Full Time - Take Two.

Alright, folks.  It's officially.  I am employed full time.

Last Wednesday, I mailed in my application to St. Mary's Home for Boys, a residential treatment facility for 10-17 year old boys who are emotionally disturbed and behaviorally delinquent.  Thursday morning, I received a phone call, asking if I could come in at 2:00 that day for an interview.  I quickly got ready and had a half hour interview with the HR director there.  After that, she sent me to another room to complete a writing sample.  She came in to collect it and asked me if I could wait about 15 minutes to speak with the managers, who would complete the second part of the interview.  An hour later, two men came in and took me to a conference room, where they completed part two of the interview.  Once that was done, I asked the receptionist if I was allowed to leave or I needed to wait.  She said to wait, so I took a seat once again in the waiting room.  About 10 minutes later, the HR director came back in and said that, pending my reference checks, they'd like to offer me the job.  Within 36 hours, I went from considering applying for this position to being a residential counselor.

It was a whirlwind and while I felt extremely blessed, I also felt extremely overwhelmed.  I didn't feel like I had time to think about it, but it was too late.  I had already accepted.  The next day, I went in to do four hours of paperwork and policy reading.  As I started meeting people and reading through everything, I started to feel a little better, but still didn't feel totally confident.  But I think that's normal with a new job.  You're always nervous and apprehensive when you start. 

I'll start working on the cottage on Monday.  I'll be working with the 15-17 year old boys.  There's about 19 on the unit, and I'll have a case load of about four "specials" or "primary's," which are four boys that I spend a majority of my time with and am involved in their treatment.  I'm excited to see what doors this job opens for me.  It's fairly closely aligned with what I want to do and will absolutely help me to gain experience in working with this population.  Here's to hoping that all goes well!

Full Time.

Over two years ago, I began working in the Kid's Club at 24 Hour Fitness.  When I was first hired, I was a full time grad student.  They offered me a lot of flexibility and I was able to focus on school while still earning money.  Though it's been great, I'm ready to move on.  I've graduated, I have my master's degree, and I'm ready to work in my field.

I've added on the full time unpaid job of searching for jobs.  I'll be honest...I do not at all enjoy this process.  I feel as though I've applied for about 3849283927 jobs, but always get that "thanks, but no thanks" email.  Or they'll call for an interview and then go with someone else.  It has to be one of the most discouraging and disheartening processes ever.  Now that I've whined and complained...here are some positives...

This past week has been quite the uplifting one as far as the job hunt goes.  I had a second phone interview with a residential youth facility in Oregon and was offered a in-person interview and observation on the spot.  That's going to happen on Thursday, and I'm really looking forward to it.  It was so encouraging to have that happen.  While on the phone interviewing with the residential facility, Child Protective Services emailed me, inviting me to be a part of a group interview.  It was a great half hour for me!  That interview will happen in a couple weeks.

But here's the kicker...almost a month ago, I applied for a Qualified Mental Health Professional (QMHP...or Q) position at MacLaren, one of the youth correctional facilities in Oregon, located in Woodburn.  Essentially, the position is what I did during my internship, just at the facility in Woodburn (my internship was in Salem).  As I applied, I wanted to pinch myself...I thought I was dreaming.  I don't think people realized just how much I loved and wanted this position.  I applied the day the position opened and have been sending up prayers every day since.  Last Friday, the position closed.  I hadn't heard anything, so I figured that once again, my application was a "thanks, but no thanks."  Tuesday morning, I was listening to a voicemail when I saw that I was getting a phone call from "MacLaren."  My stomach found it's way to my throat, but I somehow found a way to muster up a "Hello?"  I had been invited to interview for the Q position.  I literally almost exploded.  Thursday afternoon, I would be making my way to Woodburn to interview.

When Thursday finally arrived, I was a nervous wreck all morning.  I prayed all the way to Woodburn.  As soon as I hit the gate house, I was so excited to be back on OYA property.  I love these places.  This was where I was designed to work.  I made my way to the admin building and read the interview questions.  When my turn finally arrived, I walked into the HR office and did my best in that 30 minutes to tell them why I should be the new Q on the Troy unit.  They said it would be the middle to end of next week before I heard anything.  I have been waiting on pins and needles.  I'm doing the best I can to not get my hopes up, but it's so hard.  I want this job more than I can express.

Here's to staying encouraged despite the craziness, to moving forward, and to a God who answers our wildest of prayers.

Accomplished.

Well folks, it's finally happened...I graduated.  It's a bizarre feeling, really.  I've been in school since I was two years old.  The longest break I ever had from school was six months.  Now, I'm done.

I've tried to decide how I feel about and realized that, in all honesty, I really just need some more time to adjust to this big transition.  And that's what it is.  I find myself having to adjust from living the life of a student to living the life of an "adult."  I've worked through high school, college, and grad school, so adjusting to work won't really be the issue.  It's the days off that will throw me.  Usually, my off days were spent reading mental health books, doing homework, or getting together with people from school to work on a group project.  Now, I can read books that I want to read, take my dog for walks, and get together with people just to be with them.

The hooding ceremony was amazing.  As I walked across the stage, holding my hood, and being greeted by Michelle and Keith, I realized that this didn't just mark me receiving my degree.  As I knelt down and had them place my hood over me, I realized that I was being welcomed and accepted by two outstanding professionals in the counseling field.

Thankful doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling.  The last two years have been painful, joyful, tearful, and prayerful.  I wouldn't be where I am today had it not been for a massive number of graceful, helpful, prayerful people.  This degree...the fancy letters that now follow my name...they belong to you all, too.  As cliche as it sounds, I could not have done it without you.  My life is richly blessed by you and love you all dearly.

