I once had to babysit for a family friend. I was about 12 years old.
The mom of the baby was recently split from her husband. It was a relationship that did not end well.
The only apartment that the mom could afford was in a very high crime neighborhood.
The fact that I was alone with a sleeping baby, in a scary neighborhood, afraid the dad was going to come breaking into the house at any moment… was a recipe for possible disaster.
The apartment was on the second floor and it had these special alarms on the door locks that made a weird chirpy noise if someone tried to break in.
The fact that I was babysitting in an apartment that HAD to have such devices was scary to begin with…..
I checked on the baby every so often.
The apartment had a pull out sofa that turned into a bed. I sat on that and watched TV.
I turned up the TV pretty loud. Loud enough to not hear creepy noises that would freak me out and enough that it would not wake up the baby.
I closed all of the blinds tightly. I mean, I REALLY turned that plastic mini blind stick as tightly as I could…
The time went soooo slow.
This was a new apartment for the mom and I had not ever been there before. When I agreed to babysit I had no idea her apartment was on this dangerous street. I had no idea it was going to feel so scary.
All I will say is the apartment was in midtown Kingston. This street is known for break-ins, murders, and drug arrests.
Well, here I am … 12 years old…. Trying to be a brave little babysitter. I was trying to really get into the TV show I had on to distract me from my fear..
After a while, I started to notice there was a red light that kept blinking between the cracks of the mini-blinds in the living room.
Oh great… another thing to make me nervous… I pretended it wasn’t there. I looked away.. towards the TV.
That blinking light seemed to have moved a bit and was brighter at times… and then softer at other times.
I really didn’t want to know what that light was. Based on the way the light was shining and blinking, it was definitely coming from outside.
I was way too scared to go to the window and see what the heck it was.
Over an hour had gone by and that light just would not stop blinking..
Finally, I convinced myself,……..I should say… I forced myself… into having a moment of bravery….
I walked over to the window,… I leaned in towards the window,… I took one little horizontal plastic blind strip, and I slowly moved it enough to see out the window…
You will not believe what I saw… You will not believe what that light was !!!
It turns out…
The building that sat caddy corner to the apartment house that I was in….was burning.
Up in flames. Fire engines everywhere, hoses, black smoke. The whole gammit..
The red lights that were shining though the mini blinds were the spinning fire engine lights.
Can you believe it?
The house across the street was on fire, like fully engulfed… and I didn’t even realize it!!
I later learned that no one was hurt in the fire…. I think it was an abandoned house that no one lived in.
The mom eventually came home and I made it out of there safely…. and with a new story to tell.
It was definitely a night I won’t ever forget.
I don’t think the mom stayed living in that apartment very long. So I never had to go back to that apartment again….
What I remember most about her , back then, was that she was very small in stature , soft spoken , and had a very calm heir about her ….
When I was a kid, I didn’t know her all that well.
My older siblings knew her better. I was the youngest of 5. She had children more closer to my older siblings’ ages. When I was born, all of her children (my cousins) were a lot older than me. I only just knew her as Aunt VIV who talks to my mom on the phone every so often.
She was married to my mom’s brother, Uncle George. Uncle George died in 1991. He was a soft spoken man who worked for IBM much of his adult life.
As a kid, I remember seeing Aunt Viv only a few times per year, if that. Back in the 70s and 80s, when I was growing up, people mostly “visited” or spoke on the phone. I think my parents communication with relatives was usually a random phone call.
I later learned that my Mom, Dad, Aunt, and Uncle were all very close “back in the day”..They just got busy with life as time went on.. But kept in touch to catch up every so often ..
Aunt Viv only lived about a mile away from my childhood home .
I wanted to write about Aunt Viv because she had a special gift.
She went through a lot of heart ache as an adult.
She had 4 children.
One of her 4 children, named Doreen, died in 1961. She was only 8 years old. Doreen died from complications from spinal meningitis. I can’t imagine what it is like to lose a child in such a way.
Then, another sad situation .., In 1988.. Her son, Gary, died tragically in a car crash in Cortland, NY (near Syracuse). Gary was only 41. His 13 year old daughter, Sarah, was also in the car. Sarah was also killed .
And so, Aunt Vivian lost a son and a granddaughter in that car crash. Sadly, the accident was a result of a drunk driver ..driving recklessly though an intersection.
You will see the picture below of the grave stone website for my cousin, Gary, and the note on the left is so sad ……”killed by drunk driver”.
Can you imagine what she had endured ? She lost a total of 2 of her own children and 1 beautiful teenaged granddaughter … That’s just awful and heartbreaking . Yet she continued to carry on …
When Aunt Vivian died in 2004, I went to her funeral. I loved how so many people volunteered to go to the podium of the church to tell their own story of how special Aunt Viv was to them.
One very important piece of information you need to know about her is that she was one of the original founders of “Hospice” here in Ulster County. Many people spoke about that at her funeral.
Hospice.!!…. Of course !!…She knew how to help people who were in the dying process and she knew how to help the family members with their grief. She had been through the grief process more than she cared to be, I’m sure.
I had my own story of Aunt Viv to tell, and wanted so bad to walk “up front” at her funeral to tell the story, but I just couldn’t do it .. Too difficult …
Here’s the story I wanted to tell …..
My mother. May, 1994. She was dying….She was lying in the intensive care unit in the hospital. She was on lots of morphine to help her be comfortable. She battled cancer and went through all she could handle.. The chemo and radiation and the sickness took its toll along with the cancer that spread though her body.
My dad and us 5 kids had never seen this before. Seeing your wife and mother suffer terribly. Lying there, breathing her last breaths ..looking like a person we don’t even know. Moaning.. Bloated stomach, tubes, wires. beeping machines, It was scary… It was sad. It was uncomfortable. It was unfamiliar.
So, the only person who really knew how to “take the wheel”, so to speak, was Aunt Vivian.
