What are you working on?

On yourself, I mean. I realized the other day, in conversation with friends, that the journey I'm on right now with God is about freedom. Freedom from all the man-made rules I grew up with in our church and faith-life. Rules my mother still freaks over if I break (and I still react like a 6 year old when she does....cringing, and back-peddling my resolve...another thing I'm working on in tandem with the first).

I/we started going to a different church about 6 months ago. After thinking and praying about it for about 2 years. Now I wonder what took me so long, lol. But the one thing I can honestly say the last church did for me was WAKE. ME. UP. to the bondage I was in from "the rules"...

It was little things...like looking around and seeing even the "good little old ladies" wearing dress pants b/c they were sick of the rule that states "Thou shalt wear dresses to church, even in Canada, where the winter temperatures reach -42 and your legs turn blue."

Like having the Pastor's wife hand me a piece of gum to chew during the sermon, then missing the entire sermon b/c I was waiting for God to STRIKE. ME. DEAD. That would, of course, be because I broke the rule that states "Thou shalt not chew gum in church!"

Those rules. You know, the ones FIRMLY grounded in Scripture. Insert eye-roll here.

The new church, well, I can only say it is blowing the rules all to heck and back. Jeans. JEANS, I say! Sandals...on the MEN! NO ties...on either the women OR the men...although I suppose if ties are in style for women, they'd wear them. Just saying.

Drums. Loud speakers for the guitars. Folding chairs. Jeans. A Minister who wears jeans! (sorry...still stuck on that one) Hand raising. Front-row sitting. Babies welcome. Giggling allowed. Timmies coffee accepted. (in the SANCTUARY, people!)

UCofC, CCC, PCofC person in serious rule-breaking shock here. And you know what? The shock is good. It's freeing. I'm learning more and more about the Father who wants us there. In church. Fellowshipping and praising. Regardless of what we're wearing, or what non-existant pew we're sitting in.

I haven't worn jeans yet..but I may get there someday soon. I can say, the girls and I are flourishing in our new church home. And that's a good thing.

Neat experience...

The girls and I have been attending a new church (well, new to us, lol) for a couple of months now. About a month ago, a young lady came up to me after church as we were in the entranceway and asked if I was James' mom. I said, yes I was/am....I thought to myself that she looked a bit familiar....

She told me she'd been James' caregiver about 6 years ago. I remembered her...she and her twin sister shared the job for the summer...

She told me she had just graduated nursing school...






....and that that summer with James had shaped her life, and helped her realize she wanted to be a nurse...all because of him. I promptly lost it. Bawled like a baby right there....











My boy lives on. I don't know if I will EVER see the full scope of his effect on people during his short life. His funeral overwhelmed me with the sheer numbers of people he'd touched....and two years after that, people are still coming forward.

Thanks Erin....you made my year.

Wow...time flies, and things change...

My last post, I said I didn't know what I'd do when my new job ended...well, it ended up NOT ending. In fact, I find myself the owner (as of April 1st) of the salon....wow. One thing I always said I wouldn't do....own a salon. I DO detest the paperwork, but I still love my ladies. Fran has passed away, and others have come to my salon. I enjoy all of them. I wish it would grow faster, but I'm stumped as to how. Spent money on an ad in the paper...nada. Have ads up everywhere I can think of, nada. Time will tell. The residents pay the bills though, plus a tad more, so I guess I have a bit of time....

On to other things...the girls had their week at Camp Cherith...Melissa's first year, and she loved it!

Three weeks until our holidays in Port Huron. Can't wait.

Almost two years since my boy left us. My arms still ache for him every day. But I know I will see him again, and I know he is healed. Thank you, Lord. How do non-believers survive this pain? I've wondered that every day for almost two years now.

Life is crazy....but "It's a Wonderful Life"!

Sorry, but with Christmas fast approaching, the quote "had to be done". :)

Time flies these days. In August, I started a new part-time job. I didn't quit my old one, I just added one. A friend of a friend owns a salon in a retirement home. She was about to have her first baby, and was looking for someone to take over the salon for her maternity leave. Thankfully, a different friend found out she had my name in time to warn me...so I wasn't totally gob-smacked when the phone rang 3 hours later with the offer.

