During this entire process I was told that the stronger and deeper the love the more intense and painful the loss is. I believe that to be true, when someone you barely know does, a passing acquaintance or even a huge Hollywood Star that everyone knows. You may feel a slight sadness or be barely effected. But when a family member dies, and even worse when it is sudden. That pain is intense and deep and endless things seem to trigger it.

Seeing Connor’s pictures and his friends I can tolerate, hugs from all of them, that’s ok too. What will send me right off the edge is a video. A video of him being silly and having fun, joking around and just being him. That sets off the torrential waterworks and there seems to be no way to dry them up.

I have the overwhelming urge to reach into the phone and somehow pull him out. To feel him, touch him, listen to his voice in person one more time again, even smell him as odd as that seems. Just get the essence of him out of that phone, and back to real life.

If any of you remember the little boy from the Original Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. That wanted to be on TV so bad? Mike Teavee was the character name, he was dressed completely in white with a funny western accent. He was projected across the room, but his little pieces didn’t line up right!!

I want Connor to come out of that little box with all his little pieces lined up correctly. Laughing and joking and smiling. Just being my same Connor. I know intellectually it can’t happen, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting the impossible!

I want a lot of impossible things now, for this never ending bad dream I’m in to just stop. To wake up and have none of it be true. To have Groudhog Day stop replaying over and over. To have a holiday full of sparkle and joy, to not snivel and tear up when anyone hugs me or tells me how excited they are that all their kids are home for Christmas.

I know (or I am told) it will start to get easier someday. I just have to get to that day. The first step is getting through this holiday season. That being said, please don’t treat me with kid gloves, or not tell me things that you think will make me sad, as much as I want to live in a bubble I can’t, nor will it help me heal. I can want for things to be different to the moon and back, but it won’t change the reality of the situation.

So check on me, hug me, send me well wishes. Just be prepared for the waterworks, and know they are ok, because I do.

There is a reason that there is no word for a parent that loses a child. It is not a natural phenomenon, you are not supposed to outlive your child. Much less a vibrant 17 year old son who has the world laid out in front of him on a silver platter. A young man who thought the world was his for the taking. Baseball, football, girls, one special girl in particular, Jordan. The love of his life, the young lady for whom his world spun and spun only. They were each other’s other half. They were happy doing the mundane things together. The mall, Ulta, Tractor Supply, doing their homework together, even just walks together or drives to just nowhere. They were just happy together.❤️

I never knew my 17 year was such a romantic, dropping little notes for Jordan to find. Buying her little gifts to make her happy.

I knew he was a crazy rough and tumble guy. I knew he was Chippewa Boots full of dirt, a baseball bag full of sweaty clothes, and grass stained baseball pants. A glove that literally smelled like an old horse, it was damp and sticky and sweaty, but it was molded to his hand perfectly.

<
e was size 12 baseball cleats, full of dirt and grass, with insides that smelled like , well a teenage boy. No amount of professional deodorizer could fix them nor could baking soda and a myriad of essential oils. It was the funk of teenage boy feet. He was size Chippewa work boots that were never fully tied, so he always had this kind of clunky walking gait to him, with the laces tucked into the tops of the boots and his jeans tucked into his boots.

The same jeans that were so difficult to buy. Size 32×34, or if truth be told really 30×34. All legs, no waist and even less ass. Tall and skinny, he was long and lean all 6ft tall of him. Blue eyes with the longest eyelashes that u have ever seen, on a man or a woman.

Those beautiful blue eyes that either sparkled when he laughed and smiled, or got all dark and stormy when he was mad. Mad, usually at his Mom, for something he didn't want to do. Like his homework or clean his room, those dark and stormy eyes were reserved for me. Or for his coaches, when he was mad and frustrated, an alternative version of "The Game Face."

The rest of the world got to see the sparkly blue eyes, the flirty, happy, beautiful blue eyes, framed in those long dark lashes that enraptured everyone. I would give anything to see those eyes and eyelashes again in real life. Whether they were smiling or mad at me, I don't care.

