KEEP BELIEVING

man in the mirror

2009-12-22T16:01:00.001-06:00

So, I knew it was coming. I knew the holidays would provide some time of sadness and melancholy this year, what with being a FIRST YEAR WIDOW and all. I have learned to expect these feelings at times that would have in other circumstances been emotionally blissful.

I was, however, unprepared that I would seemingly be going about life JUST FINE in my own little world so quickly losing sight of whom else is living under my roof this first Christmas without Brian. I have lost enough relatives over the years to know better. How could I be so stinking BLIND? How could I, in my own selfish chapter of life, forget that my OWN CHILDREN are experiencing their first holiday without their daddy? Honestly, ever since I started dating, I have become a different person in my own home. I am horrified looking in the mirror God has placed in front of me these past few days.

And do you know what it took for me to remember this GLARINGLY OBVIOUS FACT??? It took my son's crying during Home Alone. It took many minutes of prying and comforting to get him to talk to me and finally just confess that he misses Daddy. It took a picture Grant drew today at school of our family - the four of us with Daddy in a casket. While taking a moment to look around this house at the ornaments that bear Brian's photographs or the very obvious FOUR stockings on the mantle, I can see the constant reminders to their innocent little memories. I am sure the constant display of TV shows and movies and holiday specials that revolve around family traditions or families reunited are knives in their chests.

So, these next couple weeks, I am taking a break from the dating scene that seems to have overrun my thoughts and my priorities. I am concentrating again on my children. I am refocusing on them and their needs and their emotions. I am realigning my priorities to spend time with them instead of out on a date, to stay up late reading and watching TV with them instead of texting new acquaintances, to share a root beer float and a game of MarioKart instead of a glass of wine and awkward conversation with a nearly perfect stranger, to lovingly smother them with hugs and kisses instead of determining if a date is good-night-kiss worthy.

I am so embarrassed that my own selfish desires and my own earthly pleasures lately have clouded my judgement with my children. One thing that I feel I have handled SO well in this entire event since 2007 was my focus on the boyz, ensuring I was in tune with their emotions in any situation.

The thing is, since I started dating, God has not been my number one priority, either. The fact that I have been slightly oblivious to my children solidifies that God is not first in my life. I know better.

While I do not like the image God has revealed to me in my mirror this week, I am incredibly thankful that He showed me this just in time for the Christmas break. I have plenty of HOME time to make some things up to the boyz.

KEEP BELIEVING

tootin my own horn

2009-12-20T11:27:00.001-06:00

Lately, the boyz have been all about blanket forts. Forts in the computer room using my my computer chair. Forts in the family room taking my kitchen chairs and leaving them all nilly-willy in front of the TV. Forts in the basement using every blanket imaginable draped over barstools, airhockey tables, my treadmill and whatever else they can find to anchor an all-too-heavy fleece blanket or 5 pound flannel quilt.

I thought about explaining the basics of structures to they boyz - how their choices of materials (fleece, flannel, etc.) are not the wisest for building a place beneath which they could play without having a roof collapse or using too many supports scattered throughout. Because all experienced fort makers know that a lighter and larger surface like a BEDSHEET is the most logical and effective fort-maker. However, being a smart mom, I also know that telling them this will now ensure my family room, computer room, and basement are not only laden with blankets, but now BEDSHEETS. So, I didn't share my essential knowledge with them.

Until the other day when they asked for no less than 5 straight days if they could have sleepover in a fort in the basement.

Being the supercool mom I am, I caved and agreed. Being the smart mom and experienced fort maker that I am, I knew that their makeshift forts were not going to cut the mustard for durability in the event of an overnight stay. I knew that my services would be needed no less than twice an hour to mend and support their sub-par shacks.

So, being a cool mom, I constructed a fort made of bedsheets and half the barstools and supports they had become accustomed to needing. And I had a perfect little area for each of their sleeping bags and pillows and whatever EXTRAS they required for their basement campout. EXTRAS such as every stuffed animal known to man. EXTRAS like the Wii remotes and every Wii game we possess. EXTRAS such as a plastic baseball bat in order to beat up any sort of burglar that would find his way near the fort. EXTRAS such as every hot wheels car imaginable elaborately laid out as a booby trap for possible intruders.

Being a smart mom, I ensured the the fort was JUST big enough for TWO. I slept in the spare room just a few short steps away from their 100% cotton, 400 threadcount castle.

I think the half day of clean-up required the next week to tidy the remnants of the night has cured them of wanting to do this anytime soon. Because I was cool enough to let them do this and to construct the fort myself, but I was smart enough to make them clean up the mess.

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9 months

2009-12-17T07:56:00.001-06:00

Yup.

3/4 year.

9 months.

275 days.

Feels like yesterday.

Feels like an eternity ago.

We've come a long way.

We've barely made a stride.

We've endured many a milestone.

We've a lifetime of milestones remaining.

I have been thinking of Brian a lot these past few weeks. I am sure it is due to the sentiments of this time of year partially. I am sure it is also because I am dating now and one of the first thoughts that crosses my mind when meeting someone new is "Brian would think this guy is a total tool." or "Brian would say, he's a nice enough guy." or "Brian would really like this dude. They could be buddies." (only, by the way, I haven't met anyone that meets that last criterion. I have met some of both the other criteria.)

I will admit that the last few 17ths came and went without my noticing. This one is glaring at me today. I miss that man like crazy. Once again, because of this time of year. Once again, because I am dating and I realize that I had one really great guy - he was dedicated, loyal, attentive, independent, honest, fun, smart, enjoyable, charming, funny, laid-back, respectable, hard-working, relaxed, witty, spiritual & philosophical. He was a guy's guy. He was a leader. He was a great kisser. He treated me like a lady. He took care of me when he could. He loved me deeply and made sure I knew it.

I miss his gaze. I miss his touch. I miss his humor. I miss his voice. Oh how I miss his voice. I miss his smile. I miss his laugh. I miss his kisses. I miss his silliness. I miss his presence.

I stare at this screen as I have done so often in the past few months just YEARNING for the words to express how I feel. There are no words to express how I miss him. I hate the word MISS. It doesn't touch how I feel. Yet, there are no words to express how due to his impact in my life, I feel SO EMPOWERED to move on. There are no words to express how I fear the path my boys will take without his direct influence in their lives. Yet, there are no words to express how I know they will be SO fine because of his indirect impact in their lives through family and friends and memories. I just wish I had the words.

275 days.

9 months.

3/4 year.

Feels like an eternity ago.

Feels like yesterday...

KEEP BELIEVING

Dear Gavin, Dear Grant

2009-12-11T08:02:00.003-06:00

Dear Gavin,

Yes, honey, I realize that you have a stuffy nose. I do. I am sorry for this. I also realize that a stuffy nose can make it difficult to breathe. YES, GAVIN, I know your nose won't let you sleep. And YES, I know that stuffy noses occasionally will release a little bit and drip. So, USE THE FREAKING TISSUES I KEEP GIVING YOU. Now that you are 8, it would be VERY beneficial to you to learn to BLOW your nose. We breathe in through our mouth because of that whole stuffy nose thing - you know, so the air can actually get INTO your lung since your nose won't allow a clear pathway for it - and we blow OUT our nose. NOT the other way around. Holy Cow, dude. JUST BLOW! BLOW! Okay, mommy is going to have another ~~beer~~ cup of coffee and try again.

