From Talbots to Target

Love, Sorrow and Joy

2017-08-27T22:32:00.000-04:00

To say that my heart was shattered when Jeremy died would be an understatement, to say that it was shattered exponentially knowing that my children would grow up without their dad, would also be an understatement.

Let me just tell you about Jeremy. He was one of the most patient men I have ever met, his parenting was patient and kind. Not without frustration nor exasperation, but he was patient. His skills as a teacher made him so good at explaining everything to the kids. He was one who emoted, not overtly nor openly, but he felt feelings. He cried as each of our children were born, he held them and loved them hard. He was truly the best dad, ever. His parenting is so missed by me, obviously, but by the kids. The saddest part of all of this is that they didn't get him for long, we were ripped off. And because of that, their lives will be different than either myself or Jeremy ever imagined. Like EVER.

When Jeremy died, my sister found grief/bereavement resources for myself and the kids. I have said from the beginning, I KNOW I will be ok, but my kids...my kids hearts...their souls...their lives. I do everything I can to normalize our experience, to show them other people, other children who have experienced what they have. To know other kids who have lost a parent provides normalcy.

We have attended Jeff's Place Bereavement Center in Framingham from seven weeks after Jeremy died. I have a ridiculously awesome community of fellow bereaved humans, we laugh a lot. We get it. We really REALLY get it. And my kids have this special place where they speak about their dad, twice a month. They speak about their dad without awkward pauses or glances. It isn't the elephant in the room here, it is life and it is love and it is safe. Recently we went to the beach with a dear friend whose husband passed away in March. My son was asking her daughter if a lot of people were at their house after her dad died. Did a lot of people bring food over after their dad died. It was the sweetest thing I have heard in a long time. My heart swelled and sank at the same time. And yet, this is life. No one gets out unscathed.

This past week my three oldest children each attended grief camps. My oldest, attended Circle Camp, in Maine. My middle two attended Experience Camps, also in Maine.

Circle Camp is just for girls, my oldest said she didn't want to go, but I reminded her that this is not negotiable. She went. She had a great time! She spent the week with other girls who had, for the most part, lost a dad. She went swimming, she swam across the entire lake! She talked about her dad. She supported other girls, did team building events. Wants to be a CIT next year. More exposure to other girls who have had a loss. Win!

Experience Camps, ManEx, is just for boys. The end result was fantastic! They were active, tried new foods, talked, laughed, and spent a lot of time with other boys! They played hard and they slept hard. They supported other campers, they talked about their dad in a safe and loving place. Thought they attended together, they were not in the same groups. They had different bunks, different teams, different tables in the dining hall. But they had each other. And a pudding slide, bananna boats, scavenger hunts, hand ball, gaga pits, basketball, swimming...a dream experience. Supported by clinicians and LITs, it truly is a magical experience for the boys. Truly.

My heart and soul are content, knowing how much my children have connected with other children. I would take my husband back in a nano second, but if we have to suffer this unimaginable loss, we will do it with a wonderful loving supportive community.

Magnificent

2017-05-07T20:47:00.003-04:00

It truly is magnificent. The stone is gorgeous. The epitaph.

It is not too close to the trees. Not totally in the shade. The location is just right. The back has no carving, the kids can use chalk to write and the rain will wash it off.

For as horrifying as this whole thing has been, I am peacefully content in how this honors him. I know 100 years from now, a cemetery stroller would be able to understand how special this human being, this son, husband, father, friend, uncle, teacher, runner, soccer player, coach, Jeremy Eschelbacher, was.

My love is deep and constant.

Always.

Memorialized

2017-03-12T20:33:00.000-04:00

The week after my husband died, I started obsessing about a head stone. I went so far to go to a memorial stone place near our home. In those early days everything I did was in his honor, to my mind anyway. I just wanted to honor him in any and every way. As I was driving over to the memorial stone place I realized that there was absolutely no way that I could use granite for his headstone, absolutely no way.

