Thanksgiving 2011

I was going to write a post about how thankful I am for everything BUT Jamie just came upstairs to inform me that I ate Ellison's piece of pizza that Rupert had licked on...so for now, I am going to go gag & try not to throw up.

My Sweet Sadie Mae

Sadie Mae

I am going to apologize in advance for my ADD attempt to put into words what I am feeling...

I guess every pet owner knows that the day will come when they have to say goodbye to their beloved pet. I, like many doggie lovers, could easily cry just thinking about that day...I could work myself into hysterics over the mere thought of having to say goodbye. Unfortunately, all those years of 'oh my gosh, how will I ever be able to do that' became a reality Thursday as I said goodbye to my sweet Sadie Mae.

Sadie's life with us started during one of Jamie's trips with football. I was all alone, looking through the newspaper when I saw an ad looking for a home for her. She had been a rescue...found starving & neglected in the slums of New Jersey but the rescuer realized that she was a Neapolitan Mastiff...a 3000 dollar dog that for whatever reason was now on the streets. She was rescued & her owner moved to Summerville but realized she didn't have the time or funds to pay for her medication. I went to 'meet' her while my husband was away :) and I fell in love with her instantly. The owners came to our house to check us out as well and the rest was history.

When we first got her, she came upstairs while I was taking a bath...I jokingly said, "come on girl" and before I knew it, I was sharing the tub with a 170 lb mastiff. Who knew??? She loved car rides, baths, trying to eat other animals lol...all kinds of things we just didn't know. She was a ton of fun but she was also a pain in the behind at times...she liked to get into garbage, hated her nails getting cut, she liked to drink out of the toilet, she liked to eat socks, underwear, dish towels...basically anything cloth she could swallow...she threw it up a lot which was also a pain to deal with...as was her quirky thing where she would bring you cloth as like a peace offering when you walked in the house. She was on pee pee meds because well...that is just what happens sometimes :) She was your typical old woman & to be honest with you, i like old women...I like their honesty & even their foul attitudes. Sadie kept us on our toes :)

Jamie hasn't let me forget that Sadie was 'my' decision. Having 2 huge dogs isn't exactly an easy thing...they eat a lot, shed a lot, drool a lot, poop a lot, and honestly, at times I have said they require more than my 2 young children...nevertheless...I love my dogs.

Sadie was my mushy girl. I loved her rolls, her desire to just lay ON you, and I honestly liked equaling out the 2 male to 1 female ratio in the home. I bought her girly collars, painted her nails hot pink...she was my girl before I had kiddos & as much of a pain as she could be, the house feels very empty without having a 3rd girl in the house...we are outnumbered now.

When we finally got pregnant with Thomas, I remember being extremely worried about how Sadie, not Rupert, would do with a baby in the house. It was honestly amazing, Sadie was the one that would go into the baby's room and lay down by his bed while he slept. She never ceased to amaze me. She did have her moments of grouchiness towards them and I often was worried we'd get sued because of her so we kept her on a tight leash :)

Yes, we had 6 good years with my girl. Last year, she tore her ACL...we struggled to figure out the right thing to do...I sobbed for about 12 hours straight with the thought of having to put her down...SOBBED! For a ton of reasons, we opted not to do surgery (her age, her breed, her grouchiness, her size, the cost, her past medical issues) & she actually did great not having surgery...she never appeared to be in pain nor did it seem to slow her down.

But about 2 weeks ago, she started throwing up. I tried everything in my power to help her...everything. I prayed, I forced fed her, I continuously offered her foods, we went to the vet 5 times in 10 days, we tried different medications...nothing helped. We just couldn't figure out what was wrong with her nor could we get her to bounce back.

Thursday was the day where I knew we would have to make a decision one way or another-if the antibiotics were going to work, Thursday would be the turning point...but in my heart of hearts, I feel like Sadie knew I could not do it...she knew I would second guess my decision if I had to be the one to make the call. So on Thursday, I sat with her in our kitchen and watched her slowly slip away...it sucked. My husband was at work, I sent the kids upstairs (my mom came and picked them up...thank you mom!), I talked to the vet trying to figure out what I could do to help her. I couldn't take her into the vet because honestly, she was too big for me to pick up so I made the decision to woman up and be there for her-I knew she was dying...it sucked. I don't wish that on anyone.

