Me =)

Here are the basics......My name is Taylor. I was born on May 27th, 1982 in Gadsden, Alabama. I have one sister: Candyce (30), and two brothers: Murphy (25) and Vance (19). My mom's name is Nikki Stewart, my stepdad is Ej Stewart, and my late father is Vance Whitaker. I married Chris Murray in August of 2002, and we had our daughter, Hayley Grace in 2006. I have two nephews that are the light of my life. Candyce and her husband Tyson have a son named Braxton, who will be 10 in March. My brother Murphy has a son named Bryce. He will be 4 in July. I have a handful of close friends that help complete me.

I have decided to do this whole "blog" thing basically for my own therapy. I recently lost my father this past September (09/30/10), and I have really had a hard time dealing w/ this. I thought if I spent a little time each week writing my thoughts or what not, it would help me to cope better. So here I go........

My Life..........
My parent's divorced when I was small. Can't really remember exactly how old I was. Maybe 3 or 4? Candyce, my sister, born first, then me, and then my brother, Murphy. A few years after my mom and dad split, My dad remarried. Not long after that he and his new wife had my baby brother Vance. I think he was a year, or possibly even 2 when my dad had divorced his mother? My mom remarried around this time. That would now be my stepdad, Ej Stewart. I guess you could say he "rescued" my mom and us in a sense. Although my mom worked hard for everything we had, we still didn't have much. She was a single mom of 3, what do you expect? Me and my siblings lived w/ my mom and stepdad, and went to visit my daddy every other weekend. I have many memories of my life w/ both of my parents, but because our time w/ daddy was limited, he would always make it extra special.

Although I came from a broken family, I have been so very blessed. My mother is a "go-getter" I guess you could say, and as far back as I can remember she has always worked/went to school to give us the life she never had. (She lost her mother at an early age and it is to my understanding that her dad pretty well gave her to the neighbors.) For someone like her to come from that life, and give the life she has to her children....it speaks volumes. Couldn't ask for a better mother. My daddy began working w/ the City of Gadsden in the early 80's and finally retired two years before he passed. He wasn't so much the "go-getter", but I could never ask for a better father, either. For the most part, we were his life. He didn't see us often, but when he did, he spent 100% of that time w/ us. My stepdad.....Well, what can I say? He married a woman (my mom) w/ 3 children, and has spent the past 17, 18? years loving us, and providing for us like we were his own. I think he needs no further description. Amazing man. As far as my siblings, I have always been extremely close w/ all of them. Although we have spent most of our lives bickering back and forth, I truly believe we will always be close, especially considering what we all endured over 2010 from the loss of our father.

Although I loved my parents equally, I was a daddy's girl in every sense of the word. Everything he did, I did. Whatever he ate, I ate. Whether I liked it or not. (I say this because I can specifically remember eating really gross things and doing it all for him) Why?? For his attention, of course! I remained close to him for the better part of my chilhood. Until I reached my "crazy" teen years that he would have never approved of in a million years. Of course my mother wouldn't have either. I remember a stretch in my teen years that I wasn't as close to him as I had been my whole life. You know...usual teen stuff....friends, boys....no time for "family". Although I have always shared a closeness w/ my mother as well, I think I probably spent my better teen years being a momma's girl.

In 2001, my mom and stepdad decided they wanted to move south. I was devastated. I was given the choice to go w/ them or stay here w/ my dad. I couldn't leave my boyfriend (now husband), and all my friends. The only choice I had was to live w/my dad. I was terrified of what my life would be like. I know at this point I was 19, but I had never lived w/ my dad full-time. What would that be like??? He was still going out partying. Not to mention he had lived alone for years and was pretty well set in his ways. The day my mom left, I thought I might die. I felt so empty . My life as I once knew it, was over. Little did I know that I would soon become "daddy's girl" all over again. From that moment on, I took care of my dad. I cooked. I cleaned. Washed clothes, sorted and fed his medicine to him. (He had been diagnosed w/ diabetes at the age of 35). I never stopped either. I married Chris a little over a year later and continued taking care of my father. Chris would get so aggravated w/ me (this was understandable at the time) because I would cook dinner at home, and before I would eat, I would fix my dad a plate and drive it to his house. I worried about him as if he were my child.....and that never stopped either....Not until he took his last breath.

After my mother and stepdad moved off, of course I still remained close to them as well. I know for the first 5 years after their move, we probably spoke 3-5 times daily. We went to visit them often, and I eventually became grateful for their move. I knew she wasn't happy here, and she was there. I actually, in a strange way, felt closer to her because I spoke more to her after she moved than I did when she lived here because I was never home. Not to mention the free vacation getaway to the beach at any given time. She still lives in South Florida, and in fact, me, Hayley, and Murphy just went and visited a few weeks ago. It makes our time w/ her all the more special.

