Living Strong

Loss

2015-05-04T12:57:00.003-07:00

In this journey life has brought to me, I have experienced my fair share of loss. And in that journey I have learned that each person handles loss differently and that each loss is different - each person who experiences a loss handles their own situations differently. It's why, for the most part, when someone does experience a loss, I let them know they are not alone and that I am here to listen when they are ready. Not everyone shares the same timeframe and not everyone wants to talk about the wide range of emotions that seem to be filtering through them at that that time.

With that said, I haven't experienced certain kinds of losses, and it is in those times that all I can do is say, "I'm sorry" and pray that with time comes healing. When my good friend "A" went through two miscarriages I was again at a loss of what to say. I knew that her and her husband were hurting, but I had no idea the depth or the emotional repercussions that it may or may not have on them later down the road. All I could say was "I'm sorry for your loss" and pray that those few words would bring them comfort.

I know now - at that time - all those words could do was bring them a sense of comfort that they were loved and not going through it alone.

Back in April, the MusicMan and I learned we were expecting. It was something we were trying for ever since I finished the Chicago Marathon. I had everything planned down to how I would tell my MusicMan, our parents, siblings and Ethan that a new edition to the family was on the way. My heart raced when we got those two little pink lines on the first test. We even waited to take another test about a week later to make sure we didn't get a fluke test and again we were greeted with two little pink lines. It took Ethan about one night's sleep to sink into the news that he would be having a younger brother or sister, but the grin on his face told us everything.

He was to the moon and back excited and we were excited for him. He brought home drawings of what he thought the baby would look like and made little paper toys to share with the baby when it came. Muppet's reaction was one of the sweetest, most genuine emotions that I've ever seen. It showed me that not only would he be an amazing older brother, but the almost 9 and half year age difference wouldn't make a bit of difference. He would be the perfect mix of protective older brother who was gentle in nature and yet playful in his heart with a touch of sage in his faith and perspective on life.

However, instead of sharing little photos of a sonogram and explaining that this "little dot" in a photo was his sibling in Mommy's tummy; we now have to explain that there was no more baby in Mommy's tummy. I started experiencing some complications and the MusicMan and I went to the doctor the next day, only to find that with each passing hour, my complications got entirely more complicated.

From the time things started till the end - while going through it - it seemed as though time stood still; however it was all very quick in the grande scheme of things. As quickly as life was created; it was gone. The MusicMan and I cried, prayed and leaned on each other for support. We both told each other we were sorry and then each explained to the other that it wasn't their fault through the tears. We told each other over a thousand times we loved each other and hugged each other every chance we got. We heId each other when we saw the other was starting to break down. I couldn't have asked for a better partner during all of this. It was exactly what I needed and I pray that I was just as there for him emotionally as he was for me.

We went back into our Doctor's office this past Monday and it was confirmed that the baby was gone and I had miscarried. Being back in the doctor's office, even knowing in our hearts that our baby was gone, didn't make it any easier to see blank space where there was once a baby, it was as if there was never a baby there to begin with. My body had gotten rid of everything and was already healing.

The MusicMan and I have put faith that being healthy and physically fit has helped in the process of healing and why everything happened so quickly considering everything I had read in baby forums. We are also praying that while this pregnancy didn't go as we had planned that God, the Universe, whatever you put your faith in, has a path and plan for another child and that I am able to carry that child to term.

Until then, life has given me a journey. A path where I can relate to when I hear that someone else has lost a child. Our baby only developed to 6 weeks and while we will never know why we lost this pregnancy, I have put my faith that there was a reason we went through this. Maybe so we can help other couples who go through the same thing or to deepen our own relationship; we will never know. However; nothing happens out of happenstance - that is something that I have fully believed for most of my life and still do. I choose to take this and learn, love and strengthen who I am through this. I choose to let this be journey that I will fully experience and embrace all the emotions that go with it so that when someone I know and love has it happen to them, I will be able understand the wide range of emotions that goes with losing a baby. Guilt. Sadness. Fear. And deep sadness for all the daydreams you had for that child. I will be able to hug them and tell them "I'm sorry for your loss - time will heal and help and I will be here to love and support you."

2014 Wrap-Up

2014-12-31T14:31:00.000-08:00

Wait...what? 2014 is almost over? Where did the time go? For the most part I didn’t blog at all this year. Little did I know that marathon training was almost a full time (ok, more like part time) job. I put allot of little things on hold while I worked on my own personal goals this year. For that, I’m sorry for those who came to read and found nothing. But I’m not that sorry, because I learned so much about myself and have so many wonderful memories from this year.

So lets wrap up the year with one really long blog post. :)

In February I ran my first ever 15k. I was scared, nervous, and completely apprehensive. But I finished! Never stopped and it felt amazing to be considered a long distance runner, considering that my running average from years past was 150 miles and most of my runs never really went over 3-4 miles. But I didn’t stop there. A month later I completed a half-marathon, which in turn lead me to want to do a full marathon. Ergo training started shortly after that and went through the summer.

Ethan after riding Space Mountain!

I did take a small break from running during the summer to spend time with our family, celebrate Ethan's 8th birthday and take a family-moon to Disney World and Universal Studios in Florida. While I’ve taken Ethan here before, it was so very special to see Ethan overcome his fears of “big-boy roller coasters” and share that experience with the MusicMan. Those two are like two little peas in a pod at times - it warms my heart how much they love and care for each other.

Shortly after we came back, the MusicMan started the adoption process of Ethan. This is something he and I had talked about since he proposed and it meant allot to him to adopt Ethan. He wanted Ethan to know that no matter what he will always be there for him and that he cares for him as if Ethan is of his own flesh and blood. Ethan didn’t fully understand at first why he was being adopted, because in his mind when the MusicMan and I got married, he automatically became “daddy J”.

It’s hard to explain to a child that a step-parent has no legal rights when it comes to step-children and we wanted to make sure that Ethan was always taken care of if anything were to ever happen to me. But we explained it the best way we could and Ethan was excited to now have the longest name ever known to man since we hyphenated his name. The adoption was completed the Monday before Thanksgiving...just one more thing we were thankful for this year.

I ran the names of 63 cancer fighters, survivors
& fallen warriors through the streets of Chicago.

In October, I ran the Chicago Marathon. That was one of the most amazing experiences and one that I will always remember. The race was held on the same day as the 6 year anniversary of Christopher’s passing and I woke up that morning with so many butterflies in my stomach I wasn’t sure if I could finish before I had even started. As I waited for the race to start I questioned if I should have picked this race and run on a day with so much meaning; yes in good ole “d” fashion I began to over think things. There were times I felt weak and in those times I thought back to 6 years ago when I sat at my kitchen table, to the day that life changed - I had changed. I knew that I was no longer that woman who sat at that table feeling mad at the world and sad for what life had brought her. I was the woman who could look at the beauty that life now put in front of me and see the blessings that this world has to offer. Christopher is no longer in pain and he is surrounded by light and love. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this new life with the MusicMan by my side. His love and understanding surpasses anything I could have asked for and he truly is a blessing in all of our lives. I found strength when I thought I had none. I have overcome so much fear that there is no place for it to hide in my head. At one point while I ran I cried. For the strength I found in myself was so overwhelming. Not to mention that the MusicMan, Ethan and the MusicMan’s brother’s family were there about every 4-5 miles cheering me on. I hope everyone out there that reads this post has a support system as great as the one I do.

While we were in Chicago and over the Thanksgiving break I was able to spend some time with some of my nieces and nephews that I don’t always get to see. I never truly understood the joy that it is to have those little kiddos in my life until this year. To watch and see children grow and learn is an amazing thing. The joy that comes over their faces when they see you, point, say your name and give you a hug. It’s like watching your own child grow; only the leaps and bounds are greater because you don’t get to see them every day; but with each time you do see them you understand and appreciate even more the love that comes from family.

I also was able, shortly after the marathon, to donate over a foot of hair to Locks of Love. This was my third donation and each time it's an emotional one, but this one was ever so more. Knowing that the hair I donated had been through so much this year with training, it was as if I was passing along a little strength to those who will receive that gift.

This year has been such a blessed year for our family and I hope that this year found your family well too.

Pax

Defy..

2014-09-28T18:14:00.000-07:00

As I sit here trying to figure what and how to write what I want to express, I realize it's been awhile since I last wrote. Maybe too long. However, as the age-old proverb goes - time flies. Especially when you are training for your first marathon during your first year of marriage. Crazy. Crazy, is good word.

I took a small challenge of running a 15k (9.3 miles) and pushed that into half-marathon to crossing that finish line with what the next training plan would be...a full marathon. Yes, I literally crossed the finished line, hugged my MusicMan and told him then and there before my legs even stopped; I was doing a full marathon.

I picked the Chicago Marathon for several reasons. The course is flat. From what I have read the crowed is full of amazing energy and you should try to run your first marathon in a different city to help motivate you to do the training. However, with all of that, I picked it for something else. This race will be held on October 12th. For anyone that has followed this blog, October 12th is when Christopher left this mortal plane. Six years after his passing - I am remarried and running a marathon.

Someone recently asked me if I had a spirit animal what would it be? I grinned. Let out a small sigh. "Phoenix," is what I answered. I've always thought of myself as this mythical bird that was engulfed into a fiery abyss of emotions, not knowing what end was up, down and sideways or feeling completely out of control in this new normal life.

Yet out of this fire, I was reborn from the ashes. I am stronger. Physically. Mentally. My own will shocks me at times. The candy coated "d" isn't so sickly sweet and fear doesn't really have a home in my mind anymore. Don't get me wrong - you put a snake, weird bug and/or perfectly placed spider web in my face - you will see the finest "kung-fu-get-out-of-my-way" moves you've ever seen. But for the most part fear doesn't have a place in my heart.

This past week I went for a run and at mile 3 I tripped on the sidewalk and fell. I got up, dusted myself off, saw my skinned knee and shin, the blood coming from it and I just kept going. I had two more miles and this wasn't going to stop me. I've had worse in my life and still managed to push through it. This. THIS was nothing. At mile 4.75 I started to pick up speed and sprint to the end for a strong finish. With just .10 of a mile to go I fell again. This time with enough force that my sun glasses were 3 feet from where I landed, I rolled into the middle of the street. My pride was wounded and had way more scrapes and scratches down my back, elbows, and knees. Both knees are bruised and I have a rather large bruise on one hand and hip where I hit the ground with full force. I limped back to the house.

My MusicMan's soft, yet gentle "oh baby...." with a certain level of fear in his eyes told me I looked just like I felt. He spent part of the evening cleaning all the little scrapes and cuts making sure all the dirt was out of my skin and everything would heal in time for my marathon.

We prayed before we went to sleep that I would heal and that this would not get me down since running might be a challenge these next few days. I went to bed for the first time in a long time with a sense of fear. Had I just ruined my chances for this marathon? Was I going to heal and be ok to ask my body to run 26.2 miles on two knees that feel like they went 10 rounds with a baseball bat? It broke my heart that for the first time in a long time I was afraid and letting fear dwell in my mind. A mind that I spent years forcing out all the little things that scared me and kept me from moving forward. Yet, here it was. It not only made itself home, but was going to sleep in my head.

I spent most of this weekend trying to be positive and fill my thoughts with "no fear lives here." I spent a great deal of time today finding new music to run to that speaks to the "no fear" concept. While surfing the internet for new music I ran across a shirt that I've thought many times of buying but always told myself, "no, you have enough workout clothes". It's a yellow shirt that says "Defy Fear". Not only is this a LiveStrong shirt but I love the message. We should all defy the fear that lives inside of us.

While internet window shopping and looking at this shirt (again), my itunes landed Michelle Chamuel's version of "True Colors." Tears fell.

I realized I am 2 weeks away from running my first marathon. I am 2 weeks from crossing six years that Christopher left this mortal plane. I am 3 weeks from my one year wedding anniversary with my MusicMan. This marathon is nothing compared to where I was six years ago. Sitting across my kitchen table not knowing what would come next and how I would do it.