She went into that I.C.U. hospital room. She brought her soft spoken , calm , little self and she sat down next to my mom and she worked her magic. . She sat next to my mom and held her hand .. She said all the right things. “Are you scared?”,” It’s ok to “let go””, “Look out the window .. and look at the beautiful sky and clouds”, pointing out beautiful things around her….. ..My mom deserved that ..She so needed that ..
..Aunt Viv was way more familiar and way more comfortable then the 6 of us were.
Then……the story continues…….
Mom died on May 8th, 1994 (Just hours after aunt vivs final visit I just spoke about ). I was the last child still living at home. My Dad had to learn a lot of things. And, so I spent time with him. Showed him how to use the wash machine and dryer, write out a check, keep a check book, keep up with the mail and bills… Stuff like that. .He was a great sport and learned all of that. LIKE A CHAMP.. His grocery lists became so organized and his routine became great.
After that got all squared away… … It was time for me to leave.
During my moms last months of life, I had been busy filling out all of the paperwork… Getting ready to go away to college.
In September, I moved to Albany to go to college.
I just lost my mom and then I left my dad home to live alone. I was glad that I was only an hour north. And I was glad my siblings lived near him. He also had many great neighbors and all of his “mall walkers club” friends. Dad did well without me. But, still, that did not take away the guilt.
I found myself living in a dorm with other students who were a few years younger then me. Most of them have never lost a parent and did not understand what I had gone though. Heck, they didn’t know me at all… Only my roommate and few floormates knew my fragile situation.
My grief started taking a toll on me.
I found myself sleeping A LOT. So much that I would fall asleep when I got home from class in the afternoon, and woke up the next morning with my clothes from the day before still on. I only woke up because I knew I had to treck to class. I procrastinated with my school work.
Another thing…. I had a meal card at college….. Which allowed for me to go to the cafeteria and eat anything ,anytime I wanted. I ate and ate. Nothing filled me up. I think I was trying to fill that void.
I look back now…. and it was obvious ….I was depressed.
I walked around that campus feeling like I did not fit in, my heart was heavy, I felt guilty, I felt sad, and I was getting super fat.. ….Just stating the facts.
All my days were difficult, especially those first few months.
This is where Aunt Vivian’s “gift” comes into the picture., again….
One day, I suffered though going to all my classes on campus… It was a sub zero cold winter day. That SUNY campus was always bone chilling cold and wind-y. I am not a winter person.
That day, in particular, I felt especially broken and cold and unhappy….
So, I finally made it back to my dorm building, …thawing off from the bitter cold.. And I will never forget what happened next..
I walked into my dorm room. My roommate was there. Her name was Kristen.
She said to me “There’s a message for you …”. She points to a yellow sticky note that she had stuck to the corner of my T.V.
I looked at the square, yellow sticky note… I will NEVER forget what that note said.
It said ….
“Your Aunt Vivian called. ….. She wanted to let you know that she was thinking about you….She said you didn’t have to call her back”…
(She didn’t leave her phone number)..
Those were the sweetest words I had ever read. She KNEW.. !!! At that moment.
She hardly knew me. I hardly knew her… But she KNEW !!! At that very time in my life, I needed that phone call and that note.
Her kind gesture changed me. She obviously knew me more than I realized . And at that moment ..I suddenly knew her well !!<3
A person so in-tuned to grief…..helped me.
She never knew how special that note was. I never called her back. She never left her number. She knew that note was plenty…. I didn’t need to talk to her. That note WAS our conversation.
Needless to say, I pinned that sticky note up to my message board and kept it there for the rest of the school year.
Things got way better for me after that.
I eventually got my life back and felt in control, again.
When I had to pack up my dorm and move all my stuff back home for the summer. I remember I left that note on my cork message board and placed it in my bedroom back at my Dad’s house. Every time I walked past that note, I thought of Aunt Viv and thanked God for her.
I had saved that sticky note for a long time..But, now, I can’t find it …
But, I will always have a snapshot of it in my memory. ALWAYS…
———-
An added note – My friend sent me a text , after reading this story … To inform me that I “Aunt Viv”ed her once !… So, maybe the gift has been passed on to me !! I hope so !!
Read this info in the picture below… It lists all the people in Viv’s family that I just mentioned……
My name is Colleen, and I love sharing stories about people…. I believe “Everybody has a story”…
This is Jim and here is his story.
I first got to know Jim in a parking lot.
Yes, in a parking lot of my favorite grocery store.
Jim works at Hannaford Supermarket.
You see….He spends a lot of time outside of the store,…. in the parking lot,… wearing a reflective vest,…. collecting grocery carts.
In the winter, Jim collects the grocery carts in the most awesome hat, ever… He wears one of those warm and fuzzy hats that has the fold-down ear covers….It’s so fitting for him….!!
This may sound silly, …but,.. a parking lot is a great place for Jim to spend much of his work day.
You know why???
Because I learned, very quickly after meeting Jim, that he loves everything about cars.
Jim knows A LOT about cars… I mean A LOT !!
Jim is a very friendly guy. He always has something to talk about to the customers who pull up… He will say “That’s a great color (car),…. I love the sparkle in that paint they used, .. The engine in your car is amazing…”…. Things like that….
He can tell you from memory .. random facts about::::….The year of a vehicle, the make and model, the engine size and description, the design, the year they changed the design, etc..
I don’t know much about cars, but every time I pull into the parking lot at Hannafords, I learn something new.
When I pulled up in my new Volvo, last April…..There was Jim, noticing it right away… “Hey”, he said “You should have waited, they are changing the design to look different in next year’s model.” That’s just one example of how our many car conversations started happening.
Another cute story about Jim…. He’s been working at Hannafords since 2006. We became parking lot buddiess right around then. From 2006 until just last year in 2014 , Jim thought my name was CHRISTINE…. I got used to him calling me that name. I never corrected him.
Because I have a large family, I shop at Hannaford’s about 4 times a week. So, I got conditioned ..Up to 4 times a week, pulling up in my car, I always knew if I heard “Hi Christine”, that it was Jim wanting to chat.
