I grew up in a small, working class suburb of Detroit, Michigan. Back then, it was a great community to grow up in with safe streets and had a warm, small town feel. Everyone knew everyone, so when I heard one of our "local boys" had written a book a few years ago, I of course had to know who it was.
His name is John Quinn. He was a little older than me and went to school with my sister. He had grown up in the house three blocks down on my street: the one with the giant anchor in the front and the ice rink in the winter.
What on earth did a boy from Garden City have so special that he could write a book?
In that small town, where everyone knew everyone, John and his family had kept a secret. A secret that makes his story so special. I highly recommend you get his book, "Someone Like Me".
You see, John was born with Cerebral Palsy (CP), a neurological condition that affects the muscles and can interfere with balance, coordination and development due to a type of paralysis of the muscles that can lead to spasticity (involuntary jerking of the limbs).
John did not walk until he was three and half years old. Although he never gave up trying to keep up with his siblings, his parents knew something just wasn't right in his development.
When John was 11 years old, his older brother came home from Navy boot camp and changed John's life forever.
John could have grown up and taken a job close to home, you know, something that could be easier for him due to his "disability". Nope. John took one look at his brother and made an impossible, unbelievable, seemingly unattainable decision.
My original intent for this entry was to share John's story of fate and circumstance but something happened in between that changed my choice.
As I stated earlier, John was a few grades ahead of me and I didn't know him personally.On a whim, I emailed John through Facebook and asked his permission to share his story of inspiration. To my surprise, he wrote me back and gave me the go ahead. As we emailed a few times back and forth, he mentioned he would be coming to Washington D.C. Oct 4th to deliver a speech (I looked it up, he will be the keynote speaker at the Veteran's Administration Headquarters in D.C. to kickoff the National Disability Awareness Month) and do a book signing.
Hmmm, a circumstance? Fate?
It occurred to me that readers just might want to meet this inspirational veteran, motivational speaker and published author.
There is no way I can capture the true essence of John's incredible, inspirational story so I decided to give some basic information and encourage you to check out his book, "Someone Like Me".
Thank you John, for allowing me to share your story but most of all, for being a true inspiration of courage, hope and perseverance in reaching any goal a person sets their mind to!
To preview John's first chapter and learn more about this amazing man, please visit www.johnwquinn.com.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
A Shared Blessing
Before I moved to Virginia, I worked in the admissions department of a skilled nursing facility. I loved this job because it allowed me to interact with people on a very personal level and really get to know their family dynamics. Little did I know that I would also get the opportunity to witness some pretty amazing events that just can't be explained. This particular story is actually my all time favorite.
About two months after I started there, a very nice, stoic gentleman came in requesting long term care for his mother. We sat down for a long time going over what type of care our facility offered for people with Alzheimer's, her finances, next of kin, etc. The man informed me that he wouldn't be able to visit every single day because of his work and distance to the facility. Sensing that this bothered him, I told him we would call him if it became necessary and as long as his mother was able to participate, we would keep her busy with various activities when he wasn't there.
Mrs. Ware* was a very, very quiet woman. It became obvious that her Alzheimer's was advancing quickly and she would often sit in her bed, staring out the window. She did not participate when taken to activities and even had to be fed by the staff. She was sadly very withdrawn and unaware.
Her son visited every other day, like clockwork. He would go into her room, tell her the days events and just sit and watch TV with her. She hardly ever spoke or even acknowledged his presence.
I worked in the front office so after the initial first few months, I didn't get the chance to see Mr. Ware* very often but knew by the patient reports that he continued with his visits.