You see, Jeremy and I met in college where we studied Geological Sciences. In September 1994 we attended a The New England Intercollegiate Geologic field trip, to Maine. This was so far before we were us, so far. And at this time we were friendly, not yet friends, but cordial. We ended up on the same trip on a rainy Saturday at the Monson Slate Quarry. There were many people at the quarry that day, and all of us, men and women alike, were simply amazed at the fore arms of the tour guide. You see, he used a jack hammer every single day. He looked like Popeye! He would throw pieces of slate to at the wall of the quarry to show us specific geologic structures. And each time he asked us to look at something, he hit it. Every. single. time. It was beyond impressive.

No one who was on that field trip ever forgot the beauty of that slate. When Jeremy and I were married, we would dream about of having a sink made from their slate. Jeremy's Aunt and Uncle have a beautiful sink made out of that very slate. Just gorgeous.

So as I was driving to the memorial stone place and realized that granite was not an option, the memory of our dream, the beauty of the slate and the meaning behind using the stone to honor my husband, well it was right. The woman at the store, did not have a lot of experience with slate and really preferred the Pennsylvania slate over the black slate of the Monson Slate Quarry. And "Besides, " she said, "it would take at least two years to have the stone quarried." I was simply stunned. It was important to me to have a place, other than a spot in the ground, for our children to visit, a true physical marker. I left the memorial stone place empty handed save a few brochures, which I promptly threw in the trash.

When I was unable to sleep that night, I started searching the Internet for the Monson Slate Quarry, hoping that this quarry had not been closed down, as often happens to small family owned quarries. I kept searching and would hit a dead end. I would change my search words and hit more dead ends. Then I found a craftsman who works almost exclusively in slate and he works and lives in Maine.

I called him the next day while I was at our friends house, I asked him if I could tell him my story, he graciously obliged. Remember I was, at most, two weeks out from my husband's very sudden and very unexpected death. He was warm, interested and very very eloquent. I corresponded with him over the next several months and when I was in Maine visiting family, I decided that I would make the trip to his studio.

I arrived at his studio after an hour and half ride, during which I heard music that reminded me of my husband, I believe them to be signs. His studio does not have a ladies room, so in keeping with my geology background, I asked if the property around his studio was his and ducked around back and did my business.

Jeremy would have liked this gentleman very much. He was extremely well read and versed in many of the classics. And his name, Douglas Coffin. Yes, Coffin. The irony, I know.

We talked about Jeremy, he shared with me how much he loves working with families on memorializing their loved ones. He urged me to walk around cemeteries and read epitaphs. He told of stone for a mother and her infant, he was so moved by the words that, after all of these years, still can touch the heart of another. He said, carving letters, words into stone is extremely powerful. This is an art, a craft, a calling.

After our visit, we continued to correspond until I had decided upon an epitaph. It is so very hard to sum up the life of your husband, your soul mate, your best friend, the father of your children in a few lines. One of the hardest things to do and to do to honor your loved one.

One year and three months after I lost my husband, I received the proof of the headstone. A few edits and then approval. I fell apart hard.

This week, one year, six months and 3 weeks after I lost Jeremy Eschelbacher, I received a picture of the final product.

It is magnificent.

14

2017-03-03T21:03:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow our first born will turn 14. It will be her second birthday without her dad. WITHOUT her dad and the 2nd of many more birthdays to come without her dad. She is going to the cemetery tomorrow to visit. My heart hurts that this is our reality. But this is our reality. It is hard to be a teenager. It is hard to be a teenager who lost your awesome dad. It is hard.

Our darling. On your 14th birthday you are loved, you are cherished and you are one of the best gifts that your dad ever received. Don't ever forget his love is with you always. I love you Merriweather. I love you, always.

It just hurts

2016-11-21T13:08:00.001-05:00

Grief is one of those things that hurts SO much and then the hurt wanes over time. But it comes back with avengence as you move along the continum of grief. I am 15 months into the loss of my husband. FIFTEEN MONTHS. I can hardly breathe today. People say the holidays are hard, and they are, I am not denying that, but Thanksgiving wasn't a huge tradition at our house. We did some things a few years in a row, then we did others. It is the mere absence of him that is painful, but not just this week, every single day. With every single breath.