I've spent several of my early mornings before my long runs looking at that place at my kitchen table where life changed and wishing I could sit across from that woman and take her hand and let her know that she would be happy again. She will find out how life moves forward. It won't be easy, but the journey of self discovery will be an amazing one. I wish I could look into that "d's" eyes and tell her that the darkness she feels will be replaced with light and that her aura will shine with all the colors of the rainbow again. I know that the "d" that sat at that table wouldn't listen to me back then, but sometimes I wish I could have comforted her.

And yet as I thought about how I wish I could comfort that "d" from six years ago - I know the "d" 2 weeks from now would want to sit across from this computer and tell me that this moment that makes you feel so small right now will give you the strength you need to cross that finish line. That my rainbow aura will shine through and all those moments when you thought you couldn't go farther was just that fear that I allowed to live back inside my head for the last few days.

See fear, it's a liar. One big fat liar that will take up residence in the darkest parts of our thoughts and make itself home. It will grab our dreams and taunt them. Tarnish the things we took for granted. Fear is our own worst enemy. Tonight I choose to "Defy Fear." I choose to take this fall, brush off my knees and keep running. I will finish. I will run. I will defy the one thing that scares me right now. I am the one in charge. I am the only one that can show my true colors and the growth that I have made over the last six years. I will overcome this, because in the end I will have two amazing boys at the end of this race waiting for me. Two amazing people who have supported me this last year in a way that I never thought possible. Sometimes in the end - love is all you need. Love and faith in yourself to always.... you got it.... Defy Fear.

The Way I Tend To Be

2014-03-16T14:10:00.000-07:00

For all intended purposes, I am a realist with optimistic tendencies that tends to look at all sides of a situation before I will choose my happy-coated pragmatic version of reality. Follow that? Some people would basicly say that I "over think" things and just plain hope for the best, but mentally make back-up plans for when it all hits the fan (i.e. the worst)?

Call it being a free-spirited artist with CPAs for parents (and one of those parents being retired army). You see the picture starting to form? I'm a planner who wants to take her time, but still sticking to her schedule. Yeah, as I type this the formation of "oxymoron" is starting to develop in my head.

I tend to be hard on myself (but who isn't?). I make goals (and who doesn't?). Sometimes I finish those goals; sometimes I don't (we've all been there and done that). Recently, I made a goal for myself (with peer pressure from my neighbors) to run a 15k. First, let me say before I signed up I had never run 9 miles. The closest I came was 7 and not only did I hurt the next day (and wish I hadn't) but it had also been almost a year since. So why had I never challenged myself to this feat (or ever ran more than that 7)? Well, I tend to do things that I know I can do with my eyes closed. You know, the stuff you can do in your sleep without thinking about it. The easy stuff.

Call it being a single parent for the last few years. Time for myself is rare and squeezing in a run or work out here and there is tough. But, I knew I could rock out my 3-milers in 30 minutes with my eyes closed, be done and back to single mommy duties. It was easy. Piece of cake.

So this challenge came up. I pushed it off. And pushed it off. Thought about it for a little while. Pushed it off. Told myself I could do it. Then pushed it off. (See a pattern?) Then one day, while on my lunch hour, I signed up. The pragmatic side of me started planing how I would train for this. The optimistic side started telling my doubts in their cheerful little voices that I can always walk if I get tired... tee-hee-hee. Groan... was the sound from the other side of mental fence that tried to drown out everything. I went to sleep that night thinking, "what in the world did I just do...?"

Skip ahead to a month ago. I ran that 15k in the best time I had ever run in on a training run. I never stopped. I was so focused. It was like that random "army" gene from my dad kicked in and all I was focused on was finishing. Ignoring the cold. The pain and all the other distractions my mind tried to play on me while I was out there.

And somewhere in all of this... I signed up for a half marathon... Yeah... half of a marathon (insert half crazy jokes here). The way I looked at it was I had trained for almost 10 miles, what was another 3? Right? Makes sense to me. And since then, the pragmatic side of me started planing how I would train for this. The optimistic side started telling my doubts in their cheerful little voices that I can always walk if I get tired... tee-hee-hee. Groan... was the sound from the other side of mental fence that tried to drown out everything. I went to sleep that night thinking, "what the world did I just do...?"

Just like the way I was on the 15k. The way I tend to be when a challenge arises.

In one of my little freakout "what did I get myself into" moments I also had a moment of clarity. In an email to the MusicMan I came clean with the fact that this run "scares me". How was I to do this?

His response....

"At the beginning of the year you had never ran 9 miles. And I'm proud of the growth you have made."

Um... Point... Taken.... and handed to me on a plate with a side of humbled clarity.

I started to tear up at work, because he was right. His short, yet poignant email, the truth in all of this shined out. This whole thing - this whole running thing - has never been about how far I could run. It's been about spiritual and emotional growth. It's about the person I am on the inside growing with the strength that resides in the deepest parts of my soul that pushes me to always better myself. It doesn't matter how far you run if you forget how to stand on your own two feet.

This for me has been a challenge, but not just physical nature. I've discovered where I stashed my resilience and hid my fears. Yet with each run comes a growth that takes hold those hidden fears and brings them to the surface where at times I cry them out on runs and leave them there on the pavement. I don't need them anymore. I'm not afraid of them anymore and they don't need to "run" my life because I am the one in control of the "run", the distance, speed... you get all the running metaphors.

Truth is, this has taught me so much about myself and the way I tend(ed) to be. And while the way we all tend to be is what makes up who we are - there are things that we can always focus on and grow from. As individuals personal growth should always be a focus in our lives. Challenging the way we always tend to be. It's never too late to change something; your situation, your mental outlook, maybe even your path in life. Dreams aren't meant to only dance through at night; they should be always be considered potential and goals. We should never be afraid of them or attaining them. We should never let the way we tend to be get in our way.

Where to begin?

2014-01-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

I think I've started this post about a dozen or so times; each start with something different. First, it was about the wedding. Then it was a year long wrap up since I haven't blogged in awhile. Then it was what I learned over the year about myself and this journey. Everything was abandoned due to that I just don't know where to start. I start to write about one part of life and I realize that a greater lesson was learned in another aspect of my life. So where do I start?

This year was crazy with planning the wedding and trying to combine two households, but we got it done (sorta... the house is a work in progress) and the wedding was amazing. I'm so very blessed to have a man in my life who not only respects the journey Ethan and I have been on, but loves us for that journey. He respects the memory of Christopher so much that I have to say if your journey is similar to mine and you are currently dating someone who doesn't respect it; then you should look elsewhere. Your journey is what makes you who you are. It's where most of your strength comes from. Your fears. And sometimes self-doubt. To love you is to love all the parts of you that brought "you" into their lives. Period. No exceptions.

During our wedding the MusicMan and I wrote our vows to each other and to Ethan. My heart soared listening to him promise to Ethan that he would never replace the spot in his heart where his Dad sits, but to pick up where he left off and nurture him into the wonderful man we all know Ethan will grow to be. Let me say - there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

The MusicMan also vowed to me to always help me see in myself what he sees everyday. And that, my friends, is an amazing testament to love. To work each day to ensure that the person your with always sees themselves in the same light you hold them in your heart. It's work, but work that should come with an ebb and flow that pours out from your soul with an ease that takes your breath away. I've been blessed to have this twice in my life.

I learned to love life so fully that at times when I run I think back to all I have done over this year and I'm brought to tears of joy. The MusicMan and I traveled to Aspen to see a friend of his get married around Labor Day. We realized this was our "first real adventure together"; our first trip where neither of us had been. It was new. Exciting. Beautiful. We went for a hike. Got caught in the rain. Ordered Pizza and local beer. We laughed about the cute things Ethan does. Talked about how we should come back. Go skiing. And most importantly...take more adventures! I learned that it was ok to make plans and love life to the fullest.

I spent so much time living one day at time (sometimes one minute at a time) that I forgot what it meant to "plan" something fun and exciting and know that it will happen. It's a feeling I haven't felt in years and I will admit that I reveled in it. Like a lot.

I've watched my little Muppet grow and flourish with each day that passed closer to the wedding. Ethan loves having two Daddies. He finds himself blessed to have/had both these men in his life and to this day I'm still learning from my Muppet. His perspective is eye-opening and at times I feel like he's more in tune with his surroundings than I am. I love that he has "guy" time with the MusicMan. They talk about gross boy stuff (like rat bones in owl pellets... don't ask) and they go out and throw the ball around when the weather is nice. Yes these are all things I did (well I may have toned down the gross conversations). But I've played the part of Mum and Dad and while there will still be times that I need to play both parts, Ethan has a male role model to look upon when he feels like he just can't talk to his mom about "guy stuff".

Laughter in life for me has grown threefold. I remember at one point I didn't find the show "The Family Guy" funny any more and my grief therapist response was "oh, wow. you are depressed." But over the years I learned to laugh at myself, life and the crazy (sometimes interesting) things we can all get ourselves into. The MusicMan and I are the king and queen of one-liner emails that crack us both up (he will laugh just reading this). Life can be funny and we must all learn to laugh at ourselves sometimes.

So with everything I learned in 2013 what does all this mean for 2014? Well I promise to be a better blogger and write more since the wedding is over. I might even get the MusicMan to write a post or two. I've asked him to write about the other side of the journey. What it's like dating someone who has lost a spouse. His spirit and support were and are so inspiring that I think it would be nice to hear from him on his views. As people who grieve we sometimes get carried away in our own hurt that we forget to look around us at the pain of others. Again I think his perspective would be interesting for people to read.

I've made some personal goals for 2014 on the running front and you can read them on my other blog - I won't bore people with all my fitness goals. The MusicMan and I have worked on some new adventures that will happen in 2014. One being a FamilyMoon, a wedding for his cousin, more little weekend trips here and there and I hope we can document it all and share with everyone how a journey like this can turn into something completely beautiful. :)

Pax to you all and to your New Year!

The Stars

2013-10-12T12:34:00.000-07:00

Last night while I walked Max (the dog) I started to compose in my head this blog post. It started as a letter to Christopher which then morphed into how I have two great loves in my life. Then turned into how we are really a family of four rather than the three (MusicMan, Ethan, me and Christopher). I thought being that it’s a week before the wedding what is the right thing to write about.

As I let my thoughts dance through what is right and what does my heart tell me to do, I felt the cool air on my face and I gazed up into the stars. I pondered if what I was looking at was Venus or Jupiter. I found myself grinning while the decision of “I could pull my phone out and use that fancy App to figure out the whole Venus vs Jupiter thing, but really, it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter” because these stars have seen everything. Jupiter, Venus, Mars, they were all there in the heavens when Christopher and I were married, they were there when he left this mortal plane and they will be there when the MusicMan and I say “we do” in one week. These stars have seen it all. The happiness, the sorrow and the glimmer of hope we all wish upon them.

I grinned because they have seen me run through the pain (literally and metaphorically). They have seen the tears. Heard the laugher that was silent for so long. And they will be there for years to come.

This has been a journey. At times it feels like it’s been longer than it has, and other times shorter. Today it has been 5 years since Christopher left this world. And in those 5 years I have done so much. So much more than I ever thought possible.

Everyone at some point in life has gone through something where they felt like life, God, the universe, cancer or something has been their enemy. An archnemesis determined to pull them down and into a cage with no way out. It’s easy to let our fear and doubts take control of our thoughts and let them cut at us until we bleed. And sometimes that needs to happen so that we will be embraced in total darkness so that when we start to see the faint light of hope glow it can burn brighter that we ever thought possible.

Sometimes you have to take that fear and doubt and let them know you won’t fall for their lies anymore. You have to understand that their shadow will always live with you, but that you choose to focus on the light and keep that shadow behind you. It will still be a part of where you have been and what you have been through. You just choose not to have it in front of you, always between you and your goals or your happiness.