Sincerely,
Shannon S. Lee, MA

Fifth.

When her mama told us that she was pregnant, I couldn't wait.  Another baby to love on, kiss, and snuggle?  Nothing is better than that.  I hoped the baby would be a ginger, just like her daddy.  But I knew I'd love this baby no matter what she looked like.

On Christmas Day, my family gathered for our annual gift exchange.  Carrie had planned it so that how we figured out our gift selecting order would also be how they revealed the gender of the baby.  The notecards eventually spelled out "we're having a..." and we all attempted to guess, and then they finally told us...it was a girl!  We couldn't believe it.  My grandmother had seven granddaughters and no grandsons...she was convinced her first great-grandchild would be a boy.  But to our beautifully pleasant surprise, it was a girl.

When she finally graced us with her presence on May 7, my heart almost exploded with joy and love for this new little girl...this new little girl with red hair.

Emerson Elizabeth was never a shy girl.  Even as a baby, she would happily go with others and smile so wide that the smile would spread all the way around the room.  She still isn't a shy girl.  She'll tell a stranger at a restaurant to push in their chair and will ask the little girl across the street on Halloween if she wants to come over for some candy.  For such a little girl, she has a big personality.  And that big personality comes with a big heart full of a lot of love.

To my Emerson,
Today, you are a whole hand...you are five years old.  I am always amazed by you and your contagious joy.  You love your brother, your cousin, Dora, and princesses.  And I love you.  I'm blessed to be a part of your life and cannot tell you how wonderful it is to have you as a part of mine.  Keep being you, because whoever you are, that is perfect.  Love you with every inch of me.

Sixth.

It was the summer before my freshmen year of college when I found out that there was a special something going on in her mommy's belly.  As I went through my freshmen year of college, I anxiously awaited the arrival of this little bug.  Then, on April 28th, sister girl arrived.

As she went through the first year(s) of life, Audrey Elizabeth had the greatest baby mohawk I've ever seen in my life.  During bathtime, I loved making bug's hair into the most perfect mohawk.  Though I'm thankful for her beautiful brown locks now, sometimes I miss being able to style stink bug's hair like that.

On her first birthday, buggy got into her cake like I've never seen a baby do in my life.  I was so proud of sister bug as she dug in without fear...just like she continues to do now.

To my Audrey,
Today, you are you six years old.  I cannot believe it has already been six years since I praised God and smiled my face off as you joined our world.  You make me laugh all the time and I am continuously amazed by how stubborn you are.  You love trying to be sneaky, swim lessons, and running home from school as fast as you can.  I love that you allow me to share in your life and I'm thankful to be a part of yours.  You're beautiful...never forget that.  Love you with all I have.

Third.

I remember being in the Memorial Union at OSU when I found out that Caroline was just a twinkle in her daddy's eye and a peanut in her mommy's belly. I remember being so excited for Catherine and Audrey to be big sisters. I remember anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little baby, not knowing if she was going to be a William or a Caroline. I remember checking my email every five minutes, waiting to get one that said she had arrived. I remember getting an email with a subject line that read "It's a..." And it was a girl. But not just any girl. It was my Caroline Marie. My sweets.

Caroline Marie.

I remember meeting her for the first time. I played with the big girls while the little one napped. When she finally woke up, I snuggled her in my arms...smooching her sweet cheeks, taking in the warmth and joy that can only come from a newborn. Sweets had stolen my heart.

Snuggling my girl for the first time.

I remember celebrating her first birthday. She looked beautiful in her dress. She made a beautiful mess of the cake and still looked just as beautiful in her jams as she nestled into mama's lap to open presents (with the help of big sister, Audrey, of course). Lina-Loo was the life of the party.

It would appear that sister girl enjoyed her cake.

I remember when she first started walking. She was a "Franken-baby." Arms out wide, legs out wide...but she worked that floor like she owned it. Loo was the light of my life.

Ok, she's not walking in this picture, but she was right before it was taken!

What I don't remember is my girl growing up so quickly...

To my Caroline,
Today is your third birthday. I can't believe it's already been three years since you joined our world. I am so thankful that you did. You make me laugh and bring joy to me that is unimaginable. You love fruit snacks and Dora and love hanging out with Violet. You look up to Catherine and Audrey is your best friend and worst enemy. I love being a part of your life. Thank you for being exactly who you are. You're beautiful in every way. Keep shining, Loo Bear. Love you with all my heart.

Happy Birthday, Princess!

Day Seven.

March 25, 2011.

