The hardest thing

A long time ago I wrote a blog about regrets. Specifically the regrets that I was facing, after looking back over my life. Looking at how my kids turned out, how my marriage turned out. There were so many things I would have changed. So many things I would have NOT said. So many things I would have done differently, if only I knew what pain it would hold for me in the future.

But, life is full of hard things. We all know that to be true.  Being a parent of small children is hard. Time consuming and filled with so many different activities. Like you're being pulled 17 ways at once, and expected to do it all with a smile and a happy song! But, as a parent of adult (over 29) children, our lives are filled with different challenges. It's whole new world, worse than teenagers! 

So, I'm gonna get straight to the point on this one.

The hardest thing about being a parent of adults is having to see your child make the same mistakes you did. Watching them with their children. Hearing their harsh words. Seeing the faces of my grandchildren as they sit there and take what they consider, and call "cruelty". 

Today, at lunch, I heard the words "It's amazing how cruel  parents can be." Now, I didn't hear those words from an adult. I heard them from a child.

I was angry. Yes, angry, at MY child, who is now an adult, raising kids. Angry that, even though I have begged her not to make the same mistakes I did, she is following in my footsteps. I hear myself, my 25-years-ago-self. The angry, hurt self that I once was. The impatient, yelling, hurtful me. I hear that mom saying and doing the very things that I did. 

Is this some sort of sick punishment, being allowed to see yourself from a different angle? It's like watching a replay of your life from the narrators point of view. Not the 3rd person objective view, who can only state facts. The narrators view, he who knows what the character in the play is feeling and thinking. I sit there and I watch and listen. And my heart just breaks for my grandchild. I want to make it stop, I want to close my eyes and ears, because it hurts so much to see and hear yourself.

Oh, if could only go back and do things over! If I could go back and do parenting again, knowing what I know now, I would be so much kinder. I would hug more, I wouldn't play favorites. I wouldn't punish my child for their feelings.Yeah, their feelings.

Right now I am at a loss for what to do or say. Probably the best thing to do is to remember that, child or grandchild, they both have feelings that they don't know how to express, issues that they are trying to deal with. So me being angry at my daughter, thinking she should know better because she is an adult, is wrong. What she needs is a hug and a nap, and to know that even though I feel she is wrong, she is still loved, which brings me to a whole other issue. But I'll save that one for later!!

He Loves Me

He said, "You have no right to ever expect your father to love you. You should never expect that from him. It's not gonna happen. I told my daughter the same thing, that she needs to quit expecting love from me."

These words came from the mouth of my oldest brother. Other than that, I have no idea where these words came from and why he felt I needed to hear them.

My family and I were invited over to one of my brother's house, not for dinner, but just to come over. Considering my relationship with that brother at the time, I was pretty thrilled at the invitation. Little did I know that it really was a set-up of the worst kind. My father and step-mother were there. My oldest brother, who lived in Alaska at the time, was there with his wife. The 6 of them sitting around the table talking, except when I walked in the room. Then it became silent.

I thought it was kind of strange, and strained at the same time. Not a welcoming feeling at all. No one got up to give the customary hugs at all. My 3 teenagers went into the back of the house to see their cousins, as I sat at the dining room table with the rest of the family. Not really sure how the conversation started, but my oldest brother, Tom, seemed to be in control of the event. He was a marriage and family counselor and at that time I had a lot of respect for him. I once even told him, after hearing him preach, that mom would have been proud of him. His sarcastic response was, "Really? You really think that? I don't think so." I was a little perplexed. But, I didn't know him very well, since he was 20 years older than me.

I guess the subject of their conversation was something about the strained relationship I had with all of them. Strained for some VERY good reasons, which I will not go into. But strained is a fair assessment of it.

When these words came out of his mouth, I remember feeling stunned and confused. Never in my life had I heard of such a proposterous idea. A father NOT loving his child? And a daughter having no right to EXPECT him to do so? It blew me away. Like a punch in the chest. I was speechless. This went against everything I was ever taught, against every belief I was brought up with. Still, to this day, I am confused when I think about it. It angers me, it hurts me, and it forever changes the way I look at family.
I always heard that "blood was thicker than water", that "family should come first". After all, that's what I was teaching my children. That when everyone else fails you, your family will always love you unconditionally. That family will always be there for you and be on your side. I taught them that the relationships they had with each other were the most important ones, because you only have these brothers and sisters. If you can't be friends with them, then it will bring heartache for years to come. It's not like with friends. Friends come and go, and you just constantly get new ones, you  recycle a few too.
But family! That's forever!