I went through this. Under the very stars I was gazing upon last night, at some point, I discovered I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. I am mentally and physically stronger than I have ever been. I fell. I screamed. I picked myself up and fell some more. But each time I picked myself up and focused on how to stand on my own two feet. And while not always easy, I had the love and support of my friends and family when I needed it the most.

It wasn’t easy and at times when I think about it, I am in awe of myself.

I was blessed to have Christopher in my life. He was a kind loving man that would run to the ends of world for me and Ethan. I couldn’t have asked anyone to love me anymore than he did. And yet, next week I will marry a man whose love is equally as strong as Christopher’s has been. I have been blessed to have both these great men in my life. There aren’t many people who can say that they have been love(d) so equally and that both men were brought into their life with such great meaning.

This has been a journey. One that makes an amazing love story on so many levels. One that shows strength and perseverance. A story that movies have tried to copy, but only God under his stars could write.

Today, I am happy. I am in love. I am strong. I took control of my fears and I am so glad I did. I’ve learned how to take what I’ve learned over this journey to help others and it has made me see that my journey wasn’t just for me.

Today, under these very stars I am blesses to have Christopher and the MusicMan.

Family

2013-05-01T18:49:00.000-07:00

Anyone that reads this blog knows that for me, running is therapeutic. It's time to myself and my thoughts. It's the time that I let go of the daily, weekly or monthly stresses and leave them on the side of the road. It's time that I also spend talking to God. Reflecting on things that have happened and things that I’m mentally preparing for that are coming up. It’s time where my mind is free to wonder through my daydreams, sort through the nightmares of fears and contemplate, on top of everything else, how far I’ve come. And well, lets just say I run a whole LOT more than I used too. Like 6-10 miles more a weekend lot. Nutshell… I spend allot of time reflecting and talking to God.

Recently, certain topics have dwelled and lingered in my thoughts. The concepts weren't new by any stretch of the imagination. They are more of a deeper reflection on older thoughts, concepts and the realization that, yes, distant prayers are sometimes answered when we least expect them to be.

Now first, before I dive right in, let me say this is a rather hard topic for me to write about and express in a way that does it justice. It’s a topic close to my heart. It's the concept of family.

Christopher had a great phrase for our family dynamic that he used to say all the time. "Family is not defined by blood, but by love." He believed that just because you were born into a family didn’t automatically make you family. For you to feel like you are a part of a family you need to feel love.

So right now some of you are nodding your heads in agreement and completely understanding where this statement comes from. Perhaps you can possibly relate to it in one form or fashion on your own personal levels. And well, some of you won't. It will be bitter to your thoughts and your mind has already come up with half a dozen rebuttals. Either way is ok because each person’s personal experience is different and each feeling is unique to you.

However, I beleive this statement is so powerful that I have written down in a journal for Ethan for when he gets older. Why? Because it's a testament to the journey our lives have been on.

When I was little I had one set of grandparents I really got to know in life. My Mum's Mum and Dad (aka, my Gran and Papa). They were the world to me and it broke my heart when they both passed, but I have always known that I was blessed because I got to share my life with them for a while. My dad's parents were a different story.

My Dad's Dad passed away shortly after I was born and his Mom when I was in middle school (if memory serves me correct). And there are days while I sit at my desk pondering out my office window what it would have been like to really know them other than photos. See, my Dad's Dad did what I do for a living (in a roundabout way) and that is fascinating to me. What I wouldn't give to sit and talk to him about how life in our fields has changed so dramatically and share with him what I work on now. But that is a conversation that will have to wait for years to come when it's my time to leave this mortal plane. But it does cross my mind from time to time.

Due to my own childhood experiences with my own grandparents, I often times reflect on Ethan's experience. He has my parents who will (should) be with him for many years to come and his bond with them is a strong and beautiful one. It reminds me allot of my relationship with my Gran and Papa. Christopher's mom left this mortal plane years ago before Ethan was born and his dad… well, he's not in Ethan's life and I'm ok with that. In fact, to set the record straight, I asked for it for my own personal reasons. Period. End of story. And that's all I have to say about that.

So I always thought that Ethan's life with his grandparents would almost mirror that of my own - only knowing one set of people as his grandparents. That is until the MusicMan. I don't think I would/could ever be able to put into words the amount of love and acceptance that his family brings into our lives. They truly love Ethan for him and the funny little ways he expresses himself. They invite us over and watch him from time-to-time so they can get to know him. They go to school plays and make it when they can to his sports games. In their eyes, Ethan is their grandchild. He's not a step-"insert name" he's one of theirs, he/we are family and that is rare.

But it doesn't stop with just them. The MusicMan's brothers, sister and extended family are the same way. When they come for a visit and Ethan and I walk through the door they yell out Ethan’s name and give him a big hug and tell him that they couldn't wait to see him. It truly is magical to watch his little face light up when this happens. It's even more heartwarming when he tries so hard to remember all their names in the car before we get there (the MusicMan has a way bigger family than I do). Ethan loves them all in a way that I never thought possible for his life and they love him equally just the same. He doesn’t question how they fit into his life as family and neither do they.

Ethan will get to experience something I never had. Two sets of grandparents.

He will get to understand the statement Christopher fell back on years before Ethan was born to explain his own relationship with his parents. "Family his not defined by blood, but by love."

It's sad to say that just because you are born into a family doesn't always mean that you feel the love and support of what family can bring to you. It's sad to say, and painful to experience if you are the one that goes through it; but we have all seen it or heard a story of someone who has had to go through it.

Then there are those families out there that love those brought into their lives with no questions asked; their hearts overflow with so much joy that you bring into their lives. They support you. They cherish what you bring into their lives and accept you as their own family even though you might never have been born into it. It's an amazing set of people who can do that. My parents did it with Christopher. The MusicMan's family does it with Ethan and I. It's an amazing feeling; to be loved by people who accept you as their own family. It's a blessing in my life and in Ethan's.

Years down the road I think this will be an amazing lesson for Ethan. It won't be one that I have to explain or teach to him. It will be one that is built on a thick foundation of love and will grow with each passing day. Ethan is blessed to have all the people that call him family in his life from all sides of mine, Christopher’s and now the MusicMan’s family.

Ethan will get something I didn’t have, two sets of grandparents to look up to for love, strength and support. Two sets of people who get to watch him grow into the amazing man I know in my heart he will be. It's a prayer I often lifted up to God to answer and felt as if this was one prayer that he just wasn't going to answer. And yet, years later he has, not in the way I expected or would have asked for… but he answered it. He brought family together through love.

#love #balance #blessed

2013-03-01T10:07:00.000-08:00

It's been awhile since I last wrote and what can I say? Planning a wedding when you are younger and don't have a child (or a job) makes for a much smoother planning process. :) However, with that said, it warms my heart to share all the little details with my Muppet and hear him exclaim with such joy in his heart that he "can't wait" for the MusicMan to be his dad and live here.

I won't lie I was worried how the whole "this will be your other daddy" conversation would go with Muppet. But again, my little (wiser than his years) man put things in a whole new perspective. One day after picking him up from his after school care we started in our routines of sharing what was each of our favorite parts of the day and anything that might have happened that we might need a hug for. No, I don't share with Ethan really bad things, but I do share when the Internet goes down at work or Mommy forgot to save her work and had to start a project over. I want him to know that we all make mistakes and have bad days - it's a part of life.

However, this day after our little conversation the car went quiet for a moment. I glanced up in the rear view mirror just long enough to see him put his tiny hand to his chin, gazing out the car window. I glanced back to the road and the mental image of The Thinker popped instantly into my thoughts. Then suddenly from the back seat the silence was broken and I heard, "Mommy, you know God blessed me twice?"

"Twice? How so?" I wandered quickly through my thoughts trying to anticipate his response and what mine would be in turn.

"I have two daddies. God gave me two daddies. One in the sky and one on the earth." (Insert happy loving sigh as he looked back out the car window.)

I didn't know what to say. All my energy was being focused on trying to hold the tears back and hide my reaction behind my sunglasses. Here was my little Muppet who is now almost as tall as I am and has the most amazing sense of perspective, love and positive outlook on life (more than I could personally hope to have in all my lifetime). I've come to realize that Ethan is more than a gift from God, he is sign and tool of God's grace and goodness. Ethan's life could have turned out completely different, but Ethan himself chooses a path of light and love. And does it with such ease and grace.

He's the kid who will always play with other kids that have bullied him in the past. Whenever I ask him why he still plays with these boys who have hurt his feelings he just looks up at me with those loving little eyes and tells me "Mommy, they are my friends. They are good people, they just make bad choices and I just don't play with them when they make bad choices."

(Blink. Blink. Blink.)

Yes... That is my Muppet. He's a kind and loving soul that is a sage among men eight times his years. He teaches me daily and I admire the little man he is and will grow to be.

So here we were again - he was teaching me another valuable lesson. He knew (and knows) that the MusicMan wasn't replacing Christopher as his dad, only picking up where he left off. He sees our MusicMan as a blessing that while some kids only get one father, Ethan has two that he loves greatly. And knows in his heart that the both of them love him equally as well.

Ethan, in his own way, with only the few little words he spoke, showed me that love is boundless no matter what. That your heart is an endless plain of hope that grows with whatever situation life brings to you. With that comes a great balance that life, God, the universe (whatever you put your faith into) brings into everything you hold dear. Everything in live is a blessing, it's up to us to take time and let love and balance show us how blessed in this life we really are.

Life, is in a way, a trifecta of #love, #balance and #blessings. My Muppet taught me that. You can claim one, both or all three. However, when you have all three life presents itself in a whole new light. One where the world is open to your heart and you to it's. One that brings you peace in the life that you may have never understood.

Life can bring you many things that pull us down. Just the average workday can pull you down. But when you stop. Reflect. Enjoy everything in life. Things change. You're perspective changes. Ethan is blessed because he will soon have two dads. He knows that in his heart and his mind. I am blessed to have a child wiser than his own mommy at times to help enlighten me to things I might have overlooked and stressed one gray hair too many over. We are both blessed to have a man in our lives that makes us feel so very special no matter what is going on in either of our lives. He's there for us when we need him the most. And so our lives are filled with #love, #balance and #blessings.

One Step Closer

2012-12-18T10:34:00.002-08:00

It was Friday around 3pm when the world stood still. The trees rustled with leaves of yellow and orange hues against their dark trunks. For that brief moment in time there were only two people who existed standing next to each other on a cool, damp afternoon. The sounds of the day were muted with only the sounds of one man and his beating heart. Images flashed before my eyes like I was reliving all that I had gone through through the last few years.

In an instant I was brought to the day that I had convinced myself that I would never be in another relationship; that the idea of being a single-mom for the rest of my life was not only God's plan, but a plan that I could live with. How was I ever going to love when my life was filled with so much fear and loss? How was I going to share my life with someone when my heart had built a wall to protect not only myself, but the love I shared with someone else? The person who was my whole world, my friend, my everything. I was afraid to ever love and open myself up to anyone again because I was afraid of being hurt by something so out of my control. Little did I know, that understand why I closed myself off was just one step closer to unlocking all the pain and really listening to what God's (the universe, whatever it is you put your faith into) plan for me was.

It was a Saturday that I went on a run that changed my life. God shut down all the outside noise of my iPod so that he and I could talk. And I could really listen. My mind was cleared of all that stood in front of me and I was left with just the words and signs that God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in put in front of me that morning. I finished that run and fought back tears that I not only finished a 5k (my first ever), but there was a release that happened when I crossed that finish line. Fear started to leave and it was filled slowly with strength and reaffirmation of my faith. My eyes were open for the first time in a long time and the sounds that I forced myself not to hear started to make a faint and distant sound. I was one step closer to releasing all the misconceptions that I forced myself to believe in.