Also, Gavin? It doesn't STINKING MATTER WHO ATE THE FIRST POP TART OUT OF THE PACKAGE OF TWO. The other one does not have cooties and isn't pre-destined for the original opener of the package. You can eat it. No, you may NOT open another box or bag just because a perfectly fine single pop-tart that is nicely baggied and awaiting consumption was first touched by your brother. GET OVER IT!

I do love you. Really,
Mommy

-------------------------------
Dear Grant,

Now that you are 6-1/2, it is time to work on your oral fixations. You REALLY need to keep your thumb out of your mouth. Your teacher says you suck a lot all day and is constantly reminding you. I remind you all day, but it appears these reminders are insufficient. And it isn't so much that I know this isn't going to be a difficult habit to break, it is that you are a total stinking, bad-attitude BOOGER about it. The thing is, lately, it has become even more than your thumb. If you thumb is not in your mouth, then your collar is in your mouth. You have stretched out and stunk up more shirts than I care to admit. And NOW? Now that we are constantly in long sleeves, you seem to think that your shirt sleeve needs to be in your mouth.

And just sucking is not enough. Now you bite your sleeves. And put holes in them. Awesome. Because the average 1-2 pairs of pants that come home with holes in them due to the fact that you spend more time rolling around on the floor than you do on your feet during any activity (wrestling, riding a scooter, jumping on tramp, playing tag, playing soccer, playing basketball) wasn't enough. Realizing that I am not going to buy you an average of 1-2 new pairs of pants per week, I must either tolerate the judgments that most people think I don't know that my child has dressed himself in hole-ridden clothes or the sideways glances of those that see your tattered wardrobe.

How about a piece of gum? Oh yeah, then the oral fixation become a hand fixation. And the gum doesn't STAY IN YOUR MOUTH!

I do love you. Really,
Mommy

KEEP BELIEVING

Christmas theme songs

2009-12-09T21:55:00.005-06:00

I can't stop listening to this song.

As the boys moan and roll their eyes every time they hear it lately, I have been explaining that it is my theme song for Christmas this year. I have been telling them I think it should be our family theme song.

They disagree.

They think these should be our family Christmas theme songs:

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something that bugs me

2009-12-07T14:31:00.000-06:00

Some days it bothers me that everyone, myself included, trivializes what Brian endured as though it were MY cross and burden. This may not make sense, but it seems as though Brian's illness is often equated to a pawn in the chess game of MY life rather than his own, like his slow decline and his eventual inability to get around and speak was something I had to endure. Just because he died, his illness was still HIS illness. How he handled it and how he carried on despite it all can never be discounted. I guess part of this bothering me is how quickly everyone, including myself, seems to forget Brian. I worry his mark on this earth will be falsely credited to me.

Does this make any sense?

KEEP BELIEVING

before and after week - my jewelry

2009-12-04T07:32:00.001-06:00

Before (size 5-1-4):
After (size 5-3/4):

(To change my ring to my right hand was very deliberate because it didn't fit my right hand. I had to take it to have it re-sized and spend money on it. It is just too beautiful not to wear every day. I want it to always be a part of me. Brian loved my ring. He would fuss at me to clean it up when it would get cloudy with lotion and hair products. He would sometimes just hold my hand and then put my ring up to his very near-sighted eyes and gaze at it. I miss that gaze.)

I am who I am. I am emotional. I am thoughtful. I am a good listener. I am a talker. I am deep. I am a writer. I am analytical. I am outspoken. I am encouraging. I am an all-in type of person.

What many people don’t know all that well about me is this: I am also afraid. I am also lonely. I am also insecure. I am also approval-seeking. I also have a short temper.

That makes it hard to be me. It makes it hard to suddenly be single. Insecurity, fear, loneliness and approval-seeking are not good attributes to have while entering the dating scene again.

Yes,, I have officially entered the dating scene again. In the month of October, I wrestled with all my emotions and stirrings and new sensations regarding men. I spoke with my counselor. I prayed. I spoke with other widows. I cried. I perused through old videos and photos of Brian and me. I decided that one cannot have a love like Brian and I had and not wish to be loved and to love again. There is no set time-frame in determining if this is something one wishes to phase back into one’s life. There is no mandated grieving period. I have been grieving part of Brian since April 2007. I began realizing he was dying in April of 2008. It was confirmed for me in October of 2008. It happened drastically from January to March of 2009. My grief has been ongoing for 2-1/2 years. I realized that I am not betraying Brian, but rather honoring him by wanting this in my life again.

I am 37. I think, relatively speaking, I am young. I think, relatively speaking, I have a lot to offer.

Yes, I have had a a few dates. It is strange, but not really, which I realize makes no sense at all. I will not elaborate on my dating on this blog at all as it is very private and personal and not something I wish to bring under any more scrutiny than I already feel is present - scrutiny that I realize is self-perceived. Plus, it is embarrassing and I do not at all wish to bring anyone into what feels like school-girl crushes.

Being who I am – emotional, thoughtful, all-in, insecure, talkative – I realize vests me quickly and deeply into relationships. My earnest prayer right now is for guarding of my heart. I give my heart away too readily and easily – perhaps naively – and I realize that can be dangerous. I just don’t know how to be anyone I am not. The protection of my children and their hearts is the one thing that I know will keep me grounded in this.

And dating is selfish. Dating requires time away from the kids. It is all about me. Talking with my friends later about a date feels very selfish – totally me centered. Hiring sitters so I can go out on dates requires money away from what the kids and I could do. Then hiring sitters so I can actually go out with my existing group of friends adds to that. Dating is strangely selfish when you have kids.

And then there is the insecurity – am I pretty enough? Am I intelligent enough? Do I have enough to offer? I have two kids that are part of the full-time package. They do not go away on Thursdays and every other weekend. Who could love my kids? Who could handle their energy and eating habits and sometimes rude bathroom talk? Why would someone want me and all the baggage I have – that I have a love for a man that will always be part of me, that I have kids, that I have bad habits, etc?

And then there is the fear – how do I stay safe? How do I protect my heart from being broken knowing that I throw too much of myself into relationships? How do I be true to myself and not get hurt? What if I am rejected? Etc.

Having the type of personality I have and forming the type of relationships that I form make this very difficult to balance against being logical, smart and safe.

Please pray for me as I enter this next phase.

KEEP BELIEVING

before (during) and after week - my Christmas tree

2009-12-03T08:18:00.003-06:00

Today's Before and After Theme:

Our Christmas Tree.

Okay, TECHNICALLY, this is not OUR Christmas tree. I didn't actually take a picture of our tree before it was decorated because I didn't have the foresight for the before-and-after theme week on this blog. If I HAD taken a picture, it would look a lot like this one, only more real looking and full because this year I bought a new Christmas tree that kicks serious Yule arse in its authenticity, shape and fullness.

These pictures were taken DURING the decorating process. The same morning Grant found the tooth fairy did not indeed stiff him this time around, Gavin awoke to find that mommy had erected the tree the night before while they slept. The boys LOVE decorating the tree, but I do not LOVE their help assembling the tree in preparation for its adornments. They THINK they would love this part, but I know them well enough to know it would NEVER be good enough for Gavin and Grant would start decorating it well before it was ready.

