Break Time

I'm taking a much needed break in the action. I've been running all day and 99% of yesterday getting things ready for Kate's Birthday Brunch. I'm not doing all that much for the party itself but my house was in great need of a major purge.
I've been through every one's clothes, through all the drawers, closets, etc. throwing away, donating and organizing. To quote my beautiful daughter "Mommy you're a really hard worker."No, I didn't pay her to say that.

The house is quiet except for my ipod playing some good tunes and the self cleaning oven heating things up. I'm doing a phenomenal job of avoiding.
I'm avoiding thinking about how much I miss him. I'm avoiding, thinking about how things would be different if he were here. I'm avoiding remembering the week before Kate's birth.
I had been miserably sick with bronchitis and laryngitis from being in the hospital for four days and my blood clots and pulmonary embolism had been diagnosed and I had been on treatment (shots in the stomach at 39 and 40 weeks SUCK) for a week. He was a rockstar. I didn't want or need for anything. My constant cheerleader, my shoulder to cry on, my faith that everything would be alright. I could not have gotten through those weeks without him. And now four years later he's gone and I'm left with a hole the size of China in my soul.
This fucking sucks.


One of those days

Ever have one of those days? Everything I touched today just seemed to break apart in my hands. It's really sad when a trip to the dentist is a highlight. Now, I do LOVE my dentist (and his girls) but I HATE going to the dentist. Know what I mean. More on that soon.

There are still important people out there that don't know about Scott's passing. I finally had to make one of those calls today. Six weeks later, it still sucks. In some ways its harder than it was in the days immediately following.
Right after your almost drunk. Things seem surreal, much of it is a blur. A huge, long, spinning, nauseating blur. Right after, you get used to telling the story. You spit it out like a programed robot. You accept condolences even when you don't really feel them. You do what you're supposed to because you don't know what else to do.
But six weeks later, there is no auto pilot. It's raw and the reality of what life is without them is screaming. No amount of alcohol could make you drunk enough to just go through the motions now. There is simply no escape.


Gift from God

Even on my worst days I always see the amazing gifts that surround me. It's a gift from Scott.

I used to feel that my problems (work, car, life) were so much worse than other peoples. That I somehow held the award for the most suckiness on earth. Somehow my trivial, daily, problems were superior. And then I met Scott.

Long before the VEDS diagnosis, long before all the months in the hospital, and certainly years before his death, Scott taught me that most of life is perspective. When we met he had already been through so much. The loss of his mother and his sister.

The burdens of caring for his non-communicative, alcoholic father, and managing the family business. Being so young and having Multiple Sclerosis.
None of that phased Scott. He just kept right on living. Always looking at others and feeling their hardships, their pain. It was just his way.
I've talked about his ability to see the bright side here before. I'll refrain from writing that post again.

While sitting on the floor listening to Brandon and Kate play Nicole and I talked about how things were those last few weeks. She asked about my hardest days and how I was feeling. Sitting there, I didn't feel much sadness. I felt a tremendous amount of faith, love and support.
I found myself talking about how things went as well as one could hope. I had envisioned Scott's death so many times, never thinking the most profound moment of my life would be the most uneventful. I should have known that a peaceful, loving, graceful passing would be a gift that God would give to Scott. There is certainly no one more deserving.

Today when I found a beautiful vase full of fresh flowers, a gift from God, on my door step, I chuckled. Here I was having just come from a wonderful play date with a family that inspires me, I was talking on the phone with Jay'me who called "just because", I was making a healthy lunch for my beautiful daughter. There were just so many gifts.

Gifts surround you. Friends that bring dinners, even after you cancel on them last minute. Filling 20 bags of clothes with your daughter teaching her the meaning of giving to those less fortunate. Scrambling to put together a birthday brunch larger than you expected because your friends are coming in droves to celebrate your baby girl. Having lost enough weight that your husbands wedding ring actually fits on your finger which it didn't do when you purchased it. An Easter morning spent with family that loves you and doesn't ask "what's wrong" every time you choke back tears. An Easter brunch spent with family that thinks to toast to the person you're missing most.

Friends (new and old), that send pictures, notes, love, support through modern technology. For having 3,097 days being loved in the most incredible way.

A very special thank you to "my God" for the beautiful flowers. A warm, loving, welcomed reminder that I am loved.
The depths of my gratitude for all of my gifts runs deeper than I could ever imagine.