On a vacation trip with my family I woke up one morning and started to realize how much someone meant in my life. When I thought about him I wanted to text him and see how his day was going, but I was still so full of doubt. Doubt in letting myself go somewhere I didn't think I could ever come back from. Doubt over the idea that my heart may fall and break into a million pieces all over again. Maybe it was better to just keep myself walled up on the inside. Safe from all that could possibly happen. Little did I know that I was one step closer to letting everything go.

On a January afternoon I sat at my computer and let my fingers run across a keyboard trying to explain to the world how I was with a man I had nicknamed "The MusicMan". I was again flooded with the idea of fear. How people would react? I was scared that some might find it disrespectful and others would be too overjoyed. As my fingers danced over letters and my eyes darted with each word, my mind processed it all and I was filled with a sense of joy, happiness and peace. I was writing about a man that not only cared about me and my son, but respected all that we had gone through.

He was the one who taught me that the package deal I had always thought was just Ethan and I was a complete misconception on my part. The package deal was me, Ethan and Christopher. He taught me that people have a past and it can't be ignored but cherished for how it molds the person they are to become and will be in life. At times, I felt like I was in a fairy tale that I would wake up and find everything wasn't real. How could this man be so compassionate towards what I went through and yet so strong to put up with me and my sometimes emotional hurricanes that blew through from time to time? But he did and he brought me one step closer to understanding that I didn't need to know everything in God's plan, I just needed to put faith in myself and trust in that there is one.

He supported me through the 5ks we ran, the life choices I made for Ethan and myself and and even when I changed the way I ate he found ways to keep me on track. When I was hard on myself he would come over and tell me to look at him, and to gaze upon his eyes was hard. For in them I saw the way he sees me. Strong. Gentle. Loving. Bull-headed. A Fighter. A Mother. Independent. Rough around the edges. Sometimes full of fear. Yet with the gentle touch of his hand and the way pushes my hair around my ear all that leaves me and am replaced with peace. In that brief moment I am allowed to be transparent and all that consumed me to be let go. I am allowed to be me. The "d" I thought I once lost. I was just one step closer to understanding what this man meant to me.

It was a cool September morning that the MusicMan and I ran a 5k together and ran it side-by-side. It was in that run that my heart swelled with such joy and happiness. Here was a man that supported me in so many ways that my words often fail me when I want so desperately to explain to him that everything he does for me and what it means to deepest recesses of my soul. Here in that run was the physical manifestation of everything that he had done for me. By my side: when life speeds up, slow downs, feels like an uphill climb or downhill coast; he is there by my side pushing me through when I need it the most.

In his eyes I find the grace and beauty this world has. The touch of his hand takes away all my worries and fears and replaces them with peace. There isn't a morning that goes by that before my eyes have opened and my feet hit the floor that I haven't already thanked God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in that the MusicMan is apart of mine and Ethan's life. His love and support truly has brought me one step closer to where I am today. At peace and happy.

It was a Friday around 3pm when the world stood still at the Dallas Museum of Art. While all these images flashed before me and where I had come from; the journey this world has brought me through; I watched in awe as the man who had helped me, supported me, let my tears and sobs fill his ears, knelt down on one knee before the battleground of memories that flashed before me. His gentle eyes gazing up at me; he uttered the words,

"You make my life beautiful as the work of art that sits here. Will you always make my life beautiful? Denise will you marry me?"

I fought to hold back the tears that wanted to push through and enjoyed the moment of how time stool still for us. I took one step closer and hugged him. I could feel both our hearts beating fast in rhythm with each other. Every breath, every sigh, every tear that had been ever shed during every hour of every day and every year had come to this...

My heart grew to include another who's love was different; yet equal in it's strength. God's plan that had laid out over the course of time was unveiling it's self briefly to me that even with great sorrow there is always a plan. One only needs to trust in it; to put all of themselves to it.

I've overcome so much and in that I've had the strength of one man to show me what it meant to be loved by the inside out and what love feels like from the inside out. I learned how to be a fighter and never let the world take from me what means the most to me and Ethan. Then I was blessed to have another man come into my life that showed me what great friendship means and how love can be found again when you least expect it. How letting yourself be loved is sometimes the most difficult task, but when you allow yourself to tear down the walls that surround your heart and open yourself up; another great love can be brought to you. Everything in time. One step closer to God's plan.

(ps... I did say yes and my little muppet is to the moon and back with excitement!)

A Muppet's Perspective

2012-12-04T11:45:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't written in awhile. Life with a six-year-old can be one where days seem to pass with the blink of an eye and I'm left wondering where all the time went. October 12th was the 4 year anniversary of Christopher's passing and the day that I made (in my own eyes) a brave choice. I won't lie, I prayed for months over this. It wasn't easy. In fact, it was gut wrenching at times. My stomach twisted and turned with the pros and cons of what it meant to me and Ethan. My mind went back and forth with "should I?" or "shouldn't I?" In the end, I chose the answer to be "yes"… On that fateful Friday (October 12th) I explained in my words, and the only way my soul would let me, to Ethan what made that day special… that on that day 4 years ago his dad left this mortal plane and went to heaven.

Up to this point I always made that day special for him and I. I have always taken that day off to remember the sacrifice and fight that Christopher made for us. Working (for me) on that day seems trite and I choose to fill it full with reflection, meditation, running and enjoying the little things with my Muppet. For Ethan this day means being able to ride his bike to school, lunch with mommy and a trip to visit daddy and partake in some cupcakes (i.e. - cupcakes with daddy). Up to this point I made the day special without ever sharing "why". It was just special in it's own right.

Why did I do this? Well for one, I didn't want Ethan's life to pass through the whirlwind of time we all get caught up in and never know or understand what October 12th meant to us. For him. I never wanted him to look back and ask why I kept that day to myself and in return possibly mark his life with feelings of death being something horrible and to never be spoken of aloud. I've always been very upfront with Ethan on everything else concerning his father and it just seemed like it was time to explain and bring everything full circle into Ethan's understanding. This moment has always weighed heavily on my mind because I knew the day would eventually come. I wasn't sure when that day would come, but at some point I knew it needed to be explained. And I needed to do it soon. I didn't want time to pass between me and my thoughts; then one day Ethan knows because he can read the marker that sits so perfectly where his dad is laid to rest.

Every choice I've made in my life has always come with a reflection of what that choice meant to Ethan. To me. To the both of us. I have always been cautious, always looking at both sides of everything before I made my choice. I consulted my therapist. Ethan's play therapist. I prayed over and over for guidance in something that I knew only I would know the answer too. I knew that only I would know if the time was right and if Ethan could handle it.

During the week leading up to this Friday I was a rubber band of nerves. Some days stretched me to my emotional limit while other days bounced quickly back from other emotions that flooded my mind. But that week was consumed with the thoughts of how I was going to explain this to my little Muppet. As I drove home with Ethan during that week, we talked about his days at school; the highs and lows of his day. From the back of the car there was a brief moment of silence then, "Ummm, Mommy…. you know Friday is donuts with dad at school?"

My eyes rolled swiftly back behind my sunglasses and my heart sank. The school puts on a book fair kickoff with a morning where Dad's come to school with their kids to partake in donuts and walk through the book fair (emotional marketing at it's finest). I responded after a brief pause with, "Oh really…." To be honest I wasn't sure what to say because the correlation between the fact that I was going to break some rather big news to my little Muppet on the day he was asking about blew my mind. My thoughts were interrupted with, "Mommy, do you think Mr (MusicMan) would go with me? If he can't it's ok… maybe he can just bring me donuts that day if he comes over?"

My eyes slowly, yet quickly, flooded with tears that I wouldn't let fall. Here was my muppet who knew his dad was in heaven and yet he has a bond with the MusicMan that is so very special that he would ask if he could go with him to Donuts with Dad. I told him that Mr (MusicMan) was going to come over that night and that he should ask him if he would like to go. Ethan quickly ended with an "ok" and moved onto the next topic that happened at school that randomly floated into his head at that moment.

Meanwhile, my head started to turn and swirl with everything that was leading up to a day I wasn't sure if I could tell Ethan how the day we were approaching made it special to us…. That night Ethan did ask the MuiscMan to go with him to "Donuts with Dad" and I was so very blessed that the MusicMan's response was one I wasn't expecting. He calmly told Ethan that he needed to talk to me about it and he would let him know. Then while Ethan took a shower the MusicMan turned to me and asked me my feelings on it. He expressed how he didn't want to invade into the day knowing what it meant and what I was about to tell Ethan on that day, but he would be more than happy to take Ethan to Donuts with Dad if I was ok with it.

My soul swelled with pride. Pride for a man that not only respects me and Ethan, but the memory of someone he never even knew. There was no explaining to him all the thoughts that ran into my head. He already knew them because he puts Ethan and I first in his life. And that made my response even easier. I didn't have to think about it, I already knew that if Ethan wanted it and the MusicMan - I wanted it for them. I knew that the MusicMan wanted to do this for my Muppet and that makes the bond between them even more special in my heart.

The MusicMan jumped off the sofa with a swiftness and walked over the bathroom door and yelled into bathroom to Ethan that he would be happy to take him. My heart beat with a proudness in both these men. One for the little man who loves life with so much zest and zeal that it shows in the twinkle of his eye and his soft little sighs. And for the man who loves both of us for not only us, but what we have been through. For a man who thinks about how we will feel and walks with those emotions with a firm foot and soft step.

Friday morning the MusicMan came over around 6:30am and took Ethan off to school for the morning donut event. I went for a run.

My run was once again filled with memories; good and bad. Filled with thoughts of all the blessings in my life that God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in brought into my life. I had an amazing love with a man who fought tooth and nail for me and our child. He showed me that strength comes from within.

I thought about all the people that were and are in our lives; who where there for us helping us when times got rough. The kindest of strangers that flooded my house for months with food, blessings, cards, and more than I could have ever imagined.

Thoughts of where life has taken me. How at that very moment a man was sitting eating donuts with my Muppet and I knew in his heart he was enjoying every moment. He wasn't replacing Christopher, just picking up where Christopher couldn't.

My mind started building a stage where I could see my Muppet and MusicMan sitting across from each other talking about Batman and Star Wars. I could see Ethan's little laugh and the MusicMan's smile in the conversation. I could see beyond all else the bond these two had. From there I drifted into a conversation with Christopher where I expressed some things I was holding onto. Things that are private to me and him, but I needed to share with him my thoughts and let go some of the pain over his cancer I carried around. I told him I knew he was in a better place - one filled with light and love.

I went on to explain to him that I felt like the Widow from the bible who goes and gives all her money to a temple treasury. How Jesus explained to his followers that "this poor widow cast more in than all that have cast into the treasury; for they all cast in of their abundance, but she of her want cast in all that she had, even all her living."

I reached a point in my life where I knew, to understand and be at peace with everything in my life, I needed to give my all into my healing, to opening my heart and most of all the faith in God's plan. I knew that while I could always give what I felt comfortable with; it wouldn't be what was right and healthy for Ethan or I. I needed to be that widow in the temple and just give all that I had, even all of my living…

That day I ran 3.3 miles for the 33 years of Christopher's life.

The rest of the day was filled with meditation and lunch with my Muppet. After lunch I picked him up from school and we came home. After a little snack I asked him to sit with me. I thought for a moment I would chicken out and remembered my conversation with Christopher and the widow from the bible. I asked Ethan if he knew why this day was so special.

"Ummm, because we get cupcakes with Daddy?" he replied. I smiled and said, "well yes… sorta." I went on and explained how his dad on this day lost his battle with cancer, but not because he didn't try, because he tried really hard, but in the end it wasn't God's plan. I explained how on this day he went to heaven and that is what makes this day special.

Ethan quickly looked at me and smiled with his impish little grin and said, "so it's Daddy's birthday!"

Ummm, what? Say what? My mind raced with what did I explain wrong? How of all things did Ethan get that today was his dad's birthday? Then before I could fathom how to word my response Ethan put his hand on mine and said…

"Mommy today is Daddy's birthday because today is the day he went to heaven. So it's his birthday into heaven. Right?"

