SRKindredSpirits

Today, my son, Wyatt is 14 years old! Wyatt is a special needs kid . He has multiple learning disabilities and is on the spectrum. He can only read and write at a 2nd grade level. He tries very hard , but still has a difficult time understanding and fitting into this world. He is however, the sweetest kid you'll ever meet! Wyatt had brain surgery in 2017 where his skull was removed for 5 weeks. He has been through lots of testing and struggles in life. He has had 4 surgeries, speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, and audio therapy, and more... Wyatt has always had a unique relationship with his Grandpa Frick ( owner of Frick Sales ).... when he was little he'd call him 'junk grandpa'! His favorite place in the whole world was to go to Grandpa Fricks. He'd wander through the junk yard and would find treasures that he'd talk about to anyone who'd listen.... his favorite was his Grandpa's little B6000 Kubota. My dad had purchased/traded

"Through a sea of Spanish moss in a forest just north of the firehouse on Stable Road is an amphitheater. More than 40 years ago, its 2,000 seats were filled with residents and tourists watching popular musicals as wood storks soared overhead and stars lit the stage." - Tess Malone Our family's favorite winter vacation spot is Jekyll Island Georgia! When you live in Indiana and its been a cold winter with 7* F temps... walking along the beach in 75* F  sunshine feels absolutely wonderful! Anyway.... we have been going to the Island for 5 years now, but we just discovered the amphitheater this year! It is a beautiful spot for this rust loving, abandoned spirit searching, nature loving, soul and I can't wait to visit it again on our next trip. The true history of the amphitheater is slowly being forgotten. This once popular and family-friendly island attraction most definitely deserves its rightfully owned place in history, a memory that slowly fades with time passing b

My Dads funeral was on a cold winter day.  The actual funeral service really didn't mean much to me. It seemed the preachers just talked about random stuff ( like sexual assault and how we shouldn't be cremated -it was weird). My mom made it very clear which kids she wanted with her and those of us that were not welcome....  Anyway, it was probably the weirdest funeral I've ever been too, and I've been to alot! (My ex husband and I used to manage a Cemetary and help at the funeral home, so I do know a bit about funerals.) But, when we got to the graveside, the most beautiful, big snowflakes were falling all around us. The little country Cemetary was covered in a white, fluffy, blanket of snow.. it felt like God made it perfect just for me!  The graveside service and story about my Dad, ment more to me than any other thing that was said during the funeral.  The following poem was read by my Dad's long time customer and preacher friend, at the graveside service.     T

I absolutely hate the visitation line at viewings and funerals. No matter which side of the line I'm on. I hate standing there next to a deceased loved one for hours at a time. The loved one is gone, its just an empty shell (if you know anything at all about embalming/autopsies, you know that the body has been so mangled, glued, wired, sewn, painted, etc, its really not the same person at all.) I hate trying to come up with small talk with people, or trying to comfort them when I can’t even comfort myself. I hate having to endure people I barely know trying to “solve” my grief, as if some saying or cliché can take away the pain. I hate the awkward things people say, like, "oh, doesn't he/she look so good!" Excuse me. You don't look good when you're dead.... you just don't. (This is one of the reasons that I will not have a veiwing, an open casket, or a traditional funeral when its my time to go.) And most of all, I hate the cheap casket-side theology that

I was by my Dad's beside when he died today.... Someone had said, that we should have prayed to God for a miracle so that my Dad would be healed completely here on earth..... But after talking with my sister about it... the way that I see it, my Dad's death was a miracle. It was a miracle that he lived for five months after his diagnosis, without standard treatment. It was a miracle that he was in his right mind up until the day that he died. It was a miracle that we had five good long months to talk with him, to be together, and to learn things about his life and spend time with him.  Dad and I just understood each other so much more... we just let the past go andade so many good memories.... just like the following song.  https://youtu.be/DTFbGcnl0po It was a miracle that he was pain-free the majority of the time.. It was a miricle that he was only in pain at the end. That he didn't have to suffer long. It was a miracle that we were able to be by his bedside when he passe

Our oldest daughter moved out this month.... it really wasn't a surprise, I knew it was coming, and although I wanted her to wait for another few more months, I think deep down, I knew it was time. She is 19, has a full-time job at a busy Vet hospital, is enrolled in college, currently working towards a graphic design degree. She graduated school 2 years early, is a hard worker, a good employee, and managed to save a good sized nest egg. She has always paid for her own phone, insurance, and paid cash for her car, - and she did it all on her own.... she never got an allowance and we didn't spoil her with money or things. She worked hard to get where she is..... I'm proud of her.... And although I think I knew it was time she spread her own wings.... I had a tangled up mess of emotions. Somedays I would cry over everything. Somedays I was sad.... it was almost like all my dreams and plans that she and I had for years had died and were being buried. Sometimes I was angry..

My dad was diagnosed as having Glioblastoma in September 2020. It is the fastest growing brain tumor there is.  Its hard to watch the dad I knew get weaker and weaker, but at the same time it has given us time to be together, time to talk, time to laugh, time to cry together, and time just to be.  He has told me more about his childhood, his teen years, his work, his marriage, church issues, and life decisions than I never dreamed of knowing. We have talked about our past relationship (or lack of it), our reasoning at the time, and what we wish we'd have done different. We have talked about Heaven and God and the Bible. We have talked about my cancer, my kids, my marriage, my life, and about dying.  We have shared secrets, some may be told after he's gone, but most of them I'll keep to myself and hold close to my heart....  We have our own little jokes about mom or my siblings or just people in general! Dad has a great sense of humor through all this and he makes me laugh!