A Valentine Surprise 

Our twenty-first Valentine's Day together .... but our first as a couple with no children at home.  It was a memorable occasion, one I thought should be remembered for years to come.  We have waited a long time for this, so I searched high and low, (well, actually, on the internet), for a something special idea.  I didn't want a traditional gift because this is our first in a new life.  I wanted to establish who we are and what we're about all over again . . .  but actually for the first time . . . because of who and where we are . . . and where we've never been. (Are you confused? It made sense to me:)  

Moving on with the story...the internet provided some possibilities, but nothing that would serve my purpose.  I wanted my husband's heart to be touched for the rest of his days, I wanted to gift something that gifted each time he saw it or touched it..... whatever that gift might might be.

It struck me one week before Valentine's Day, as I was working on the Chamber Mixer we're hosting in April, thinking of raffle prizes ...  I remembered Kent had been almost envious of the person who won a $50 gift certificate from The Frame Shop at the last Mixer.  I asked what he wanted framed, he said he'd frame the Gold Medal Steve Poulin gave him. 

That was an "aha" moment, and I immediately set to work.  This was the gift for which I searched.  This gift would touch his heart, I knew he would cry when he opened it.....perfect!  He cried when he showed the medal to me after Steve gave it to him.  It touched him very deeply.  Steve's an accomplished skier, a World Champion Skier, a great guy, a T.E.A.M. guy, and Kent is a water ski coach with a very big heart.  He has spent countless hours coaching skiers, particularly disAbled skiers.  His skiers have earned medals upon medals...but only the US TEAM Coach gets a medal.  So far that has eluded Kent. So when Steve the World Champion Water Skier gave his Coach one of his Gold Medals, Coach Kent's heart was touched much the same as if it had been opened and physically massaged.  

Kent had hung the Gold Medal  Steve gave him on a nail in our dining room.  I took it off the wall and replaced it with one of KeNyA's gymnastics medals....and hoped he would only admire his medal on the wall from a distance for a week. I searched for photos that would best describe (visually) Steve's gift to Kent.  I found a photo of Steve trick skiing at our pond, one of Steve on the dock at our pond wearing many of his medals with Kent driving our boat in the background, and lastly a photo of Steve carrying the Stars and Stripes at Marine World, when he became the first DisAbled water skier to ski at Marine World.  Then I phoned Steve to ask what he said to Kent when he gave him the medal; no luck, Steve couldn't remember what he originally said, so he gave me a new quote. "To My Coach     Thanks.  You deserve Gold as much as I do.  I wish I could give more.                      Steve Poulin      World Champion Water Skier"

Leslie Villalta of The Frame Shop did an incredible job on framing the medal and pix.  and I was right, when Kent opened the gift he wept like a man whose heart had been opened and massaged.  My man felt loved and appreciated.  Mission Accomplished, it was a great Valentine's Day!

 We met Steve Poulin in 1993; at that time he was already a World Record Holder, the first sit skier to go over a jump in competition.  He did so at the 1987 World Trophy. Steve joined our pond in 1994, and from there we flew.  Steve was the first DisAbled Skier to ski at Marine World (Africa, USA in Vallejo, CA), the first disAbled skier to ski at Mid Valley Water Ski Club's Polar Bear Ski Day (New Years Day, swimsuits only), the first ski skier to go over a water ski jump in world competition (he did so because he thought the points would help the US T.E.A.M. achieve Gold...which it did).  It's easy to see why Steve gave his Coach one of his Medals. Steve is a T.E.A.M. skier, he understands that team is an acronym for Together Everyone Achieves More .... and that's so true. 

The King of Ruthless

Seems to be kind of a guy thing as far as I can tell. Perhaps it dates back to cave days when showing mercy or compassion was a sign of weakness that could cost a life.  Wherever it comes from, men (at least many of those I know) seem to relish in their tales of being ruthless.  Stories are told and retold around the campfire, locker room, living room, board room and bar, all with the distinct purpose of proving who is truly the most ruthless.  The more ruthless, the more manly, the greater respect. Aahh, the art of manhood.

Being a woman I don't quite grasp that concept, so let's just agree there is a gender difference, and that women and men see many things very differently. Anyway, I've heard a few ruthless tales and have been unimpressed by most, shocked by a few.  By far, the most ruthless tales I've ever heard have come from our friends with disabilities.

