On Camp

This is an accolade to camp. As a child I attended summer camps for one or two weeks or a few days at a time over the summer, sometimes a few different camps during a summer break. Never for the entire summer as some kids especially in the east do. It was mostly a lovely experience, a part of a childhood where my parents sought to provide me with many varied experiences in life. Not extremely elaborate, but well rounded. Ballet, violin and piano lessons, little weekend family trips around our state, things like that. My dad was a pilot so there was also the opportunity to fly in little planes. We never had our own but he would take me up frequently and give me lessons.

My kids attended Young Life camp in Florida where we live. My girl loved it. It’s hard to tell if the boys did but they did receive fierce sunburns so at least they were out enjoying the water. That much we know.

In 2024 my daughter asked to go to camp. We had lost her brother in February and it was her request to go to a camp where no one knew her. I think our whole family was feeling a bit under the microscope in our small town where everyone seemed to know about our experience and we could not escape the well intentioned pitying gazes.

So as I do when my kids ask me for something that I feel will be positive for them, I being to search my rolodex brain. I landed on a camp that one of my highschool friends had worked at and were I had visited her once when camp was out of session. It is in Michigan where I grew up. The one where I visited her is apparently is the boys’ camp. However both the girls’ and boys’ are located on idyllic northern Michigan lakes. Think Trumpet of the Swan setting (although I believe that was Canada). So I searched the internet and found it. I inquired and signed her up for a two week session. We all flew up to Michigan and dropped her off. Now one of the beautiful things about this camp, which by the way is Hayo-Went-Ha, is that the campers are without phones or other techy devices for the entire session. They can write letters the old fashioned way and the parents can write letters as well. So…after dropping her my other kids and I and my dad went to stay at a nearby Airbnb for the time my daughter would be in camp. I thought she is either going to love this or hate this. There is no in between. I sat with bated breath until her first letter arrived. Mom, I LOVE it here. I have so many friends. We have a lake we jump in first thing in the morning. We are going on a 4 day canoe trip. I was so relieved. But I thought is this really my daughter, who sits in front of her mirror every morning before school doing her makeup for an hour, who spends four hours putting on and elaborately decorating her nails?

The two week session included the 4 day canoe trip in the upper peninsula of Michigan. This involves hiking while hoisting the canoes over hilly areas. This turned out to be a life changing experience for my daughter. After I picked her up she cried that night in culture shock with having her phone back and also missing her friends.

Not surprisingly she wanted to return the following summer (this past one). She talked her sister into it but her experience was opposite. Each child is an individual! In any event, my older daughter loved her second year at camp even more. This time she was there a month and this included 2 weeks canoeing and portaging in Ontario. We are talking super roughing it. No showers, wilderness campsites, even a medical evacuation of one of the campers (who turned out to be ok), eating packaged meals that you add water to. The whole shebang. She swam in beautiful freezing crystal clear lakes. She got eaten alive with mosquitoes. She laughed. She cried. She pushed herself. Now I didn’t mention that in December of 2024 we had lost another of her brothers to suicide. So this camp session and wilderness trip for my daughter was life saving. Honestly. It was what she needed to cope, to grieve, to distract, to escape, to feel alive, to move forward.

So guess what? I just signed her up for a third year and this is going to be the coup de grace. The campers at her age go to Alaska for 3 weeks for kayaking and hiking. It is going to be an amazing experience and I am so glad the other years have prepared her. I have never done anything like what she has done and I know it is making her so strong, so confident.

And that is my raving review on camp and this on in particular. It is not cheap but in terms of what you are going to spend your money on toward your kids (and you know you are going to spend a lot!) it is so well worth it!

Book Report

I am listening to a Reese Witherspoon book, Broken Country by Clare Leslie Hall. I just happened upon it because it was well rated. I have been surprised and delighted by how much it resonates with me.

As a mom who lost two of my children in one year I really identify with the loss the main character is experiencing and expressing over the loss of her young son.

At one point she describes how it feels to share this shocking news with a stranger. The description (paraphrased) is perfect: stumbling to help comfort them as they confront the awkwardness of your grief.

Later she laments how the townspeople don’t want to talk about her son and it feels like everyone wants to forget or as if he never existed.