So, why did I bring this up? Because last night I heard the most incredible thing. I heard these words...

"Your relationship with God, the father, is not based on how much you love Him. Because you can love Him with your whole heart and soul. But if you don't believe that He loves you back, then it's pointless. Your relationship with God, the father, is based on how much HE LOVES YOU. You must gain a true understanding of just how much God loves you. He loves you so much that He gave up his one and only son to die instead of you."

Okay, I have 2 sons and a daughter and there is NO WAY, no matter how I feel about you that I'm gonna offer my kid to die for something you did! Oh sure, I love you and all but HECK NO! It ain't gonna happen.

But the bible is full of scriptures that tell us how God feels about us. And some day I'm gonna do a study on that and make a list to refer back to. I'm reminded of a song by "Jesus Culture" called "He loves us"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoC1ec-lYps&feature=colike

I will admit that I have based my belief of God's love for me on the example I had set before me from my earthly father. Not the greatest example of love. And after the "intervention" I was pretty disillusioned about love. And I was pretty sure that I was unloveable. After all, if your daddy doesn't love you, and your brothers want nothing to do with you, and your step-mother thinks you are the root of all evil and all the problems in the family....then how could God love you?

BUT GOD has his ways of getting his message through to me. That he loves me SO much that he did the toughest thing imagineable.

(to be continued)

Black Bean Salad/Salsa

Black Bean Salsa

Many people have asked me for this recipe, so here it is!
High protein, low fat, healthy, tasty, full of fiber, addicting salsa.

2 15oz cans of Black beans, rinsed and drained

2 ears of corn, cook and cut off cob

1 yellow or white onion, finely chopped
1 red onion, finely chopped
1 green and 1 red bell peppers, finely chopped

3 cloves of garlic, minced

3 jalapeno's, seeded and finely chopped

1 bunch of cilantro, finely chop leaves, no stems

6 Roma tomatoes, seeded and finely chopped

6 Tbsp of fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)

1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

2 Tbsp Olive oil

1 Tbsp cayenne pepper

Salt and pepper to taste

1 Avocado (optional)

Place all items, except avocado, in a large bowl, as it makes a fairly large quantity. Refrigerate over night. Can be served at room temperature. If you use avocado, the day you plan on serving it, cut into small cubes and gently stir in, being careful not to mash the avocado. Do not add the night before. It will turn brown.

Suggestions:

Serve with tortilla chips as a salsa.
Serve as a topping for your tacos (really yummy)



You may want to use latex gloves when seeding and chopping the jalapeno's. They BURN for hours afterward!! You can use frozen corn if you wish, but be sure to thaw and drain first.



Life and death

(Disclaimer: This is about a real-life situation that took place just a few weeks ago. My emotions are still a little raw. My anger, a little close to the surface. So, please bear that in mind as you read this.)

Tonight was his last night here on earth. We don't know why. We are asking that question over and over. WHY?

Who's fault is it? His? His wife's? Was it just "life"? What pushes a man to put a gun to his head?
Some would say it's the cowards way out. It's not really fair. It leaves so many unanswered questions and so many messed up people in it's wake. After all, he doesn't have to deal with any of the crap now. His wife is left with all the chaos, and the emotions. The anger, disappointment, hurt, fear.
I don't necessarily agree with the coward aspect of it, though. After all, it takes guts to pull  trigger. It takes guts to be able to kill yourself. Dying, it's a scary thing.

But, does anyone ever think about what happens afterwards?

Once, a long time ago, I considered suicide. Life was really hard and I didn't want to deal with any of it anymore. I thought it out, planned it, mulled it over a little in my head, trying to picture what would happen afterwards.
I pictured my husband. I thought he might be sad, maybe. Then again, he might have been glad to finally put an end to the long-standing argument. You know, the argument that is never resolved because emotions take over and it ends up with slamming doors and lots of tears. So he might be feeling a little sense of relief. Or maybe he might feel guilt. After all, he would be the reason for my suicide. Maybe he would finally feel bad. Maybe he would be sorry, again.
Then I thought about my children. Could I really do that to them? Was I the type of mother that could knowingly put my children through the hell of their mother killing herself? Could I leave them wondering if there was something they could have done differently? Maybe if they hadn't disobeyed? Or maybe they should have come home on time? No, I'm not that kind of person. It's just that my personal pain was bad, so bad that I  thought the only way to end it was to end my life. Well, sure, that ends the pain for me, but it only begins the pain for everyone else.