Anyone that has lost a pet, knows what I am talking about...its like getting hit in the stomach and honestly there is just no other way to say it. I know this is the best thing for her...she didn't give up until the very end. The vet said her breed is extremely stubborn & even though she was dying, she still fought by drinking, getting up as much as her body would allow....I just wanted to take it all away for her. They said they rarely see Mastiffs her age without major issues & that they are prone to cancer. We suspect cancer but that was never confirmed....at this point, it doesn't matter.

I never thought I could be strong enough to be by her side...I am an overly emotional person anyway so I knew, I would possibly go crazy...but I didn't. I did a great job...I didn't have another option...I had to be there for her. I honeslty believe it was because I had so many people praying for me that I was able to handle it. Don't get me wrong...I was over the top in true Lee fashion. I sobbed, I prayed, I screamed, I yelled, and just to be honest, I jumped up and down out of anger & frustration & sadness for her.

So I just thought I would write a little about my big mushy pup, Sadie Mae. The past few days have been difficult. I keep thinking she is in the other room, I actually called for her this morning when she didn't come out of the garage. Thomas has been handling it quite oddly (laughing, making jokes, wanting a new dog, wanting to know what we did with her body) while Ellison has been my more emotional one. She keeps looking for her & wanted to know if Rapunzel could go up to heaven so Sadie could slide down her hair to come visit us :)

Heaven & death are hard concepts. Both kids saw Sadie on the kitchen floor-I gave them the option to say goodbye before she went to heaven. I wanted them to see that there wasn't anything 'scary' going on...i just said she went to sleep & that she was ready to go to heaven. I explained that that is just her body but her personality, the real Sadie is running in heaven with all the other doggies. I think I did the right thing for them...not sure. It felt like it at the time.

I am going to get her ashes tomorrow. A tough thing about having a big dogs is what in the world to do with them. There weren't any good options. My neighbor actually said he thought I we were moving a body out & then he realized what was happening...Mastiffs are big dogs. Anyway, what to do? I am scared of graves & I knew it would freak me out to no end knowing she was in my backyard....I don't like the idea of cremation...I didn't like any options so I finally decided to get her ashes & possibly bury them...I still am not sure what in the world to do but hopefully that will come.

Who knew that losing a pet would be this emotionally draining? Thanks for all the prayers & thanks to everyone for understanding or at least tolarating my meltdowns :) I have some amazing people in my life and I love you all!

Part 5: The Light at the End of the Tunnel

It took a while. I was def a work in progress...still am...we all are but I am okay with that. I do look back on everything and wonder how in the world I made it but I have to tell you-it is because God brought the right people into my life at the right time.

For those that listened to blips here and there-thank you.
For those that said, "its time to get help"-thank you.
For those that prayed for me-thank you.
For those that hurt me-thank you.
For those that loved me despite me not being 'normal'-thank you.
And for my small group that made me a shirt that said, "No More Meds" when I was finally able to come off of them 7 years ago-thank you lol.

There is a time and place for everything & I honestly have felt God telling me that it is time to share this & let it go. Will I forget-never. Do I pray that somehow God uses this to help someone else-absolutely. Am I willing to talk about this if you need me to help someone struggling-absolutely.

I was able to get help through a variety of sources-therapy, family, friends, medication, but most importantly the healing had to come from letting it go & allowing God to heal some of those scars.

Can I say for certain, I will never wake up crying-probably not. Can I say for certain I have the tools to fight it-absolutely. Will I ever be able to watch 'Oprah' type specials without crying-nope :) I know what sets my thoughts in the wrong direction but I also know where to turn.

1 Peter 2:24
James 5: 13-16
2 Timothy 1:7

Something I have realized over the past 10 years is that there is no such thing as 'normal'...just normal for us. We all have a unique story that is being written. I honestly feel blessed beyond belief...most days :) And though I am in a completely different chapter of my life-I know that chapter was written for a reason.

