Thru and Thru

"It's called a thru and thru,"
said Dr. Pollack,

 the hand surgeon as he examined my left hand.
"In one side and out the other!"

 He was like a kid looking at a new toy,

turning my left hand over and then over again
 moving it into different positions.

 "It could take a year or more for you to get all the feeling back in your finger."

"You are very lucky it didn't cut the nerve and muscles 

more 

than

 it 

did. 

The knife

 was turned at just the right angle

 that it went

 right

 between

 the 

bones 

in your hand."

Lucky

 I thought.

Sure didn't feel lucky with both my hands laying on the exam table of a hand surgeon.
Being a musician,

 an artist

 and
a
 massage therapist
 my hands
are
 me.
Truth be known,
 I was extremely lucky,
 or the real word is
"Blessed"
very
 very

 blessed.
I was sitting in the office of Dr. P.
He was smart.
He was awesome.
He was handsome.
We are the same age.
I was there to have him
"Fix"
my right hand.
Fix it he did.
I had fallen at a gig playing drums
(favorite toys)
In Soccoro, New Mexico.
I had on a pair of old sandals that should have met their demise long ago
and
 I didn't see a small elevation in the concrete.
We were just about to go on stage
 and
 I went down on both wrists.
Ouch.
 Oh man.
This hurts.
Soldier on.
 I shattered my scaphoid bone in my right wrist.
Of course I didn't know that immediately.
 It took mowing the yard to finally shatter it all the way.
Hello More Pain.
 My old friend.
Familiar Bone.
Something about bone pain.
I have had a lot of that in my life.
The deep stuff.
Anyway,
I couldn't do much of anything at all with my right hand anymore.
I couldn't brush my hair, my teeth, wash my floor, my truck.
I couldn't play music without pain.
I couldn't massage without pain.
I couldn't wash dishes without pain.
Pleasure in anything
was aloof.
Dr. P
 was 120 miles away in Lubbock
so it was always time,
 effort and money
 to make an appointment happen.
 Like I said,
 I am blessed
 and friend M
 drove me
in little Blue,
(her Honda)
 every single visit I had.
We ate at the same Subway
 on our way home
every time I was coherent enough to eat.
It was a surgery that you went in early
and went home the same day.
Rough.
I had pins and had to have another surgery to remove them.
It was a grueling 10 weeks of pain.
I would tell Dr. P,
"I can feel those pins in there! They are killing me!"

More bone pain.....
He would look at me with a puzzled look and say, 

"you shouldn't be able to really feel those.

Most people don't."
" They feel like sewing needles in there!" I said.
Well hell,
 I'll be right again,
he took the pins out and gave them to me,
and they are exactly like sewing needles.
OUCH!!!

     MOMMY!!!!!!
"How in the heck do you think I wouldn't feel those!"
"OH, my"
That's my RIGHT hand
Let's get back to my

 left

 hand.

 I am a foodie 

and love to cook.

I had a brace 

on my right hand.

My left was fine,

 just doing all the work.

I decided to make tacos

 and guacamole for supper.

I had some beautiful avocados.

I decided to put on

 plastic gloves

the kind you use to wash dishes.

They were too big

 and bright yellow.

This was a very stupid thing to do.

Even more stupid get them wet.

I had watched Martha Stewart make guacamole and she kinda stabbed the seed and just plucked it out.

Looked easy enough.

ya right.

I was holding the avocado half in my left hand and the knife in my right hand.

 I proceed to channel 

Martha

 and

 stab

 the 

seed.

Now, that is to say 

stabbed it with the point of the knife.

As you can probably guess by now

I didn't stab the seed.

The point of the knife slipped off the seed,

went thru the avocado

and thru my hand.

Oh Lord.

More pain.

Lots of blood.

My middle finger went instantly numb

the others started too also

but not as bad.

I quickly pulled the knife 

out of my hand.

It went all the way through the glove on both sides.

I threw the knife and avocado in the sink 

pulled off the glove

blood was going everywhere.

I grabbed a towel and wrapped my hand and pressed it against my chest

to try and stop the bleeding.

 J

 was working on the AC out on the front porch.

I started hollering for him

but he couldn't hear me.

I went out side and told him

I needed to go to the emergency room

that I had cut my hand pretty bad.

I was starting to feel pretty weak.

It scared him pretty bad.

We got in the truck and started for the hospital.

He drove like a maniac!

I had to calm him down

 and make him 

slow

 down.

I was traumatized again!

Scared bone bone!

