Another Day On the Roller Coaster

Another Day On the Roller Coaster

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/26/22

WARNING: This is not a pretty poem. If you cannot handle reality please move on!

My Dad was home last year at this time for a few weeks. Home health was coming in every day. I would work all day from home, then jump in the car after work every day and drive 20+ miles one way to go help my stepmom care for him. I often had to stop at the store on the way and buy a list of things my Dad wanted. I had a tiny glimmer of hope that he was getting better. I clung to it like a life preserver in the middle of a wild storm on the ocean after a shipwreck. I kept thinking if I just make sure he knows I am never going to give up and I am never going to leave him then he will get through this and be okay. 

By this time last year he started to show signs of weakening. My stepmom and I begged and pleaded with him for several days to go to ER and get checked out. He finally agreed and we took him by ambulance to the local hospital. That was a waste of time because the idiot ER doctor suddenly decided they did not have the equipment to handle a patient with his heart problems. I know that was a lie. I am sure it was actually because he did not have good enough insurance but I cannot prove it. If I could I would sue their asses. 

By New Years Eve last year he was getting much worse. I begged him to go to another ER. He said the only way he would go was if my brother drove him to the Cherokee Nation hospital in Tahlequah. I called my brother numerous times and begged and pleaded with him to take him. He finally begrudgingly agreed after I told him his father's blood was on his hands if he did not come and help him. God forbid it would interfere in his all hallowed New Years Eve plans with his wife. This same brother rarely showed up to see or help my Dad unless it made him look good. It was never about loving my Dad at all.

After my Dad got to Tahlequa, the doctors there wanted to admit him but every hospital in the region was full including theirs except for one in Fayetteville, AR. My stepmom and I rented a hotel room across the street from the hospital so that we could be with him. I would drop her off at the hospital at 6am every day and then go back to the hotel and work all day. Then, I would go get her, feed us, drop her off at the hotel and I would go spend the rest of the evening with my Dad. I would help him eat and watch TV. We would talk about nothing and everything. He started showing improvement and that hope I had previously had began to spring back to life.

A couple of days before he was transferred to a rehab facility in Tulsa, one of his friends, who I now refer to as Dumbass, came to see him at the hospital while I was at the hotel working. What he failed to tell anyone was that he was waiting on the results of a COVID test! He did not have a mask on, and no one enforced it with him. If I had been there, I would have thrown him out of the room if he refused to wear a mask. He called my stepmom that evening and told her it was positive! Some people can be so selfish and STUPID!!! The hospital made my stepmom and I go pay to get COVID tests before we could go back in his room. They quickly transferred him to a rehab center in Tulsa. I suspect it was to get my Dad out of their hospital before he tested positive for COVID. Regardless, I was happy he was closer to home and in a good facility. It was one that I fought hard to get him in. 

Once we got to the rehab my hope was getting stronger. He was sitting up in bed, talking, eating and barking out orders to me as usual. I would work from home every day while my stepmom stayed with him all day. Right after work I would go sit with him all evening. A few days after being there my Dad started having problems again. He was transported to St. John's hospital ER in Tulsa. My stepmom and I met him there. They would only let one person stay due to COVID precautions so my stepmom stayed. They left my father on a gurney in the hallway for over 24 hours. They did no tests or anything and threw back out the door to rehab. 

Rehab knew my Dad's condition was bad and they sent him by ambulance to Hillcrest in Tulsa. They immediately ran tests and determined the infection he had in one part of his body, that doctors thought was gone, had sadly reoccured in his neck. They had to do emergency surgery on him to clean out the infection.

I rushed to the hospital. It was after normal hours. The surgery waiting area was closed and dark. I honestly cannot explain how this happened other than God, the Holy Spirit and Angels guided me to that area. The security guards I saw along the way did not stop me. I got to the surgery waiting area. I was trying to think of what to do to find my Dad. I just needed to know if he made it through surgery. I saw a computer monitor flicker and ran over to look at it. Up popped a screen with a link to the surgery recovery room and a phone number. I called it and a nurse answered. I explained everything and she promised to call and update me. Just as I hung up, the elevators doors in front of me opened and out rolled my Dad on a gurney. They were in a rush and I ran behind them screaming, "That's my Dad! Please stop!!" They paused for a brief moment and said, "He has COVID you cannot get close." I told my Dad I loved him and I was not leaving till I knew he got out of surgery okay. 

The recovery room nurse eventually called me and told me the doctor would come talk to me after. When he came to talk to me, he explained he had to fight hospital administration to get approval to perform emergency surgery because my Dad had COVID. He did not know if he would ever walk again or use his hands. The infection had eaten away alot of important nerves.

My Dad was transferred to the sister facility of the rehab he was in due to him having COVID. We could only visit him through an outside window. I arranged with the hospital administrator to be able to go sit outside his window every day after work at 5:30. I did this for several days in cold weather with snow and ice some days, and other days in the rain with an umbrella. I would stay at least an hour. The nurse would turn his bed to window where he could see me and I would call him on his cell phone. We would talk about everything and nothing. I just.did not want him to think that he was forgotten and no one loved him.

Once he was free of COVID I got special exception arranged for me, my stepmom and my brother to be able to visit as long as we switched out. Sadly, my brother rarely showed up. It was just me and my stepmom. It hurt my Dad deeply that my brother hardly came to see him. I gave up on begging him to come. I got permission to bring his dog in to see him and that brightened his spirits. 

I had a little glimmer of hope again. Then, I got a call. He was transferred to ICU. His breathing was a little off and they wanted to watch him closer. My stepmom and I kept switching off being with him. He just was not bouncing back. I knew it was not looking good but I kept hoping for a miracle.

The night before he died I called and took off work the next day. Then I called my brother and told him he needed to come up, that I knew things did not look good. He said I was crazy and hung up. I had to call back several times begging and pleading with him. I finally told him, "If you are not here with him when he dies, you have no one to blame but yourself and your controlling wife!" I hung up and never called back. He showed up a couple of hours later. It is a damned shame that someone has to beg a person to do the right thing. 

My Dad died the next day, on February 11, 2022, with me on one side holding his hand, my stepmom on the other and my brother at his feet. I spent many evenings in the weeks before my Dad died, when I was allowed in, holding his hand and watching TV. That is all he wanted to do, just hold my hand. He lost his voice a week or so before he died. There were no words, just us gazing into eachother's eyes. When he died our eyes were locked in an eternal gaze. All I could think was what a beautiful shade of blue his eyes were and why I had not noticed before.

My siblings, as I choose to now call them, have always been a jealous, dysfunctional mess. My father's death and burial were no exception. At a time when they should have pulled together with me and my stepmom, they instead tore what little we had left of our relationships with them apart. I will not go into the gorey details here. If you read my blog, you already know. If not, all I can say is they are not my family anymore and deserve no place in my life. I do not hate them. I was deeply hurt by their wicked, evil games. Today, I choose to love myself more. I put them on the altar. God and karma can deal with them. I have moved on, and they are out of my life.

Despite all the bullshit and games attempted to be thrown at and played on my stepmom and I by my siblings, we were able to give my Dad the dignified and respectful memorial service he deserved. We were also able to bury him with full military honors. My little family was able to pull together and make me and my father proud.

