Happy Thanksgiving!!

I want to wish all my wonderful blog readers a very Happy Thanksgiving. I know that I haven't been very good at blogging lately. And I feel bad about that. Lately I feel like I don't have much to say, and it's all basically the same boring stuff anyway.

But I wanted to take a moment to let you all know that I am very thankful for all the wonderful readers and comments that you all leave for me. It really lifts me up and gives me the encouragement I need to push through these difficult times.

Enjoy your turkey day and stuff yourselves!!!

Love,
Jaime

It's Here!!! It's Finally Here!!!!

OME!!!!!! Oh My Edward it's finally here!!!! At this time tomorrow evening I will be in the middle of watching New Moon. I am so excited, I feel like a crazy teenager. I am a Twilight Mom for sure!! And now Samantha is really into too. She however is Team Jacob. I bet you all know what team I am on.

I am so excited!!

Until next time,

Jaime

Veteran's Day: My Grandpa

My mom wrote a speech that she read at her school's Veteran's Day assembly. It tells the story of my Grandpa Cecil's experience of being a prisoner of war during WWII. I want to post it here because this part of my family's history is so important to me. Just remember it was written for elementary kids so it is a simple version, but I don't want to change it. (I am changing it a little bit so that it reads as if I am telling it about my Grandpa. Sorry Mom, I hope that's okay)

My Grandpa, Cecil Cunningham, joined the Army Air Corps in October of 1940. In those days the Air Force and Army were one branch of the military call the Army Air Corps. He was 22 years old and earned $21 a month. After basic training, he went to Albuquerque, New Mexico. He was a driver for his base commander, Col. Hackett. It was here that Grandpa made a decision that would change his life. Col. Hackett asked Grandpa if he would like to stay in New Mexico and continue to be his driver when his outfit shipped out. But Grandpa, a man of strong character, choose to be loyal to his unit and ship out to an unknown destination.

He was sent on an Army transport ship to the Philippine islands in the Pacific Ocean. He arrived in the Philippines in November of 1941 and on December 7 the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and the war with Japan began. Eventually, the Japanese captured the Philippines and my Grandpa became a prisoner of war.

He was sent to a prisoner of war camp in the Philippines where he worked in a machine shop and in the rice fields planting rice for 10-12 hours a day. The prisoners were fed two times a day...mainly small amounts of rice. Sometimes they were given fish head soup with weeds. The men used a small can to collect insects, snakes, weeds...anything they could find to add protein to their diet.

After 2 1/2 years he was sent on a ship to Japan. (obviously this was one of the infamous "Hell Ships") The ship was so crowded with prisoners that only one man out of three could lie down. He was on the ship for 3 months. Many of the men became sick on the ship because there was little food and no medicine.

He was sent to Yokkaichi prison camp in Japan. There he was forced to work in a copper mine loading big, heavy ore carts and pushing them to the smelter. There was no heat in the buildings (and Japan has a climate much like Spokane with cold, snowy winters) and very little food. He slept on a straw mat that was infested with fleas and lice.

One day he had his picture taken. (I wish I had a digital copy that I could post on here) The picture was sent back to the United States so that people would think that the prisoners were well cared for. In that picture my Grandpa is wearing a nice clean prisoner uniform. But he only wore that uniform for his picture. As soon as his picture was taken, he had to give that uniform to the next man for his picture, and to the next, and the next. His real clothes were ragged and worn out.

In September 1945 the war was over. Grandpa had been a prisoner of war for 3 1/2 years and had lost over 100 pounds during this time. He came back to the United States on a hospital ship. When he regained his strength (he was paralyzed from the lack of nutrition) he returned home to his family. He eventually married my Grandma and began a family.

My Grandpa was very proud to be an American and it showed brightest when he would salute the American Flag. He sacrificed 3 1/2 years of his life so that America would remain free. He did this for his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

Of course this is a simplified version of what he went through, remember it was originally written for elementary kids. And apparently the kids were so interested that you could have heard a pin drop while my Mom was reading this. Cool!!

