My mama

  My mama is my rock. Someone who isn’t even a 0.1 % replaceable. My mom is better than yours. There isn’t a point in arguing that with me because I have seen my mom go beyond measures to keep me alive.  Not even happy. Just alive and breathing. I have seen the fear and worry in her eyes as the light faded from my face but I never saw her step away from the roll she was destined to be. A mama.  I always worried if something happened to me how would he still be a mama to Aaron. And as I sit and think about that sentence in pure logic. That’s who she is. She was born to be a mama and nothing could take that away from her. She is a natural. Everyone is her child. I have seen her mother countless “strays” but always the same she gets attached and loves them and they love her back because they never had a mama like her. She’s kind. To a fault. Smart to the point where you have to take a Second look at her because you’re just amazed. Funny. She will make you laugh so hard that you cry. Just her being her. And I love when we have those moments. Those are the core memories where I step back and thank god. I thank god for giving me back to my mom whole and new. I thank god for giving her the strength to love me and raise me unconditionally and in my opinion to be a pretty rad human. That she’s my favorite person who I never seem to get tired of. When I lived in the hospital she made that drive and put a smile on her face everyday just to see me smile knowing so much was against us but that smile every day walking through the door gave me life and hope. I knew what I was facing but if my mom could walk in with that beautiful smile I knew we were okay. Her and I would get through this together side by side and like I hoped only made us stronger and closer. Maybe with some trauma but what’s a little trauma between family. So tonight I’m laying in bed thinking about my worst days and remembering the shining light who loved me through life and death. My mama. My mother. My mom. My best friend who’s my ride or die. To my mom; We made it together and you make me proud everyday. Stay sassy. Stay rageful. Stay amazing And you will always have the love of a daughter who thinks the world revolves around you. 

 Xoxoxo

Dear Aaron

Dear Aaron. 

Today is national sibling day. So it’s just another day to celebrate you. Not that I need another reason but I’ll take it. 

Aaron. Everyday you amaze me, you’re strong smart witty and have the most caring heart. You make me proud ever dang day…sometimes it’s frustrating how perfect you are but then I remember how lucky Iam to be on the receiving side of so much you do. Not because I ask but because it seems like your goal is to make my life special. And you succeed at it daily by just being you. being your sister makes me proud of the man you are. The husband you will be. 

I remember after my transplant how attentive you were and I kinda thought maybe after I got outta the woods things would change but you are still as attentive as ever. Making sure I’m doing my best and encouraging me every day.  Making sure I’m okay mentally and physically 

Being proud of you is nothing new. I always was proud to be your sister long before Cf came into the our world. But after you stepped up. Always watching me and on the background trying to find your place but the minute I called on you, you stepped up right to the front where I needed you and where our family needed you and i know that wasn’t an easy task to ask of a young man. 

So I celebrate you just a little extra today with joy in my heart to be your sister and for you to be my best friend. Not everyone has that luxury with their siblings so it’s something I cherish. Just like I cherish you. 

Aaron aka dragon. 

 Thank you

Happy birthday Dad

 Mike, 

Everyone should have a Mike in their life. And if you don’t have a Mike. I’m sorry. 

Mike is giving and kind to a fault. He loves almost everyone he meets and instantly becomes a dad to them if they need it or not. Full of honesty and good advice and laughs; Mikes down for a good conversation 

Mike likes to buy things. Anything and it 1 is good so is 4 or 5 or even 8. He always wears jeans and boots. He loves America and our flag. Mike is a patriot but not an obnoxious one. 

Mike supports me in everything I do or try to do. He is a cheerleader when others put me down or make me feel stupid. He gives the best hugs and wraps his arms all the way around you. Like a bear hug, but from Mike. Mike is generous to me and I’m always appreciative of the support and it means a lot when he steps in and I don’t have to stress. 

Mike likes to travel anywhere. He has a 5th wheel trailer but prefers to stay in hotels. Mike likes to sing to the radio and listen to his music way to loud and especially loves a good acoustic arrangement. And loves how music can change his mood from a good day to a bad day. 

Mike loves tea. Unsweetened black. With lots of ice and is always down for a Starbucks ride. Mike spits a lot but I have gotten use to it and the scent is a comforting reminder of him. 

My Mike is my dad. My hero and the one man who has been constant my entire life. Always provided for me and my family and never comes home without a smile. At my worst I looked to him for my strength and he always had encouraging words when I was down or tired. He still to this day is that voice in my ear saying you can do it, you’re capable. He listens to me sing in the truck not very good but never complains. It’s true a girls first love is her dad and that’s been true since the day I was born but our love has gotten stronger after so many years. Maybe it was cystic fibrosis and a bleak outcome that bonded our family the way it did and for that I will forever be grateful we stuck together and not divided. But the glue in this family is a strong man who loves his family every day and night. Through the good, bad and in between he still stands. That’s my dad 

 Love you Mike. Aka Dad happy 61st birthday 

Lizzy

 How do you write a tribute to someone you don’t know but at the same time walked the same path. 

Lizzy left an impression on me. Her style and the way she handled life. We didn’t have much interaction but she spoke to me in so many ways. She and I walked the same path thru cf and lung transplant and I had always admired the way she carried herself with attitude sass and spunkyness.  When we loose someone who has walked the same path a piece of us goes with them even tho I don’t think that’s what Lizzy would want but that’s our lives. We are all entwined together through our struggles and our triumphs. The ups and downs only draw us closer to our community and the ones we love. And boy was she loved by so many. When someone we adore and admire looses their light ours tends to burn a little less brighter knowing they are at peace and resting without the burden of being well, sick. Life is unfair at how god chooses his angels and when he calls them home. Although some say and many believe he has a purpose I doubt that sometimes. Why her.? Why now? What about everything she went through just to live 4 beautiful and glorious years but they were a struggle with so much pain and happiness mixed together. All I know is she went out on her own terms like a true warrior. She called the shots until her last breathe and that leaves me standing in awe of the woman we loved, Lizzy

Warrior

 A warriors death is what I strive for. Something leaving everyone in awe of the courage and strength you have. Having that moment where people stare and take their breath away at the way you handled your life and celebrate you for not what you could have been but the bad ass you are. And the way you walked away from a disease that’s taken many great warriors like you. Making transplant look like a fairy tale story knowing good and well there were so many ups and downs that you sometimes struggled to hold on the roller coaster that comes with a transplant. All while keeping people looking on wondering how she does it.  A warrior never lets on to the pains and struggles inside, the fights you battle silently and the tears you shed when no one is around. The life you could of had is a dream that occurs nightly and feels more like a nightmare. Waking up with your fists balled ready to fight in a moments notice. Gritting your teeth so much you wake up with headaches but nothing is as painful as that dream that replays night after night. I wasn’t made to be a warrior I was born a warrior and when you had the chance to shine you showed the world what you were deep down. A warrior. A warriors death is for me.