I insist upon listening to Christmas music and drinking ~~Baileys on the rocks~~ hot chocolate during this decorating process. The boys love to hear stories about Christmases past while we do this. They love unwrapping each ornament and hearing the possible story that explains it. This year, Grant had one meltdown when he came across this ornament from 2001. He could not understand why his name would not be on it. I explained that in 2001, this WAS our family. He threatened to break it and went upstairs to his room and cried for a several minutes.

I captured these next two during shots as the boys were busy decorating. I think these two shots could not better describe my boys personalities without their actually being present in the picture.

Each year my mom gets the boys a keepsake Hallmark ornament. Often, they get ornaments from Brian's mom, too or various great aunts and uncles. My mom writes what year from Memaw and Papa on each ornament for the boys to remember whose is whose. They LOVE opening and putting these ornaments on the tree. These are their favorites because they know these ornaments are THEIRS FOR LIFE. I take great care in storing these ornaments in their original packaging (plastic, bubble wrap, box and all) so that when the boys are older, and these ornament go with them some day, they will last, because again, THEIRS FOR LIFE.

The first shot is how Grant opens and cares for his ornament packaging.

The second is Gavin.

After all was said and done, here is our tree:

Some day, I may have a Martha Stuart tree or a themed tree with coordinating colors. For now, it is filled with homemade clay sculptures too heavy for the branch, pieces of paper with doodling on them from the boys preschool years, star wars, scooby doo, spiderman, indiana jones and robots. It is quite perfect. In fact, I will be sad when those Hallmark ornaments go with the boys some day. I will be sad when one branch does not contain 5 ornaments. I will be sad when my ribbon is symmetrical and evenly spaced.

I need to remind myself of that lately.

KEEP BELIEVING

before and after week - my Christmas present

2009-12-01T18:20:00.001-06:00

Today's before and after theme:
My Christmas Present.

Each year my mom and dad struggle with what to get my siblings and me for Christmas. Two years ago, they gave us the. best. present. ever. They decided to repeat it this year:

I took this BEFORE picture of the present over Thanksgiving

While I do not yet have an ACTUAL AFTER picture yet, tonight we had a glimpse of what it will look like:

I think I will wait to explain to the boys exactly how THIS BEFORE present translates into several packages of frozen beef AFTER. Right now, thanks to Mom asking them if they wanted to see their mom's present, they are just worried how we will keep these things in our backyard. Our neighborhood bylaws include a no-fence policy.

By the way, I actually COOKED that steak, sweet potato and broccoli tonight. The steak was only slightly overdone, but the wine overshadowed that. Grilled steak necessitates red wine as an accompaniment.

KEEP BELIEVING

before and after week - (Ma)Hannah

2009-11-30T16:40:00.002-06:00

Hello to all!

This past couple weeks at Chez Angie, I have actually taken my camera from its bag and used it for its given purpose a few times. I was noticing that I have a few before and after shots of some ~~things you probably couldn't care less about~~ important events. So, I am dedicating this week to a before and after theme.

Today's Theme:

Me and Hannah. I call her maHannah, as if she were mine, even though TECHNICALLY she belongs to my sister and Matt. She was born in July of 2008 just before Brian took his more drastic decline. She was a breath of fresh air for me in a dark time of my life. When she would come to visit, as so many someones did during Brian's illness and dying process, (by the way so many someones? - the door is still open and the roads to Peoria are still in tact) she was a reminder of life and development and future - mmmmm..hahhhh, did you hear that? That was, again, that breath of fresh air. Also? She was the first girl born into my family after 5 grandsons on Brian's side in 14 years and 3 boys on my side in 11 years. So, again, Breathe it in and Breathe it out. That is fresh air - GIRL air!

Today's before:

Today's After:

Anyway, the before picture is on Thanksgiving Day. Me and maHannah. The after picture is me and maHannah after her face met the springs of the trampoline in the 2-1/2 seconds someone let go of her to get on the trampoline herself. Seriously, folks SPLIT SECONDS. Still, accidents happen, and beautiful little girls look like they get in bar fights and have liquid stitches, but still look beautiful. Just slightly mangled.

By the way, do you like my shirt I am wearing in the after pic? My good friend, Michelle, designs and sells those shirts. Happy Family Creations. You can get them to represent all the people in your family. I'm gonna get a new one that has just two boys on it since that after picture shirt is actually now my before shirt.

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randomocity...

2009-11-20T13:04:00.004-06:00

A few random thoughts and events.

1) My van has fruit flies. I know fruit flies need some sort of feeding/mating/breeding/hatching ground. The thought of finding whatever in my van that is their feeding/mating/breeding/hatching ground is more disturbing to me than the fruit flies. So, I live with the fruit flies now.

2) Grant lost his front tooth yesterday - the one that has been dangling from one side for two weeks, but would not fall out. A neighbor popped him in the mouth with a toy gun. Wish I had thought of that. Or that it was legal. I KID. I KID!

3) My kids awoke at 5:30 today. Well, one did. He was crying that his lost tooth was gone from his pillow, but nothing was there. I told him to check again. Turns out, when he turned on the light, he found a huge pile of fairy dust that looks a lot like glitter leftover from his last project and $2. His squeal woke up Gavin. Neither fell back asleep, but Grant laid his head back down very happily on the other side of the bed. That fairy dust was too messy. Now I am washing his stinkin' sheets that I just washed 3 days ago. Damn tooth fairy!

4) I miss cooking. I am no longer good at it. Groceries rot in my fridge.

5) Lately my kids are driving me nuts. They are whining and fighting and seem to have a severe case of cabin fever. And it is only NOVEMBER. Thanksgiving at my mom and dad's with room to roam should be proper medication for this fever.

That's it for now.

KEEP BELIEVING

guy time

2009-11-18T08:22:00.002-06:00

Gavin and Grant recently had some opportunity to spend some time with this amazing thing called THE SAME GENDER.

Here is a bit of what they did.

Nothing warms my heart more than seeing my boys get to be boys when I don't have to pretend to be one myself. Although I am very willing to do so for their sake, there is great comfort for them in the company of other males leading the way.

Thank you to our friends for teaching them a bit about testosterone. I won't mention who the friends were because the photographer is embarassed he used his phone camera instead of a real camera and doesn't want the credit for the poor quality of photos. I am just ecstatic to have the photos as proof the boys are being boys.

KEEP BELIEVING

just a general update

2009-11-10T09:38:00.003-06:00

I got nothing. Really, I have been feeling so uninspired to write lately.

I thought I would just give you a general update on our lives.

GAVIN:

Second grade is going okay for him. He isn't showing as much interest in reading as he needs to as this is really the last year they "learn to read." Next year, they "read to learn," so he needs to start picking up the pace on this. Getting the kids to read is a constant challenge. He is right at state requirements, but a little low for the class. Not the bottom, though, so he won't get any extra school help. Math is getting harder as they have started borrowing in subtraction. Gavin isn't great at subtraction - he always has to use the number line or his fingers. Brian's aunt, a dear, sweet, wonderful, lady who also happens to teach first grade, has offered to start coming over on Wednesdays to work with boys boys on school work a bit. I think this is a great idea to give them a fresh look at homework and to give me a break. And they really like ~~Zach's grandma~~ Deb.

