Some Velvet Morning - Lee Hazelwood & Nancy Sinatra

"Flowers growing on the hill ... dragonflies and daffodils. Learn from us, very much. Look, but do not touch."

I never thought much about dragonflies before we lost our boys because of Leukemia. If I thought of them at all, it was only to think that they kept the mosquito population down, or that they were strange and peculiar looking creatures. But then, when we moved to Florida two years ago, they became a huge part of my life.

It began early one summer morning when Sally, the Wonder Westie, and I were out in the backyard. She was on her leash just sniffing around. Out of nowhere came an extraordinarily beautiful creature. He lit on her leash and walked it like a tight rope right up to my hand. I was pretty amazed – I just stood there staring. He was a lovely shade of orange with glittering golden wings. With huge black eyes, he stared up at me and then began to chatter. Did you know that dragonflies can “talk”? Neither did I until that morning. A moment later, a second dragonfly appeared, lighting on Sally’s leash behind the orange one. He was the most spectacular shade of iridescent purple I have ever seen, with silver wings.

We met every morning that summer, those two little dragonflies, Sally and I. I learned that if I held my index finger out straight and steady, occasionally one or the other would light there briefly. Their touch was soft and gentle. Sometimes, they would be joined by their friends ~ dazzling creatures in all the colors of the rainbow. There were red ones, green ones, blue ones, yellow ones. I never realized that dragonflies came in so many different colors. We began meeting in the afternoons, too. Sometimes, we would just talk, other times they would do soaring dances for me, flying high into the sky and circling round and round. Sometimes, one would light somewhere and sit for 30 minutes while I snapped pictures. That’s how I captured “Jeffrey’s Dragonfly” ~ the beautiful orange one that is the same color as Jeffrey’s hair! I so looked forward to our visits every day!! They go to bed as soon as the sun sets, but in summer that’s not very early, so we had lots of time together.

When the Fall came and, along with it, cooler weather, our visits became fewer and farther between until one day in November, there were no dragonflies waiting for me. That was a sad day, still I knew in my heart that they would be back, and I was thrilled that March morning when I saw the first one! While they were away, I set about learning everything I could about dragonflies. Did you know, because of their wing configuration, they can hover, can fly backwards, forwards and side-to-side. They are nature’s own little helicopters. Their gossamer-like wings are pretty tough. It takes a lot to tear one, though they look so very fragile. And, yes, they come in many different colors! You just have to look closely ~
I also came across this inspiring story about dragonflies that brought even more meaning to me:

The Dragon Fly ~ In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs. They could not understand why none of them ever came back after crawling up the stems of the lilies to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who made the climb would return to tell them what happened. Soon, one of them felt an urgent need to seek the surface. He climbed the stem and when he reached the surface, he rested on top of a lily pad. It was then that he went through the glorious transformation that made him a dragonfly with beautiful, amazing, translucent wings that shone many different colors in the sunlight. In vain he tried to keep his promise to return, flying back and forth over the pond and peering at his loved ones below. Then he realized that, even if they could see him, they wouldn’t recognize him for he was no longer a grub at the bottom of the pond. He had become such a radiant and beautiful creature.
Here’s the thing … Just because we can’t see our loved ones or recognize them after the transformation that we call death, it doesn’t mean they cease to exist. No, it doesn’t mean that at all.

I’ve learned a great deal about this journey of life from my amazing dragonflies. I’ve learned that our loved ones are not gone. They are all around us each and every day … perhaps in the eyes of the spectacular dragonflies.

Please see our blog at its new location ~ Nancy's Blog at Jeffrey's Voice ~ Together, we CAN cure leukemia and rid the world of this horrific disease once and for all. Together, we WILL ...

Mama, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys ~ Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson

"Don't let 'em pick guitar or drive them old trucks, make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such ..."

So, I know that's what Waylon and Willie said, but sometimes cowboys are just born, and in spite of a Mama's best efforts, that's how they grow up. I have two cowboy sons and one "and such..."! Allyn made it clear from the outset that he was going to be a part of the elite and his tastes were such that cowboyhood never entered his mind. He isn't a doctor or lawyer, but rather a very successful executive whose talents are in high demand. That's good ... that makes me smile!