My heart swelled with the thought that my child is sometimes wiser than his years at times and how it's in his perspective that I've learned so much. I was expecting tears, confusion, something other than the epiphany that this day was Daddy's birthday into heaven. Such a positive twist that I never even thought to consider. A perspective that only my Muppet would have.

That little moment that I spent so much of my time dwelling over and making me sick at times was over and gone in an instant. It was again as if God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in was telling me that when you give yourself over to the things you can't control, it all works out in the end. Sometimes it's just takes a new little perspective…

Pax.

Life, Hope and Faith

2012-10-12T15:43:00.000-07:00

I’m a Christian. I’m sure anyone who reads this blog can tell that I believe in God and anyone who also reads this blog knows that I also give respect to other peoples beliefs (God, the universe or whatever it is you put your faith into). I don’t normally like to talk about my relationship with God because it’s personal, special, and between him and I. I believe that each person’s relationship with what they believe in is one that only they understand and with that I don’t like to share too much about my own relationship with God and my faith.

But it’s been four years…four years since I laid my ear to Christopher’s chest and didn’t hear his heart beat.

It’s been four years since I watched a nurse dump pills and medication down my kitchen sink and yet held out a bottle of sleeping pills and told me I would need them.

It’s been four years since I watched friends and family come to my door step with solace on their faces over the situation that was brought to us.

It’s been four years since the first time I ever had to explain to a 2 year old that his daddy was in heaven.

A lot has changed in four years. I’ve dealt with a lot of stuff that I don’t wish on anyone. Things that I personally wish I didn’t have to deal with nor do I ever hope those situations come back into my life.

When Christopher passed, all my thoughts were consumed with “what do I do now?” “How do I do this?” Yes, while friends and family are there to help out when they can, they are not the ones who struggle with the idea of raising a child on their own. Or figuring out how to be the mom and the dad and answering those tough questions that sometimes come out of my muppet’s mouth. And with all of this; struggling with the ongoing conversation between God and I.

Recently I’ve been spending a lot of time looking back. Letting my mind wander through daydreams that were once my nightmares. Seeing how far I’ve grown as a person: spiritually and personally. Like I stated in my last blog post, I’m not the same person I was 4 or 5 years ago and yet there are important parts of me are still very much held firmly in my mind and soul.

I won’t lie, anyone that reads this blog could tell you that this has been a long, sometimes arduous road, one filled with moments where I didn’t know or understand what path in life I was meant to take after the loss of what seemed like my whole entire life. Christopher was my everything and I was left to figure out how life moves forward without him in this new normal.

I failed a lot. I cried a lot. There were moments where I felt completely alone in all of this even though I was surrounded by my friends and family.

But through all of this I had a guide. Someone who never gave up on me. Someone that when I was unsure of all that life was throwing at me would shine down a light and point me so gently in a direction. I may not have chosen his paths all the time, but that’s the beauty of it. He's gracious if you fail; it just means there is another chance for him to point you in the way you need to go. One more lesson that he can teach you in the interim.

For those who haven’t figured it out, I’m not talking about the MusicMan or my parents. I’m referring to God. I think it’s important for anyone who goes through grief to know that we (God & I) didn’t have it easy those first few years.

I like to think that God is one of my best friends (in a way). You would do anything for your best friends and yet some times those best friends make choices you wouldn't choose and while you still love them through and through, you just don’t understand why they did what they did or agree wholeheartedly with their choices.

That was me…and the relationship that I had with God. I never renounced him from my heart, but I didn’t agree with his plan. Shortly after Christopher passed I would look up to heavens and ask why? Why did he have to take one person in the world who completely understood me and knew me from the inside out? Why would a friend put me through so much pain and in such a deep fog?

It took years of healing and working on myself to understand and see the little things that he brought to my life to understand that I’m not meant to “get” everything. And it’s more than ok to play the bullheaded card with God because it’s just another way for him to grow the bond between the two of you.

So I recently started writing a letter to God. It feels fitting since shortly after Christopher passed I wrote a letter to him and went outside and burned it. I let the flames of my words rise to the heavens above and let him know just how I felt about everything. In return I believe he took the last few years trying to show me things that have helped me heal. His little signs for me along the way that sometimes I missed and other times I completely got right away.

This time of year is normally reserved for a letter to Christopher, but this year I think I need to share with people my letter to God. So that anyone who’s going through anything that leaves them feeling alone in this world because they have had to question their faith (or the path God, the universe or whatever it is they believe in) know and understand they weren’t alone in all of this. I went through it too.

To My Lord,

So much time as gone by since my last letter and yet we talk daily, but never about my first letter. I know that you don’t avoid the topic; you have always found ways of letting me know I was never alone in all of this and that there was a “plan” so to speak.

So why do I bring it up now? Four years later? Because in all that was brought to my life you made me into someone I didn’t really think I could ever become. I’m stronger: mentally, physically and spiritually.

I won’t lie. It’s has been rough. You and I haven’t had the easiest path. If confusion and torment had a face, it would have been mine. My eyes were the home of a soul that thought it would never find peace. And when you took my grandmother just ten days later I looked at my reflection in a hospital window and told you I was tired of this game you played with my life.

I spent years trying to climb the steps back to healing that were once the relationship that we had. There were times I begged and even tried to threaten you to heal my pain. I spent countless hours trying to understand the “why” and “what does it all mean?” I tried so hard to believe in your plan that I overlooked all your signs in life and it left me cold on the inside at times.

But you never gave up on me. You left me sign after sign that you were there and that there was a plan. It took almost a year for me to open my eyes and see the first sign. But I did. And once I saw it and you and I talked on that fateful run and you have left more and more along my path for me to see.

I never thought I would end up here; never did I think I would be standing where I am. Happy. At peace. And while I don’t always get it, I see the little blessings that my life may not have without your signs.

You led me to confront demons that I always allowed to just pass me by and shovel them in the deep recesses of a closet in the hopes of never dealing with them. But you forced me to open the door and confront them head on. You made me realize that doing what is easy to appease others isn’t always the right thing to do and you gave me the strength to stand up for what I believe in as a mother and a woman. It wasn’t easy. But it made me stronger – it made me a fighter.

You gave me the greatest little gift anyone can have in my Muppet. He’s such an amazing little boy and I know that you and he have a very special bond that I could never fully express in words, but know that I can see it in the twinkle of his eye and in the expressions of his questions when he asks about your life and that of Jesus Christ. He may not know all your prayers by heart – but trust me when I say that his heart is filled with your glory. And I thank you for that.

You gave me a wonderfully loving man in Christopher; someone who fought tooth and nail to be here for Ethan and I. His love was deep, pure and amazing. It was like a warm blanket you can’t wait to embrace. He was honorable and an amazing father. Ethan is so blessed to have a part of Christopher with him.

You brought me into a life that I thought wasn’t meant for me. And yet with that you also brought me a friend who was always there to listen and bring me comfort. Again, one of your little signs that life moves forwards when he explained how his family went through the same thing just a generation before. You blessed the MusicMan with so much compassion and grace. In him I learned to love again. And through the relationship we have had from friendship to dating you have re-taught me how special life can be again. You showed me how in all of this I am not alone. Other people go through this too. We just have to open our eyes to those around us and truly get to know them, not judge them.

God, you never gave up on me and I thank you for that. You gave me strength. You gave me determination. You built back the relationship that I knew we once had and you even made it stronger. You let me vent my frustrations over your plan and in return you never gave up showing me that in everything there is a peace and you would never take me anywhere that your grace wouldn’t help me through. You taught me what it means to truly work on myself from the inside out. Mentally, physically and spiritually.

For all of this I thank you. I love you. My heart is filled with your grace. And in return I will always continue to work on our relationship to make it stronger – from the inside out.

Four years later…I don’t always get it…but I am thankful for everything you brought me through and helped me through.

Pax,
-d

4 Years Later. My Advice to Myself.

2012-09-19T07:26:00.001-07:00

Four years ago my life and that of my family changed with one little phone call. One little worry that haunted in the back of my head; which turned into an epic moment that while parts are a blur, I still have my moments of clarity that sometimes still haunt my daydreams through to my nightmares.

In less than 5 minutes I was told that the one I love(d) would die. That the child who slumbered so peacefully above my head in his crib would grow up not knowing his father and that I at the age of 31 would feel the sting of burring my husband and struggle with the new responsibility and title of "single mom". This was a day that, while was always a possibility, I never let wander into my head for more than a minute or two. Why? Because the emotions that were chained to that thought were heavy, daunting and unspeakable in my sutto happy-go-lucky life. Simply; I didn't think I was strong enough to handle them. Yet, here I was. Forced to let that emotion not only sit for more than the allot wait time, but what would feel like an eternity in my soul.

Little did I know that four years later while driving into work I would look back on where I was and how far I've come. At stop lights, as music ran through my head and wrapped around my daydreams would I realize how much I've truly grown and changed. How, to be honest, I am not the same person I was 4 (or even 5) years ago. While there are certain basics values instilled in me that hasn't changed; my overall view of allot is no where near the same. I'm the same person, only I've learned to take that tough exterior that kept me safe from ever feeling joy and happiness has soften and the cracks have allowed this sandpaper like me be wore down.

I'm still "d". Fun loving. Overly sarcastic at times. Loving. Compassionate. Mothering. Friend. Artist. I still love to dye my hair weird colors and wonder through my daydreams of a world where I just might live in my own dream-able Hogwarts. I still love to sit in art exhibits and ponder over how the artist came to the painting that sits before me. Was it something they passed everyday and felt compelled to save it's imagery for generations to see? Or was it something more mystical? Something that spoke to them on a level that only they would understand and no matter how much I ever gaze upon the strokes of paint I will never grasp their reasons as to "why this moment in time?"

I am still that "d" that finds the secret to life (for me) can be found in the little moments of life that others might let slip by without taking two seconds to enjoy them. Sipping a warm cup of coffee while I walk my muppet to school. Watching Ethan's face as he catches me trying to sneak up on him when I pick him up from his after school program. Listening to the sweet sound of Ethan's voice as he expresses randomly and exponentially how cool something was at school. The way Ethan drops his head when something is bothering him and only I know what that means. It's in those little moments watching Ethan's team soccer play a game and he turns to find me in the crowd and holds up his little fingers to tell me the score with his sheepish little grin. It's in those little moments when I read his bed time story and he curls up next to me and I can hear his little heart beat as he sighs his loving little sighs.

I am still the "d" that wants her life to be filled with great memories. A life with little moments that not only remind me of who I am, where I came from, but what I hold in my heart to be true in my values and faith. A life filled with love, light and happiness. Life filled with a balance of everything this world has to offer me.

However, with all that hasn't changed; allot has. And not because I wanted it to, or needed to, but I changed as life changed with me. I challenged my faith; had conversations with God that will always and only between him and I. I grew stronger in what I know, believe and call my faith. I am a woman of God who puts her life in his hands and yet also knows that God helps those who work to help themselves because they give themselves to him. He can show us a path; but it's up to ourselves to choose to walk that path; learning and living rather than complaining about the speed bumps along the way.

I am the woman who found that dating and putting yourself out there isn't worth it with the wrong man. Then there is the friend who you have grown to know, become best friends, care about, then love. The friend that was there to listen as a complete stranger as I explained how everything happened in my life and reminds me of the moments in life that helped bring me to who I am today. The stranger that became a friend, then a best friend, and now someone that life holds a new adventure and meaning. Finding that life can have balance between two men that are held in a heart that I didn't think could grow and yet has expanded over time to hold both so close.

I am "d". I am strong. Loving. Ever changing and yet remaining stead fast with everything I hold to be true that makes me, me. I can look back on life now and say, "Look where I came from. Look what I've done over these four years. Look at how with all the struggle, I worked to keep my head healed high." I am the person that if I could go back four years ago I would take that "d" that had crumbled to the floor and pick her up. I would force her to look at me and I would tell her this,

"You are stronger than you know. Right now feels like the end of the world and right now, it is. It's the close of something that you hold so dear and cherish with all your heart. But it's not the end.