One night I was stuck at work late, which meant I was also running late to pick up my daughter. As I started to walk fast down the hall, the heels on my shoes echoed "click, click, click" on the hard floors. All of a sudden I heard "excuse me, miss?" come from Mrs. Ware's room. "Oh shoot!" I thought as I glanced at my watch. Since she had been there for almost three years at this point, I knew she didn't necessarily need me in particular so I thought "let me grab a CNA". For some strange reason, something drew me from that thought and I went into her room. "Can I help you with something, Mrs. Ware?" As I stood there looking at her, she appeared very alert, which I found odd. She then said "could I talk to you for a minute?". In my mind I thought "oh boy, am I going to be late!". "Yes, Mrs. Ware, what can I get you?". She quickly replied "Do you know my son, George*?", I told her that yes, I did know George and he was a very nice man. She then said "Did you know he visits me almost every day? I am so lucky to have him for a son" and she smiled. That was all she wanted to tell me.
The next morning I went into work and my boss, Joann, told me "Mrs. Ware passed late last night". I could only look at her as she shared this news.
Two days later, Mr. Ware was walking past the front lobby, picking up his mothers personal items. Again, something told me what I had to do.
I quickly crossed the lobby and asked him if I could speak to him for a moment in private. Not sure if I was making the right choice, I told him of the events that took place the night before and told him I was sorry if what I said upset him as he stood looking at the floor.
He looked up at me, eyes full of tears and threw his arms around me. "Thank you so much, I always wondered if she even knew I was there". In that moment, I knew why she had told me this and I was so grateful that for some unknown reason, I had been blessed to share this gift with him. It suddenly occurred to me the inner turmoil and pain this kind and gentle man had endured all this time. Now he could be assured his love for his mother had not been unnoticed and his efforts to show that love had not been in vain
This event took place almost 9 years ago and it still touches my heart. Even though the circumstances dictated that I should have hurried along, I am so thankful that whatever caused me to stop in her room blessed me with this wonderful gift. Fate was kind that day!
*Patient and family names were changed to protect their privacy.
About two months after I started there, a very nice, stoic gentleman came in requesting long term care for his mother. We sat down for a long time going over what type of care our facility offered for people with Alzheimer's, her finances, next of kin, etc. The man informed me that he wouldn't be able to visit every single day because of his work and distance to the facility. Sensing that this bothered him, I told him we would call him if it became necessary and as long as his mother was able to participate, we would keep her busy with various activities when he wasn't there.
Mrs. Ware* was a very, very quiet woman. It became obvious that her Alzheimer's was advancing quickly and she would often sit in her bed, staring out the window. She did not participate when taken to activities and even had to be fed by the staff. She was sadly very withdrawn and unaware.
Her son visited every other day, like clockwork. He would go into her room, tell her the days events and just sit and watch TV with her. She hardly ever spoke or even acknowledged his presence.
I worked in the front office so after the initial first few months, I didn't get the chance to see Mr. Ware* very often but knew by the patient reports that he continued with his visits.
One night I was stuck at work late, which meant I was also running late to pick up my daughter. As I started to walk fast down the hall, the heels on my shoes echoed "click, click, click" on the hard floors. All of a sudden I heard "excuse me, miss?" come from Mrs. Ware's room. "Oh shoot!" I thought as I glanced at my watch. Since she had been there for almost three years at this point, I knew she didn't necessarily need me in particular so I thought "let me grab a CNA". For some strange reason, something drew me from that thought and I went into her room. "Can I help you with something, Mrs. Ware?" As I stood there looking at her, she appeared very alert, which I found odd. She then said "could I talk to you for a minute?". In my mind I thought "oh boy, am I going to be late!". "Yes, Mrs. Ware, what can I get you?". She quickly replied "Do you know my son, George*?", I told her that yes, I did know George and he was a very nice man. She then said "Did you know he visits me almost every day? I am so lucky to have him for a son" and she smiled. That was all she wanted to tell me.
The next morning I went into work and my boss, Joann, told me "Mrs. Ware passed late last night". I could only look at her as she shared this news.
Two days later, Mr. Ware was walking past the front lobby, picking up his mothers personal items. Again, something told me what I had to do.
