Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

The Love Of A Sister


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Alyssa Scheidemann is an author living in Florida.  She writes on various websites and has two published books, one a children’s book, and the other a book of poems (www.alyssascheidemann.com).

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Recently, Alyssa had been asked to write an article as an alumni of her college, Florida Gulf Coast University magazine, Pinnacle.

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You see, her brother Michael, was also a student at FGCU.  I wrote a couple of posts about Michael recently on “Paul’s Heart” (see “Meet Michael”).  Alyssa’s article in Pinnacle has just been released, and so I would like to share it with you.  Below, is the entire article.

Michael Scheidemann inspired family, friends

Scholarship in his memory will do the same for others.
Alyssa Scheidemann with her brother Michael
Michael Scheidemann was a bright, loving person with a heart of gold and wisdom far beyond his years. Born with a visual impairment, he compensated with a keen sense of hearing and an amazing memory.

His life ended Jan. 6, 2014. He was 24.

My brother’s memory lives on, however, in the hearts of his family and friends and through the Michael E. Scheidemann Inspirational Scholarship Fund for Florida Gulf Coast University, established by my parents and me to help others with physical disabilities pursue their education.

As his sister – we were less than a year apart and the best of friends – and a fellow Eagle, I’d like to share with you what made my brother special.

Michael’s favorite word was “Integrity” – being honest and having strong moral principles. He was assigned the word in an elementary school show. Afterwards, he put up the sign over his bed because he believed in it so much.

He was also the family comedian. He could always make us laugh.

Mike worried about other family members, especially when we were sick or hurt. When our mother, Josephine, had a backache, he brought her a back massager. When I was in middle school, I fractured my hip when I slipped and fell on black ice as I ran to catch the school bus. Mike helped carry me home. Later, as I struggled with crutches to get around, he helped me figure out an efficient way to go up and down the stairs in our New Jersey home.

Despite his visual limitations, he loved to serve as videographer in our high school TV production class and, once in the studio, enjoyed being the director. He challenged himself in all of his academics and graduated with honors with a GPA of more than 4.0 from Barron Collier High School in Naples.

Mike loved FGCU. My mom and I drove him to campus for classes. We would all get together for lunch at Gulf Coast Town Center when our schedules allowed it. Michael and I also attended FGCU concerts together. Those were times we will always hold dear.

My father, Ernest Scheidemann, cherishes the overnight camping trips he and Mike took to the Delaware Water Gap where they would fish, sit by a campfire and hike in the mountains. What dad misses most, though, are the powerful hugs Mike liberally dispensed.

If anyone needed help, Mike was ready to step up. He organized our home offices and garages and was just as happy to help people he didn’t know. Two years ago, he worked as an intern at the Lighthouse of Collier, Inc., a nonprofit organization for people with vision loss. He taught others who had vision issues how to use computers.

Michael became sick in December 2012. Eventually the doctors figured out it was Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes. Research indicated that treatment for this form of cancer had a high success rate, particularly for someone as young as he was. Michael remained tough, brave, and focused through it all, including his chemotherapy. Even before his final treatment, he declared himself a survivor. After six months of treatment, he was declared in remission. It was a happy day.

My brother taught me – and so many others – to live life to the fullest, with no regrets. A positive outlook and your best effort are what are required to face challenges and inspire others.

About a month after being declared in remission, Mike began experiencing heart complications caused by the treatment. He continued to be strong and brave, assuring the rest of us that this was just another obstacle he would overcome. But it was not to be. After fighting so hard for more than a year, he passed on that January.

Michael was a senior at the time. On May 10, I proudly accepted his bachelor’s degree in political science posthumously on his behalf at a beautiful ceremony.

It is my family’s hope that the Michael E. Scheidemann Inspirational Scholarship Fund will allow many more promising students to experience the joy of learning as Michael did and, in that way, keep Michael’s memory alive.

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CH CH CH CH…AH AH AH AH


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At least twice a year, we experience this superstitious day.  For many the fears are quite real.  Being careful not to let a black cat cross their path, not walking under ladders, breaking mirrors etc..  And if I looked back through time at all the Friday the 13ths I have lived through, I am sure I could find days that had bad things happen (my parents in a car accident in the early 1980’s for one example).  Personally I do not even know the day has occurred, unless I become aware by all the memes on Facebook.

But if you say “Friday the 13th” to many people my age, memories of Jason Voorhees and one of the most popular cult slasher films comes to mind.

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Make no mistake, watching it for the first time (the original, not the campy remake – no pun intended), it scared the crap out of me.  Spoiler alert, boy drowns at summer camp because camp counselors were having fun, he comes back from the dead, and every movie from original to sequel, he kills everyone except for only one person who appears to be the hero, only to come back in the next edition.  This franchise got so stupid that it felt the need to include Freddy Krueger (Nightmare On Elm Street) and even have Jason killing in space.  Just plain stupid.  Face it though, Jason’s mask is iconic and will forever be affiliated with Friday the 13th.

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Come on… you just laughed when you saw this picture.  And I actually do have a “Friday the 13th” story that I can actually laugh about.

