
You have probably heard snippets about me from my teenaged daughter, Alaska, or from my best friend, Rosemarie Munoz, whom I also work with (at Mom's Diner; we are both waitresses there). I also work at the local RaceWay near where we live; Bindu Singh (my boss there) is fair too, just like Joe and his wife at Mom's Diner. I am a jack-of-all-trades at RaceWay. When I am not at work, I am taking care of/homeschooling my fifteen-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Alaska Dawn, who is the pride and joy of my life.
She is my world.
Anyway, my name is Martha Morgan. I am 44 years old. I am a widow. I lost my husband, Brent, two years ago; he died in the Afghan War, when a bomb went off, killing him instantly. He was only 38, way too young.
There isn't a day where I don't miss him. Christmas (or any other holiday), Father's Day, and April 15 (his birthday) are the hardest days for us, as is Thanksgiving.
I nearly lost my daughter, Alaska, back in October. She tried to commit suicide after deciding that she had had more than enough of kids bullying/taunting her constantly. She slit her wrists and lost a lot of blood; I will never forget the sight of her lying on the ground when I came home from work. There was blood all over the floor (and all over Alaska). I screamed; I thought she was dead. A trip to the hospital saved her life.
She is now undergoing counseling, to help her deal with her grief and past issues of being bullied. In a way it is her fault because SHE didn't tell me that she was having a hard time at school; but ever since Brent's death, Alaska has become quiet, shy, and introverted, but now is starting to learn to express herself again, thanks to weekly counseling sessions at the local mental health clinic. Alaska has been doing a journal several times a week (by tape recorder; it is easier for her to talk than to write).
It seems to be helping her; Alaska is starting to come out of her shell.
Alaska is disabled. She was born with arthrogryposis multiplex congenita, which has affected her body (mainly her shoulders, elbows, and hands, as well as her hips). She is unable to bend her arms, elbows, or use her fingers; she has to have help with eating or getting dressed/undressed. But she has never let it stop her: she plays volleyball and soccer, just like any other kid her age, and God has gifted her with a golden singing voice. She sings like an angel.
When she grows up, Alaska wants to be a country singer. She wants to try out for "America's Got Talent"; tryouts are next month. Her favorite singer is Carrie Underwood; she recently saw her in concert (got to go backstage and meet her in person too) and was like a little kid in a candy store. She was totally tongue-tied, which is so unlike her (Alaska will talk your ear off if you let her!).
It was a dream come true for her (and for me). We saw Carrie Underwood at the Grand Ole Opry House here in Nashville, Tennessee, which is where we call home.
As I write this, Alaska is currently in her room, reading (I just checked in on her), and I am waiting for supper to finish cooking; we are having steak with baked potatoes and a salad. I am also entertaining our Maine Coon cat, "Puppy" (Alaska named her).
Well, I hate to go, but the timer on the oven just went off; that means supper is done. It smells good, too. I will have to call Alaska and then we can eat. I will write again soon; until later, this is Martha Morgan saying so long; may God bless you as much as He's blessed us these past few months!
~Love, your new firend in Tennessee, Martha ReeAnn. :)