I wrote all that out again today, not because I enjoy it, but because I want those who supposedly care about me to understand the emotional hell I have been through. The holidays make it worse. Grief is a roller coaster no one ever volunteers to ride. I have been told it is the price we pay to love so deeply. All I know is I miss my Dad every minute of every day and my heart aches so bad it is a physical pain. 

A little unmerited favor from my inner circle would be greatly appreciated to help me get through this. If you do not know what that means look it up. I know I am guilty of always saying I am fine even when I am not. Frankly, if you are in my inner circle I should not have to beg for unearned, unconditional love and attention. Those closest to me should already see I need it and give it. I do that for them everyday.

Sadly, I am the oldest and have always been expected to be strong. Most people in my world get indignant when I say I need something or I express weakness. NEWFLASH!! I am weak right now inside. I do not know when or if I will ever "get over" losing my Dad. I am sorry if I am not getting through this the right way or fast enough. I am doing the best I can right now!!!

I am not one for being fake. I am what I am when I am. Sometimes that is beautiful, other times funny and other times downright ugly. Grief has me by the throat most days right now. I keep comparing last year to this year and wishing I had more time with my Dad. I still grab my phone to text or call him. For a few seconds I forget he is gone. Once again the sadness engulfs me and I fight to grab God's hand to pull me to the top of the water again before I drown. Amazingly, He is always somehow there.

Dad, I know you are still around me in spirit. I just cannot see you right now because of the sorrow in my eyes. I really need a sign right now that I am okay, that everything is okay, that you are not gone just in another dimension. Please remind me that I am still here for a reason and that we will meet again some day. I love you forever Daddy!!

60 Years Old

60 Years Old

December 10, 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Not too bad for 60, right? Oh hell!! How did I get to 60?! This cannot be correct!!! I am just now getting the hang of how to do this thing called life. Well, on to another decade!

I hope the next 10 years are better than my 50s were. I know they were not all bad. I got married and still am. I credit that to God! My grandson was born, my daughter graduated from college, 2 of my granddaughters graduated from high school and one from college too. God brought my family through the lock down and pandemic. I survived brain surgey. Sadly, my father died. That broke me into a zillion little pieces inside because I miss him desperately. Yet, I saw and still see God's hand at work all around me. He opened the doors for me to buy a house even when it looked impossible. I love my home! Then let us not forget my momma. We moved her back to Tulsa after a major health battle and the tragic loss of my stepdad Vernon. It has not been easy but she is still going, we are all still going.

I do not "feel" 60. I have never been 60 so I have no idea how to feel. For the most part, I am healthy. I still tire easily from the after effects of brain surgery. It is getting better though. In my mind I am still that young, beautiful 23 year old girl who was newly sober and excited about the future. By God's grace I have over 36 years of continuous sobriety. I think inside I am emotionally my sobriety age. I spent alot of my life blurring through life instead of living and enjoying it. I do my best to slow down and find the joy in life today. Losing my father taught me that.

God willing and if this earthly vessel called my body holds out, I hope I live another 60 years! Regardless I know in my heart that my latter days will be greater than my former days. When I think of my age, I am reminded of a story I read years ago about a woman who was a famous photographer. She did not even start taking pictures till she was 70!! My grandmother Lillian always told me that age is just a number, it is all about one's mind set. She lived well into her 90s. So, I still have time to learn new things, accomplish new goals and enjoy watching my beautiful family grow.

There is so much more I want to do in this life. Places to go, art to experience, loved ones to spend time and play with. Today, I have a job I enjoy. I do not ever plan to retire. Well, the recession years ago made that thought impossible. When I should have been saving for retirement, I was unemployed for 4 years. There were no jobs to be found anywhere. I pretty much lost everything, even a marriage, but I am still standing by God's grace and mercy. So, who knows what the future holds?

What I do know is I am blessed beyond measure. I have a beautiful little family and a tiny circle (by my choice) of very precious friends. God has restored what I lost and given me so much more. So, 60s here I come!!!

Chocolate Pie

Chocolate Pie

Thanksgiving 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Thanksgiving is a time of being grateful and spending time with family. It is also a time of continuing traditions passed down from one generation to the next. One such tradition in our family was making pies. My grandmother Mary, my mom's mom, was an excellent cook and baker so naturally she was responsible for Thanksgiving dinner every year. She made the best pies around, especially chocolate meringue. My Dad loved chocolate pies and looked forward to hers.

My grandmother died a long time ago and with her our Thanksgiving dinners. After that, somewhere along the way, I am not exactly sure when, I was dubbed the pie maker of my little family. I promise you, my abilities in the kitchen are not that great. I have managed to master making two kinds of pies though, cherry cheese and chocolate. Honestly, it is not that hard to do. I buy premade graham cracker pie shells. I follow the recipe on one of pie crust labels for the cherry cheese and use instant pudding for the chocolate. 

Since being passed the pie making torch in my family, I have always made my Dad two chocolate pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas. In fact, he would remind me a couple of weeks in advance about "his pies" every year without fail. I always made sure he had them. There were times I was worn out from work and would grumble to myself about having to make them but I would do it regardless. After he was diagnosed with diabetes I started secretly using sugar free pudding mix. He never knew the difference.

I have been working alot and trying to focus on other things to keep my mind busy so I do not sink into the doldrums over the holidays this year. It is my first year without my Dad and it is hard. My heart aches for him all the time. I thought I was doing pretty good at focusing on the positive until this morning.

I was making pies for Thanksgiving dinner. I got the two cherry cheese pies done and got the sugar free chocolate pudding ready. When I went to fill the pie shells with chocolate pudding the tears started and grabbed me by my throat out of nowhere it seemed. I stopped what I was doing and sobbed. 

I cried for all the Thanksgiving dinners I did not do with my Dad when I was young and stupid. I always figured there was next year and next year never came. It took me till I was in my forties to understand how important my parents were and to spend time with them. You never know when their time will be up.

I also cried for the year I have been through. This time last year I never would have thought my Dad would be gone this year. I cried because I cannot remember last Thanksgiving. Everything blurred out on me when my Dad lost his battle and died this past February. I honestly do not remember whether I made him chocolate pie last year or not. I know it is not that big of a deal now, but grief makes my mind grab on the the craziest things sometimes.

Memories of past family dinners also flooded my mind. Pictures of people who have passed on flashed by like a slide projector, one after another. I realized that despite the fact that my parents and grandparents were not perfect, they did the best they could with what they had, just like I do with my kids and grandkids. I come from strong, determined and hardworking people. I know they loved me and those who are not here still do because love never dies. I wiped my tears and finished making my pies. 

I allowed myself a treat tonight. I ate some chocolate pie. As I finished my last bite, the thought crossed my mind that I would make my Dad a thousand chocolate pies every day for the rest of my life if I could have him back.

Tonight I am grateful for my little family. We are not perfect but we love eachother. In the end all that is left is love. It is the only thing we can take with us to other side. Love never dies.

I hope you enjoyed the best chocolate pie in Heaven today Daddy....I love you!! ❤️

Gratitude Day 20

Gratitude Day 20

My Little Christmas Tree and Family

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

11/20/22

Hell froze over today...I put up a little Christmas tree this year! Last year was a nightmare with my Dad sick, by Christmas it was not looking good for him and I did not celebrate it or put up a tree at all. This Christmas I am trying to have something positive for myself and my little family. That is how my Dad would want it.