I don’t want it to be over. I’m not ready for it to be over. Why does it have to be over? It feels like we’ve only been here for two days…not a week. This morning, while the men hunted and gathered (aka – built/finished the shed for Jonas), we organized a lot at the base camp. We also got to deliver goodies to the Church school during their recess. Sweet little Rishna clung to me the whole time. So sweet. We made lunches for the guys, packed, and waited for them to come back. After a quick lunch, we loaded up the tap taps to head to Pastor Baland’s orphanage. Traffic was awful and it was miserably hot in the tap tap. On our way up the mountain, our tap tap overheated so we had to pull of. Thank goodness for Sam and Mike! Actually getting to the orphanage was crazy. Bad streets made it difficult, but boy was it worth it. The second we walked in the gate, the children clapped, screamed, and laughed. A sweet little girl was quacking like a duck and holding her arms out towards me. I scooped her up and Lovely’s feet didn’t touch the ground the rest of the time we were there. It was a joy getting to comfort her. There would be moments where she’d start to cry, so I’d squeeze her tighter, tell her that I got her, and love on her. For a while, she fell asleep in my arms. Melt. My. Heart. Leaving was difficult. As I went to set her down, she curled up her legs and shook her head no. when I finally was able to put her down, I kissed her cheek and told her that I loved her. She probably won’t remember me, but I’ll always remember her. A ride up a terrifying mountain road led us to the lookout, where we bartered like crazy for stuff. The lookout…whoa. I didn’t realize how high up we were…talk about terrifying. We headed home after and that was a fun car ride. I visited Francz when we got back. We exchanged contact info and he gave me his necklace. His is precious and will always be in my prayers. Dinner was so good and our final debrief followed. Craig bought a last minute painting for $5 that I said I liked up at the lookout. He asked me if I wanted to buy it, and I said I had $5 if he really wanted to give it up. He looked at it, handed it back to me, and said “Merry Christmas.” I started to pull my wallet out and he said no. Because he didn’t have anyone to give things to, he wants to give things to people every so often. Craig, you’re a good man and you’re greatly appreciated. Earlier in this entry, I asked why this had to end. It doesn’t. The only thing that’s ending is my time in Haiti. What I learned here, what I gained here, how I grew here, and how I changed here will always be with me. A big piece of my heart is and always will be in Haiti. I am 100% determined to come back. Between now and then, I plan to live each day with conviction. I plan to remain humbled. I plan to give each day to the Lord so that His hand is in all I do. I plan to pray for Haiti and it’s people. I plan to further develop my relationship in Christ and further develop the changes made in me. It’s not over. It’s just beginning. Thank you for everything, Lord. I love you and I am forever humbled. Thank you Haiti for allowing me to be a part of your world. I love it.

My sweet Lovely...

Day Six.

March 24, 2011.

I’m fairly sure everyone hit their wall today. It was funny. But aside from the humor of that, today was an emotional day for sure. This morning, after FINISHING THE PAVERS, we walked over to Jonas’ school, which is in a tent city. Wow. You hear about it, but until you see it, you don’t realize it’s magnitude. There are literally thousands of tents. Different animals roam the area (goats, dogs) and where there weren’t tents, it seemed like there was garbage. Just like everything else here, it reminded me of how much I have to be thankful for and it humbled me immensely. Thought pause: I’m listening to music as I write this and the song currently playing is “Hosana.” The bridge is so applicable to this moment/this journal entry/this week, so I’m writing it down: “Heal my heart and make it clean/Open up my eyes to the things unseen/Show me how to love like You have loved me/Break my heart for what breaks Yours/Everything I am for Your kingdom’s cause/As I walk from Earth into eternity.” Those middle lines are so true right now. Okay, unpause. After we left the school, a few of us went to John and Debbie’s to paint the bakery. After we lunch, we watered and sanded the paths, with a little socializing in between. A small group of women from our team went to teach a women’s English class. Oh my gosh. That was amazing. Those women were so fearfully and wonderfully made. I felt like I left that place with five more mothers. They sang “Because He Lives” in Creole. Major goosebumps. They sang without a care. They gave their everything in their voices and hands. They had a conviction like I’ve never seen and I fell in love with each of them. Debbie told me that tomorrow, they would be going out to evangelize and bring people to a special service on Friday and Saturday. Wow. What an incredible thing. I have loved so much this week watching just how much God’s hand has been in everything. Literally EVERYTHING. Tonight was just a weird night because everyone is just done. The guys spent all day outside, on our hottest day yet, building a shed for Jonas’ school. Words can’t express how much I love this team. The guys are wonderful men of faith, and the women are of purest heart. We’ve bonded so strongly and there has never been a moment of conflict (that I know of). Again, the hand of God was on and in this. I’m so sad that our time here is almost up. I feel like I’ve learned and grown so much and I pray that I am able to maintain this as I go home. Two words: PRAISE GOD.

Tent city

Day Five.

March 23, 2011.

I waited until Thursday to journal about Wednesday because I was too emotional. The morning was rough. It was day three of pavers and I had reached my breaking point. I was done cutting, done laying, done having to wear tennis shoes that were covered in cement dust and water. I was a little mopey the rest of the morning, but I survived. Lunch came and went and then it was time to go to the orphanage. Tuesday night we were told that emotions tend to run high on orphanage days. Understatement of the century. We arrived and pulled into a gated- and cement-walled-off area. We watched little girls watch us pull in and I wasn’t sure how to feel. We handed out gift bags and listened to wild chatter in Creole. Then a girl asked Ezra about a tampon, and he turned to Megan. Megan had to have Jackie, a male compound worker, translate. The little girls’ faces were that of sheer terror. We played “down by the banks” and a similar Haitian game that had us count “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9.” When that was over, we made friendship bracelets. The biggest hit, though, were our cameras. Mine went missing for a while, which worried me, but I got it back and found pictures of the inside of their tents. How the girls live that way year round, I’ll never know. We walked down and started working on preparing their garden. I just spent time with the girls. When we started passing candy out towards the end, I was amazed at how quickly the girls switched into survival mode. They’d pocket candy or run it to their bed and come back, claiming they never got any. It was hard to watch. After distributing punching balloons, the worst part came…saying goodbye. I had grown close with two girls, Mishlo and Jaylan. I squeezed eight year old Mishlo and told her I wanted her to be my second carry on and that I loved her. I hugged 16 year old Jaylan multiple times, telling her she was beautiful and that I loved her. As I jumped into the tap tap, I looked at her and she started to cry. That’s when I lost it. I blew her a kiss, told her I’d never forget her, that I’d pray for her, and that I’d love her forever. As we drove away, I realized that these girls probably have to think that people are temporary. We come into their world for a while, then leave, and maybe even forget about them. But Carolyn brought up a good point at tonight’s (Thursday’s) debrief. Our interactions may be temporary, but that brief interaction brings them hope and reminds them that they are not forgotten. And I can honestly say that I will not forget any of the sweet faces and souls I saw. Debrief was emotional. The orphans had a deep and lasting impact on everyone. I think almost the entire team cried at one point or another. It was really special and really beautiful. If that doesn’t demonstrate to those girls that they are loved and never be forgotten, I don’t know what will. I can’t believe that we only have two days left. This week has gone by so fast. I have to come back. Obviously, that’s my plan, but it’s something that I’ll need to talk to God about. I’m amazed at my relationship with Him and I’m forever in awe of His work. God, thank you. Haiti and it’s people are some of Your best work. Thank you for bringing me here. I’m forever humbled.