Can I just say? Working with the seniors was my favourite part of any salon job I had....they have led such incredible lives, and have such rich advice to share! And this new job has not disappointed. From feisty Audrey and Laura, who proudly wear red each Friday to honour our troops, to Fran who weighs 96 pounds soaking wet, and sneaks chocolates like they're going out of style....from happy-go-lucky Blanche to my British "lady" Ella, I love them all....

It leads me to wonder...what am I going to do when this job ends? These ladies have already won my heart. It seems bizarre to think that someday soon I might not see them twice a week! I'm thinking Tuesday afternoons I might just have to join the weekly Scrabble game in the diningroom, whether I work there or not!

I haven't yet figured out how to find the time to "do" everything...laundry piles up, dust bunnies terrorize the living. I have no idea how mothers who work 5 days per week do everything! The Proverbs 31 woman was nuts! I'm thankful to grab onto the explanation that she is a compilation of several women, not just one...b/c otherwise, I don't have a prayer!

It feels like I only post after funerals...

Weird, but seemingly true. Not sure what that says about me, but oh well!

One year has passed. Two days are affected. The actual Civic Holiday Monday, and the 4th, whatever day that may fall on. This year, a Tuesday.

Monday we were still at Splash Canyon, a diversion, having fun. And driving home, through our wonderful scenic Ontario countryside.

Tuesday I spent at an old friend's house, lending her my shoulder, my dish-washing hands, my ears, and my expertise as a mother who has buried a son. Her son, one of twins, her baby, passed away on Friday night in a tragic farm accident. He was three. He was beautiful.

Strangely, or perhaps not, it helped me to spend the day there. It helped me, to help her. It helped me to be able to look her in the eye and assure her her numbness was normal, and would leave. To assure her her memory loss was normal, and would leave. To assure her her frustration with others was normal, and would leave. To share with her, and learn from her, of the Father's goodness, even in this time of sorrow and pain.

It helped both of us to see her other boys laughing. To make our hands busy doing for them.

And last night, when I could not sleep, I realized my boy had greeted another friend at Heaven's gates. I don't think I ever realized he might have to greet someone younger than he.

This morning I went back, and helped to coordinate and dress 5 males of various ages in a variety of outfits. I teased the twin, who has lost his other half, into clothing, gigles, and a wild leap off the kitchen table into my arms. Nothing has ever sounded better than those innocent giggles. Nothing has ever felt better than that clean, warm, squiggly body in my arms.

And my Father reminded me that life is always so....joy and comfort mixed with the pain and sorrow.

And that's what gets us through.

Tomorrow night, two families who have been down the same sorrowful road of burying a young boy far too soon will be wearing off steam with a whipped cream fight in the back yard.

And that, my friends, is why we're on this earth. To share and to love. And to get a little messy in the backyard with food.

Another day, another funeral.

March 31st a wonderful friend and man of God passed away, after suffering from a horrible debilitating disease for over 2 years. I went to his funeral- my first funeral since James'- and cried and worshipped the whole way through.

Murray had been our MPP for years, then a familiar voice on CKNX as Farm Editor. I remember getting the MPPs' Christmas postcards in the mail as a child, then hearing his wonderful sonorous voice from the radio while milking cows, or cleaning stables through my teen years.

Ironically, at the age of 23, I met the young man who would become my husband, and as I got to know him, I found out he was related to Murray through his mother's side! Years passed, and we moved to live on Brian's family farm, now owned by his brother. We started going to church in the nearby town. I met, and became friends with a wonderful woman by the name of Stephanie, and as our friendship grew, I found out she was Murray's daughter! Murray and his wife also attended the same church, and I was blessed to get to know them personally, and to be blessed by this wonderful man's faith and attitude.

James loved him. He would start chuckling the moment Murray's booming voice came within hearing range. Whether it was at church, or on the radio, James KNEW his friend Murray. After Murray became ill, we prayed and worried while Dr after Dr failed to discover the diagnosis. Murray finally became dependant upon a g-tube for nourishment.

James was thrilled. It may seem odd to others, but finally, James' good friend had something James had! And James didn't consider his g-tube to be an issue! I was able to share James' excitement with Murray, and even though by this time Murray was having trouble speaking, the smile that spread across his face and the sound of his deep chuckles remain with me even now.

So I praised and wept my way through Murray's funeral, never once looking at the date on the program. Until the final hymn.

April 4, 2009.

8 months to the day since James met the Lord.

