Bionic Blessings

(Updated August 26, 2015)

June 16th, 2014 goes down as one of my all time favorite days. One I will never forget! 

The Bionic Walk

Years ago, one of my kids said "MS has taken away my mom's legs." Up until the last couple of years, lack of function was limited to my right leg. I was using an electronic device made by Bioness to lift my right foot. It became apparent that my left foot also needed one. There was also a thigh cuff that would help. But they cost $5,000+ each. What’s a girl to do? In a moment of weakness, I posted something on Facebook but then I quickly removed it. In that brief moment a friend from our lacrosse community saw it. She messaged me that she wanted to spearhead a fundraiser. I was surprised, humbled and grateful.

Little did I know, there were several other moms getting in on it. I had people coming up to me at lacrosse games and giving me hugs saying “we’re going to get those bionic legs!” Their goal was to purchase both devices. I was grateful for the effort and would have been happy if they raised $500! They called it The Bionic Walk and soon the event took on a life of its own.

Our local high school, Lassiter High School, fully supported the event. They gave full access to the stadium, provided supplies and the clean up. Lassiter PTA sent out E-news announcements. LHS mens and ladies lacrosse programs and local lacrosse clubs supported the event. Local businesses, Lassiter Cheer, coaches, players, my Sunday school class, my bike team and friends also supported the event. An Atlanta Falcons football player autographed and donated a football. And there was an online fundraiser for those folks who weren't able to be there. It was an amazing community event with a cake walk, a bake sale, face painting, the actual one mile fun walk, a silent auction, a food truck, and a father / son lacrosse game that was a blast. I saw old friends and new coming together to show support.

I had so much fun and often forgot that it was for me! We are blessed to live in such a great community.

Nearing the finish at the Bionic Walk.

Thank you to all of the volunteers and folks who supported the Bionic Walk. The Bionic Walk raised well over $17,000! It's been the gift that keeps on giving. Besides the new Bioness devices, I purchased a special exercise machine, new canes and months of therapeutic massage. I use the Bioness devices every day while walking around my house and for short distances. I'm not sure what I would do without them. Unfortunately, it became clear that I also needed an electronic wheelchair. I had (and still have) an old scooter but it was time to crossover into regular use of a wheelchair. Funds from the Bionic Walk paid the deductible for my new wheelchair. The remaining funds will go towards upkeep and supplies for the Bioness devices.

These are the fabulous ladies who made it all happen. 

A demo showing off my new devices. 

I was invigorated and energized by the love and support. I was hoping for new “bionic” legs but what I got were mountains of Bionic Blessings!

iMessage from Heaven

My beautiful mother years ago in front of her home in Inman Park.

My Mom passed away just over a year ago. I haven’t been able to write since. I wasn’t as close to my mother as I would have like to have been, but we were as close as we could be and I loved her dearly. Mom struggled with paranoid schizophrenia. Although her life was often very sad, she remained functional, independent, funny and kind.

She lived tucked away in her childhood home in Inman Park, Atlanta. We visited as often as possible and every few years I could talk her into letting me bring her to my house for a visit. One of those times was the Christmas before she passed away. It was pouring down rain in Atlanta when I drove down to get her. She was soaking wet by the time she got to the car. She had been walking with a limp for the last couple of years. When we "hobbled" together we made for quite a display of grace. We couldn't help but chuckle. It was hard for her to make that visit. I thanked her profusely for coming and I told her how much it meant to me, knowing that I would never ask that much of her again. I will always treasure that visit.

Growing up with a mother who questioned my identity and heard the FBI walking on our roof was often scary. There are so many stories I could share, and maybe someday I will. Of course, there were a lot of funny stories, too. I like to remember those. My sister did a beautiful job of sharing some of those funny stories in Mom's eulogy. Please see my previous blog to read that tribute to Mom. 

We often can’t help but to recreate what we know. At a fairly young age, I recall being aware that things weren't right at home. I knew who I was and I knew those were squirrels running across the roof (not the FBI). When I was 11, my parents divorced and, soon after, my father became a psychologist. Not surprisingly, therapy and processes of becoming self-aware became an important part of my family life.

That’s not to say I’m an example of stability and sanity. Lord knows I am not!  As a mom, I often get carried away and have been guilty of over-parenting, or over-compensating trying to create a "better life" for my kids. How crazy is that? In an effort to avoid "crazy" we often create another "crazy."  Every article addressing the woes of “helicopter parenting” might as well be written directly about me! Gosh, there isn’t a perfect formula. Well, maybe there is, but I sure haven’t found it. My Mom did the best she could and at the end of the day, that’s what I have done. We're all imperfect, we're all works in progress and we love in the best way we know how to love.