I don't understand evil-and I don't understand death-and I don't have all the answers to the tough questions but I do know this...there is a bigger picture out there that all makes sense. If you are in a valley-not feeling normal-allowing 'something' to prevent you from living your life to the fullest-get help...I mean that from the bottom of my heart-turn to leaders in your church, a therapist, someone that cares...because there is a strong likelihood that there is someone out there that completely understands and can help you get to where you need to be.

Had you told me 10 years ago that I'd be married to Jamie, have 2 awesome kids, and be 'better'-I would have laughed in your face. It's easy to not see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I promise it is there & when you get there, you'll realize it was worth the journey.

(2 Corinthians 4: 7-12)
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.

Part 4: Unravelling

Like I said, I wasn't aware of it at the time, but I was slowly unravelling. Most people had no clue what was going on...including myself. Not sleeping, waking up from bad dreams, my thoughts being full of Kenya...being in a fog...crying over everything. On the flip side, I was an awesome teacher lol...I ran a great special ed class...I got rookie teacher of the year...honor rookie of the district...I was able to put it all aside when I was teaching so I threw myself into that...I also became the best liar out there.

I could look you in the face, smile, and tell you that my life was perfect-that I was so happy & that everything was wonderful...the truth was quite the opposite-I was lost, hurting, angry, tired, isolated, and full of voices kept feeding me lies about who I was 'worthless, damaged, beyond repair.' Sadly, I believed it.

The turning point came after waking up from a horrible night sweat & honestly having to pray out loud for God to keep me in my bed & for Him to gain control of the destructive thoughts I was having. It made me SO mad that I had no control over my thoughts at night & I knew that I needed help...professional help. This was around March of 2002.

I went to talk to the guidance counselor at my school-I told her about a 'friend' of mine that needed help. She sent my 'friend' to a local counselor...she later called me out on my 'friend' and I really appreciated that. It didn't take long for me to not only land myself in much needed therapy, but to get a nice dosing of meds lol...yup, I just said it...I was medicated pretty well but it still wasn't helping the way I thought it should be helping..."and the drugs don't work, they just make you worse but I, know I'll see your face again."

Sorry-I am honestly writing what is going through my head & unfortunately it was the Verve/Ben Harper's lyrics.

Anyway, I hid most of this from most people...for a long time. I mentioned a few people in my life that let me down-but there was one person who held me up (apart from my family) and that was my future husband/ex-boyfriend Jamie.

He didn't really understand but he didn't make me talk about things-he was just there...he was there for me when I was crying, he was there for me (even though I was dating someone else) when my grandmother passed away, he was there for me at 2 am when I called just to have someone talk to me so I could fall back asleep (thank you Aunt Carrie for not cussing me out for calling the house at 2am :) So we laugh that Jamie knew what he was getting into when he married me...but I did hide some of my craziness from him...I mean seriously, do you think he would have married me had I not? :)

Falling off my rocker was a humbling experience for me...before that, I had my stuff together. I graduated from college with honors, while not perfect, I was pretty on top of things...I thought I would remain that way forever...I was upbeat, positive (at least I'd like to think I was), I cheered, sang in various choirs, enjoyed life, my faith was solid...I was happy, fun to be around but then...this...how could 'this' happen to me? Nope, normal wasn't exactly probably ever gonna be associated with Lee Davis but slowly, I was becoming okay with that.

Lesson from this: If you dated a little cutie pie in college and you want her back, be her friend & don't give up on her :)

Part 3: 9/11

I mentioned earlier that my grandmother was getting worse...she declined a lot over that year I was gone & she was partly why I wanted to come home. My theory was "if I can't see it, its not real." Well, by going to Africa, all of a sudden some things became very real-poverty, death, disease, rape, hijackings, senseless acts of violence...all of a sudden I had faces & situations to go with these things...and now, I was also being forced to deal with the fact that I wasn't going to have my grandmother with me forever...which made me wonder about what other terrible things might happen to those I love...which made me wonder...do you get my point? It was a downward spiral of panic...of anxiety for things out of my control. I like control.

And then...9/11. Not sure if I even want to go into all the specific stories surrounding this topic but I will explain because I think it is important to get the bigger picture of God's love for me.

When I was in Kenya-I landed myself in a few situations that quite honestly I thought I was 'okay' with...