I lost it. Seriously. Thankfully no one heard my sobs coming from inside the church library where I hid.

Afterwards, at the reception, I told Murray's wife, Pat, that I knew in my heart that James had been waiting at the Gate to welcome his friend Murray to Heaven. There's no way a friend of James' would not get a hero's welcome. No way.

Two friends. Healed.

Not in the way we had hoped when we prayed fervently for healing, but in the way that God knew was best.

And that's ok. It really is. For God has numbered our days before we are even created in the womb. And God knows what He's doing. Thank you Father, for healing two friends, and for comforting us as we grieve their absence from our lives.

Experiences pt.2

I'm an airhead....I completely forgot until now that one of the new experiences I had last week was starting the arrangements for James' headstone. A dear woman from our church happens to be a very talented stone artist. She has agreed to do James' headstone for us.

So, we headed to London to pick up our new trailer, and phoned her while we were there to see if she could squeeze us into her day- we already had an appointment set for me to meet with her in Wingham the next week, but that would be by myself, and Brian was with me that day.

She said "Sure", so off we went. Sans trailer...the guys at the dealership were still doing their thing.

I thought I was ready.

I was not.

Let me simply say that I sincerely hope no one on the earth ever has to do the same thing again before Christ redeems His people.

On the plus side, Cheryl is awesome. And James' stone, I'm sure, will be an awesome testament to his life and who he was.

On the negative side- emotionally and financially- headstones are priced up there along with diamonds, platinum, and uranium. Nice headstones go up from there.

http://customrockcreations.ca/

New experiences...some good, some bad.

I guess that's life, isn't it? All the good, and the bad, added together makes a life. A pretty good one too, in my mind.

We've started to morph a new family plan into action. Losing James rocked our world, there's no doubt, but the honest truth is it also set us free in a lot of ways.

That will shock some people. That we would admit that. I love him dearly, and would not trade a second of being his mom, but truthfully, having a severely physically disabled child restricts your fmily activities to a large degree.

The girls loved him too, and were incredibly generous about the restrictions we faced. But I have to admit, it's easy to get used to "normalcy" and being able to say things like "Let's go to a movie." or "Why don't we go camping this summer?". Incredibly easy.

So we took the plunge and purchased our first trailer. Used, and a hybrid, which made it much more affordable than the glorified houses on wheels some people own....but it suits our needs perfectly, and it's ours. Then we purchased a truck....and in doing so passed another "post James" threshhold....no minivan. No room for wheelchairs, feeding pumps, seating paraphenalia, and all that goes with severe CP. I've driven a minivan since he got too big for me to swing easily into a car seat....and pictured myself driving one when I was old and grey, to be frank.

Brian has quit smoking, to better enjoy (and pay for) our new lifestyle. Cold turkey, and I must say- he's doing amazingly well!

53 days until Disney too.

I almost don't recognize us! But it's my life, and I like it.

Woohooooo! Having a "magical day"!

Today it is 89 days until we begin our first ever Walt Disney World vacation! That's right...I have managed to accumulate a contingent of 5 weirdos who have never in their lives set foot in the place that every other person in Narth America has been to. Or so it seems.

And today I received an email from our Disney Travel Agent, a wonder named Cindy, stating she had managed to secure ALL the Advance Dining Reservations we requested, exactly WHEN we wanted them! This, people, is apparently as rare as hidden Mickeys! As well, our reservations for both the Bibbity Bobbity Salon, and the Pirate Cruise are also locked in!

We have also been blessed to the heavens by a wonderful lady who had planned on taking her step-grandchildren this year, until her son-in-law requested a divorce and refused to allow the trip. She has gone to ridiculous, but highly appreciated lengths to spoil our girls- whom she has never met- absolutely silly. Passports for Epcot, scrapbooks, jewelry, journals, Disney Dollars, and more. I only "met" this kind lady online, and she has chosen to help make our trip of a lifetime even more memorable, all the while thanking ME for allowing her to do so! Imagine...thanking ME!

I also remembered to go online and do our seat assignments for our flight down....8 more days until I can do the same for the return trip. All is falling into place.

I feel blessed....again.

I am not doing well. There. I said it.

Last Monday I spent the day curled up in my bed sobbing.

Ditto Tuesday. My arms now feel as if I have pulled every muscle in them. But it's b/c they're not around a certain boy. Not because of overwork of any type.