The hospital is about 25 miles

 from my house.

Once we made it there

they took me in and X-rayed my 

hand and soaked it in some kind of solution.

It was burning and hurting pretty good.

Big pain bone.

I didn't get stitches but they bandaged it up real tight.

I had to leave it like that for about 10 days.

I got pain pills and antibiotics.

Good toys.

What an experience.

Since I was seeing Dr P for my right hand

I let him take off the bandage

 and see if it was ok.

It did take a long time

 to get the feeling back 

and quite a while to be able to close my hand

especially my middle finger.

Everything is ok now with my hands.

My fingers on the right one are arthritic because 

I couldn't move them for 10 weeks.

My skin on the right hand

 looks years older than my left.

I cant close my right hand all the way either.

Give and take.

Thats' the way it always goes.

I did get lots of love,

big bones

and

 feel good toys!

The DAYS

leading

up to

 my son

 Phillip Luke

getting sick

and

 6 days later,

dying,

have been

 on

 my

 mind.

The reasons are, 

number one,

April

 is the anniversary of his illness and death,

which is now, 

as I write.

The 21st being the day he walked up and said to me,

"momma, I got a hegg-ache,"

as he put his little hands on his head in pain.

It was about 4 in the afternoon.

It was a beautiful spring day.

Life was good.

And

Number two,

My

Faith

in 

God.

My spiritual journey

 has been on jet fuel for many years,

the last few

 in particular. 

1982, 

being the year that the spiritual fuel tank ran empty

and

 the engine locked down,

and 

yes,

my jet

crashed.

As you know,

I ejected in time

 to open my parachute 

and

 survive.

Its been a rough landing,

but I am very thankful for this landing.

A big part of that surviving was due to my pastor,

Dennis.

He killed himself last week.

My heart has another crack in it.

A big one.

My heart aches.

I loved this man.

I always will.

His death

has made me not question

 my

 Faith,

but redefine it

 in

 my

 heart

and

experience

it

deeper still.

Phillip Luke Ferguson

Several days leading up to Phillip Luke getting sick,

I had been visited numerous times 

at my house,

 by a woman with a 

4 year old little girl.

She

 and

 Phillip Luke

 were almost the same age 

and 

played and played

 together.

My oldest,

 and

 as I call him,

Number One

 and 

perfect Son

William James was 5 years old.

I met their father, Phillip at age 16.

We eloped at 17.

I had William James at 18,

and had Phillip Luke at 19.

I was 22 at this moment in time.

Blissfully happy.

 I had the world by the tail,

 just swinging it

 round

 and

 round.

This woman kept coming back

because

 I love to converse

especially about God,

and 

I am a yapper.

She,

 just happened

 to be a 

Jehovah's witness.

Ok, so what?

(I heard some people say, "don't even let them in")

Come on in.

Let's talk.

Everything I knew about the Bible,

 I learned from Dennis

 over the last 15 years.

Everyone will tell you he was

 brilliant.

He truly was.

He was amazing.

He baptized me when I was 12.

He came to our church when I was probably about age 7. 

He stressed the Gospel to me.

It was the Good News.

The old ways have passed. 

The old covenants were gone.

We have Jesus Christ!

The good news! 

We really studied each book verse by verse.

He would take words

 back to their Hebrew and Greek meanings 

which in my brain,

 helps me see things so clearly. 

Words do that

 with

all

 the

meanings

 they can bestow in languages.

I loved it.

Even as a teenager, 

I would drag main street in my 68 Mustang,

 ride around with my boyfriends, 

 smoking cigarettes,

 playing drums,

listening to and

 loving

 loud

 rock and roll,

riding horses,

cuss and spit.

Being

 a

 real

teenage

 sinner,

 but

 I wouldn't miss a Bible class with

 Dennis.

It was joy,

 even as a kid.

As an adult, 

 he 

taught me so much about human nature.

He was our counselor at a

 domestic violence

 shelter

 that William James and I lived in

 when I left his

 violent Dad.

We had been married almost 20 years.

By then,

Phillip Luke had been gone 12 years. 

I was 38.

 William James was 17.

A senior in high school.

Dennis would counsel me 

and William James 

several days a week,  

for several weeks.

Dennis helped me 

see that I couldn't do any thing else to help

 Phillip find peace. 

He couldn't deal with or accept any part of Luke's death.

His violence against me and William James had escalated over the last 12 years.

Along with his alcohol and drug use.

Let him take my life?

Or take his?

no, no, no, no, no!

oh hell no!