One of my sons was a high school senior when he died. His fellow students were wonderful about reaching out and still keep in touch and we share in a very real way. The school was another story. They did everything to see it his tragic death by suicide under the rug, refusing (and finally relenting the following year) to grant him a posthumous diploma, forbidding he be referenced or acknowledged openly at graduation, refusing to allow me to purchase a plaque with his name (on a wall where such plaques are displayed), and refusing to allow a nonprofit to sponsor an athletic event aimed at mental health awareness.

I often discuss my sons in passing. Just like I talk about my living children I will say, oh, Q really liked to play video games or SK loved to dribble his basketball. I feel those around me clam up because I think they are not sure if I am crazy or just not sure in general. But I don’t want to forget them. It terrifies me to think they may be erased from memory and existence.

I think you will enjoy this book and if you’ve experienced a loss especially as a mom I think you will find it particularly insightful and healing in the way that someone who gets you can provide.

On Loss

It is so hard always having to ignore or pretend that I have only 3 children when I have….had? 5. The questions from people about my children are dreaded and embarrassing. Sometimes I answer vaguely, dishonestly. Not wanting to admit my two oldest children are not here on earth anymore. Sometimes I just say they are older, not at home anymore, leave the listener to surmise they are away at college somewhere. How do you interject that into the everyday banter? I think of the words, paraphrased, of a book I am reading where a character has experienced similar loss. You dread, you expect, you anticipate, to rush to fill in the void that involves comforting the recipient of the information, covering over the awkwardness of the depth of your grief as they are at a loss for words.

On Teens … Again

I have discovered that when you have teenagers your time with them mostly surrounds their activities. I am super grateful that I get lots of entertainment from my kids. I get to alternately watch soccer, cheer (along with football and basketball going on in the background) and equestrian.

These activities also dictate a lot of our travel and I love the opportunity to travel all together but more often than not one on one with one of my teens.

We don’t always share much verbal communication on these jaunts but the physical presence is there, the opportunity for conversations big or small.

Is it expensive? Yes. For sure. Especially as a solo parent much of the time. But so worth it.

On Suicide Prevention

Reader advisory: This post contains information on suicide which could be upsetting to some.

There is much out there on suicide prevention and awareness. But can we prevent suicide?

I speak from personal experience, having lost two of my five children to suicide.

Myth: Those who attempt suicide will first speak about their intentions.

Truth: The common thought seems to be that people who intend do use suicide as an option speak about it before. This not always true.

Myth: Those who have suicidal ideation will show signs (popularly discussed are giving away items, losing interest in previously enjoyed activities, or other major changes in routine).

Truth: Sometimes suicide occurs out of the blue without these signs. Someone can seem fine and happy and then they are lost to the world.

Myth: Only people with heavy depression decide to die by suicide.

Truth: Depression is only one factor for suicidal tendency. The reasons are as varied as the people who choose this option. During the Depression and the World Trade Center fires on 9/11 many jumped to their deaths because they felt (and were) trapped, whether physically or financially. Sometimes the pressures of life are too much. Solutions cannot be seen. The light at the end of the tunnel is too faint.

Myth: We can figure out with reasonable thinking strategies why someone has died by suicide.

Truth: Absolutely not. Suicide is by its nature an irrational act that has no reason or explanation. That is not to say that there were not factors that would reasonably lead to such action (financial, family, loss, or other situation that seems impossible to get past) but in the end suicide is not a rational act. While it may help us who are left behind to have an explanation that seems to fit, we will really never know the answers or completely understand.

Myth: We can prevent someone from dying by suicide. The neat little formula that I feel was taught in school and probably still is is that if someone expresses any of the model signs of having suicidal thoughts, we can speak with them and rescue them from this path and everyone lives happily ever after.

Truth: Like most things in life, this way of thinking is too simplistic. It does not take into account the myriad reasons someone might be considering ending his or her life. Sometimes the root causes of suicide can be caught and addressed with medication and of course by making the means more difficult to access. However, if someone is truly bent on this course of action it will probably happen inevitably. The is a dark thought I know but it seems to be true so there is no point in ignoring it.

So what can we do then if we encounter someone who appears to be suicidal? This will of course vary from scenario to scenario but in simple terms, we can just be there. We can be that person who helps in that moment, maybe it is with a kind word, a meal, a hug, a financial contribution, a listening ear. I also like to encourage my teenage children to (1) always have something to look forward to and (2) learn that every problem has a solution no matter how big the problem may seem.

