Motherhood...The Good, The Bad and the Ugly.

Motherhood…The most important job of all, what a gift in all it’s glory. I have done the gamut. Teenage single mother, happily married did it the right way, wedding first mother, stay at home mother, part time working mother, full time working mother and finally caretaker mother. I can honestly say each role is a gift and I still consider myself lucky.

Of all my years of experience I can say I fumbled through each role without a playbook and made many mistakes along the way. That is just part of motherhood, no matter what you do, you will always second guess yourself and beat yourself up for ways you think you could have done it better.

For instance; as a single mother I probably could have been more alert at 7:00 am vs laying in my bed with the covers over my head hoping and praying that if I didn’t move my toddler would lay back down and go back to sleep if she didn’t spot her 18 year old mother 4 feet from her crib desperately trying to cash in on her beauty sleep. Instead I would have scooped up that precious gift and soaked up all the morning kisses and happy smiles from that perfect ray of sunshine regardless of the time.

As a newlywed mother I would have been less envious of my friends that were graduating college and starting careers as I was knee deep in dirty diapers, spit up, laundry and sweat pants and appreciated that I had found my soul mate early and was truly living the dream even if that dream was disguised as a 900 square foot house full of dirty dishes, laundry, clutter and love.

As a stay at home mother I would have realized that having a kid wake up at 2:00 AM with a fever or washing ham chunks out of your toddlers hair after her sister vomited all over her while she was sleeping was actually  not as tragic as I thought because I had the privilege of staying home and not having to call a boss in the morning to let them know I couldn’t be there.

As a mom that worked part time I would have realized that it was a great opportunity to get away and that my children (contrary to what I believed) would not self-destruct without me.

As a working mother I would have not felt so guilty for all the class parties I missed that I didn’t for the older siblings. Or the lack of time I had to help with homework , instead I would realize I was actually teaching independence without even knowing it. Can we ever feel like we are getting it right?

And finally as a caretaker mother….wow where do I begin with the mistakes that I feel I have made on this role. Of all my roles this one is the scariest…. this is the one where you really just have to wing it. You can’t just modify your upbringing like with all the other roles.  The decisions you make can affect the health and well being of your child in ways that are unfair. Is it really necessary to make sure your daughter’s legs are shaved and eyebrows plucked and nails painted every week? 

Imagine how stupid I felt last September when she missed a dose of anti seizure medicine because I as her primary caretaker forgot to give it to her before I put her to bed. The next morning she had a seizure.  I don’t think the paramedics left our house that day saying, “Wow, her nails looked great.”

I guess what I’m saying is being a mother is tough, I mean really tough. But it is also wonderful and often times perfect. It's just not always easy to see how perfect it really is.

When your adult daughter calls you for advice it makes you beam with pride as if maybe they don’t feel like you spent their whole childhood making mistake after mistake and they actually look up to you a bit and value your opinion. When your high school aged son asks if you will sit next to him on the couch and snuggle? Maybe you actually did something right and raised a boy that respects women (like his father) and is never too big for hugs.

When your youngest child (who you feel you have failed the most due to current life circumstances,) has the screen on her phone set to a pic of the two of you instead of her friends, wow what a lucky mom to have such a sweet kid.

I may not have been handed a perfect life (who has?) and quite honestly often times I am consumed with grief at my current set of circumstances. I have been given a miracle and things are slowly improving whether I chose to see it or not.

I have said it before and I’ll keep saying it (until I make myself believe it) Life is truly about perception.  Keeping that glass half full and staying positive are the keys to my success.

It’s a gloomy day and I would love to spend it in bed with the covers over my head…. instead I am writing a blog post to talk myself into believing maybe I actually did an OK job raising these seven wonderful kids that God has entrusted in my care. Who am I to doubt His wisdom?

To all the moms  sitting at their kitchen table sipping their coffee wishing they wouldn't have screamed at their kids this morning for not packing their backpacks last night or for forgetting their field trip forms or for the moms stuck in traffic wishing they wouldn't have been so crabby before they left the house. Lighten up, for all you do wrong today you will get a thousand more things right!

