Tag: lucy

H(old) O(nto) P(ositive) E(xpectations)

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

“Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again.”

IMG_1823This week has been a test of wills. Strength. Physical. Mental. Emotional. I’ve been through it all. Some I’ve “won.” Some I’ve simply given into. Broken down. But, most of the time, “where there’s a will, I’ve found a way.” In a week of physical challenges, I pushed myself to the max. Surpassed my goals. I believed my physical struggle paralleled Lucy’s pain. Her suffering. If she could battle on, so could I. I maxed out my times on the treadmill. I held a plank for 11 minutes and 50 seconds, all the while praying for Lucy’s recovery. Trembling, aching, I willed myself on. If I could do it, she could do it. Crazy? Maybe. But hopefully, she’s got my fighting spirit. Two years ago I was told I’d never be able to run. Never do a sit-up. Much less hold a plank for nearly 12 minutes. I was using a walker. Well, I showed them. Now it’s Lucy’s turn to show us.

hope 3While I H(old) O(nto) P(ositive) E(xpectations), I’m fighting a new battle. The Angels of Hope vs. the Demons of despair. I am cheering for the Angels. I believe their perseverance and positivity will beat the Demons. But in the silence, I slip. When the tears fall, I lose my way. The Demons tug and pull, struggling to bring me down. Take away the hope. But I will myself back. I won’t give up. Not on myself. Or my precious pup.

hope 2Hope is a funny thing. We use the word so casually. We hope to win the lottery. We hope our kids will behave. We hope it does or doesn’t rain. But there’s that other hope. That hope that we hold onto with all our might. That’s the hope I’m talking about. The Angel of Hope. The one that makes me believe. Believe there are possibilities. Even when the odds are against me. It’s the candle that flickers. Down to the wick. Almost darkness. And then. A flash of light. A burst of flame. Hope. No one gave me hope. They just told me no. NEVER. You will NEVER run again. You will NEVER be the same. You will NEVER be able to do “this.” You will NEVER be able to do “that.” At one time I believed them. I thought I’d never walk upright. Well, I showed them. I’m here now. Walking. Running. Lifting. LIVING. Beating their odds. It was slow. Painful. And took a lot of patience. I imagine it’s the same for Lucy right now. Slow. And horribly painful. But I hold onto HOPE. Believe. It is the only path to healing and happiness. Until the road brings us back home. Together.

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Pennies from Heaven for Lucy

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

IMG_1412To know her is to love her. But even those who don’t, love her too. Everyone loves Lucy. It’s hard not to. Precious face. Big brown eyes. Melt your heart. Little ears. Perk at the sound of her name. Peppy. Loving. Loyal. A big dog in a little dog’s body. This beloved pup is fighting with all of her might. And it’s breaking my heart. She’s battling the demons. But I’ve got to get her to fight harder. Get her to eat. I packed her favorites today. Little containers of chicken. Scrambled eggs. Cooked baby carrots. She turned her head. Looked at me with sad eyes. As if to say,”No mama. Not today.” I held the food in my hand. Under her nose. Just try a little. A taste. A smidgeon. Nothing. She turned away. Closed her eyes. Curled in my arms. And I let her be.

IMG_1803“Mama” and “mini angels” came today. She moved her eyes. But no sound. No tongue. Silence. Stillness. Sadness.

I had a sign today. I believe Gregger was telling me everything would be okay. Some of you will think I’m crazy. Off my rocker. But I’ll take whatever I can get right now. Whatever comfort comes my way. I need something to hold on to. Because I’m hanging by a thread. I was working out. My happy place. OrangeTheory Fitness. Surrounded by good people. Energy. HiFullSizeRendergh spirits. I had been in the same spot for nearly an hour. Really hadn’t moved much. Been following the workout as scripted for the day. As I went to do my umpteenth set of tricep extensions, I was distracted by something shiny between my feet. It had not been there before. I had been doing this for nearly an hour. In. The. Same. Spot. But there it was. As clear as day. Heads up. A shiny penny. I nearly burst into tears. I picked it up. Held it. And stuck it inside my shoe. This was the fourth time this had happened to me. All when I needed a sign of hope. There it was. A penny from heaven.