As I look at the current situation, I am hit with the realization that all suicide does is make everything worse. It doesn't fix anything at all! I sit on the porch and I watch my friend trying to pick up the pieces of what's left of her life. In shock over the suddenness of it, the sight of it; after all, unless you have wandered into the wilderness like an old Eskimo, someone is going to find you. The panic as your loved one desperately tries to revive you, only to realize that it's not gonna happen. The screams, the tears, the mess.

Now what? Calls to police, family, friends. So many questions, no answers. More questions, still no answers.

I wonder.....if you could know the horrible hell that your family would go through, if you could see their faces, hear their cries and feel their pain, would you still go through with it? Is that what you really want to have happen?
I believe, that if he could have seen the things that have transpired in the 2 weeks since his death, he would say, "That's not what I intended. I was trying to protect her. I never meant to hurt her and the kids." He believed that death was the only way out. There was no other option at all. Now, unfortunately, there is no one to protect her and the kids from the pain he inflicted on them. No one to hold them as they cry in the middle of the night. No one to answer all the questions.

Obviously, I have left out so much. This is supposed to be a somewhat uplifting kind of blog. But life has been handing out some difficult things lately and I'm certain that time will heal all wounds. There will still be scars for sure! But, eventually, everyone will stand and walk again. The sun will still shine above the dark, ominous clouds known as grief. The tears will flow with less intensity. We will never forget, but it will no longer be in the forefront of our minds. Jobs and responsibilities will beckon us away from our thoughts and memories of him. Until someday, it will be just a faint memory for some; a painful memory for others. And unfortunately...

Life will go on.

Update: She eventually remarried. To the police officer assigned to the case. She is still in a state of marital bliss months later. Proof that Life Goes On.

Standing

Okay, I realize that very few people are gonna read this. But I really helps me to deal with life when I write.

Every day is like a frickin' roller coaster. I never know from one minute to the next what's gonna happen. Job, husband, kids, home. Today, in my morning rant I said that my options for today go something like this. Work in my home office or clean my house. That's it! There are no other options for a caregiver when the person you are caring for is too weak to do anything. And lately the weakness and exhaustion has become so bad to the point of having to be on oxygen all the time. But it's not helping. This "watching and waiting" thing is really frustrating. Heart breaking and frustrating. I go back and forth between sadness and anger, then mixed with a little hope. Then my husband says something like "I sure do appreciate you" and I end up in tears. I don't want to be angry but I'm assuming that it's just part of the process that we have to go through. I think it makes him feel bad when I cry. And he cries with me sometimes. I will say that this whole ordeal has brought us closer together, which is a good thing. I'm glad to know that my marriage is strong enough to endure the "sickness" and "poorer"part of the vows.

When I met him, and married him, he was the picture of health. Tall, strong, muscular. I believed that we would grow old together, and after the kids were grown we would enjoy the active senior life. Travel! Fun! Friends! Huh! Not! Oh, we did for a while. Lots of travel. As a matter of fact, we traveled for the entire month of November! Then November 30th came. I guess we overdid? The only places we go now are church, and the doctors. Woo-hoo! Not real exciting.

But our love for each other is strong. We have
weathered so many storms together and come
out better for it. We have seen our share of up's
and down's, triumph's and failure's. We have
survived being married to each other. 3 kids,
4 grandkids, 32 years of marriage, richer,
poorer, sickness, health, faithfulness and
unfaithfulness. We have seen it all. And
we are still standing. Well I'm sitting and
he's resting in his chair, but you know what I mean.

Mom

May 2, 2012. My mother would have been 90 years old today.
Mom was a very complex person. Shy, quiet, moody. I think I'm a lot like her. At least that's what my father used to say. "You're just like your mother"
It's kind of a good thing.

On good days my mom would color with me in my coloring book. She would make me lunches that looked like clown faces. Peaches with raisins for the eyes. Carrot curls for the hair. She would make me chocolate milkshakes when I was sick.

