know for a fact he would have never ever hurt any of us kids. He loved us so much and just because he hurt my mom does not mean he would have ever hurt us. He didn’t have it in him to hit or kill us kids. If you’re parents are having trouble with their marriage try to get others in your family to get them to seek professional help. I really don’t want this terrible thing to happen to anyone else. I don’t want others to have to go through the pain that my family and I had to go through. Even though you say you hate your parents I know deep down you still love them. I get so tired of people whining and saying they wish they didn’t have parents because they are mean and have too many rules but they are doing that to protect you since they love you. I wish I still had parents because it’s hard to go through life when people make fun of you just because you don’t have parents and they do. It is really rude and really mean.
My name is J and this is my story. For the sake of my family I have refrained from telling you the names of my family members. A lot of you have probably heard of this story and let me tell you it was a very scary chapter in my life and I hope I never have to go through it ever again. Please take time and think about how your parents relationship is and you never know you may be a hero someday. Don’t let your family be torn apart like mine was. Learn from my mistakes. I was not a hero and as you know I lost my mother. If I could have just one more chance to have my mother back I would make the best of it and always tell her how much I loved her because the worst thing in my opinion is when someone leaves you and you don’t get to tell them how much you really loved them.




“My Hero and My Mother K”
By J

She was the
Best mom
Better then
The rest
She cared
For so many
And shared so
Much with
Everyone
She was so
Pretty just
Like her
Favorite
Flower
Which was
A rose
My mother
Was as sweet
As sugar
If not sweeter
She put others
Before herself
Without her
I would have been
Lost
Her smile was
One of a kind
Just like
Her
We all miss
Her so
And wish
She didn’t
Have to go
So soon
She’ll always
Be close
To us
We just
Have to look
Deep within us
I wish
She were here
Just awhile longer
Showing us
How to be strong
And stick together







Support the cause by leaving a comment!

For every comment made this week (kindly leave at least your first name and location please), my family will make an additional monetary donation to our local women’s and children’s shelter in Kathy’s memory from her children. Please offer your prayers, thanks, support, and appreciation for T, J, P, and M. They really did put it all out there for this. Although they may not know it, sharing their perspectives is admirable and courageous, and it just might save a life.

This is the third post in a six-part series about domestic violence. Click to view other posts in this series.
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