In December of 2009, my dad began to get sick. Murphy had initially noticed he looked a little jaundice. A week later, Me, Hayley, Daddy, and my best friend Eddie had went to lunch. Hayley asked him why is eyes were yellow, which aroused our attention. We immediately went to the doctor's office. After what seemed to be a billion test later, and a few months down the road, we were still unsure of why he was jaundice. Clearly it was his liver, but we didn't know the cause, and the doctors didn't seem to know either. He was passed from doctor to doctor. Even the best of the best didn't seem to have the answers. All we know is he had liver disease and a majority of it seemed to be caused from diabetes. He gradually went down hill. Major weight loss, constant vomiting...It seemed any symptom you could have, he had. It eventually got to the point of making weekly visits to doctors offices. With a bi-weekly visits to the hospital to have his belly drained of all the fluid that would build up. Unfortunately, he didn't qualify for a liver transplant because of his health (diabetes, etc.).

When dad left the hospital after a two week stay in December, we all decided he couldn't stay by himself. He needed to be taken care of. We all agreed that he may be more comfortable at my sister's house. 1. It is far more spacious than mine 2. She didn't have a 3 almost 4 year old running around screaming constantly. Due to his diabetes, he suffered from tremendous nerve damage. I knew if my nerves could barely handle it, his for sure couldn't. He stayed w/ my sister for a while and because she worked during the day, there was nobody there to care for him during that time. Murphy would stay and help. I would go over on most days and sit w/ him, get him out of the house, talk for hours, whatever he felt like doing. At night she would have him. Around the beginning of summer I had requested he come stay w/ me for a while. She was worn down (which was understandable because the whole ordeal wasn't only physically draining, but emotionally as well). I wasn't working so I knew it would be easier on me to move him to my house. It had became exhausting traveling back and forth everyday, especially with Hayley. After he moved in w/ me, he worsened, of course. Over time, Murphy eventually came to stay w/ me as well. His health had gotten to the point to where you could noticeably tell a difference from week to week. He would lash out at me and Murphy at any given moment (this was particularly hard for us because it just wasn't him. He would say hurtful things, and then later cry from the guilt and say he couldn't help it). His mind was in and out. He would eventually start calling me "Nikki" (my mother) from time to time, and it had finally gotten to the point to where he had to wear diapers, and he would have seizures on and off throughout the day. My brother would sleep right beside him every night in case he needed something throughout the night.

During his stay w/ me and my sister, he had paid someone to come in and renovate his home. His house was older than him. In fact, he and his two cousins were born in that house, his sister had married in that house, and his brother and father both had passed away in that house. You can imagine how old it is. He had always wanted to put some work into, but never seemed to have the money. After retirement and getting approved for disability, he finally had the funds to put into it. He was so excited about this. Once the renovating had gotten done, it needed to be cleaned out and up. He had stored a lot of things in his bedroom, and unfortunately didn't have that room touched during the renovations, and it needed to be cleaned out. The last couple of weeks of his life it was clear that he was getting worse by the day. We knew he wanted to be home. Murphy sat w/ him during the day, and between me, Candyce, and my best friends Teri & Eddie, we finally had his house ready for him to move into.

We moved my daddy home on 09/28/10. We got him situated, and late that night me and Candyce came home to rest because by this point we literally had no strength to lift our heads. Murphy and Vance had spent the night w/ him to care for him. The next morning we were over there bright and early and that night on 09/29/10, everyone of us spent the night. At this point he was having seizures every 5 minutes, or so it seemed, and it terrified us. We didn't want him scared so we all rotated shifts throughout the night to be up w/ him in case something had happened. The next day, on 09/30/10, my daddy passed away. Age 52, in the very room his father passed away, at the exact same age. I saw my father take his last breath and on that day, I honestly wanted to take my last breath.

Even before my father ever passed away, I see now I began the grieving process. I just didn't realize it. We all watched a man, our father, that we looked up to our whole lives, suffer for 10-11 months before he passed. For most of our lives we saw this man, whom in our mind, was the strongest person ever, get down to the size of a small woman, suffer, and die. I know people deal w/ things like this all the time and even worse, but I am here to tell you, it is more painful than anyone could ever imagine. Still, 3 1/2 months later my heart hurts just the same now, if not worse.

So here I am now..........Trying to keep going, keep my head up, and asking God everyday to pull me through to the next day. I am ready to begin my healing and I thought just maybe if I started "blogging" and getting all my thoughts down and out, I could hopefully finally begin that process.......