I recently received the proof for the headstone of my husband...I had planned the epitath, I chose the stone, I visited the stuido where it will be hand carved. But to see that full size proof of the headstone? Well suffice it to say I don't wish that punch in the gut on anyone. Ever.

I am blessed to have support this far in my grief as I have heard countless stories from other widows whose friends dissapeared or their family just doesn't want to listen to it any more. I feel so blessed for my friends and family. I am even more blessed to be part of a wonderful bereavement group with others who have suffered a loss of this magnitude. They get it. They get all of it. Because you see, there are many of us who were done growing their families, many who had dreamed of having more children with their partners, many of us lost a child, or a parent. Many of us who were divorced when our partners died. The common denominator for all is the pain. The ebb and flow of our new reality, in which there remains this gaping hole. A hole so large that you wonder if it will ever grow smaller. Some days it is smaller, other days you are thrown so far back into the depth of despair, you cannot climb out.

I recently visited my doctor, my provider had retired, so this person was new to me. I have always gotten on the scale backwards and educated the one taking the data, "it is not discussed." I had not been to this office since my husband died. My weight gain is significant as I have learned that I take comfort in eating specific foods, none of which are vegetables or salad. The new provider encouraged me to try Weight Watchers, a program that I have had previous success on. But I am not there. Will I get there, probably, but I am not there yet. Solo parenting and working full time and grieving and honoring the memory of my husband takes up a lot of time. Not to mention getting kids to where they need to be for sports, appointments, social activities, etc. I am tired. A lot. Would I feel better if I were to exercise, probably. But I am not there yet. Would he encourage me to get out for a mind clearing walk and to start running again, without question. But I belive that he understands that I am just not there yet. And I do believe that is his here with us. I believe his love for me and our children continues, just as our love for him continues.

I am still wearing my rings and don't see that changing anytime soon. Many have suggested that I will find a new partner. Well that isn't in my short term life plan. I am a mother and was a wife. One of those is no longer, however, when I became a mother I knew that my life was no longer about me, we knew that it was about us. That they and our relationship with eachother came first. My job as mother is even more important now as we navigate this loss as a family. It is my job to be available, as much as I can be, emotionally for each of their souls. It is my job to ensure our finances are sound and that they have positive experiences. So will I find or ever want a new partner? Not right now. One thing is for sure, life is full of surprises, good and bad and for now. we continue to put one foot in front of the other.

Jeremy Eschelbacher, you are loved, you are missed and you are cherished. For all the days of my life.

Grief...

2016-05-25T20:09:00.000-04:00

This is so good and it comes from Dean Koontz's book, Odd Hours. But it is so full of truth.

“Grief can destroy you --or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. OR you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see that it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life.”

He is gone...

2016-04-11T13:32:00.003-04:00

It seems redundant to say it, but the heart ache and the reality of his absence are intertwined with denial. It protects the mind from insanity. How can he be gone? Why is he gone? He was here, he was real and he was ours.

The children have all been seen by a pediatric cardiologist, their hearts have been cleared for form and function. Next step is the older three will have two blood tests. One is a standard lipid panel test and the other checks the level of lipoprotein (a). This test, is not a test that is performed routinely, and will show the levels of the "sticky" kind of lipoprotein/cholesterol. They are testing the kids for this as it is a hereditary condition that leads to early death due to coronary artery disease and atherosclerosis. This test would have provided my husband's doctors with more information than the standard lipid/cholesterol test, and would have likely saved his life. Jeremy's lipid/cholesterol tests were text book as such he did not fall into any high risk category. But this test will help so many other people, if they know about the test.