I don’t know what happened, but he suddenly realized that my name was actually Colleen. I was sort of disappointed when he corrected himself… I actually loved being Christine. It was me and Jim’s “thing”…
I got thinking….. Jim is such a bright guy… He knows so much about cars and is so darn friendly…. I needed to know his “back story”….
I never knew his last name until yesterday.
I never was his Facebook friend until yesterday..
I just learned that Jim is from a small town nearby. Rifton, NY… He graduated from one of the best PRIVATE High Schools in this area… OUR LADY OF LORDES….. He went on to a local community college, then on to get his bachelors degree in Industrial Design from Kean University in New Jersey.
Jim just sent me the link to his website… (I will share at the end of this story).
I read through his website.. and learned so much..
He draws and sketches AMAZING photographs of vehicles. Mostly classic ones. You HAVE to check it out.
I learned that he was featured in the most recent issue of Antique Cars magazine. (The article is on his website)
I also learned that he illustrates, designs, and sells his drawings..
Here’s the “everybody has a story” part to his story ..
Jim did not have it easy as a child. When he was 4 DAYS old he had open heart surgery.. Which lead to a blood infection. The doctors didn’t think he would ever be able to use his right arm. This lead to speech and coordination therapy. As an adolescent he had a learning disability called dysgraphia (a disability to write) and had problems with visual spacial processing..
What? Can you imagine, he overcame these disabilities and became the guy that draws these detailed designs (see photo below)….
I am blown away !!!
He took those “short falls”, worked though them, and now he’s got this amazing talent in visual art….
GO JIM !!!
I contacted Jim through Facebook inbox messaging to get some info from him since he agreed to let me feature him on BEING HACK.. In the message I sent Jim, I asked him this question.. “Do you ever feel discouraged….?”
Here’s what he wrote:
Hi Colleen,
Once and a while I feel discouraged. It’s usually when I feel like I did all that hard work of drawing, then lose a sale.
Most of the time I keep on humming along, being my chipper self.
Also, please use my current Facebook profile picture in your story. That “selfie” photo is how I present myself to the world.
How can you not just LOVE this guy !!? I learned a lot more than I thought I would about Jim by writing this story.
Just another reminder that you need to stop and just be nice to somebody …and listen to them. Remind them about how awesome they are !
If you ever shop at Hannaford on Ulster Avenue in Kingston, NY… Look for Jim. He will talk your ear off about cars… and that is so refreshing to me… Hannaford is lucky to have him.
Thanks for letting me do this story about you, Jim .. I am so proud to be your friend.
I always remember her to be very friendly and very popular.
Her name, to me, was always “CHRISSY HUBER”
I got to know her better when she and I had daughters in the same nursery school… back in 2003 or so. Our daughters also danced at the same dance studio. Our girls were very cute together and they even had a few “play dates”.
I remember Christine would often have her mother in the car with her when it was time for nursery school pick-up. It was obvious she was very close with her mom.
Christine lives in the same small town in which she was born and raised. (Port Ewen, NY)
She is happily married and has 3 gorgeous kids.
I eventually became Facebook friends with Christine back in 2008.
Once I became FB friends with Christine, I began to learn some additional things about her.. Mostly fantastic, happy, funny, interesting things…; including some of her funny life experiences .
One example is the time (maybe more then once) that she was on line at a very busy grocery store and dropped a large bottle of soda on the floor and it exploded all over the place. It was very embarrassing for her, yet hilariously funny to all that read her Facebook post.
I learned that her husband works many hours and he works his tail off for his family. He owns a restaurant. Christine is very accepting and appreciative of that.
I learned that she has a few weekly rituals that are important for her to maintain. One is to clean her house on Fridays and finish her Friday nights off with Pizza and wine. The other ritual is that it is important that she attends church. She attends church quite regularly.
Christine has a busy schedule that involves a lot of driving her kids around to places. I know when I read about her daily drop off and pick up adventures, I could always relate. That struggle of trying to work out the timing of it all. Sometimes having to be at 3 places at once… I do it, too and it’s exhausting at times. I would often pass Christine on the road , and waive, as we both were doing our afternoon thing with the kids.
Here are some other very important things you all need to know about Christine…..
She absolutely LIGHTS UP A ROOM when she is in it. Like more than anyone else I ever met… It’s that strong !!…Ask anyone who knows her ….. Her laugh is infectious. She’s bubbly, she’s gorgeous, and she’s sincere.. She is always in the middle of some sort of situation that is comical, always laughing, and she’s always around other people…Always busy with something….
She even walks with a bounce in her step . It just goes with her personality .
Here is an example of how much fun Christine is…. There is a business in the area that schedules events focusing on make-overs for women (which includes a relaxing massage and professional photo shoot.) The management of this company got to know Christine and absolutely fell in love with her. From what I know, I am pretty sure they CREATED a position with in the company just so Christine could be there to greet the women as they got “made over” and photographed. They knew Christine was the perfect person to keep that exciting vibe going all day long.
There is one additional thing I need to point out. One thing I noticed… more recently… about Christine …….by reading her facebook posts…
She is struggling with something. She doesn’t come right out and share her problem or problems, but she seems sadder than normal. She never really let it be known what it is.. but it’s there…..I can tell….
Christine is not an overly private person by any means, but she also knows where the line is……I am the same way……
I decided that I wanted to feature Christine in my blog and so I came up with a question for her…….
Here is my message I sent to Christine’s Facebook inbox…, which also includes the question I asked her….
I know you have a lot of friends and have a very close family. You have your friends at work. You have your hometown friends from years past, and new friends from recent years .. I know you have your husband and 3 children .. So you are always around people and always busy .. With that being said … my question for you would be this … “Was there ever a time in your life that you felt all alone ?”
Here is Christine’s answer…
This is a great question!!! I am surrounded by many great friends and family… this is true. So you would think that I could never EVER feel all alone. Not true!