<
ow I am a member of the Crappiest Club that no one wants entry to. The Club reserved for Mother's who have had to bury a child before themselves. Maybe if he was doing something to cause this I would take some comfort, as minimal as it is knowing he was at fault. But there is no blame to be shared. He wasn't speeding, it was raining hard and the slopes guardrails acted like a ramp. All of that conspired to act like a slingshot to send him airborne.

<
he fact that my heart is torn to shreds, a huge part is missing and I am not sure it will ever be replaced. I want him back, instead of the 200+ sympathy cards that line my mantle. I still want the car, with its loud music to pull in the driveway and the size 12 Chippewa boots to come clomping across my floor leaving mud and dirt in their wake. For now I will have to settle for the empty boots in the breezeway, and the memories I have left. For the car is gone forever, just like my blue eyed long lashed baby, leaving a hole in my shattered heart.

This started out as the basic thank you for the local newspaper and took on a life of its own. I am still struggling with the thank you to place in the newspaper but this blog took shape instead.

The family of Connor Powers would like to thank everyone for their continued support after his accident and subsequent passing. (That part I have down without a problem, it is after that things go haywire)

The medical team at Baystate Health, in the PICU, the Trauma Team, The Neuro Team and the Pediatric Team (headed by Dr. Christine McTiernan). The PICU nurses who became extended family for 12 days, coaching us to eat and sleep as well. My special nurse angel Hillary Duda. Without her Starbucks would not have appeared with her morning shift. Her hugs were amazing, they didn’t medically fix anything but they made me feel like my world wasn’t shattered.

Connor’s girlfriend and his everything Jordan Hurlbert. She slept in a chair for 4 days next to his his hospital bed. Holding his hand and talking to him. She was wrapped in a blanket because it was under 50* in that hospital room, because Connor needed to stay cold. Jordan you are the strongest young lady I know!!! Bar none❤️❤️

Jordan’s family: Brad, Shelly & Jared lost Connor too. He was just as much a part of their family as Jordan is a part of ours. We will heal with time, that’s what everyone tells me, right now we are all clinging to each other like life raft survivors.

Mark’s boss John Lamoureux, who was there from the beginning, he was at the hospital before we were. Telling the staff he was Connor’s uncle to get the ball rolling. Staying with us for 12 days, taking us to dinner. Getting us a hotel room in Springfield. Making us go and nap in the “Parent Sleep Room”. His wife Danielle who brought me real Kleenex because Baystate ones made my eyelashes fall out!! They seriously need to invest in better paper products there😝

My boss Steve Keyes who sent my amazing coworker Rachel with a gift basket that was so big I don’t know how she carried it. It had slippers to keep my feet warm and a blanket that I dragged around the hospital like Linus.

Steve himself who came and sat in the waiting room with me and held me while I cried. Connor was my son, but he was also one of Steve’s employees too.

Revered Douglas Belanger who made me see that 12 days of prayer may not have medically fixed the problem. But it made my heart feel better.

Reverend Bob Szafran who performed the hardest service anyone has ever had to. Saying goodbye to a 17 year old whirlwind of a young man. He did it with grace, love and as much humor as allowed. There was no one better to do Connor’s service.

To all the young men who where Connor’s pallbearers:

Steve Keyes & Curtis Warren

Cam Chase & Jared Taylor

Brady & Zack McCloud

Adam Hallenbeck

You all went above and beyond to carry Connor to his final resting place. I know that was the hardest thing that many of you have done and I thank you from the bottom of my shattered heart.

To Bonnie Sullivan & Nichole Gancarz who became #3connorstrong💙. They created basket raffles, brought dinner and even facilitated the students at FCTS to work with Manny’s Appliances to donate a washing machine to us.

