Pearl Virginia Mattingly

This past week we were back in Arizona to attend the funeral of my husband's paternal grandmother, Pearl Virginia Mattingly- or as we all knew her- Grandma Ginny.

It was a lovely intimate service with just a handful of close family in attendance. We were all concerned about the weather. Arizona has already started its heatwave and it was predicted to be in the 100's the day of the service.

But the morning of the service found the sky filled with clouds that created a much welcomed overcast. As we sat under the mortuary's gazebo, listening to the pastor and being soothed by the trickle of the nearby stream, we were all amazed at the light cool breeze that came our way.

Valley of the Sun Mortuary

Grandma Ginny's ashes were laid to rest just a couple of steps away from the gazebo and stream. We watched as the simple brass cylinder hold Ginny was slowly lowered into the ground. And on top of the cylinder laid the black heart that I had tattered.

Ginny was born with very weak lungs. The family doctor told her mom that she wouldn't make it to her 18th birthday. In the 88 years that Grandma Ginny lived, she has buried not only that doctor, but four other doctors who predicted her death. Her last doctor said, "I'm not even going to try a guess how much longer you have here on Earth. God will take you when He is good and ready, and not a moment sooner."


On one visit to see Ginny after a long hospitalization, we talked about her childhood in Kentucky and her siblings. We also talked about what it is like to live with a chronic illness, something we both have in common. I will never forget the words she said to me. "You know Michelle, I've never been afraid to die. Dying is easy. It's the suffering that's a bitch."

She was a tough country girl who beat the odds. She could shoot a gun and gut a fish just as easily as she could feed and dress her little boy. I will never forget her stories or her sense of humor. And I will always admire her strength and stubborn strong will.

No more suffering Grandma Ginny. Only peace and rest.

And Other Drugs

So, I just finished watching "Love and Other Drugs", starring Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal. I never got to watch it when it was in theaters, so had to wait for it on Netflix.

It was a wonderful movie full of delicious eye candy of have nude Anne and Jake, (Jake, your ass looks hot in any camera angle, just thought you should know). But The major part of the movie that made me cry like a baby was Anne's character, Maggie.

I so related to Maggie with her disease. Relationships were not my thing because I just couldn't see anyone wanting to be with me, knowing that with my disease I would get worse, not better, over time. Relationships are about being able to lean on each other- you know, when one is weak, the other is strong. But who on God's green earth would knowingly walk into a relationship where most of the burden would be one-sided?

So, I built up my brick wall for my own protection and walked into relationships prepared for the break-up. Guys would say, "Baby, you know I'll be there for you". Which is very easy to say when I was going out with them partying and having fun. But when I was laying in the hospital with an IV  in one arm and a blood transfusion in the other, well, those same guys couldn't find the exit fast enough.

At a certain point I got to where on the first date I would drill the guy with a set of questions that would determine if there would be a second date:

"Have you ever heard of Sickle Cell Disease?"

"If someone you cared about was in the hospital, what would you do?"

"What if the person you married got sick to the point they couldn't work anymore and you had to take care of them, what would you do?"

"Do you think, if you really loved someone, that you could marry them, knowing they had a life-threatening disease?"

Not exactly the warm and fuzzy conversations most people have on first dates, but I wanted to cut to the chase. I really had no time to play around or try to ease the person into the reality of my life. Needless to say, my approach lead to few date offers. But on the plus side, I faced very few disappointments.

Then my Boy Toy walked into my life. Other the course of the next seven years, AND  against my own will I might add- I fell in love. I fell in love with someone who made me laugh, who was interested in what I had to say, and for a few moments in my life, made me forget that I was sick. So, I did what any sensible girl would do when they find themselves falling in love. I freaked the hell out! We argued. We broke up. We got back together. We broke up. We got back together. Then my Boy Toy moved to another state. We went our separate ways and I tried to get on with my life.

Then on an ordinary day he called me out of the blue and asked if I'd come visit him. I still don't know for the life of me what made me say yes, but I did and while I was there he proposed to me. I explained to the idiot what he was getting himself into, but then he said the following:

"Many people have given me advice on why I shouldn't marry you. There is the whole race issue, but it is  mainly because you have a disability. But I decided that I can't live my life following other people's  advice. I have to live it following my heart. And my heart tells me that I can't live without you. So I don't care if its fifty years or only five years, what ever time God has left for you here on Earth, I want to live it with you."

Now, would you be so kind as to excuse me while I go get some Kleenex for my face and then go make love to my Boy Toy like there's no tomorrow!