Birthdays Are Overrated

Last Sunday October 5^th was Lauren’s 27^th birthday. Some birthdays are better than others. Life is often unfair and just plain hard.

Sunday morning we were in Indiana for my nieces wedding. We stayed in a hotel and Lauren slept well and started her morning in a good mood. It was a typical morning other than being in a hotel. Her behavior was pretty normal. We got dressed, checked out, stopped for gas and coffee and headed to my nephew’s house 20 minutes away to pick up the rest of the Murphy group. We were planning a big birthday breakfast for Lauren.

Within a few minutes of arriving at my nephew’s house, Lauren starting walking around in circles, similar to a dog chasing his tail. I walked over to her and noticed her gaze was not right. I asked, “Lauren, are you having a seizure?” Not sure why I asked her, clearly she couldn’t answer me? She stared motionless for about a minute before the convulsions started. The actual clonic part of the seizure lasted about 4 minutes. We called 911 and could hear the sirens just moments after the seizure stopped. Kuddos to our first responders for getting there so quickly.

This was Lauren’s third seizure, I have witnessed all three, Erin has been there for two and the rest of the kids as well as Dave and my nephew had to witness this last one. Watching a person seize is very unpleasant. It is a helpless feeling that is hard to describe. All you can do is hope and pray that the seizure ends quickly. From what I have been told by health professionals, seizures do not cause more damage unless they are the kind that last over 20 minutes. In some cases patients even show signs of improvement after a seizure.

The paramedics checked her out and determined that she seemed ok and they could transport her to the ER or we could just let her rest. The ER would most likely just tell me to follow up with her doctor. We decided against the hospital and let her rest a couple hours before we headed back home. Within 2 hours of our car ride, she was singing in the car. Clearly she was less unscathed than the rest of us.

I called her doctors office bright and early Monday morning, and again in the afternoon. I have had issues in the past with her doctor returning calls or emails. Welcome to the world of TBI’ S and brick walls. I have made my way through more than my fare share of brick walls along this journey.

Lauren had therapy at 1:00 on Monday and I decided to bring her even though I still hadn’t heard from her doctor. She seemed back to her old self and I didn’t think cancelling therapy would be necessary.  I am a bit of a multi tasker so I decided to run by West County Mall while she was at therapy and exchange a dress I had ordered online at Nordstrom for Sam’s wedding in a bigger size and a different color. With all the comfort food I ate Sunday and Monday I should have ordered it two sizes bigger.

As I walked in Nordstrom, in the words of Ms Oprah Winfrey, I had a bit of an Aha moment. Nordstrom for me in the past was always just a cut through store for me to get to my car. I always loved that store but the price point was a little out of reach. I have always been a Marshalls, or Target kind of girl. A few years ago, Lauren got me a pair of jeans from Nordstrom for Christmas. They were too small (why is everything always too small?) so I retuned them and got a different style and size. I remember shopping and thinking, “wow, I love this store. Not only do they have pretty things they actually come to the dressing room and alter them for you.” They don’t do that at Target. A whole new word opened up for me that day. I remember thinking how that as soon as I got my last kid through Catholic high school I was going to become a faithful Nordstrom shopper.

Yesterday as I was in Nordstrom I literally laughed out loud thinking how just a few years ago Nordstrom was one of the biggest goals I had on my life plan. Could I be any more shallow?  I looked at a few of the sale racks and thought to myself. “I have absolutely no desire to wear anything in this store.” All I really want is for my kids to be healthy. I would sell my soul to the devil and walk around Nordstrom naked if I could have my old life back.  5 minutes into my Nordstrom trip I realized I left my phone in the car and sprinted towards the parking lot. I was still waiting for the doctor to return my call and I didn’t like being unreachable in case Lauren had any issues.

I had no missed calls but decided it was best for me to get gas and head back towards therapy in case Lauren needed me.          