To Krystal Finn and her mom Missy who came to the hospital one of the last nights. Connor n Krystal where boyfriend and girlfriend in preschool till 7th grade. Krystal earned the right to say goodbye to him, and Missy held me up and let me cry. I love both of you to the moon and back. My life with Connor in elementary school is intertwined with yours and you will always be part of my heart and my family.

To the students at FCTS, we may have lost a son but you lost a classmate and and a friend. That hurt will be with you for a while. I love hearing all of your stories about him, and all of your adventures together.

To Nancy Purington and her family who has been there for me from the beginning. Who came to the hospital and dragged the boys. Just so she could hug me. I don’t have enough words to thank you. She also brought dinner knowing that cooking was not on the list of what I would do.

To Joni Sessions who held my hand after the funeral and gave me permission to fall apart finally. And I did, like a house of cards.

To the students at MTRHS, he was one of you too, and your grief touches me in ways that both hurts and heals. Connor Strong stickers everywhere, a Dodgeball Tournament organized by Brady McCloud in Connor’s memory.

The love that this community feels for us is outstanding, amazing and overwhelming. I may have lost a son, but you all lost a community member, a student, an employee, a friend, a boyfriend and on and on. The way that you have surrounded us to show us your love. I wish I had words other than Thank You. Thank you to each and every one of you. I love you.

The white sheets and burning crosses of the KKK were something that I thought we had left behind as a nation. Maybe my naïveté is showing, or just the fact that I live in the rural northeast where the rednecks rear their heads but not with the KKK attached (generally)

The current president has removed all sense of "political correctness" from our current society. In recent years we had gone a bit to far the other way, you couldn't say anything for fear of offending someone. Now it has become a free for all. Say or do what you want and damned the consequences.

What happened to being considerate of other people, their feelings, their thoughts, their race, their religion, or even their sexual orientation? Just because you can say it doesn't mean you should!

The situation in Charlottesville is a perfect example. Young White Supremacists exerting their notion of free speech. Marching with tiki torches in hand to assert their "supremacy ". Their hate bubbling to the surface, believing that the color of their skin makes them superior to others. That idea is complete idiocy. Are they smarter than anyone? What do they have to bring to the table other than their hate for people that don't look exactly like them?

As someone who has had it with all of the hate that has been bubbling under the surface, and like lava has found cracks and fissures to make its way to the top again. I say I am done, I don't have any control at the national level, but I can work at the local level. I won't tolerate the hate out of anyone I deal with, that doesn't mean I am going to bury my head in the sand. It means the exact opposite. It means I am going to fight to make it known that racism, and its brothers of sexism and ageism don't fly with me in any way shape or form. So take your Tiki Torches back to a Jimmy Buffett concert where they belong!!!
#finsup
#parrotheadsunite
🍹🐬🦋

The phrase that “No man is an island” sprung to mind recently. I think that social media has made us a very judgmental society. Used to be that we had a core group of friends, mostly people that lived in our neighborhood, or at least in the same telephone area code. 

Now our circle has widened, to across the country and even around the world. With that widening comes the thinking that everyone must share the same thoughts, ideals and values.

That just isn’t true, and it is that thinking that makes many of us thing that we are an island. But not an enjoyable one, that consists of sun, sand, palm trees, cabana boys and drinks with little umbrellas.

The island that we end up on one is an island full of all of our emotions, whirling around us, like rain and snow. With a rocky shore and pounding surf, in effect keeping all others away. 

Social media can be a wonderful thing, but it can also turn on you in an instant. It can be an angel on one side of the coin and the other side holds a barbed devil. The only way to keep this devil at bay is to embrace the sand and palm trees, dance with the cabana boys and enjoy those fruity umbrella drinks. If you allow the driving rain and snow to take hold that rocky shore will take over, and that isolation will envelop you and the devil comes barbs and all.

One minute they are toddling behind you getting into everything. With the next blink they are getting on the school bus to go to kindergarten. If you are anything like me, and they are your baby there tears involved that day (lots of them).