I quickly crossed the lobby and asked him if I could speak to him for a moment in private. Not sure if I was making the right choice, I told him of the events that took place the night before and told him I was sorry if what I said upset him as he stood looking at the floor.
He looked up at me, eyes full of tears and threw his arms around me. "Thank you so much, I always wondered if she even knew I was there". In that moment, I knew why she had told me this and I was so grateful that for some unknown reason, I had been blessed to share this gift with him. It suddenly occurred to me the inner turmoil and pain this kind and gentle man had endured all this time. Now he could be assured his love for his mother had not been unnoticed and his efforts to show that love had not been in vain
This event took place almost 9 years ago and it still touches my heart. Even though the circumstances dictated that I should have hurried along, I am so thankful that whatever caused me to stop in her room blessed me with this wonderful gift. Fate was kind that day!
*Patient and family names were changed to protect their privacy.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
An American's Remembrance
It seems fitting to make an entry today, as our nation remembers that fateful day 11 years ago when that horrible, gruesome, tragedy hit our nation, forever changing our lives.
At the time, my family and I lived at Dover Air Force Base, Dover, DE.
I remember my husband, who was at that time an active duty Air Force fireman, calling me from work and told me to turn on the news. As I looked in horror at the first tower alight in smoke and flames, the second plane hit. I whispered "oh my God. That is no accident."
With the base on full alert, I drove the 3 miles to my daughter's elementary school. They had ushered the children to the auditorium and I remember the look of fear in their eyes when I opened the door. It took every ounce of my being not to grab my daughter's best friend, Sammy, but I knew if I waited much longer I might not be able to get back home on the base.
I remember being at my friend and next door neighbor's house with the 5 kids. As we tried to keep them occupied and their minds off of the terrible tragedy I couldn't stop thinking about what type of dangers our husband's would soon be in. Suddenly, it became oh so real what "sacrifice" was really going to mean.
We spent a lot of time praying. Praying for the victims lost, their families who must be racked with anguish. Praying for answers, for comfort, for understanding. To this day, I pray for a family of 3 that I never met. You see, they were on the plane together. Mom, Dad and a 3 year old daughter. This family was much like mine but there was one big difference. They would not know the joy of watching their little girl grow up into a woman.
Over the next few days, one became keenly aware of the quiet of the sky's. The absence of commercial plane noise became eerie.
I also remember the day I was on the telephone with my sister, standing outside when suddenly I heard the "whoosh, swoosh, whoosh" sound of the helicopters delivering the remains of the lives lost at the Pentagon. Their identification was to take place at the Dover Air Force Base morgue.
I remember volunteering at the chapel, preparing healthy food for the chapel staff in a feeble attempt to feel as if I were helping in some small way. The pain and sorrow deeply etched on their faces grew each day as they heroically tried to offer comfort to the victims families as they went through the process of "identification".
With this great sorrow, I also remember a country pulling together. Sharing love and kindness. Churches overflowed with spiritual conviction. Old Glory flew on every corner, every house, adorning every shirt.
For a brief while, we were a whole community united. United in patriotism and for love and concern for our fellow man.
On this painful day, in honor and remembrance of those who lost their lives, and indeed, as we were all affected in some way, let us remember what it really means to appreciate and honor what it means to be an American. Let us all remember.
At the time, my family and I lived at Dover Air Force Base, Dover, DE.
I remember my husband, who was at that time an active duty Air Force fireman, calling me from work and told me to turn on the news. As I looked in horror at the first tower alight in smoke and flames, the second plane hit. I whispered "oh my God. That is no accident."
With the base on full alert, I drove the 3 miles to my daughter's elementary school. They had ushered the children to the auditorium and I remember the look of fear in their eyes when I opened the door. It took every ounce of my being not to grab my daughter's best friend, Sammy, but I knew if I waited much longer I might not be able to get back home on the base.