The team with the girls at the orphanage

Day Four.

March 22, 2011.

I watched myself become a different person today. I literally feel shocked because of it. This morning, all I was ready for and expecting was Haiti day four. That’s not what I got at all. I was up super early…maybe that was an indicator. Time to prep my heart. Got ready, ate a simple breakfast, then lathered on sunscreen and bug spray as I prepared for a long day laying pavers. Before long, I was being trained on how to cut the pavers. Me plus a skill saw didn’t seem like the best idea initially. But God thought I could do it. So I did. I cut all but one paver, and that was the one I watched. Intense? Yes. Awesome? Yes. Then I was off to teach English to children at the Church school. What a blessing. Each child was fearfully and wonderfully made. I loved them all so much. After lunch, I was back to cutting pavers, leading us to complete one walkway. That was a sense of accomplishment, my friends. Quick rinse off before we were off to teach in the adult beginning English class. Again, it was a blessing. What beautiful souls they all have. Leading with Jake, singing with the Haitians, watching them sing/sign “Jesus Loves Me…” wow. God is so awesome. After class, I met Jenny (aka Jenny from the block). I adore her. At 15 years old, she is wise and beautiful. She wants to be a doctor and I fully believe that she can do it. Jenny, you’re in my prayers always. Keep voting for Jesus. After class and dinner, the team bonded together to finish the other walkway. It was too dark for me to cut, and Chris and I have to make more pavers in the morning, but the bond our team has finished what we could. I love this team so much. Debrief was awesome…after almost six months of struggling with the UN, it looks as though we may finally get the Church building tomorrow. PRAISE GOD! So how did today change me? I fell deeper in love with my Lord and Savior. I gained confidence. I found strength I never knew God had for me/had planned for me. I don’t feel sad. This is true happiness. God, you are awesome. I love you SO much.

Sweet Jenny

Day Three.

March 21, 2011.

You know when the Lord calls you to do something and you aren’t 100% sure about it at first? Yeah, that was me coming to Haiti. I was terrified about flying to a level four, third world country with people I don’t know. I hated that I would have no communication with my family, friends, or Daniel. But I kept my trust in Him and here I am. Day three is now over and there are three major (obviously more) reasons why I know beyond a doubt that the Lord called me here. One: being here doesn’t feel unnatural. I feel like I was 110% supposed to come here. Two: this team has become a family. We laugh, we share intimate details, we’re honest, we love the Lord with all we have. It’s awesome. Three: I’ve gone three days without speaking to anyone at home. That’s a record. Yes, I miss them, but I really don’t mind that we haven’t been able to communicate. God has been doing some huge work in my life and I am beyond thankful. Today was long. Woke up, got ready, had some delicious oatmeal (with trail mix). After that, I spent three hours laying pavers. Three words: hot, tedious, annoying. Levels, hammers, sand, wood…words I hope to never hear again. Lunch was sandwiches. Basic, but for whatever reason, delicious. I went to the house after to help put together things for the orphanage. Hygiene bags, hair accessories, candy, cute bags…little things, but all hold big plans created by the Lord. It’s awesome. Varnished the bathrooms when we got back. That was a smelly, sticky, hot mess. Helped with little things around the compound after that. Dinner was spaghetti, salad, and bread…so good. After dinner, we all dashed outside for foursquare, Frisbee, and fun. Unfortunately, we were out no longer than five minutes when a truck full of boys ruined our fun. But not to worry, we played some serious bologna and UNO to keep us laughing. A great debrief led me to finally express my fear of an MS relapse while here. I was prayed over and it brought me to tears. Two months ago, these people were strangers. Tonight, they became more than I asked for or expected. To me, that’s a huge God-thing. These last two days have been difficult because of elections. We haven’t been able to leave to the compound, except to go to the house, for safety reasons. I understand, but I’m ready to see more. God, I don’t know what you’re doing, but I like it! Keep up the good works ☺ I love you!

Beginning the big project...

Day Two.

March 20, 2011.