The Original

The Florida member of the "Scott Witt Man Harem" has sent me a few photos from "back in the day" recently.
I have absolutely loved every picture Craig has sent over. They are all from times before I knew Scott. Times when he was so vivid, so real, so alive.

When I opened this photo I squeeled out load. This is Scott's "signature" pose. In the thousands of photos I have, I never once managed to get this moment. I've gotten close, but not this one. It's that spark in his eyes. So full of love...

It's exactly what I needed today.

Thanks Craig!



I'm making these right now for Kate's birthday brunch, happening this Sunday. I spent the afternoon getting things organized and that means I haven't gotten more than two seconds to be on the computer today.
Lots to say, lots to share. For tonight I will share a few of my favorite photos from the Easter archives.

My favorite and the only one from 2009 on this computer

A candid while we were stuffing our faces in 2010.

The entire family in 2010. I think this is the last family photo we have. That's really sad.

I was so stressed getting us ready that day. It was our first "big" outing since Scott's two month stay at Rush in 2010. I came home exhausted, overwhelmed and cranky. Good Lord, I wish I could have that back. I fucking miss him.

Enough messing around. Time to get back to the salt mines.


Happy Easter

On the way home from a late brunch, I suggested to Kate that we stop at the store and get the ingredients to make some cookies. Being a happy little baker, she excitedly agreed. We decided on the way in to make oatmeal raisin cookies. I'm a baker at heart, and I have to say I've only made oatmeal raisin cookies three times in my life that I can remember.
Coming into the grocery store, Kate commented on the Easter balloons. She loves balloons. I can't tell you how many of them we've gotten just to have them break free in our living room and spend the next several weeks at the top of our 24' high ceiling. The day they return to reachable levels is like getting the balloon all over again.

We've also lost more than enough to the wild outdoors. What kid hasn't grasped onto the long string of a balloon watching it dance in the wind, just to have it ripped from their chubby little fingers and be taken away.
Shrieking, tears and epic meltdowns always ensue. It's just a sad fact of life that every child needs to adjust to.

After commenting on the balloon, Kate became quiet. A little distant even. I didn't think much of it, it had been a long day and it was long past nap time. Half way through the store, Kate asked me if it was "very windy" outside. "It is" I say.

"Mommy, do you think it's windy enough that a balloon would go all the way to heaven?" Her big blue eyes are staring at me with tears sitting on the edge.
"You know what Kate, I think it might just be windy enough. Should we send Daddy a balloon?"
"Yes! But I want to draw him a picture so he knows it's from me."
"Anything you want baby girl. Anything you want."

We came home, changed out of our Sunday brunch clothes. I chose instead to snuggle inside a over sized hooded sweatshirt that was Scott's.
Sitting at the kitchen table, I asked Kate what she wanted to say to Daddy. I wrote exactly what she told me to. She colored a picture on her Easter Bunny pad of paper that we attached to the back of the card.
Out in to the wind we went. The backyard where we've had so much fun as a family, was the perfect place to give Scott our gift.

Letting the balloon go, Kate called out "Love you Daddy". We stood in the backyard, watching it float over the house, through the back yard, over the corn fields. We stood watching it until the tiny spec disappeared. Just me and my beautiful little girl, reaching out for the one thing we couldn't have today. Both of us with tears on our cheeks, smiled. Reaching in the pocket of the Scott's hoodie, there were two perfect, unused Kleenex tissues.

I think there will be many more balloons in our future.

We made the most of the day. Hoping you all did the same.


And I'm spent.

It was my turn on the other blog. Making the post today about killed me. I haven't figured out how to talk about Scott. Is he my husband, my late husband, my... I don't freaking know. How the hell am I supposed to know that? That's something you start thinking about when you're in your 60's or 70's. You don't think about that in your 30's. You just don't.

Sorry, end rant.

I had another moment today where I didn't know what to do or what to say.

Kate wants to know who plays every song on the radio and she wants to know what the song says. She stumped me on Captain Jack. Go ahead and pitch me your best, kid friendly, meanings for Captain Jack.

Time for this mama to play Easter Bunny. We won't go into the bitter, angry feelings I have right now about having to do this alone. Nor will we go into the bitter, angry, feelings I have that Kate will not remember a single Easter with her father. Nope, not talking about it. Not now at least. Time to swallow it and give Kate a wonderful, fun, loving Easter. She deserves it and so does Scott.