YES...it might be a little early to put it up. Snarky comments have already been made. I DO NOT CARE what the "normal" protocol is. It was all I could do to put it up because of the never ending ache in my heart. Too early? Too bad, do not bother looking at it or commenting on it then.

Me? I am going to enjoy looking at it a little longer this year and remember the good times with my loved ones who have passed on, especially my Daddy. I am going to focus on my little family, especially a soon-to-be 4 year old boy who has me wrapped around his little finger! Christmas is about love and love NEVER dies.

I sure am grateful for the fact that God has carried my little family through a very hard and sad year. Yes, we have loved, lost, laughed and cried. Yet, the bond of us who are still here in this crazy world is stronger than ever. I love my little family more than ever now and try to show it the best I can every day. You never know when today might be the last day you get to hold their hand. So, hold their hand a little longer, hug them harder and enjoy their presence while you still can.

More Thoughts on Grief

I wrote this for someone I love very deeply. I thought maybe it would help someone else too.

More Thoughts on Grief

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

11/19/22

💕🙏💕 How does one grieve properly? Is there a manual that gives detailed instructions? If so, I need it. I personally think grieving is a journey that each person does alone and it is a different for path for everyone. Sometimes on the path, God sends angels to help and comfort us. Eventually we get through it, but we never get over the loss of someone we loved deeply. I think we just learn to live with the hole in our heart and eventually we realize that the love we shared never dies. Then the hole is filled with that love. The hurt is still there but not as massive. And yes, we keep going. 💕🙏💕

Gratitude Day 19

Gratitude Day 19

Today I am grateful that I dance to my own tune and I am not swayed but others opinions. The other day I got my hair cut really short the way I like it. I started doubting myself because of someone's commen, but I went ahead and cut it anyway. I was out running errands today and 3 different times people stopped me to tell me they loved my hair! 😊

Gratitude Day 18

Gratitude Day 18

Ok...I have no clue how many days behind I am on my gratitude days for November. I have been working way too many hours and when I'm not working I'm creating something that feels as though I'm sitting at God's feet while I'm doing it with my Dad whispering suggestions in my ear. If you want to call me crazy I don't care. All I know is once in awhile I feel like I accidentally step into God's glory even when I'm not looking for it. That's is why creating something has always been so much a part of me. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

Also, today is my mom's birthday. She is a strong and beautiful woman who has taught me so much about love and faith. She has been through literal hell in the last 2 years. She has not always walked through it gracefully, yet she has kept going and trusting in God. I am so grateful she is my mother. I love her very much!! Happy Birthday Momma!! ❤️❤️❤️

Gratitude Day 13

Gratitude Day 13

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

I rarely get excited, but I am tonight! I took a break from my working on my dad's blanket of valor to work on my grandson's quilt. He will be 4 on December 12th. I was worried I would not get my Dad's done in time to get my little guy's done too. A couple of weeks ago I was thinking about it and I swear I heard my Dad say out loud, "Andi, you stop working on mine and get my great grandson's quilt done! I want him to have it for his birthday." I have been working on it since. I have been cutting squares like crazy. Still had not figured out how exactly to put it together, much less actually quilt a square. So, today I said a prayer and started searching more on YouTube. I stumbled on a video that totally made sense. It took me all afternoon to get my first square quilted but now I am on a roll. I cannot wait to see the final product! My stepmom Linda told me today that the quilt was talking to me and to listen to it. It would tell me what it needs. You know? I think she is right! Today, I am so grateful God has given me a creative and imaginative mind. This might not Iook like much but to me it means the world!

Gratitude Day 12

Gratitude Day 12

Today I am grateful for a beautiful young girl named Bella who I am blessed to have as one of my granddaughters. She sent me something she wrote tonight and it filled my eyes tears and my heart with joy! God always blindsides me with unexpected, holy moments and this was one. Once again, I am reminded of how truly blessed I am. I love you Bella!!!

Paying Respects to My Daddy on Veterans Day

Paying Respects to My Daddy on Veterans Day

November 11, 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Made it to Ft. Gibson just before they closed the gates! Laid flowers for my Daddy! I miss and love you so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Gratitude Day 11

Gratitude Day 11

I am writing Day 11 early because I know I'll fall asleep before I midnight. I am grateful for all the men and women who have sacrificed part of their lives to serve and protect us. There are a few still alive whom I very close to my heart...you know who you are. ❤️ Most of all, I am grateful for my father who served in the US Navy. I miss him so deeply! I always celebrated Veterans Day with him, usually by bringing a bucket of KFC to him. It was his favorite thing to eat. I love you Daddy! Happy Veterans Day!!

Gratitude Day 10

Gratitude Day 10

I am grateful for the ability to think and reason things out. I has given me the ability to learn fast and find ways to survive when the chips are down in life. I give the credit to the Lord though for continuing to carry me even when I am afraid. God is good!!

Gratitude Day 9

Gratitude Day 9

Cuteness overload!!! I'm so grateful for this little boy!!! He has my heart forever!!!

Gratitude Day 8

Gratitude Day 8

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Gratitude Day 8

Today I am grateful for my momma Alice Tarrant! She has been through hell and back and still puts her faith in the Lord. She is strong and pushes through the hardest things with grace. God truly blessed me with my mom! 💙💙💙

Gratitude Day 7

Gratitude Day 7

I fell asleep last night in mid post and it never got posted! I need to quit writing when I'm half asleep!! 🤪

Anyway, Gratitude Day 7 was that I am very grateful for the job I have today. I work with an excellent team and my boss is awesome! I feel like I finally found a place that I fit in. It's been a long time coming and worth the wait. God is good!!

Gratitude Day 5 and 6

Gratitude Day 5 and 6

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

The last 2 days have been full of distractions. Some were ones I did not create and others ones I did. I had to go to Oklahoma City to see my mother-in-law yesterday and that was hard. She is in her late 80s and I never know when it will be the last time I see her. She is a beautiful woman inside and out. 

One of my granddaughters has been sick with the flu and other stuff and it has kicked her butt hard. She lives 4 hours away and it is heartbreaking to me that I cannot run and take care of her. That in itself has been a huge mental distraction. I have been praying like crazy for her.

Today, I decided to stop everything and do what my heart needed. I set my Father's blanket of valor aside for a bit to work on my grandson's birthday present. He will be 4 on December 12th, 2 days after my 60th birthday. Yes, I will be 60...that is a story for another day. Anyway, I am making my grandson a quilt of the solar system because he loves the universe and planets and knows way more about them than I ever will. That was my intentional distraction because it made me happy and I desperately need happiness right now. Besides, I could hear my Father's voice telling me to get that done first for his beautiful great-grandson. So, that is what I did. 

I had just finished the part of the quilt that I had set out to do when my daughter sent me a song to listen to. It is called Red Bird by Huntergirl. I had never it before and it made the damn of tears that I have been holding back break loose. I have not forgotten about Gratitude Day 5 at all. Actually, it has been heavy on my mind. I have tried to find the words to describe how I feel. I decided that what I have to write is worthy of 2 days, Gratitude Day 5 and 6. If you have stuck with me this far please indulge me for a little longer.