It seemed like there were years of baseball practices, and games, and Tournament Ball with travel all over the state (at god awful times of the day, in any kind of weather). 

Then some friends convinced you that football would be cool to play. That was 4 years of nail biting and terror for mom. You only got bumped and bruised, but I was glad when u stopped playing.

Then came transfer to Tech, with the Chip boots and all the other accessories. You were headed towards adulthood at a breakneck pace and there was nothing I could do to slow the hands of time.

The Driving Permit was next, with the required amount of road time and classroom time, followed by a Drivers License. Who gave you permission to grow up so fast, not me that is for sure!! Even before you had your license you bought a car, a sporty little Black Mazda 3. Snazzy little car, that you take everywhere , and now that your 6 months is up, you can take others with you.

This past Friday night I realized how grown up you were. You put on a tux, dress shoes and got Jordan’s corsage ready. You looked like a million bucks. As we headed out the door, it hit me, you were really going to prom, and you were pretty grown up. The 2 of you looked stunning, and I made it through a thousand pictures with no tears.

I was diagnosed with a “Frozen Shoulder” about 6 weeks ago. Knows in medical lingo as Adhesive Capulitis. Truth is that I was diagnosed 6 weeks ago, but I have been suffering with this debilitating pain since November of 2016. I just assumed (wrongly) that I had pulled a muscle or just tweaked something and it wud resolve itself.

I tried RICE. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. Although it is a little difficult to elevate your shoulder. But I successfully did everything else. With really no success, but I kept trying, refusing to give into the pain. 

Finally I went to the doctor at the beginning of January and was diagnosed with Bursitis of the shoulder joint, prescribed Naproxen and told to rest the joint as much as possible. It did nothing, but make my stomach unhappy. 

After the Naproxen was gone, I used OTC NSAID’S and still no change. Finally 6 weeks I made another appointment. This time for a cortisone shot. This time my PCP diagnosed it as Frozen Shoulder, gave me the Cortisone Shot and sent me on my way.

The shot helped for abt 2 weeks. And now the pain is back with a vengeance. I have done my research, and the general consensus is that you just have to let this awful thing run its course. Ice works great, sometimes Cortisone shots do, Manipulation under Anesthesia, Hydrdialation. Have all been thrown about as options, but mostly it is just wait.

Waiting is something I am not good at, I want to snap my fingers and wake up with it gone, but the chances of that seem pretty slim.

If this new administration had a tag line it would be “Alternative Facts, use them, embrace them.” I for one will not use them or embrace them. I will call them what they are a LIE! As a person who compulsively seeks the truth, these type of  “facts” offend me.

The most recent “Alternative Fact” laid down by Kellyanne Conway was about the Bowling Green Massacre. The Massacre she claimed was never covered by the Press. It never existed, hence why it was never covered by any media outlet. As a compulsive truth seeker, I went into research mode, Google and Snopes are my friends. 2 men were arrested in Bowling Green Kentucky for possessing illegal weapons and being involved in IED incidents in their home country. Hmm, no massacre there. 

Once Ms. Conway was confronted with the truth she began to backtrack quicker than an Olympic Figure Skater. Saying that she misspoke and that it “could have been a massacre” but it was stopped when the Iraqi nationals were arrested before they could do anything.

Next came the 7 countries that are on the travel ban. I find it quite interesting that none of those 7 countries have any Trump Hotels or Trump Casinos in them. Yet if you are Saudi Arabia that has Trump ties you are all set. This entire administration talks in circles, circles that make my head spin. They make their own discriminatory practices as they pertain to international affairs based on how it will effect Trump Industries. 

Need I remind anyone that is why he was supposed to divest himself of his business holdings, so there was no “conflict of interest.” I predict he will never do this, nor will we ever see the release of his Tax Returns. 

I also predict that Melania and Baron will never leave the comforts of Trump Tower to reside at The White House. She will use these 4 years as an un-official separation and after the 4 year Presidential term, she will become the 3rd ex Mrs. Trump. 