What some may not know about me is that I am an only child. There are not too many of us around and sometimes… I do feel All ALONE! As a child, when all my friends would go home to their brothers and sisters.. I would go home to my parents. Don’t get me wrong, they were great but they were parents. Not brothers or sisters. When my parents were busy doing normal chores, it was just me. It was then, I felt ALL ALONE. I felt all alone my Freshman year of college. Missing my parents, missing a boyfriend at home and crappy room mates… that was a recipe for disaster. I subsequently failed out after that 1st year. I totally felt alone being the ONLY one I knew that ever failed out of a college. That August, when every one of my friends were getting ready to go back to college and I wasn’t… I felt ALL ALONE! As a new mother, there were times where I felt alone. My husband was working ungodly hours at his pizza place… basically only coming home to do paper work, banking, catch an hour or so of sleep and shower and then go back to work. I had friends and my parents and my in laws but when Robbie (our oldest) wouldn’t go down for a nap or cried incessantly when his little teeth were coming in or for some unknown reason he broke out in hives which made him look like Yoda from Star Wars… I felt ALL ALONE! Currently, I am feeling alone in dealing with my mom’s illness. She has been suffering from Dementia for the better part of 6 years, now. I have no siblings to help or talk to when she is having a particularly bad day. My Dad is her primary care giver and he is the strongest man I know. It’s so hard to watch someone you love deteriorate and harder still to watch my Dad having to be a total caregiver in his golden years. My Dad is my hero and most definitely feels all alone way more than me.. and yet he still carries on! He is my hero! I know everyone experiences these kinds of loneliness in life and by no means am I seeking sympathy! In the times I have listed above… and countless others… although I felt totally alone, I was not.
Not only did I have my greatest friends and my most cherished family… I had my faith. In those darkest of days, after crying and feeling sorry for myself for a bit… I gave my loneliness to God. I asked and prayed for help in getting me through my rough times and you know what? He ALWAYS saw me through. My most cherished gift my parents and Grandparents gave me was my faith. Without it, I may not be here today. So, in short… I have had times where I felt totally alone but my faith helped me through. I hope to instill that in my children’s lives, too. Thank you for asking me this question. It was a nice reminder that I am never truly ALL ALONE!
________________________
I am surprised and saddened at the number of times in her life she felt that way.
This is a good reminder that you can never tell what a person is struggling with. If they look beautiful and happy on the outside, it does not mean that they are doing well on the inside.
Thank you for answering my question with such honesty, Christine.
The year was 1987. I was working part-time at a Shoe Store. ~~ Fayva Shoes to be exact. . Kingston, NY. (Kings Mall near Carvel, Fashion Town, a pet store, Marshall’s, etc)
I was a fairly new employee there. Age 16.
One night, I was working the 5-9 evening shift. The manager asked me to do a job that she probably gave to all of her new employees ..
My assigned job was to clean all the bottom shelves of the shoe display racks.
Because I had to squat down so low to clean, my shoes felt uncomfortable. They were new and not really broken in.. Sort of stiff…
I decided to take my shoes off and I left them near the side of the cash register counter area (located at the front of the store).
I spent most of my night working diligently on my project.~~ with bare feet.
The shoes were slip-on, flat, dressy, and fake leather … They were bright RED..
This cleaning job was taking me all night.
Halfway thru the night, the phone rang ..
My manager answered it ..
I heard her say “Fayva Shoes, how can I help you ?” After a few seconds she sounded confused and said “Ummmm, no ….who is this?”..
She hung up.
I hear her yell across the store “Colleen, I think you just got the strangest phone call ever “…..
Turns out, the person that called was a man. He asked to speak to the blonde girl ( which was me because my manager had dark hair )… When he was told that I wasn’t available to talk, the caller said “Well, then please tell her that I said …her feet are cute and her shoe smells good.”
I was confused … I kept cleaning ..
I was finally done working for the night. Time to go home ..
I went to put my shoes on to go home … I slipped my foot into the left shoe and then I looked around for the right shoe .. I looked all around the front counter area and then all around the entire store …
My other red shoe was missing !!!!
That man stole my shoe !!
I have no idea who the man was ….
That mystery man will always be called “The man with one red shoe”…
I was very creeped out. My boss walked me to my car that night. The store was in a strip mall with all glass facing the parking lot. I felt like one of the many cars in that lot was watching me. Years later .. I can sort of laugh about it . But, that was WEIRD.
He is the owner of Masseo Landscape and Calico Nursery, in Tillson, NY. Basically his business does: landscaping, hardscaping, gardening, snowplowing, winter-time sanding, etc ..
My husband was the first to meet and become friends with Mark.
Since we decided to ask Mark to design our front yard landscape for us after we bought our house, I was able to get to meet Mark, also.
The first time I met him, he stopped over to our house to take a look at the future project he was taking on.., and we began to chat. With in 5 minutes, the funny comments started pouring out of his mouth. We’ve been friends ever since.
Mark is married and has 2 young children. They are a beautiful family.
Mark spent several days working on our front yard landscaping. I saw first hand how hard working he is. He works fast and with a purpose. His work crew was the same way…Very impressive !
Mark works hard…. AND….. he loves to have fun. His serious work ethic does not take away his need for fun.
I decided to call on Mark to be part of my blog….
I asked him this question ..
“Do you remember the last time you laughed so hard, it hurt? .. ..I call it a “belly laugh”…”
Here is what Mark wrote : (He even gave his story a title !!)
“What made me “belly laugh” last,……. Brother Tim.”
One day, I was salting a church parking lot that I have been maintaining for years.
Along the years, Priests and Brothers at this church come and go, and we have nice chats along the way.
There is a particular new group of “vibrant” brothers there right now …. and they are quite engaging every time they see us.
So me, being a bit of a chop-buster by nature, ..sees Brother Tim outside and he’s smoking a cigarette.
I yell out the window to him “Stop smoking, it’s bad for you !.” …Without hesitation he yells back, “Go to church !”.
I was sitting there alone in my plow truck laughing so hard !.. .
The Brother proceeded to walk over to my truck… and then he follows up with ” Let’s leave our “vises”out of our daily interactions.”