I never did receive a call back from her doctor on Monday. I finally talked to someone in his office Tuesday that relayed that he would set up a phone call meeting to discuss her seizure on Friday? What??? Friday….you have got to be kidding me, 5 days after her seizure?

Unfortunately I had to pull out my mama bear claws again and after three more phone calls and lots of tears on my end. The doctor agreed to call me 30 minutes later. Why do I have to cry to get the medical attention that my daughter deserves? There has to be an easier way. Is this doctor so busy that an 18-minute phone call (according to my call log) had to be scheduled 5 days after a 5-minute grand mal seizure?

Starting tonight, her anti seizure medicine is being increased and I hope and pray it doesn’t turn her into a zombie. It took her over 8 weeks to adjust when it was first prescribed back in July of 2013. I guess this is just another little bump in the road of life. We will make it through; we always do Murphys Don’t Quit!

Everything Happens For A Reason

Everything Happens For A Reason

That used to be my mantra, that is, until I experienced that awful phone call that chilly April day that changed my whole world. My whole life I have always felt that way. Even when bad things happened to me I was still able to see the good that came out of those life experiences. Everyone has bad things happen to him or her that is called LIFE. Sometimes it is due to the choices you make and other times it is due to the choices that others make. The older you get the wiser you become.

Every single person fights battles that we know nothing about. For instance a couple of weeks ago I was grocery shopping at Publix before I picked Lauren up at therapy. I turned down an aisle and the manager said, “Hi, how are you today?” I responded with, “I’m great how are you?”  I walked to the next aisle and had a tough time holding back the tears. What was I thinking? I'm not great. This man knew nothing about my struggles this past year and a half. All he knew was the cheery lady in aisle 4 who said she was doing great.  As I stood there with my tear stained cheeks it dawned on me, that I know nothing about his struggles. For all I know he has a spouse with cancer or a child? Or his life can be absolutely perfect? We do not always wear our emotions on our sleeve. The lesson here is just to be kind to everyone, as you really don’t know anyone’s struggles.

I am very grateful that Lauren is still improving and much of her old personality continues to shine through. Although I am grateful I am still incredibly sad. I would give anything if I could turn back time and she would be back in her old life living in the city that she loves, with her dream job and her dream boy. This is where I would normally insert, “Everything Happens For A Reason.” But to that I say BULLSHIT! What reason could there be for my beautiful headstrong daughter to have lost so much of her former self? What reason could there be for the rest of my kids to get a part time mother?

Since we have been in Florida I have had a lot of time on my hands to reflect on my life, too much time actually. I was lucky, I found my soul mate just shy of my 19th birthday. I could probably count on one hand how many times that I cried in my old life, not just the tear up at a movie cry but a gut-wrenching cry. Most girls cry over boys…Lucky for me I picked a true gentleman and through our 26-years together we have had few fights that caused such sadness. In a nutshell we have had a happy life. For someone who isn’t a big crier I have sure learned how to make up for lost time. I just don’t know how to not be sad anymore.

I hate it that I can’t just be happy, I grieve for my old life every second of every day. Logically I know that Lauren is doing well and I have so much to be thankful for.  She continues to push herself on the road to recovery. But how long is this damn road? It’s not that I mind taking care of her because I don’t, I realize that every day is a gift. It is just so incredibly hard for me to watch her struggle just to find a simple word. When I ask her what her name is and she responds Oct. 5^th (her birthday) my heart breaks for her just a little bit more. I am not the first mother who has dealt with their child getting an unfair shake in life and I certainly won’t be the last. The bottom line is that being a mom is the toughest job in the world. For whatever reasons this is my new destiny, I don’t have to like it but it is what it is.

Tomorrow I will wake up, put on my positive attitude and begin a new day.  Since Lauren’s accident I have always allowed myself just 20 minutes per day to feel sorry for myself. Normally that’s an easy rule to follow when I’m at home in St. Louis. The demanding soccer, school, cheerleading etc. schedules keep me on my toes enough that I normally don’t even have the time to sit and think. Sitting in a beach chair 4 hours a day while Lauren is at therapy and looking at the powerful ocean has given me more than my allowed 20 minutes to stare into the distance and wonder why this had to happen to my family. On the positive side, my tan is fabulous.