She could crochet and knit and embroider. She could draw. She could write poems. She could sew. She could cook an amazing pot roast. She taught me to love reading and writing. Her mother was a poet; as were several of her cousins. Very artistic people. She could decorate a Christmas tree like no one else. She was incredibly creative and she used to let me make messes as we would make angels out of Readers Digest's; spray painted gold with the edges folded up. Lots of glitter and styrofoam!!

But not all the days were good. She was very unhappy. Depressed, sick. Physically and mentally. Daddy was away a lot. My siblings remember fighting. Lots of it. I don't remember that. I don't remember a lot of things. I don't really remember her being there sometimes. It's strange. I have memories of being taken to stay with other people but never knowing why.

I'm pretty sure she loved us kids. Although I never remember her saying it. She was not an affectionate person. Hugging was not something she did. Comforting was not her strong point. Teaching a lesson was. If there was a lesson to be learned from our punishment, she made sure we understood. I'm gonna place the blame on her upbringing. She got it from her mother who was the "mother" of all....nevermind. She was raised by a cruel, uncaring mother; a strong-willed woman with an uncanny ablility to make everyones life a little more miserable.  

But, in spite of all the things she was and wasn't, she was still my mother. And even though she has been gone over 31 years, I still miss her terribly. I still cry. I still hurt. She left...just when I needed her most.

The Stroke

November 30, 2011: Woke up a little late. Kind of nice to be allowed to sleep in. What I didn't know is why I was allowed to sleep in. Rolled out of bed and looked down the hallway, waving at my husband before slipping in to the bathroom. Took my time in there, slowly waking up and enjoying the quiet. Came out of the bathroom and asked my husband where my coffee was. I didn't really get much of a response out of him, except for "I don't feel so good". So I asked him what was wrong. He merely pointed at his phone and said "I can't do it". That was strange. Since when can he not use his iPhone. It's a permanent attachment to his hand! He just kept telling me that he had a headache and was seeing lights. So I'm thinking migraine. No biggie! He had several of them in the past month, so it was nothing new. But what concerned me was that he couldn't get his words out. He wasn't making any sense. I knew right away what was happening. He was having a stroke. So I asked him to look at me and smile. No facial paralysis. But he still couldn't communicate very well.
So, you might say, "Take him to the hospital!!" Well, I thought about that, but we didn't have any insurance. This was gonna be real expensive, especially if it's just a migraine. But the longer I heard him and watched him, the more I knew this was serious. So I told him that, if we had insurance, I would have called an ambulance by now. That was the clincher. Time to go.
The following is a collection of my facebook posts from day 1 until I got too tired to keep track anymore.

      'Okay, so it's been a long day. Marc is resting, I'm supposed to be getting some sleep. I don't think that's gonna happen. The diagnosis is not a pretty one. A dissected carotid artery. Completely blocked with a blood clot. Evidently the inside of your blood vessel has layers "like a tortilla". Evidently one of the layers tore away, forming a flap that caused blood to stop flowing to the brain, causing a clot, causing a mild stroke. Thank GOD it was only a MILD stroke. The good part is, two other people stroked out on the same morning so the hospital ER was full of Neurologists! So Marc was seen immediately upon arrival. Other than a bad headache and confusion ( he still doesn't know what month it is or how old he is) and he forgets what happened and keeps asking. But he sure feels LOVED! Thank you for all the prayers and the calls and texts. He is not completely out of danger, but he is is GOD'S hands. And I'd rather be in GOD's hand any day!'



     Day 2: The day started with Marc looking pretty tired and weak. His head hurt, but he was better than yesterday. After noon he got pain meds which knocked him out! He slept about 3 hours and woke up feeling great. His words were flowing freely like there was nothing wrong. His visit with Pastor Tim was wonderful and he loved it! After dinner, though, his headache returned and with that great confusion. To the point where he was unable to make even a simple sentence. Hard to see him be this way, and I know it's frustrating to him to not be able to communicate. So the lesson for today was: Marc needs to rest. So I'm hoping tonight he gets LOTS of good sleep so his brain can heal.