First full day in Haiti. It got "cold" last night, which surprised me. But I wasn't about to complain because I knew it was going to get warm later. We slept with the door open to keep it cool. Only disadvantage (besides me being freaked out because my bed is right inside the door) is that when the sun rises at 5.30, it floods the dorm with light. I was up with the sun, so I began making lists. After people started moving, I got ready for Church (love those military showers). I wasn't sure what to expect from Church this morning besides well-dressed Haitians and a three hour service. But whoa. You know how the Bible says "For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them"? Well, God was SO present today. As I watched the Haitian congregation worship in Creole without hesitation, it made me think. These people, who have next to nothing, have all they need because they have God. The shout and clap and sway and don't care who says what. They come as they are. They worship with a child-like heart. Why can't I do that? I'm embarrassed by my bad voice. God doesn't care as long as I'm lifting my voice to Him. During Church, I turned around to say hello to three little giggling girls behind me. As I extended my hand in greeting, they took it and didn't let go. They stared at it and picked at it. My guess was that they'd never seen skin that fair before. I invited them to come sit with me. There were kids surrounding us during service and all of them were little sponges. They loved pens and paper and drew for us or practiced writing. God did some of His best work with these kids. After Church, we socialized. I met five teenage/young adult Haitians who were awesome. Francz (who is 24, was born on Valentines day, and is one of our compound guards), Emanuel (drummer for the worship band and Francz's cousin), Peter, Jerry, and a long French name that starts with F but I can't remember. After that, we headed in for lunch. Work was done around the compound (doors, windows, walkways) between lunch and youth group. Youth group was SO fun. We sang, prayed, and discussed what we'd do if we were scheduled to get married at four but at 3.55, our mother needed to be taken to the ER. We also discussed, by request of the youth, differences between America and Haiti. Traffic and weather came up, as did fast food, which couldn't even be conceptualized by the Haitians. We learned a couple Haitian songs, then it was time to play. That was a blast. Foursquare, soccer, frisbee...I tell you what, they take soccer seriously. Skirts, bare feet in gravel...doesn't matter. I had a blast with them. We got yelled at to come in (bummer), so the Haitians left and we headed in for dinner, hilarious conversation (spin the bottle), and debrief. Bed around 9.30. I love this team. I love these Haitians. I love love LOVE the Lord and what He's doing.

Sweet little ones at Church

Day One.

March 19, 2011.

First day in Haiti. As we waited and slept on the floor of the Miami airport after long travels, it seemed almost surreal to think that our next stop would be Haiti. We boarded and discovered we were sitting in first class, which made all the travel seem a little less horrible. As we started the descent, you could see the beauty of God's creation. The closer we got, the more the devastation became apparent. Getting through the airport was crazy. After a luggage mix up and a few "vultures," we loaded up into the van and headed down a road that has NO traffic laws. Upon arrival at the compound, we settled in and spent some time with Haitian students. Lunch and a tour of the compound followed. After that, we spent over two hours sorting out seeds. Hundreds of thousands of seed packets. It seemed like we barely made a dent. We then had our rules meeting, followed by a rousing game of uno and a delicious dinner. By this point, everyone was exhausted and started getting ready for bed. We all cuddled into bed around eight. God is already working big time in me. Though I was a little unsettled and overwhelmed, He has calmly and lovingly wrapped His arms around me, making me more confident and calm then ever before. Wow, Lord. You do some mighty fine work. Thank you.

Flying into Port-Au-Prince

Looking Back.

I realized that at this time a year ago, I was on my way to Haiti. It's hard to believe that a year has passed since I was amazing blessed by that amazing country. To reflect on that time, I am going to post my journal entry from that day on the day it was written a year ago. I miss Haiti...and I can't wait to go back.

Mwen Renment Ayiti!

Word.

Today is "Spread the Word to End the Word" day. If you haven't already, visit this website and make the pledge to end the use of the r-word.

Like so many other words in our society, the word "retard" or "retarded" is derogatory and hurtful. I have a 28 year old sister who has spent her life having to deal with the ignorance of others who don't care to understand or get to know her simply because she looks different. Yes, she has Down syndrome. But she's just like everyone else. She simply wants to be loved and accepted for how she is. And I tell you what my friends, she is a prime example of someone who loves and accepts people for exactly how they are.

I urge you to do the same by making the pledge and spreading the word to END the word.

I made this video this morning to give people a glimpse of who my sister really is and how hurtful the r-word can be. Let's make it our goal to make the new r-word "respect."

Rescued.

I have a dog. She's a little bit crazy, a whole bunch of clumsy, but mostly adorable. I picked her up on September 30, 2010. And I tell you what...I'm one lucky girl.

When I was two, my family got our first dog. A cocker spaniel named Amber. I loved that dog so stinkin' much. She was with us until she had a stroke my freshmen year of high school, then we had to put her down. That still ranks as one of the saddest days of my life.

My sister and I rocking the matching track jackets with our sweet dog

In high school, I became a puppy raiser for Canine Companions for Independence, an organization that trains service dogs. I picked up a perky, eight week old yellow lab puppy from the airport and I immediately knew that Sully would be a handful. I wasn't wrong, but he was still a sweet dog. He was only with us for a short period of time, but I still loved him.

Doesn't he look thrilled to be in his training cape?

Long story short...I love dogs. And I knew as soon as I grew up and moved out, I wanted one. I didn't get one early on after I moved out because I needed to settle down a little bit first. Once I had lived on my own for almost a year, I knew it was time.

I began searching for dogs. I used petfinder.com, and it led me to Project POOCH. Project POOCH is at MacLaren Youth Correctional Facility. Select youth there train dogs and prepare them for adoption. Now, by this point, you know how I have a passion for prison, and once I heard about what these dogs do for the youth, I knew I had to meet a couple dogs. I met two very sweet dogs, one of which came for a home visit. I loved him, but he wasn't meant to be my dog...it just didn't feel right. So the search continued. I perused the Oregon Humane Society website pretty close to daily, writing down the names of dogs that I liked. Once I had a large packet prepared, Daniel and I journeyed down to OHS. We were too late for play visits, so we just wandered through the pods, greeting through kennel doors the dogs on my list. There were a couple I really liked and thought I'd want to meet the next day. But then I found MY dog. We walked up to Lilly Bean's kennel. She was in the back on her bed, so I called her name. She trotted up to the door and flopped onto her back, exposing her belly. She looked at me with this face that said "well, aren't you going to rub my belly?" I fell in love.