A decade ago we joined a waterSki club at a private pond and became exposed to waterSkiers with disabilities.  Over the years we've volunteered at Learn to Ski Clinics for those with disabilities, DisAbled Regional and National WaterSki Championship events.  We plan to accompany our own skier, and the US DisAbledWaterSki Team to the World DisAbledWaterSki Championships in England this August.  Our own private ski site here in Los Banos has been the home training site of multi event World Record Holder and Champion Steve Hornsey, multi time record holder Steve Poulin, and now the current co-world record holder Mark "ANIMAL" Turner.

Admittedly we were a bit overwhelmed at our first DisAbled Regional Championship.  We knew one or two paraplegics; at the event we met quadriplegics, amputees, visually impaired/blind skiers and saw prosthetic legs and wheelchairs abandoned on the dock ... as unnecessary equipment for these waterSki athletes.

Like most people, at first we were a bit uncomfortable around "those people". We didn't know if we should offer assistance or not, we sure didn't want to insult anyone.  If you haven't been around someone with a disability, please realize you're missing out on an education.  People are people are people.  Male waterSkiers with disabilities are just like other males, excepting the disability.

Royce Andes, formerly an able-bodied barefoot waterSkier, has been a quadriplegic for 16 years, his level of injury is one vertebrae lower than Christopher Reeve. Translated, that means Royce has no more mobility than "Superman" does, but he's not on a ventilator.  From his chair Royce designed the Kan Ski, the waterSki used by most of today's sit skiing athletes. Royce used a mouth held stick pen for his computer design work, and directed others to build the ski.  Not a competitor himself, once or twice a year Royce skis for pleasure; since he can't even hold his head up and out of the water, it's an adventure for all.  The skill of the boat driver is of paramount importance, as is the skill of the safety personnel on the PWC (personal watercraft) that follows slightly behind the skier.  When and if Royce falls, the safety crew speeds to his side, the safety person jumps off the PWC and holds Royce's head above the water until he can be righted and skied back to the dock.

At days end of our first Disabled Regional Championship, Royce asked my husband to tow him.  Kent was honored, but very nervous; this man's life was literally in his hands.  Kent towed him down the lake and made a wide sweeping turn, Royce hit a boat wake and tipped over.  The expert safety crew was immediately at his side; Kent spun the boat around and idled alongside Royce, apologizing profusely.  Royce looked him in the eyes and said "Kent, do you know what you call a quad (quadriplegic) in the water?"  Thinking he was about to get a serious safety lesson, Kent sheepishly answered, "No Royce, I don't."  Without blinking an eye or cracking a smile, Royce responded, "Bob!"  Royce was loudly applauded for this ruthlessness.

Not to be outdone, World Champion Steve Poulin proclaims he is most ruthless of all, as his mother's name is Ruth, and she is no longer living.

The late Leroy Monson, a double leg amputee, proclaimed himself the best because he'd prepare for a plane trip by putting one of his legs in his suitcase and using crutches...flight attendants almost always gave him any unoccupied seat in first class, of course at no additional cost.

Our own ANIMAL dyes his hair purple, green or blue.  Most people try not to look at someone in a wheelchair, nor do they want to look at someone with purple hair.  You can't avoid looking at someone with purple hair rolling along in a wheelchair.

Most ruthless of all however is Dennis Olp, pictured below with Kent Sandhagen at the DisAbled Regionals in '93.  Still a little intimidated by the whole event, Kent cautiously asked Dennis if he needed a hand getting into the water (the dock was two feet above the water surface).  Dennis replied with a yes, so Kent asked if he wanted him to slide he and his ski into the water.  Dennis quipped "No, just pick me up and throw my big fat %$# into the water, I'll get in my ski there."

Kent complied and the day went on.  When it was time for Dennis' second ride Kent was a bit more conditioned to his surroundings, so he asked Dennis if he minded being in a picture.  Kent said "My friends and I have this little game going about who is more ruthless; I want to prove it's me.  I'd like to show them a picture of me throwing a Disabled guy into the water.  Man, that's ruthless!"  Dennis said "Sure, no problem."

The cameraman was ready and everything was in place when Dennis locked his arms around Kent's neck.  Kent asked what he was doing and Dennis replied "This picture is for me and my friends!  We play the same ruthless game; I'm going to prove I'm more ruthless ... here some able bodied guy's doing me a favor and I THROW HIM IN THE WATER; clothes, shoes, sunglasses and all.  I'm not letting go, PAL, I'm the KING of RUTHLESS!"                   