There is a foundation that is helping with education and awareness. Ask your doctor for the test, tell your loved ones about the test, if one person's life can be helped by this test, then we have done our job. It is too late for my husband, but it may not be for you or your loved ones. And we will know how or if I need to manage my children's health.

The Cape Cod Marathon fall of 2013. He did great and had a wonderful cheering section!!!

What I have found in my grief journey is that time and life just keep rolling along. It is the way of life I suppose. We keep loving and living and crying and laughing and missing him. We were so very blessed and so very loved. <3 p="">

Hearts filled with love

2015-11-24T10:51:00.001-05:00

My husband was a smoker, but had quit 5 or 6 years ago. He began running in 2011 and was training for a 50k before his death. He had a physical in September 2014 and was told he was in great shape and he didn't need to be seen for two years. He was a vegetarian and his only vice was caffeine. He carried water on his runs and always stopped for fill ups during long runs.

My husband died of a massive heart attack that was caused by 99% blockage of the left anterior descending coronary artery. This type of blockage and heart attack is called the Widow Maker.

What I have learned is he had asymptomatic coronary heart disease and that it had been going on for decades. Running 17 miles on Saturday and 10 miles on the Sunday prior to his sudden death on Monday leaves us all stunned. How can someone with that level of blockage do that?

It also makes me angry that his body betrayed him, that his body gave us no clues, that he was classified as low risk, as such none of the tests routinely done would have revealed anything. All his blood work was text book within normal limits.

So we keep putting one foot in front of the other. And our children will now be classified as high risk and will do everything I can to ensure they all live to ripe old ages.

My heart is filled with sorrow but overflows with so much love. Jeremy Eschelbacher, my husband, loved me with all of his broken heart, of this I am sure.

One month ago today...

2015-09-17T20:22:00.000-04:00

One month today, Jer died. Prior to his death he had taken on our largest renovation project to date. He tore down the breezeway, single handedly. Then he rented a jack hammer and tore out the cement steps, dug a hole for the foundation, shot lines and ensured that the measurements were accurate. Measure twice, cut once.

We took a mini vacation with the family and he had planned to order the gravel for the foundation upon our return home. With one week left in summer, he hoped to bang it out and then frame over the weekends, to get it enclosed by the fall.

But he died.

If you know how things work when you do them yourselves, it is much less expensive than if you had to pay people to do the work. Jeremy's colleagues approached me and asked if they could set up a GoFundMe to enable us to finish the project. We are 2/3 of the way there.

Go Fund Me for Our Family

Loss

2015-09-07T09:20:00.000-04:00

It has been 21 days since Jeremy died. Those words still make me sick to my stomach. The sorrow is so deep and the tears are endless. His birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, 45. He loved to point out that I was older and most of the time two years older. He really was the best.

Death by Henry Holland Scott

2015-08-30T19:27:00.000-04:00

My sister received this from a good friend of hers the other day and shared it with me. It gives me so much comfort.

“Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household world that it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,
Just around the corner.
All is well. ”

― Henry Scott Holland

My love and his love

2015-08-27T15:33:00.003-04:00

Summer 2014, I took the above picture while catching up to them.

Summer 2014. He took the above picture while catching up with us.

My love

2015-08-22T03:34:00.001-04:00

Jeremy Eschelbacher, my husband, my love, my life, my world. Jeremy Eschelbacher, the love of our lives, the glue, the doer, the supporter, the runner, the real deal. Jeremy Eschelbacher, the father of our four children, the teacher, the fixer, the friend, the coach. Died.

In hindsight, this year has been full of so many blessings. And as usual, we had many laughs. We rarely fought and we were meant for each other. I do not know if I will ever understand why my husband had to die, but I have no regrets. Nothing was left unsaid. We were the number one in his life, and there was never ever any doubt where our family stood in his priorities.

As our family begins this unimaginable journey, we are surrounded by a community of people who are walking with us, side by side, right next to us. Every minute that ticks by I get farther and farther from him, but the love will not die.