I am so proud of my Grandpa. He was not one to talk about his experiences. It just wasn't something he talked about very much. He wasn't boastful and I think that was one reason he didn't feel the need to talk about his time as a POW. I have enjoyed learning more about his time as a POW as I have gotten older. I think it is because I can really appreciate how much he must have endured during those 3 1/2 years.

Thank you to all the Veteran's in my family, and Rick's family. We are very grateful for all you sacrificed for our freedom!!

The Lows of Life

Today when I was on Facebook I noticed that Rick's status said "dealing with the lows of life." It made me sad. But it also reminded me that we are both feeling pretty low right now. So many things seem to be going wrong for us right now. It just feels like we can't catch our breath. Almost like we're drowning. The ship is sinking with us on board.

One of the biggest lows Rick is dealing with is his work schedule. He really hates the shift changes he is dealing with at work. It is especially frustrating for me to watch him struggle due to all the crazy different hours he has been working. This past weekend was really rough on him. He had to work at noon one day and then turn around with less than a day in between and work at midnight. That caused him to spend all day on Halloween suffering with a terrible headache. He hardly got any sleep, I am talking like maybe 2 hours. It would be hard for a healthy person to work like that, but for someone that is not healthy it is unbearable. My PSC peeps understand the fatigue that comes with having PSC. So to already deal with that type of fatigue and then add in ridiculous shift changes is very hard on the body.

And then today he was told that the store manager likes having him at the store in the evenings and wants to keep him on this crazy @$$ schedule. (sorry for the language, I am just really pissed) That is NOT fair. The manager said he wants the new person to work Rick's shift and keep Rick with the screwed up shifts. Rick has worked there for 16 years and now is being treated terribly. For someone who said that they want what's best for Rick they sure are screwing him over. So the lesson here would be that working hard only gets you screwed with!

I just want to runaway, but I know that won't help. But I just need a break. I have been trying to hand all this over to God but I am not good at that. It has just been such a hard year. I feel broken somehow. Like I am not the same person anymore. I just don't care as much about some things anymore. I really don't care if my house is organized. I really don't care if everything is picked up and put away. I just really don't feel like the same person. And it makes it worse when those little things are pointed out to me. Like I don't know that things in my house aren't the same. Like things in my life aren't the same. They're not. And now I have to learn how to embrace the new me. I shouldn't feel guilty for not wanting to go back to the old me. And for those people that don't accept this as me now, well then they just don't have any idea what this last year has done to me.

I really do want to feel happy again. But this time of year is really hard to deal with when I don't have the finances to enjoy it. I look at my girls and feel sad that I can't do the things with them that they want to do. I do hope that they know how very much I love them. And how sorry I am that they don't get to do all things they want to do.

Oh goodness, I am really pathetic. Sorry.

Jaime

Crowbar Incident

WARNING: Gross picture below!

Rick had himself a little accident tonight. He was moving some cabinets in the basement from his drum room to the laundry room. The cabinet needed to be cut out of place. Rick was using a crowbar and set it on top of the cabinet. He bent down and wiggled the cabinet. Remember what was on top of the cabinet? Yep, the crowbar. It fell off the top of the cabinet and landed on the top of his head.

He came upstairs and called for me to come help him. And he made sure to tell me in advance not to freak out. I had heard the saw running downstairs and then I heard something fall, which happened to be the crowbar. So I figured I was going to be seeing something I didn't want to see.

I walked in to the bathroom to see blood pouring down Rick's face. I held it together, grabbed a towel, and starting wiping up blood. When I could finally see where the blood was coming from I made the decision to take him to the Emergency Room. Of course Rick didn't want to go, but he went because he said he knew if he didn't he wouldn't hear the end of it.

Thankfully we didn't have to wait for very long in the ER. Rick got 4 stitches in the top of his head.


And then we came home and he showed off the crowbar that did the damage.


Didn't think I would be spending Sunday evening in the Emergency Room. And I didn't freak out about all the blood either. Wow!!

Until next time,
Jaime