You have the most wonderful little boy who will lift you up when your down; I promise. His little smile will bring a level of joy back to your heart that you thought might never come back. But it will come back; over time.

While you will struggle with friendship; they are still your friends and in time they will grow with you. They don't understand certain moments in your life, but that is because they have never gone through what you will go through. You will make it through this.

There will be ups. There will be downs. There will battlegrounds that leave your knees bloody from praying so hard for things to change; for life to get easier and that physical pain that is held in your heart to subside. But it will. You will fight for it. And it might not feel worth the fight; but it will be. You will no longer be that girl that sits at the curb waiting for life to hand you what it holds for you. You will be the one that lights her path with a gallon of gas and a match stick. There will no more be waiting, you will take charge of all of your emotions and know what it feels like to feel in control again.

You will learn to love again and that man will respect you, Christopher and Ethan. He will be the one that opens your eyes to the fact that you and Ethan aren't the package deal like you thought you were - it's you, Ethan and Christopher. That man's love will show you what's it like to want to look forward and not down. His family will guide you in how you could only dream of being accepted by those around you who just a generation before went through something similar. That family will open your eyes in more ways than years of therapy will ever help.

But besides all this - you will have to want to fight for all of it - and you will. At times you will think certain battles are lost while others you come out swinging. You will be amazed just how far you will come in life and in your own personal strengths. You will again know what it's like to love life from the inside out again. Just know. Four years later… you are ok."

Clarity

2012-09-06T14:14:00.000-07:00

In life, we all have that one topic that keeps our minds running in circles. Bouncing from one thought to the other. Always wondering in the back of our mind if we are over thinking the random snippets of thought or possibly just too lazy to care (or too scared to make a choice that just might impact our lives). I promise you everyone does it. On some level or another, it happens at some point in our lives. From "should I eat in or out?" To "is this choice that I make for myself and/or my child the right one?"

A few months ago, Ethan turned 6. A big whopping, needs-two-hands-to-show-you-how-old-he-is, SIX. (Can I just say where did the time go?) This year's theme was Angry Birds and I was informed by the Angry Bird Master himself (aka Ethan) that I happen to have designed his invite with a sub-par Pig and Yellow Bird…. Sigh, everyone is a critic…. But I digress. This birthday was not only special to Ethan but for me as well. This year we got to celebrate Ethan's birthday with Christopher's Aunt V!

Now for those who don't know the family dynamic; Christopher's mother who passed away had two sisters, V & S. For the sake of this post and for my own personal reasons, we will just call them V & S. Both of these beautiful women did the readings at our wedding and Aunt V did Christopher's eulogy. These two women were the closest thing Christopher had to family that made him feel the way one should feel with family: loved and special to be a part of their lives. They never asked for anything, nor did they ever expect anything from us but our love. These two women meant more to Christopher than I think they will ever know.

A little over a year go Christopher's Aunt S passed away. To say it was tragic was an understatement. There had been so much loss in the family already between the two sisters that my heart broke into a million pieces. I was left speechless, unsure as to what to do or what to say. I coped with it the best I could, but I won't lie, losing her was hard and brought back a lot of memories of emotional upheaval I felt when Christopher passed. Most of all I knew this would be hard on Aunt V. Her last sister gone. Just makes me sad as I sit here and type this post.

But I was blessed and elated when Aunt V asked if she could come down for Ethan's birthday. I was so excited to see her again being that the last time I saw her was at Christopher's funeral and I was even more excited for her to see Ethan who had grown up a lot in the last 4 years. I couldn't wait for her to see his little personality and how much at times he reminds me of Christopher. But I was also scared. Scared that things would get brought up that I had made my mind up on and wasn't planning on moving from my stance. Other than a few emails and phone calls here and there, we didn't really talk about the other side of Christopher's family dynamic and the choices I had made on that front. I was worried that she might have talked to said parties in question and was going to lecture me on how wrong I was or what I should do instead. Or was she going to side with me and support me in my choices? Would she find the man I'm dating repulsive? Or think he's nice? Would she think that I'm too strict with Ethan or not strict enough?

Yes, my mind floated in and out of all the possibilities that one could possibly think of (and I even think I thought of some some people would never think of). It's just sort of how my mind works - think of all possible scenarios and work every plan of attack from that point on. It's exhausting and I'm seriously trying not to be so anal with my thoughts when it comes to this aspect of my life - but then again it's the only way I know to protect myself emotionally. Sad to say.

I picked Aunt V up at the airport and my heart skipped a beat. It was so good to see her and see her smile. We talked the whole way home without stopping about what is going on in my life, in hers and her kids. It was like those 4 years that had passed didn't exist. She bonded with Ethan quickly and he to her. They had so much fun spending time together and bonding over playground and pool antics that it warmed my heart to see Ethan connect to her so quickly.

After Ethan's party (which turned out amazing if I do say so myself) on the last day before Aunt V had to leave she and I went out to see Christopher. We drove out and sat next to his grave and talked for a few hours. We shared our fears, regrets and hopes. She talked about all the things she wished she would have done differently for Christopher and I shared how much he loved and admired his Aunts. We talked about the topics I was afraid might come up and she supported me in my choices and told me that as a Mom she knew that what I was doing was right.

We talked about the man I am dating and how my love for him would never be exactly the same as the love I have/had for Christopher. But that the new love in my heart, while it felt different, was equally as vast and just as comforting. She talked about her own life and how while she didn't lose a spouse to death, she understood the struggles of moving forward in life. She commented on how proud she was of me for everything that I have done for Ethan and in my life - keeping Christopher's memory alive and yet still moving forward with life.

In the passing days after she left, I started to question this little part of me that has always been in the back of my mind. Balance. How do I gracefully balance the life I had with one man that I cared so deeply for with this new man whom each day my feelings grow stronger? How do I respect both equally? Was I really doing the great job that Aunt V said I was doing? Or was I just fooling myself? It's a question that pops up from time to time in my mind and just sits there. Circling around like a shark to it's prey waiting for the right moment to attack the mental swimming's that float in my head.

Then while Ethan was on the start of his vacation with my parents the Music Man and I had had a conversation one night about our grandparents and how much they meant to us; how much our lives were shaped by who they were. Shortly after that with no Muppet to worry about Music Man called me and asked if I wanted to take a short little drive to visit his Grandfather's grave. He hadn't been there in almost eight years and after our conversation he felt the urge to go. So we did.

The drive took a little over and hour and we talked the whole way about all the great memories we had with our Grandparents and shared funny little stories. When we got to the cemetery the Music Man was unsure of where the grave actually was. He told me to look for his Grandfather's name and how he would be next to the grave of a man named "so and so". My first thought was; funny how he can remember the name of the guy his grandfather is buried next to, but not where his grandfather is buried?"

After walking around and looking for a good 30 minutes we found his grandfather. I placed a flower that I had brought from my backyard and placed it on his marker. As I looked to the right I saw the other head stone of his neighbor with the name we were suppose to look for as well. As I looked at the birth and death date I realized how young this other man was when he died. Maybe 27 at the most. As my mind drifted with how sad it was that this other man lost his life at 27; my thoughts were interrupted.

"That was my Grandmother's first husband," said the Music Man.

I turned and looked him with what I'm sure was the most questioning and confused look.

"They are buried side-by-side?" I asked.

"Yeah."

We soon left and I started to realize how eye opening this trip was for me. It was God's (the Universe, whatever it is you believe in) way of giving me a nudge. Pushing me through all those mental road blocks that I had put in my mind for my thoughts and emotions to trip over. Here was a woman who lost her husband, had a young child, and move forward with her life. Here was a woman who had so much balance in her life that the two men she love(d) and adore(d) are buried side-by-side. Equals. Equals in love and stature. This moment in my life was eye-opening, inspiring and just what I needed.

After we left there we went out and grabbed a bite to eat and beer. I explained to the Music Man that while I knew this trip was for him; I some how felt like it was for me as well. It was the visual explanation that I needed to help me that life does have balance. The only person keeping me from that balance is myself.

Dating is hard. Dating being a widow is even harder. You second guess yourself all the time. Am I doing the right thing for my child? For myself? Is this the person I want to be a role model for my child? And the answer always boils down to this. As long as you have balance and know that in your heart this person fits your values, respects your memories of those gone, supports you in every way that challenges you to always be a better person and in return you do the same for them; then yes, you are doing the right thing. You are with the right person. You have found that balance that life needs and sometimes you just have to step back and see it from a different set of eyes.

I needed that talk with Aunt V to help me understand that to keep life moving forward I needed to forgive myself for my mental mishaps and challenge myself to push through the random hunting's of my mind. I needed to be there for the Music Man to see that in his life his Grandmother found a balance between the man that was taken so quickly and the man that everyone called Granddad. I needed to see that here was a family that accepts that their life was a little different and respects that God put them on this path. I needed to see all of this. I thank God everyday that he gave me those days and the clarity to understand them. Pax.

Run Time

2012-08-20T08:34:00.003-07:00

As part of my #healthyMe lifestyle (new blog here about it) I made a New Year's resolution to run 5 5ks this year. So far I've done 2 (boo on me I'm behind). However, with that said I am about to run the most important 5k of any that I will run - Heroes For Children 5k. Why is this one important? Well for starters this is the third year that I've run it and all proceeds of the run and fundraising go to families dealing with childhood cancers. I've been there done that, sorta, having a family member suffer from cancer and going through chemotherapy. Watching them struggle all the while trying to keep a household afloat, caring for them, caring for your child, trying to work full time and keep all the doctor appointments straight - it's not easy and these families have their children that are affected - what I went through pales in comparison...

Last year I had Ethan sit outside and pose with my running shoes right before I started training for it. Every time I look at that photo it makes my heart melt - his happy little face next to my shoes. So this year I decided to do the same thing. We ran outside (right before it poured down rain on us) and I asked him to put my shoes on and pose for me. First, I was shocked to see that my shoes don't actually look that big on him (insert tear - my little man is growing up). Second, he looked very seriously at me and said, "Mommy I'm gonna make your exercise face!" And this is what I got.

At first I was shocked that he looked so mean that I even commented to him to that "Mommy isn't mean when she exercises!?!" There was soon a stalemate between us. Ethan couldn't explain what he was trying to say and the rain was making it a hair stressful with my camera outside so that we gave up the ghost and went inside. Later that night after pulling the photo off the camera and looking at it I got what Ethan sees in me when I have those shoes on. It's determination. Strength that I feel in my heart to overcome what has happened in our lives and how I plan to make our world, our situation, a better place for both of us. And one of those things is this run.

The first year I ran it - it was so therapeutic in nature. I needed it to help me break through my own walls that I had put up and around me. The second year, it was still therapeutic, but on a different level. Ethan was there to see me cross the finish line and watching his little eyes in excitement as I did it made me feel good about what I had accomplished. This year, Ethan won't be there to watch me. Not because I don't want him to - but my parents won't be in town to be there with him. Which yes, makes me a little sad because this year has been about making myself a healthier person, mentally, physically and emotionally. Him seeing me cross the finish line as this newly transformed person would be my cherry on the top of my world. But it's ok. Knowing that he knows I'm going to run and WHY I'm going to run is the important part in all this. That together, as a team, he and I are doing what we can to help families dealing with cancer. We've done it - we were given help when we needed it - now it's time to give back.

I'm sure this run will again be very therapeutic. They always are with each 5k I've done. What can I say? My mind twists and turns and translates the things that are caught in the corners of my soul better when I run. And as always I will blog about it. I have to say I am really excited about this 5k. I've been working really hard to lower my run time and as of two weeks ago I actually managed to reduce my run time by 5mins and 30 seconds! SO yeah, I'm excited to see what time I get when I do cross the finish line and I'm excited to run with all the people who will be there to support these great families!