Situation 1:
I dealt with an attempted attack when the caravan of matatus (public transport vans crammed with people) I was traveling in was ambushed in the desert. I was the only non-Kenyan...there are so many side stories surrounding this story but the biggest thing in how it related to 9/11 is that the van I was going to get into was covered in Islamic 'scripture' and playing Islamic 'prayers.' Jane refused to get into that van & insisted we get into one with Christian scriptures. Our van was number 1 in the convoy-but we had to stop to fix a flat & therefore became number 2...when we were ambushed by who we believe to be bandits from Sudan-they got the number 1 van. Thankfully we were able to slam on breaks, do a 180, not get shot, & not get captured but we still had to go through the road block in order to get home...we drew straws & my van lost meaning we had to be the ones to get out and fight.

I have no idea how long we waited...it could have been 30 min...it could have been 3 hours...I can't remember but what I do remember is praying...I remember knowing I was right with God and praying for God to give me the strength to fight. A peace came over me...an insane peace and we got out ready to fight. I remember thinking I didn't want my body to lay in the desert & I didn't want to suffer...I remember thinking how much I loved my family & how much I wanted to live so I could spend more time with them...I remember pulling up and seeing blood everywhere...I remember seeing the driver shot in the head (hence my issues with Thomas pointing a gun at my head)...I remember seeing body parts cut off & slashed with what I assume was a machette (hence my issues with knifes)...I remember people dying on the side of the road & Jane telling me that the bandits had raped the women. I remember the radio on the van still playing and listening to the Islamic chanting from the speakers as I looked at this man with a single bullet hole to the head...but I was okay. I was strong. I just couldn't help though...I couldn't stop them from dying...I didn't even have water to help wash this one lady's wounds. Jane and I stood holding hands in utter disbelief that this could have just have easily been us...had it not been for Jane, I would have been on that bus...we swore to never speak of it but when we got home, we heard a lot of similar reports & we decided to talk about it.

Situation 2
On a smaller scale-I got hit really hard in Mombossa by a Muslim man in his 'outfit' I don't know the proper name...but my 'guide' told me I got hit because I was showing too much skin (I had on a sleeveless shirt-never mind the fact we were at the beach...in a tourist town...surrounded by women wearing far less).

Situation 3
While flying home from Mombossa, I sat next to a man who was there when the US Embassy in Kenya was bombed by a terrorist organization that we would soon learn a lot about...I remember listening to his story & telling him how it made me really mad that the countries that these terrorists were from didn't foot the bill for the rebuilding of the embassy...no telling what else I had to say but when I got off the plane, an extremely tall man stood up, and stared me in the eyes for several minutes straight as we were getting ready to get off the plane-he never broke eye contact-never said a word...I remember being really scared of this man...he looked like what I thought Jesus might look like but he was pure evil...I remember honestly being afraid he might follow me back to Naivasha...the man told me after we got off for me to watch my back because 'that man may do great harm to you.' Nothing came of it and I didn't think much of it until 9/11

Situation 4
Not sure how to say it except just to say it...I was going to go meet some people at the Carnivore...it was the 4th of July and my mom and sister were there with me. They were tired (I think they may have just flown into Nairobi or maybe mom was flying out...not sure)...anyway, they THANKFULLY decided to stay at the flat while I went out to meet some peace corp buddies & some embassy workers. We had been warned not to carry American Ids...not to have anything on us that screamed 'AMERICAN'...I even went so far during this story to even throw in a few 'eys' like I was a Canadian lol.

Long long long unbelievable story short-we ended up getting trapped in 'party' where basically there were Arab men & Kenyan prostitutes. I know...I know...this is stupid & not believable but THANKFULLY...I have people that were there to back me up if you don't believe me . Anyway-I sat down & just tried to play cool-needless to say, the 3 whites were slightly noticeable and slightly out of place...we were there well over an hour-not sure how to get out...not sure how long but this story ends with us finding out that there were numerous discussions about kidnappings that day & that several men in the party were recognized as linked to possible threats against Americans...thank you GOD for my mom and sister not being there...and I apologize for putting them in other hairy situations which they LOVE to talk about :)

SO ... 9/11 ... I was starting to hear names I had heard before...I was starting to hear music in the background of documentaries that I recognized...I was starting to realize that I was so close to evil on so many occasions that I don't know how I made it home in one piece...but it was okay...because I was strong & I was fine.