Wednesday and Thursday I managed to keep it together long enough to work.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Down and out with a "cycle from Hell", and a feeling that my head was floating somehwere around three feet above my body. Blood loss and fluid loss may be culprits.

Today. Deep betrayal by a friend who should "know me better". Why does sin continue to surprise me?

Today. I watch Angie Smith's, my hero's, video of her short earthly time with her 4th daughter, Audrey Caroline. And the sobs wracked my body again. For both of us.

And yet. As I said to Angie on her blog (http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com). It IS well with my soul.

Thank you, my Father.

1940-something to 2008...times have changed? Maybe not.

My Grandpa tells a story in his memoire about my Grandma back when they were relative newlyweds. My Grandpa was an inventor/farmer, and a forward thinking man. So when he built their home in the late 1930's he wired it for electricity, even though it was not yet available in their rural area.

He relates the day some years later, when walking up the lane from a day in the fields, that he sees my Grandma- then a young 1940's housewife- running and skipping down the lane towards him, while behind her shone the bright lights provided by their new hydro service, gleaming out of every room of the house! Her joy and pleasure was shining out of her face with the same brilliance of the new lightbulbs throughout their house.

This story sticks in my mind and memory...not only b/c it's hard to equate that young housewife with the much older, calm, and roly-poly Grandma of my memories with the picture he paints, but b/c it struck me then how unappreciative our generation is of all our blessings. Want some light? Flick a switch. Want some heat? Turn up the thermostat.

Today I appreciate. Today I am that (somewhat older than she was) happy housewife, basking in the heat of our new furnace. Today I remembered to thank my Father for His precious blessings.

I rolled out of bed, and as my feet hit the floor, I realized how warm that floor was. Not to mention the air above the floor! For the first time in almost 2 years, the heat was not dependant upon my lighting a fire, coaxing it to life, then shivering over the top of our woodstove until the heat expanded through the downstairs.

I am spoiled. Spoiled beyond my imagining. Help me to appreciate, Father. Help me to treasure your gifts.

I haveth a furnace-eth!!!

WooHooooooo!! I am basking in the warmth of non-Laura made heat!

And enjoying our cats freaking out as they experience heat blasting out of our registers for the first time in their lives! Boots was sashaying past the register in the bathroom when the fan kicked on. Hilarious! I think he hit a record in direct upwards leaps! Then he had to turn about and stalk the draft....Now he's spending a ridiculous amount of time sitting in the bathroom doorway staring at the register....

I didn't realize how much I missed non-woodstove heat until today! Don't get me wrong, I still firmly believe there's no heat as nice as woodstove heat, but this sure is nice! *sigh* I'm going to go stand on a register for a while.

Another day, another 3,000 things accomplished.

I was tired just thinking about today. That was before the alarm clock even rang. I had a million things to do, arrange etc, plus it being one of my work days.

I did it. The only non-accomplished thing was gift wrapping. Again. The gifts up in my closet are starting to think they might go wrapless this year. *sigh* I wish.

Phone calls done. One to the furnace contractor to check on arrival time. 8-8:30 am. Guess that means I'd better switch getting dressed to the FIRST part of my morning routine! Don't want to scare the poor guys!! Dad needs to be here by 8:30, so he can "be here" while they are. It's a work day for me, so we had a teeny bit of conflict there.

One to the guy who blows out laneways in the village. He apparently never answers his phone, and doesn't have an answering machine, despite owning a business, so that one resulted in a call to Mom & Dad to beg them to keep trying him....as I had to work, plus my cell phone was running out of juice quickly. Mom said "Well, he was just HERE a second ago! I'll try and catch him." Guess that explains why he wasn't answering his phone! Gotta love small towns....I got home to find the path blown for the propane tanks in the side yard, so my guess is Mom was able to "hail him" from her front door in time.

One to my sister and brother-in-law's favourite garage...to see if they could fit the van in for a diagnostic on Monday. "Sure! I have openings before that, if you'd like?", says he. Gotta love small towns! The engine light is on, and it's running rough. "What time?", he asks....Oi...well, school's out, I don't have to work....I'm pretty much open that day. "Well..." says he, "If the kids are out of school and you don't have to work, you won't want to be up at the crack of dawn...how about 11???"

Gotta love small towns and smart men!