On November 5, 2021 my Father was hospitalized for an infection. Little did I know at that time, that 3 months later on February 11, 2022 I would hold his hand and gaze into his beautiful blue eyes until he took his last breath and his heart stopped beating.

He was the greatest man I have ever known; the one I Ioved to hate and hated to love. We had a rocky start in my childhood, but he became my everything as an adult. He was my best friend and my safe place to land when the world got too crazy. Most of all he was my hero. When he died it broke me in places I never knew existed within me. I do not know if those parts will ever heal. Maybe they are not supposed to. 

All I know is, I was blessed with a beautiful relationship with my Father that never should have been. If you knew where we started from, me 23 years old and newly sober and him in his 40s. When I was a teenager we were eachother's battering rams. I wrote him off and blamed everything on him. Some years later, he called one evening out of the blue. He told me he could not change the past, that till his dying day he would regret the things he did. Yet, if I would just give him a chance he would try every day until he took his last breath to convince me that he loved me. And that he did. I knew and still know that my Father loved me deeply and I loved him. I also know that the love we shared never dies and that is what I hold on to.

The last 3 months I had with my Father were hard. Yet, there were funny, beautiful, sacred, holy moments that are etched on my heart and mind forever. I would work all day and go see him in the evening wherever he was. I never missed a day. He could not walk and before he lost voice he would call me and bark out orders to buy something he needed or some phone call I needed to make. I tried to do anything I could to make him happy.

I remember one time I was determined to get him in the bathroom and on a shower chair so me and my stepmom could bathe him. It had been a week or so since he had been able to have a good shower. I just knew if we could do that it would make him feel better. We twisted and contorted him and his wheelchair around. In the end, his bathroom was too small and we all ended up in a huge laughing fit over it. Laughter in midst of deep sorrow...go figure.

At one point he had emergency surgery to clean out the infection and at the same time came down with COVID. His surgery was late in the evening. I managed to get the guard to let me in the surgery waiting area even though it was closed. There I was, sitting in the dark praying. I looked over and the receptionist's computer screen was still on. Something told me to go look at it. I found a number on the computer to the recovery room, called it and spoke to a nurse. She said she would tell the doctor I was out there. Just as I hung up, the elevator doors opened right in front of me and there was my Father being wheeled by me on a stretcher. I got to yell, "I'm here Daddy! I love you!" He waved back. The surgeon came and found me after he was done. They sent him back to rehab. I continued to go every day after work, sometimes in the snow and sit outside his window to talk to him on his cell phone. I did not want him to think we gave up on him.

He made it through COVID, but the infection had went into spine before they caught it and he could not use his hands very good. So, I would go feed him dinner every night. I remember, he loved Oreo cookies and asked me to bring him some. I never knew that would be the last thing we would eat together. Every night after we ate, he would tell me he just wanted to watch TV and hold my hand. So that is what we did. When he started losing his voice we still held hands. I prayed with him before I left every night. 

One of the last things I remember him saying to me was in answer to my question of him, "Dad? Do you have your ticket to Heaven?" He answered, "Hell yes I do, many times over!! I love the Lord and He's my Savior!!" That gave me great comfort because I knew we would be together again someday. 

There were so many things my Father said with his eyes that never needed words. I never realized how beautiful his eyes were until that was the only way he had to communicate. The last few weeks he would not eat. All we did was hold hands and watch TV. I would give anything to sit and hold hands with my Daddy and watch TV again.

I heard Wynona Judd the other day speaking about losing her mom. She said something like she felt sorrow and joy at the same time. That is how I feel all the time. The depths of sorrow that I feel being here without my Father is like nothing I have ever felt. Yet, I know he is in Heaven in the presence of God. He free of his old, frail body and no longer in pain. That fills my heart with incredible joy.

Having said all that, for Gratitude Day 5 and 6, I am extremely grateful for the man God chose to give as my Father. I am also grateful and humbled that God chose me to spend the last 3 months of my Father's life with him so I could help lead him home. 

I love you my sweet Daddy! This is not goodbye, it is see you later. ❤️❤️❤️

My Home

Gratitude Day 4

11/4/22

My Home

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

One year ago today was one of the happiest days in my life. I feel the need to give you the back story so you understand why.

In December 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, I had brain surgery. The whole process was scary but God got me through it. A few months later my mother went through major surgery and my stepdad died of COVID while she was in the hospital. Our family was in crisis to say the least. I helped move my mom back from Florida on Labor Day 2021 and she was living with us.

I had lost my home many years ago and became a renter or as I call it a nomad. I had to move anytime the lease was not renewed. So, I felt like I had no anchor. Last year I was living in another rent house and assumed my landlord would renew our lease for another year. He refused and said he preferred month to month. I had always paid my rent on time and often early so I was not happy about it. In the next few months, every month my landlord increased my rent. I am not stupid, I knew he was forcing me out so he could double or triple the rent for another tenant.

I looked and looked and could not find another place to rent. I was scared to death because I figured I did not have good enough credit to buy my own home. I said a prayer. Something in my heart, I know it was God, told me to contact a specific mortgage company and tell them I wanted to get completely approved for a home loan before I started looking and putting in an offer. It took alot of major legwork and documentation on my part but to my amazement I got approved to purchase my own home!!

I called my dear friend and realtor Melissa and we began to search. The real estate market was insane last year. I made numerous offers on homes that were either rejected or beat out by a better offer. One day, I was surfing the internet and stumbled on this one house. It looked nice in the pictures but I did not schedule to look at it. I kept looking at other ones but that one kept coming to my mind. So, finally Melissa, my mom and I went and looked at it.

Now, I will tell you, never in a million years would I have picked the neighborhood I live in now. I am not sure why, I just would not have picked it. Yet, the moment I walked in the house it felt like I was being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold winter day after playing for hours in the snow. We made an offer and to my amazement it was accepted.

November 4, 2021 was closing day. I remember going over to this empty house alone after I got the keys. I walked through the house and cried tears of gratitude. I went and sat on the front steps and looked at the school across the street. It hit me like a lighting bolt, the happiest time in my childhood was when we lived a few blocks up the street and I attended this very school. I saw my "little Andi" as I call her, walking home from school right by my home today.

I was and still am blown away by the tender love, mercy and grace that God continues to show me. Especially when I know I do not deserve it. See, God knew the deepest desire of my heart...that I have a home. I had lost the home my children and oldest grandchildren grew up in years ago. I felt like I had no anchor, no safe place to land in this chaotic world. Today, I have a home.

When God blesses us He does not skimp on anything! I am an artist. When I first looked at what is now home to me, one bedroom was being used as an artroom. I had not even considered having that. Yet, today I spend much of my free time creating things in that same room. Currently I am into quilting.

Little did I know last year on this day that my Father would be gone. He never got to see my home in person, but told me how proud he was of me. That is worth more than anything. God always makes a way if I will just shut up and listen. I am sure grateful I listened to him last year!

Today, I sit on a swing that my Father gave me several years ago, that just happened to fit perfectly on my front porch. Coincidence? I think not. I spend quite a bit of time on this swing remembering happy parts of my childhood. It often feels like my Father is sitting on the swing next to me too.

