it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: Christmas Party at the Corrections Facility

it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: Christmas Party at the Corrections Facility: The good news is that when you attend a Christmas Party at the Corrections Facility, you don't need to spend time worrying about what you we...

Christmas Party at the Corrections Facility

The good news is that when you attend a Christmas Party at the Corrections Facility, you don't need to spend time worrying about what you wear.  And, for the record, red and green and is waaaaay over done.  Orange and stainless gray just reek of the holidays.

ughh.

The "button" asked Franklin and me for a Christmas Present.  In unison, without skipping a beat, we both replied, "Saw or File."

We thought that was funny.  You know, summer camp humor.

No, he wanted to see his siblings before Christmas. 

So, off we go.  This is definitely a story line for the Grisswalds.

Again, it was awesome.  Addie told us on the way there, her teacher asked the class what they knew about Beaufort and she said, "that is where the county jail is."  Oh  my.

Anyway, the party was great.  The "button" on one side, us on the other.

When we got there, a friend had shown up to visit the "button".  I was so happy for the "button".  Someone reached out to him and I know this gesture meant the world to him.  More important, this young man has been to summer camp too and has been forced to grow up just like the "button".

Addie shared with the "button" that she put on her Santa list that "please bring something for the "button".
He said the only thing he wanted was to get home.  I bet.

In a phone conversation, I got my Christmas list wish.  My child has been running away for two years.  For two years all I have heard is how much he "hates us and cannot wait to leave here".  The "button" explained that what he misses most is his parents, his siblings and his home.  He asked for pictures of the tree, the garland going up the steps, the nutcrackers, everything Christmas.  He said he has layed awake thinking of our house at Christmas and his room.  And then he said, "what I want most is to repair my relationship with my family.  I feel like things are really good now and I want to keep them this way.  We get to have great talks and I want to keep it that way."

Merry Christmas.  It didn't even need to be wrapped.  It came wrapped in love.

So here we are, one kid at summer camp, two little kids at home.  Court has been moved to the end of January.  The "button" continues to grow up and think.  Cannot put a price tag on this. 

Yes, we could bail the "button" out and bring him home for Christmas.  We could.  We won't.  Not bailing him out is our Christmas present to him.  It doesn't need to be wrapped either.

I constantly think of the parents of deployed servicemen and women and parents of sick children.  It is only a day, but is one of "those days".  We will remember this Christmas forever and hopefully, chuckle about it when the "button" is a Senator or something.  Wouldn't that be something? 

Merry Christmas to you all.  I hope you get that special gift that comes wrapped in love that touches your heart a million times.

it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: The Joy in Joyce

it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: The Joy in Joyce: This particular Christmas season, I have been JOYFUL. Filled with JOY. Happy. Organized. Excited. JOYFUL. Never saw the joy coming....

The Joy in Joyce

This particular Christmas season, I have been JOYFUL.  Filled with JOY.  Happy.  Organized.  Excited.  JOYFUL. 

Never  saw the joy coming.  Ever. 

I have been at Peace for a couple of weeks now.  Peace in my heart and Peace of mind.  I am now at Peace with everything that has happened this year.  This is a huge statement for a control freak like me.  I am at peace with what I can control and what I have NO control of and I have let it all go.  I put it in my hands, held my hands up to the skies and blew it away.  "Your turn, God".  I am at Peace.

I think because I let it all go, I have felt angels everywhere.  Maybe it is the holiday season but the angels have been everywhere.  I have felt them and have seen them. I know that angels are taking care of my kids.  I have heard  the angels too.

One of my favorite angels is Karen Carpenter.

I am a holiday sap for the "Merry Christmas Darling" by Karen and her brother, Richard Carpenter.

I have shared my affections for the Carpenters with many people, including a dear friend, Joyce. Joyce,  her husband and I LOVE the Carpenter Christmas album.  It is our fave.  We are proud to tell it too.  We HEART the Carpenters.

Joyce has cancer.  The "c" word.  She is my dear friend and she does Christmas like nobody else.  Her trees are perfect.  Her cards too.  Her presents are picked with genuine thoughtfulness and wrapped the care.  Joyce has been an angel to me for so many years.  She is truly one of the most wonderful people I will know. 

Yesterday, I turned on the radio and there was my sweet musical angel, Karen.  I had a some time alone in the car so I reached out to Joyce. 

Hmm...Joyce cannot go out of the house, cannot shop, eat (and this skinny chick can EAT some chocolate and junk food), she cannot attend parties and she cannot participate in Christmas this year. 

Her voice was sweet, strong and clear. 

Earlier in the day, the "button" called.  We had a fabulous conversation.  As sad as he is that he is in "summer camp" he said that he is GLAD all of this has happened.  He told us that he is growing up, he has learned to appreciate reading and he has learned to appreciate his family and his home.  He is glad he is well and strong and he will continue to be well and strong.  "Mom, I am not sick, I am getting well, reading like a mad man and missing good things.  This "whole" thing, mom, is a good thing.  It is making us a better family and me a better man.  I know the real meaning of Christmas now.  It is what you have in your heart that matters, not electronics."

As I spoke to Joyce, in her sweet, strong, clear voice, she told me that she is "glad that cancer happened to her".  She has been blessed beyond her dreams, she has met wonderful people and has heard wonderful tales for goodness and strength. " She is glad that cancer has happened.  Think about that statement for a minute, one whole minute.  If you think about it for sixty seconds, you should get the chills.