In his death,

 Dennis

 has taught me something I can't quite grasp yet.

Many things.

It's very painful. 

This Jehovah's witness woman

was very passionate about her view of the Bible,

her version of the Bible

and the ways you live

 as a Christian.

I stress live.

I had been in church,

since I drew a breath.

I was in church camp every summer,

having

 a stinking blast.

Good childhood bone.

I learned so much

 but

 at the time

 you think you are just 

being a groovy kid.

Dennis

and his wife Donna,

would take us kids from church 

up into the Guadalupe Mountains to our

Christian Church Camp.

Its a camp now.

When I was a kid, 

it was just a barn

 as the dorms,

and

 a cafeteria/worship hall.

Our Bible classes 

were held in the part of the barn

 that would be the stalls.

It was freaking awesome.

The bats

 would fly

 through the dorms

 at night

 and we would all 

scream.

We were thrilled.

If you could say the books of the Bible you made points for your team.

I,

 of course

could do that,

but

if you could say them backwards,

you made even more points.

I never could do that,

 at least not very fast.

I loved church camp.

I loved church.

I stopped loving church when Phillip Luke died.

I could see no reason

  my

God

would let this happen to

  my

beloved boy.

I loved being a wife and mother.

I loved my babies and loved staying home with them.

This is so wrong.

This can't happen.

 Please God.

Please.

Please!

 I begged him.

Please save him.

Take me instead.

Please God,

Its Me.

Its ME!

 Over and over,

day after day,

as Phillip Luke lay in ICU

on life support.

I got so mad.

At many points,

then and

as I got much older,

I really didn't care about

 God

 and his way of doing things,

 I would do things just to

see 

if I could make God mad at me.

As mad at me as I was

 at

 him.

I realized in time,

I only hurt him,

 and myself.

I hurt us bad.

He never did get mad at me or leave me.

Thank you Lord.

I love you.

I just hurt

 so 

bad

to know

 that

 Phillip Luke

is

brain 

dead

and a flip of a switch away

from his life

 being 

turned off.

There are no words to say it with the intensity I feel,

unless I really, really cuss, 

and that doesn't do it all the way.

 Nothing does.

I could feel my heart literally break in my chest.

It physically hurt.

An ache so deep and dark.

My heart beat would slow down so slow,

I really thought I would just die as it got slower and slower.

I couldn't hardly breathe.

I couldn't eat.

I couldn't think.

I couldn't do anything about anything.

It was probably about 3 days into

 Phillip Luke's

diagnosis of

 fatal

spinal meningitis,

when

my

Jehovah's witness woman

showed up at the hospital.

She had been by my house and my neighbors had

told her what had happened to

Phillip Luke

and

he wasn't expected to live.

Spinal meningits

 is a virus much like the flu,

and it is

very contagious.

There were

 several children to die

 from meningitis in Lea County in 1982.

The doctors gave us and William James shots to boost our immune system,

just to help protect us.

No guarantees.

 No vaccine.

 That would come in 1983,

the year

after

 Phillip Luke died.

A big, big bone to chew on for many years.

That's a whole other story.

I was so scared William James would come down with it.

Thank you God for keeping him healthy.

He and Phillip Luke ate together,

 slept together,

 bathed together.

They were never apart.

Talk about a hard task God ask of me.

Tell your precious, 5 year old boy,

that his brother,

only 17 months apart in age,

his best friend,

the one he protected and loved more than anyone else,

is

dead.

As always, God gave me enough guts to do it,

 and

 do it as

 gently

 as I could.

William James

is,

 and at age 5

 was an

amazing

 kid.

He got the big picture.

 He understood.

Even his teachers, through the years, would tell me that.

I could never say enough how proud of and how much William James is the love of my life.

He was the best child, and has grown into an amazing man, husband and father.

Yes, he is mine.

Thank you Lord.

Loosing a child is not the natural order of things.

There is no way to console the loss.

For me it has never ended.

It just changes like everything else.

I know I am not the only person to ever have such things happen.

It happens every day over and over to other Mothers somewhere.

It's a club you don't want to be in.

It

 comes 

with a lifetime membership

for

 free.

My Jehovah's witness woman was so afraid that she would become a member too.

Her,

 precious girl

 had swapped spit,

played and played with

 my

 terminally ill

Phillip Luke.

Oh hell.

The panic

 and

 fear

 in her eyes

had been

 my 

breakfast,

 lunch

and

 dinner.

for the last several days of my life.

I guess she is bringing me dessert.