Florida has been a great experience and has been really good for Lauren. Her therapists are wonderful and have been great at pushing her to power through even when she is frustrated. She is writing and texting for the first time since her accident. The weather is great and it has been a positive experience all around…Except for the lizards….I hate the lizards! How do people live here with all these lizards?

First Few ICU Days

 Now that I have alone time for the first time in 20 years, I have time to write all the thoughts that clutter my warped little head. While I'm in Florida I decided to work on something other than just my tan.  Below you will find my thoughts from those first couple of ICU days. As much as I hate to remember,  it is important that I do, especially when I feel the road ahead is just too long for me to take another step, its good to look back and see how far we have come. Please excuse some of the language as I want to be true to how I actually felt.

That dreaded phone call on April 19^th 2013.  I WAS SUCKER PUNCHED. I was driving down highway 40 and listening to a promotional video newly posted on facebook on my phone about an upcoming Club Med Fan vacation for Rick Springfield. (I know I’m weird) My video was interrupted by a phone call that came across as  Private Number. I’m not sure what made me answer as I normally wouldn’t answer a call that was Private but on that day, I did answer. I often wish I had never answered the call. Logically I realize the phone call wasn’t the issue, it was the accident. To me it all started with the call. What if I wouldn’t have answered? My perfect world would still be in tact. But I did answer, and my perfect world fell apart.

I arrived in LA well past midnight. The flight was awful; I couldn’t get there fast enough. We flew into Chicago first. I remember standing at a phone charging station in Chicago surrounded by several people when I received yet another call that was a Private Number. This time it was my pastor, a close friend had called him and let him know about the accident. He asked what had happened and I explained as best as I could in between sobs. I had just found out before we boarded the plane in St. Louis that Lauren had a portion of her brain removed. My obvious question was “will she be able to live a normal life?” They could not give me an answer. At this point our main focus was to try and get her severely damaged brain to stop swelling. I am sure I was quite the sight to the other travelers sharing this phone charging station. I believe we said a couple of prayers together over the phone. It was not a very long conversation and he let me know that Lauren would be in his constant prayers.  We boarded the plane shortly after that and were able to get updates via email from  my oldest daughter Sam. She was in direct contact with Lauren’s nurse. By this time word had gotten out via social media. My facebook as well as email were beginning to blow up with messages. I read them all but could not bring myself to respond, I was still in shock.....or was it denial?

I knew how severe her injuries were after talking to the social worker at the hospital. I was fully aware that her chances of living were very slim. Even though I explained the severity of her injuries, I don’t think Dave really knew how grave her condition was. On the plane I was actually preparing for the worst. My mind was wandering and I was mentally preparing her funeral complete with whom I should ask to be her pallbearers. Who does that? I am still angry with myself for not staying positive. The family sitting behind us was going to Disney Land. The kid was so excited he couldn’t stop talking about it. Normally I would think that was really cute, that day I was less than amused and was ready to throw the kid out the emergency exit.

One we got our rental car we were headed to the hospital. We had about a 30-minute drive. I don’t know how Dave was even able to drive because I was struggling with the simple act of breathing. The charge nurse asked me to call her when we arrived so she could walk us up to the unit. She actually met us in the parking lot. I thought wow; this place really treats their patient’s families well. I was so stupid… the reality was because Lauren was so critical. I can’t remember the charge nurses name but I will never forget her face or her warmth. She had a crazy Afro, I don’t even know if you could call it an Afro, it had many different sections sticking up in every direction. What I remember most was her kindness. (Then I remember that crazy hair. )We had to sign in at the desk in the lobby of the “Saperstein Critical Care Tower”. I remember her telling the guard that we were the parents of foxtrot followed by a series of numbers. I guess Foxtrot is a better name than Jane Doe. “Is this really happening?”  My daughter is registered as a Jane Doe AKA Foxtrot? 