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday. We will.


I gots me...

some pink, blue, yellow and green fingernails. I bet you can't guess what I did today.

Oh wait, it's the time of year where grown people boil eggs, soak them in colored dyes, decorate them with stickers and say it's all for the kids.

Hello Easter eggs!

Grandma, Papa, Kate and I gathered around my parents properly covered dining room table and went to town.

I found the neatest thing this year. Little baby paint rollers for the egg dye.

Super fun to use but a little messy.

I'm a purist though so we had traditional colors too.

Every year I stare longingly at the Martha Stewart magazine and fantasize about having the skill, time and artistic talent to create a true masterpiece.
Instead, we end up with things like this.

Thanks Papa for keeping it real.

I'm already dreading Sunday morning. Scott's physical absence is almost unbearable.



We couldn't choose a song to be our first dance. I would suggest something you would roll your eyes. You would suggest something and I would repeat for the 900th time that I was not dancing to the Allmann Brothers or the Grateful Dead.
Driving in the car was a marathon session of flipping stations and rejecting song after song. One long trip after another, everywhere we went. We sent each other messages with song ideas. Never getting anywhere.

It was a Sunday morning. I turned on the radio and was making pancakes in our tiny little kitchen in the house on Hawthorne. You were just getting out of the shower. Remember that bathroom? So tiny you could hardly move.
This song came on the radio and I stopped. I had heard it before. I knew this was it. I met you in the living room. You smiled at me and said "want to try it?". There in that tiny house that was all ours, we danced.
Your hair still barely damp. The smell of Crest on your breath. Your comfy Sunday fishing sweatshirt under my cheek.
That was it. It was perfect.

I heard this song today. I've been avoiding it. But today it found me twice. I figured the second time around I had better just give in and listen, you weren't going to give up.
I remembered that Sunday morning.
I remembered dancing to it at our wedding. In that moment surrounded by so many of the people that mattered the most to us, I only remember you. It was the only moment that entire day that my head and my heart were quiet.
I remembered all the other moments when it would come on the radio in the years following. You would always hold my hand.

I remembered and I smiled. I didn't cry. I just felt the love. The same way I always have.
Because I have faith.


Flat Michael and other stuff

Thank you for loving me even when I'm a Debbie Downer. When I sit down to write each night (or whenever the mood strikes me) I do my best to write from my heart. Somedays that is a beautiful, snuggly, warm post and other days, more often than not lately, it's cold, raw, and painful.
Sharing my feelings and thoughts here, even when writing the letters to Scott, always makes me feel better. A purging of the soul if you will. Then to hear that there are other out there that I might be affecting, it floors me. I'm not here to tell anyone how to run their life. I'm only here to share what mine is like and what I wish I could have or should have done.
This blog has become my safe place. It's also become my way of documenting this time in Kate's life. She won't have many, if any, actual memories of Scott. It the one thing that hurts the most. When I go back and read old posts, I'm transported in time, I hope Kate can get the same benefit. I will spend my life, and hers, honoring Scott and making him as much a part of our lives as possible.

Look what I did this morning while Kate had a make up day at school.

Heehee... I love getting muddy. Today though, while Dave and I carried a 150lb bender through the mud, I made a wrong step and wouldn't you know it, my boot got stuck. It was FABULOUS. Completely covered in mud up to my knees. If I didn't have to drive back and pick up Kate from school, I probably would have just thrown myself into the mud puddle and called it a day.

So I mentioned a project I was working on for my cousins son. Michael asked me to be part of a school project. His class had just read the book Flat Stanley and they needed to make a flat version of themselves and find someone to send it to. I was the lucky one and got to have Flat Michael here with Kate and me for almost two weeks.
I had lots of lofty ambitions for Flat Michael. In the end, I put together this book and sent it to Michael to share with his classmates.

I realized my typo today when I picked up the prints. I suck. Maybe the teacher can use me as an example of why proof-reading is important.

And because it's been far to long since her beautiful face has graced this place. Miss Kate.

I see so much of Scott in her face now. The eyelashes, the tiny mouth, the uneven fullness in the top lip, the joy... it's all him.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Marlene, will you please email me. I've had some serious email issues and can't find your email address anywhere.
Anyone else can email me too, you don't even need to pretend to be Uncle Jim and Aunt Marlene.

Rolling right along with life.



