The helping Chain

About three years ago, on my back porch, three women talked me into writing a blog.  That was after they talked me into getting a dog.  I should have stopped after the dog was sprayed with BRUTE but I listened to them.

The purpose of the blog was to help other people who might have children with substance abuse problems. 

During all this time, I met some very special people that also had some life experiences that taught me some incredible lessons.

This past weekend, I got a message from a lady that I admire.  I admire her for her love and her committment to her son.  Her son passed away in June.  She said she wanted to write a blog so she could feel better.  I offered to help her.

I gave her one peice of advice.  "Write a few before you post them."  I honestly do not know why I offered up that peice of advice.

During that very same day, a woman that I met through this blog sent me a private message, " what is up with the button and why don't you write about him anymore?  Are you ok?"  And then, she asked me how to find out if someone is in jail and how to find out what a person could be charged with.  Carcked me up.

Later, that evening, after I went on a baking binge that Duncan Hines would have been impressed with, I came upstairs to read about my high school.  Franklin Regional High School.  The "stabbing school."  But I wasn't reading for doom and gloom.  I was reading about the amazing things the community and other schools were doing for the victims.   I was reading about banners being signed, T-shirts and yard signs and decals, Prayer vigils, decorations and just amazing things.  Hundreds of thousands of dollars were being raised for those victims.  I love reading about the strength and the committment and the perserverance of a community on a mission to grow and succeed and be the best the community has ever been after this incident.

I looked out my window at the rain.  Sixty five people were invited to my house the next day, Easter Sunday for an Easter party.  I really only thought Noah would show.  What was I going to do?  I didn't have an ark and I didn't have room for 65 and I didn't have Plan B and Franklin was hot. 

I wrote a post...Easter....and then I read.  I read my own blog.  From the beginning.

My dear friend told me a few weeks ago that she had quit reading 16 months ago because she couldn't take the heartache.  But, she started reading and decided to fill her heart with hope, get out of bed and get a job.  If I could do it, she could too.  She did.

Anyway, I read.  I wish someone would have told me to write and then wait.  I was a mess.

I stayed a mess.  I was messy.  Life was messy.  The "button" was a mess.

But somewhere along the way, in some loving way, help and hope made it to our address. 

This blog didn't turn out to be about helping others.  It helped me.  After I got the BRUTE washed out of my dog.

And the lady I admire, it will help her.  She will help others, she will build them up, I am sure.

Easter came.  So did the monsoon.  Noah did not show up for Easter.  He was busy gathering animals. 

My friend, a mother of four young kids, who just returned from vacation said, "You cannot cancel the party, I don't have any food.  We can have it at my house."
Seriously, who comes home from vacation with four little kids and says, "hey, just got home but hey have a party at my house?"  An angel, that is who says this...and her angel husband who thinks it is ok. 

And while we worked together to make the party happen, I mentioned "my boys".  My life long friend's son had come for the day.  She assumed it was the "button".  I  shook my head and said, "Nope.  Not  the button."

The "button" called me at 12:46 am on my birthday.  He wanted to be the first to wish me a Happy Birthday.  He was.  And he called.  In six months, I have had three conversations with my son.  I have no idea what his address is, where he lives or what his life is about, but he called.

 Ground Hog day.  Every day I weigh myself praying for a 20 pound weight loss, check my bank account and pray for a 20,000 dollar mystery deposit and check to see if he is in jail (I know the website) or dead.  And after those four things, the day can only get better. 

It has.

So many people have a "new" normal in their lives.  Lives after they bury children.  Lives after Cancer.  Lives after divorce.  Lives after new jobs. 

My whole life has been plan B.  Plan B means "the best plan."

The blog was to help others, the blog helped me, another lady wants a blog, she will help others, the school suffers, thousands help the school and the victims.  Rain shows up, a friend helps me...the common denominator is help.

I saw a skeptic on the news the other day and he was saying that as "humans we are callused and don't care."  I think he has lousy friends. 

He needs a porch, a group of girl friends, a bottle of wine, a dog that smells like BRUTE and a new life.

Thanks for the help blog.