Both Joyce and the "button" are confined.  They cannot participate in shopping, they cannot leave their domains, they cannot eat the calorically dense Christmas foods and they cannot participate in the Christmas merriment.  They know it is upon us but they cannot participate.  They can only imagine it. 

But, they both have Christmas in their hearts.  Both Joyce and the "button" have JOY.  The JOY comes from attitude.  Attitude is everything.

The JOY in my heart this year comes from people like JOYce.  The look at Santa's sack and say "half full" instead of "half empty".  People like Joyce say, "hey you c-word, Give me what you got cause I can take it, bring it on."

They might be confined, but they are spirited, zesty folk, Joyce and the "button". 

Her strength is now my strength.  

My holiday season is now more JOYful than ever.  If she can do it, I can do it.  We can all do it.

I keep thinking of her strong, sweet, clear voice yesterday.   JOYce is my Karen Carpenter this year. Hey JOYce, Merry Christmas.

it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: The circle of life

it wasn't supposed to be this way, but...: The circle of life: When the "button" was little, he LOVED the Lion King. You know the drill, over and over and over again that vhs played. In the car, he h...

The circle of life

When the "button" was little, he LOVED the Lion King.  You know the drill, over and over and over again that vhs played. 

In the car, he had books on tape that he  read along, "Follow Rafiki, he knows the way."  He was obsessed.

It wasn't later in his young life, that he finally got the story.  The "button" only got the story because he watched The Lion King over and over again  with his younger siblings.  We have always told him that he was our "Simba" because we will certainly die someday and he will more than likely need to help raise his siblings.

Last week, Franklin and I went to visit the "button" at summer camp or fall semester.  It bothered me on the way there how we call one another and decide to go and stop on the way to get some books.  It has become a very casual visit.  No stress, just habit almost, like we are ordering a pizza.  We have even"figured" out the system, show up later, you get more time, don't have to hang out in the lobby with creepy folk and there are not as many people late in the hour so you get more time.  We have mastered summer camp.

My girlgriend who loved and lived in New York City stunned me when she told me she was moving back to her home town in upstate New York, more deer there than people.  Why? She told me that she walked over homeless people and it didn't even bother her anymore.  She was sooooo jaded and had accepted homeless people in her life and it didn't bother her anymore.

I was afraid that maybe Franklin and I needed to set up shop in Woodstock.  Were we jaded?  Had we accepted this situation a little too much?

The first time I went to summer camp, I couldn't get to see the "button".  The block was on "lockdown".  It was a good thing.  My Guardian Angel found me, took me into his office and I had a grand mal meltdown.  The kind of meltdown where you cry soooo hard you cannot breathe so you just start taking those HUGE gasps of air.  Thank goodness he is married and has a daughter.  I am sure that one time  in his life he has witnessed this.  I was not ready to go up there and see the "button."

Now, I have a parking spot, the lady knows me, I have his summer camp id number memorized and I actually have a seat that I prefer.  Pathetic. 

Despite a horrible three weeks in late October and November, I have emerged from the sea of despair like Ariel coming out of the water for a day on land.

I have accepted this situation, reluctantly,  but I have accepted the situation.  I have also embraced the goodness that has come from the situation.  My "Mom's Against Dumb Ass Decisions" has cast a new spell in my heart.  I am on a mission.

But, are we too accepting?

So, Franklin and I go upstairs for out visit.  The other family was wrapping up their visit and the mom is crying and touching the glass and the dad is just as somber as he can be and Franklin and I stand there.  Here comes the "button".  Immediately, Franklin and I are jumping up and down and high fiving at the glass.  Why such jubulation?  The "button" got a Haircut.  Oh, the simple things.  Apparently the old clippers broke.  The 'button" who is a germ-a-phobe would not go near the old clippers. Well, they broke from all the oil from the dredlocks.  The barber came to him first.  Gone was Beatle invading the USA  look-a-like "button", back was the "button".

We had a great visit.  Great visit.  Laughing, joking, just talking.  It was like we were sitting at home around the kitchen table, at Halloween (the orange, get it?).  All was great.

And then the guard came and hit the "button" on the shoulder. two minutes.  Franklin tells him to hang tough and "remember, you are the Simba".  "Get yourself together son, two little people are looking up to you and we are behind you."

The "button" gets up to leave and I dart around the corner.  Honestly, I cannot stand being there.  I realize that Franklin is not with me and I take two steps backward.  There is my husband, standing alone at the glass, all by himself, watching the "button" get escorted down, back, where ever he goes once he goes through that door.  I looked at my husband differently at that moment. 

He was still standing tall,looking at his son shaking his head with a tear coming out of one eye. 

He looked like Mufasa standing on Pride Rock. I cold almost hear Elton John singing, "can you feel the love tonight?".   He is still proud and still loves his son. 
His one little tear as that single sign that we are not jaded.  We are just understanding.  We are just doing anything we can to get our son back to the Pride land.

We walked back to our cars discussing the "button", how he looked, what he said and how he sounded. 
Franklin kissed me goodbye and we got back into our cars. Thirty seconds later, my husband calls me.
"It is going to be okay, he is going to be okay".

Akhuna Matada.