I remember standing in front of my special ed classroom teaching & the principal announcing what had taken place...my friend/classroom assistant and I just looked at each other in complete disbelief and we took turns leaving the classroom to watch it on tv.

In the weeks to follow-I started learning what everyone else was learning but I was also realizing just how lucky I was. Before I left, Kenya had started to get unsafe-they had moved upper Peace Corp workers down towards my area due to safety concerns...the embassy had sent normal updates with increasing acts against Americans...it all became a little too real with 9/11.

With 9/11 my life started to unravel...slowly but surely...and I honestly didn't even realize what was happening until it was too late...but I promise ALL of this has a silver lining...and no, I am not making any of this up and no, I am not even stretching the truth just a little...if anything, I am keeping the really nasty details to myself.

As I thought about whether or not to share any of this-I realized that I have nothing to be ashamed of...nothing at all. If a potential boss were to read this, I would be okay with it. If a former student were to read this as a 16 year old, while some of it is disturbing & I wouldn't want to expose them to this stuff, I'd be okay with it. If my own kids were to read this, I'd be okay with it...nothing 'really' happened to me-its just how I processed it that gave me issues. I live a very 'good' life...a very 'clean' life and if someone were to ever think less of me, pity me, or whatever because of this, I wouldn't care because quite honestly, I don't need those people in my life anyways...like my defense mechanisms? (to be continued)

Part 2: The Fog

I remember being in a constant fog. I remember crying often but never when people could see me. I remember desperately trying to fake being what I thought was normal.

After all, I lived in America for 22 years-I spent 1 year in Africa so honestly, adjusting should not be this difficult. I decided that I would continue on & jump right back into my 'normal' life & that I would just forget the previous year....I would forget starving faces, the poverty, people dying from Aids, I would forget the smells, the sounds, I would forget the possibility of spotting a giraffe on my morning drive to work, I would forget the fact that I didn't save the world...I would forget it all...I would forget all of it in order to be normal...normal is good.

I remember going to Bi-lo to get something like bread and just standing in front of the aisle & being completely unable to make a decision...there were so many choices-choices I didn't have in the bush. I remember feeling a very overwhelming sense of panic, anger, & just disgust that something so simple was so difficult for me to do...and then I got mad that we HAD so many options...doesn't Bi-Lo know how many people all this food could feed?

I remember going to PC for a game & watching in horror as all these young white girls were wearing short short shorts and I remember honestly staring at their white legs & not being able to get over their lack of modesty.

I also remember thinking, "I don't think I have ever seen so many white people in my life-where are all the black people?" LOL (I have a feeling a few of my readers will appreciate this :)

I remember trying to go shopping for new clothes & looking at the price tag & comparing the cost of a pair of jeans vs. a months salary for the Kenyans.

I remember having conversations with people that I pretended to care about...seriously, I didn't care that the nail tech went up 5 dollars or that brownies had too much fat...I really could have cared less.

I remember moving to Mount Pleasant & wanting to beat the living mess out of all the cute little people that had NO clue what life was like outside of daddy paying for them to live a lifestyle they didn't earn or deserve. (PLEASE don't judge me for this comment-it wasn't their fault-but it was how I felt at the time.)

I remember missing birds so much that I went out and bought my beloved Baringo-my African Grey Parrot.

I remember my mom trying to cheer me up by convincing me to buy a 400 dollar leather elephant...it was 4 feet tall & was on sale for 199...I still have Ellie the Elephant...she made me happy & still does.

I remember trying to dress up to go to church, knowing I would have to fake being happy. I remember zoning out during the choir singing & praying that I would stay seated and not give in to the intense desire to stand up and scream.

I also remember wanting to run away from the crowds of people.

I remember trying to fit in with people my own age & realizing that it just wasn't working. I only had a couple people in my life that I thought understood me-both of which ended up letting me down (lesson-don't put all your eggs in one basket & people let you down-God doesn't.)