Crazy or not, I’ll hold onto hope. Belief. They say pennies are a sign from loved ones. A sign Gregger is watching over me. Loves me. Wants me to know he’s okay. And I’ll be okay too. He has only left me pennies. Signs of new beginnings. And, for today, THINK POSITIVE! Release my fear and focus on what I want to see in my life. What could be more fitting than that! What more could I need? Protection. Reassurance. Comfort. He was watching over Lucy. Watching over me. He would help me through this horrific ordeal. And all would be okay.

I started to believe this afteIMG_1806r my grandfather’s passing. I don’t remember the exact incident. Where or when. I just remember it happening. And I knew. He was there. But since Gregger’s passing, this is #4. Four significant times. Four times when I needed him most. And this is his way of coming through. Of being there for me. Wrapping his arms around me. Hugging me. And telling me, “Everything will be ok.” I will believe him. I will hold onto hope. And I will keep praying for my little Lucy.

“Don’t pass by that penny when you’re feeling blue. It may be a penny from heaven that an Angel’s tossed to you.”

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Praying for Lucy

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

IMG_1773It’s hard for me to write. My emotions are all over the place. My mind is scattered. I’m sad. Angry. Heartbroken. Empty. We’ve all heard the saying, “Bad things happen to good people.” But sometimes bad things happen to good pups.” Innocent beings with big hearts. It happened to mine. My little Lucy. And now we’re both suffering. Lucy was mauled, thrashed, and beaten in a senseless act of terror. Torture. Innocently and mindlessly walking from the mailbox. Sniffing the grass. Playful. And then. In a nanosecond, her life changed. My life changed. Grabbed by the throat. Tossed to her back. Taken into the jaws of this “creature,” Lucy was helpless. I was paralyzed. I screamed. Yelled. Cried.“Stop. Help.” I threw my belongings down. Mail, phone strewed across the driveway. The sidewalk. But the torture continued. I dropped Lucy’s leash hoping that would free her. She broke free but ran in the wrong direction and was tackled to the ground. The beast grabbed her by the neck, thrashed her again, and tossed her viciously to the ground. She jawed her again, looking like Lucy was going to be her next meal.  fight

I am not sure how it happened. I am not even sure when it happened. I just know it did. And I’m so grateful. Somehow Lucy escaped the clenched jaws. She wriggled her way free and ran as fast as her mini legs could carry her. My legs were frozen. But I flew into my garage where I found Lucy cowering in a corner. Shaking. Whimpering. In pain. Fear. I lifted her into my arms. Sobbing uncontrollably. I hugged her tightly. Rocked her. Told her it would be okay. But it wouldn’t. How did I know?

fight 1I held her for hours. Finally had to put her down. She normally would go to her bed. Her blanket. But suddenly she was gone. I couldn’t find her. She was burrowed under my bed. Deep. She was hiding. And she wouldn’t come to me. It broke my heart. This was my baby who came running at the sound of her name. Nothing. She cowered. She trembled. I pretended I was leaving. The door beeped. And I saw her peek her little nose out. I was able to get her before she burrowed back again. I carefully set her on her blanket. Right in my closet. She loved that spot. Warm. Cozy. Comforting. I was right there with her. And then suddenly she was gone again. There was no way. She could not have passed me without my noticing. I searched under the bed. I searched other rooms. I could not find her. I pushed my clothes. Back and forth. Forward and back. Where are you?  And there she was. Snuggled deep into the wall. This was breaking my heart. Where did my bouncy, peppy girl go? What did this beast do to her?

fight 3Since there weren’t any piercings or punctures I thought we were home free. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I didn’t see the massive contusion on her belly, hidden by her puppy hair. But the vet saw it right away. X-rays. No broken bones. Okay. We’re doing good. We are grateful. This could have been much worse. But the worst was yet to come.