That was a dark subject but I think it is important to face reality and not have the egotistical thought process and understanding that we have the power to change the course of someone else’s life. We only have that power with regard to our own.

Peace, love and blessings.

Abuse Continues Generationally Unless Intentionally Addressed

When I was divorcing my husband of 20 years after finally realizing that my kids and I could not go on enduring the financial hardship and psychological abuse that he had wrought, I reached out to his family who I had known since I was in my mid 20s to let them know that I would like to remain amicable and on good terms since they were the aunts and uncles of my five children Unfortunately no one responded.

Seven years later we would lose two of those children to suicide. Following the Mass for my second son in January of this year, one of the brothers purposefully approached me at the church though I was studiously avoiding everyone and just trying to keep myself together, standing next to my best friend and my father, eyes cast down to close out my surroundings. I had lost my sister in July of that year and my first son in February of that year. It has been a year of loss and tragedy, and I was not interested in dealing with my ex-husband’s family at the funeral for a second time. When I had enters the church they had been poised in a large semicircle, all 13 of them with their children as well, staring me down. I had kept my head down and avoided eye contact.

Nevertheless, he approached me, put his arm around me. He is a large man and there was no shirking away. He said said “whatever we can do here for you months later while at my daughter‘s cheer competition in A location hundreds of miles from my home I reflected on his offer and being in the mindset to take help where it was offered, though it is not typically my nature I sent him a what I believed was a respectfully worded email recollecting his offer and listing three opportunities For him to assist my children. I believed these were reasonable and moderate requests. I was shocked when he responded with a vindictive attacking email accusing me of abandoning my marriage for no reason and irresponsibly involving my kids who I was trying to help me healthy and happy in the week of their brother‘s loss in expensive competitive travel sports. The email is attached with reductions of names.

My request
My request p. 2
His response
His response p. 2
His response p. 3
Response p. 4
Response p. 5
Response p. 6
Response p. 7

This was the first time I realized that the narcissistic tendencies of my former husband had come from the stream that ran downhill from their father and perhaps further down the line. My former husband had told me that his father long deceased used to beat his daughters physically including punching them in the head.

When you leave a situation that involves abuse and narcissism, it is hardly ever without lasting repercussions. You begin to realize that that situation was not created spontaneously.

It made me realize that I need to be intentional with my children to help them be good people respect, respectful of others and not follow abusive tendencies, and narcissistic traits. The challenges that when you have lived 22 years within narcissist and are forced to “coparent” with them for another eight years, it can rub off on you making you take on their tendencies and characteristics as a defense mechanism in conversations and communications with them, as well as sometimes with others it is something that must purposefully be observed, and attended to.

An Airline Comparison

I recently flew Southwest for the very first time. My friends have loved it for years. It’s just that I’m usually a Delta girl. Occasionally however it does not go nonstop (which I also prefer) where I am going.

This recent trip happened to be one between Florida and Michigan and the original flight was on Spirit (which I despise but offers nonstop flights between my destinations). Spirit is a tricky budget airline. So after having chosen the flight for its specific civilized departure and arrival times, also important to me at my age, they then changed the departure and arrival times dramatically to something I would never have chosen. This left us arriving at 11 p.m. to face an astronomical line to pick up a rental car (which had been reserved priority but there was no one to process the priority people, only a line a mile long). The departure time, however, 6:00 a.m., was not going to work for me. So I was “forced” to purchase a one way flight at a more decent hour. It happened to be on Southwest. It was not a nonstop but it was remarkably smooth. Here is my raving review:

The first thing I noticed is how professional the airport gate staff were. They spoke with none of the snarkiness that the Allegiant (another budget carrier) staff use when talking to their passengers like a bunch of toddlers. I find this super disrespectful. Southwest was factual and efficient.

The choose your own seat was something I was curious about seeing how it would work. They have you line up by group number (broken down by 10’s) so for example, 60-70 stand here, 70-80 the next place. There are signs and you stand next to the group within which your specific number fits. So each passenger has one number. It was all very logical and everyone cooperated. Group A boards first, then B, then C, and each has its number grouping within. Once on the plane I was rather surprised that so many up front seats were empty. I guess because most people prefer aisle or window and many of these were middle. Personally I’d rather be up front for easy deplaning and I’m small enough that the middle does not bother me. On one leg the middle seat was empty and my fellow row passenger had plenty of room to spread out.

