I Am Overwhelmed ......

.... by the sheer number of emails and the very, very, kind and supportive words that many of you have sent in the past 24 hours. I'm stunned by how many of you I've "met" today. Many, if not most, are "lurkers"/readers/supporters who've come out to share with me how my blog has affected you. Just so you know .... I think the word "lurker" is a wonderful, positive term. At least for my blog. :)

As I told many of you today, there are no words for how you've made me feel. It's so good to know that Jim's death wasn't just "wasted" ..... that it's been used for good in letting you know that you're not alone, and in letting you read my honest feelings and grief, which have mirrored some of your own. I wish I had known of that kind of blog in my first year or two .... it might have made some things less lonely .... or less crazy feeling.

I also wish that I could convey to all of you how much your words mean to me. This is not a one-sided thing. When you let me know that you're there, I, too, know that I am not alone. And we all need to know and feel that.

I'm in Oregon this week .... the state where I was born. I'm spending the week visiting my Father and my sister. I haven't seen this sister in 20 years. I got to meet 2 of her 3 daughters for the first time yesterday (I met the oldest when I was here before). They are beautiful.
Before you all gasp in unbelief that I haven't been here in 20 years, you need to know that I didn't know my sister, or my Father, until I was almost 15. My parents divorced when I was very young and my mother and I moved to Oklahoma. She married my Dad (technically my step dad, but he raised me and has always been my Dad) when I was around 3.
Families ..... we all have baggage, don't we? :)

So tonight I'm giving you a story about me .... way before I met Jim, let alone had even the tiniest notion of having one child ..... let alone 6.

This is a story that I only confessed the truth to (to my Father) last night. You know, the way we all do when we grow up and tell our parents things they had NO IDEA were going on under (or out of) their own roof. :)

The summer I turned 15 was the summer that I met my Father and his family. It's a long story, and since I can't believe how freaking long my LAST story was .... I'm going to try to keep it shorter.
Suffice it to say that I didn't know these people, and they didn't know me, but we had a reason to connect that year and my Father asked if I'd come and visit. And so I did. For the entire summer.
I have no idea what my mother was thinking (nothing against my wonderful Mom.... she did the best she could with very confusing circumstances) but I still can't believe that we all survived that summer.
I met my younger brother and my younger sister that summer (I also have a younger sister and brother, with whom I grew up). My brother is only a couple of years younger than I am and my sister is 6 years younger.
She and I got along OK for the most part, in spite of sharing a room with a complete stranger for 3 months.
My brother and I? Not so much.
He was a huge pain in the butt. And I really wasn't sure how to deal with him. The brother that I grew up with is 7 1/2 years younger than I am, so I wasn't used to being around older boys.

Anyway, my Father and his family lived in a house that was across the street from a beautiful river (he still lives here and it's still beautiful).
One day my brother, sister and I went swimming in the river. My Father and step-mother were both at work (yes, that's how it went ALL summer). I didn't have much experience swimming in rivers, so the current scared the hell out of me. We swam in pools and lakes in Oklahoma, not fast moving rivers.
Well, my brother saw that I was timid about being in the river and so he decided, as many brothers probably would, to scare the crap out of me by grabbing my legs and pullng me under. Time and time again.

I really was afraid for my life. And so I finally had enough and was beyond p***ed off at him .... I was furious. He pulled me under one last time and when I finally got out of his grasp and came up for air, I also came up with a river rock in my fist.
For the last 30+ years the story has been that I was skipping stones and accidentally hit him with one.

The truth is that I pretty much wanted to murder him before he could murder me. So when I came up out of the water that last time, I hurled that rock at him with all my might. And it struck him smack on the top of his head. Spot on. He came out of the water screaming and grabbing his head, which was bleeding quite profusely. I had, and still have, a pretty good aim.

He ended up at the hospital, getting several stitches .... which happened to form the shape of a peace symbol. He was quite proud of that peace symbol. I was secretly proud of that peace symbol.
So, yes, I intentionally threw a rock at my brother's head .... in order to keep him from drowning me.

And truth be told, if I had it to do all over again ..... I'd still hurl that rock at his head. I really thought I was going to drown!

So there you go, a story about me.
Before I had children.
WAY before I even thought I wanted A child, let alone six.

Thanks for all of the support, Peeps.
I feel blessed.
Happy Sunday.
:)



P.S. For all of you tennis fans out there who saw the men's final today ..... can you believe how STINKING cute Roger's twin daughters are???!!! And they look JUST LIKE him!!! Memories ..... I loved it.
:)