Mark on calendar

Just want to remind all of you who said they would participate in the Potter's plunge to attend the plunge for Kevin Fitzgerald along with the Chatham firefighters (hope they are hot) on April 1st ..3:30 at Oyster Pond (Chatham). Kevin is a local kid who has a (treatable, they say) type of cancer and we wish him and his family the very best, and support them wholeheartedly. Caleb and I will be jumping! Hope to see you there.

Also...mark down April 16th as a reminder to attend the biggest event of all times. The celebration of the Brain injured and their art show/reception at Harmon Gallery here in Fleet... 5-7pm. I am wearing a gown just to give you an idea of the dress code. I am soooo excited about this. Caleb and Chris have been painting up a storm...and although Caleb is discouraged at times about his sudden lack of talent when before he could paint so easily, I still detect a grin when the paint brush is tucked back in the pot, and he pauses to observe his creation. The act alone is healing. Stay tuned to these pages because I have many surprises coming up... thanks for the loyalty to us. Sharyn and Caleb

I have not visited these pages for some time now. I slipped for awhile into a sad and lonely place only to re-emerge again stronger than before. I am setting my sights on either starting up a residential brain center here (somewhere on the Cape) or at least re-locating so that Caleb's life can be richer and more fulfilled. Memory is no stranger to him and he misses all the activities of his prior "life" and is basically just bored most of the time. Jenny came by and we cried through a good part of her visit..tho it was by all means a lovely connection, and to see her again was rich. I wish her peace.

The art show for brain injured will take place on April 16th if any of you can make it. Caleb has been painting flowers all week, and it is a gentle reminder that my gardens will be in full bloom very soon,looking like his paintings, and reminding me that just when life looks and feels like the dark of winter, a pinch of green strikes through to make me smile again.

One of the perks of not having lived through a tragedy must be sleep- a full night's uninterrupted. I get that phone call in my dream each night once, if not a hundred times, and suddenly I am racing down Long Pond Rd to get to Caleb. I race over and over again as if by trying it many times,I might possibly change the outcome on one of those trips.
Jan, I dream about, we walk, we talk, we ride the range of emotions ...I ask him why?
But most every night I hear Kai's voice loud and clear..Mom ( with the last M drawn out into a humming question...and now I wake fully, expecting to see him at the door, or holding on to the brass rail of the bed searching my eyes and waiting to tell me his sorrowful news. Who is it this time? Lizzie, Max, Lara, or himself?
This is the dredges of an accident happened. I think it the fear that resides in me. Once a tragedy happens, those who experience it know fully that it could strike again.

We are moving forward. I have been working with Caleb's new brain injured group, and it has become the sole purpose of my life. I was able to secure an art opening through the very lovely and generous Tracy Harmon of Harmon Gallery. The boys and De will produce art for their opening in April. We will be doing the Potter's plunge as our annual fundraiser. Since most of these accident victim's do not or cannot work, I feel obliged to find funds for them to enjoy their lives with. And our goal and intention has been set to move Caleb into an independent living situation before the year's end. This last sentence produces a lump in my throat so big that I cannot form words...but I know it is time for Caleb, and in truth, time for me to get on with my own life that has been put on hold for the past 3 years.
So most days are filled with smiles and hope, most days are lined up with goals for the future, most days are heavy on the positive;
but I am certain I will wake to the call of Kai again tonight around one.

Fundraising

Just wanted to follow up on all of you who donated to my young friend, either with kind words and thought ( which is more powerful than we can know) or those of you who were able to send checks. Through a mutual friend I was able to sneak a wrapped package into her Christmas tree with $800.00 cash in it...and then collected $1000.00 more which arrived after Christmas and was sent off to her by bank check. Thank you all so very much. You should now realize what I have learned...sending a card of admiration, sending a meaningful gift, sending anything off with anonymity and with no thought of a thank you in return is the best gift you will ever give! It is giving in it's purest form. Thank you helping me with this!

I have been inspired to concentrate my efforts and energy and will host an annual fundraiser to help my new group of brain injured. My desire is to help provide them with richer lives. The first annual Potter plunge will take place on April Fools day (in honor of Jan) at Long Pond. Hot chocolate and a warm stove to thaw out is to follow at my place. Anyone who wants to donate to the cause and to be honored for their efforts by jumping in with a Potter can join in. ( Max is wearing a wet suit he says).
Funds will go directly to my little team of 4 brain injured friends from Truro to Orleans. Caleb - injured in a skateboarding accident, Chris..an art student who fell down a flight of stairs, David; oxygen deprived from birth, Todd a famous bike racer who crashed. We will include my young lady friend when she is ready.
So dig out those musty old bathing suits...or not! We look forward to seeing you! Perhaps literally! Mark it on your calendars! I'll keep you posted.