I wake in the night and feel the tightness in my stomach, the butterflies move up my into my chest and down my arms. And then I smile...I say his name, "Jer," and then I feel him. I was so loved. The tears flow, but so do the smiles. The grief is ugly and it is real and it hits hard.

I have met people whose father died when they were young. I have met people whose spouses have died. I cling to their stories.

One foot in front of the other and repeat.

You are not broken

2014-06-23T21:50:00.002-04:00

Tonight was 5th grade recognition. She was not recognized for any award, she received two certificates. But no recognition. She shared with us a few weeks ago that they had to self identify awards and then share reasons they felt they were eligible to receive the award. I was impressed that she chose the service award and doubly impressed with what she chose as her supporting evidence. She wrote about some of the things she has done at church to raise money for a cow for an orphanage in India, she wrote about caring for animals for various friends in town. We prepared her for the likelihood that she wouldn't win, because she has a propensity to set expectations and be summarily devastated. And tonight it happened. And she was poised while holding herself together better than I ever could. I was proud, she was cut to the core.

She started at the school as a pre-schooler, in the fall of 2007. She has had many ups and downs along the way, but last summer we finally came to the realization that in addition to her ADD that she also has anxiety. These are super tough things to handle as grown ups but my kid? My kid has been working on facing her fears on Saturday mornings for almost a year. She doesn't like to play group sports, she tries things and then peters out. She does not have many friends. She is a kind soul and like the rest of the world, is just trying to figure it all out.

It is hard sometimes...it is hard to be her mom...it is hard to be her dad...and most of all it is hard to be her! She gets up every day and uses strategies to pay attention and uses strategies to keep her anxiety in check. She is very smart and loves to read. She likes science and her bravery amazes me! This summer she is going to a camp where she knows no one and will ride a boat every morning and night to get to the camp. She overcame much of her worries and got up on stage in three different shows for a concert at her school this past week. She is the first kid to get up and go sit with the kid who is alone at the lunch table. She is the first one to console a friend. But she received no recognition.

So I got to thinking...what is all this recognition about? Great at sports? Clap loud. Good in art? WAHOO! Orate well? There's a prize for that. Played in the band for two years? What about the first year? But what about all the kids, mine included, who are simply hanging on to get through the day. What about the kids who worry until they are sick, what about the kids who expend all of their energy simply to pay attention to what is being taught? What about the kids who can't read social cues? What about the kids who are left behind, the ones who go unnoticed? What about recognizing those kids? I think it is time to rethink what we are recognizing our children for.

I would like to award her the biggest award for SHOWING UP. Every day she shows up and gives it her all, and it is hard. I would like to give her an award for doing her best when every day it is way easier to just throw her hands up and walk away. Her mountain is a lot taller to climb than many of us and that is what I want to be recognized.

So to our sweet girl, you went without recognition tonight and it was painful for you, but we recognize all that you do and all that you are and you are loved beyond all measure. Tonight it stinks for you and I promise you, it will get better.

Mercy

2013-06-04T20:50:00.002-04:00

Emoting was not a practiced 'sport' in our home. It is a learned skill for me, I have spent years mastering it and still fall short.

Two weeks after being invited in and rejected, once again, I have more clarity. I had allowed myself to deny the reality, because it goes against nature. I have been repeatedly rejected by my father. Due to his own lack of emotional capacity, that and his inability to stand up to his wife. It is painful, unimaginably painful, to say aloud, "My father has rejected me." To own that? Is mind numbingly painful. It is not an inherent flaw in me that made him reject me, but his own issues. But I do not excuse that, he does not get a pass. He made these choices.

We are all living our lives, day in and day out, separate from him with limited interaction. And yet, when the crumbs get thrown out, i.e. come and see me, we run. If my children were in a relationship like that? I would sit them down and let them know, in no uncertain terms, how dysfunctional and unhealthy this 'relationship' is. That they deserve to be with someone who is devoted, loving, supportive and who makes them a priority. They are worth more than crumbs.