I agreed,…. while we both laughed.
Thanks for the Belly Laugh, Brother Tim.
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Thanks for sharing your story, Mark !
I need you for future blog stories for sure!!! Especially if you have more of where THIS came from !!
Steve and Alison .. Their last cruise vacation together .
This is how I remember Steve . My favorite bartender !
HI… I’m Colleen and I have a heartfelt story to tell you..
Way back on September 24, 1994,….Over 20 years ago…. My (now) husband Steve and I happened to be in the same bar at the same day and same time. We were only just acquaintances up until that day… We started to talk , and laugh, and by the end of the night,.. Steve was asking me for my phone number. Giving Steve my number was the start of a beautiful life together….
This is where the story REALLY begins.
This story is NOT about Steve and Colleen , It’s about a DIFFERENT Steve…..He was a very courageous man.. named …STEVE FISCHER.
Steve Fischer was a part time bartender and a common friend of my husband and myself. He was working at the bar that night. Chic’s Sports Bar…to be exact…
On that very special night, Steve Fischer loaned Steve Hack a pen. So that Steve Hack could get Colleen Dymond’s phone number….That’s me…Colleen (maiden name Dymond)…
Yes, it all started with a pen… … and a napkin (to write my phone number on)…Given to us by Steve Fischer….
During our time dating, we frequented that same bar quite often and Steve Fischer saw our relationship flourish… He knew what drinks we liked. He knew what sports teams we came to watch on the TV’s situated above the bar… He was our friend.
Well, years went by.. My Steve (Hack) and I got married. We didn’t go out to the bars anymore. We started our family and going out to a bar was pretty much part of our past. We didn’t see Steve Fischer as often.
As a matter of fact, I did not see Steve Fischer around much for many years. I only recall one time, running into him at the YMCA. (Around the year 2000).He looked very well put together and healthy. Steve was always a very good looking guy. He had a strong face, he was very muscular, and always had an adorable smile. His smile always had a side glance that went along with it…That’s how he looked when I saw him that day at the Y, and that’s how he looked back in the days of him being our favorite bartender.
When I saw him that day he had told me that he had great job working at the county offices. I figured so, because I knew he had a degree from St. Bonaventure University.
A few years after that.., a friend of mine told me that Steve Fischer was sick. I didn’t know what they meant by “sick”.. Cancer? ….What was it?
I didn’t know…
Then, a few years after hearing Steve was sick, I started to see Steve’s dad when I was swimming in the YMCA pool. He would mention that Steve was sick with a disease but did not get into detail.
Steve’s dad also told me that Steve was married and he and his wife had a young son. That’s all I really knew. This was sometime in early 2010.
Fast forward a few months to September of 2010. I was devastated to hear that Steve Fischer had passed away. HE WAS ONLY 44 YEARS OLD. My friends told me he left behind a 6 year old son.. Their son, “little Steve”, had just started the 1st grade… That broke my heart.
There was so much that I didn’t know about how it all went down over the years.
Here is where the story takes another turn….
In October of 2010… Just 1 month after Steve died… Our family needed to start looking for a new house. We had 4 children by then and our little brick house in Kingston was getting too small for us. The realtor suggest we look at a house in Lake Katrine. It was still being built at the time and was set to be done by the end of December. We were able to sell our house very quickly and decided we would buy the new house in Lake Katrine.
Well, the VERY FIRST memory I have of driving into our “soon to be” neighborhood to check out the progress on our new house being built was this beautiful blonde woman in front of a beautiful colonial house working on her garden. She saw me drive past and she waived and smiled.
Turns out, most times that I drove past her house to go check on my house, she would be working in her yard, and she would always waive and smile.
We finally moved in to our new house during December of 2010.
I learned, soon after, that the woman who lived in that lovely home and always waived to me was Steve Fischer’s wife…. Sad to say, his “widow”. This is where the “circle of life” starts coming into play. Her name is ALISON. And she was my new neighbor.
I decide to “FRIEND” Alison on Facebook. It didn’t take long and we were texting and then eventually spending time sitting in her kitchen, having some lovely “beverages” with our other neighbor, Anna.
As time went on, we got to know each other very well. We have a lot of fun together . Lots of laughs.
After I got to really know Alison is when I learned that Steve died from a disease called “Scleroderma”. Scleroderma is a rare disease where the body attacks its own cells and damages them.
Looking at the photos that Alison had posted on Facebook of Steve during his sicker years, he didn’t even look like the same person. He was so thin and lost all muscle tone. His posture and face … completely different…
I am sure the details of how this disease started to take away Steve’s life are unimaginable. The symptoms of Scleroderma are awful !
I get the impression he only changed on the outside. He was still the same guy: a jokester, a little bit of a wise-guy on the inside., And he still had a very strong attraction to Alison…
I have learned that Alison is a strong woman who stood by his side right until the very end. Alison was only 43 years old when Steve died.
Alison often speaks of Pittsburgh. Lots of our conversations about Steve were about when he and she were in Pittsburgh… I never wanted to ask her too much. I did eventually learn that when his health was really, really failing,.. Steve had to go to a hospital in Pittsburgh. When they knew he was near the end… They brought him back home to the Kingston area to live out his final days.
When my father in law passed away and we went to his grave sight for the first time, I noticed he is buried right near Steve Fischer. My heart sunk when I saw that. It’s so REAL when you see a persons grave. There is an inscripture on Steve’s grave that says “Life isnotmeasured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breathaway“…It’s absolutely beautiful.
Alison is doing very well right now. She has worked very hard at helping little Steven with his grief and living without his dad. She always tells him memories and fun facts about his dad. She keeps Steve’s memory alive.. Her life is all about making sure she is there for little Steven.
Alison is a fantastic mother to her son….
(I know… Way too many Steves in this story…)
It’s been over 4 years since Steve Fischer passed away.