I remember looking at clothes & thinking our colors are so bright & unfaded from the sun...I missed seeing all those muted colors.

I remember craving Chai Tea...something I HATED in Africa but drank when offered out of respect for the host/hostess.

I remember being scared of white homeless people in Atlanta but not black homeless people (go ahead and laugh...I am :)

I remember going to a club with a wooden weapon in my purse...a skull cracker & feeling very safe that I could crack your skull if you messed with me...and I promise you, if you had messed with me, I would have used it.

I remember an intense sense of fear come over me if I was out driving and it was about to get dark...I had to remind myself that bandits were not waiting for it to get dark so they could hijack me.

I remember, for a split second, the feeling I felt every time I got a mosquito bite-a fear that I would get malaria.

I remember, for a split second, a feeling of fear every time I tried to drink water out of the tap. I had to remind myself that I don't have to boil this water...I am not going to get sick because I drank it but for a split second, I freaked out.

I remember looking for animals while I was driving down Dorchester Road...one time I thought I saw a lion....I finally accepted that squirrels would have to be the highlight of my day. I looked at deer differently too...they became my Thompson's gazelles...rabbits became my dik-diks (small little deerlike animals)...stray cats became my cheetahs:)

I remember almost EVERY little thing, despite my efforts to forget, reminding me of Kenya & it sucked beyond words. I remember entering into the overwhelming feeling that I messed up by coming home...my heart wasn't here & I wasn't sure if it ever would be. I wanted to ship my family & the people I cared about to Kenya so I could have the best of both worlds....that or I just wanted to dig a hole, lie down in it & just go to sleep so I could turn off the constant thoughts running through my head...and then 9/11 happened.

(to be continued...no telling how many times this will be continued lol)

Part 1: 10 Years: Not Just About 9/11

Well-here I am. It is 7 am, I went to bed a 2 am, and I am wide awake feeling the need to write.

A friend of mine recently shared something pretty publicly that I think in many ways was completely needed for her to move on...to heal...somehow, putting a label on things allows people to address the issue, attack it full force, not hiding behind lies or insecurities. This is why I am writing.

Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of 9-11 & I guess in a way, it has sparked a realization that it has been 10 years since I felt my world was falling apart, 10 years since I felt completely isolated, and 10 years since I was forced to realize that life doesn't always turn out the way you expected to and that prayers aren't always answered in the way you would like to see them answered. I guess in a sense, it was the year I was forced to grow up.

I think in terms of school years. 2001 started in August for me & that is where I will pick up with the story running through my head right now.

I had just stepped off of an airplane after teaching in Kenya for a year...my world was confusing to say the least. I didn't really want to be home...I didn't really know what I wanted my future to look like...and I didn't know who I was anymore. I lost my identity the minute I stepped off that plane. I spent most of that insane journey home fighting off tears-thank GOD my sister was with me (we joke that she came as insurance that I would actually get on the plane and come home lol). Anyway-In my heart, I was going to be Lee Davis-world traveler, adventure seeker, a Mother Teresa out to save the world but when I stepped off that plane...I felt it all slip away & I remember thinking-I have no idea who I am anymore & I don't think I fit in here anymore.

I am not sure I have ever admitted this to anyone but the more I think about it, I was completely lost. I wonder if other people have ever felt that way after doing something that was slightly 'off the normal path' of what we think normal is or should be. Either way, I was lost & had no idea what to do or where to turn. I looked around at all the normal people & I kept thinking, "What have I done? Who have I become? Will I ever be able to think & act like these normal people?" My new normal wasn't what I felt God had called me into and I didn't seem to be adjusting quite the way I thought I should.

At the same time, I was in complete denial that my grandmother's Alzheimer's was where it was. I watched as this beautiful woman that I so wanted to be like just seemed to disappear. I watched as my mom & uncle took care of her & quite honestly I was just flat out pissed that someone so wonderful...someone that gave of herself so unconditionally...someone that didn't deserve to be in her shoes-was in her shoes and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it.

Yes, stepping off that plane, I knew I was entering a new reality that I had somewhat avoided by going to Kenya for year but had I known how that year would unfold the way it did, I swear I might have just stayed far far away. (to be continued)