IMG_1778Lucy stopped eating. Barely drank. Four days. I spoke to the vet. Time to intervene. Let’s see the doc. Again. The hematoma was swollen. Not good. Suspicious. A little temp. Scary. Uh-oh. So off we went. New place. New docs. Sonogram. And then the bad news poured in. The REAL news. The REAL facts. Massive internal injuries. Lack of puncture wounds was meaningless. That beast had destroyed her insides! Those jaws clamped down with such ferocity, she was looking to kill.  Hernia, hematoma, spleen, and, worst of all, pancreas. These were the words thrown at me. Surgery. Critical. Life-threatening. May not make it. You may have to make a decision none of us want to make. Hope for the best. NO! This could not be. How was I going to do this?

Friday was an eternity. She made it out of surgery, but the doctor’s last words were “hope for the best.” I wasn’t relieved. I wasn’t assured. I was sick. To my stomach. Physically sick. Sleep? Forget it. Food? Wouldn’t digest. I keep reliving the moment over and over. A bad dream. A nightmare. I just want to wake up. With Lucy next me. 

IMG_2140Ashley, Tyler, Bella and I went to visit her yesterday. A plastic cone around her head. A feeding tube bulging out of her neck. IV tube in her tiny leg. Bandages. Wraps. But she looked at us. Puppy eyes. Lucy eyes. She stuck out her little tongue. She gave a few licks. And then she whimpered. I held her close. I told her I loved her. I told her I need her to come home. She looked at me. I think she knows. She’s a fighter. I’m praying. Friends and family are praying. And I am so grateful for all the love and support. I wouldn’t be standing on my feet without it. So thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Lucy is my lifeline. She was my savior after Gregger died. She has helped me through the worst of times. I only hope that I can be her lifeline. I will bring her through the worst of this time. And we will travel through the rest of our lives together.

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Why He Loved His Lucy

Why He Loved His Lucy

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

lucyFor years, Gregger called me his “Lucy.”  While I was no blazing redhead, I certainly matched her wacky naiveté. I don’t think I always had my head in the clouds. I want to believe I had a pretty good head on my shoulders. As a first born I was organized to a fault, obsessively disciplined, and crazy cautious. I was focused, determined, had my eye on the ball. I was in control and fairly self-controlled (although my kids might beg to differ on that one!). I think all hell broke loose when my three kids entered three different schools with multiple activities. Maybe juggling all those school, sports, dance, and social events juggled a few of my brain cells. I’m not sure. But somewhere in those years I got a little loopy.

Around the same time frame, I developed a severe “I Love Lucy” obsession. I’m not sure why or where, but I LOVED LUCY! I watched every rerun, over and over. I’d wake up early in the morning or stay up late at night to catch my favorite episodes on Nick at Nite or Hallmark. I collected every piece of memorabilia from cookie jars, dolls, coffee mugs, and lamps to coasters, magnets, and one of the ugliest purses you’ve ever seen! Holidays were great for my kids. Get mom something with LUCY! So my collection grew until I had no room left for LUCY in my life. Now Lucy is neatly tucked away under bathroom cabinets, in hallway closets, and, as unfortunate as it sounds, buried in the garage. I still love LUCY, but my obsession is a bit more grounded. As much as I hate to admit it, I still watch reruns every morning at 5:00 am. She makes me smile. She makes me laugh. She reminds me of the lighter side of life. And she reminds me of the great love between husband, wife, and friends.

I was Gregger’s kooky sidekick. His Lucy. He responded to my quirky behavior with an emphatic “L-U-C-Y! You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” And most of the time I did. It was his way of diverting anger. I could deal with that. And most of the time I had some “splainin” to do. lucy 3