The next great thing I noticed is that they serve drinks much more sensibly by taking your order and bringing you your drink on a tray, like in a restaurant. No big huge cart creating a blocked pathway. Also while a lot of other airlines cancel their beverage service due to “turbulence” (aka laziness) the Southwest staff served as we bounced along merrily in the sky toward our destination. No excuses. That was refreshing. I’m also pretty sure wine is free, or at least mine was. Oh and they have these tasty little pretzels.

So my first Southwest experience was quite a joy compared to other budget travel. I’m looking forward to my next Southwest flight!

On Teenage Life

I love love love this teenage stage. You might think I’m crazy but it’s true. I love to see my teens having found their passions. One soccer, one cheerleading, and one equestrian. No more fighting with them to get ready and lost equipment and jerseys when we were in the state where mom signs you all up for soccer or dance. No more complaints: “Mooom, do we haaaave to go?” Now they are organized about their schedule and keep their uniforms and equipment in order. All I have to do is drive! Not even that for my oldest. I just show up and they provide me entertainment every night! Two nights of equestrian, two of football (soon to be basketball) and cheering and a soccer game every now and then!

The thing with teenagers is you cannot expect them to converse with you unless they want to. I love when they are just sitting there playing their computer games or watching their show. Sometimes everyone is just on their phones. But when we are in the same room we are together!

If I really want to interact with my teens I have two “carrots”. They love to go out to eat (especially sushi). And they love to travel. So any opportunity we get for these I take it/provide it. Of course if they want to have their friends that’s even better. The more the merrier. If I said no which I would never because I love their friends they would just choose to go with their friends.

I remember what it was like to be that age and I am grateful my kids give me more time and togetherness and sharing than I did with my parents.

Sometimes they stay in their rooms a lot but having one centrally located tv and gaming computer is a trick of the trade to make sure they can be in the same vicinity as you.

Driving them around, or letting them drive if they are trainees, and always welcoming their friends, are also sure fire ways to connect.

Snack plates prepared for after school!

A New Place

My family used to live in Denver. I went to school there and all my kids were born there. All of a sudden my husband at the time because discontent and was always complaining and wanting to move to Florida. We had a very close community in Denver as my kids had grown up there. I held out for years. One year my husband purchased a house in a small town in southwest Florida. All 7 of us drove down and moved in and lived on air mattresses with our clothes in milk crates for 6 months while he renovated the house. That was a nightmare that is a story for another time, or post. Upon returning to Denver, where our house there had been rented out, after putting things to right and giving it a deep clean, our Denver life resumed. We were so happy to be with our community again and they were happy to see us again. However, that community grew a little too much. First, my sister came to live with us, which was fine because she had lived with us before and we had a 7 bedroom house. She passed away last summer and I’m glad my kids had that close time with her. I had also signed on to host an exchange student so she arrived as well, filing up another of the basement bedrooms. My family was stationed in 3 upstairs bedrooms, the boys sharing one room and the girls another. Then finally a couple came to stay with us! What was too much was that I was still the only one doing any of the cooking, cleaning and child care. So basically I was caring for not just my 5 children but an additional group of 5 adults! I was beyond exhausted. I think it lowered my will power and was a factor in me finally breaking down and agreeing to leave my beloved home and move to Florida. In Florida we were all squished into a 3 bedroom apartment so at least there was no room for anyone else to move in. However, that too became old, and that too is a story for another time.

The Relief You Feel

I divorced in 2018 after a 20 year marriage. Within the year my former husband introduced our children (ages 13, 11, 9, 7 and 6 at the time) to another woman. This woman would become a fixture in our lives for the next 7 years, causing great destruction.

When she first came on the scene I sent her a notecard letting her know I’d like to meet her as I understood she was spending time with my kids. I invited her to lunch, my treat. No response.

I learned from my young children that ***’s husband had died by suicide shortly before she was dating my former husband officially. This introduced my children to the notion of suicide, a subject they gad not previously had exposure to.

She showed up at every sporting event of my kids, went over to talk with the coaches as if she were the mom. She actually told people she Was the mom. I know because my friend told me.

At every turn, she expressed her opinions as to our children’s interests and these were considered more worthy than mine. Together they made fun of me in their home in front of my children. She was defended by my children’s father at every step of the way. I was made out to be the bad guy.

