Light On

Dearest Daughter,

  I know you’re struggling mentally. Life isn’t easy, and it’s full of twists and turns, many of which you never see coming.  Friends are hard in the early years, and maintaining relationships is even harder.  I have been battling depression since after you were born, it’s not your fault, always remember that.  I know it’s hard, and somedays its all I have to get from one day to the next, and often times you never see that side.  I talk to dad about it when he gets home, I talk to him, have a conversation with him, and I’m real with him.  I hide nothing.  He’s my best friend in life and the person who can help me through so much. Someday you will have that special someone who you can talk to about it all.

  I know that talking to me is hard, sometimes its not easy, and you think I will judge you.  You don’t need to judgment, you need someone to listen to you, and to give you loving advice. Dad and I can be that person for you.  We have struggled through things in our lives just like you are experiencing now, but we have to leave the light on for each other.

  I was watching a movie the other day and the ending song said “If you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on.”  We have to leave the light on for each other.  I have to leave the light on so that you feel like you can talk to me at any time.  I will always listen.  You have to leave the light on and remain open to talking to me.  It’s like a door opening, if we leave the door open at all times, then the open communication is there.  I don’t want you talking to other moms unless you plan to tell me as well. They can’t help you like your own mom can, and I need and want to know what’s going on in your world.  I love you very much, and we have to be open with each other.  Know at the end of the day that you’ll still be dancing!


So to you I say “If you leave the light on, then I’ll leave the light on.”

"Light On" by Maggie Rogers

Would you believe me now
If I told you I got caught up in a wave?
Almost gave it away
Would you hear me out if I told you I was terrified for days?
Thought I was gonna break

Oh, I couldn't stop it
Tried to slow it all down
Crying in the bathroom
Had to figure it out
With everyone around me saying
You must be so happy now

Oh, if you keep reaching out
Then I'll keep coming back
And if you're gone for good
Then I'm okay with that
If you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

And I am finding out
There's just no other way
That I'm still dancing at the end of the day
If you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

And do you believe me now
That I always had the best intentions, babe?
Always wanted to stay
Can you feel me now
That I'm vulnerable in oh-so many ways?
Oh, and I'll never change

Oh, I couldn't stop it
Tried to figure it out
But everything kept moving
And the noise got too loud
With everyone around me saying
"You should be so happy now"

Oh, if you keep reaching out
Then I'll keep coming back
And if you're gone for good
Then I'm okay with that
And if you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

And I am finding out
There's just no other way
That I'm still dancing at the end of the day
If you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

Oh, leave the light on
Oh, would you leave the light on?

If you keep reaching out
Then I'll keep coming back
But if you're gone for good
Then I'm okay with that
If you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

And I am finding out
There's just no other way
That I'm still dancing at the end of the day
If you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on (Light on, light on, light on)

Oh, if you leave the light on
Then I'll leave the light on
Oh, if you leave the light on

18 Years Lt. Charles Joseph Margiotta

18 years ago the tragedy of 9/11 shook our very nation to its core. We saw a nation come together and help their neighbors and others they didn’t even know.  We hugged people we’d never met and offered them peace. We simply came together. What a shame that it takes tragedy to bring others together in a time of need. We should always be a good neighbor, a thoughtful stranger, a Good Samaritan, and a great friend.

Every year I honor a man, a hero, firefighter, brother, son, husband, and father.  I think of him often even though I’d never met him.  Back in 2006 I put myself down to honor a hero every year on 9/11 and I will continue to do so as long as I’m able.

Lt. Charles (Chuck) Margiotta ran into the twin towers not knowing if he’d ever see his family again. He was doing his job, the very job he had signed up for, and dedicated his life to.  He was a 20 year FDNY veteran. According to the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation he had a degree from Brown University and often spent his off time doubling as a stuntman in several films, one of those being Hannibal. He also spent his time being a private investigator, soccer coach, and a substitute teacher. When Chuck heard about the World Trade Center being hit, he hopped in his truck and raced to the nearest fire station on Staten Island.