I remember being at my friend and next door neighbor's house with the 5 kids. As we tried to keep them occupied and their minds off of the terrible tragedy I couldn't stop thinking about what type of dangers our husband's would soon be in. Suddenly, it became oh so real what "sacrifice" was really going to mean.
We spent a lot of time praying. Praying for the victims lost, their families who must be racked with anguish. Praying for answers, for comfort, for understanding. To this day, I pray for a family of 3 that I never met. You see, they were on the plane together. Mom, Dad and a 3 year old daughter. This family was much like mine but there was one big difference. They would not know the joy of watching their little girl grow up into a woman.
Over the next few days, one became keenly aware of the quiet of the sky's. The absence of commercial plane noise became eerie.
I also remember the day I was on the telephone with my sister, standing outside when suddenly I heard the "whoosh, swoosh, whoosh" sound of the helicopters delivering the remains of the lives lost at the Pentagon. Their identification was to take place at the Dover Air Force Base morgue.
I remember volunteering at the chapel, preparing healthy food for the chapel staff in a feeble attempt to feel as if I were helping in some small way. The pain and sorrow deeply etched on their faces grew each day as they heroically tried to offer comfort to the victims families as they went through the process of "identification".
With this great sorrow, I also remember a country pulling together. Sharing love and kindness. Churches overflowed with spiritual conviction. Old Glory flew on every corner, every house, adorning every shirt.
For a brief while, we were a whole community united. United in patriotism and for love and concern for our fellow man.
On this painful day, in honor and remembrance of those who lost their lives, and indeed, as we were all affected in some way, let us remember what it really means to appreciate and honor what it means to be an American. Let us all remember.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Fate and Circumstance
Have you ever wondered how a specific circumstance has affected the fate of an event? This thought has always fascinated me.
Every single day each of us make choices that can impact our lives or others in a small way or it could have a major life changing impact.
Just imagine going to your local ice cream shop and looking forward to getting your all-time favorite; vanilla ice cream. You always get vanilla because you just know it is simply the best flavor ever discovered. You love it so much you even named your dog Vanilla!
When you get there, the only flavor they have left is strawberry. Now you have a real predicament as this is the very last day to use your free ice cream cone coupon. Given the circumstance, you decide, "what the heck, I'll try some Strawberry ice cream". WOW! What an event! Now you can't wait to get home to celebrate by renaming your dog Strawberry after your new favorite flavor.
This is just a simple, fun example of how circumstances can affect everyday fate in our lives.
I hope to engage you, the reader, in not only reading and hopefully commenting on my stories, but to encourage you to share at least one of yours.
Sometimes when life is overwhelming, it's a nice distraction to ponder both small and large events in our lives. It can also help us to find purpose in an event that offers encouragement, hope or even just a little comedic relief.
Recently, I lost a very dear friend of mine. We literally worked side by side every day and would often have discussions about how interesting life was and how we as humans are all interconnected and can at times impact even a strangers' life in our daily actions.
In memory of him, I can't think of a more appropriate first story of circumstantial fate than the one of how he came into my life and ended up being one of the most positively influential people and best friends I've ever had.
I moved to Virginia in January of 2006. Within a month, my elderly cat, Skippy, had developed a sore spot on the side of his face and was sneezing profusely.
Not knowing the area well, I drove to the only vets office I knew.
When I arrived, I was told I could come back on Saturday and just sit and wait to be seen. I explained that Skippy had severe anxiety and was terrified of strange dogs and I was afraid it would over-stress him.
Needless to say, I finally asked if there were any other vets in the area. The receptionist gave me two different numbers and suggested I try the one that was a little further away.
I called the vets office and was promptly given an appointment for later in the day.
As I drove out to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, I noticed the mailbox number on the highway led to a small, rundown, bright green house. My thought was, "you have got to be kidding me!". If Skippy weren't so obviously uncomfortable I would have just went home but desperation often motivates a person.
