Never to be underestimated....the power of words. Never to be belittled..the kind gesture, or pat on the back; never to be taken for granted...the smile of someone who cares. Always a lovely surprise to have a former policeman stop traffic to let me know he read my post.. stopping traffic as he encourages me to stay strong. Thank you for helping to pull me through..all you gentle, heroic giants out there. You along with that the powerfully resonating words of my mother. " When you are down..just find someone to help who is worse off than you are." ( OH, wise woman that you were! ) And they can always be found; those whose lives are falling behind and unnoticed.
So I placed my attentions and intentions on a young girl who is going through the same Brain Injury process as Caleb here on the Cape. She was a passenger in a car accident...She is petite and smart and was active and lively...she now is confined to a wheel chair, keeps her head and eyes bent toward the ground. Barely speaks. Her mother is a single mom who works at least 10 hours a day...so her daughter sits alone most days at home trying I imagine, to remember what went wrong..and why her. She is 17 after all.
She reminds me of the Sexton girl; fair haired, soft and beautiful, so much promise..it could have just as easily been her.
I remember speaking to you about random acts of kindness...those things we do without any thanks, or even acknowledgment...and so this holiday season I am trying on a new hat. I am now a philanthropist..and guess what..you are too. I wish to help this young lady in the worst way...so I will be taking from Caleb's generous amount of fundraising dollars and paying it forward.
I realized something very valuable in this process...I have it all! I am healthy, Caleb still smiles, Kai and Max are glued to my side when needed...I have my strong women friends, I have my silent, sturdy male friends. I have Aunt Carol, Uncle Ray and the rest of my blood in Ohio. I have you! I have love...and I have learned to love me. I am indeed in the lifeboat...but I am still singing!
So I am not accustomed to asking for help- but I am doing it now. I would ask that any of you who still want to help us, and I know there are many..to pay it forward to my young, dear friend who needs it more...much more! If you send checks to a favorite charity for the holidays; please consider this one.
Spend some of what my mother always referred to as your "moldy money"..and pass it along.
I know I am begging...but those of you who have not lived through this, who still have your healthy children heading off to college, expecting a baby, saying their first words, having their first heartbreak...you ..you who have that ....still have it all!
I am taking liberties here..but help if you can. I don't want to breach confidentiality...so you're going to have to trust me on this one.... please make a check out to me..Sharyn Lindsay...I will put it into an account and collect it to be sent anonymously for Christmas...believe me..if you can spare only one dollar -- it will count!

Now in parting ..another word from another wise mother" I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."
Mother Teresa. Humanitarian.


45 Sapokonish Wellfleet Ma 02667people

OK... so no words in a while. I feel as if I am a skipping record...good, then bad, good, then bad, and good again...skip. skip. skip..and then bad. I am frustrated, happy to be alive, frustrated, yet at the same time happy to watch a sunset, a then once again..... frustrated to be here again...a woman who is not any longer who she thought herself to be. I am the white bread existence of the formerly full grain bread kind of healthy person who I used to be. Life is no longer the picnic it used to be. And I must sound like a skipping record which begins to bore you, and even me... a slowly played over version stuck in grove..almost trying to convince you to toss me to the garbage pile where I belong. .... I recall this same experience as a young mother who could talk of nothing but my stunning young children ..till I noticed no-one was listening ...to the older more mature woman who noticed, once again that no-one wanted to hear of my old, sad tales of my woe-begone marriage...to now, where everyone wants to hear only of Caleb's fore-ward movements ( which are still happening) , but miss the stuckendess of where he really resides. I am a mixed bags of emotions which can not be described in 50 words or less. I am lonely and sorry....in spite of my new found mood elevators....and just plain ole missing Caleb.