Now that I have this clarity, I have to work through it on my own. He is in no position to process nor comprehend my feelings and if he were able to comprehend, he would shut me down. I have missed my chance to be actively angry at him for these wounds. So I will continue to say the Serenity Prayer and work on letting go, of him and these feelings of anger.

I spoke to his sister this evening. She shared that when she spoke to my dad last week, he was unable to make a connection and simply stated, "I am losing my mind."

I pray that God has mercy and he loses his mind quickly.

Memories, age and love

2013-05-24T10:55:00.000-04:00

My father has never been the father that I wanted or needed, but he is, indeed, my father. He left our family in 1987, 26 years ago. He immediately met a woman and they married in 1989. We were either graduating high school or were in our 20’s, when he left. There were no custody battles, and support for college was provided for those of us who were of college age.

We saw him a various gatherings, dinners or what have you. Certainly no day to day contact as he moved away. The years went on and some of us got married and had babies. He always come to see the babies and was appropriately excited upon good news. When he did practice medicine, after he left our family, he always told the front desk, “If my children call, come get me out of a room.” So when we did call, we could speak to him. He sent the monthly "I love you and am thinking of you" emails and rarely called. He loved us as best he could and many of us have come to accept that.

We have also accepted that he is a weak man and whatever his wife says goes. So when he had cancer in 2006 and subsequent surgery in 2007 we were not allowed to be at the hospital because his wife "can’t handle the family," we complied. He survived that surgery and is now 77 years old.

In April we received news that he had some “memory issues” and can no longer work or drive.

I cried. I have never been more important to his man than anyone else in his life and my only claim to him is that he is my father. And now he will forget me? It was and is so very painful. But, the truth is, he, his life and his medical condition have no material impact on my day to day life. My husband and four children need my emotional investment and moreover, want it. I am happy to sow the seeds of these people, for I love them unconditionally, and I invest in them unconditionally.

We were again, asked to stay away because it would drive his wife, “ape shit,” if we came around. He and I exchanged a few emails and spoke on the phone. He can no longer tell his right from his left and is having a very hard time accepting the changes in his mind. All I can do is tell him I love him, and so I do. I pray that he will lose his mind quickly so he doesn't have to suffer the knowledge of the loss.

This past week there was a very dramatic decline in his abilities. We were told that the, “visiting restriction had been lifted” by his wife, as he had been hospitalized. I was so very conflicted about going to visit him, unimaginably so. Stay away, stay away, stay away, no COME. Come NOW. It is the story of my childhood, repeated mixed messages.

I went. I went because he is my father and he needs my memory. He needs to know that he has memories and they are meaningful. He may not remember yesterday, but he would remember when we were little and when he was little. We were asked to bring pictures, they would help too.

According to the nurses, he had been unresponsive, blank stares, veritably catatonic. When his sister called, they told her that he would likely not remember her and they would hold the phone up to his ear. He did remember her, he was quiet in voice and clearly confused, but he did remember her.

My mother and oldest sister went on Monday. They brought his favorite food, and one that is rich in my memory of childhood, Kentucky Fried Chicken. He has had no appetite for a long time, has lost a lot of weight and was able to eat some of the chicken. They took him outside, with permission of the medical staff; he sat in the sun and had a visit from his dog. They rubbed his feet and got him some warm, cozy socks. They held hands and Mom told stories of when they were in the army so many years ago. He remembered the story! He said he was not able to recall that memory but that he did remember it. He had a smile.

I took his sisters up on Tuesday, they too, had been shut out long ago. I was there to hug him and let him know I loved him. I helped my aunt prepare a book of pictures of when he was little. We added a few pictures and it was so lovely.

We stayed only an hour and half and he ate some leftover chicken, an entire plate of macaroni and cheese, side of tomato salad, a slice of blueberry pie. He had a cup of coffee and a glass of milk. When it was time to go, I hugged him good bye. I told him that he was loved, “I know, ” that I love him, “I love you too,” that I would come see him again soon, “I may not be here,” I’ll come to wherever you are, and I said that we would be his memory. He literally melted into our embrace; he shuffled closer and held on so tight. As tears spilled over, I held on, too.

