Page 1~ True Heroes

Unsung Heroes

Unsung Heroes

I think the word hero is often times misinterpreted as something or someone who moves the earth, stops criminals with telepathy and webs and can be easily depicted in comic book form.  Heroes, to me, are people who put others above themselves for the greater good and do not seek to be rewarded.

Our youth understand that firemen/women are heroes. They are directly taught this in school and hopefully by their parents as well. They understand that military personnel are heroes because they protect our country. Hopefully, as they get older, they understand that the men and women who serve our country, regardless of political beliefs also protect their personal freedoms.

There are many “known” heroes that we learn about as we grow up. Sometimes, though, we miss out on the best ones. Sometimes we don’t know we are living, breathing and eating in the same space as one of the greatest heroes of all.

My mom was an amazing, unstoppable, (hard-headed) hero. She was not just a hero to me. She was a hero to more people than even I knew. She was a home to high risk, medically fragile foster children and babies (at least 56.) She was the mother of 9 children, 6 of which she adopted (out of that outstanding number previously stated.) She was a mother to my friends, she was a wealth of knowledge, she was the kind of friend that cannot be replaced, she was the motherly advice you didn’t ask for but got anyway, she was a kind and honest heart , and she was, most importantly, our mother.

My mother’s legacy continues on because not only was she an amazing woman throughout her life, she gave life through death. She was an organ donor. My mom saved people’s lives the night she died. She spent her life saving children.

When she died, she brought peace to other families and fixed other broken hearts in ways only she could by giving the gift of sight, by alleviating the pain of ten years of dialysis, and by helping burn patients, cancer patients …. and the list goes on. There are some days I am certain I see her. I get real close… sometimes I want to reach out and touch the person, or just talk to them to make sure.. but I catch myself and remember~ she is gone. She is a hero. My personal hero who has left me with the gift of strength to deal with adversity and the ability to sing when I want to cry. That is my mom, today is her birthday… a true hero lives on.


Page 1- The Glad Game


Pollyanna Syndrome- (n) illness caused by a series of either unfortunate or just plain crappy events which happen with increased frequency throughout ones life. 

The Glad Game- (n) A cure; remedy, for those suffering from Pollyanna Syndrome, allowing said sufferer to find sunshine through the clouds, make lemonade out of lemons, and find purpose in every thing that goes awry.

It seems clear now, as an adult, why our parents did some of the things they did while we were growing up. For me, one of those things was “making” me become obsessed with Orphan Annie and Pollyanna. I am positively sure my mother somehow sideswiped me with those movies so I would always have two things occurring in my life. 

  1. I would always remember that somebody, somewhere was in a worse situation than I was, ever… (so basically stop complaining.)
  2. I would always, somehow, try to find the good in people and in the moment or surroundings.

It is often seemingly impossible to find good in every situation, but it is possible to breathe deep, walk away, glance back and remember something sensational about even the most sinister person you have encountered. It is all about perspective. 

It occured to me last night as I was having a very difficult time finding the good anywhere but in my pillow, that I had not shown gratitude or rather, expressed what I was feeling “glad” about in some time.  

A very good friend of mine was asking me what was going on in my life at the time and as I was telling her, she asked how I was possibly holding it all together. At that moment, she decided I should win an award for maintaining sanity through torturous situations… (her words were slightly more offensive!) I told her it was time to play: 

The Glad Game.  

“Well, what on earth do you have to be glad about?!” 

I could list a whole lot of things I am glad about. Having a roof over my head, a car to drive, healthy children, food to eat…. but at this point I was having more fun giving her ACTUAL Pollyanna “what would you do?” scenarios. That, is what I was glad about. I made her laugh and I know she needed to. 

The only way to stay up, when things are looking really dark, is to multiply your negatives until you get a positive.  I promise, there will always be something there to be glad about. 

Did I mention that Pollyannas really piss people off? Purposeful, Promising, Patient, Pollyanna type people usually do. 🙂 Be patient with them too. They really are trying to make the world a nicer place. 


Page 1


“… When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.” ~ Paulo Coelho

Only time can tell how many stories one person has to tell, or how much information one brain can analyze.  As human beings, as individuals, as teachers, mothers, fathers, religious leaders, politicians, atheists, comedians and ok, even talk show hosts~ it is our job to be story tellers. It is our duty to pass down the First Pages, the highlights, the wonders and the details of our lives for the next generations to come. 

For me, the  journey through my First Pages is one that is not in any sort of order. It is filled with an abundance of love, broken hearted tears that only some people will have to experience in their life time, an extreme amount of gratitude and a persistent urge to absorb more information as I go. I can only become stronger if I learn from my failures and set backs. 

So, First Pages is a map and remembrance and stand up comedy show of errors dedicated to the village that raised me, the pillars of strength that allow me space to lean on, and to wonderful, loving, unique, beautiful young people in my life that guide me and teach me along the way.  

Welcome to my brightly painted,  wildly diverse,  and slightly (ok VERY) dysfunctional journey through life. Image