New YouTube video on my channel basically just rambling about life in general; childhood memories, dolls, my future, surgery, decorating for fall/Halloween, etc.
There’s been a mutual decision between David Piazza and I after all of us discussing things over with Mom, to push the wedding back another year. So it’ll be may 2021.. we haven’t gotten much done as far as planning and in Catholics churches, need to let church priests know 6 months ahead of event.. That’d be next month, plus we’ll be moving into my parents’ house the beginning of 2020. Plus this way, I’ll be over a year post-op and better able to plan and enjoy it. Sorry for any disappointments but tis life ❤️❤️❤️🤷 we feel this will be better in long run.
What is the difference
of people who are handicapped and special needs
are they not all people too?
why must we be judged by our appearances, and
making us feel alone in the world.
why do we constantly put stress on each other, and
why cant we all just get along?
what is the difference?
don’t we all have souls, arms, and legs?
whats the difference?
just because we look different,
doesn’t mean we are a different species, mutants or freaks of nature.
What is the difference?
Yesterday, Mom called me and told me that “If I want to go say my final goodbyes to Mommie, I might want to go as soon as I could.” David and I had plans already, but I had an emotional breakdown while at our plans, so we dropped everything and went to see Mommie. She was sedated on morphine, every so often it seemed like her chest would ‘jump’ as if struggling to breathe, her eyes were closed, but they told me she could hear me. I told her “I love you, Mommie. Dad, Mom, Jared, and I love you. David, my fiance loves you.” There were other people in the room, so I just held her hand and thought the other things I wanted to tell her, hoping she could feel them telepathically. As I talked to her and said my silent prayers, holding her hand, she squeezed mine a little bit once or twice. David and I also visited with my aunts in the room about family things to kind of ease the tension a little bit. Mom texted me this morning and told me, Mommie had passed away this morning. Mom and my aunt seem to think, maybe she was holding on for me. maybe she was. I don’t know.
After I found out about her death though, I was inspired to write something up; I may share it at the funeral, I may not. I will try, but I may breakdown half-way through it. Only one way to know for sure: Do it in fear. Fortitude! Only for you, Mommie. Love you.
We are here to remember the life of Ruby “Mommie” Cormier; Sister, Mother, Grandmother, great-grandmother, friend, and child of God. We are also here to remember the love we all shared for her and the fond memories we shared with her: those good memories are what will get us through this tough period as we say our final goodbyes to her Earthly form, but it is only a temporary goodbye; we all hope and pray to see her again when we leave this Earthly life.
My earliest memories of Mommie was about 2 or 3 years old, going almost every weekend when they lived in Lewisburg, Louisiana; she always had a Sippy cup of coffee milk waiting for me, and when Poppee would call me the pet name “Sack of Shit,” (which question, how is that a pet name; but go figure with those Cormiers) Mommie would always argue, “No poppee, she is a sack of sugar.”
I remember her and my nanny (Martha) accompanying us a few times to Shreveport when I was at Shriners Hospital for dr. appointments. When she moved to the apartments in Lafayette, I remember walking with her to the mailbox and along the way, she would “show me off,” to her neighbors and be all “This is my youngest granddaughter. She’s my baby.” She would brag to anyone who would listen about that time when I was just an infant, “I couldn’t hold my bottle with my arms, so I held them with my feet.” As I got older, I got so “sick” of hearing that story and a little embarrassed when she would tell it to my friends, but I also knew that she was proud of me and had a deep love for me.
Mommie enjoyed many things: going to church, going to a rosary, doing bingo, going to the casino- for her 80th birthday, Mom even made her a cake that looked like a slot machine! She also loved her coffee and beignets. She sure enjoyed when we would take her to coffee depot in Scott, Louisiana for beignets and coffee; That was one of her “elements,” Coffee, beignets, and socializing with family and the waitresses at the restaurant who happened to know the family.
In 2012, when in St. Louis for Halo Traction, she came to spend a week with me. The first night she got turned around and I ended up having to walk her downstairs, to the parent housing side of the hospital. The whole walk she kept apologizing, but I was all “Mommie, it’s okay. The hospital is pretty confusing. I just learned it because I been here for almost 3 months.”
During 2016, when Trump was running election, which she was all “go trump,” and don’t get me wrong, I am not anti-Trump, I may not agree with everything he does but he is human, but anyway, we were talking and she must’ve just remembered Poppee’s last few good years because I heard stories in his younger days, he wasn’t that great of a person, but Mommee was all “If Poppee was still alive, he’d make a good president.” I swear, I nearly choked on my drink and did a spit-take when she said that. I think that was my first clue that she was starting to get dementia a little bit. But it was kind of good that she only remembered the good side of him too. She didn’t hold onto anger and hurt from the bad years. Or maybe she just forgave him, I don’t know. If it was just her forgiveness of all the hurt he had caused her in the past, then that is proof of the good person she was and I am almost definite she got her angel wings.
She also took in others besides her family; she took in Mom’s family- we often took her to family get-togethers at Moms family- she loved all the little kids and would love on them. She took in my friends as if her own grandkids and when they called her, “Mrs. Cormier,” she would correct them “No, it’s Mommie.” She would sit and have coffee with neighbors at her apartment complex, even those that had slight mental disabilities (one guy in particular, which I cannot remember his name at the moment.) She was also a huge animal lover, as proof of her playing with my dogs when she would come to visit, and she loved her cat, Socks; until Mommie had to go into the nursing home and we had to re-home Socks. She even took in my (now ex-boyfriend) when we were dating, and she even accepted my now-fiance’ David, who she loved to give lots of kisses on the cheek to, and he loved them back. She was a very sweet, loving lady, but boy if you got on her “shit list,” look out, she stood her ground. I guess that’s where I got that from! HAHA!