If you would like to donate and help this great cause you can do so by donating on my fundraising page. It takes $750 to help a family in need and that is my goal; to help one family! Please consider passing this along and sharing with people you know. I'm 1/3 of my way to my goal! Please consider helping these families!

Pax - d

Shadow of Fear

2012-06-28T12:14:00.000-07:00

I know it's been awhile. I have several posts that are half written and others that are complete and ready to post; yet they are my own personal thoughts that are so deep inside my mind that sometimes I think to myself, "I’m not quite ready to share."

With that said, I think I need to address something that happened a few months back and seems to be a common thread that wraps itself around some of my friends lately. Something that I feel anyone can relate to; not just people who might have lost a loved one.

Everyone has (ugh I dislike this term so much) “baggage”. Some more than others; but we all have it and anyone who denies having it is lying to them selves. I personally loathe the term for the implications that the events of someone’s life that is out of their control is considered the metaphor for the choices that define who we are and how we react in certain situations in such a degrading term as “baggage”.

You know, baggage, that thing you lug, shove and kick around when you travel. The thing that gets tossed and stuffed with the awkward facets of our lives and yet we continue to not acknowledge the fact that you can’t keep throwing stuff in there and expect to fit it all into the overhead compartment without sorting through what’s in there. Again; did I say how I loathe the term?

And yet we are defined often times in peoples' minds by this level of “baggage” that we carry around and let be shown to those around us when we least expect it. Now before we go any further, let me state for the record, I am not this person who looks at people and whispers, “oh wow – she’s a you know what – did you hear how she acted when so-and-so did this?” That’s not me. I’ve had too much happen in my life to look at people on such a first blush and make such brash comments. I completely understand that what makes, builds and defines us, can often be the events in our lives that are all to many of the times often out of our control. I watched a mother slowly die and saw in her eyes how the resignation that she would never see her son marry or get to meet her grandchildren become resolute. I watched as her passing brought a tremendous tear through a family.

I’ve seen the implications of a father’s indiscretions effect his son in a way that made him fight tooth and nail to prove to himself that he would be a better dad than his own. When in the end all that was ever needed was just a little more love from a Dad that gave up way too quickly.

I have observed friends as they struggle to date because they allow their minds to become flooded with memories from their past and find it hard to carry a level of trust for someone that has done them no wrong; all because someone else carelessly battered and bruised their hearts to the point that running seems easier than being hurt again.

I was blessed with being able to sit back and watch people; to love them for them. To love myself for who I am and what this life and situation of mine has defined me to become. Never judging. Just understanding that the people in this world are who they are based on their situations that have brought them to where they are and will be in their lives.

And for the most part I have taken my level of understanding others to work on my self and my own level of grieving and (ugh that word again) “baggage.” It’s why I knew from the get go that I needed to go to therapy to work through the demons that presented themselves to my thoughts and work through the grief. I lost my best friend and I needed someone to tell someone I wasn’t crazy and I was doing the best I could, but would also be there to give me the tools to work myself back into the strong woman I once was before cancer entered our lives. And for the most part I have. It’s still something I work on every day. Grief isn't just something that magically goes away.

No, I will never be the person I was before or even during Christopher’s cancer. Remember when we were kids and maybe you would swing as high as your little legs would take the swing on the swing set? And maybe you even dared to see how high you could fly and jump off said swing? Did you ever fall and cut your hands on the wood-chips? Scrape your knees? Break a bone? Where you the same person when your body abruptly stopped, hitting the ground?

In that moment when you jumped the world was a spinning kaleidoscope of faces, sounds and colors that made no sense until you hit the ground and realized what had just happened. And even after hitting the ground and knowing you were on your feet, the feeling of knowing you weren’t the same when took flight starts to hit you. You start to see the strides and/or ramifications of what this little jump did and your mind kicks in to tell you that you will never jump off a swing or even get on one for a while. Or maybe it did just the opposite and the thrill of the rush that came over you pulls at you like an orbit to that swing. However so, your mindset from that point on has been altered.

In that instant, your mind changed the way you thought about swings or how high you would ever allow yourself to swing. You changed and you didn’t even know it (at least not right away). You are still sorta you – just that little part of a daredevil has either buried itself or grown ten feet taller.

I have worked on myself for years to get to a place where I felt like I made it through the jump, the scrapes and cuts have healed and left little scars on where I landed. While I have told myself over and over “the swing doesn’t scare me”...well I was wrong.

A few months ago the Music Man got into a car accident. Let me start off by saying, in the end, the wreck wasn’t really bad at all. No one was hurt and other than some body damage to both cars the only thing battered and bruised was possibly the ego of the other driver for causing the wreck.

However, as I got tiny snippets here and there of the events, my mind was divided. I knew at that moment what it was like to have the feeling of ying and yang going on simultaneously in your body. I understood the madness that Dr. Jeckyll had for Mr. Hyde. Bruce Banner had nothing on my version of emotional transformation. I found my mind and soul residing in two completely different places and yet trapped like a bee in the jar of my own body trying to find an out only to hit the invisible wall that held my emotions at bay.

I sat at my desk at work telling myself “he’s ok” over and over again. Then feeling those dark recesses of my mind start to form and take shape into images that made me feel a level of vulnerability that hadn’t been felt for over 4 years. The circle of thoughts in my head swirled erratically painting a picture that used the colors of my heart, the canvas of my compassionate soul and the composition of my past to hang a gruesome portrait in my mind that couldn't be taken down no matter how hard I tried.

I tried to squash those monstrous thoughts with “it’s a fender bender, d, get the hell over yourself.” Which lead to more visuals that drew themselves out in my head in pictures and sounds that were clear as day. Days like this are days that I dread being a creatively thinking person; because, while my imagination was a powerful tool that got me where I was in my career – it was also being allowed to take my already mangled thoughts and throw them into a gory graphic novel that you can’t put down and yet scares the shit out you. And know you should drop it before your nightmares start.

I spent most of the day fighting a David and Goliath-esqe war in my head. The giant of my over active imagination against the pebble of my meek positive thoughts that tried to take them down; unfortunately my David was losing this battle. Quickly.

That night while taking to the Music Man he asked me if there was anything he could do to prove that he was ok. He repeated it over and over and with each blanket statement of “I’m ok” came the mental image of Christopher sitting in a hospital bed telling me that he was “ok” even though a doctor hadn’t left long enough for the smell of his after shave to leave the room and the words “cancer” echoing through my mind as if it was shouted into the Grand Canyon.

I said to him, “Someone else told me the same thing and he’s not here anymore.” Then I stopped. My eyes froze and welled with an overwhelming sadness. All these years of working through grief I somehow, somewhere over looked this scar. It wasn’t hidden; it was always there. Almost as if it was in plain sight. Yet, I never saw it. Or maybe I chose to never look at. Never examined the ridges that sat so perfectly across the soul of my heart.

I had allowed myself to care about someone else to the point that the news that they might or might not be hurt dug into that scar and left the weapon of choice lodged into it and it was bleeding at level of pain that I vowed to myself I would never feel again. No matter the bandage I tried to tell myself I couldn’t control the pain that I had opened myself up to. By caring about someone else I tore down all the walls that protected my heart from being hurt and here I was; in battle with my own thoughts and no fort to hind behind for protection.

I went to therapy. It helped. A little. But not in the level that I needed it to. I was still at war with my own thoughts that were now creeping into my dreams at night. I had all but almost given up hope that I wouldn’t be able to move through this part of my life and mind again. All my hard worked seemed flushed in one foul caring swoop.

Then a week later we had a nighttime 5k race (the second one of the year for us). We made plans of where we were going meet after the race and I even excused my self from our conversation so I could zone out on my music and try to pump myself up considering that part of me that had allowed my monstrous thoughts to take life were now telling me that I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t make it through this run. It was pointless to be there.

As the race started I did my typical race pattern; weave in and out of people to try and get ahead of the walkers and strollers then find my pace. I listened to my music and tried the best I could to zone out – let the music work it’s magic and get me through the finish line. As I ran I tried to take my mind to places that were distracting and ignore the thoughts that wanted to sit and use my over active imagination as it’s play ground.

I looked at the people ahead of me. That just bothered me – this race was at night and people were wearing glow in the dark paraphernalia that made my eyes water. I closed my eyes. That didn’t work; I was bound to trip. I looked to the side of the course; I almost ran into someone. Then I realized my shadow from the streets lights was in front of me. I focused on “chasing it”.

It helped for the most part. My mind started to evict those unwanted visuals and started to get lost in the music that was blaring through my ears. I focused intently on my shadow; trying my hardest to run it down with no avail. Then suddenly I watched that shadow quickly move from the front where my feet ran after it to being behind me. I was no longer chasing my shadow; it was now in a way pushing me forward.

I then found the words of the song pumping through my tiny little ear buds.

“You know I dream in color, And do the things I want.”

This song was somehow my internal thoughts monologuing to those fears that were allowed to manifest into the creatures of dark proportions and trying to put them in their place.

“You think you got the best of me

Think you had the last laugh

Bet you think that everything good is gone.

Think you left me broken down”

Those scars that cancer left on my heart and forced me to build a wall around to protect what was left were being confronted by that “d” that was tired of the games that played out in my head.

“Think that I'd come running back

Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

Stand a little taller”

The shadow, which I focus so intently on, was beginning to represent everything that I was going through. My shape. Running. Trying to escape like only Peter Pan could from his own shadow.

“Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone.

What doesn't kill you makes a fighter

Footsteps even lighter

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger”

My shadow was my fears. The fear of caring about someone to the point of leaving my self vulnerable to the pain of possibly being hurt again.

“Just me myself and I”

Understanding that this new vulnerability was a milestone that I honestly didn’t think I would ever ascertain or work through. I was so determined to never let people in because it was the only way that I knew I could protect my heart. Protect myself from fears that had no name.

“You heard that I was starting over with someone new,

They told you I was moving on,

You didn't think that I'd come back; I’d come back swinging

You try to break me but you see

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger”

These no named fears lived inside of my head, hiding, waiting for me to falter just enough to rear their ugly head. But I wasn’t going to let them win. They couldn’t win. They are mere thoughts that only I control. I am the one who has power over them. No one else.

I am the only one who can fight these fears and force them from the front where I seem to be chasing after them in the hopes that I might out run them to pushing them in their place.

“Thanks to you I'm finally thinking 'bout me

You know in the end, the day I left was just my beginning..... in the end...

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

Stand a little taller

What doesn't kill you makes a fighter”

I know it will always be a struggle to keep those fears in check and keep them in my past. Letting them be the building blocks to who I am and not the stumbling blocks I allowed them to be. They will still be at my heels always trying to move in front of me as quickly as I pushed them back. I will always be trying to tame my mind from the scars that might be cut and allowed to bleed into my soul. But what helps me keep more focused on this path now is knowing that this sick cycle carousel of emotions will never stop. There will always be that swing set and the idea of flight from it in my head. It’s something that I will encounter over and over again and it won’t stop swinging until I step down from it to understand how to be in control of my own speed.

“Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone.

Just me, Myself and I

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger”

Sometime life throws us in a direction that at the time makes no sense and we are left to figure it all out. Some of us fly through it. Some want you to think they can fly right through it, when in reality they never process the emotions that come to them. Instead they bury them inside that “bag” in the hopes they can forget about them (out of sight, out of mind). Then the very few who struggle and those events that life brings them leaves them tattered and bruised. The “baggage” of their lives left for people to mock, make fun of and yet those people who are left to mock are never the ones that would take the time to understand the feelings that brought up those feelings; to extend a caring hand. Sometimes people just need to stop and ask “why” to gain just a hint of understanding. This world is often too quick to judge.

I discovered that I had "baggage". The loss of someone I cared so deeply for left an almost impenetrable wall around myself, until I let one person in. Then the wall that protected me for all these years failed me when I needed it the most and yet with it's failure I have realized where I need to work on myself so that I can continue to move forward in everything that I have work towards these last few years.