I knew. I just knew, as this is the way it has been, and even more so now, that this window of welcome, of visitation, would soon close. My father is weak and now he is incapacitated. His condition improved so dramatically as a result of visits from his family that he was discharged on Wednesday to go home with the care of the VNA. He has many tests coming up that will hopefully pin point what is going on with his mind.

His wife sent an email yesterday updating some things, but the message that she needed to deliver was this:

“…he has asked me to tell you that your visits meant a lot and he loves you all very very very much. But he is terribly tired and asks that you hold back from phone calls and visits for a while. He says he’ll call when he feels up to it. I know you want to hear from him and encourage him on his way. He feels that love even when he isn’t up to conversation. I’ll try to keep you up to date with any changes or new information that come our way.”

Was I surprised by this email? No. However, it is a lie. He doesn't have the capacity to have these thoughts. If you do not want to talk on the phone, you do not answer it. He is suffering and we gave him a glimmer of hope. We warmed his soul and let him know that his memories are there.

As I said, he is not in my day to day life and the repeated rejection of this woman is overwhelmingly painful at a time like this. I often wonder if she will let us know when he dies or if we will be ‘allowed’ to attend his funeral.

So I will let go of him. Although I told him I would come see him soon and now I cannot. He may not remember that, but what if he does? He did not say these words and this is not his sentiment. And I KNOW this to be true.

I love you dad.

Gifts

2012-11-11T19:44:00.000-05:00

Gifts come in many shapes and sizes. They come in the form of material things, spiritual things and friendships. Friendships ebb and flow, life, time and distance often limits interactions with those once held close. In spite of that fact memories, feelings and admiration keep personal connections within the heart. The heart expands and contracts with fondness, sadness, laughter and sorrow.

The gift of friendship has been given to me, more times than I can count. Although a consumate collector of friends, I do not speak with all of these friends consistently, if at all. I believe the hallmark of a good friend is the ability to pick up where you leave off and not to worry about the inbetween.

I spent one full year living in Washington State. I had broken up with a fiance two years before, I was diagnosed with depression for the first time in my life, I climbed to the top of Mt. St. Helen's, used explosives to unearth fossils, used a back hoe and met some amazing people.

My first or second day after moving in, I was invited to a neighbor's house to her daughter's birthday party. We clicked instantly. She was warm, gregarious, beautiful, intelligent and full of wit. We spent a lot of time together solving the world's problems, solving my problems and sharing our life stories. We would spend hours at her kitchen table drinking sun tea out of ginormous cups, conversing.

Her daughter was just 10 at the time and we spent time playing together. We played outside, we played inside, we put her rat in the bathtub eventhough her mother told us not to. We were howling with laughter as the rat jumped out and locked the front door to ensure mom wouldn't find out.

She loved Abraham Lincoln and being a democrat. She helped and cared for everyone, she did not have much but what she did have she shared without hesitation. When she didn't have money for something, she bartered services to ensure her daughter had everything she needed. She was fiercly loyal and called her aunt every Sunday. She was a flight attendant and traveled the world.

Her home was immaculate - she vacuumed twice a day - it is the only way to keep a nice carpet in good shape, she would say. She loved fine things and was well educated. She read voraciously and had one of the prettiest homes on the block. She had a great laugh and always wore her glasses on a string around her neck, always. She wanted the best for those that she loved, especially her daughter. She listened to classical music and when she was on the radio, Dr. Laura. She always told me not to 'shack up.'

The last time I saw her was 10 or 11 years ago. I visted a few years before I got married and certainly before I had children. Our interactions had been reduced to Christmas cards and letters. I would get a letter after the hustle and bustle of the holidays subsided. She would provide me with a treatise on all of the activites of the previous year. It is hard to describe the love and admiration I have for this woman.

I learned last week that she was in the hospital, it was an honor to call her my friend - my family - and to be one of those with her when she died.