Around 20 years ago, I had gone camping with friends in a very family friendly campground in northern Pennsylvania.  Our first night, with the full moon brightening the entire campground, we all decided to go for a walk.  The path started as macadam (road surface) and then changed over to gravel.  We were laughing quite a bit, and then it hit me, the set up would be perfect for Jason to just jump out at us and slay us all because he died when everyone else was too busy having fun.

My friends laughed a little, one a bit uncomfortable as I evidently struck a nerve.  Even our feeble effort to chant “ch ch ch ch… ah ah ah ah met with a little resistance.  We continued walking as few more yards and we could see the camp’s lake up ahead, lit up beautifully by the full moon.

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Unbeknownst to any of us, there was a bunch of kids hidden back in the woods who had a plan, and had actually been thinking along my wavelengths.  No sooner had we settled down about the whole “Jason” thing, two of them jumped out of the brush screaming horrifically at us, meant to terrify us.

At that point, I realized two things.  Number one, I was the sane one who does not scare easily, let alone believe that this could have even had the chance to be real.  Number two… who my friends really were and what I meant to them.  They all turned tail back towards the campsite, leaving me behind to meet an untimely fate with what they believed could have been a deranged mass killer.

I stood there with my arms folded looking at the very creative kids, and congratulated them on their skills of terror.  But I also warned them that their prank could have ended horribly if someone got hurt while running away, or worse, one of the pranksters meeting up with someone who might have been prepared to defend themselves.  A sudden adrenaline rush is nothing to mess around with.  Be that what it was, I told them the prank was a good one.

As for my friends, it was the last time I ever went camping with them.

Valentine’s Day Is What You Make It


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Way back in elementary school, we were exposed for the first time, to the lack of effort and commitment to celebrating Valentine’s Day.  Of course, for many, this was also the first exposure to rejection.  For me, our art class time was dedicated every year to making homemade Valentine’s cards to be distributed to the “class” mailbox that had been created in our classroom for just this occasion.  Other years, we got even craftier, creating our own Valentine Mail Box out of a shoe box so that our classmates could watch each other distribute their cards to everyone, well almost everyone.  Needless to say, I did not care about Valentine’s Day in elementary school.

In my later school years, I have to admit, Valentine’s Day did mean a little bit more, as actual interacting with someone meant developing feelings, so there was this “feeling of love” that could be associated with celebrating Valentine’s Day.  For me this carried into adulthood.

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I do consider myself to be a bit of a romantic.  And I can admit that there are at least two that will disagree with that statement.  But if they dug deep down into memories through the relationships, they will find that at least for part of the relationships, there was romance.

Over time, I can admit that I have become a bit of a cynic, that Valentine’s Day has become nothing more than an overcommercialized event created by Hallmark.  My attitude has always been that to celebrate love, you should be in love.  And if you are in love, then it should be celebrated every day, not just on February 14th, so why single out a particular day?  Most people will celebrate an anniversary of their relationship whether it be by weeks, months, or years.  So again, why create another day, other than to profit off the smitten?

It is this cynicism that has provided countless television episodes dedicated to the simplicity that a lot of men have towards Cupid’s holiday.

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All that is often expected, and I am emphasizing expected, is that perhaps flowers and candy are remembered, maybe a romantic dinner, and of course… wink, wink… some romance.

But as I said, I believe myself to be a romantic.  I have never had any difficulty coming up with ways to woo anyone special in my life.  Three marriage proposals (only resulting in two marriages) all were orchestrated romantically from the actual act of asking the father to marry his daughter (even in her middle age I did it) to dressing up as a Disney character delivering balloons with one balloon asking to marry me (she had no idea I was in the costume).

Last Valentine’s Day was a day that I would rather forget, and not because of being in the process of my second divorce, but it was around that time that we discovered that my father’s cancer had become terminal, and I would spend the next many months by his side, acting as his medical proxy.

So following my father’s passing last May, and with the process of my divorce still continuing, and missing my children, I have not felt like celebrating holidays in the traditional sense.  Which kind of makes this year’s Valentine’s Day have a special meaning to me once again.

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Josephine and I have gone through a lot of tragedy and stress over the past year.  I lost both my best friend of 14 years in my Golden Retriever and my father who was not just a parent, but a friend and confidante.  Josephine had just lost her son, who successfully completed his treatments for the same cancer I once dealt with, only to pass away from complications of a side effect from one of the drugs used to put him into remission.  Needless to say, neither of us have really put any heart into celebrating anything.

But that is not to say that we did not recognize the holidays.  Because of other issues, celebrations have been kept quite humble.  Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve were not about gifts and late night partying, it was about spending time together, not just ourselves, but with others who were spending holidays alone, or also were looking for other ways to spend the holiday.

Valentine’s Day will once again be recognized by me after a one-year hiatus.  But unfortunately for Hallmark stockholders, it will not be their benefit.  No, this year, Valentine’s Day is all about spending time with someone who wants to spend time with me, and me with her.  We like each others company.  And we both comfort each other in dealing with our losses, and other pains that we are dealing with emotionally.  It is because we both know that things will get better for both of us, that this holiday will probably be one of my most memorable Valentine’s Days because it is truly about love and caring for those, not just in their happiest and most romantic of times, but even in the darkest days of struggles.

 

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