Today, tears of gratitude fill my eyes because I finally found my home.

Heaven Sent Me This Cat

Heaven Sent Me This Cat

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

10/30/22

The longest term relationship I have had in my life other my parents and kids is this old cat. His name is Sebastian. I think he is 15 this year. My granddaughter Destiny batted her beautiful brown eyes at me all those years ago and begged me to adopt him. I did not want another cat after my last one died, but she talked me into getting him. We picked him because he pressed his little face against the window as if to say, "Pick me! Please get me out of here!!!"

The first few years Sebastian and I were archenemies in a lot of ways. He liked to scratch up important things of mine in revenge for who knows what. Then, I found myself heartbroken and alone and he loved me through it. I did not realize how close we were until I had brain surgery in December 2020. When I got home from the hospital I was indescribably weak and exhausted. The exhaustion was a nasty side effect of having my brain put back in my skull where it belonged. It still lingers at times today.

The minute I walked through the door at home and collapsed into my recliner Sebastian jumped up in my lap. He stayed by my side 24/7 for the 6 months it took me to get back to some kind of normalcy. I truly believe he loved back to health quicker than any other medicine I was on.

There are times still today that he will demand for me to sit down and let him on my lap. I am then required to scratch his head for however long he sees fit. I tend to push myself too hard and I think he knows it. He forces me to stop, take a break and relax. I know Heaven sent this beautiful creature to me all those years ago because God knew I would him way more than he ever needed me!

I love you my beautiful Sebastian!! ❤️

The Dead Man Float

I wrote this for a friend tonight about grief...

The Dead Man Float

10/29/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

This sounds horrible but this is how think. I have never managed to surf the waves very good. I kept getting body slammed! So, years ago when my granddaughter died and I was having a horrible time, I kept trying to invision riding the waves and having no luck. My mind went back to 8th grade when I learned survival swimming. We had to master this float called the dead man float. It would supposedly keep you alive and conserve energy if you were stranded far away from land in deep water or waves. We had a contest and I won because I could do the dead man float better than anyone in 8th grade. So here I was in the stormy seas of grief over my granddaughter dying and I saw myself calm down and do the dead man float. Somehow it made me relax. The tears still fell, the heartache was still there but if I stopped fighting it and just floated I could get through it. The dead man float has my ass many a day, especially this past year.

My Dad's Ashes

I wrote this to my granddaughter Destiny because she's missing her Grandpa, my Dad really bad...so am I.

My Dad's Ashes 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Written October 22, 2022

I am going to tell you something that you might think is really weird. Somehow I find comfort in it though. When I got the idea to do the necklaces to memorialize your grandpa, I never thought in a million years that I would be the one to touch his ashes and make them for everyone. Yet, something in my heart pulled me to do it. I had never seen human ashes before so I had no idea what they looked like. When I opened his urn I was amazed because they looked so similar to the sand on a beach, especially the sand in Florida. 

The sand by the ocean is not pure and fine. It has small chunks of the world or maybe even the universe in it. My Dad's ashes looked like that. I kept thinking of the verse in the Bible that says "ashes to ashes, dust to dust". We all come from God and starlight and dust and that is where we return. I was thinking how huge my Dad was in everyone's life, especially mine. Yet, his body was reduced to ashes that were sacred and precious to me. I truly believe he wanted us to take a small piece of him with each of us because it symbolizes the tremendous love we had for him and he had for us. That love never dies. 

Destiny, if you, Bella, Courtney, your mom, Sedrick, Kaylee, Michael, Victoria, Chris, Linda, my Mom, Andre and even Zane and Jimmy could magnify the love you still feel for your grandpa times 1000, I still love you more than that and your grandpa loves you even more. All we have left at the end of our lives is the love we share. 

So, I have learned through my Father dying perhaps the most important lesson of all...

Do not take those you love for granted. One day they are here and the next they are gone. Things are not that important. The love we share is. 

So, my beautiful granddaughter, hold on tight to love you share with your grandpa and all of us. Love never dies.

God's Protection and My Car

God's Protection and My Car

10/19/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I had something happen that reminds me of God's protection on our lives. Even when we do not realize it He is always working, often in the background, to keep us from harm. Last week, I spent a few days negotiating online with a local dealership to possibly trade in my car for a new one. My car was a mess inside and I knew I needed to clean it out. I had been putting it off for a long time, almost a year. I was busy taking care of my mom and dad. Then my dad died. The last thing on my mind was cleaning my car.

One evening last week I pushed myself to get my car all nice and clean inside. It almost looks brand new now. I also went through all the papers and electronic stuff I keep in my car. I got rid of most of it and what was left fit nicely in my glove box. There was nothing in the center console under the tray. The whole time I was cleaning my car I was thinking why is this so important? My car is still fairly new so why am I even trying to trade it?

Short story long, the deal for the new car fell through. The dealership was playing too many games and I walked away from it. As I was leaving the dealership I figured all was not lost. At least it pushed me to clean out my car. So, I went on with life.

Last night we went to my stepmom's for a few to help her out. I am a stickler about always locking my car. I thought I locked it when we got home. This morning I went out to get groceries from the delivery guy and noticed as I walked by my car that the center console was open and all the change and small items that were in the tray were in the passenger seat. It was obvious someone pilfered through my car last night. I went through my car and nothing was missing!

As I was walking back in the house I almost heard God's voice out loud say, "See Andrea? That is why you had to clean your car out last week. I knew this would happen and I was working even then to protect you today." All I can say is, "WOW!" Here I am this pessimistic, Doubting Thomas inside. I get up every day and poke my finger in the Lord's side just to make sure He's still here. He lets me do it because He loves me unconditionally and understands that I am not this person of strong, amazing faith. I do pretty much everything afraid, as if I am jumping off a cliff and hoping God catches me. He always does in spite of my insecurities.

This may seem trivial and silly to some people but not to me! Today, once again, I am reminded of the awesome love and power of my Creator and Abba Father. He cares so much for me that He even plans in advance to protect me from things that could harm me in the future. I am forever awed, humbled and grateful for the love my Savior God has for me. Amazing grace how sweet the sound...❤️

Roses and Blue Jays

Roses and Blue Jays

October 16, 2021

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Grief is a roller coaster we never want to ride. Once we are on it, the ride is long and unpredictable. We just have to hang on and trust God to carry us through. The last few days the ride has taken me down a never ending hill going at what feels like a million miles an hour. I keep thinking it will get easier living without my Dad but on days like today it feels like the sadness will never end.

My dad was coming to me as a crow for awhile. Then, the other day I found a Blue Jay feather. It was weird because it happened randomly as I was walking in a store. It fell from the sky and fluttered to the ground right in front of me. Of course, I picked it up and saved it. I know it was a hello from Heaven, feathers always are.

Today I was getting out of the car at home and a Blue Jay flew past me and sat right in front of me on a rosebush in the middle of the last of the roses for the season. He looked at me for the longest time. I just stood there in the sacred silence and smiled. I finally said, "Hi Dad, I know it's you. I love you and miss you!" He cocked his head at me as if to say, "It's about time you notice me!" Then he flew away.