Get home from work, grab the checkbook and start running around paying bills. Taxes...check. Up to date for the first time in 3 years. Thank you, Lord.

Funeral home....check. Final payment on James' funeral done. Thanks, God.

I still need to write out the cheque for the furnace. And the propane. And the tanks.

Oi, that home equity money is running out quickly. But...once again, it's enough. The Lord provides. We never have an excess, but we always have "enough"...and that's good enough for me.

Stll got the "blaahs", but other good things are happening!

Brian just called, and said our new furnace is being put in this Thursday! Woohoo!! After 14 months of no furnace, and only woodstove heat, we'll be toasty all the time! This is a big hairy deal in the snowbelt of Ontario. B.I.G. lol

We're going with propane....and Brian wrestled the old oil monster (dead as a doornail) out of the basement a week ago...I helped lug the biggest, heaviest part up those miniature stairs, so I'm taking part credit there! The furnace guy we chose to go with said it was awesome that we took it out....that's what happens with small-town, common-sense contractors. Unlike the bigger-town, money-grubber guy who we talked to first...who tried to inform us we were incapable of taking it out ourselves, and wanted to do it for us- for only another $1000+.

Actually, he informed us we "couldn't" take it out. (ie, not allowed) Them's fighting words to our redneck country selves! That iron puppy didn't stand a chance! Phooey on him!

Anyhoo...the furnace goes in on Thursday, then Brian begged and pleaded for a favour from the OTHER small-town, common-sense contractor who does the tanks and hook-up, and he managed to squeeze us into the schedule on Friday. As opposed to "sometime next month?" we got before from everyone....apparently there's a province-wide propane tank shortage??

We'll still use the woodstove to cut costs....but the house will be warm when we fire it up...as opposed to the bone-chilling temperatures we've endured every morning lately. I have to admit....we did well last winter. The girls were not impressed, but got used to it. And Brian and I were both raised in cold old farmhouses with wood heat, so it was a "blast from the past" for us...I'm very thankful for mystery words like "equity" and "re-finance" though, that let us put in this shiny new friend....sentiment only goes so far.

I may just have to hug it as they carry it in. Now, THAT should start some rumours flying! ;)

Christmas blaahs....

I have to admit it, at last. I can't get "into" this Christmas. Everyone nods graciously, and says "Oh, that's normal.", thinking it's b/c of James' passing. But it isn't that. I can't put my finger on "what" it is, but it isn't about James.

The decorations are up (thanks to Brian and the girls), the shortbread is baked (thanks to my wunder-kind chef nephew, Jonathon), the presents are bought....and sitting, unwrapped for the most part, in my closet upstairs.

This is not me. I usually make the Whos down in Whoville look like Christmas slackers! Normally the Christmas tunes are rocking every available second....the gifts are wrapped by December first and ALL under the tree the second it's up (1st weekend in December, like clockwork)....a large variety of cookies are making their way onto my already burdened hips.....and everyone around me rolls their eyes and waits for the New Year to end my ridiculous frenzy of cheer.

This year, as mentioned, other people have done what is done....the music seems to grate on my nerves, and only shortbread is on the menu. This week both girls have their school Christmas concerts, and at this point, I'd rather have flaming bamboo shoots under my nails.

I hope I can "snap to" sometime in the next 11 days. Christmas should be magicla for my kids....I'm in danger of "outing" Santa myself...me, the 40 year old woman who still believes, wants to "out" him...

I wish I could figure out what is wrong....maybe there's a panaceia I could drink?

How embarrassing!

It's embarrassing to come online to your blog and discover you have forgotten about it for over a YEAR! I would have said it had been a good six months, but a YEAR? No way.

So much has happened in that year too. We found a new Homeshare home for James, and he loved it. He had another father figure in this home, a brother, at last, and three big sisters who spoiled him silly. He was so happy, so content.

And then he passed away. Silently, quietly, peacefully, in his sleep. In his sleep in his own bed, with the "extra" family he loved. Not in the hospital alone, or in pain, as I had feared for 13 1/2 years.

I told B when I was campaigning for baby #3 that I had a hole in my heart that needed to be filled. Now I have a different hole. An aching, ragged, torn, bleeding hole.