Jeff and Brian, on the other hand, were born as cowboys. From early on, they loved the outdoors and all the excitement of discovering the new things and the new experiences that it provided. Because they wanted to play outside so much of the time, we fenced in our backyard. That only held them in for a few years! As soon as they were big enough, they learned to jump it. That was no easy task, as it was a 5-1/2 foot wooden thing with a locking gate.  Somehow, they would manage to pull themselves up to the top and then dive over head first. Of course, Jeff would always talk his little brother into doing the dive first, so he could see how it went and determine if he really wanted to take that risk! Once released, they would explore the neighborhood with Thomas, their friend who lived a few doors down. That usually ended not so well for any of the three of them. There was always some mischief to make, and they had a keen sense of where that might be. So, they would go there and make it ~ mischief, I mean. We, or Thomas' parents, would always find out and then the cowboys would be corralled for a time.


There was a fairly large piece of land between the back of our fence and the street. It was heavily wooded and a perfect place for the guys to play. One summer, when they were 9 and 10, they built a "hide-out" back there from the plywood we had in our basement storage room. They took the large pieces of plywood and pushed them over the fence, then they would do the fence dive behind them. This little venture involved not only Thomas, but Timmy, as well ~ another neighbor from the next cul-de-sac. They drew plans for the hide-out and then set about building it. They spent hours and days hammering, building, creating. They begged for blankets and flashlights and other paraphernalia to make their hide-out a more comfortable place. They were SO proud when they finished. All the parents were called together to view their creation. Non-cowboy adults are much less adventurous and much more cautious than cowboy children. We weren't really in to doing the fence dive thing, so we walked around to the other side and went in from the back. We were amazed! They had pooled all of their resources and walked to the Ace Hardware where they purchased paint, several 2x4's and a battery-powered Coleman lantern. Their hide-out included benches and a make-shift table ~ the perfect place for "suburban cowboys". I was always surprised that the county didn't find it and remove it because a portion of it was on the right of way. I suppose it was back far enough in the woods that the workmen didn't see it. That little hide-out was still there when we sold that home several years later, although it wasn't used as frequently as that first summer when it was built!

As the boys grew older, they continued to like cowboy things. They camped, fished, and helped their cousin on his farm in middle Georgia, where they called themselves "ranch hands". Whitewater rafting, or just rafting period, was one of their favorite things to do, and hunting, of course! They both had pick up trucks and they both picked guitar. But here's the thing ...

Waylon & Willie said "Them that don't know him  probly won't like him & them that do sometimes won't know how to take him" ... I think being a cowboy isn't about what you've done or how you act. It's a state of mind ... an attitude. My cowboys were fiercely independent, wanted to find their own way, but still, kind, caring and so considerate. I could write for hours about my two cowboys and the cowboy things they did, and I could post lots of pictures. But, they didn't wear "lone star belt buckles" ~ faded Levis, well, yes, every now and then, but it was mostly Polos and Khakis. That's how it was ...

Waylon & Willie also said, "If you don't understand him and he don't die young, he'll probly just ride away ..." I like to think my two amazing cowboys just rode away, but the truth is, they died young, because of Leukemia ... my children, and so many more have been lost to this wretched disease. It's time we found a cure, don't you think?  "Cowboys ain't easy to love and harder to hold ..." said Waylon & Willie. My cowboys were so very easy to love, but so hard to hold. If I could have, well I would have. If I could have somehow protected them from disease and from heartbreak, well, I would have.

We can protect those struggling today with Leukemia ... those yet to come ... and honor those lost. Together, we can live in a world free of this wretched disease. You can help. Visit http://jeffreysvoice.org/ and join us in the fight. Oh, and Leukemia, well you SUCK ~

I'm Not Scared ... Unknown Artist

"There’s something flying through the air out there.

On a broomstick gliding through the air out there.

But I’m not scared 'cause I’m safe inside,

I’m not scared, but I think I’ll hide."

There was little "ditty" (that's a song) that our oldest son, Allyn, learned for Halloween back when he was in First Grade. When "the boys" - Jeff and Brian - came along, Allyn taught it to them before they even started school. We sang it for years every Halloween, but only during daylight hours! After dark, it would cause them, especially the little ones, undue fear.  That fear was furthered by the notion that all three of them believed I turned into a witch every night at midnight. Now, I don't know why that is ... perhaps it's genetic. You see, for years as a child, I believed my own dear, sweet Mother turned into a witch every night, too. It certainly couldn't have been that I encouraged that idea. No, there's not a chance of that!