I could make up a long list of excuses on why I'm not going to get you all up to date.
I could use,
It's really raining, my nails are chipped, my hair is dry, it's Tuesday, I'm wearing gray. The list goes on.

Instead, I'm going to go with the truth.

8pm is the hardest time of day for me. I put Kate to bed and then I start to feel it. This emptiness. This longing. This regret.

After putting Kate to bed I would come back downstairs and get Scott settled for the night. Dressing changes, pillow fluffing, a tucking in of sorts. It was our one time to talk without Kate interrupting.

There were so many times that I wished that time away. Where I was frustrated, short tempered. Where I didn't want to talk. Where I quickly did only what had to be done.

I had grand ideas for that time. We could get caught up on the final season of our favorite show Alias that I bought us on DVD two Christmas ago. I could write down Scott's favorite childhood stories. We could video them, if he was feeling up to it. We could just sit and hold hands.

But then I let life get in the way. I was in a hurry. I had things to do. I was tired. I didn't want to talk. I couldn't stop being the nurse long enough to be the wife.

I want to give back a fraction of what I squandered. I want to give it back and get a few more minutes. Another chance to watch a movie holding my husbands hand and not check my phone a thousand times. Another chance to try again to memorize the exact color of his eyes. Another chance to hear the same bad jokes over and over again, maybe one more time and I would be able to remember them. Another chance to hear him say "I love you". He never said it without feeling.

Every night as I would leave his room, he would say it as I reached the door. Almost blurting it out. Like I was going to forget. I would stop, stand in the door way, look at he and Becky tucked away from the night and say "I love you too" as I turned out the lights. I want one more of those.
That's the one moment that I always sucked in. Inhaling it like it was the last breath of oxygen on the planet. Letting it feed my soul.
If I stand at that door now, I can almost hear it.

My mindless ramblings come down to this. My little piece of advice for the day.

Don't spend so much time wishing away the things you don't like that you lose the things you love.

I always knew my "good moments" with Scott would end to soon. But even I wasted my time. Don't waste yours. There are no guarantees on when you could find yourself without the things you thought you hated, realizing there was so much you loved underneath it.


Fellow Parents

We all know this to be true. When you need it the least your child becomes sick.
Am I right?
It's the flu the day before the birthday party. The fever when you have an important appointment and MUST have someone else with your child. The trip to the emergency room at 2am because no child seems to get hurt or seriously ill at 1030 in the morning.

My list of things that needs to get done didn't shrink much today. Kate woke up as normal. While I was getting ready, she was supposed to be eating breakfast and enjoying a program. When I hear her tearing up the stairs, I'm not surprised. I was however very surprised to hear her puke all over the upstairs hallway.
My kid has never been much a puker. I'm very, VERY lucky in that regard. Poor kid just didn't know what to do.
I get Kate cleaned up and assess the situation. No fever, she says she feels fine, she REALLY wants to go to school.

Hmmm.... why can't this just be normal? Oh because it's me. That's why.

School's out. I'm not doing that to any other parent (you're welcome). A call to Grandma and Kate is now excited about playing at Grandma and Grandpa's for a bit while I accomplish the one task that would take me from home.
Finish getting ready. Load the car. Kate still saying she's fine. Head out. Make it to the Starbucks (don't judge me) drive thru.
You know what happens next. Yep, that's right. Puke all over herself, her car seat and the car while we wait in the drive thru.

Get her cleaned up, get the coffee (I'm not stupid) and head back home. Baby girl needs her mama and baby girl is more important than anything else.

Lots of snuggles, more movies that should be allowed, a quick visit from Grandma and Grandpa (nope she's not spoiled), and nothing checked off my to-do list. At the end of the day, my baby was feeling better and so was I.
I was right where I needed to be today. Even if that means tomorrow will resemble an Olympic game of ping-pong.

Thank you all for the Disney, tips, tricks, advice, encouragement. Keep it coming. Give me a complex dressing change with live tendon and I laugh like a school girl, it's too easy.
Give me a trip to Disney World and I cry, studder, beg for my mommy and have panic attacks. Ok, not really... well, maybe a little.


Shhh... don't tell Kate

The Witt girls are headed to Disney World!
Thank you Google images for allowing me to "borrow" this picture.

I'm busy trying to get things organized. Turns out Disney trips are usually planned months if not years in advance. Disney staff is lovely but the entire program is just not quite designed for last minute planners like myself.