After checking in, I was quickly taken to a small exam room with very aged windows. The next thing I knew, as I sat there holding my terrified cat, in walks this giant man with a booming voice. With eyes full of compassion, he introduced himself. I neglected to mention that Skippy was also terrified of strangers so I was amazed to see him so calm with this man.
Sadly, Skippy was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and the vet recommended we take him home, spoil and love on him, and come back when we felt his quality of life was diminished. He then gave us some sedatives to keep Skippy calm for the next time we came in.
About a month later Skippy had lost his appetite and was in pain. Again, we were given an immediate appointment.
Without going into specific sad details, we let Skippy go. It was gentle, dignified and I've never had a vet so genuinely caring. He even cried with my husband, Don and I.
We decided to stay with this vet for the rest of our animals. He even helped with several of my foster dogs during times of crisis and was always available. It just amazed me how a human being could be so darn compassionate. Little did I know!
Fast forward about four years. One day I was at his clinic when one of the staff members approached me and asked if I would be willing to help cover for one of their assistants who was going out for surgery. After all the help I had received over the years, I happily volunteered.
Several weeks later when I was offered a permanent job, I accepted and stayed on as his assistant. Our friendship continued to grow and it got to a point that I really think he was meant to be my brother. As much as we always got along, we actually got into a very heated argument one day over a snake. It must have looked comical as his six-foot-seven frame yelled down at my five-foot-four self, wagging my finger at him and yelling right back. I know our co-workers didn't know what to think as we are both known as the happy go lucky, never get mad types and never had a cross word for anyone.
Funny thing was, we later agreed the argument was pretty funny and the incident became known as the "Great Snake Fight of 2012". Imagine being furious with someone and literally continuing to work shoulder to shoulder with them! Truth is, it made our friendship even stronger as we knew and accepted each other for who we are.
On June 2, 2012, while my husband and I sat in Red Lobster, I received a phone call. My dear, wonderful, loving friend had collapsed in a heap at his daughter's softball game. Even though they were enroute to the hospital as we spoke, I just knew he was gone. Suddenly, our conversation from the night before was profoundly prophetic.
Every day I am so thankful I was fortunate enough to have such an amazing friend. I also cherish the fact that my friendship with Tom blessed me with many more friendships that I truly value. Some may even become fodder for this blog.
Prior to moving to Virginia, I worked in the admissions department of a skilled nursing facility. Since I was the initial point person and was responsible for all paperwork signing, explaining, etc., I had the opportunity to really get to know the patients and their families.
Tom loved hearing about some of the phenomenal crazy stories of fate I was lucky enough to witness and at times be a part of.
I'm anxious to share some of those stories as many of them are about love, hope and forgiveness.
For now though, I invite each of the readers to either comment on my story, or even better, share one of your own.
You never know; if you have taken the time to read this, perhaps fate has had a hand in it.
Every single day each of us make choices that can impact our lives or others in a small way or it could have a major life changing impact.
Just imagine going to your local ice cream shop and looking forward to getting your all-time favorite; vanilla ice cream. You always get vanilla because you just know it is simply the best flavor ever discovered. You love it so much you even named your dog Vanilla!
When you get there, the only flavor they have left is strawberry. Now you have a real predicament as this is the very last day to use your free ice cream cone coupon. Given the circumstance, you decide, "what the heck, I'll try some Strawberry ice cream". WOW! What an event! Now you can't wait to get home to celebrate by renaming your dog Strawberry after your new favorite flavor.
This is just a simple, fun example of how circumstances can affect everyday fate in our lives.
I hope to engage you, the reader, in not only reading and hopefully commenting on my stories, but to encourage you to share at least one of yours.
Sometimes when life is overwhelming, it's a nice distraction to ponder both small and large events in our lives. It can also help us to find purpose in an event that offers encouragement, hope or even just a little comedic relief.
Recently, I lost a very dear friend of mine. We literally worked side by side every day and would often have discussions about how interesting life was and how we as humans are all interconnected and can at times impact even a strangers' life in our daily actions.