The King of Ruthless was originally published in "The Paper" March 24, 1999

Tammy's Moment

Tammy is a competition waterSkier my husband's been coaching for nearly two years.  She waterSkied before she met Kent but didn't consider competing until Kent phoned her in September of 1999.  We'd just returned from a World Championship event in England where the US TEAM won the TEAM gold, Kent told  Tammy the US TEAM needed her.  There weren't any female arm amputees on the US TEAM, he believed with his coaching, use of our private ski pond and her desire to support her country she'd be a champion.

Kent was thrilled but surprised that Tammy responded to his U.S. SOS.  He'd been talking to her off and on for 4 years, telling her she could make the TEAM, providing her with information on how to make a sling to equalize the pull coming out of the water (remember she only has one hand).  I suppose the timing, and the request for her country as opposed to a personal victory were what changed her mind.

Anyway, Tammy commenced training.  At first she couldn't get out of the water on a single ski, she'd have to get up on two and kick one off.  She progressed rapidly on her slalom (single) ski, learned some tricks on a single trick ski and decided she wanted to try the jump ramp as well.  In her first year of competition she won Gold Medals in both Slalom and Trick at the Regional and National Championships, her coach accompanied her to both of the big events.  Even though she earned Gold Medals, like most skiers she performed far better at her home training site than during a competition somewhere else.

Her Coach couldn't accompany her to the Nationals this year, but his heart, my heart, our TEAM heart was with her there.  First round (two round slalom) she got around a few buoys and fell, a bit disappointed in herself.  A bad boat time required a re-ride, but it started raining and the tournament was cancelled for the rest of that day.  That night we chatted with Tammy, talked of her frustration in not being able to do in a tournament what she does at home.  Dedicated skier that she is, she attached her ski handle to the hotel room door and practiced being in skiing position for quite some time, she decided she was ready.

The next day I was home working on our website when Kent returned from our C21 office.  He approached me at my desk and motioned for me to get close to him, he wasn't talking.  He held me by my arms and looked in my eyes, I could see his eyes were tearing up and I saw the lump in his throat.  He still hadn't spoken and I was becoming a bit fearful, I knew something had happened but I didn't know what.  He choked out the word "Tammy" and could say no more.  Instantly I knew something horrific had happened to Tammy, I was sure she'd been injured or died.  He started to speak again, the second ran her first full pass at the Nationals and got 2 1/2 at the next line length." Again he was speechless, he held me close and sobbed out his deep emotion, his joy for her and her personal accomplishment.  He was posititime croaking out "Tammy ran . . ." before he could speak no more.  My mind raced, she'd run over someone, been run over, ran into traffic, I didn't know what, but I could tell it was emotionally overwhelming to Kent.  Then he said "Tammy vely, absolutely, overwhelmed.  I was awed.

I knew I was in Tammy's moment and frankly I felt a little guilty, I knew it should be her sharing that moment with her Coach.  They have worked long hours in all kinds of weather for her to do what she knows how to do, for her to allow herself to be the best.  Memories of Dave Wysong danced through my head, my heart . . . at last I understood how much Kent's jumping in those chilly British Waters after Mark Turner (another athlete coached by Kent)  finished first in the preliminary slalom round at the '99  Worlds affected Dave.  Dave witnessed what I felt being in Tammy's moment, telling me he (Dave) looked forward to the day he could write in his little black book of waterSkiing that his Coach jumped in the water to celebrate a personal victory with him.

Oddly enough I had other feelings as well, I thought "Wow, I'd like to share such a moment of personal ski victory with Kent as my Coach, we've never shared that."  So it inspired me as a skier. I want my ski Coach to share in the delight of my waterSkiing personal best.

Getting back to Tammy's National story, she had 3 re-rides (bad boat times) that second morning and had settled down to ski her personal best.  Tammy skied a personal best in a tournament, a National Championship no less.  That's absolutely awesome.

Mark Turner told me that after she ran her first complete pass EVERYONE present gave her a standing ovation, the crowd, the skiers, the officials, the families absolutely erupted with the sharing of her personal victory.

 That's one of our favorite parts of associating with skiers with disabilities, people care about you as a human and they too delight in your human accomplishments.