She was scared.

 Really scared

 to

 loose

 her

 girl.

Oh yes,

I really get that part.

I really, really do.

This woman had spent the many days we were talking,

bringing up all the old testament stuff

that they dream up to hold on to as Jehovah's witness.

I think it is nonsense, to apply that now.

Doesn't she read the Gospel?

The good news about

Jesus Christ?

He paid it all.

It is finished.

Dennis hammered that in deep.

One point of contention between us

was the use of doctors, vaccines and blood and all such things.

I wouldn't have lived through my birth if it weren't for doctors and modern medicine.

I had point blank ask her:

"You mean to tell me,

 that if your gorgeous baby girl

 needed a blood transfusion to save her life,

 you wouldn't let that happen?"

"No"

was her matter of fact reply.

"God would take care of her."

Oh, for Pete's sake!

I would laugh.

"Yes, that would take care of her, that would be God taking care of her" I said.

"Don't you think God gave us brilliant Doctors to help and save us?" I asked.

She would then go the old testament and quote all the blood stuff,

which as a kid used to scare the crap out of me.

Once again,

Jesus's blood was the last blood to be shed and sacrificed

for us all,

 forever.

Nope.

He was not.

She didn't see it that way.

I would cringe.

I'll pray for you,

What else can you do?

I told her with my total conviction,

never thinking

 I would really be living these feelings,

choices,

and

 circumstances

 only a few days later.

"I would let someone shoot me in the face over and over.

There is no number of shots of pain

I would endure to save my children.

  I would give my life,

 my soul,

my spirit,

 my everything,

to keep my babies safe,

and I would find the best doctors I could

 to do anything and everything they could"

Oh, that was as few days ago.

Things have changed.

How fast things change.

How fast

Faith

changes.

It did in her.

It did in me.

Hers for the better.

Mine I let go of.

Or tried to.

Actually

I thru it as far as I could,

and

I have a good arm.

"Where is your Faith?" I ask her.

She wanted a shot for her baby,

 the same shot that we all got.

"I thought you said you wouldn't do such things. Let God take care of her."

Well,

now

 she

 would

 do such things.

She had changed her mind.

I am glad she changed her mind.

I am not a mean person, and I was too exhausted to do anything, 

and

 I was nice,

but

 I have played over and over in my head what I really wanted to scream at her.

It's pretty violent, ugly, mean, hateful, get out of my face kinda thing,

and best left in my mind.

It's not really towards her, but towards God!

I 

wasn't the one who needed the lesson,

I understood and knew God.

Why do I have to loose my boy?

What had I done wrong?

Nothing made sense anymore.

Life as I knew it ceased.

Everything I thought I knew about God changed.

I didn't know anything about God or anything else.

The only thing I could hold tight was 

William James

 and

 making sure

 he 

had a mother with a mind that still worked.

I couldn't accept in anyway the fact that Luke dying.

No,

 I am just not gonna do this.

Funny.

Yes, you are.

Make me.

Ok.

He did.

The only thing that helps is Gods love

and

 his time.

His Love translates into

all the wonderful body of believers he surrounded me with,

and 

still does.

 I always have exactly who and what I need.

Thank you Lord.

My Jehovahs witness woman's baby girl is 38 now.

I hope she has had a good life.

Phillip Luke would be 38 too.

I will always imagine what his life would have been.

My mothers heart will never stop longing for his life.

Now,

 those awful feelings towards God are gone.

I see now

 my

 Faith 

was

 my life line.

Even when I thought I had no Faith at all,

I did.

Without it, well, I can't even imagine.

I love God more than ever.

I realized, God never left me.

He carried me when I was unconscious and near death itself many times.

He loves and forgives me over and over and over again.

His Grace and Mercy go before me.

Nothing can separate us.

I can thank him now for taking my beloved Phillip Luke.

I can thank him for asking so much of me.

I can thank him for my blessings and joys.

I can thank him for my trials and sorrows.

I can find all in him.

Dennis helped me find it all.

I want to find peace for Dennis in my heart.

I hope his beautiful soul is at peace.

The peace he taught me only comes from Christ Jesus.

I want him to know how much he meant to me and that I loved him.

I know he knew.

I pray God to rest his wonderful and incredible soul.

Somehow, as awful as his death is,

I see the Faith he had that he was going home.

Going to be with the one who made us.

Going to where we came from.

To

Where my beloved Phillip Luke is.

and all the others

 I love

 and miss

 every day.

I see in his death,

 his humanity.