Alison recently found a new love of her life…. She deserves it….. And Steve would want that !…. Her new love is definitely a “Two thumbs up” .. approved by all who love Alison. And, most importantly, approved by little Steven…
Little Steven is a now in 5th grade. He’s turning into a fine young man. He is so well mannered. Not to mention, very handsome…like his dad…
Alison is an incredible woman. She still works in her garden during the nice weather months and she still looks up with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and beautiful smile to waive to me as I drive past her. She’s happy and she’s beautiful…and she’s my friend …
After all this knowledge of Steve and Alison .. I wanted to know a few more things …..So, I decided to ask Alison these 2 questions…….
1. Did the past 4 years help you become a better person because of what you went through?
2. What was the last funny situation that happened between you and Steve before he passed away?
Here was her response:
I think the last 4 years have just made me a different person. Steve did everything, paid the bills, took care of the house, cars ect. So I’m definitely more independent. I tell little Steven all the time how lucky we are. We didn’t go through this awful experience alone. We have 2 amazing families and the most unbelieveable friends. We have a house, food, money to pay our bills and live life the way his father wanted us to…and we have the best memories of Steve. So I guess I’m not a ” better” person but a changed one. I had a love some people never find and an amazing man who showed us what real courage ,family and dignity is all about…I’m a lucky girl.
For as sick as Steve was, he never complained and we laughed…alot. Many laughs and memories between us I keep private because they just seem extra personal now. So this may not be the funniest; but its one I won’t forget.
The day we brought Steve home from Pittsburgh he started receiving meds to keep him comfortable for the long trip. He starting thinking my nephews were there..and they weren’t. He promised my sister in law a horse. He started going on and on about General Hospital. ( which was a television show I had always watched) I mean full details about characters, names, story lines, sex scenes..everything. On and on,… the nurses must have thought he was home watching t.v. constantly !
At that point, we knew things were really bad. Here I am trying to get as much quality conversation in with him as I can, knowing how bad his situation was, and he’s talking about the 2 popular characters from that tv show ..Luke & Laura !
But, the thing I will never forget is when I was leaving his room (in Pittsburgh) for the last time…
I reached for the door to leave his hospital room, he said “HEY”. I turned back to look at him and he puckered up his lips…. as if to kiss me… and then he smiled. That’s what I’ll never forget.
STEVE DIED THE DAY AFTER HE ARRIVED BACK HOME FROM PITTSBURGH.
Alison, you are such a special person.
The story is an example of how you never know the road , or circle, that life is going to take you on..The street we live on is called Pawan Circle ,,, The “circle of life” or the “Pawan Circle of life “…I’m so happy the Fischers are in my/our circle of life ..
I have to add that the entire neighborhood we live in have become such great friends and they would all agree that we are proud to be friends and part of the “circle”..
Thank you, Alison, for allowing me to share your story !!
This was a photo I took from my hotel room window.. at 2:30 am.. when I couldn’t sleep.. 5 hours before I started to run…
On November 23, 2014 I ran in the Philadelphia Marathon.
That was my 4th marathon..
When I set out to train, I have to put my heart and soul into it. It’s another job. It’s not just me that is effected. It’s my entire family. Everything we plan out and every activity that the kids and my husband have during those 4 months, ..involves me checking my training schedule and figuring out what day and time my “long training run” is going to be, etc.
I have to get on “map my run” and plan it out. I have to hide water in the bushes. What if I have a pain somewhere? I have to figure out how to switch the schedule around to make sure I don’t make anything worse. I have to lay my clothes out. I have to wash all those nasty running clothes. I have to have my GPS watch charged up at all times. I have to communicate with my running partner to make sure our schedules match up. I have to make sure I don’t eat a funky meal the night before a long run so I don’t have to take a bathroom break along the road.
There is A LOT that gets invested.
All the things I listed above is important and takes time and energy, but the most I invest into it is my HEART !!!!
I am not the fastest runner. I don’t win the races. I have to wear 2 bras because my boobs are big. In the hot weather I get chafing in places you can only imagine. Boy does that burn when I hit the shower.
One other important thing you all should know is that I collect the coins I find on the ground during my training runs and then I bring them with me to the marathon. I run my fingers through them right before I go to the start line. That’s a tradition that has become an important part of my training. I find mostly pennies… Runny Money !!
I needed to get my point across regarding what goes into my training so that I can share this story.
Training was going so well last summer and fall. I was running long distances and my calendar was checking off as it got closer to marathon day.
I had 3 1/2 weeks until race day and I had my very last long training run coming up and then I start to do my “tapering”. Tapering is when you start working backwards in your training miles in order to heal the body up and rest it for race day. So you keep running but not as long distances and it keeps you in shape but not overdoing it so you are strong and rested for the big day.
25 days before race day and I was teaching a barbell class. I was all done teaching and I simply bent over to pick up a floor mat. That’s when I felt the top of my left calf start tightening then lostening then tightening and so on.. It was spasming and it hurt. When I walked down the stairs to leave the Y, it was hurting.
Well, that put me into panic mode. I think I may have posted 2 or 3 things on facebook about my worry of the injury. But in my head, that worry was posting non stop.
I was very upset. I had 3 weeks to try to keep my running schedule going and fix this problem. When I googled “pulled calf muscle” – all the websites said up to 6 weeks rest time to heal it.
Here is what I did to try to fix this…
I took advil every 6 hours, I took Epson baths almost every day, I went for a session at the chiropractor and she used some tool to break up what seemed to be a huge knot, I went for a massage, I iced it on and off every day , all day…., I also stretched and foam rolled . Remember, most of this went on everyday for 25 days…
I went to church and prayed.
Every day I would wake up and take my first few steps, I would have a knot in my stomach because the pain and weird pulling feeling was still there. I mean here it is, 7,6,5,4,3,.. days prior to race day and I am still feeling this and limping slightly.
I was still able to teach “spin”and barbell class. I was very, very careful and didn’t go “all out”. I tried to run and see how it felt and I think I only ran about 3 times in that 3 weeks. I had to skip the last, long 20 mile training run.