We passed several signs on the way  to the lobby that directed us, each time I read the words “Critical Care Tower” I felt a little piece of my heart dying. The charge nurse tried to make small talk the whole way to the tower, we were all eerily quiet and somber.

Once we arrived to the correct building, we got on the elevator to head up to the neuro unit. The elevator stopped on every floor. Something about Saturday being the Sabbath.(We were at a Jewish hospital) Seriously…every floor, I needed to get to my kid. I believe the neuro unit was on the 10^th or 11^th floor. I remember stopping at every floor and thinking, “Don’t they have a Catholic elevator?”

I will never forget the look of sorrow on the faces of the staff as we walked down that hall for the first time toward Laurens room. Once we arrived in her room there was no turning back. This could no longer be a bad dream or a sick joke. This was real life and my girl was in trouble. Lauren was pretty much unrecognizable. Tubes everywhere, a big plastic neck collar to make sure there were no spine fractures, bags of fluid going in, bags of fluids going out.

Her nurse Bridget immediately started explaining all the monitors and what the numbers meant, heart rate, breaths per minute, ICP (Inter Cranial Pressure) etc. I think she was just trying to fill the time as she was waiting for the resident on call to answer his page so he can deliver the rest of the bad news to us.

The doctor arrived shortly after we did and very somberly and matter of factly let us know how serious her injuries were. He stated that she had severe head trauma and “IF” she lived, we were looking at months and months of recovery, possibly even years. He ended his flowery little speech informing us that she was the sickest patient in the whole hospital. Well thanks for that asshole!

While the doctor was talking, Dave felt faint and had to sit in a chair. That was the exact moment that I saw my rock of a husband crumble. I was helpless; there was nothing I could do for either of them.

The first two days were filled with nothing but grief and despair. All I could do is pray and cry. I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep. I was so nauseous. Mainly because I hadn’t eaten or slept but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than cry. My private conversations with God were pretty dark and desperate in those days. I couldn’t help shaking the feeling that somehow I caused this? Why is it that as mothers we blame ourselves for all the bad things that happen to our kids but don’t take credit for the good things?

Lauren’s roommate Courtney arrived on that Sunday. Her first plane was grounded due to storms in NYC. She was the breath of fresh air that we needed. She walked in with her positive attitude and filled that dark room with light.

 Lauren’s brain swelling was still a big concern. I knew that if her pupils were “blown” that she was essentially brain dead. Due to her continued brain swelling, this was a possibility that we had to face. They checked her pupils on a regular basis with a little pen flashlight. Each and every time they checked her pupils it was if my heart was being squeezed by a boa constrictor covered in thorns. I was absolutely terrified; I wasn’t ready to let my baby girl die. The little flashlight pen they were using had a bad connection. They had to keep shaking it or tapping it on the palm of their hand to get it to work. I wanted to scream, “For Gods sake, get a different fucking flashlight.” Instead I just sat in the corner quietly, terrified of what they may find.

Confessions Of A Soccer Mom Groupie.

 I am shamelessly a die hard Rick Springfield groupie. The definition of groupie; 

noun: groupie

1. a person, especially a young woman, who regularly follows a pop music group or other celebrity in the hope of meeting or getting to know them.

OK so maybe I am not a textbook groupie , or am I? I'm not young.... so there!   It’s hard to explain…..or maybe I should just say instead that it’s hard to understand because I’m not even sure that I totally get it.

      Shaun Cassidy was the third and fourth grade “chosen one”  in the late 70's.  I never jumped on the Cassidy bandwagon…the forever late bloomer I guess. It all started for me when I was in 6^th grade, the year was 1981. Jessies girl started it all. Which is not my favorite Rick tune by the way as I would guess is the case in most of his faithful followers.  My personal favorite is "World Start Turning" More specifically my favorite lyric is "The times I succeeded and the times I failed, You know that no one will remember but me."   Simple but brilliant. Most people out of the Rick circle have never even heard that brilliant little song.