It became a matter of great interest to the boys. They would ask me endless questions ~ "Where do you keep your broomstick, Mommy?" "Where's your cauldron?" "Can you cast spells?" "Do you have a black cat?" "Where is he?" "Do you have witch friends?" It was all an intriguing little game we played, especially at Halloween! They weren't afraid ~ in fact, they were never afraid of much of anything. They were just curious, and, of course, in their hearts they knew it was all a game. They loved Halloween and would plan their costumes for weeks. Halloween night, out the door we would go ... me in my witch paraphernalia and they in whatever costume they had decided upon. We were blessed, as my Mom was a wonderful seamstress and made their bunny, pumpkin, bear, Ninja Turtle, and many more costumes for years, until they reached the years that they wanted to be nasty, monstrous looking things with claws and fangs! The rule in our house was that when they reached 13, they could no longer go out "treating", as Allyn always called it, because there were no tricks. At that point, they would help me decorate, dress up in their scary costumes, and take turns handing out candy to the "treaters", as Allyn called them, because there were no "tricksters"!

But, as the boys grew older and entered the teen years, I think their belief that I was a witch intensified ~ especially when they couldn't have their way. They would ask, I would say "NO", and they would mutter under their breaths, "Mom's a witch!" I would say, "I heard that." Of course, then they would turn those years of fun and games right back on me ~ "Well, Mom, you said so!" And, well, I guess I did, and I suppose they could have called me worse, but they wouldn't have. Like I said, they had no fear ~ except, perhaps, of the wrath and withering looks from their Mother when they did something really bad. Being restricted from certain activities was not something they looked forward to, so they were generally pretty well-behaved ~ at least at home. Once away from home, well, that's another song for another day!

I'm not scared anymore, either. You see, when you face the worst a parent can imagine ~ the loss of two beautiful and amazing young sons within weeks of each other ~ things that you once feared, no longer have much meaning. There is one thing that I do fear, though, and that is not defeating Leukemia. I fear one more person suffering the devastating impact of this wretched disease. And, although I know that today, like everyday, there will be 118 new diagnoses of Leukemia, and that 60 will be lost, I will fight for a cure until I draw my last breath. You see, Leukemia was the enemy of Jeff and Brian ~ now it is mine. I hope to make it yours. There are no known causes for Leukemia or known ways to prevent it. That is why research into the causes and cures is so very, very critical. Visit Jeffrey's Voice and learn more about our mission to find a cure. Help us by donating ~ there is no amount too small. Every penny, every dime, every dollar donated to Jeffrey's Voice brings us closer to the day when no more are lost to Leukemia, when all remissions are permanent, and when finally there is a cure for all.

Happy Halloween!

My Friend, The Doctor & Other Things ...

There was a song, back in the day, by the Cowsills ~ The Rain, The Park & Other Things. "Flowers in her hair, flowers everywhere ..." Well, I have a song for everything and this is what I have to say ~ just changing the words a bit!

I have a beautiful and amazing friend. Her name is Patti Hall. She and I met when we were very young ~ I was pregnant with our oldest son, Allyn, and she with her oldest son, Jimmy. She worked in an Executive Suites as a receptionist. That's where I had my little 10'x10' office. We shared our stories, and we shared our fears. Just 3 months before Patti gave birth, I delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Patti's delivery was not as successful, and there were some complications with the baby, Jimmy, something her family still struggles with. Shortly after our babies were born, we added a wonderful client that helped my business grow, so I spoke with Patti about coming to work for me. Without hesitation, she said "YES"! We were still in the Executive Suites in my same little office sitting across a desk from each other, trying to talk on the phone and not disturb each other, and eating boiled eggs & Cheetos for lunch. Because we both had babies, we traded days coming in to the office, but we always scheduled two or three days that we were there together. Then, one day when it was Patti's turn to "man" the office, we received a call from a potential client that changed everything! Patti called me at home and said, "Nancy, you have about an hour to get dressed, head downtown and make a presentation to the Southern Cable Television Association." Somehow I managed and somehow we got the account! We moved to our "own" office shortly thereafter ~ we no longer needed the Executive Suites, and we hired a receptionist and a bookkeeper! I remember how excited Patti was about having her own office with, of all things, a window!! We moved a couple of times after that, as the business continued to grow, and then Patti took a few years of sabbatical after the birth of her second and amazing son, Jeffrey.