Gavin is home sick today with a fever for the third time in about 7 weeks. He seems to get sicker these days than any of us. He still eats terribly, so I swear that his immune system is weakened. Sometimes he scares me because he always looks a bit peaked and gray to me.

Gavin is continuing counseling for a while. When I told him we were wrapping up our sessions because counseling is not supposed to be forever, he freaked out and started carrying stuffed animals around all the time and sleeping with Daddy's things again saying he can't stop because he is still sad. I explained it was okay to be sad and he will FOREVER be sad some, but he was okay. The counselor and I agreed that despite losing our insurance coverage and going to private pay, we will continue until it appears the decision comes more from Gavin. Also, the group where we attend counseling is introducing a support group for 8-12 year-old's who have experienced a significant loss. I think this will be great for Gavin.

GRANT:
First grade for Grant is going about the same as second is for Gavin. He doesn't love to read, but needs to do more of it. I have been very concerned about him academically, but have noticed in the last two weeks, he seems to be making great strides in his printing and some decent strides in his reading. His teacher informed me that is common after the first quarter. In the end, I did not do much academically with the boys all summer, so it is no wonder they would be a bit lost when school started again.

Grant is doing well with his grief. We all had a hard week the week of Brian's birthday. Halloween, the announced end of counseling, Brian's birthday all falling together took every one of us to a bit of a melt down stage. We all three had some crying episodes. And we were all there for each other. We all understand this need for each of us to express this in any way we can at often very random times. Grant is finished with his counseling, but he still sees the school counselor.

Grant is my protector. When he sees me crying, he sniffs, puffs up his chest, comes to me and immediately hugs me gently and firmly. After he does this for a while, he THEN asks me what is wrong. Do you have any idea how WISE and comforting that is?? To not have to explain why you are crying when you sometimes don't KNOW why you are crying anyway and to just have an unconditional loving pair of arms there to hold you and allow you to cry? I tell him he is never more like Jesus than when he is like that. Anyway, he usually waits til I calm down then gets me a tissue or asks if I need some water or writes me a note and brings it to me a few minutes later. He is so incredibly sweet inside that very rough outer surface. I love that boy.

ME:
I have been good. I struggle with creativity and motivation. I don't cook much anymore as I have stated in the past. I have been working out a lot trying to lose some of the 15+ pounds that I gained since 2008 that I had lost in 2006. I am making strides suddenly with that. I often forget to eat. Seriously, some days it is 2:00 and I realize I am starving because I have not eaten since yesterday at 2:00. I am trying to get better at eating at least little bits all day if not full meals.

I am leading a Bible Study now to my group of women from my Mom's group at church. I am very excited and we will have our first discussion on Thursday. Please pray for me. I have never led a Bible Study from beginning to end. It is called Wisdom for Mothers. It concentrates on your relationships in life starting with God, your spouse, your children and your service - IN THAT ORDER. I am super passionate about your relationships being prioritized IN THAT ORDER and especially a mother's relationship with her spouse. It seems we as moms often fall into the trap of putting our spouse on the back burner and focusing on our children.

I have been doing well in my grief. Not sure what the holidays will bring. I may attend a seminar this weekend put on by Hospice about tips on how to handle the holidays. As my wonderful dear wise counselor has stated, this year is my road map. I am figuring out what moments in time are difficult, what events or situations remind me of Brian, and what works for handling it all.

I have been doing a lot of reflecting on "what was I doing this time last year." My counselor says this is very normal. I have been a bit flooded with emotions around this time. It was last October that we found out the tumor had been growing despite the second chemo. It was this week last year where I had the worst, then best, then worst, then best week of my life ever.

It was the first week of November last year when we thought Brian was dying. He had excruciating headaches, loss of balance, little blackout spells and confusion. He had pressure in his ventricle and after a whirlwind 3-1/2 day stay in the hospital, he had a shunt installed and walked out of the hospital a new man who lived over 4 more months.

It was during this hospital stay that my mom took the boys to her house for the weekend because Gavin had a fever and we didn't want to risk his getting Brian sick while we were so unsure what was happening in the hospital - making this horrific decision to spend time apart not knowing how much time Brian had left. Brian got home from the hospital on Saturday afternoon. I picked up the boys on Sunday morning. Gavin was still so sick - going on 4 days now with almost no food or water intake. Then, at 2:00 am, I could no longer handle watching him moan and shiver with a 104 fever. I was not waiting for the 8:30 am office to open. I knew he needed more. We went to the ER and he was admitted a few hours later after he kept nothing down and his fever could not easily be controlled.

Little did I know when I left that hospital at 1:00 on Saturday, I would be back 19 hours later for another 3-1/2 day stay WITH MY SON and I would once again have to decide which family members to spend time with. You can't imagine how incredibly painful that is for a mom, a wife and a caregiver. Just thinking about it right now floods me with tears. My counselor says this is so normal. She likens it to a soldier's post traumatic stress disorder. At the time, you are in survival mode just doing exactly what you need to do to get through the day and take care of those that need to be taken care of. Then, you think back on it and can't believe you survived it. It haunts you.

Anyway, other than that, things are going well. Still building my road map. Still figuring out trigger points. Coming to terms with moving on, but with little guilt. Praying for guarding of my heart as I consider dating again. Trying to rekindle friendships and family relationships. Starting some new friendships. Beginning to think about what to get the boys for Christmas and what new traditions we can begin. Contemplating. Analyzing. Playing. Praying. Living.

KEEP BELIEVING

is this how it is supposed to work?

2009-11-06T10:46:00.001-06:00

Dear Brian,

It seems as though people are starting to forget. Ever since September, the phone call, email, random text, letter and card influx inquiring as to how the boys are I are faring has slowly faded to nearly a complete halt. A couple random texts or contacts every other week or so occurs. At first, I was very upset by this. How could people forget you so quickly? How could the fact that your physical presence is no longer with us allow everyone the opportunity to so easily go on with their lives and slowly erase you from their memory?

Lately, though, I have been a bit, actually, a LOT conflicted regarding my own thoughts and you. It seems I am thinking of you less. At first, as is in my nature, I tried to analyze if it was truly less or just differently. I have come to the conclusion that I am actually thinking of you LESS. And I don't even feel that bad about it. Strange?

Sometimes I WANT to think of you more. But lately, it has been occurring to me that continuing to focus on you to the extent that I was focusing on you is living in the past. Brian, you NEVER lived in the past. In fact, when I had a hard time forgiving myself for sins of the past and wallowing in regret, you often would help me snap out of it calling the past exactly what it was - OVER. You did like to playfully and fondly recall past stories as we all do, but you didn't live there.

But calling you my past and calling the past over seems so strange. In the end, though, Brian, you are never coming back to me on this earth. I cannot continue to focus so much of my energy and my emotions into thinking of what WAS. Just as you made it abundantly clear to me that you wanted me to move on with my life someday, I have to start thinking about what MAY BE. And one of the only ways I find to do that is to simply think of you less. The only way I can prepare my heart and mind to open to the possibility of someone else is to simply free some space.

I still think of you and what you would think of this or that decision with the boys.

I still think of you as I try to determine how to let these little boys turn into big kids.

I still think of you when I develop a woeful attitude quickly snapping out of it.