The Native American side of me is all over this. Call me crazy or overly sensitive, I do not care. I believe deeply in symbolism and nature. I know that God and those who have gone before us speak to us in symbols from nature. It is no coincidence that my father's birth month is June and his birth flower is the rose. I did not realize when I bought this house last year with rosebushes in the front yard how precious they would be to me now.

I did some Googling on roses and Blue Jays. Here is what I found. Since ancient time, roses have been seen as God at work in whatever situation they appear. Roses symbolize miracles and God's amazing love at work in the world. Many people have reported smelling roses when they encounter an angel. Blue Jays are seen as very powerful spirit animals. They symbolize that the universe is telling one that they are on the right path and to keep going. Blue Jays are also messengers from Heaven. They have the power to connect us with our ancestors and transfer the love and compassion we share between us. How cool is that?!

I have had a lot of things on my mind lately. There is one situation I have been praying for a miracle for me. I have been questioning if I am making the right decisions, am I on the right path? Sometimes the grief clouds my vision and I feel like I have to fight to see where I am going in my life. I have caught myself calling my Dad so many times just to hear his voice tell me everything is going to be okay and to keep going. I have felt like he is so far away. Yet, he has been right here with me all along. I just had to slow down and pay attention to the messages in the roses and Blue Jays in front me.

Thanks for getting my attention Daddy! I miss you now more that ever and love you even deeper! ❤️

Dancing with My Father Around the Fire

Dancing with My Father Around the Fire

9/16/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I have been sitting here listening to Native American music with drums and singers. I do it sometimes because I close my eyes and imagine my father and I dancing around the fire with our ancestors. When I do this it feels as if we are really together again. Now mind you, my father was never a dancer of any kind but its almost always he comes to me when I do this. It is kind of like meditation.

Anyway, I was totally into it today. Then, all of the sudden I saw myself dancing with my father and everyone dancing around us. I started laughing because there is the two of us making up our own dance. We were not following anyone. We were just having fun in our own little world, dancing to the beat of our own drums.

That pretty much sums up how both of us have lived our lives. I am so much like my father. He always lived and walked to the beat of his own drum. I do too, always have. Yet, today I realized I dance to the beat of my father's drum. I am covered in goose bumps writing this.

My father always finds a way back to me. Sometimes through crows, other times feathers or roses and now drums. What a sacred gift God, my Creator and Savior have given me! I feel very blessed right now.

I love you Daddy! I miss you more than I know how to say. Thanks for dancing with me today!! ❤️

My New Journey with Quilting

Well, it's official in my mind now and I've taken outward action on it. After my father died my granddaughter Destiny Zelsnack gave me the idea of making a quilt out of his t-shirts that she got him over the years. So, the idea has been rolling around in my head ever since. I'm a very creative person although most people probably don't think so. I have watched a plethora of YouTube videos on quilting. I learned to sew as a teenager, that's the easy part for me. I found a method I like and I got most of my supplies. It has occurred to me that I have suddenly become a scrap material addict. I have my design all drawn out on graph paper with seam allowances factored in. I am expecting this to be similar to stained glass. You have your pattern but then along the way you encounter hiccups and have to adjust to them. Sounds alot like life doesn't it?

For me, creating something is a spiritual journey, no matter what it is that I'm doing. I had it all planned out that I would paint. I haven't painted in a long time. Yet, every time I tried something stopped me. When I started letting the ideas flow for a quilt, I felt my creative passion come back. I had a huge stack of old t-shirts that were my dad's. I started going through them. The first one I pulled out was the one with the Native American shown in the picture. My dad was a proud Cherokee man. When I saw the shirt I smiled because I knew my dad is guiding me through this. 

On the front side of the shirt is the statement, "We should understand well that all things are the works of the Great Spirit." I will figure out a way to add this to my first quilt. I know everything that is happening in my life is meant to be. We are never truly apart, even after death. We just have to be still and watch for signs.

I love you Daddy!

P.S. I will post pics of my progress once in awhile for everyone. Assuming the first turns out good I already have several other ideas in mind. Oh my, I need a bigger artroom already! 🤣🤪😁

Heaven In His Eyes

Heaven In His Eyes

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

August 17, 2022

I am always taken by surprise when God gives me what I call sacred holy moments. They usually happen when I least expect it and from a place or person that I would never think possible. Tonight the bearer of this precious gift to me was my 3 year old grandson Michael.

Michael is an energetic little boy. He is full of excitement and awe at the world around him. He soaks in everything like a sponge. He is always trying to figure out how things work and he loves to learn. He is completely obsessed with solar system. He can name and identify every planet, moon, stars...you name it. He knows things I have never heard of! It's fun to watch the excitement that builds up in him when he tells you about it.

My son texted me the other day and we planned to have dinner together tonight. When they got to my house Michael decided he wanted to draw a picture of the sun and planets. So I got paper and pastel crayons out for him and he went to work. He was so excited. He would tell us all about each planet he drew. There was this joy all around him and it filled the room. It even inched its way into my downcast heart. I always say that my little grandson is the oil of joy for my sadness from losing my father a few months ago.

After Michael finished his masterpiece he reminded me that we always sit on the front porch and swing when he comes over. So, off we went to the front porch. We swang and named the colors of each car that drove by. It had been cloudy all day but while we were sitting there the blue sky started peaking through behind the clouds. Michael got all excited. He asked me, "GeGe, how do the clouds move out of the sky?" I replied, "Well I suppose God blows them out of the way." Then he said, "Well if God does not blow them out of the sky so I can see the moon tonight then I will just blow them out of the way myself. I like to look at the moon." We both laughed and kept swinging.

When it was time to go home Michael gave me the picture he drew of the solar system. We hung it on my refrigerator together. He stood there looking all proud of his accomplishment. I told him how much I loved the planets he drew. His eyes were sparkling like 2 beautiful stars as he gazed at his picture. Then he looked at me and said, "Gege, its beautiful because it's Heaven! See? Right there it is. All planets and the universe is Heaven!" At that moment I saw Heaven in his eyes.

I do believe my little grandson has seen and knows God much better than I do. He still has that child-like innocence and faith. I hope he never loses it. I hope I always see Heaven in his eyes like I did tonight. What a sacred holy moment I was blessed to experience with my beautiful grandson. It is one I will treasure all of my days.

As for the picture...I will always see Heaven in it now. I will forever be reminded of seeing Heaven in his eyes when I look at it. I will frame it this weekend and display it proudly.

Oh, Michael, my little grandson...I always say you hung the moon for me. Tonight you truly did!! I love you more my sweet boy!

Love,

GeGe ❤️

More Random Thoughts About Death from Yours Truly

More Random Thoughts About Death from Yours Truly

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

August 14, 2022

It was 6 months since my Dad went home to be with the Lord on August 11th. Some days it seems like 6 minutes and others it seems like 6 years. It is weird how time goes so slow and yet so fast all at the same time. God's timing always frustrates and amazes me at once. I can see His hand at work, yet I do not understand His ways most days. 

I spent up until my 30s, so the majority of my life, hating my Dad and fighting over stupid shit with him instead of taking an active interest in him and enjoying the good in him. When I realized that, I started reaching out to him everyday and I went to spend time with him as much as I could. Over time, my relationship with him healed. Every day until he could not do it anymore he would text and tell me I was his beautiful daughter, that he loved me and was proud of me. It only took a few seconds to do that but it made me feel like I was important to him. I still have those texts today.