I worried that she didn't know what an impact she had on me and my life. I worried that she didn't know how much I loved her. As I was flying across the country I disected all of my memories of our interactions, I laughed with tear filled eyes. I was comforted to know that whenever we corresponded I closed with 'love.' She was truly one of a kind and will be missed by legions of people.

Rest in peace Jude, rest in peace. With great love and fondness - Betz

Photo shoot

2012-04-27T08:32:00.001-04:00

Clearly I am not a professional photographer, but look at this subject! She was so pleased with her outfit and felt so beautiful. Love this girl!

Pictures!

2012-04-21T09:01:00.001-04:00

SIX

2012-04-05T18:44:00.001-04:00

How is it possible that my freckle splashed red head is six? How?

Well it has happened. On 4/5/2006 he was born and here it is 6 years later. What a wonderful, wonderful son. Everyday he leaves for school, I yell out before they get on the bus, "Have a good day, I love you!" And he is the only one who responds everyday with, "I love you too!"

Happy Birthday, Ollie!!

Doctor

2012-03-25T14:24:00.000-04:00

Last week it was hot. As in put in the airconditioners, hot. But it is March. We normally don't have the air conditioners in until May. So I slept on the couch. Our house is a 1 and 1/2 story house, which slanted roof on the second floor. It is always warmer up there even when it isn't hot outside. But it was 78 degrees at night in my room.

So I slept downstairs.

And while I slept downstairs, Oliver woke up in the middle of the night, went into our room woke up daddy and told him he has an ear infection.

The next day I took no action, until after school when Oliver mentioned his ear still hurt. So I took him over to the Minute Clinic. Lo and behold...he has an ear infection!

I told him he should be a doctor.

NINE

2012-03-06T18:07:00.001-05:00

On Sunday Merri turned nine years old! I can't believe it!

She is a lovely, gracious, elegant creature and we are so proud to be her parents.

Around these parts we decorate elaborately to celebrate birthdays.

And we eat specially made cakes.

What a special day! Oh to be nine again!

SnowMAN

2012-03-01T10:57:00.000-05:00

If you can have a snow drought, we have had one. Until today. He was outside by 6:30 and had this created by 7:10.

Ending to a lovely vacation

2012-02-27T08:51:00.000-05:00

Will has had an attitude problem since yesterday afternoon. He arrived home from a special adventure with his aunt. He was greeted by his brother, who wanted to share some new things about the Power Ranger's. Will shut him down and said, "I don't want to hear it."

We had some words, time spent in his room and he seemingly snapped out of it.

I don't know what set him off, perhaps it was the shirt with a missing button. But it grew in size from there. Disrespectful, disobedient, destructive, thoughtless and selfish.

I am completely and utterly exhausted, emotionally and physically. When this happens we are ALL hostages. No one can make a move without being screamed at.

As he sat on the stairs waiting for the time to go out and wait for the bus, I laid out how his afternoon would go.

He would come home from school and go directly to his room.
There will be no playing with legos or hero factories.

We will reasses as needed.

I love him so deeply and at the same time have such rage.

Motherhood is not for the faint of heart.

Random

2012-02-25T18:05:00.001-05:00

I gave up Facebook for lent. I should have given up cookie dough.

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The kids have been on vacation this week and each of them have had wonderful adventures. Well perhaps not Eliot, but certainly the big kids have had a wonderful vacation.

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Merri's first sleep over party is next Friday night. We are shipping the boys out to various friends and family. We are taking her and 4 of her friends out to dinner and then back to our house. I have planned wonderful decorations. The kind in which she will feel so very special.

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Genetics are a funny thing. Jer has brown eyes, I have blue and all of our children have blue or green eyes.

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There isn't much funnier than a 16month old who climbs on his father as he is doing push ups or crunches.

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We are watching Lost on Netflix. FREAKY and oh so good!

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My daffodils are virtually bloomed. Um...

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I need to be running more regularly.