      I have watched my daughters (all 6 of them) go through the same hormone crazed obsession with “Hanson”, “NSync”, “Jonas Brothers”, “Bieber”, and last but not least “One Direction” as I did. It’s all part of growing up I guess. They have all outgrown it, but ironically I havent.

     When I was a kid my childhood room was covered in Teen Beat pics of Rick all over every inch of my wall. My sister left for college and bam I had my own room for the first time in my life.  I quickly turned it into a Rick Shrine. The poster on my door was of Rick in a denim button down shirt sitting with his knee bent. He had on some hideous white boots. I hated the boots but loved the poster.  At 13 I made a mental note that if I ever met Rick I would tell him how ugly those boots were. (I have met Rick several times now) I still haven’t mentioned the boots.

     In the 80’s I played Ricks albums on my cheap record player over and over. I was always a slob with my stuff but my albums were always put back in the sleeve and well taken care of.  I still have them all. Side note I sold all of my husbands old Beatles albums along with the rest of his record collection in a garage sale for $20. I’m not sure if he will ever forgive me.

      Through the awkward years of junior high, Rick was always my imaginary boyfriend, he was the best boyfriend I have ever had. I quickly learned that kissing a poster wasn’t all that great. (I never did kiss the poster on the door with the boots….Ewwww total turn off. I had standards.)

     In the height of my Rick crush years, Rick was in his 30’s. I’m sure he loved it that a bunch of prepubescent little girls were drooling over him singing his carefully chosen lyrics with absolutely no clue what any of them meant.  At least I didn’t….(”He held her tighter and tighter as he danced inside her.”) What……Whoa…I had no clue?  Rick you nasty freak.

     Fast forward to the internet craze. I guess it was around 1997 or 1998 and my sister in law was the first one I knew that had a pc that was connected to the internet. I remember going to her house and typing in the search engine (before google) Rick Springfield and whola…just like magic, 3 minutes later Rick Springfield stuff showed up. OMG I was hooked and knew that I needed to find away to get the internet. This would be so great to keep tabs on my old  “imaginary” boyfriend. My love and devotion never went away but it did lie dormant for years as life happened and I became a big girl.  A few months later we got our own computer and I didn’t stalk Rick news as often as I thought I would. I was busy raising babies. At this time I had 7 kids under age 14, I was changing diapers for 12 years. Definitely a crazy household. 

     In 1999 Rick played in St. Louis, I had just lost a bunch of weight and was able to wear my 13 year old daughters mini skirt to the concert. I had great 80’s scrunched hair and I just new that Rick would spot me in the audience and realize we were destined to be imaginary soul mates.

     Imagine my disappointment when I went home with no eye contact from my dream boat. Oh well at least he still looked and sounded good, I took a whole roll of film with my crappy point and shoot camera. He was like a tiny spec on the photos but I knew that blurry spec was my Rick so it was all good.

     He came to town a couple more times through those years but I wasn’t always able to make it. One time I was out of town for a family vacation, another time was back to school time and my kids all needed new back to school expensive “cool” tennis shoes. I couldn’t risk my kids being shunned at school by having cheap shoes so mommy can go visit her imaginary boyfriend. I figured the expensive shoes would save me the expensive head shrink they would need later because their mother is a groupie.

     Fast forward a few years and I finally had my chance to meet Rick at an intimate acoustic performance that I won on our local Radio station. The year was 2008 and I was a hot mess. I went tanning every day for two weeks, wore fake eyelashes and bought a new push up bra. I made posters with catchy phrases like “This soccer mom of 7 “Is Still Crazy For You” and I have waited 30 years for “Just One Kiss.” I couldn’t wait for Rick to see how clever I was using his song lyrics in my posters. What a weirdo I am, I’m sure Rick was really impressed lol.