I still think of you when I lie in bed at night.

I still think of you when a certain song comes on the radio.

I still think of you when I look at our bathroom in the basement that you built with only one working arm.

I still think of you a lot, but just not as much.

I think this is how you would want it. I THINK.

KEEP BELIEVING

New Birthday Traditions

2009-11-02T08:35:00.003-06:00

Happy Birthday to you....

Happy Birthday to You....Happy Birthday Dear Brian/Daddy....Happy Birthday to you!!

Today, You would have turned 37, dear Brian. THIRTY-SEVEN. And I would have reminded you 10 times in the last month how old you were because HONESTLY you had a terrible concept of years. You had no idea how old you truly were even when you were healthy.

This morning, the boys blew out candles on a package of cinnamon rolls. Grant got two candles to blow to balance the fact that Gavin found the only remaining green - your favorite color -candle.

Yesterday, we started a new Daddy birthday tradition. Since we can't buy you gifts, we bought ourselves gifts. This is a sampling of what the boys picked out:

Aside from being dreadfully alarmed that this is what Timothy McVeigh's childhood pictures may have looked like, I am pleasantly reminded from friends that boys are boys are boys are boys.

On another note, Mom got jewelry!

Isn't it lovely?

Seriously, though, I couldn't justify buying myself a gift when I have been spending plenty of money on house projects, painting, a few new articles of clothing, etc.

Anyway, Brian, we wish we could celebrate your birthday here with you today. I miss our own little private.... ahem.... birthday parties. The boys just want cake. I wish I just wanted cake.

I would think there are no birthdays in heaven. Not sure about that. From what I understand about heaven, there is no concept of time. How do you measure time in a place of eternity? So, while we know you are blissfully enjoying heaven, we remember you today. We celebrate you today. We miss you today.

And everyday.

KEEP BELIEVING

How Google saved my son's life...

2009-10-30T07:23:00.001-05:00

So, the other day, this guy who claims to be my kids' grandpa suggested he come over and ~~torture me~~ help out with the pumpkin carving this year. I told him I was maybe going to let the pumpkin carving tradition fade away, but agreed this was probably not the right year to do so. He wanted to come help me out because he knows that while THIS is adorable:

This:

Makes me feel all, like this:

While we were starting our clean up process, I noticed this on my beautiful, expensive kitchen table:

And I realized it was THIS:

So then I was all, like THIS:

So, after some attempts at wiping it with various non-abrasive, non-surface-defacing products, and some sharp pointed comments towards the culprit who was soon formerly to be known as Grant, I decided to google: "How do I get sharpie off my wood?" And wouldn't you know there were several hits! I knew, by experience, not to use the Magic Eraser if I wanted to keep my finish, so I found an article that said to use this:

And guess what? It worked. After I buffed out the eraser smears and wiped it with some pledge oil, it is barely noticeable. So, then we were both all, like this:

Thanks Google! The child still known as Grant thanks you, too.

KEEP BELIEVING

take a compliment

2009-10-26T11:59:00.005-05:00

Brian used to say I was terrible at taking a compliment.

When he would delight in something I made for dinner, I would discount it by pointing out how THIS wasn't quite done or I couldn't find THAT ingredient or simply shrug it off as being OKAY.

When he would tell me I was beautiful, which was JUST often enough to be believable, I would dismiss his words of praise by commenting about the spot on my sweater or my smudged make-up or how my hair just didn't cooperate that day or how my pants were too tight or how I had a pimple on my hairline or how I needed to brush my teeth, OR... OR... OR...

And sometimes he would jokingly and sarcastically say, "EW. I didn't notice that. Now that I know that, I take it back. Yuck."

And sometimes he would say, "You are no fun to compliment because you discredit everything I say."

So, over the last two years, I learned to just say, "Thank you. Now kiss me and prove you mean it." MOST of the time, that is. I still discounted the compliments some.

The funny thing is that today I MISS THOSE COMPLIMENTS. I miss being told I am a good cook. I miss being told the house looks nice. I miss being told I am smart and capable. I miss being told I look sexy or even NICE. I miss being told I am beautiful. I cannot begin to tell you how much I crave hearing those words today. When I get even an unsolicited, I LOVE YOU from my boys, it takes me through the day and into next week. Rarely hearing a compliment anymore is one of the most difficult aspects of losing my beloved.

Because when you stop hearing those things, you stop believing those things. I never realized how much Brian was validating me with his words of encouragement and love.

KEEP BELIEVING

Going Down the Road Feelin' Bad....

2009-10-22T13:30:00.003-05:00

Look for me.

Or listen for me.

I will be the one driving 72 mph in a Honda Odyssey down I-55, IL Rt 4, I-64, I-57 and I-24 from Peoria to Paducah today belting out showtunes. My kids will blissfully ignore with their wireless headphones and overhead DVD player.

You see, I defaced Brian's beloved IPOD. Brian is Led Zeppelin, Grateful Dead and the Doors.

I am Evita, Phantom of the Opera, Jesus Christ Superstar, Madonna and Prince.

And while Brian gave me an appreciation for Classic Rock and I do love it, NOW I CONTROL THE IPOD. I deleted Metallica (less Enter Sandman) and all other Metal. I added Britney, Avril, Evita and Phantom.

But, I did not TOUCH the beloved and now sacred BOZO'S MIX playlist. NEVER!!!

One road song Brian and I ALWAYS agreed upon which requires at least a 20% volume increase while screaming along with an occasional air guitar and a drumming on the dash is this one:

And guess what else? I left Led Zeppelin, Grateful Dead, and the Doors.

So, between my renewed, heavily discounted XM, a reloaded IPOD and some Podcasts from our church, I am hoping this drive actually goes quickly. We will see.

Oh and by the way, in keeping with this theme, see that big green blob covering the entire middle section of our country. That is our route. Awesome.

What about you? What makes your road trip time pass faster? Especially the road trips where between here and there the only scenic pleasure is a corn field. Times 3,584.

KEEP BELIEVING

Guess who...

2009-10-21T13:52:00.001-05:00

Remember how I mentioned recently how things seem to go in my life....

Well, guess who has a first grader who's class was doing a math/science project with pumpkins?

Guess who didn't sign up to help?

Guess who developed a conscience about not signing up to help and last minute asked the teacher today if she still needed help?

Guess who was needed (badly)?

Guess who got to school to find only two other moms helping - both with twins and trying to bounce from classroom to classroom with other first graders?

Guess who helped 6 first graders carve a pumpkin so they could explore the inside, count seeds and decide on a face?

Guess who's group discovered their pumpkin was ROTTEN in the middle?

Guess what a rotten pumpkin looks, feels and SMELLS like in the middle?

Guess who gagged for the first 5 minutes after opening and still scooping seeds out of a slimy partially rotten pumpkin?

Guess who's first graders all last interest in helping with a slimy, smelly, partially rotten pumpkin?

Guess who didn't breathe out of her nose for the next 30 minutes?

Guess who washed her hands no less than 15 times in the next 30 minutes and still will never get that smell out of her now etched nostrils?

Guess who hates carving pumpkins even at home?

Guess who loved it and began this tradition with his kids years ago?

Guess who is able to take Texan Mama's advice and laugh about this situation even as it was happening?