We've had a good weekend. It's been loaded with activities. Keeping busy, keeping happy and missing Scott. It's just what we do.

More hours to devote to giving my best girl her "Magical" 4th birthday present. While I'm doing that you all can tell me what you think wins the prize for the biggest show of overcompensation.

Me giving my girl a trip to Disney World for her birthday to overcompensate for her missing daddy.
Balding, beer gutted, boring job having, late 40's man buying a Porsche to overcompensate for his broken dreams of being a stud.

You be the judge. Either way, I'm going to go bribe someone to get Kate a meal with Ariel.

Back with cupcakes (yes more), Flat Michael, baseball, puppies and a little something that is sure to make most of you cry (good cry).


The 15th - a letter to Scott

God, I miss you. I've been holding it together for the last 30 days. I've been feeling whatever emotion I have at the moment but, I've challenged myself to find the silver lining everyday. I was trying to follow your example.

Today I failed. I'm sorry I failed. I just couldn't quite get it together today. I can't believe it's been a month since you left Kate and I. All day long tears sat just below the surface, waiting for the slightest thing to send them pouring down my cheeks.
*and yes I am an ugly crier regardless of what you always said.*

I cried when I picked Kate up from school today and for the first time she asked if it was ok to talk to you. I wanted to give her some space, some privacy, to say what she wanted to without knowing I was listening. I know I shouldn't have turned down the radio and listened in. I couldn't help it. She misses you so much and I'm so glad she feels comforted "talking" to you.

I tried to get Kate to go with me to get cupcakes this afternoon. I didn't want to be home during the 3-4pm time. Our daughter had a different agenda. You know the Princess dress up book you guys played with the day before you passed? You played with it while Kara took those pictures. Kate took that book and went and sat on the floor of the office, where your bed used to be, and played. She didn't talk about you at all but I know you were with her at that moment.
I sat down and wrote all of your "brothers" messages, staying connected with them like you asked, the tears once again poured down. Thank you for sending Kate to my rescue. She offered me a "spot of tea" and held my hand, reminding me that "Daddy is always with us in here." as she pointed to her heart.

Tears at the McDonalds commercial as they advertised the fruit smoothie you drank that last morning. Tears at the rain because I couldn't remember what the weather was like the day you died. I know the day after you passed it was a glorious day. I know this because I remember thinking, it was heavens way of showing me how happy they were to have you.

Tears when I sat in front of our church, staring at the front door remembering what it was like to walk out them, holding your hand, dragging you down the stairs and feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Kate wants to go inside the church. I told her maybe we would go on Sunday, always leaving religion open to her, just like we talked about. Thank you for allowing me to have your service at the funeral home and leaving our church as a warm spot in my heart. It will make it so much easier for me to step inside again.

Tears when I turned on the tv tonight and it was Dante's Peak. I got to hear my favorite line, you know it... "coffee, coffee, coffee." I always tripped you up with that one on our guess the random movie quote contests.

For the first time, I've felt regret. I preached so much about no regrets. Staying in the moment and living life. But now, I feel like I didn't do enough.
I know, I know, those feelings are irrational. But, I also know that you shared the same feelings about your family when they passed. It's just part of healing I guess.
In time, the huge holes of regret that I feel today will be filled. They'll be filled with the love you gave me every moment you were here, and the love you continue to give me from beyond.

You wouldn't believe all the love and support everyone has shown Kate and I. Well, you would believe it. You always believed the best in people. I'm the sceptic. Good thing all these wonderful people are doing your job of keeping me from losing faith in the human race. Everyday we get cards, messages, extra hugs and love. We get them because of all the lives you touched just by being you. I don't think I ever told you what a honor it was to be your wife. You chose to love me, despite or maybe because of, all my faults.

As always, I feel better just talking to you. Even now. You bring my weary soul peace. I miss you Baby. I promise I'll do better May 15th. I'll honor you, it's all I can do now.

Your wife


I Want

These aren't as gorgeous as the pictures Kara took.
But they mean the world to me.

My mom took these the morning of Scott's rally day.

There are huge parts of that day that are just a blur for me. But then there are these wonderful moments that stick out in my mind like it was just a few moments ago. The laughs, the smiles, chopping up every piece of fruit in the house into teeny tiny pieces because that's what Scott wanted to eat. Teasing Scott that my hands were never going to be the same again The feel of his hands on mine as he pulled my hands to his lips and kissed them. The sounds of his voice when he promised me that everything would be alright.

