Leave No Child Inside
Just another beautiful day!
Thursday, August 25, 2016
The random keys. Junk drawer.
One second at a time. A widows exspeience
The door bell rings and wakes me. I sit on the bed for a second; are the kids up? Is 'dad' home? Yeah he's here, I think? I would of gotten a text right? What time is it? Ok, moving towards door and yawning, taking the stairs easy. It's dark. I see through the window police lights. Police? I look through the peep hole and confirm it's a man in uniform. Wait, I know him. I say "just a minute" and unlock the top of the door and open it. Now squinting at the light of the porch. He begins to speak. I try to think of his name...last name, last name? Wait. What? It's my husbands supervisor and standing back is another two officers I know well. He can tell I'm not listening. Where is my husband, why didn't he answer the door? He begins again. I say "No!".
He shakes his head as if he doesn't even believe what he's saying. And I yell "No!" Again.
He put his hand up, his eyes close, he bites his lips and and comes towards me. I attempt another "No" but it's inaudible, my raised hand is clinched and he hugs me as I both hit his chest and barley stand with the weight of the realization of why they are here.
As additional people arrive, they've helped with a small bag of things. Someone takes my cell phone and makes some calls. I neither remember telling them who to call, or what I was wearing. Or if I dressed at all. Someone hands me shoes. What time is it? Someone offers to stay with the kids.
I'm driven to the hospital. Before I know it, or how, I'm there. In a scene of blurry faces, white hallways and incoherent voices I'm lead to his room. He's hooked up to tubes, monitors and wires.
I'm still holding his hand and as they tell me it's time. The time. The time of death. Tick. And although the beep has stopped, I still feel it, I still hear it. Tick. Just one second at a time is all I can face next. Tick.
I can't comprehend what's just happened. I'm still holding his hand and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. Tick. Facing anything after this is impossible to imagine. So I'm just going to stay here now. Breathe. Tick.
Just take it one second at a time. Breathe. Tick. They need me to let go of his hand. Breathe. Another second. Sign a paper. Tick. Breathe. Tick. Tears. Tick.
I became more functional, I could plan in blocks of an hour. Just take one hour at a time. Tick. Pack up a couple of his things. Tick. Tick. I have kids. I had to function for them. Just take it one day at a time. Tick. They'd have to go back to school. Tick. Just take it one week at a time. Tick. Every news cast of another officer killed brings a flood of emotions back. Tick.
Everything we would do from now on would be different. Tick. Would be without him. First holidays. Just take it one month at a time. Tick. First birthdays. Tick. And then there was his death date. We had made a year. Just take it one year at a time. It literally felt like we were surviving sometimes. It never gets easy. Tick. If I allowed it I could easily fall apart at any given moment if I thought about it. Tick. For my loss, for my kids loss and for his parents loss. For his loss. Every time I experience something with our kids, I sense his loss. Tick. Tears. Just take it one second at a time.
*a special thanks to the women who shared their experiences of loss, for which I based this on. It was hard enough to write and I am fortunate not to know this kind of loss. However, the pain, emotion and grief pulsed through me as I tried to recreate a compilation of some of their experiences. No experience is the same. My thoughts are with them and their families.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Journaling journey
Here it is. I dug up all my journals - 34 in all, two I'm currently working on and including two "originals" with locks and everything. If you're counting there is 6X8.5 inch booklets with a hundred to two hundred pages each, I typically only write on one side of the page...not front and back. With an average of 125 words on a page, that's a whopping 400,000+ words of wisdoms. Or something like that. Ha ha ha.
They began in 1989 where I roughly wrote 8 pages of "Dear Diary, nothing happened. Love Kathy"... then I erased 23 pencil written pages with an eraser! Whatever it was, only two to three hand written lines on the page, I was committed to it being gone! I begin again and 1990 with another random 8 pages about a fight with a friend, a trip to my dad's house, then I don't return until March of 1991 when I'm in the sixth grade and had my first kiss, I also happen to mention the Desert Storm and Iraqi War. But in case something happens to all the history books and the internet, don't count on my diary's to rewrite history or anything. Ha ha ha. Then I'm MIA until 1994 when looking back on what I had wrote 5 years ago, I quote "I knew nothing back then!" I tell myself. I'm sure you can hear the laughter from my closet now.