So, here I am packing my bags the last few days leading up to the marathon. I got my hotel reservations that I made since last April, I got my husband and sons coming on the trip with me to Philadelphia to cheer me on. My girls couldn’t join us because they had other things going on.
I was NOT excited to pack my bags. I felt sick. Why am I doing this? My mood was awful and I was on edge. At this point, I was freaking out on the inside and the outside…
Well, the day arrived to drive to Philadelphia…Here’s the timeline of events for the weekend…
Friday, November 21st, 2014
I had all day to finish packing and get things finalized. We were going to leave town when Steve got home from work at 5pm.
I had a crazy idea to stop at Sports Authority and buy some of this special sports tape that athletes use. It’s called “KT Tape”. I stop and I asked the employees where to locate it. I explained my panic of my pulled calf and they recommend I go on Youtube to learn how to properly apply the tape.
I get home and I am playing the youtube video and it’s walking me and Julia (one of my daughters) how to apply the tape. Julia helped me because I had to stand up in a weird position and she’s down on the floor taping up my calf.. If y’all were a fly on the wall you would crack up. I read the great reviews online for this KT Tape and it gave me hope. I needed hope .
We all got in the car and drove to Philadelphia. The ride was about 4 hours, but was actually fun and exciting. My family was making me laugh and it helped my nerves. I really love them !!
We check into our hotel and settle into our room. Bed time came fairly quick. We got there late….I think we checked in at 9:00 pm.
Saturday, November 22, 2014 —- 1 day until race day….
I get up. Starbucks is nearby. Steve went and got it for me. We all relaxed a while, then got ready to walk over to the EXPO. If you are all not familiar, the Marathon Expo is usually at a big venue that has a all kinds of vendors that sell running related products and services. It is also where you pick up your running package. The running package has your running bib and a free bag and free shirt that comes along with registering. We had to walk to the expo. It was 7/10 of a mile away.
Steve and the boys decided to get on the subway to go see a college basketball game at LaSalle college while I perused the huge expo and could take my time.
I saw there was a booth that had a chiropractor who was doing free “taping”. I had brought that tape I bought at Sports authority with me in my purse incase there was a professional there that could help me. I waited on line and I told him where the pull is/was and he taped up my calf. Again, getting “taped” was a way of giving me hope. My last chance..
While I was there, I bought some great running clothes for my oldest daughter, Sarah, for Christmas. Sarah is on indoor track, outdoor track, and cross country. She lives in those clothes.
I walked back to the hotel all alone and every step I took I was so intuned to my pulled calf muscle. I was so scared of what was going to happen to me.
I ate a “veggie delight” sub from Subway for dinner. That is something that works for me. Doesn’t bother my stomach the next day. I tried to drink lots of water all day.
I laid out my clothes that night. My race bib, my lucky running coins from the money I find during my training, etc. I set my alarm.
I couln’t sleep.
I got up in the night, looked out my hotel window down to the street below. I saw all the police cars starting to block off the roads. It was so dark and quiet inside my room but bright flashing lights out the window..It was me vs my brain being negative .. I started getting night sweats. I was a mess. This was getting REAL…
“I can’t do this, I can’t do this”, ” My family is here and there going to see me dropping out and failing”….
Sunday, February 23, 2014 — MARATHON DAY
I get out of bed at 4:45 am after my alarm went off. Lord knows I didn’t sleep. I had not one ounce of excitement in my body. I was scared. I went through the motions of putting on my clothes. In past marathons, I would take a shower first and make myself look nice for the start line, just so I felt good about myself at the start. This time I didn’t. I looked awful. I don’t even think I looked in the mirror other then when I was brushing my teeth. The first order of business, after that, was coffee. Starbucks in the lobby was opening early for the runners. I took the elevator down and saw a pretty long line formed already.
I stood on line. Everyone else was laughing and relaxed. I was not. My forehead started forming sweat beads and I was dizzy. I felt like I may pass out. What was happening to me?
I managed to make it back up to my hotel room and sat on the bed. I sipped my coffee. I felt like I needed ice for my forehead. I walked a few steps down the hall on our hotel floor and put some ice in a bag using the ice machine. After I returned with the ice, I sat on the bed holding the ice on my forehead and got on my phone and googled “Symptoms of a panic attack”… Yup… I was having a panic attack.
I composed my self and continued to get ready. I prayed !! I prayed and talked out loud… “Please, please let me finish this!!” My entire family is still asleep in their beds and I’m sitting at the foot of one of the beds praying in the dark…
I was supposed to meet my friend, Amy, in the lobby at 6 am. I was still dizzy. I whispered to Steve and gave him a kiss. He hugged me tight and wished me luck. I kissed the kids on the forehead, ran my fingers thru my “runny money”, and quietly opened the hotel door to leave and it shut behind me. I remember that sound of the hotel room door clicking shut.. They all make that same noise.
Well, HERE I GO.. !! Reality was setting in .. That door locked behind me and I had to march forward …That click of the door shutting behind me was the sound of “there’s no going back now.”
I was on the 10th floor. I get on the elevator. The entire hotel was filled with marathon runners. One runner got in and he looked all dressed and good to go. I said “Good luck” and tried to play along like I was cool as a cucumber. He said “I may not be running today” Then he said “I went to get dressed and I can’t find my running sneakers” … I look down and the dude was wearing a pair of moccasins. No joke….. He was in the elevator because he was going to check the trunk of his car. It was parked in the parking garage below the hotel. “I swear I packed them” he says…. Really dude?? That was funny, but not funny, and I wonder if he ever found his sneakers??!
I meet up with Amy. We walk to the starting line. She and I had different start areas assigned.
We are walking over, it’s still dark out. .. 30,000 runners walking like zombies to one general area… I felt a bit calmer at that point for some reason. I think just having Amy talking to me helped. We went our separate ways to our start area.
I settled into a spot. It’s crowds of people, shoulder to shoulder…. The excitement of the crowd starts building up… The marathon sets up loud speakers all over the start area (Which is situated at the famous ROCKY STEPS of Philadelphia)… The rocky theme song is blaring. There’s excited people all around me. Every other runner is cheering and clapping and I’m standing there listening to the little voice in my head .. “I’m going to fail. What am I doing here?, I have no business being here, My calf hurts and it might just GO” ..over and over ..