09/02/01

Back in the Saddle

It's been over a year since I've been able to find a voice, my own voice, to express what I was feeling.  That's odd for someone like me, who never seems to be at a loss for words.  Two major life experiences left me wordless; the second of the two the subject of this writing. What happened was that I loved my mother to death.  The process, the event, the aftermath redefined me.  My own thoughts a couple nights before Mom died sum it up well . . . I'm a big girl now!.

Mom's dying process was as intensely challenging and intensely intimate as childbirth.  Although we fear it, death is something each of us must experience, just as we've had to experience our own birth.  I faced the mortality of the host for my existence, therefore I faced my own mortality.  Whew, it was tough, but not so bad as feared.

There's no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands.  Mom's dying wasn't really a problem, it was a challenge, a bountiful gift.  Mom and I didn't share a close, unconditional relationship all my life, as a matter of fact Mom didn't raise me, her mother did.  Mom and I had some major issues over the years . . . there were several years when we hardly spoke to one another.  We ultimately learned to accept one another as human beings first, mother and daughter second.  That opened our hearts for lots of forgiveness.

Mom's illness was seemingly sudden, although as I look back I can see signs long before we faced them.  Like most folks we got busy living and put off some things we'd rather not deal with until we had no choice. One of the many things I learned first hand was that there is no denying death, it is an inevitability.  The famous "Serenity Prayer" came in handy many times.  I accepted what I could not change and did my utmost to change what I could  . . . which was to allow my mother the comfort and honor of dying in her own home.

Frankly, the entire process threw me to my knees.  Not too long after my return from a spectacular business trip/vacation (to the 1999 US World DisAbled WaterSki Championships in England; where we earned a TEAM Gold and the TEAM KeNevA skier my husband trains here in Los Banos earned an Individual Gold medal) my Mom began acting a little different.  I thought she'd had a few too many beers, but that wasn't it; a combination of her medications and ill health caused her to lose reality.  For a couple weeks she didn't know who I was, who she was, where or when it was.  The prognosis was that perhaps they could bring her physical being back in to a good state of well being and her mind would follow.  On the other hand, she could be like that 24/7 for the rest of her life . . . and her previous open heart surgery added at least 5 years to her life. The neurologist recommended residential care, I'd promised Mom I'd never do such a thing.  Most of the advice offered me was to place her in residential care, if not for my own mental health, for that of my husband and near teen-age daughter.  I made up my own mind that I was going to bring Mom home with me, try to convince her she was a child and let her have the warm, loving and fun childhood she never experienced.  I determined to honor my mother, no matter the sacrifice.  Everyone deserves to die with dignity, and that I could provide to my Mom, somehow, someway.  I acknowledged that Mom would die and I would be left with my actions, my conscience.  I couldn't alter the fact that Mom was going to die, but I could alter how I chose to deal with it, which would in turn make my life better.

I was courageous for Mom, facing every step for us both;  inside I was merely placing my right foot in front of my left, hour after hour, day after day. It was in that state that I found my greatest strength, and my greatest joy.  I found my husband, remembered why I loved him the moment we met and I then leaned on him for the first time ever.  I had faced the first part of Mom's illness on my own, my husband was out of state and out of touch at a pre planned coaches clinic in Florida.  Upon his return I explained Mom's mental & physical state, his first words "She'll have to come to live with us." (KeNyA felt the same way.) The pact was sealed.  Even better than my own appreciation of Kent's character was Mom's . . . for she did come back to reality for the few months until her death.  Mom had often told me no man would be good enough for her baby girl, but Kent proved himself worthy in her eyes . . . she was able to die peacefully, believing as fiercely independent as I am, when I needed strength and she wasn't around, I would find my shelter with him.  No amount of money could have bought her a better gift; a mother's comfort that her child will survive and thrive. 

Our society thrives on what is considered success; facing perils and risks to accomplish whatever it is our task, we desperately seek to advance our lives, our human race. But when we reach the end of our lives, if we're so blessed as to have a little time to die, we review our life and how we've lived it.  Dollars don't make a difference then . . . it's the people, the relationships, the love that matters.  Mom was raised very religiously and had no doubt that God forgave her of her sins because she'd asked.  The greater challenge was Mom forgiving herself for her life of actions and inactions.  Ultimately she found that place and gently left her physical body as she slept.   It was spectacular to be a part of such a beautiful experience. 

The night before Mom died I pointed out that 45 years before it was she guiding me into an unknown world, it was my turn to guide her into an unknown world, and so I did. 

"The Bretter Way" was published every other week in "The Paper" a Los Banos, California publication.