Every once in a while I pull out my iPhone and listen old voicemails from my Mom. One message is a couple of minutes long as she describes being attacked on her front porch by yellow jackets. She was so funny and boisterous and descriptive. I felt like I was there. I miss Mom’s 6AM phone calls where she was just calling to check in. I miss how she always sounded like she was on the verge of laughter. Thankfully, I have those messages on my phone. It’s like a little iMessage from Heaven, reminding me she’s not really that far away. 

Remembering Mom

Mom passed away July 31, 2013. The Memorial Service was on August 24, 2013. It's taken a year for me to be able to write about this. We had a nice gathering of friends and family with beautiful music at my church in Marietta, Georgia. I think Mom would have loved it and would have been quite surprised. Below is a beautiful tribute written by my sister Betsy. Rest in Peace Mom. I miss you so very much.

My Mom – Eulogy for Memorial Service on August 24, 2013

I learned most of what I needed to know about life as a little girl in the backseat of a metallic pine green, 1972 Ford Maverick being chauffeured by my mother. For me, the Maverick was freedom. Climbing in signaled the start of an adventure into the world outside of home. It took us to parks, schools, churches, stores, and libraries. The Maverick was ice cream and grand parents, books and swimming pools, the Jackson 5 and CocaCola. And always, mom was in the driver’s seat. As you know, we’re here to remember her. She’s the real maverick in this story.

I was reminded of this when I spoke to my brother Cliff after our mom's passing. The term “maverick” is applied to those who are fiercely independent and those who defy convention. My mother was a maverick because that’s how she lived. If my brother, Cliff, were standing here, I think he would tell you, like he told me, that mom was a force to be reckoned with. She thought freely and read voraciously. She did whatever she wanted and she said whatever she wanted, and she was all the more charming for it. Cliff would also describe our mom’s deep faith and the rules that she simply wouldn't break, like “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

He might also tell you that, as a cook, my mom was especially unconventional. When mom stepped into the kitchen, she stepped boldly where no man had even gone before. Her techniques were innovative; her flavor profiles imaginative, and the results were simply astounding – astounding, confounding, and sometimes horrific. With great love, at holiday meals she offered up Manischewitz wine and cool glasses of V8, sauerkraut chocolate cake, fruit cocktail-filled hamburger, homemade holiday fruitcakes, and recreated dinner menus from 1970s cookbook photographs. Our mom, she could steam a ham, and biscuits.

My sister, Marjorie, she would share stories of mom’s enormous heart and generous, loving spirit. She would tell you about the plastic gloves and garbage bags that mom stored in the trunk of the Maverick. Mom used these as an emergency burial kit for animals that had been struck by cars because she just couldn’t bear the thought of any harm coming to animals. My sister would also tell you that if our mom only had two dimes she would give them both to you.

Marjorie would also tell you that she'll miss all of the little thoughtful and funny things our mother did. In recent years, our mom was homebound. Still, she was immensely proud of being grandmother to Galen, Benjamin, and Sarah and staid connected, mostly by mail. Mom loved to write letters. Each one was like a puzzle, filled with multiple notes and newspaper clippings that could be pieced together to tell a full story. She’d send heartfelt and lovely gifts, and she gave gifts intended to cultivate our better natures or a sense of culture and history, like the 2,000-page book of Scottish chieftains that she gave Galen when he was eight years old. He’s still working on that. And, it was not unlikely for mom to send a thank you card for a thank you card.

Me, I'll tell you that, on the matter of our mother, everything my older brother and sister say is correct. I’d also like to share how playful my mom could be. She was funny and no stranger to joy and delight. She loved to surprise us. I would tell you about Christmas 1976 – the greatest Christmas of my life -- when I found a kitten, Dixie T. Thomas, hidden in her closet. On Christmas morning, she zipped the kitten up, inside of her brown terry cloth jumpsuit to surprise me. And, she did. Dixie broke free and crawled around her body, causing her to collapse in laughter on the living room floor. I would tell you how much she loved Chanel No. 5, ginger candy, and her music -- which ranged from show tunes to Doris Day, Louis Prima and Keely Smith, and Carol King. Often, if she forgot the lyrics to an old song, she would call Marjorie to retrieve them from the Internet, print them out, and send them to her.

Lastly, I'll tell you this: my mother was born June Rembert Kremser in Charleston, South Carolina. That’s not an insignificant fact. If this is new information to you, remember it. She was a homesick Charlestonian who spent most of her life in exile, living in Atlanta. Mom, as you wish, we will take you home.

My mother knew life was amazing, and she taught us this. She also taught us love, empathy, curiosity, wonder, respect, kindness, and humor. Mom, we love you so much and wish we had more time together. We will cherish all of the great memories and let you continue to drive us where we need to go. We'll even miss your cooking.