But my boy, my handsome guy, is healed. I picture him wreaking havoc in the Heavenly realm....missing haloes, harp strings stretched across the Pearly Gates, and skateboarding, skating and just plain old running in places the Archangels never imagined. Street hockey on streets of gold....who could ask for more?

Oi vey...embarrassing moment....

So I'm sitting here, at 12 pm, in my jammies, b/c I have a bad headache and am being a bum....and a loud knock sounds on my door.

I ignore it.

The outside door opens, and in he comes to the inside kitchen door (the main entrance door) and he knocks forcefully again.

I go to the door dressed in my blue fuzzy jammies with chocolate chip cookies and glasses of milk all over them...no bra.....bedhead....

It's a guy running as an independant in the Provincial election next month...and he wants to C-H-A-T!!!!!


Points for him. he managed not to look shocked, or to laugh, and seriously discussed the state of our provincial politics for over 10 minutes!

Shannon....

Aggravating, beautiful, annoying, sparkling, frustrating, terrifyingly smart, argumentative, bright, hard-headed, quick-witted......

She made me sick as a dog during pregnancy.....doubled me over in pain with her kicks......came out running and screaming and hasn't stopped since!

Her intellect scares me....my heart bleeds for her social awkwardness....

She has a soft heart, and quick mind, a ticklish body, a freckled nose, and feet that can almost share my shoes. Strawberry blond hair, green eyes, lithesome body, and sparkling spirit.

She fills my heart with delight, and ages me daily with her antics.....

Mom says she's my punishment for being me. Gee thanks, Mom.

I say she's a miracle.

Thanks, God.

It boggles the mind.

They change as quickly as light sparkling through a crystal in the sunshine. One moment so funny it's hard to drive as they cut up in the back seat, the next squabbling over something so ridiculous it makes you want to rip your hair out.

Talking until your ears bleed....moving until cement child sculpture sounds like a reasonable activity.....then so still and angelic in sleep that you creep ever closer to see their chest rise a millimetre under their pajamas.....

Joy, frustration, love, anger, tears of angst and joy...sometimes both at the same time. Never before has any human being pushed as many of your buttons in such a complete and random pattern.

And yet....you would without a second's hesitation lay down your life. It boggles the mind....and yet. Someone feels this way about me. He willingly gave Himself up...to be tortured, beaten, and publicly humiliated. For me. It boggles the mind.

Summer from Hell....

When we had James 12 years ago, the reality of CP slammed into our lives, and the first 18 months became a blur of hospitals, nightmares, tears, and worry. I actually have few memories of that time, b/c of the stress levels I was living at.

My cousin Suzy had given me a journal as part of his baby gift, and I'm so thankful...looking back on those pages is an eye-opener into a time that is basically blank in my mind.

We went through weeks and months of heartbreak, worry, and stress again, on and off, the last few years as James' needs began to slowly outstrip my ability to care full-time for him, care for myself, and keep two beautiful girls balanced and happy too. Homeshare was the answer to prayer, and God handily whapped me upside the head with the knowledge of the right placement for our fun-loving, giggle-making, beautiful son.

Tina and her home was the answer to pray....a very, VERY (thank you, Lord) obvious answer.

Fast forward 9 blissful months of happy boy, happy family, and slowly regained health and sleep levels for Mom......the phone call that began our decent to Hell on earth.

An anonymous phone call had been placed to CAS.....Tina's new boyfriend, met at church, had a "past".....James has been removed from the home.....

Restless nights, as Tina dug in her under-dog-loving heals at the government demand to dump the boyfriend to return to being James' caregiver. We had no idea what the "past" was, due to privacy laws, but it was plain by CAS' reaction that this was no small issue.

To forgive????? What is the true meaning of forgiveness? Was it even something that needed to be done? Sleepless night followed sleepless night....

Until- the court's verdict, opening the sealed records for our knowledge. Sick. It was all I could do to know throw up as our case manager told me what he had done to his two year old niece.

Decision made. Hands down. Period. God gave us James for a reason, and I will NOT set him up as an experiment for a stranger's rehabilitation.

Revelation. It was not my place to forgive. He had not sinned against me. I don't even know the man.

Realization. An answered prayer may only be the right answer "for a season". Doesn't make it any less right in the past, but time changes everything.

And so the search begins for answer #2...a new home for my amazing boy.....meanwhile, he is safe and secure in a temporary home until his new one is found. A loving woman has chosen to put a helpless boy first. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.