What is a hero? According to Mirriam-Webster a hero is defined as a person admired for achievements and noble qualities and someone who shows great courage.  It takes great courage to be a First Responder.  He had noble qualities according to friends and family, but Chuck would never consider himself a hero.

This year I struggle to find the words to say about Chuck, many of the words I can say have already been spoken by his loved ones. I did vow to his brother, Mike, to learn something new about him every year.

To you Chuck, I raise my glass of Texas sweet tea and say thank you. Thank you for serving and giving your life for others so that they may live. Thank you for being selfless, caring, and funny.

If you’d like to read my first blog post about Lt. Margiotta you can do so here.
Last years post: Lt. Charles Margiotta
If you’d like to learn more about Chuck you may do so at his families memorial website, you may also donate to his scholarship fund there as well.

Until we meet Lt. Charles Margiotta I will leave you with this old Irish Blessing:
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

One Week and One Day

It’s been one week and one day since the tragic shooting in Odessa, Texas on Saturday, August 31, 2019. It’s been a week of many emotions and sadness for a community in which I once called home. When I met Colby back in 2007 he had just moved back to Odessa, I was still living with my parents in Greenwood.  Our love was strong and so I moved in with him in 2008. We started a family unit, Colby, myself, and my four year old daughter.  We lived many places within the city and found ourselves settled in a nice little apartment behind the mall.  We lived there for 5 years until we moved to a rental house only blocks away. We brought Stephen home to that little apartment we called home in 2011.

In December 2014 and January 2015, we had the great ice storm, which made many of us homebound, and without power. Broken tree limbs littered yards. Neighbors came together to offer assistance in whatever way possible. Our neighbors offered us a place to stay, freezers to store our food in, and a place to do our laundry. We got a generator so we wouldn’t have to vacate our home and worry about our precious belongings. It was enough to power the heater, the fridge and a few lights. We had gas, so we could still use our gas cook top to provide food for ourselves. Our neighbors were kind, helpful, and they loved on us. For a week a community came together to help their neighbors.

In March 2015, we moved to a whole new town, the crime was getting bad in Odessa and no matter which side of town you lived on, it wasn’t good. During the two years we lived in our rental house Colby’s truck was broken into twice and stolen once. That sealed the deal.  When we got the offer to move closer to Colby’s job, we took it. We have now lived in our new town for four and a half years.

Fast forward to August 31, 2019.  That morning I went to a clothing party for my friend, I bought some stuff, we took some pictures, and we just enjoyed ourselves. That afternoon a friend of ours came over and brought Colby some Ham radio things he found in a house they purchased a few months ago. We visited for a while and talked about life, kids, family, our spouses, and everything else under the sun. I came back in the house, tried to relax, but then the news alerts started happening.   Our friend was headed back to Odessa.

A gunman was on the loose in Odessa, driving around shooting innocent people and wreaking havoc and terror all over. He shot three law enforcement officers, killed seven people and wounded countless others. In the end he was also taken out.  Innocent people were out that day as there’s plenty of shopping to do there. People were in car dealerships, driving down the road, investigating gun shots, and delivering the mail.

We lost someone we knew.  He was someone that ran cameras at church when Colby and I attended a certain church in Odessa. He was a former math teacher and overall a great guy.  He and his family were driving to have some family portraits done when the gunman pulled up next to them and shot him in front of his family. Colby asked me “I wonder how his wife is feeling.” At that time my only response was “Lost. She feels lost.” Today as I’m washing dishes it hits me. She not only feels lost. She wonders how she’s going to raise their kids alone. She’s scared herself because they were all in the car together when he was shot. She worries about what the death of their dad will do to them over time and how it will affect them. She worries she’ll never find love like she had before, even though she’s not looking. She worries about their finances and if they’ll make it without the help of family and friends. She wonders if she should move somewhere else so that they don’t have to pass that ugly place when they go somewhere, and she’ll do everything in her power to take the long way around just so they don’t have to pass it. She wonders when the right time is to take her kids to counseling and herself. She worries she won’t stay strong for her kids. She just worries. She doesn’t know when to pick up the pieces and move on or if she should just leave the pieces on the floor until she’s ready. She’s also worried about the loneliness that is to come when all of the people that have filled their home for the last week finally leave. And she prays.