The next morning, I was at OHS as soon as the doors opened. I had placed a hold on Lilly Bean the night before, so no one could come in and steal her away from me first thing in the morning. I asked to see her in a play room. They brought her in and I just knew...she was my dog. We played for about five minutes and I told the person who worked there that I was ready to take her home. She seemed surprised, but I think she understood the connection. I went through all the paperwork and adoption information, paid for my girl, and anxiously waited in the lobby for them to bring her out. We loaded her in my car and she and I headed home.

Adoption photo

I've had my girl for almost a year and a half now. I am just as in love with her as I was the day I picked her up. Sure, she has epilepsy and a massive tumor on her neck, but she is my sunshine. She's a great cuddle buddy, loves to play but isn't crazy energetic, and has gotten over her abusive past quite nicely.

People say I rescued Lilly Bean. Which is true, I guess. But here's the thing...I think she rescued me. She makes me happy and reminds me that simple, unwavering love is the best kind of love there is.

My sweet girl

Whoops.

I've been a bad blogger. I apologize. I tell you what...life has caught up with me. Yikes. Here is my list of excuses for you:

1. My masters thesis (part one) was due last month, so all of my spare time was spent writing that.
2. I've spent a lot of time doing family things, which were required of me following having to say goodbye to gramma.
3. I'm in my last semester of graduate school.
4. I was too busy making a list of excuses to actually write a blog post instead.

Well, how's that? Did that work? No...alright. Well, here's what we'll do. I'll give you a (brief) update on my life and hopefully that will hold you over until I write my next post (which will likely be about my hair-covered child that is currently curled up at my feet).

Here you go...

-I've started my LAST semester of graduate school. I'm only taking a couple classes and it has been nice so far (but we're only three weeks in). It's becoming really surreal that I'm so close to graduating. I'm not exactly sure what to think yet.
-I'm currently working on applying for jobs following graduation. It's hard to apply for jobs because I want to apply for ones that require a masters degree, but I technically don't have it yet, so I'm "not qualified." Read my application and wait three months...you'll see I'm qualified.
-I'm LOVING my internship. Seriously...best site ever. But more on that later (probably...we all know how good I am at blogging...)

Wow. Sad...I guess that's just another piece of evidence that my life is now revolving around school. A more positive post to come soon, my friends...

Miracles and Goodbyes.

This post doesn't feel like one that will be easy to write. I may shed a few tears as I write it, but that's okay. Tears can be a good thing.

I have always been close to my grandmother. I grew up two blocks from her house and we would always spend time over there. In college, I spent a couple summers living at her house and spent two semesters of senior year living with her. When she moved into the retirement community, I moved into her house and have been living there for two years now.

On Christmas Eve, I was enjoying dinner with my family when my mom's phone began to ring. It was my uncle (dad's younger brother), so she answered. She made this face that didn't look like a good one and I heard her ask "is she going to the hospital?" My heart sank...I knew it was my gramma. She handed the phone to my dad and we wrapped up dinner as quickly as we could. My dad and I gathered up our things (and our courage) and jumped in the car to drive up to Portland. The car ride was quiet, except for my phone going off with updates from my uncle, who was at the hospital. When we arrived, my uncle swept my dad away and I sat in the waiting room of the ER with three of my cousins. After a few hours there, we were told that she was being moved to the ICU. My aunt, uncle, and dad moved their cars, but my cousins and I chose to walk through the hospital to get there. We silently all held hands, trying to make light of the situation. We were later informed that my gramma had a collapsed lung and severe pneumonia. She was put on life support and kept medically asleep. A specialist was called in and a procedure was done. Though it took a little longer due to her condition, she showed immediate improvement, which the doctor said was rare. She told us that there wouldn't be much change, if any, overnight, so my dad and I headed home.

I hardly slept, crying out to God for a miracle, for my grandmother to be healed. Christmas morning, my family tried to keep things as normal as possible. We opened gifts, ate breakfast, and continued to pray for a miracle. My family drove to Portland to visit gramma. It was the first time I was able to see her (aside from seeing her briefly when she was wheeled into the ICU). She was still asleep, but I just held onto her hand, told her that I loved her so much, and that everyone was in the waiting room, praying for a miracle. Gramma was stable, but was in critical condition. She was still on life support, but they were trying to wean her off oxygen. She seemed to be doing well with that and by the time we had left late that afternoon, the doctor said they were hoping to take her off life support the next day. We went to my mom's family's house for Christmas dinner. As much as I loved spending time with my family and getting to love on the little ones, my heart and my head were with my gramma. I desperately searched around, trying to get my shift at work in the morning covered so that I could just be at the hospital all day the next day. Something deep in my heart (and head and gut) told me that I just needed to be there.

Monday morning arrived and I got ready for work, as I was not sure if anyone had replied to my supervisor about working for me. When I arrived and saw someone working my job, I immediately left and went to the hospital. When I arrived, I quickly set my stuff down in the waiting room and went back to my gramma's room. She was awake and alert. She wanted so badly to talk, but couldn't due to her breathing tube. I walked in to her room while the nurses were taking care of her. They told me I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted to, but that because she was so agitated, they were going to sedate her soon. I greeted my gramma, grabbing her hand, and telling her just how much I loved her. She looked at me with this look that seemed to say "please leave...I don't want to be seen like this." I told her that other family would be coming soon and she shook her head "no." To this day, I am 100% convinced that gramma said no because she did not want her family to see her like this. I talked to gramma as if we were having a normal conversation and I noticed gramma starting to cry. I do not know if it was the pain or the fact that her granddaughter was seeing her the way she was, but those tears were real. And those tears shattered my heart into a million pieces. I was able to ask her yes/no questions and she would squeeze my hand to give a response. She slowly drifted off to sleep and I left her room to let her rest. Before I did, I spoke briefly with her nurse and doctor. Before I go on, I just want to say how much I LOVED her care team that day. Dr. Tucker and Marseile (her nurse) were so kind and helpful and really, truly cared about my grandmother. What a blessing they were during some of our most difficult days. Back to her story. They told me (since I was the only family there so far), that they were not confident enough with how she was doing to take her off support, so they would be leaving everything in/on.