Spudly was dignified till the end.... shook his head and insisted on standing even after the vet administered the shot which should have taken him down.
I was impressed.

My friend Anne passed this to me to read to the boys while we buried him.
Old dogs have stood the test of time and event and circumstance. They come now slowly, and lay at the foot or close to side, jowls flat, eyes faded with fog of cataract, their muzzles and paws white or speckled salt and pepper. But they come. They want to be close. They are great treasures, these old dogs. For they are more than themselves lying there. They are us.

Christmas was wonderful in spite of our loss...we decided it that way..we chose it...to laugh, to smile at each other,to hold dearly and tightly that which has come to mean the most...just us being together.
Caleb continues to impress; just like his old dog. He fights each day to re-gain some sort of understanding. He remembers more. He laughs louder and more often.
He too is a fighter.
I will remember how he beat the odds when I am low, how he smiled when he was tethered to his bed, and I will shake my head and insist on standing when I feel I can't do this anymore. These are the lessons I walk away with,.................... and I walk, and I walk, and I walk.


Blessings to all of you in the year to come.

Max and I were sitting outside on the back stoop looking out over the property...he was seven. A friend of mine drove up, parked in the side yard and walked toward us with 7 puppies gathered at his ankles, running around his legs yapping away. I remember leering at him..knowing that he knew... and I knew that we would end up with a puppy that day.
Max was thrilled when I told him he could choose one. We carefully studied each of them. I had my hopes set on a blonde.. but one dark little guy had the smarts enough to crawl up behind Max and take a bite. Max decided that the puppy chose him...and there was Spud...named by a friend who thought he looked like a fat little potato.

Tomorrow we put him down. The decision had to be made.
Like an old friend..Spud and I have traveled far and wide together. We have walked most of Wellfleet; crazy long walks especially after my separation, Jan's death, Caleb's accident. He helps me to think clearly; to calm myself by just following his footsteps as he bravely trudges forward with no judgments or opinion. He has been my friend.
My sons love him dearly and rub his head while silently whispering their individual love song to him, all the while knowing that tomorrow they will dig the hole he will be placed in.

And like an old friend..I have been annoyed at him at times, have scolded him, have been bothered by him and have ignored him too....but when the time comes when you know you will never be in the presence of that being again...your heart breaks with the thoughts of all that you should have said, could have said, or could have done.

Now the interesting part to me is that I am a trained farm girl..we don't get attached to animals..they only serve a purpose on the farm...but I can't seem to stop crying. Perhaps it is finally the flood that had to be held back with Caleb, the tangled deluge that was not allowed with Jan.

Spud..Thank you for allowing me to let go of all the things I have held so tightly in... as always, you are my ally. Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

Christmas

I love Christmas. I love the smell, the feel, the doing,the action verb of Christmas. I like the decorating; to please the eye, the wrapping; to please the mind, the music; to soothe the soul. Perhaps if we were all this busy being kind and thinking about ways we could make a difference to someone else all year round, the world would change.
On that note, I have collected 600.00 for my young friend and have been able to send a thank you to all but two- Lou Roy who is a stellar woman...and a truly anonymous donor who tucked money into my mailbox without a note. Thank you. all you lovely ones who sent your hearts desires. I know for fact that money is not the end all when you are under intense duration...but sometimes it really just does help...if for no other reason than to allow yourself to know that someone out there is aware of you, and cares!
I spend my days listening to the coming and goings of major trucks now on my silent little road. The new owners?... People with big money who research properties to find loopholes in titles and then win big in court. They rape the land that was so tender and dear...so fragile and clear in it's intention to be simple and country. This has brought me around to contemplating the spirit of life and it's meaning to me. Now, if I could take back time I would only ask for the simple things in life..not the fancy cars, not the properties in tandem...but for the God intentioned things which we expect to be the norm. Life...and a smile, and simplicity. Sons and daughters who like to be together because their parents have nurtured this in them...family, family this is it!
If I sat in Santas' lap today I would beg, with teary, big blue eyes ...for a brain that returns, for an ex- husband to be here on Christmas day, no matter what our differences....I would ask for a smile that is genuine because I now know how life can turn on a dime and be different and trying each and every day...Know what you have, count on your fingers the moments in a day that you have joy, and if you don't have it; find pieces of it in your discontent..it is always there behind a shadow of doubt.

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.