Guess who would be so proud of the mom who hates carving pumpkins, who is getting burned out on volunteering at school and who did it anyway with a giggle in her memory box about the entire situation?

Guess who rejoiced upon completing this project (for the second straight year since she also had a first grader last year) knowing she has no more first graders?

Guess who found out that third graders also carve pumpkins?

Guess who will have a third grader next year?

Guess who will have a third grader the year after that?

Any guesses?

KEEP BELIEVING

two steps forward, one step back...

2009-10-19T10:31:00.000-05:00

I don't know if you have noticed or not, but to me when I read over the last 7 months of posts, I notice a slight trend in the overall mood of this blog. As I read, I notice that the first several weeks after Brian's death were full of, "I don't feel like doing this" mentality. My mentality is changing a bit to not wanting this for anyone else, to understanding that it does get easier, to simply forcing some mood changes at home.

The forced smiles are working. Strange therapy, I realize, but honestly, I have heard enough sermons on the topic and been in enough Bible studies to know that there is JOY to be claimed even when your heart is hurting and your whole body doesn't feel like rejoicing. JOY is still abundant. And Christ wants JOY in our lives. You can still have joy even if you have a bad marriage. You can still have JOY even if you are fighting illness. You can still have JOY even if you are oppressed and mistreated. You can still have JOY when you have been told you are dying. And you can still have JOY when what you thought was your future left this world without you 7 months ago.

(one step forward)

In the past 6-8 weeks, since around the second week of September, my mindset has been shifting a bit. I have started focusing more on what lies ahead instead of what just happened. I find my thoughts looking more towards my potential future rather than mourning the future I had planned - one that included Brian.

(one step forward)

The kids and I are in a better routine. The schoolwork is probably the biggest challenge. Honestly, they both struggle a bit - especially Grant right now. That is very difficult for me because I lack patience in this arena. I am praying for patience and gentleness in this aspect of my life so I can be a better teacher and mom to the boys since this will be a huge part of their lives for years to come. Honestly, I get Grant so frustrated with my lack of patience, that he sometimes claims he wants to go back to Kindergarten. My problem is that I never really struggled in school. I didn't have to work hard for many years and when I did, if I just applied and practiced and did some homework problems, I pretty much "got it." (except Dynamics [shudder]). So, I don't "get" "not getting it." Clear as mud? That's what I thought. I've had a couple friends offer to work with Grant independently, so pending the outcome of his conference on Thursday, I may hold them to that offer.

(one step back)

Still, other than the homework, the boys and I are finding our groove. I have implemented a 'no screens' rule (video games, computer, TV) on Mondays-Thursdays. There is no Spongebob to compete with teeth-brushing time in the mornings. They come home and do homework immediately with no ICarly tempting them in the background. And they PLAY with TOYS in the evenings. Well, sort of. They usually set them all up in some sort of never-ending war of the worlds they have created in the basement. A war that makes it very difficult to get from point A to point B. Point A being the bottom of the stairs and Point B being ANYWHERE IN THE REST OF THE BASEMENT due to their elaborate traps, battle zones, MASH tents, headquarters, etc. I do love watching their imaginations at work, but I do LOATHE the resulting mess.

(one step forward)

The boys are almost finished with their counseling sessions. The counselor thinks we have done a great job in processing their grief, which is obviously ongoing, and are equipped to continue. I, strangely, was more worried about Grant who seemed to suppress his emotions a bit in the last several months - since mid-summer. The counselor suggested that he did not see anything alarming in Grant, rather that perhaps Grant was farther along in his grief process. Last week, during Grant's session, he finally spoke of Daddy. He claimed, as he does to me all the time, that he does not miss Dad. This initially broke my heart when he made this proclamation to me this summer. Still, he told the counselor again he did not miss Dad. And upon further discussion (through a game) he told the counselor that his Daddy wasn't hurting anymore. It must have been very difficult for Grant to come home from Kindergarten every day at lunch time last year and watch his Daddy - his male role model, his protector, his human superman - slowly deteriorate. Kids in essence want their parents strong and happy. Anyway, Grant was able to process what was happening to Brian as he witnessed it first-hand with me last Fall and Winter. And he has come to terms with it as being okay for him and okay for Brian. In the end, that is the place we all need to be.

(one step forward)

I do miss Brian immensely right now. I miss the laughter he brought to my life with his sarcastic, dry, witty comments. He was great at a quick one-liner. And he thought I was funny. To get a laugh these days, I have to do things like this: While Gavin was practicing typing his spelling words last week (another medium we try to use to change up the mundane task of printing the same 15 words 4 days a week), I took MY turn. I printed the words: "Gavin is a poopy head." Which had Grant in stitches. Then I typed: "Grant is a fart-face." Which had Gavin in stitches and opened a can of worms I wish had stayed sealed shut with what they continued to type the rest of the evening. Still, that is the level to which I have to resort to get a laugh.

(neither forward nor back, or is that just back??)

Also, I miss having a driver. I have been to my parents' (4 hours one way) twice since the last weekend of September. This past weekend we went to Indiana to see McKenna get baptized. (4 hours one way) This weekend, we are going to Paducah, KY to see Kevin, Heather and the kids in their new house (at least 5 hours one way). In two weeks, I am going to St. Louis (3 hours one way). All that driving and being the only driver gets really old. I long to be a passenger again - reading, taking care of snacks and movies for the kids, channel surfing or manning the IPOD, telling Brian he is driving too slow, complaining about the route Brian chose, you know, all that kind of passenger stuff...

(one step back)

Also, I miss Brian's touch. Oh my LORD, how I miss being touched by him. I miss simply holding his hand. I miss his warmth next to me at night and intertwining our feet while we slept. I miss resting my head in his lap on the couch while he played with my hair. I miss snuggling in the crook of his arm. And yes, I mean I miss his touch in every other way your mind is taking you right now. Holy Cow, if someone could just tell me how to shut this off, I would really appreciate it. Honestly, I PRAY for these desires to flee me. And I can't believe I am sharing this with you, but I was NOT prepared for this part.

(one step back)

I have done a lot of road time as I outlined above and I am soon to do even more road time. One of the things this ROAD TIME allows is opportunity to think. WAY TOO MUCH TIME TO THINK. Since the kids pretty much watch movies the entire way, my mind just marches all over the world and back again. I think about Brian and how I miss him. But, mostly, when I think of Brian now, I smile. My memories of Brian are good ones now. I am not so consumed with the week of his death as I was. I am not so much caught up in my guilt of how I stopped believing in his healing. I think about the man he was. I think about how inspiring he was. I think about the silly things he said and did. When I think of him, I smile more than cry. From what I research, that is a pretty big step in grieving.

(one step forward)

I, also, think about the future. As I stated before, when I think about the future I now think about a different future instead of pitying myself for the future that won't be. I think about where I want to live. I still don't know. Part of me wants to go back to St. Louis to be closer to my family. I have not lived in the same state or within 4 hours of my family since 1995. I would love to experience that. But, I know it is not so easy to just pick up and go somewhere I haven't lived in 15 years. And, to do that, would be to take on an identify in my world of 'single mom of two boys.' It would no longer be - 'Angie, widow of Brian.' I am not ready to take on my identity without Brian, yet.