His mind caused him great brilliance.

His mind caused him great pain.

His mind, soul, and spirit

 gave me

and countless others

 the gospel

 in a way that truly set my life

 on a great and wonderful

spiritual journey,

 that without Dennis,

my jet would have crashed with me in it,

  I would have

 spiritually died,

which is worse than any 

physical death.

My perfect boy,

 William James

would have lost his best friend,

his brother

and

 his mother

in 1982.

Praise be to God he did not.

Thank you Dennis for all you gave me.

I owe my salvation to Jesus Christ,

and to my parents and Dennis, who led me to him.

God so richly blessed me with these people.

They all gave me so much.

They gave me God.

God is love.

They loved.

I love.

ma

He called me "Cuz"

It is true.

The 44th President of the United States of America,

Barack Hussein Obama,

in a 4 handed hand shake

with me

(my two hands with his two hands)

said, we could be cousins.

The President
 in New Mexico.

In 2012,
3 big things happened to me.
As y'all know,
I lost my mom,
I became a Grandmother,
and
 I met and talked to President Obama.
What a year.

Who would have ever thought

that in the middle of the desert

in the cold wind and blowing sand

that I would get to meet and speak to 

"The President"

Yes

the real deal.
President Obama.

The most powerful man in the world.

Leader of the free world.

wow

Talk about star struck.

I almost forgot to tell him

we could be cousins.
It was the last thing I said to him.

He is very thin.

He looks so genuine and his eyes look right into yours.
He has no problem with eye contact.

He is real. He is himself. He is so regal.
He reeks of confidence and purpose.

He looked very tired.

How in the hell could he not be tired?

He is the President of these crazy United States.
My time with the President was brief,
but it will be with me forever.
That day itself, was very long and tiring.
Let me start at the beginning.

I have rarely missed voting since I turned 18.
I have never missed voting for President.
It is important to me.
I truly value the right to vote
 and value
 the people who have sacrificed and died
 giving me that right and protecting it.
The least I can do
is vote.

I pay attention to what is going on.
Back in 2008,
I volunteered for the Obama campaign
and had the time of my life in doing so.
I met some great people and made
many life-lasting friendships-
(you know who you are)
We volunteers had a blast, and
we won-
that always helps.
So it led me to being an officer for the local
county democratic party-
Lea County Democratic Party.
The local party its self has a rich history,
and I am glad to take my turn and do
 my duty.
When the call went out that
 The President
was going to visit the
 "oil field"
in Maljamar, New Mexico,
they ask for volunteers
to work the event.
Our county Chair-Chuck Whitley
called me and ask if I wanted to take part.
Well, yes, thank you!
There was some sort of back ground check
we had to call in and give our information to them.
We had several people drive from far away
counties in New Mexico
to volunteer.
I had no idea what the day would be like.
We all met at Chucks house about 8 am,
loaded up into 2 different cars
and took off for
the event site, which was about an hours drive.

Maljamar is a very small little town.

It may not be a town with traffic lights and stores,
but we still call it a town.
The event was taking place out
in the desert,
not far from Maljamar-
 on an
 oil and gas lease.
This particular spot was a few miles off the highway.
They had assembled chairs and barriers
along with the sound system
and
press area
 long before we got there.
It was like being at a concert before the sound check.
It was one of the best sound systems I have ever heard.
It is quite a team that sets up these events.
I was impressed.
The event itself was attended by about 200 people.
You had to be invited by the sponsor who was an oil company,
cant really remember which one,
so it was their baseball, their baseball game.
I was not there as a guest, but was an actual member of the
White House Staff,
for that day, or period of time.
"cool bone"

My clipboard.

I was thrilled just to be there!

The entire group of volunteers assemble together,

 to then be delegated different positions

that work different areas of the event. 

We divided up into several different jobs,

 and I think I got one of the best

as I was in charge of Media check in.

Everyone had to park their car in a big parking lot

and then get on one of four school busses and be driven over to the event site.

I took their name and made sure they were on a list I had.

It was quite an education for me.

There were reporters from 

everywhere!

They were very frustrated with the lack of cell phone coverage.

Welcome to my world!

ha

On the bus

Working boys

Security!!

They went out of sight!!

The crowd waiting for the president.

My new friend and I trying to stay warm.

Air Force One

 landed in Roswell, NM

and from there

the President took

Marine One

to Maljamar,

 then drove to the event site

 in a caravan.

It seemed the secret service just appeared 

out of nowhere.

It was so cool to see how things start moving very fast when 

The President

is arriving.