I must have walked by that B bus parked at Stop and Shop a thousand times over the course of the years, and never paid it any attention till today. I went searching for it, payed Caleb's fare and off he went independently to school. Now let me explain a little about the emotions I continuously go through in these situations....elation for one, knowing that Caleb is even able to do this, anger because this trip which usually takes 40 min from door to door will now take 1hr and 45 min because of all the stops....and these are disabled people riding this bus. Helplessness knowing that he will have to find his way to the classroom that he could not remember the last 3 times I drove him...and so then how will he find the bus coming back? Tenderness for the fragility of life that most people walk around not even aware of. Of course as I walked Caleb to the opened door, a young mother and tow headed little boy passed by reminding me, like a long, low punch in the gut, that I too was once full of wonder and contentment about all 3 of my sons, proud and smiling, walking unaware. It is a push/pull, tug of war in my heart almost every moment of the day. Blessings that we are still here to witness it, but shredded at the corners, and a bit tattered in our hearts.

Caleb's first day at college, and my stomach was rolled tighter than a joint!
So I sat with my back to the "real" world outside the cafeteria where all the students stood fashionably dressed, flirting and trading high fives, and watched Caleb and his new gang walk by, unnoticed. But I noticed that simultaneously two worlds could collide and smile and move forward, find new friends and find themselves, each at their own pace. So I sat (as I did when Caleb first went off to preschool) by the window and watched with trepidation, worry and concern till he turned towards me with the biggest grin on his face, and laughter in his eyes. And just as I did when he went off alone at age six, full of excitement and full of promise ....I wept.

CBS

For those of you who looked for us on Wed. morning show- we were bumped for the lady who got attacked by the monkey. "Breaking news" they called it. Otherwise I could have claimed that I was on the morning show with Michael Douglas and the President! I will let you know when they might be airing again, but then again, I could get bumped for a gorilla riding cowboy! Go figure.
We are well. Caleb was accepted, and will begin college classes in September. Project Forward is a spin-off from the Community College and accepts disabled persons into life teaching skills classes. I am thrilled for him, although his complaining sounds just like he did when he was 7. " School again?"

computer crash

Sorry - I have been out of commission with a broken computer. Funny how life comes to a halt without our newest toys around.
I finally held Caleb's yard sale last week and we made an amazing $5000.00...much more than I ever expected. Thanks to all who donated and to those who purchased. So now I am on the look-out for a ride which will transport Caleb and friends to different events. We are well on our way to a different kind of life.
If any of you chance to see it- we will be on CBS's early morning show this Wed. talking about life with TBI.
Kai just took off for burning man in Nevada..a badly deeded and well deserved break, Max is holding down the fort with me. Aunt Carol has been a life-saver this summer, taking Caleb for many spells so I could have some down time. I am looking forward to the fall with new energy and happier outlooks. With three years time under my belt, life does seem to collect itself and dishes out small pleasures...but pleasures non the less.....and I am living still in no mans land..but surviving.

I am grateful for the rain that fell last evening. It's refreshing and reminds me of why I love this Earth...the smells, the birds, the flowers laden with moisture and bending in a bow to me as I walk down the garden aisles and pass them this morning. Caleb had his first week of being back on the tides, and I imaging his elation feels to him like the rain feels to me. He has come home from digging with his brothers and Richard feeling hungry and so very tired, but the look on his face reminds me of the Old Caleb, and speaks to me of how very clearly he is still in there.
I wonder why sometimes that we were singled out to have this new life we have, why Caleb had to transform into someone new, why my smile does not reach the corners that it used to. There have been many a days where I could not fault Jan for leaving us in the way that he did...I too have come to understand that bottomless pit feeling, but on mornings like this I am glad that I am still here to witness miracles...even if they are just the beauty of a rainfall, or the smile on Caleb's face which is as brilliant as the sun that warms me.. Blessings

It has been three years now since that phone call came that catapulted me into the pit of despair that I have been diligently climbing out of ever since. It has transformed my little family of four into new people, hardly recognizable to me sometimes. There is a yawning gap between who we were, and who we have become, and are still becoming because of Caleb's accident. I am ever so proud of the boys and how they have handled responsibilities flung at them from all corners, accepted a mom who has been nothing short of distant at times, and have found peace with a father who resides now in their memories.
As I sat across the breakfast table from Caleb this early morning, I raised my coffee cup to his orange juice in a toast. " Caleb, your dignity through these past three years has been nothing short of miraculous. I am so happy that you determined to fight instead of giving up. I love that I am holding a warm hand, because it could have been so easily a cold body that I was touching for the last time. Thank you for being so brave."
A cloud shadowed his eyes making his face look ominous, clandestine.
Then he raised his glass higher and after a pregnant pause replied " Mom, I am trying to eat my breakfast"

Life goes on....and on...and on.

Happy fourth of July.