She prays that her kids know how much their dad loved them.  She prays that somehow they can find comfort and peace in this tragedy.  She prays for a community in which she lives and other victims families. She prays for understanding. She prays for the men and women of law enforcement and fire department for the things they had to witness that day. She just prays. She posts the day after about how everyone needs prayers, and she wants everyone to go to church. She is selfless. 

Last Tuesday we had to go to Midland for a Dr.’s appointment. I travelled down that very interstate where the shootings started. My heart was very heavy as I imagined the chaos and fear that those people experienced. I saw skid marks all over the place where people were trying to get off the roads. I saw pools of blood marked by orange paint, and the outlines of vehicles marked by the same paint. My heart hurts for those people. I didn’t have to go into that town, thankfully, but just imagining the chaos on the interstate was enough for me. Enough that each time I passed those orange markings, I cried out to God for those people to be ok. Yes, I could’ve taken a different route that would’ve taken me 30 minutes out of my way, to go and to get home, but I will not let fear overcome me. My God is greater than that fear.  I told Colby that while I love Odessa and all it has to offer, I’m not ready to go back there and drive those very streets.  My heart hurts for a community in which I was once a part of. 

I also saw my dad on Tuesday where he begged me not to drive home on the interstate, I assured him we would be ok. He hugged me tightly several times and we parted ways.  Hug your loved ones, tell them how much they mean to you, reconcile after a fight, tell them you love them, and never take for granted that they’ll be here tomorrow.  Keep the Permian Basin in your prayers. They will overcome this in time, but for now your prayers are greatly appreciated. Remember that behind every victim in a crime lies a family that is hurting. They need your prayers too.

#WestTexasStrong #BasinStrong

Missing You

I have discovered the love of Diamond Painting. If you're unsure of what this is, let me explain. You order either a custom or pre-printed design.  It's printed on canvas, with tiny little boxes that have a number, letter or symbol. Then a layer of sticky stuff. You peel back a little section of paper to reveal the sticky part, and then place little tiny squares, diamonds, onto the sticky stuff in their corresponding boxes.  Each symbol, letter, or number corresponds with a certain color of diamond. It's super time consuming but so much fun.

I completed my first one about a month ago, and it took me a while to do. A little at a time is all I really had time for.  At the time I ordered the downtown Houston skyline diamond painting, I also ordered a custom of our Cowgirl.  I used the first diamond painting to learn the do's and don'ts of this process.  I screwed up multiple times along the way, but now I know what not do to.

Downtown Houston skyline

So I finished the Houston skyline, and thought, man priorities.  You know, that stuff we call adulting. I set a goal for myself, get my bedroom in some kind of order and then start on the one of Cowgirl. So in an efficient manner I started on my bedroom, doing a section of my room a day.  It was more like spring cleaning in the summer time and deep cleaning at that.  I ordered things off of Amazon to help me complete my task.

Finally, I was finished with our bedroom after a week.  No, it wasn't that bad, I just didn't rush it and did a section at a time.  Our bedroom/bathroom/closet is bigger than our first apartment was 12 years ago, which was only 400 square feet.  "I finally did it" I thought to myself, and then realized that I could finally sit down and devote some time to the diamond painting of our precious Cowgirl.

The picture I sent in for the custom diamond
painting I'm currently working on. Our Cowgirl
on her first birthday. 