When she called to ask if she could come back, my heart sang. By that time, my Jeffrey and Brian had joined the Horne family. I remember her walking in the door that day for what she thought was an "interview". She said, "Nancy, you're so thin." I had on a black dress, she a red suit. I rehired her on the spot, and she came to work the next day, picking up right where she left off and never missing a beat!

But, see, Patti was never an employee to me ~ she was my best friend and colleague, and I loved her like a sister. Through the years, we shared everything. The ups and downs with our children, our families, our aging parents, the business ... I know she was always there for me, just as I was always there for her.

We took many business trips together over the years, and what fun we would have. Sometimes, Mr. Horne would accompany us, but he never interfered with our shopping or eating ... thinking he was just there to pay the bills!

Our last trip together was to San Francisco in 2004 for the National Cable & Telecommunications Association's annual meeting. We arrived on Friday ~ she had friends in SF, so had dinner with them that night. Saturday, we went to a breakfast meeting and then out to shop. She mentioned that she didn't feel well and was short of breath, but we chalked it up to bad clams she had the night before with her friends. So vividly I remember this ~ her youngest child, Jeffrey, a proud Marine, was about to be deployed to Iraq, but there was so much chatter on the news about other things ~ it was right after the Pope had died and the Terry Schiavo feeding tube controversy was taking up the rest of the news. As we were walking down the streets of San Francisco, she looked at me and said, "Nancy, I am so upset that I can't hear about what is going on in Iraq. I'm worried about my Jeffrey. Why is this other stuff taking away the news? I'm sorry the Pope is gone. I feel terrible for Terry and her family, but it's because of cases like hers that I refuse to go to the Doctor. I hope, when my time comes, I will just fade away ~ no extraordinary measures, please. Just let me go!" On Sunday, we had meetings, and the Cable Pioneers Dinner that night. She made it to the Dinner, but had to leave because she became ill. We were scheduled to leave for home the next morning (Monday), and I wondered how I would get her to the airport and on the plane, but she seemed better that morning and was able to eat a big breakfast. We made it back to Atlanta, and my amazing Brian drove her car to the airport to meet us so she could go directly home, instead of coming by my house to pick up her car, where she had parked it on Friday.

On Tuesday, she came in to the office, but she looked so pale and so ill. A few minutes later, she came to me and said she was going home, she was too sick to work. I asked if I could drive her home or call her husband Steve to come get her. She simply said, "No, I'll be okay" ~ but she wasn't. I talked to her everyday that week, and it was obvious that she wasn't getting any better. The last time I talked to her was Saturday morning ~ she didn't recognize my voice. I said to her husband, "Steve, you have to get her to the hospital right away." The next day, a Sunday, she got her wish ~ she faded away. I spent  Saturday night at the hospital with her husband, Steve ~ we cried, we prayed, we read the Bible, but it didn't matter. Patti had Acute Mylogenous Leukemia ~ it struck her suddenly and took her suddenly. Now, this beautiful butterfly no longer has to fight to fly ~ no, she now soars with the angels, and I'm positive she has flowers in her hair. Yes, I'm sure there are flowers everywhere around her.

Just 18 months later, my amazing young son, Jeffrey, called me from the Georgia Southern Clinic, telling me he was sick, his hemoglobin count was low, and the Clinic was transporting him to the Emergency Room via ambulance. No one had to tell me what was wrong with him, see I knew what it was ~ I knew it was Acute Leukemia. I also knew what the outcome would be. My beautiful and amazing young son put up a courageous fight for 11 months, but this wretched disease shows no mercy.

And so it goes ~ now, like my dear friend Patti, I no longer go to Doctors either. When I walk into a Doctor's office, my face turns red, my blood pressure soars, my heart races, and I panic each time I see those machines, that medical equipment, those things that couldn't help Patti or Jeff ~ it's just not worth it. My amazing friend got her wish. I hope that, like her, I can get mine and just fade away, too.

Here's the thing, this is not a story about "The Rain, The Park and Other Things" but it is a small part of the story of my amazing friend, Patti, and the wretched disease that has taken so many. For Patti, for my amazing Jeff and Brian, and all the beautiful butterflies fighting to fly, won't you help us find a cure for Leukemia? To learn more and to support our mission to find a cure, please visit Jeffrey's Voice and donate today. No amount is too small ~ every penny, every dime, every dollar donated brings us closer to the day when no more are lost to Leukemia, when all remissions are permanent, and when, finally, there is a cure for all.