I had a great vantage point and got some great pictures!

I had to stay in the press area.

The President

President Obama!

It had warned up a little by the time 

President O started speaking.

The wind was really blowing!

The President gave a great speech

 as he usually does.

I had ask my supervisor if we would get to meet him,

and she said probably not,

and she said 

  I had to stay in the area that I was assigned to.

Ok.

dern it.

 As the President finished his speech,

I saw that he was going to shake hands with the ones on the

front row.

Great.

I am in the very back.

I couldn't have been further from the front row.

crap

I tried to get some pictures,

 and yes,

 I tried to cross thru the fence

 that was separating me from the front row.

  I was quickly told to stay behind this fence-

stay in your area!

ok!

 double crap

Well,

 I did

 stay behind that fence,

 but 

I just kept walking down it.

It came out at the very end of the front row.

I didn't realize that at first.

As I realized that President Obama was headed right to me

if he stayed on course,

I got my hopes up.

Closer and closer he got!

This is the last picture I got before he got to me.

I really wanted to enjoy the moment and be

present

so the pictures kinda stop.

I was the last person in the so called line.

I was still behind the fence.

As the President got closer,

a guy who was also a volunteer from

somewhere,

came up on the right side of me,

making himself the last person

 in the so called line.

He had a big camera and he

kinda just thru it on me and spewed an order at me-

"Here-take a picture of me and the President"

AAAA-EEEEEE!!

holy cow!

WHAT???

My hands are now full of this guys camera??

oh hell no!

"NO!"

"You take mine!"

meaning-take my picture with him

nimrod

I quickly put his camera back in his hands.

My camera was on a strap around my neck.

My hands were once again free!

And then the President did stay on course and

he looked right at me,

he reached out his right hand

 and shook my right hand,

and said 

"Hello"

I was so nervous.

I said

"Hello Mr President-thank you for all you do-

(I think I just jabbered kinda fast)

"you put up with so much sh--"

(yes- I almost said you put up with so much shit-

-which he does)

Thank goodness I caught myself.

lord have mercy 

"You put up with so much stuff,

thank you

 for all you have done"

I finally got it out.

He said to me,

"No

-thank you-

 you are really the ones

 that have done the hard work-

it all comes from you guys"

Our hands are still holding on and kinda moving.

"Oh well thank you " I said.

As he started to move on to the

 big camera guy beside me,

he is beginning to let go of my hand,

and I just couldn't let go-

there was something

 I had always had in my head

 I wanted to share with him

if I ever got the chance, 

and now

 here is my chance

 and I can't speak!!

AARRRGG!!

I want to hit myself in my face!!

Lord, think silly girl think!!!!

"OH-

 Mr.President

-my Mom is a Dunham-

-like your Mom-was-is a Dunham!"

As I said this,

I reached with my left hand

 and put it on top of our two right hands.

3 hander hand shake.

As he heard me, 

he quickly stepped back into our space

 and his eyes really lit up and he said

"really!?!-we could be cousins?"

"Yes-we could be!!" I replied.

"Our Mothers are both Dunhams"

As he spoke he put his left hand on mine- 

4 hander hand shake.

"Wow thats great!" he said.

He seemed so sincere and pleased.

We had a great,

 great,

 4 hander hand shake.

"Yes- Dorothy Dunham is my Moms name!"

"That is just great!" he said 

again

 and we kept the 4 hander going.

It was so cool,

I don't know how to convey it.

President Obama and I

finally

 let go

of 

"family time"

ha

and

 then he moved on to the big camera guy.

 I was on cloud nine.

I didn't take his picture again and I regret that.

The big camera guy was the last person President Obama

stopped for.

As he walked away, he got about 10 feet away from me,

and as he turned to go up the ramp to leave,

he turned back and looked right at me,

waved his hand at me,

and said

"Bye Cuz!"

oh lord

"BYE!!!!" I said 

and waved back!!

wow

did that just really happen???

YES it did!!

Too cool.

way too cool.

Big cool bone!

Caravan leaving the event

And then

it was all over.

Everyone got back on the busses and went on their way.

It was sundown before we all got finished with our duties.

It was a great experience

 and I am thrilled to have done it.

We piled back in the cars and drove back to 

Chucks house.

Everyone was thrilled that we got to experience this day.

We had a blast!

It is nice to think that someday I might find out for real

if President Obama and I are real cousins.

Whether or not we are,

I am happy to share just being an

"American"

with my new

" Cuz."

ma