I headed back into the waiting room and waited for other family to arrive. I attempted to work on my master's thesis, spoke with the chaplain, and texted updates to people who were praying. My aunt arrived with her three daughters and they went to say hello to gramma. We played games in the ICU waiting room, which had become our family base camp. With the size (and noise level) that comes with my family, it does not come as a surprise that people chose the larger waiting room to sit in. Daniel came to the hospital for a little while in the afternoon. He came in with me to see her. He stood there with me and rubbed my back as the nurse did a procedure to try to make my grandmother more comfortable. I was more than thankful for him that day, especially in that moment.

At 4:00, I said goodbye to Daniel, as my family was going to be meeting with my grandmother's care team to discuss all that was going on. We all gathered in the ICU conference room, seated in a circle, and Dr. Tucker and Marseile joined us. They ran down all of the medical information for us, explaining to us all that they had done, how she had responded, and what the outcomes had been. Over the first 24 hours, she had shown improvement, but then began to decline and the progress seemed to have stopped and gramma was declining once again. They asked us if we had any questions. On Christmas Eve, when my dad, Uncle Keith, Uncle Steve, Amanda, and I met Dr. Tucker for the first time, she told us that patients will usually choose their track within the first 24 hours - fight or...well, the other. I was really proud of Amanda at our meeting on the 26th because she had the courage to ask the question that all of us had on our hearts and mind. What track had our mom/gramma/momer chosen? It was the answer none of us wanted to hear, but we all knew. It was the other.

After many more questions, Dr. Tucker and Marseile left the room, leaving the family to discuss what our plan was for gramma. We all knew that she was in pain and that she was ready to be reunited with grampa. Because of that knowledge, we knew it would be selfish to keep her on life support. So, after passing around a box of tissues, we told Dr. Tucker our decision. We wanted our gramma to be comfortable. We waited for my cousin to be dropped off after basketball practice before taking everything out. We all went and saw her one more time before she was slightly alert. Another nurse came in, asking if one of us wanted to go with her to pick out a quilt for gramma. I decided to go, looking at beautiful quilts that were made and donated to the hospital. I picked one out for her that was purple, her favorite color. Once we put it on her, we saw that some of the patches had gardening tools on it, which was one of gramma's favorite past times. It was like that quilt was designed just for her. I also noticed that the quilt was made by the "Coffee Creek Quilters." For those that don't know, Coffee Creek is the women's prison in Oregon. So, a little piece of me was with that quilt as well. Once everything was out, just about everyone in our family gathered in gramma's small room. We took turns holding her hands, talked, laughed, and shared stories. We were all "trapped" in the room during shift change. They normally don't allow visitors to stay in the unit during shift change, but they made a special exception for us. We all told Marseile to come see us before she left for the night. She came in to say goodbye, but being the amazing woman that she is, stayed to talk to us. She asked us questions about gramma, saying that she wanted to get to know her when she wasn't sick. She knew that our gramma had diabetes and asked what kind of candy gramma would eat if she could have. Almost in unison, we all said "Reese's Peanut Butter Cups." We all gave Marseile hugs before she left, thanking her profusely for all that she had done for our family.

Our new nurse came in, telling us that new admits needed ICU beds, so gramma was going to be moved to a room on a medical floor. We all quietly exited her room as they prepared to move her. My mom, dad, and sister said their goodbyes to gramma, as they would be heading home to Corvallis. As we were leaving the ICU area, Marseile stopped my youngest cousin and handed her a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. She told her it was the only one she could find, but she wanted to make sure it got to our family. Once again, I was amazed by the beautiful, simple kindness of this amazing nurse. We walked through the hospital, my youngest cousins and I linking arms or hands. We waited near the waiting room of the medical floor, figuring out what we were going to do, as her new room was much smaller than the one in the ICU. When gramma finally arrived in her room, we came up with a plan of attack and decided that, even though we weren't hungry, that we needed to eat. My cousin and I took orders and hurried over to a nearby Subway. We journeyed back to the hospital, slowly ate, and tried to figure out what the rest of the night was going to look like. I eventually ventured back to gramma's room and took my place by her bed. On Christmas Eve, when I first learned about my gramma being taken to the hospital, I wanted to prepare my heart to say goodbye. What became very important to me was not allowing my gramma to die alone. So I was prepared to spend days by her side if that is what it came down to. I sat by her bed, my hand in hers, spending time with my family. My aunt went home, followed by my other aunt and one of her daughters. Eventually, it came down to four of my cousins, my uncle, and myself in her room. I had one hand, Becca had the other. We all sat around the room, talking about things that I remember being a part of, but I can't remember now. In the midst of all of our talking, we would watch gramma. Her color was fading. At one point, her breath sounds changed dramatically. We all got nervous and brought the nurse in. She told us that what we heard was normal for someone that was in the process gramma was going in. We thanked her and tried to carry on, all the while each of us knowing that these were are last precious moments with gramma. Conversations kept going, laughter mixed with tears, and we all rallied around each other. My cousin Jenny put lip glass on that smelled like chocolate. Carrie decided to put some on gramma because, being diabetic, she never really got to enjoy (good) chocolate, so we wanted to make sure she had that opportunity.