     Day 3: started out okay. Wonderful visitors, sponge bath, walking unassisted. However, lunchtime proved to be a little challenging. Evidently when Marc sat on the edge of the bed his heart rate increased to compensate, setting off alarms. Soon after my precious husband was unable to communicate with us. It was frightening for all of us. Long story short, no further damage, but looks like a small piece of the clot broke off. Causing the disruption in his ability to speak. But it was only temporary, thank god! Please continue to pray that the clot would dissolve and that the artery would heal. Thank you for your kind words and prayers.



     Day 4: Marc is doing much better today. They are moving him out of icu tomorrow. Still no word as to what they are going to do with the large clot. Hoping to hear something.


     Day 4 part 2: just when I thought it was safe to sleep the hospital called. Please pray for Marc as he just had another piece of the clot break off causing problems again.
(needless to say, they did not move him out of ICU)


During this time I was too insane to post anything. The doctor came in Sunday morning and told us that they were gonna send him home because there was nothing more they could do for him there. Are you frickin' kidding me? My daughter, who was with me, said "That's NOT gonna work!!" I asked the doctor what I should do if he had another stroke when he got home. He said....don't bring him back in because there is nothing we can do. The feeling I experienced and the visuals going through my head were NOT cool.


     Dec 7th: As I sit by Marc's bedside holding his hand while he sleeps he wakes up and catches me crying. He says to me ,"I'm not done yet. It's not time for me to go". It does all come down to whose report will we believe. The doctors report tonight was not a pleasant one but she was honest and frank, which I appreciated. I am thankful for faith-filled friends and family that believe for me when I am weakened by a long day. Love you all. Pray for my children.



     Day 8: there has been an improvement in Marc's condition. His speech has improved and the nurses and doctors have been able to stabilize his blood pressure. Other than a slight headache and being really tired he is having very few symptoms. He is not allowed to get out of bed. So 8 days in bed is taking it's toll on his tolerance level. He wants to get up and get moving but that's not gonna happen for a while. They don't even let him sit on the edge of the bed and dangle his legs as his blood pressure drops too much. BUT, it is definitely better than a few days ago. Healing is taking place!!!


     Day 11: Marc is still in ICU. He slept off and on for the last 2 days thanks to the combination of drugs he is on. The docs are trying to get the right combination and levels that ensures blood flow to the left half of his brain. FYI: 10 days on Dopamine is bad. His heart rate and BP were not liking it. So he is down to thinners and meds to keep him going. He had an "event" last night that knocked out his speech. It's called "expressive aphasia" (look it up) and it's frustrating for him because he can't tell you what's happening or how he feels. He has SO much to say and can't find the words he wants. The doc came in and answered lots of questions for us. (Hardest answer: Yes, he will have a major event at some time. No, we can't do anything about it) SO, we need a miracle. 99% of patients can benefit from all the procedures and drugs that help. Marc is the 1% that nothing can help. GOD specializes in 1% cases. So, we put him in the hands of the Master Physician and we wait.


     Day something or other: Marc has been taken off all IV drugs as an experiment to see if his body/blood pressure will self adjust. Despite a few events (speech, facial, hand, arm, leg numbness, which did subside) his body has maintained a satisfactory blood pressure. IF he can keep it in a high enough range he MIGHT get to go to a regular room by Monday or Tuesday. Woo-hoo. But, he is having withdrawals now with severe headaches that they are treating, so it's looking up from the bottom right now. My biggest concern, and his, is the events that he is having that are a little un-nerving, to say the least. Frustrated and scared seems to be the mood. Yet, we continue to hope in God.


He came home a few days later.

Upheaval

My heart aches today as I reflect on life and death. I'm tired of this thing called cancer. It has taken my mother, my father and is in the process of taking a much loved cousin.
My first recollection of cancer was a man in our church. I remember he had a gray look to him. And everyone was always praying and believing that he would be healed. He wasn't. I've only known one person to be healed from cancer. He used alternative medicine and it worked. But his cancer was caught early. So it was much easier to cure. In the case of my mother and cousin, the cancer was there for years before it was detected by the doctors. I blame the doctors. I blame them for not doing the right tests. For not listening and not believing the complaints of vague pain. I blame them for all of it.
My feelings on death have always been considered harsh and cold. I believe "Life goes on. Get over it" You can't stop death. It's a fact of life. So why should I spend years grieving? They are gone. Okay. Life goes on and I have things to do. Life does not stop so we can grieve and heal. We have to get up and keep going whether we like it or not.
I think I adopted that attitude after my mother died. Life went on. My father moved on with his life so quickly (a little too quickly) and re-married 12 weeks later. I was crushed by that. All I could think of was "you didn't love mom, if you had, you would not do this". To me, it was the ultimate disrespect! I was disgusted and sickened by the whole idea of him being with a younger woman. I hated him for that. And I hated his new wife. She came in and tried to be a mother to me. HA! Like I was just going to forget my mother and start calling her mom? NEVER in a million years, and still not to this day. When my father died she remarried within 9 weeks. WTH?!
Don't people have any sense of respect and decency? Have they no regard for the dead?
Okay. I realise they are gone and the spouse is legally free to remarry. But really, 12 weeks? After 32 years of marriage, did that mean nothing?

