Betsy's Burritos

WE had Betsy’s Burritos last night for dinner. They were delicious.

You won’t find a recipe for Betsy’s Burritos unless you ask Betsy herself.

Betsy Burritos were made for my family by my dear friend Betsy during the week right after my step-dad passed away.

We had many wonderful meals prepared for us by compassionate friends during this week of pain and sorrow and all were very special to us, but my kids absolute favorite was “Betsy’s Burritos.”

Later, they were to become a favorite of all of ours because of the love that went into them.

Shortly after my dad died, Princess was in a terrible accident, breaking her wrist and losing the sight in her left eye. As soon as we discovered her blindness we rushed Princess to a specialist named Dr. Diana Reeves.

Her advice was to treat the eye aggressively in hopes that some of her sight would come back, although the out look was not good. “You have nothing to lose at this point.” she informed us.

Treating the eye aggressively involved injecting the wounded eye with a steroid. Princess had to be awake and alert.

Five stinging drops preceded the injection, one at a time to numb, sterilize and prepare the eye.

Dr. Reeves was patient. She explained each step to a very distraught and sobbing 6 year old.
She did not force us to restrain Princess while she did the procedure, she simply explained and waited until Princess complied with each step. Carl held and soothed her and I promised her a vast span of treats and presents, even at one time promising to purchase Princess a pony.
Princess slowly allow each step.
What should have taken 10 minutes took 2 hours. Finally the whole horrid procedure was over. We gathered Princess to us, thanked the Dr and went out into the fading light of the evening.

“Princess,” I said trying to make my strained voice sound cheerful although inside I was weeping. “Do you want a hamburger for dinner.” “ No’ she said between sobs.
“Ice cream?, chicken nuggets,? anything you want honey,” I tried again.
“I“, sob, sob, “want” sob, “Betsy’s Burritos.” she stated
Betsy’s burritos? I thought, I remembered receiving the compassionated meal during our sorrow week but my emotions were so overwhelming, I don’t remember tasting anything. I couldn’t have told you what was in Betsy’s Burritos, and I was too distraught to call her.

The ride home was awful. I drove, Carl sat by Princess in the back seat rubbing her head. She eventually fell into an exhausted restless slumber sagging against him, with occasional sobby hiccups. I could see the strain on my husband’s face, I could tell this experience aged him the 20 years it had aged me. Our baby’s raw fear, hopeless case, pain, every inch of is was written in the creases of worry on his face. The tears I stuffed down during the procedure erupted in a torrent of sobs from my soul spilling over and soaking my shirt.
When we got home, we put Princess in front of a movie in our room and I went to work making Betsy’s burritos. My dad was there and so was my mom both as devastated as we were, especially since Princess refused to see them, too embarrassed of the patch the Dr had put on her eye.
They went home, my mom to a home without her husband and my dad to his caring wife.
The most amazing thing happened, after Princess rested and ate Betsy’s Burritos ( or my poor rendition of them) Princess was up singing and dancing like nothing ever happened. Carl and I sank to the couch in exhausted relief.

The next day I call my dear friend Betsy and told her about Princess’s request for her burritos. She was surprised stating there was really nothing very special about them. I disagreed. My daughter loved them, they were delivered during our time of need with love and compassion. They were very special to us. Later that day she delivered a bag of them, each individually wrapped, and frozen. “incase you need them again you can take them out as you need.’ My heart was so moved. She told me how she makes them and now when I have moments when I need some comfort food, I whip up Betsy’s burritos and remember the love my friend put into them for us.

Today and Angel

I got Angel's address today, I opened up this blog page because I needed the support for sharing my experience with you incase things went badly. I don't know what I expected.

I long to restore the relationship but I am at a complete lost as to how to do that or even if it is the right thing to do.

Yesterday I tried to call to get the address, I was going to say, "Daughter, it's Mom, I need your address to send you some things. Qot.qot.qot. then I was going to say I love you daughter and hang up. I couldn't find her number.

I found it and though; "I will just say, Angel, it's meI need your address so that I can send you all this information that people have been sending us. What last name do you go by. Oh and by the way...I love you." Her cricket phone was off.