The gun goes off and it takes my “choral” about 30 minutes to make it’s way to the official starting line.
HERE I GO… I hit the start button on my watch… and I start moving my legs… I’m going really slow to feel it out…
Every step I pray … and I tell my self “take it slow, listen to your body”..
I get to mile one and I see Steve and the boys. I give them a thumbs up…. “1 mile down, 25 to go”…
So, now I’m moving along, I refuse to look at my watch and be disappointed in how slow I am going. I just kept saying “finish this thing”..I feel that tightness in my calf …
I get to mile 3 and a person passes me and they are pushing a handicapped grown adult in a big adult stroller. The person in the stroller had a SEVERE disability. I said to myself “Thank you, god for allowing me to see this” … It inspired the hell out of me. But , I’m still feeling my calf..
Then I hit mile 6, and I realized I didn’t feel my calf pain anymore… I can’t believe it !!!!! There is hope!!!! Maybe that KT tape was really working !
I kept the same pace.
Suddenly, I came upon a huge hill and when I got to the top, I found a new pain. The top of my right quad BURNED.. I thought… “DId I just pull my quad?”… I can’t friggin win!!
I took it slower and I think I stopped and went to the side of the road and stretched it.. Thank GOD it disappeared eventually..after about 10 minutes … That was a scary 10 minutes.
This marathon has great entertainment and huge crowds along the course. I read signs and heard people cheering and bands were playing. That distracted me. I saw Steve and the boys , again, near miles 6 and 13. That lifted my spirits.
I then started telling myself “Get to mile 20 ~ Get to mile 20 ~ Get to mile 20”.. Because ,after mile 20.., I have no choice but to finish. It’s a long road straight road (with a few small hills) for miles 20 to 26, but at that point there’s no choice but to make it to the finish line.
So, I eventually hit mile 16…, 17…, 18…., 19….., and , ….finally…. mile 20 !!! (I wish the time, that day, went by as fast as I could type this in my story.) At this point I was very tired. I felt nautious. This was the point that the lack of running the past 3 weeks is going to haunt me. I had to skip that last 20 mile training run and I hardly ran at all the past 3 weeks. I felt weak and tired.
So the final 6 miles was a challenge. I ran near the side of the road because I felt like I was going to PUKE… It was really bad..
I had my music playing in my ears in my headphones, then suddenly I heard a voice…. I pull out one of the headphones and I hear “Please watch out, there’s a BLIND GUY coming through”. I hardly had energy to turn my head and look, but I see a guy running along side me and he’s holding a rubber tube and on the other end was a guide runner.
Well, that was a HUGE inspiration to help me along… Again, “Thank you lord, for letting me see that” … That helped me…How can I complain when there’s a blind dude running next to me?
I am sure I was running extra slow. Everybody was as this point.
Time seemed to have been going backwards at this point .. My body just hurt .. Every.single.muscle.
It really did feel like forever, but I eventually got closer to the Rocky Steps, closer to the finish. The last quarter mile…I FINALLY made it to that point …That’s where the spectator crowds are huge and loud !. I pulled my headphones out of my ears… I fix my shirt with every ounce of energy I had, I made sure my hair was tucked nicely in my hat so it didn’t look messy. I am conscious of my posture. The finish line is ahead and there are crowds of people cheering and professional photographers everywhere. I had my name on my shirt and spectators where yelling and waving “GO COLLEEN, YOU CAN DO THIS, YOU ARE ALMOST THERE”…
I suddenly got a burst of energy and then I heard my family.. Yelling “HUNNY, COLLEEN, MOM”.. I looked to the right and I saw them all cheering and waving and so proud of me !..Well, that was IT…Now, I really had what it took to cross that finish line. I used all I had..to push thru ..
I “high fived” the mayor of Philadelphia who always stands under the finish line.
Then, I crossed the finish line…… With a HUGE smile on my face .
I DID IT !!!
… A girl came over and I was all hunched over… She put the medal around my neck..
I stood up.. I remember this part in SLOW MO…. I put my right hand up over my mouth … Another person came up to me and put that foil blanket around me… I was barely walking out of nausia and tiredness…. It was right then and there .. all by myself.. It happened..
I BROKE DOWN… I had my hand over my mouth and I just lost it…My shoulders were bopping up and down. The tears were flowing. My eyes were flowing the tears and I was out of control crying. I lost my breath…I was crying so hard.
I stood there embarrassed that I was crying like a baby in the middle of the chaos of a finish line..I was just so overwhelmed with relief and with happiness.
My family found me and saw me crying.. The 3 boys – Steve, Brad, and Will all confused … “Why is she upset?”… I freaked them out..I looked in all of there eyes and shook my head and said “I Am So HAPPY” “I am so happy”” I am so happy”…
Wait .. There’s more..
We were standing there in the finishing line area. They took my picture (with the rocky stairs behind me ).. I was telling them all some things about my experience, …. All the while wiping tears off my face …And, suddenly, I look down ……. I look down…. on the ground….. Right in front of me …. in front of my 2 feet…… THERE WAS A PENNY !!!!!!! I kid you not !! I could hardly bend over.. I was so still tired and sore and nautious, but I bent down and picked it up with all I had left.
I don’t know why I didn’t ask Steve or one of the boys to bend down for me to pick it up .. I guess I was just so amazed that I felt like I had be the one to pick it up.
(I have since saved that penny in a special envelope to separate it from the other pennies)
My “boys”, my cheering section, helped me walk back to the hotel and I was feeling sick. They had a soda for me to settle my stomach. They kept telling me about all the spots they saw me go by and how great it was and how good I looked…
I finally made it back to the hotel , ….went right to the bathroom, and …I THREW UP…!!
I took a shower, brushed , and made my way to check out… And off we went back to Lake Katrine, NY. One of the most amazing days of my life .