Our parenting agreement had a clause that neither of us would cohabitate with another during our parenting time.

But the following year my former husband wanted to move in with his girlfriend and did so despite the clause. A local magistrate approved his unilateral altering of our agreement. From that time I knew that his word was no good.

Things really exacerbated when my oldest son went to live with his dad at girlfriend’s house. She lives in a gated community and put me, a lawyer of 20 years, on the red alert. Every time I needed to pick up or drop off my kids I was given an interrogation by the guards. One guard asked if I had robbed a bank or something. They had never seen anything like it before. Some days if girlfriend was not home to answer the guardhouse we had to turn back. Many times my kids were late to practices if they were missing an item of their gear they had inadvertently left at dad’s.

When my oldest son lived there dad and girlfriend locked it down even tighter. I barely saw my son for three years of his highschool because it was so difficult to gain entrance. He felt uncomfortable going against their wishes to see his Mom.

Things went on like this for years. She attended every sporting and church event, seeking to influence every situation to her advantage. I was made to feel like the outsider. If they had the kids on Christmas or Easter and attended Mass, I was not allowed to sit with or near them. The kids were discouraged from having contact with me at such times and my heart would break as it seemed so distant. They felt they could never give more than a sheepish wave while kicking their toe in the dirt for fear of offending *** which always came at a cost. At my son’s Confirmation during the shutdown in 2020 he was hustled out directly by his father before I could even hug or congratulate him.

During this time my oldest son had gotten involved in drugs. No one bothered to inform me. One time on a rare occasion I got to see him I let his dad know I observed he had Visine drops and asked if he thought he was using any drugs. No no no was the answer. How could I think such a thing.

In his senior year his dad kicked him out summarily after girlfriend drug tested him. He came back to me, far into the drug world. I worked hard to help him, was researching programs to help him, some at the cost of $35,000 per month, willing to do anything to help him. Things got worse. He went to jail for a time. But still I worked with him. He had an acceptance to a local very good 4 year college. We got into the orientation last minute and finally he had hope. We got him registered, he was doing it. But one day after meeting with the addiction counseling person Laurie at Lighthouse, a condition of his parole, I found him dead with a shot to his head in his bed at home. It had been a normal morning. He had left for his 7:30 lab at school, we talked just before his meeting. It seemed to come out of the blue.

To underscore the gravity of the years of insult and oppression, one moment stands out. In the middle of my deep grief, rather than follow the funeral director’s plans, the girlfriend sat in my seat at the funeral, up front with my kids and their dad. I sat behind them all.

That was in February of the longest year of my life. My other four kids and I were moving forward, honoring the memory of their brother, seeking help through resources. We had a cruise planned over Christmas break.

Six days before we were to disembark my second son, also out of the blue, a great student, athlete, with friends, died by suicide, using his father’s gun.

His father and girlfriend had left for a trip before he went missing that day. They were largely unavailable and uncooperative in the search, poopooing my concerns just as local police had. They continued on toward their destination so girlfriend could run her race.

Oddly, his dad knew ahead of time, while our son was still missing, where police would find him later that terrible night.

A hearing was held on the last day of the year, seeking to ensure that there would be no firearms at either residence where our kids were. I agreed. Dad agreed. The girlfriend, whose house where my kids spent their time with dad, insisted on keeping her loaded weapons in the house. Based on constitutional and procedural factors, the judge refused to limit the parenting time and for 9 months I lived in fear when my kids would have to go to this woman’s home, knowing by her own testimony she insisted on keeping loaded weapons in her home and refusing to alter her conduct even given the extreme and unusual circumstances of 3 people out of her household dying by gun violence.

I am not sure if that was the impetus for the breakup. Or maybe she felt she had caused sufficient damage to my family, continually slandering me and my business every chance she could get all along the way as well. But in any event, 7 years of trauma to my family later, finally we can be without this noxious influence.

Last weekend was homecoming and my former husband joined us as we took pictures of the girls. It was so simple, so pleasant, so non confrontational and peaceful compared to all the events she had insisted on attending through the years, ruining every one with her manipulations, making my own children afraid to talk to or be with me, her pouting, scowling face letting them know they would catch it from dad if they gravitated too much toward Mom.

Now my kids can be free to have a relationship with their father unmarred by this controlling influence. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief that she is out of the picture. If only it could have happened sooner and my boys had not been victims of adult immaturity and control.