Today I again pick up the phone to call her, not feeling the longing or the loving that I felt yesterday, but I called never the less with no plan on what to say.

She answered on the third ring. "Angel," I said, "I need your address to send you some stuff. Qot Qot, Qot. "Angel, I love you" I said and hung up.

I think I included all the important words into the conversation.
That is the step today. We shall see what the step tomorrow is.

Mother of Four?

Am I still a mom of four, when one so willingly walked out of our lives and acts as if we never existed?

To her, it is as if we are dead or that the last eight years of her life were but a moment. She acts as though Princess and Sonshine were just mere acquaintances instead of a brother and sister who adored her. We are going on 6 months since they have heard from or seen her and yet there is not one day that passes that they don't pray for her or talk about her. We refuse to erase her from our lives the way she has so easily erased us from hers.


How does a person do that? Is there anything inside the body shell she walks around in? A heart, a brain, a nerve? What went wrong?


In a competition, we are equal, her biological mom and I. I may even have a bit more. Lisa had Angel for the first 6 years of her life, then Angel live with my dad and his wife, (her bio grandma) for 6 months. She was then returned to Lisa for a couple months before being placed back into foster care for a year. From foster care she came to live with us and has lived with us from age 10 until she walk out on us 97 days before she turned 18 years old. 8 years she was in our home, 8 years she was our beloved daughter ( still is our daughter) EIGHT years.

I win.

I wish it was a competition.

I haven't won. My daughter rejects us, tried to destroy us and I don't even know where to begin to restore our estranged relationship. Now she will have a child, my grandchild, I may never see or hold and that right there BREAKS MY HEART.


Am I still a mother of 4?

A toast to my future Grandbaby

8-18-09

I may never get to kiss your sweet, soft, innocent face. I may never get to hold your soft little body in my arms or pray over you with my hands gently resting on your head. I may never get to rock you to sleep, calm your fears with my hugs, or sooth your discomforts with my kisses. I may never get to show you my love.
But know this for certain.....I love you with all my heart!!








But there is always PERHAPS

Papa

Thank You God for the joy Jim brought into our lives. Thank you for the memories, the lessons, the love and the food. Thank You God for allowing us the time with Jim.

Jim was one of those people who made a huge impact on a person in a very short time of knowing him. It seems that we did not get enough time with him, that there was still so much to do, to learn, to share. Now that he is gone it feels as if we only had such a short, short time to get to know him even though he had been in our lives for 20 years. We love you Jim, your passing is still a raw pain in our lives. You are one of the greatest things that has ever happened to us.

Start them Young

My Coffee girl.

I heard coffee being made this morning at 6am. The aroma was almost enough to drag me out of bed...., almost. I fell back into a deep sleep for about 10 minutes when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Princess, my 6 year old is standing beside me. "I made you coffee mommy, do you want me to bring you some?" "oh honey, thank you, I am going to sleep a little longer before I get up, but it sure smells good." 10 lovely sleepy minutes later, tap, tap, tap, "are you ready now mommy?" "Almost," I say groggly, " just a little more sleep okay?" 10 minutes later, tap, tap, tap. "Mom, I am afraid it will get cold. I can just bring you some in a cup. "

"You know what sweety, I think I will just get up."

SHE LOVES ME!!!!

July 28, 2009

She wants to have a baby, yet she couldn't even treasure the family God gave her. Instead she tried to destroy what we had worked so very hard to unite.

We opened our lives opened our family, threw open wide the door to our hearts. We did not take her in as a guest or a stranger but rather a full fledged member of our family, OUR DAUGHTER. No matter what she did, we forgave and pulled her back into our embrace.

I miss the kid who drank coffee with me. I miss the kid who would eat the left over raw veggies that I set aside. I miss the kid that Princess and Sonshine adored, the one who adored them.
Dear GOD, I miss her.

It was God's will we took her in, I know that with every fiber of my being. I am confused how we ended up here but I know that we did the right thing.


That which Christ ties with HIS golden bond can not be easily broken--- bent, frayed, burned and bruised but not truly broken.