On the other hand......

My brother-in-law died a week before Christmas 25 years ago. His birthday was the day after mine. So my frustration was that every christmas and every birthday my husband was depressed because of the memory of his dead brother. Call me selfish, but I would get angry because there was no celebration of christmas or my birthday! What about loving the ones that are living?? Life goes on! Get over it!

So...on the 31st anniversary of my mothers death, I spent the majority of the day crying. I miss her. I thought it was supposed to get easier over time. But it seems like the older I get the more I miss her. I'm sure it's because I have another family member dying of the same thing that has brought all these feelings to the surface.
Or maybe life moved on too fast, and I didn't give myself time to grieve and heal.

Too short

Sleep is not something that comes easy these days. It seems that as soon as I lay my head on my pillow, my mind starts racing wildly. I get some of the best ideas at night, in the dark. Unfortunately, by morning they are gone.

But there is one thing that seems to never leave my thoughts. How short life is. 

Being a caregiver (AKA wife) to my husband has been a real interesting ride. Not one I would have ever chosen. But one that has been chosen for me. Not a day goes by when we are not faced with some "issue". We call them episodes. As if they were part of some long TV series and, everyday, we get to see a little bit more. And it just continues to unfold, bringing surprises and let-downs. These episodes are virtually the same every day. Wake up with a headache, sometimes mild, other times quite painful. That's how we determine if it's gonna be a good day or not. The oxygen is supposed to be helping to aleviate the headaches. And it does, if he keeps it on.

We had a discussion one day that went like this.
Him: "What's more important? Blood flow to the brain or oxygen?"
Me: "Both"
Him: "But without blood flow I would die."
Me: "True. But without oxygen in the blood, you will die."
Him: "But if theres no blood flow to carry the oxygen then it's useless."
Me: "You're right." (since his blood flow is severely restricted on the left half of his brain, the right half is trying to compensate. It's not doing such a good job.)
After much discussion back and forth, we came to the conclusion that both are equally important. So keep the oxygen ON!!

This morning was no different. No headache, but I forgot to mention the dizziness and the blood pressure drops. So, when he stands up, or leans forward, or bends over, or walks, he has dizziness. Everyones' blood pressure changes when you stand up, but when you don't have blood flow to the brain already, then it's a bit intensified. The dizziness is quickly followed by the feeling of blacking out. So, its like "hang on to the nearest thing" or sit back down. Oh, and then there are the seizures. And the "ping" headaches (the sensation that someone just smashed the side of his head with a hammer followed by dizziness). And the exhaustion. And the confusion. And the speech issues. And the memory loss. (last night we watched a movie that we love, but for him it was the first time all over again.) And the impulsive behavior. The list goes on. Everyday is different, yet the same. Everyday is a blessing and a curse. Everyday is too short.

I live with the knowledge that, at any time, he could be gone. Every night I am faced with the reality that he might not wake up, or he might wake up and not be able to communicate or be paralyzed. So, every night I think about whether I would have any regrets about that day. I try to make sure that there is nothing left unsaid. We talk often about our fears and our hopes. We don't deny them or try to hide them behind the facade of being strong. Matter of fact, we don't even pretend that we are strong. But yet, we do not dwell on them either. We acknowledge them and then we live the day the best we can.

It's hard to watch the person you love the most be in a seemingly hopeless situation; to watch the deterioration happen right before your eyes.  But....God gives us strength and comfort every day. He gives us hope.

Someone once said, "Do your loving while they're living." I totally agree. Live your life so there are no regrets. Say your "I love you"s. Say the "I'm sorry"s. Appreciate every little thing they do. Because you never know what today or tomorrow holds.