When my Dad died I was right there with him. He held my hand and never let go. Our eyes were locked in a gaze with eachother until his last breath and last heartbeat. All I could think was why I never knew what a beautiful almost sky blue color my Daddy's eyes were. They were gorgeous. I do not know why I never took the time to just look in his eyes. How sad it was that it took me till he died to really look in his eyes.

So far, I have learned a few things from my Dad's death. Life is too short to build walls between you and the ones you supposedly love. Life is fleeting and soon lost and should not be wasted on one's who take no active interest in you and your relationship and vice versa. Most of all, it is important to take the time to really look in eachother's eyes because there will come a day that it is too late and you will not be able to.

I am sure I will learn more as time goes by. Someday the hurt will not be so bad. But right now, there are days it hurts to breathe because I miss him so deeply. I am doing the best I can and it is a Holy friggin' miracle I have not drank or drugged over it all. God's grace has kept me sober in spite of it. Oh what a precious gift God's grace is!!

I love you Daddy. I miss you. You are still alive in my heart and mind. Until we meet again...XOXO!!!

Andi ❤️

Roses and Crows

Roses and Crows

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

July 15, 2022

I have had this in my heart for awhile now. I have been trying to make sense of it. Yet, my thoughts are all jumbled and scrambled. I know myself well enough to understand that if I do not write, I will never unscramble or understand what my heart is trying to tell me. So, I am just going to write it. Maybe I will change it later and maybe I will not.

Since my Dad died I have done nothing but work from home all day during the week and take care of everyone else in my free time. Do not get me wrong. I am not complaining about helping at all. I just realize I have not given much time to myself. When I do, I end up in a pile of tears missing my Daddy so bad. I know, it is all a part of grieving but I still do not like it.

I talk to my Dad alot because I know he is around me, I just do not see him. Ever since he died I have been asking him to send me signs. I pay attention too. The Cherokee part of me is always watching.

I do not get out very often. When I do it is a quick trip in and out of a store. I just happen go to this one store that is in the same shopping center as my Dad's favorite tool store. Every time I go to this store, when I get out of the car this black bird is right there dancing. The first time it happened I thought it's dance looked like a Cherokee dancing. Then I started laughing and I thought maybe my Dad was trying to say hello to me. Like I said every time I go there this same black bird is there dancing. I did some research and I am pretty sure it's a crow.

I am forever researching the symbolism of things so I looked up the crow. The first site I landed on said this:

"Many people see crows as negative. However, that is not true. Crows appear to alert you to the presence of spiritual shifts taking place around you. They are there to remind you to pay close attention to the spiritual signs that are being conveyed to guide you in the right direction. They are symbols of change, phases, telepathic powers, and the ability to see into the realms of the unseen."

I do not know about anyone else but that blew my mind! I know there are transitions or changes on my horizon. I can feel them in my spirit even though I do not know what they are yet. I was introduced to the Holy Spirit when I was 10 years old and I have always known when some things are going to happen around me whether I told anyone or not. I identify with having the traits of an empath. I am not a holy roller or spiritual guru at all. I just know there is a Father, Son and Holy Ghost and that is my Higher Power. It is not about religion for me at all.

So, I believe the crow is my Dad trying to tell me that no matter what happens, good or bad, he is going to be there. I need to just keep moving forward and keep dancing with him. Also, the dancing reminds me that when I enter His courts and praise Him; my Dad, grandchildren, grandparents, ancestors and angels are there with me.

That may all sound crazy some people but not to me. I had a vision years ago of dancing at God's throne with my granddaughter Zoey. I also died one time and came back. I was there at His throne and it was the most awesome experience. The mercy and grace that I felt; the feeling of all the weight of this world being off me...it was absolutely beautifully amazing. Then, God told me to go back and I wanted to stay so bad, because there I was finally home. Yet, I knew I had to go back to raise my children, there was still other things to learn and others to help. The first few months back I felt so heavy. I still do sometimes today. Anyway, I got off track. I guess there was a reason for it.

God blessed us with our own home last November, the day before my Dad got sick and the 3 month nightmare began that culminated in his death. He never got to see my home. It has bothered me alot. I had prayed for my own home, some place that felt peaceful and one that I could fix up. I wanted it to be a place of ease and comfort to anyone who entered. It did not have be huge, just good bones. I looked every evening for 3 months for this house. God blessed me with a patient realtor. When I walked in the first time, I just knew in my heart of hearts that this was home.

Since we have been here I have slowly realized some things about this place. Everyone who walks in the house for the first time says the same thing, "This place just feels like home." I did not realize it at the time we bought it but it is right across the street from an elementary school that I went to. We lived up the street. It was the happiest time of my childhood, before puberty hit and the fighting with my Dad started. When I grew up we worked out our issues but I know I was hell as a teenager.

Our home is on a corner with a half acre lot. The front porch faces the school. We always plant flowers. The previous owner had a flower bed in the front and what looked like ugly wheat grass with rose bushes planted in between. We got rid of the ugly wheat grass and left the rose bushes. We planted flowers in April, earlier than usual. I did not pay much attention to the rose bushes.

Around Father's Day in June, suddenly the roses started blooming. They were absolutely beautiful. There were so many they weighed the bushes down. They bloomed like crazy all of June. My Dad's birthday was June 27th. They started wilting after his birthday. I figured they would not bloom anymore this year.

I was curious about roses and started researching them. The first thing I stumbled on is that roses are the birth flower for June. I thought that was pretty cool since it is my Dad's birth month. It was his way of saying, "Hello! I'm still here!!"

I also found this explanation that rings true in my heart:

"Since ancient times, roses have symbolized God at work in whatever situation they appear. The intricate and elegant rose offers a glimpse of a masterful creator's active presence in creation. As this fragrant flower blooms, its buds gradually open to reveal blossoms with lovely layers—an illustration of how spiritual wisdom unfolds in people's lives. The strong, sweet scent of a rose brings to mind the powerful sweetness of love, which is the essence of God. So it's not surprising that many miracles and encounters with angels throughout history have involved roses."

After reading that I thought well that is nice but there will not be anymore roses this year. Boy, was I wrong! I walked outside the other day and the roses are blooming again! Just a couple of days before I was asking my Dad for another sign. He sure gave it to me!!

If I had been asked to tell you what signs my Dad would use to tell me that he is still around me I would have never said roses and crows. Roses are beautiful but they have thorns. Crows often get a bad wrap. To many people they are a nuisance much like pigeons. So, if I were to look at these 2 things with my earthly eyes I would miss out on the messages God and my Dad are trying to send me.

When I look through my spiritual eyes, I can see that God is trying to tell me that no matter how "thorny" life gets and no matter how negative people treat me like they do crows...He is still there even when it does not feel like it. 

I believe my Dad is trying to tell me, just like the crows, keep dancing even when my heart aches. He also wants me to stop and pay attention to the beauty around me like the roses. Sometimes I need to be still to see the angels in my midst. This is all a reminder to me that even though I cannot see my Dad, he is ever present around me just like God is.

So, at least for today I am going to stop and smell the roses and keep dancing with the crows.