We continued watching gramma. Watching her breathing became more labored. Watching as we were preparing to say our final goodbyes. We would be talking, then notice a pause between breaths. The room would go silent until we saw that next breath, then we were all able to breathe again. This continued for a while. We talked and watched, watched and talked. My uncle left the room, needing to just take a walk. In the middle of one of our conversations, I found myself looking at gramma, waiting for the pause to end. It was longer than normal. I waited...we all waited. I turned and looked at each of my cousins. I walked out to the nurses' station, and another cousin went to get my uncle. Joan came in the room with her stethoscope. You could hear a pin drop in that room as we waited. Nothing. She was gone.

As I write this, I can see it so clearly. Joan said how sorry she was for our loss and left to get the nursing supervisor. I looked around the room at each family member, all of which had silent tears running down their faces. I texted my mom, telling her that gramma was with grampa now. I texted Daniel, telling him that she was with the Lord. The nurse told us we could leave whenever we were ready. I continued to sit, holding my grandmother's hand as other family members said their goodbyes and left the room. I continued to hold to my promise that my gramma would not be alone. I waited until the nursing supervisor came in, asking her when I would absolutely have to leave, because I did not want my grandmother to be alone. She told me now, because they would soon be up to take her away. I squeezed my gramma's hand, stood up, and gave her what would be her last hug and cheek kiss, just like we would do every time. I told her to say hi to grampa for me, and told her once more just how much I loved her. I grabbed her quilt, opened the door, and turned to look at her one more time before I closed the door.

The drive home, though brief, felt like the longest car ride of my life. Daniel was at my house when I got home. I didn't even make it in the door when I completely lost it. My heart had shattered into a thousand pieces that felt as though they could never be repaired. My life had been turned upside down and I felt more lost than I could ever remember feeling. Daniel sat me down on the couch as I cried. Living in what used to be my grandmother's house, I felt sick to my stomach that night. I just couldn't imagine sleeping in a house that was so full of a spirit that was now gone. Daniel helped me grab what I needed, grabbed my dog, and we drove to his parents house. Once there, the numbness, pain, and tears continued. I didn't sleep that night, texting friends who I knew would still be up. The next morning, more emails and text messages. I walked downstairs and Sarah (Daniel's mom), embraced me. Once again, I lost it. Life just didn't feel right anymore.

On January 4th, we held a memorial service for my grandmother. Since we weren't having an open casket, having a viewing before the service was vital to me. I needed that closure. Thanks to my incredible father, it was made possible. That morning, my mom and I went to the funeral home. I spent a half an hour in the room, talking to my grandmother. I know I probably would have looked like a crazy person to anyone that walked in, but I had to do it. I placed two pictures in her casket with her, one of her entire family and one of her seven granddaughters. Family was one of the most important things in the world to my gramma. As I looked at the picture of my family, I looked at the gramma I remembered. She had a smile on her face that looked like the result of someone in the family making a joke right before the camera went off (typical). I wanted her to be surrounded by her family always. After leaving the room, once again, sadness and tears overcame me. I realized that the last 30 minutes I spent in that room was the last 30 minutes I would spend with my grandmother until we are reunited in heaven. It was heartwrenching. I went home and waited for family to arrive at my house.

When my cousin Amanda arrived, we went on our journey to bring joy to a seemingly difficult time. When my grampa passed away, my mom had me write him a letter. We placed it in a balloon and released it, sending it to heaven for my grampa to read. I told Amanda about that when we were discussing how the little ones, especially the four year old, would grieve. We decided we wanted to do that for gramma. After a loooooong time spent figuring everything out in Hallmark (and a HUGE thank you to the incredible employee there), we had 20+ balloons to send to our gramma. Two had pictures from the little ones, and a couple others with notes to her tucked inside. We brought sharpies and the balloons to the cemetery.

The service was beautiful. "Uncle" Steve (my uncle's best friend since third grade) officiated the service. He knew my grandmother so well, so there was no one else that could have done a better job. I was so thankful for all of those who were there that day. Daniel came and I was beyond grateful for his presence. Some of my aunts and uncles from my mom's side of the family came. That is something I love about this family...my mom's and dad's side are extremely close. It's like it's just one giant family. There was so much love for my grandmother that day. I hope she realizes how deeply loved and missed she is.

After the service was over, we passed out balloons and sharpies, writing notes on the outside of balloons. As a family, we counted to three and released the balloons. It was beautiful. We all went to lunch after, looking at things of our gramma's, including pictures and funny little notebooks she left. My gramma kept track of the winners from ALL award shows (I'm not kidding...Grammy's to Westminster Dog Show). We ate her favorite cookies (Walker's shortbread) and just spent time loving on each other.

Today is Monday, January 23rd. Four weeks ago today, at this time, I was seated by my grandmother's bed, holding her hand, and praying for the pain to go away, both her's and mine. I'm still waiting for my pain to go away. I know that someday it will, but it still isn't easy.

Gramma,
I miss you more than I can express with words. My heart hurts daily, thinking about the fact that I can no longer just come visit you, or give you a call whenever I want to. As difficult as the last four weeks have been, I can only imagine how beautiful your reunion was in Heaven. I'm sure the Lord embraced you whole-heartedly and that grampa was so glad to be reunited with his bride. I cannot wait for the day that I will enjoy the same reunion with you. I know that each person that was blessed to know you in the 91 years that you were with us is richer just by having the opportunity to love you. In my almost 25 years with you, I know that I am one of the wealthiest women on Earth. I hope to someday be half the woman that you were. Thank you for being a beautiful woman of faith and the incredible leader of this family that you were. You were always my sunshine and joy (still are) and you are now my incredible guardian angel. I love you more than Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.
All my love forever and for always,
Shannon