If you don't know her story, I posted about it last year.  She died last June at the age of 9.5.  She was our first dog as a couple, first family pet, first Blue Heeler, and first dog love.  She was loyal to a fault. She was a no nonsense kind of dog.  She was Stephen's protector and they had a close bond.  She was Colby's dog, but she loved us all.  She came down with mammary cancer a year prior to her passing.  The vet said that it would spread, but only time would tell, two weeks later it was back in full force and with a vengeance.  We opted not to put her through more surgeries, because the first one was really hard on her.  We knew her time was limited, but we made the best of it for her.  We gave her extra loves, we pampered her extra hard, and we loved her down to the very last breath. She started having trouble breathing, so on Wednesday I took her to the vet to see how much time she had left with us.  His outlook was not great, so we scheduled a date to end her suffering for that Friday. That would give us all time to say goodbye, and get our last minute loves and hugs in with her. The next day, Thursday, she decided it was time to go.

Cowgirl laid down in the living room floor and took her final breath and to Heaven she went.  It sucked, it was so hard, and we still mourn her passing today.  Those first days without them are the worst.  We'd cry ourselves to sleep, we'd wake up crying, and we'd cry all day long. We had her cremated and within a few long days she was back home with us where she belonged.  I think of her and mourn her daily.  Our lives are so incomplete without her. Those firsts were hard, her first birthday in heaven, our first Christmas without her, and that first anniversary of her death. She left behind two Red Heeler siblings, Sheriff Ringo, Ruby, and her best friend Rufus Kitty.

Today, as I'm working on my diamond painting of her, I rush.  I rush to get to her face because just to be able to see it and touch it would be amazing.  No, it's not the same, and I do sound a little crazy, but what I'd give to have one more day with her.  I didn't make it to her face, I only completed part of an ear before I had to stop.  My mind is tired, my body is exhausted, and I didn't want to spill any diamonds.  They are not fun to pick up and they go everywhere.

Cowgirl, I don't know how we ever lived without you in the beginning, and some days I don't know how we are living without you here now.  I saw a Cardinal playing in the water the other day, and I wondered if it was you coming to visit us.  I know your pain and suffering is gone, and I'm honestly happy about that, but I wish we could've healed you here on earth. Please keep watch over Daddy, I know he misses you, but he doesn't express it very well. Love you, be a good girl.

Today I Drive...A Crohnie Wife’s Adventure

When you love someone with Crohn’s it’s a driving force. Sometimes you’re their caretaker, other days you’re simply just their spouse, but today I drive.

Colby called me before I could finish my morning coffee “baby, come this way. Please come get me, I can’t stop puking, it’s bloody.” Ok, I’m coming. I bang on my daughters door to wake her up, and run off as I frantically search for my keys. I can’t find them, so I find his set to our Durango. She asks where I’m going and all I can say is “I have to go.” She knows somethings wrong, she can sense it in my voice and my actions. I quickly and safely go get gas. He sends me his location, I put it in my maps, and I drive.

I drive to a place I’ve never been. I drive over the speed limit, but not so fast I’ll get pulled over. I drive an unknown route. I drive down lease roads, having no clue where I’m going. I drive until I find him. I just drive.

What he doesn’t know is that he drives me. He drives me to be a better person, a better spouse, a better mom, and a good friend. 

I will drive for him today, tomorrow, and whenever he needs me to just drive. I’ll do it a hundred times just for him, because he is worth it. 

Crohn’s rears it’s ugly head when it seems inconvenient. There is no good timing for this disease, but today I chose not to be inconvenienced.  Today I saw it as an opportunity to help someone who needed me the most, who wanted me and called upon me to rescue him. I saw it as an adventure, because that’s exactly what this disease is.

This disease is always an adventure, it takes you down roads you’ve never been. It takes you places you never thought you’d go. And sometimes you just drive.

Tomorrow he drives back to where we left his truck, and I’ll drive back home, and I’ll await the next call when I just have to drive.