(neither forward nor back)

Also, when I think about the future, I think about the boys and me. I really don't want to be alone. Right now, I MAY be saying that more from the loneliness I feel every day and from the human desires I spoke of a few paragraphs above. (is anyone still reading this far along anyway?). Still, when I think of myself in the future, I don't see myself alone. I think when you experience a love like Brian and I had - a mutual, respectful, nurturing, physical, encouraging, spiritual, Christ-centered LOVE - you can't help but want part of that again. It is not a desire to replace that love. It is not a desire to redirect loneliness. It is simply a desire to love again.

In the right time...

When my confusion is less and my priorities are better in line with Christ-like thinking...

If God wills it....

TMI???

I also think about what Brian would want for me and the boys. I credit Brian solely on my ability to begin a new outlook on the future for two reason. First of all, we were blessed in that we were able to have these conversations for years due to our circumstances. I know he wanted a new future for me and the boys. He spoke of it even while believing in his own potential future. And in knowing that, the guilt of thinking about it is subdued. Also, Brian rarely looked out on his life and lamented the "could have beens." Rather, he concentrated on the "here and nows" to get to where he wanted to be. He did not allow the fog and cycle of self-pity to enter his daily regimen of a good attitude and a positive outlook. I have no doubt if this situation were reversed, and it was I who had passed on to heaven, he would rejoice for where I was and would pick up the shattered pieces of his broken heart excited about the next adventure in his life. If I were in heaven, isn't that what I would want for him and my boys on earth until they joined me?

(one step forward)

Thanks for listening.

And now for something completely different....

That was for you, Babe. You LOVED it. Hopefully, Sean and John will appreciate it today and see a bit of you in it.

And even more different...

A few pictures because I haven't posted one in a long time...

Grant taking a pic of me doing a cartwheel. That's my game face. If only I could get my abs to be as cut as my calves. I'm working on it.

P.S. Yes, I am geeky enough to make sure I had a 2 to 1 ratio of forwards to backs. I may not keep a very clean house, but when the math doesn't add up, I have a sleepless night.

P.P.S. I would have chosen a different picture of myself, but since the camera went swimming in the lake in July, I have taken only a handful of photos and this is the most recent of me. AND, I wanted you to see that I still do cartwheels despite being 37 AND despite my grief. Sometimes there is no better therapy than a curse word or a cartwheel.

KEEP BELIEVING

I am smiling as I write this

2009-10-17T00:05:00.001-05:00

I am smiling as I write this.

WHY?

For no reason in particular.
No big revelation.
No news.
Nothing, really.

I am smiling as I write this because I am trying to train myself to smile more in my everyday life.

You see, I have been doing a lot of reflecting lately - a lot of "what was I doing this time last year?" And this time last year, we had this news. I spent two hours the other night reading all my posts from October through January - reading the rollercoaster we called LIFE in those three months. Holy SHIT! By the way, I am trying, VERY UNSUCCESSFULLY, not to curse as much, but I figure I have pretty good control over at least not writing it out. Still, HOLY SHIT is all I can think worthy to write when I read the posts from last October til the time Brian died. I didn't even have the emotional stamina to keep reading past the news in January that we faced.

Still, while reading all of those posts - while quietly reflecting lately on what life was like a year ago and 7 months ago today when Brian passed -I couldn't help but notice a pretty familiar theme.

Despite the chemos, the ups and downs, the ever changing symptoms, the heartache, the insurance woes, the waste-of-time doctor visits, the sick kids in the midst of it all - despite ALL of that - I was able to instill some humor in my posts. And it wasn't forced. Forced humor is obvious. It was real. I was actually pretty funny sometimes.

While I know that JOY and HAPPINESS are not one in the same, we had JOY that led to happiness even during that traumatic time. Brian had a way of keeping the air light and enjoyable even while his body slowly faded. And it wasn't forced. Forced joy is obvious. He had true JOY in his heart that exuded from him and was absolutely contagious.

So, I write this with a smile on my face today because for now, I am going to force the smiles at home - a place where the smiles have been few lately. I figure if I write with a smile, then maybe something funny will come out again - maybe I will look back on this post one day and see some happiness in the midst of it all. I figure if I start forcing the smiles now, the joy and the happiness will have to follow suit.

For right now, though, my cheeks just hurt.

KEEP BELIEVING

how things seem to go in my life

2009-10-14T20:59:00.001-05:00

I cannot tell you how often the most simple mundane events in my house evolve into complete disasters.

The kids were sick Monday evening causing them BOTH to miss Cub Scouts causing me to somehow find the time to make up BOTH events so they can earn the right to advance to the next level before the end of the year. Actually, they can still advance, but without the badge, and let's face it, they are in it for the bling.

I had to keep them home from school on Tuesday causing me to cancel the very first Bible Study that I am going to be leading.

Last night, I got my hair done, so grandma babysat for the kids. They did not do their reading and Gavin did not wear his protective garments to bed. Naturally, he wet the bed after batting over .500 for staying dry lately. Of course, I forgot all about the sheets until he reminded me around 30 minutes til bedtime tonight - delaying bedtime.

Today, I was not feeling well. Naturally, the kids had two days of sick energy built up causing them to be loud, obnoxious, rambunctious and half insane causing my headache to reach near splitting levels. And they missed the bus this morning because they were moving at record slow speeds.

This evening, Grant had a coughing spell that led to a gagging fit causing him to vomit a bit and spiral into a complete melt down freaking the heck out. And add to my laundry load. At bed time.

And then after bedtime, listening to Grant continue to cough, I decided to give him some cough medicine. He always requests a drink after ingesting said medicine, so I had him come to the bathroom to drink out of the faucet to save myself a trip to the main level to grab a cup. As I was giving him the cough syrup, he didn't drink it fast enough and it spilled all over his chest and left a splatter pattern on the carpet resembling a gory murder scene. So, I had a complete and total temper tantrum in front of my kids screaming and carrying on about how NOT ONE $&^% THING CAN GO SMOOTHLY AROUND HERE EVEN STUPID *&%$ SIMPLE THINGS. And I threw the towel I was using to clean up and stomped my feet a few times and then calmed down. Only to do it ALL OVER AGAIN when I realized that getting the cough syrup out of the carpet was a more daunting task than removing the paint I spilled on the carpet last week. So now I have an ammonia soaked towel that needs to be washed because I cannot stand the smell of it. Adding to my laundry load. At Bed Time. All of which could have been avoided if I had just gone downstairs for a cup of water to give after the medicine.

And I had to redo bedtime because I had to ask for forgiveness from the kids for the array of 4-letter words I emitted into the already ammonia polluted air in our house. All the while not feeling well.

Honestly, this is how my every day life goes all the time. I couldn't possibly make this up.

Like the time that Gavin came into my room in the middle of the night late this summer, and I had JUST read in my parenting book when your kids come into your room in the middle of the night over 75% of the time, it is due to a bathroom need. Instead of urging him to use the bathroom, I rolled over and invited him in. He fitfully slept the remainder of the night which meant I BARELY slept the remainder of the night. The next morning, he and my sheets were wet. Of course, we had someplace to be that morning, so I had to rush his shower and my shower. I had to wash my sheets and my mattress pad that I had just washed two days prior on the day that I had already separated a very neglected laundry hamper into 7 loads. My mattress pad is too big for my dryer, so I draped it over the deck to dry. When I retrieved it from the deck, it snagged on the railing. I had to spend 30 minutes pulling splinters out of my mattress pad that I had bought about 1 month prior.