She was just an overall loving person and genuinely very happy until dementia started in and it affected her mood and perspective at times, but before dementia, she was a great model of what we should strive to live our lives as.
Sure, I had plans for her to be at future events: when I got married, got my bachelors/masters/ or whatever other college degrees, see me start my own career and chase my dreams, possibly see me have a family of my own; but sadly, life is never promised to pan out how we want, and sure, I will miss her being in attendance physically at these major events, but she will always be there in spirit and in my heart.
Bright side is I now have another angel, looking out for me. Love you, Mommie.
A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.
I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?
If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.
For as long as I can remember, shopping always was stressful and a meltdown for me. As a girl, I loved the idea of new clothes and shoes, but a lot of times, the stuff I like a lot, don’t fit the way I like or at all, and I end up having to compromise on an item I wasn’t as crazy about but fit better.
As a female, especially around the teen years, you would probably be shocked to know that I did not enjoy shopping. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved getting new clothes, but when you are a preteen/teenager, who is the only one her age still shopping in children’s department, it gets to be a little flustering.
It wasn’t just the fact that I wasn’t in the “correct” size clothing/ department for my age, it was also the trying on process. I’d grab tons of styles I thought were “cool” and “normal teen girl” fashions that were in children’s size department, but half of the time, maybe only 1 thing I had brought into the fitting room, actually fit and looked good on me, due to my posture and body due to the curve of my Scoliosis/Kyphosis at the time.
If something I really liked/picked out, didn’t fit, my whole world would shatter. I’d lose the joy of shopping for new clothes and have a tantrum in the store; having a “pity-party” and just give up looking, saying I wanted to go home. Thank God, Mom never gave into that, or I’d have gotten nothing. She would pull me aside, and we’d settle on whatever did fit, even if I wasn’t as crazy about that choice, as I was for the thing that I picked out, but didn’t fit. I wasn’t 100% happy about the choices during that time, but it was about 70%, so it was a compromise.
Another thing that was a pain to shop for was shoes! Due to my Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome, I have weak ankles, so I could never wear heels for dress shoes, only flats; but also, I had to have “high Top” sneakers for ankle support. Do you know how hard it is to find “high top” sneakers nowadays? If we got them the same day we went looking for them, we were lucky, after having to search several shoe stores of course. I remember one time, we searched all over Lafayette and Opelousas for high top sneakers and ended up having to wait because we couldn’t find any, thankfully my old ones weren’t so tight that I couldn’t wear them anymore. Shoe shopping was another meltdown. For formal/special occasions, I loved to dress up, and I’d see these lovely heels, but, no, I couldn’t get them because of my weak ankles; I didn’t cry about that, because I knew “can’t wear them,” but I would say “Man, I wish I didn’t have weak ankles, Those heels are so pretty. I’d look so hot in them!” I always had to go with flats, usually, I got ballet slippers, which were easy to slip on and off, so I didn’t mind. The real struggle was for sneakers, because at the time Converse shoes were getting really popular and I wanted what everyone else got, or some really girly shoes; considering the only place we’d usually find high-tops were in boys/men/ or athletic shoes; Half the time, I was wearing boy shoes, and I got teased “Jamie’s wearing boy shoes, Jamie’s wearing boy shoes. She wants to be a boy.” When I couldn’t find shoes that I liked, that were also high tops, I’d have a meltdown like I would when clothes shopping; pitching a fit in the store, and giving up.
Eventually, I gave up trying to fit in, gave up trying to avoid the teasing, because it was something I couldn’t change. It wasn’t like anyone from school would see me in the clothes anyway since uniforms were mandatory. It was just the shoes they’d see, and I couldn’t help that I had to have ankle support, so anytime someone would start to tease me, I’d stop them and say “You know what? Yes, I am in boy’s shoes, but I have weak ankles and need the support for my feet. It’s something I cannot help, but you know what? I got a great personality and don’t deserve this teasing. I have people who love me, and I am going to start loving who I am and things that make me different. Yes, I will have bad days and feel bad about myself and my differences, but I will get over them; whereas you will always be an insecure jerk-off who teases others because you have nothing better to do with your sad pathetic life, so I suggest that you shut up and get a life,” and I’d walk away, or once I got in Jr high school and my “dynamite temper fuse” blew up, I’d start fighting, hitting, and kicking; but I always stood up for myself and never backed down. You know what they say, Dynamite comes in tiny packages, and I am a prime example of that phrase when it comes to people teasing me, teasing or discrimination against special needs individuals, or anyone giving my friends/family problems; I am there, ready to fight, take names, and kick butt. Dynamite Jamie! HAHA!
However, After my 2012 surgery, shopping had gotten a lot easier to find nice clothes that also fit great; but like all good things, it came to an end over the years, and now I have the answer of why: My spinal fusion rods are broken, and my Kyphosis started to get worse again- so that poor posture in my body was back, especially my hips/waist area making my belly protrude out like I am fat or something, when in fact, I am at the perfect weight for my size. Then almost all dresses are fitted nowadays in the waist area; So annoying!
Any other #disabled especially those with #physicalDisabilities have troubles with clothes shopping? Especially #girls #women? I have a wedding tomorrow and had to go to several goodwill shops before I found something not #fitted and #tight and actually looked good on me. Times likes these make me wanna make #clothesLines for people with #physicalDisabilities. But I’m not good at drawing. I have the ideas in my head, but when I try to put to paper, never looks right. Ugghhh.