     My husband went with me and has always been a trooper when it comes to Rick. Its’ hard to explain but my fascination and admiration is still that of an eleven year old girl. It is still just as innocent and perfect .I have no desire to anything with Rick except maybe go to lunch?  I have always secretly loved that he is married to a blonde girl who is 5‘1” just like me….I know, I know I have serious issues.  Rick did acknowledge my posters  that evening and I was happy that we had a little conversation about them. I was so excited to finally get to meet Rick and actually talk to him….OMG!! I had waited a lifetime for that moment. He was super sweet and I was so excited to see that he treated all of his fans with such respect. Little did I know that our next meeting would blow this one out of the water.

     At that time I had been at one of my heaviest weights and always hated to be photographed. My picture with Rick amazingly enough is still one of my all time favorite pictures of myself despite my weight. I think often times your inner beauty determines your outer beauty and beauty comes from happiness and confidence. I have determined that Rick must be my happy place because every pic I have of us together is a good one. 

Since that time I made a point to never miss another concert if Rick was anywhere close to St. Louis. Besides, back to school shoes are overrated. The kids can always use duct tape to get a little more wear out of their shoes. They should be passing them down to the younger ones anyway.  Sorry kids, no new shoes this year, mommy’s boyfriend is in town. Do you think I may have screwed up my kids a bit?? That sounds normal doesn’t it?

     The 8X10 of Rick and I in 2008 sits on my nigh stand right next to the 5X7 of my husband and I. It has become quite the conversation piece when we have company.

     Most people that know me know that my daughter was critically injured in April of 2013 while jogging in LA when a car struck her and she suffered severe head trauma. After the accident, a friend of my husbands remembered the “conversation piece” 8 X 10 on my nightstand. She somehow was able to get ahold of Rick’s people. I knew the night before he called that he would be calling the next afternoon. It was crazy for me to think that my daughter was in a coma fighting for her life and I was receiving a call from Rick less than two weeks after her accident.  Just knowing that he cared so much about a fan in crisis brought me great comfort. That was the first time I actually flat ironed my hair and put on a little mascara since arriving at the hospital in LA from St. Louis. Nothing Rick did was going to change the situation with my daughter but hearing Rick’s voice on the phone and listening to his kind words made a difference in my demeanor and brought hope to a near hopeless situation. He didn’t do it for publicity he just really cares about his fans. I decided right there and then that I would never mention those ugly boots, maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

     We are now 16 months post accident and my daughter is still recovering from a traumatic brain injury, 4 brain surgeries and 5 months in the hospital and months and months of outpatient rehab later she continues to kick butt and amaze us all.  http://vimeo.com/91575493.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/laurenmurphy

     I was able to see Rick in March of this year at a sound check and introduce myself as the fan from St. Louis with the injured daughter. I started to cry when I talked to him and he looked into my eyes when we talked and really listened, he also teared up when he spoke to me . It was a very emotional moment and I was so thankful that I was able to let him know how much it meant to me when he took time out of his busy day to call. This soccer mom groupie had her “moment” with her imaginary boyfriend and all was right with the world. Who gets to cry with their lifelong celebrity crush?…This girl, that’s who!

I was luck enough to see him again in July and I brought one of my other daughters to the concert and sound check. No tears this time. He was gracious as always and even agreed to take a selfie with my daughter when she asked, later he picked her in the crowd to sing Don’t Talk To Strangers during the concert. 

I didn’t mention to him who I was this time. There was no need. Who cares if he remembers me? He owes me nothing. I am forever grateful for him for giving me so much light in those dark days of April 2013….and for teaching me how to be an excellent poster kisser in the 80's.

    Rick turns 65 this week and I am thrilled that he is still performing and making himself so available for his fans. He recently landed a role in an upcoming Meryl Streep movie and begins filming this fall. I have told everyone I know, like it’s a family member who just did something awesome. Well to me he is family, part of my imaginary family. Its hard to believe the old guy is 65, hell it’s hard to believe I am almost 45. I have been a devoted Rick fan for 34 years….34 years that is crazy. What a true gift it is to be able to meet your childhood crush and to find out he is actually a good egg! Happy Birthday Rick, you make 65 look pretty good. Ill see you next time you are in the Lou. I will be the tan one with the long eyelashes and perky boobs.