In memory of him, I can't think of a more appropriate first story of circumstantial fate than the one of how he came into my life and ended up being one of the most positively influential people and best friends I've ever had.
I moved to Virginia in January of 2006. Within a month, my elderly cat, Skippy, had developed a sore spot on the side of his face and was sneezing profusely.
Not knowing the area well, I drove to the only vets office I knew.
When I arrived, I was told I could come back on Saturday and just sit and wait to be seen. I explained that Skippy had severe anxiety and was terrified of strange dogs and I was afraid it would over-stress him.
Needless to say, I finally asked if there were any other vets in the area. The receptionist gave me two different numbers and suggested I try the one that was a little further away.
I called the vets office and was promptly given an appointment for later in the day.
As I drove out to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, I noticed the mailbox number on the highway led to a small, rundown, bright green house. My thought was, "you have got to be kidding me!". If Skippy weren't so obviously uncomfortable I would have just went home but desperation often motivates a person.
After checking in, I was quickly taken to a small exam room with very aged windows. The next thing I knew, as I sat there holding my terrified cat, in walks this giant man with a booming voice. With eyes full of compassion, he introduced himself. I neglected to mention that Skippy was also terrified of strangers so I was amazed to see him so calm with this man.
Sadly, Skippy was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer and the vet recommended we take him home, spoil and love on him, and come back when we felt his quality of life was diminished. He then gave us some sedatives to keep Skippy calm for the next time we came in.
About a month later Skippy had lost his appetite and was in pain. Again, we were given an immediate appointment.
Without going into specific sad details, we let Skippy go. It was gentle, dignified and I've never had a vet so genuinely caring. He even cried with my husband, Don and I.
We decided to stay with this vet for the rest of our animals. He even helped with several of my foster dogs during times of crisis and was always available. It just amazed me how a human being could be so darn compassionate. Little did I know!
Fast forward about four years. One day I was at his clinic when one of the staff members approached me and asked if I would be willing to help cover for one of their assistants who was going out for surgery. After all the help I had received over the years, I happily volunteered.
Several weeks later when I was offered a permanent job, I accepted and stayed on as his assistant. Our friendship continued to grow and it got to a point that I really think he was meant to be my brother. As much as we always got along, we actually got into a very heated argument one day over a snake. It must have looked comical as his six-foot-seven frame yelled down at my five-foot-four self, wagging my finger at him and yelling right back. I know our co-workers didn't know what to think as we are both known as the happy go lucky, never get mad types and never had a cross word for anyone.
Funny thing was, we later agreed the argument was pretty funny and the incident became known as the "Great Snake Fight of 2012". Imagine being furious with someone and literally continuing to work shoulder to shoulder with them! Truth is, it made our friendship even stronger as we knew and accepted each other for who we are.
On June 2, 2012, while my husband and I sat in Red Lobster, I received a phone call. My dear, wonderful, loving friend had collapsed in a heap at his daughter's softball game. Even though they were enroute to the hospital as we spoke, I just knew he was gone. Suddenly, our conversation from the night before was profoundly prophetic.
Every day I am so thankful I was fortunate enough to have such an amazing friend. I also cherish the fact that my friendship with Tom blessed me with many more friendships that I truly value. Some may even become fodder for this blog.
Prior to moving to Virginia, I worked in the admissions department of a skilled nursing facility. Since I was the initial point person and was responsible for all paperwork signing, explaining, etc., I had the opportunity to really get to know the patients and their families.
Tom loved hearing about some of the phenomenal crazy stories of fate I was lucky enough to witness and at times be a part of.
I'm anxious to share some of those stories as many of them are about love, hope and forgiveness.
For now though, I invite each of the readers to either comment on my story, or even better, share one of your own.
You never know; if you have taken the time to read this, perhaps fate has had a hand in it.
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