If he even lasts 4 years as our 45th President, which I don’t anticipate will happen. I am in the camp that believes he will be impeached long before his term is up. Leaving us with Pence as President and Ryan as Vice President. Those are scary propositions to me.

I see Trump as a puppet, a puppet with no political knowledge that operates like a ping-pong ball with a serious case of ADHD. Bouncing from one issue to another. Neither solving anything or making any true changes. On the other hand with Pence and Ryan at the helm that is an equation that scares me. They have the political know how, but not the common sense. With any of these fools at the helm of our country I am scared. 

This morning it is -4, better known as bone chilling ass freezing cold. In my book anything under 20*F is just COLD, once it gets that cold I stop paying attention. I have seriously begun to consider that New England is not the place for me to live. But that is not what this entry is about, it is about the fact that a -4 temperature on the thermometer results in either a 2 hour delay or a school closing. Really??? I will admit I am 48 years old, so it has been years since I was in elementary or high school. But I do have a child on there now and friends with kids there too.

 

When I was in school, ages ago, before TV and modern conveniences as my kids will say. When winter came things were different, you bundled up to WALK to the bus stop. Hank Quinlon drove that yellow Dufour School bus to the stop and you got on. You found a seat and sat down for the duration of the trip.  School was delayed if there was over 10″ of snow or a crap ton of ice. 3″ of snow didn’t even warrant a thought, and early dismissals for snow were downright unheard of. They had us there and we were there until the day was over. We are New Englanders, hold my coffee, while I navigate this snow drift, was the common thought, and still is for many of us.

We knew what hats, gloves, mittens and scarves were. Heavy jackets and snow pants till we looked like the bundled up Michelin Man.  Boots and ugh those liners made of Wonder Bread bags to keep your feet warm and dry. We may not have liked it, but we endured it, and I think it made us hearty souls.  Something that I am not sure that this generation is learning with late openings for cold and 3″ of snow. I just wish they were a little more like us.

 

 

As many of you may know I am a ResearchDiva or a Google Queen. If I don’t know the answer I will research or hunt until I find out what it is. Going hand in hand with that is the fact that I tend to be verbose, unable to define the word “IT” in under 400 words or less. Both of these ideas became apparent last night when my 19 year old asked me if it was illegal to burn an American Flag?, and could President Elect Trump jail an offender or deport an American Born citizen for doing so?

Enter Google… From the online Law Dictionary

1. “Currently, flag burning is not illegal in the United States.  The Supreme Court of the United States in its decision from 1969 has ruled that the burning of the flag is protected by the First Amendment. However, the person who burnt the flag can be found guilty of a misdemeanor for starting a fire without a permit.” 
2. “Natural-born U.S. citizens may not have their citizenship revoked against their will, but may choose to renounce their citizenship on their own.”

The above being said, I don’t believe that Flag Burners are right or correct in their actions, but they are protected. In the current climate there would be an awful lot of prisons full of people accused of starting a fire without a permit. I think we have better things to do with our time and criminal justice resources. As for the second point, he isn’t going to be able to revoke anyone’s citizenship for it either.

He is full of hot air and bluster, carrying on with his Twitter account to his followers because it seems like a good idea at the time. I wish he would really think before he opens his mouth or lets his fingers do the walking. This country was founded on the ability to protest, I am sorry that he doesn’t like it. But we do not work for him, we are not members of the Trump Payroll. Therefore we have the right to speak against him. As generations before us have spoken out against presidents that they did not agree with.

That is what makes this country great, the ability to speak our mind and have differing points of view. If you plan to take away that right you have another thing coming. Never Mind the 2nd Amendment and the Right to Bear Arms. How about the 1st Amendment and the Right to Free Speech? That means way more to me than any gun or rifle. The right to speak my mind, have freedom of the press, and the right for different religions to practice freely in this country, all of them, not just the ones that you and I agree with.