I love you Daddy ❤️

HOPE

HOPE

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

7/8/22

At one point in my life I went for 3 years with something wrong with my vision, balance off and clear liquid spewing out one nostril any time I got up and moved around. Specialist after specialist ran test after test. At one point I was in the hospital for 9 days! This was via Indian Health Care and being farmed out to different doctors. Finally, my PCP sent me to an ENT in Tahlequah. Strangely, they had opening the next day and I went. I found out that day that I was the last IHS patient they were ever accepting again. The ENT looked at me and read the mountain of medical records. He said he knew what it was but there was only one doctor in Tulsa that could treat it. He referred me there. Again, they just happened to have an opening within a couple of days. More tests determined that I had a cerebral spinal fluid leak. Fluid from my brain was leaking out my nose. I had surgery and when they were in there they found that my brain was sagging out of my skull. So, a simple 2 hour patch job for the leak turned in to a 9 hour major brain surgery to put my brain back where it belonged. Not what anyone was expecting!

If you have read this far, PLEASE KEEP READING! I started a new job working from home in July 2019. Benefits went into effect immediately and they gave me 2 weeks PTO up front. This was about the time I started getting referrals to the ENT, then doctors in Tulsa and more tests ran. At the time I did not realize that my new employer gave me short term disability and then I had forgotten that I signed up for extra too. This is something I never did before. Also, my employer gave all employees Christmas thru New Years off with pay, not counting PTO. It just so happened that the date for my surgery was December 28th. Right in the middle of my time off for the holidays. When I came out of surgery and could think straight I called my boss. She reminded me that I had short term disability I could use. I called HR, there was a waiting period before payments started which just so happened to be the same amount of paid holiday time and the 2 weeks PTO I had. So, I never missed a payday. I was off work for 6 months. DOES ANYONE SEE THE HAND OF GOD AT WORK YET?!

I wrote all that to tell you this...even when it feels like God is not working, HE IS WORKING! That is what I learned from what felt like a 3 year nightmare that ended in brain surgery. When I step back, I can see God was working it all out all along. As a result of all that, I have hope today. I heard a guy say the other day that hope means to expectedly wait on God to move.That is the kind of hope I have now. If God will do that for me, I know He's doing the same for you!

Going Home

Going Home

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

7/1/22

This is a post I wrote to a friend in response to her decision to put down her beloved dog.

I love my animals like I love people. Actually I love them more than most people. About 2 years ago I had to put my hearing dog Reggie down. In February I was there to tell my dad it was ok to stop living here and go home to God. Both were equally difficult and painful just in different ways. I can tell you this...it takes great love, very deep love of someone or an animal to help them transition to arms of God. Each time I've done it, it was the one thing I did not want to do the most; yet the very thing I would not have missed for anything in the world. You may think I'm crazy, hell I am crazy; but helping a being, human or animal, transition is to me the most holy, horribly beautiful experience I have ever had. It is at their last breath that I realize the incredible depth of love we shared. I hold on to that love until we meet again. That is the hope I have that helps me keep going day by day without them. I will keep you in my prayers. 🙏🏼😢❤️

Honoring My Father

Honoring My Father

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

6/29/22

We held my father's military burial on his 82nd birthday, June 27, 2022. It was small and private; just my stepmom, my son and his family, my husband and myself. We did not invite others in the family because of all the hatred and strife they have caused since his death in February.

One of the last things my father asked me to do in private, before he lost his voice, was to make sure his military burial was dignified and peaceful. He told me that he knew certain people would come to it and cause drama and he did not want that. So, my stepmother and I prayed about it and discussed it together. As sad as it was for us, we decided that small and intimate was the better choice. It was not an easy choice but I know in my heart, to the very core of my spirit that what we did was right in the eyes of my father and most importantly in the eyes of God. My father was honored. That is what he deserved.

We did a video of it and distributed it through my social media, texts and emails so that everyone knows where my father is buried. Even though the ceremony was beautiful in many ways and we saw the Lord's hand in all of it, it was as if the scab on my heart that was healing got ripped open again because I miss my father so much.

Since the ceremony, family members have called and said horrible, horrible things to me and about my stepmom, myself and my little family. They have sent vicious texts and messages to me. These same people were nowhere to be found when my father fought for his life for 3 months and died. It was only me and my stepmom there 24/7. We tried to get them to help. His son only showed up when I pleaded and begged with him to come and that was only a few times. Others who showed up once or twice through it all only showed up to beg  for money from my father or for a photo op. NO ONE in my extended family that lived here offered comfort or help to me or my stepmom during this nightmare we were living through.

Once my father died and the money tree died with him they were nowhere to be found. They spewed lie after lie. His own son threw away the things my father willed to him. It is on video. I cannot believe anyone would dishonor their father that way! He and all the others will have to answer to God some day for the way they acted.

When we were planning my father's memorial service in February we called and left messages with my father's twin sister, his brother and other family. They never answered. We BEGGED my father's son to help us with the memorial. He flat out refused saying if he could not control EVERYTHING including my father's money he wanted nothing to do with it. My father's other daughter told me he was dead to her 15 years ago and she wanted nothing to do with any of it.

So, my stepmom, my little family and I forged ahead ALONE. In spite of all this God brought angels to comfort us in the form of one of my father's doctor friends and his wife. I am forever grateful to them.

I am not writing all this to start more drama. I hope if you have read this far you hear the complete hurt and anguish I feel right now. I am not even angry. I am crushed in my heart and spirit. I know the lies that have circulated about me, my stepmom, my husband, my kids and grandkids.

I have stayed silent till now because I just wanted to give my father an honorable fairwell. I did that. Yet, I am very much my father's daughter and I hear him in my heart telling me to set the record straight. That is why I am writing this.

My father was my best friend, my hero, my confidant, my safe place to land in this world. I texted and spoke to him on the phone numerous times a day. We had dinner together at least once a week. We celebrated the good times and held eachother up through the hard times in life. I held his hand until he took his last breath and his heart stopped beating. My life is so dark without him. I know I will get through this but I will never get "over" it. How can I get over losing someone I loved so deeply?!

I would not change how I  did anything or the decisions we made after he died because I know I did the right thing and honored my father. He always told me, "Andrea, you are my oldest child. With that comes responsibility. Some day you will have to make decisions that piss others off, even though it is the right thing to do. You stand strong and do the right thing no matter how they act." That is what I did for my father the other day and I have no regrets.

All I can say is the truth is out now. Make your own conclusions and if you do not want to be a part of my life, so be it. Move on. I probably will not notice you are gone anyways.

Please understand that my stepmom, husband, kids, grandkids and I did not want the hatred, strife and lies that have gone on. It has not come from us but it has been viscously directed at us. IT NEEDS TO STOP! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!

My father is dead and all the hatred in world will not bring him back.

Let him rest in peace and leave us alone to grieve.

In closing, a note to my father...

Dear Daddy,

I am so grateful God gave you to me. You taught me that when we block out all the noise around us and focus on eachother, all that is left is the love we share with eachother. And oh what a beautiful love it was and still is!! Love never dies. That is what I hold onto now. I know you are home with God. What a beautiful place it is!! We will meet again someday.

Love,

Your Little Andi ❤️