I want to climb into my bed tonight and wake up on Saturday morning. I want to forget tomorrow. I want to rewind the last month and go back to this moment.

Life is filled with wants. The reality is most of what we want isn't what we really need. So tomorrow I will get up and I will focus on what I need, on what Kate needs. We'll look at pictures, we'll watch some video, we'll remember him. But then we'll go out and do something fun. We're going to do what he wanted us to do. It's the best way to honor him.


F you Blues Clues

Who would think that this could possibly make me burst into tears?

Sitting and watching the end of Blues Clues tonight I noticed that at the end of the song they sing "thank you" and do the sign for thank you at the same time. Thirty long nights ago, Scott couldn't speak the words thank you so he just kept motioning until I figured out he was trying to sign it to me.
Now, kids shows can reduce me to tears. As we inch ever closer to the 30 day mark, I'm finding that my feelings are sitting awfully close to the surface. Not that they have been buried too far down.
Sometimes I just need to say it.... FUCK.


Snuggle up

Its going to be a long post.

First, a little video that Kate and I stumbled upon tonight. It's from August 23, 2008. Kate is 15 months old and Scott is home from his first "extended" Rush stay.

Yep, I cried. It was great to hear his voice though. He sounds so strong even though in my mind he was so weak already. I didn't realize then how bad things would get. I didn't think it was possible.
The silver lining though, Scott was still "Scott" right up until his last breaths. He laughed, loved, and played with Kate, his pride and joy.

**Pass the tissues**

Moving along.

I went nuts again today.

My time away being an adult is immeasurable.

Get it? Get it?

Sheesh... tough crowd.

Moving right along.
In our whirlwind trip to Iowa we celebrated the 4th birthday of cousin Talise and the 12th birthday of cousin Amity.

Two very beautiful, very smiley girls that are growing up WAY to fast.

These kids have a way of making me feel old, giving gray hairs and crows feet. But more importantly, they have a way of teaching us unconditional love.

Heart filling, life rewarding, LOVE. Like nothing else on earth.

But then they grow up and turn into this. My cousin Troy trying on Talise's Little Mermaid.

I have quite a few cross dressers in my family. Just look at my cousin Jeremy. You wouldn't know that he's home on leave from his third tour to the middle east.

Deanna (Troy's wife, Jeremy's sister) beat the living daylights out of Jeremy and stole his "princess" gear.

Yep, we're all a bunch of kids.

Or maybe it was just the group I was spending time with. Looks like this bunch was behaving nicely. Or maybe not.

We didn't go back to Iowa on Saturday because Kate and I had a very, VERY important date. My friend Stacy and I reconnected via Facebook (feel free to look me up, I LOVE Facebook friends). Turns out we're both a little nutty about cupcakes.

I have decided that this ^ might be my favorite breakfast of all time. My Starbucks and a Boston creme vanilla cupcake. Oh Heavens!

Stacy had an out of this world peanut butter cup cupcake.

And then there was Kate. She had the one appropriately called Princess right before she had one called Birthday Cake.

Yep, we had multiples while there and we both left with more.

How can you possibly say no to these?

You don't. You take home one of each and force your family to eat them with you so you don't feel like the gigantic pig that you are.

The place we went Keira's Cupcakes in McHenry, is about 25 minutes away and worth every second spent in the car.

And now the moment you've all been waiting for....

*Drum roll please*

Chrystal, you are the WINNER. Or if you're Charlie Sheen you're "WINNING". Send me an email at to collect your prize. I need to know where you live so I can decide to what your grand prize should be.
My first instinct is to provide you with a Starbucks gift card. I think everyone in the world should be as addicted to Starbucks as I am.

I am amazed that so many people knew the movie Multiplicity. Scott and Dad would forever be asking "Did you bring me a monkey Steve?". It was a staple every time they saw each other.
It eventually branched out and included the entire family and then it poured over to our Rush family. Missy (ready yesterdays comments) was part of it and Scott had me buy her a stuffed monkey named Bongo that presides over the 4th floor Occupational Therapy room at Rush. Everywhere he went, Scott brought the laughter and the love. Sharing it with everyone.

I hope you all made it through the post. Wednesday tomorrow. We're half way through the week kids.