It is in times like those that I struggle to find JOY.

And Grant is still coughing.

KEEP BELIEVING

It gets easier. I guess.

2009-10-13T15:19:00.004-05:00

This thing called grief - it gets easier. I guess. I guess the fact that I have successfully gone through every article of Brian's clothing and distributed it to friends or family, kept it for the boys, designated it as an item for the memory quilt, boxed it up for goodwill or simply called it a shoprag means that the pain is easing a bit. I guess, anyway. It is difficult to tell. I guess the fact that I have a pretty "normal" routine with the boys every day is a good sign that our transition to our new circumstances continues to go smoothly.

With the easing of the pain to get through day to day activities comes a strange sensation of not WANTING it to get any easier. I want to feel the absence of Brian. To not feel the absence or to become comfortable with it further evidents the reality of the situation. The surreal nature of life without Brian is wearing off. I'm not entirely okay with that. I think those that were closest with Brian are not entirely okay with that, either.

This thing called grief - it is confusing. It is contradictory. It is illogical. It is necessary, but it is confusing.

But it gets easier. I guess.

I am beginning to hate the word grief as much as I hated the word tumor. It is too vague. It sounds as though it should be more easily described or defined, yet I can't even begin to describe to people in words, actions or emotions what I am experiencing. What I feel, how I react, where my mind takes me - all surprise me one day to the next.

Grief. It is a word that we think encompasses a process or formula, but it is insufficient.

Grief.

Yup, I hate that word.

Even so, it is getting easier.

KEEP BELIEVING

Our special tonight is....

2009-10-07T13:18:00.001-05:00

I love to cook. I really do. And I must say, I'm pretty darn good at it, too. I have developed a pretty good sense over the last 5 or so years for adding the right ingredients to shake up an old favorite, or pairing the right side with a new entree.

Brian was a true pleasure to cook for. He almost always enthusiastically tried my new creations. He was a great and gracious guinea pig. We agreed on most food selections (Except meatloaf. I hate meatloaf and I made it ONCE during our entire marriage. He LOVED meatloaf.). We enjoyed our meals together at home or out.

Since Brian died, and I am left with the world's pickiest eater and the world's heaviest snacker, I don't cook much anymore. It isn't worth the effort, mess and time to listen to someone incessantly complain about every bite, rendering mealtime less enjoyable than gnawing off my own arm.

Still, there was a time in my life just a few months ago, when I could whip up this Sweet and Sour Salmon and this Orange Sesame Shrimp without a recipe after a full day of ~~blogging and googling random crap to prove my incredible intelligence~~ housework and homework assistance. More impressive was that I always had those ingredients on hand, and limes had a purpose in my fridge for adding that little extra touch to something OTHER than my Corona.

Today, my fridge is stocked with plenty of Ranch dressing to enhance the CHICKEN NUGGETS my kids eat on a weekly basis instead of my salad that I NEVER MAKE anymore. Prepackaged cheese sticks have taken the place of fresh bricks of cheese. Danimals have overthrown the homemade dips and sauces. And leftovers in my fridge come from our Chili's, NOT my stove.

I think I sunk to a new low during my last grocery store visit, when my grocery cart looked more like that of the sad, lonely senior citizen than that of a young(ish) mother of two. It was filled with items like these:

And they actually tasted GOOD compared to the crap I have been eating.

KEEP BELIEVING

Don't join the club...

2009-10-03T19:01:00.005-05:00

Honestly, there are many days when I resent you. Yes, you random reader, who have no idea how lucky you have it. Last year when the first graders would bring home their journals from school and your kids would have random writings about unicorns and princesses and fairies and spaceships and dogs, MY first grader was bringing home a journal that said things like this:
------------------------------------

One day, I went to the chrch and I sol my Dad. My Mom was crying. Then some people brot my Dad to the plas wher a caskit gets dug in the grawnd. Then I strted to cry to.

One day my Dad dide wan I was at my ants hous. Then when I got home I do not no what I did whin I got home.

One day my mom wos crying about my Dad. Then after my mom stopt crying we fixt ouwr tramprlen. Then my mom strted to cry agen. Then I sed wat is the mater mom. (in response to this day)

One day I sol my Dad in a cascit. And I felt his head And it was cold. And I sol a pichr of my Dad. And I love him. And I want him bak for evre.

And he drew THIS picture.

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I bet most of your kids don't even know what a casket is or what it looks like. Regardless, I bet your kids are drawing pictures of their dads playing catch or reading books or mowing the lawn or playing golf. No, MY first grader? MINE? He was drawing a picture of his dad in a casket.

And if you were reading last month, you already know what MY kids were doing on an after-school afternoon while yours were eating snacks and doing homework.

So, I sometimes resent you and your normal life. Sometimes I think I just want to be surrounded by others who are like me.

And you know what MY kids did this Autumn Saturday while your kids were playing football, were at the movies or were playing video games? My kids were at camp. Camp Courageous, that is. A camp put on by one of our local hospice agencies for kids who have experienced a significant loss in their lives. And I resent you and your normal Saturday activities while my kids were at a camp for which the entire premise is A CHILD'S TRAGEDY.

I can only hope that my children took comfort in realizing they are not the only children living without a parent. I can only pray that they felt good knowing that their "normal" is the same "normal" many other kids get. Cuz, me? I didn't feel any better about it. I didn't feel any better looking around the room knowing these kids have the same crap to deal with as mine. In fact, the slightly glued together pieces of my broken heart fell apart all over today as I watched two six-year-old girls hold tattered teddies in one hand and grab each others wrists with the other hand delighting that "HER DADDY IS A GUARDIAN ANGEL TOO. WE ARE SO LUCKY!" I can only pray that made Grant feel a bit better to have those girls in his group. Because it didn't make me feel one ounce better.

It made me feel worse.

Then, I went to support a friend in a SHARE WALK she organizes - an event to remember babies lost in miscarriage, stillbirth, or early infant death. Babies who never had a chance to live life let alone experience a loss. I was surrounded by people grieving the loss of a life that was barely, if at all, lived.

When I went to pick up the kids, I found myself sharing "end-of-life, cancer, where do we go from here" stories with a sad, slightly anxious single dad who is left to raise a 6 year old daughter.

As I was resenting you, and wishing I could surround myself with others like me, I looked around the room at 70 kids and many more adults picking them up. I realized, I WAS surrounded by others like me. Others who also don't WANT their kids to be a part of this camp. Other single moms and dads left behind in the wake of tragedy and illness. Other kids just like mine living without moms and dads or aunts, uncles, grandmas and grandpas who were doing the parenting anyway. On the street, I would not have recognized that I was surrounded by those like me. It was only through Camp Courageous and the Sharewalk that I saw our common bonds called grief, loss, anxiety, loneliness, despair, sorrow and fear.

I also realized that as I resent you and your "normal" life and as I wish I could surround myself with others like me, I REALLY DON'T WANT to surround myself with others like me. I WANT you to have your "normal." I don't want others to be in my club. I don't want other kids in my kids' club. That doesn't help anything.

I will stop resenting you because the last thing I want is for you to walk in these shoes.

KEEP BELIEVING