  • Before the days of debit cards, I wrote checks everywhere. We didn’t adopt the “card” for a long time. Gregger was a cash and carry kind of guy. He forgot to give me cash one day, so I carried the checkbook with me, wrote a check for the groceries and came home. Later that night he was preparing to pay bills and asked for the checkbook. I knew I had used it at the grocery store that day. I remembered carrying it home. I thought it was in my purse. Nope. I looked in the car. Nope. I searched every grocery bag. I went so far as to dig through the trash. UGH! I knew I had that damn checkbook! So while I was searching and searching, Gregger was screaming…L-U-C-Y!!!! You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!!! And I certainly did! He was not a happy camper. I decided to start dinner and recommence my search after filling everyone’s stomachs. As I went to the outside freezer to grab something, sitting on the shelf was my CHECKBOOK! I ran into the house, checkbook in hand, screaming, “I told you so.” Why not put the checkbook in the freezer? Isn’t that where everyone keeps it? Well, I didn’t really know how to “splain” that one, but at least it was resolved.
  • The next time I experienced a “Lucy” I was alone. It was a beautiful day in Scottsdale. I was driving with my top down, sunglasses on, hair flying in the wind, headed out for some basic errands. First stop – the bank. It was a quick run-in so I popped out of my car, did what I had to do, and was back in a flash. Checking for lipstick on the teeth or something else amiss, I pulled down my visor mirror. I was horrified to see that I had walked into the bank with my sunglasses on (that’s not a  problem), with ONE LENS IN and ONE LENS completely MISSING!!! I had no idea I was walking around like that! Really? How could I not know! I took a selfie, sent it to Gregger and gave him a good laugh for the day!
  • I must have a problem with sunglasses because my major LUCY occurred at Starbucks one afternoon. I was having coffee with a dear friend and excused myself to use the bathroom. I hooked my sunglasses onto my shirt, went inside, “did” what I needed to do, and came back outside. I was horrified to discover my sunglasses were gone! Did I leave them on the table? Did they drop in the bathroom? These were brand new sunglasses and NOT the kind that I needed to lose! I ran back to the bathroom. I searched around the toilet, in the toilet, under the toilet, in the trash, everywhere. The sunglasses were gone, gone, gone! I went to the counter. I thought for sure someone had turned them in. No. I went back outside. I searched the ground. I was literally shaking. I asked the girl who had used the bathroom right after me if she had seen any glasses. She looked at me like I was nuts! I thought maybe she took them! I was angry. What the heck? Sunglasses don’t just disappear! I called Gregger. I told him I thought someone took my glasses. I was really reaching at that point. What should I do? Breathe. Calm down. They are just glasses. About 10 minutes later, I walked back inside to check with the manager again. I walked back to the restroom to do a once over. The bathroom was closed. Something was wrong. It was backed up. The manager was in there working on it. And guess what he found? MY SUNGLASSES! DOWN the toilet! They had fallen off my shirt, into the toilet. I had FLUSHED them! OMG! Embarrassing to the max! The ultimate of LUCYS!!! I certainly had some “splainin” to do! I think Gregger was rolling on the floor with laughter when I called him. His L–U–C–Y could have been heard across the country and rightly so! It took me a while to show my face at that Starbucks again. I’m sure they had a good laugh themselves! L-U-C-Y topped herself on that one!
  • About a week or so after Gregger died and we were settling back at home (well, as much as we could), I was pulling out of the garage. I hate parking in the smaller third car parking space but for one reason or another I had been moved into that space. Fully equipped with backup camera, beepers, lights, and everything that could prevent me from running into any walls or people, I slowly backed up. Swerving to the left I heard an unbearable CRUNCH, CRACKLE, CRUNCH and I literally screamed at the top of my lungs! This could not be happening. I had somehow jammed the front into the side of the garage so perfectly as to pull it completely to the ground! I dropped to my knees in tears. I was screaming to Gregger. Why? How could I be so stupid? I had pulled out of here for 20 years and never done anything so stupid. And then I heard his voice. “L-U-C-Y…you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!” I actually started laughing. I realized it was just a car. It could be fixed. I would get it back. It was so unimportant in the scheme of things. Let it go. And it was easy to ‘splain.’ I was distracted. I was thinking about Gregger. I had my head in the clouds. I was missing him. He would tell me it’s ok. So I had to let it go and let it be ok.

I loved being Gregger’s Lucy. If I was a little wacky, I’d rather be wacky with him. He got me. And I’m sure he’s up there saying, “Lucy…you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

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