I can't wait to read more. I don't know if I'm happy I wrote it down...because I obviously forgot it all and may be that was a good thing. Among my journals were roughly eight books I had half started since my teens. As a child I wrote, illustrated and finished three books; one about babysitting, one about having my own band and the last one was about a romance.
The only 3 I liked out of the 8 I started later in life were all as well, all fiction and all very different. One as a romance novel, one is a thriller and the other is a comedy. I sure am eclectic! Motivated yes, creative yes, focused...I struggle with that. Once I have an idea the door opens and everything comes out at once. Hence the reason for half started books laying around. I have since determined to finish my last three favorite and most promising books. So stay tuned!
Monday, June 6, 2016
The Dancer - Poem by Kathy Worrell
The Dancer
She waits behind the curtain
Just before she takes the stage
Anticipation and anxiety
Consume her tiny frame
Tightly fitted ballet shoes
And her hair in a bun
Her costume is timeless
The skirt is waiting to be spun
Finally it's her turn
It's the cue to begin
One foot takes the stage
And she twirls like the wind
By Kathy Worrell
8-23-07
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Dear NCL Management - About Our cruise to Hawaii??
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
DIY: Home Made Moving Announcement and House Warming Party
Thursday, February 27, 2014
DIY: How to Stretch Leather Boots to fit your calves
This is an optional way, a very easy way: you can do it yourself and stretch your boots. (I bought these beautiful boots at Victoria Secret in size 7.5 and unfortunately they did not list calf size, but it is hard to find boots with big, yet not clunky fitting calves if your not a size 2, and especially in the smaller sizes of shoes.) Now these are leather boots, and I have not had this "stretching" experience with other kinds of boot materials. Although, I should note that materials that make up boots and shoes Gap/Target do seem to stretch pretty easily when worn. Meaning I can wear them in pretty easily. So if you try this with your boots that are not leather, or double lined like these, carefully observe each day to see that it is going the way you want.
This shows you how far up the zipper got before I stretched them. Again not sure what size they are, I might guess 14 or 16 inches. And then I might say my calf is 18...again if this didn't work as well as it did, I might have been forced to measure and take better notice. And you are welcome to do that with yours.
This is a regular kids 8 1/2 inch playground ball. I happen to have two around. I deflated them and inserted them in down to where the zipper. You could use a basketball, soccer ball, volley ball or anything that is bigger than your boot, your trying to stretch. You will also need a bike or ball pump with a ball needle. I show both here, but obviously it was easier to use the bike pump./
Here I show the balls inserted in the boots. These boots are double lined leather and have a heavy metal zipper, I was almost scared when I opened them because I didn't think anything would stretch them. And I didn't want to buy an ugly extender, and I did not want to mess with the integrity of the look of these. And by searching the internet, from frozen overnight to extenders, I did not find anything that I felt comfortable with.
This is both of them, just showing how it looked and how I left them for about a week. I kept checking them to make sure that the seems were secure, that the zipper was fine, that the color and the textures were not compromised.
This is how you let the air out. If you are not familiar with air pumps and needles, etc. I let the air out and then removed the balls and below is what the boots looked like after the stretching. As you can see they do not look stretched and the seems are all fine. If they don't fit right away, you can always put them back in. I intended on pumping in air every other day, like two pumps. But I didn't get a chance to, and then ended up just fine. Its hard to tell but this is my leg in the boots!! They both fit of course, but I just had to show you them zipped all the way up. I didn't have to do any weird freezing thing and risk getting wet, besides who had room in their freezer for these boots? And I don't have to ruin these boots with a funky extender or weird alteration. I wish you luck and hope this helps you. Again be careful and enjoy!