Grief is something that truly has no end. It’s something that will always reside in the waiting room of our thoughts. Waiting for the next time it can sneak in and try it’s hardest to damage what we have worked towards. In the end, I have come to peace that grief will never really leave me. It’s home sits in the quiet corner of my heart, but I am the only one that can feed my fears and control the life I have worked so hard to being how you say “baggage free.”

Faith in the Unknown I Don’t Know

2012-06-18T10:08:00.000-07:00

About a year ago while leaving church walking blissfully hand in hand with my muppet the silence between us was broken with a question.

“Mommy, when I become a daddy do I have to go to heaven?”

My heart sank. I knew that one-day questions such as these would come from my innocent little boy. I just never expected them to come then or with such forethought that his little tone had put behind it. You could tell that it was something that weighted heavily on his little mind to the point where he couldn’t hold it in anymore and needed answers to the thoughts that bounced around in his head.

I always knew that Ethan and I were on opposing ends of the grief scale and we would slowly move towards each other at a pace that was comfortable for us both. And at some point our paths would cross and I just prayed that that day would be one where my heart, mind and soul was at a place of peace so that I could be there to answer those difficult questions of “why”, “why him” and “what about me”? But this question threw me in a tilter of emotional upheaval. I wasn’t expecting this now at such a tender age.

My child’s mind was filled with thoughts that the idea of becoming a father and raising a child meant death… and that… broke my heart into a million pieces that seemed almost impossible to pick up and glue back together. My eye swelled with the tears of the possible answers that floated through my head – I threw each one out because each one had flaws and I already knew that with whatever answer I could word ever so perfectly it wouldn’t be enough or right for Ethan.

I couldn’t say “No”, because in his thoughts his dad was gone shortly after becoming a Daddy. I couldn’t say, “Yes” because, well for obvious reasons. I thought about saying all families are different, but it never really would answer HIS question.

While my mind quickly came up with answers and shot them down Ethan stopped in his tracks and looked at me. “Mommy? Will I?”

“No” was the answer I choked out and hoped he couldn’t see the tears welling up behind my sunglasses that I have become so good at hiding behind. Then the very next question was the one I knew he would come back with.

Ethan looked at me with those big dark eyes and for a moment I could see through them and into his little soul. So sweet. So loving. He would be one of those men that would make a wonderful companion to someone and an even better, loving, father. Ethan’s soul is one of someone twice his age; so mature and compassionate. And it broke my heart that all these thoughts filled his little mind when it should be filled with Thomas the Train or when was he going to the playground next. Instead he was concerned that if he became a father it meant he had to go heaven and he needed/wanted answers and he was looking to me for them. And I was at the biggest loss as to where to find them.

“How do you know Mommy?”

I paused and looked at the sunset ahead of us. Then without thinking I told him, “Because I have faith in the unknown that I don’t know.”

Ethan smiled back at me and said cheerfully, “ok.”

Like that answer magically worked. I had found the golden goose of an answer that surprisingly Ethan accepted. There were no more questions that day (or week) about death, Heaven or when he became a Daddy. I sat up late at night pondering over a glass of wine if I really gave him the answer he was looking for or if he just didn’t understand it and figured I took too long to answer the question in the first place that he thought it pointless to ask another one. Either way I spent many a night wondering how he processed that answer; or if he even processed it at all. Did it all just go over his head?

I found my eyes fixated on a photo of Ethan. That little smile, those little eyes dark at night and that warm spirit that seemed so old for such a young little boy radiated from the photo. I thought about how I would give everyone in the world a thousand pennies if I could just have one peek inside his little mind to see how it works.

One glance at how his wheels turn. What goes on in that little mind that makes him seem so much wiser than he appears at times? But God, the universe or whatever it is that you believe in didn’t grant me that wish.

It was shortly after that conversation that I called a play therapist. I knew I was getting to a point in Ethan’s life where I had given him certain tools to understand the situation that was him, I and the life that was set for us. But I was also reaching a point where I felt like I wasn’t schooled in ways of handling childhood grief and it was time to bring in the expert.

I struggled with this idea because I felt like I failed as a mom for not being able to handle my own child’s fears, but as the play therapist told me, I was just the opposite and giving my child everything I could to help him. It may have been a marketing tactic on her end, but it made the choice to send him easier on my mind.

He amazed the play therapist and I by using every second of play therapy to talk about Christopher and the few memories he has of him. He talks about how he knows his daddy is in heaven and he’s happy and looks down on him. They talk about Ethan’s fears and the therapist teaches him the tools he needs to overcome them. His play therapist has been a blessing to both our lives.

Between the work Ethan does in therapy and what she teaches me to work on him with Ethan has gone from being afraid to sleep in his bed to sleeping upstairs all by himself and now even getting dressed in the morning before coming downstairs. He even came to me the other day and told me that he had made some wrong choices and didn’t deserve his iTouch and gave it to me as his punishment (yeah I’m still in shock over that one).

The old little soul I see in those eyes comes out more and more with each day and it warms my heart to see him growing into such a strong and loving little boy.

April 18^th Christopher would have been 37 and I thought with everything that Ethan had gone through it was time he knew this day was his Daddies birthday. See, in the past on Christopher’s birthday I would pick Ethan up and we would go out and have cupcakes with Daddy. I would buy some cupcakes and we would sit out there and eat them and talk about Ethan’s day. I never told him what that day was; I just wanted him to know that it was special and when Ethan was older I would explain.

This year I felt like Ethan was old enough to fully understand what made April 18^th so special to him and me. We sat down and talked about it and I asked him what he wanted to do to celebrate it. His answer? Cupcakes with daddy!

So the Monday before we went Ethan made him a card, necklace and bracelet in play therapy to leave on the grave. It was a very special moment for all of us and I even got a photo of Ethan with his card that we taped to the marker.

That night as I downloaded the photos from my camera I looked again into those little dark eyes that are filled with so much mystery and pondered. Wondered. To only be a fly on the wall that resides in his head for half a second is all I would want. To understand what flowed completely through his mind this day. This day brought him so much joy.

Yet, as I looked at those photos I was brought back to that moment after church when he looked up at me with his questions that I didn’t have the answers to. I still don’t have the answers. But as I told him before, I have faith in the unknown that I don’t know. I have faith that God gave Ethan the skills and wisdom to be the child that he is to understand where it is in everything that life gave us.

To find joy in a day that for him brings joy as his Daddy’s birthday and yet I wish I could see the world through his eyes. For me Christopher’s birthday is one that is private and held in my heart. It’s a day where the man I love(d) no longer grows old. It’s a day that also marks the halfway point before another year he’s gone crosses off my calendar.

The greatest lesson I learned this year with Ethan was on this day. Looking at him so happy and full of joy on this day. It was his Dad’s birthday and one that should be celebrated because without his father he might not ever be there to smile upon that grave and know that his dad loves him, wholly and completely from beyond this mortal plane.

I find that while I was choking on answers to tell Ethan almost a year ago – he was the one enlightening me almost a year later as I watched him through a different set of eyes. This year I looked at him with a stronger belief in the unknown that I don’t know, that all this happens with reason that no one is meant to comprehend, only to believe and find joy in the simple things that life holds within it’s robes that we often look over.

Today is a day special unto itself for the reasons that each of us hold in our hearts. Something we all should remember each day. :)

Equal To

2012-01-18T11:28:00.000-08:00

I had this whole blog post written out; even found the perfect photo that would go with it. Then the Music Man and I had a conversation that has changed this whole post in a way. Like I said before, I have to remind myself that the Music Man didn't know Christopher because he talks about him like he did and respects the relationship that Christopher and I had and for that I'm truly blessed.

The other night he and I had a really long conversation about a friend of mine and the rough time she's going through after divorce. I expounded on how after reading one of her blogs I wanted to reach out and hug her and explain to her that all her feelings were normal; for in the end no matter how you lose your spouse, everyone grieves for the relationship that they had.

I explained to him how shortly after Christopher passed I went to a free support group that met twice a month. It was set up for families who had lost a loved one and were dealing with that loss. There were people there who were divorced and just there for their kids. There were people who had been going for years and yet still couldn't find a place with their grief that made them feel that life was going to be ok. Then there were people like me. People that had recently lost their spouses and didn't know what happens next.

I quickly befriended a woman who had children Ethan's age and got to know her. Her husband passed quickly in an accident and our stories couldn't be more different. While I had time to tell Christopher all I wanted which helped put my mind at ease; her and her husband got into a fight and she left with the kids to go to the store only to find when she got home that their house burned down and he failed to make it out. I remember her hashing out her story and how she had gone a year without talking to almost anyone about her feelings. Then there was me who the second I found out that Christopher was going to pass had made a mental notes to find a grief therapist. We were so different and yet I still saw a little bit of me in her.

She was strong and put her kids first above all else. She was dealing with things one day at a time. She had her good days. She had her bad days. She had days that all she wanted to do is lay in bed, but knew that wasn't going to feed her kids or keep a household running. She swallowed her emotions whole to deal with at a later date in time. She was me. I was her. Our situations different, but dealing almost the same way. We related - in a way.

Then one day after the holidays we were in group and we had to talk about something positive in our lives (being that Valentines day was right around the corner). One-by-one everyone shared their stories of how they met the person they lost or a touching memory that stayed with them. I shared how on the first Valentine's Day after we were married I walked out to my car only to find that it was filled with red, pink and white balloons and a vase of flowers in the cup holder. I grinned when I explained how I had to smile -- not only for the visual that a car full of balloons brings, but how in the hell was I going to get to work (on time) and how in the hell did Christopher manage to squeeze as many balloons as he did in my Passat!?! But that's why I love(d) him. He always kept me on my toes.

Then it was this other's woman's turn to share. I remember thinking that her story might be similar just based on conversations that she and I had in the past. I was ready to reach over and hold her hand when she might start to cry. I was ready to be there for this woman I considered similar to myself.

She looked at the group. She looked at her feet and took a deep breathe. I thought to myself how this memory must be painful to rehash and I was posed with a tissue to hand-off at any moment. She started to talk; then stopped. A rather long sigh exhaled from her and then she spoke.

"We are suppose to talk about a happy moment?"

The mediator in the group nodded his head. Another long sigh came from her and then she spoke again.

"Well then my happy moment is I'm excited about Valentine's day," she paused and took another deep breath.

"The guy I've been dating for a few months has a really nice evening planed and I'm excited. My life is better that it ever has been; even when I was with my husband. And this is something I'm really looking forward to."

Everyone in the group just stared. There were even some jaws that hit the floor. And yes I'm sad to say I was one of those people that were in complete shock. I couldn't fathom telling people that my life was better than what I had before, or even feeling that emotion. The next few months she didn't show back up to group and I stopped going because honestly I felt like I got more out of my personal therapy sessions than I did with the group. But the memory of that woman's story stuck with me. I remember laying in bed wondering what she went through to think that her life is better now? I thought about how I could never say it. And I would never say that.

I sat in bed thinking how I would never date; because I never wanted to fight with feeling that if I opened myself up to someone else that it would mean that what Christopher and I had was a joke, something that meant nothing to me. I didn't want people to look down on me and question my every move. I didn't want to have to explain to someone that I could never love them because my heart only belonged to one person or that they could never better my life because I had already had the best life could offer.

I would listen to friends going through divorce explain how going through it was the best thing that ever happened to them because it meant that they were able to find their happy again. Needless to say that idea just went over my head. I was lucky if I could go two days with a smile on my face. People dating happily always forced a fake a smile because on the inside I could just never see that for me. All I could see is a woman who just needed to make it through life till Ethan went off to college and then I would figure it all out. Sounded easy enough. It all made sense in my head.

I explained to the Music Man how this past Saturday, with Ethan tucked in bed for the night, I sat on my sofa with my laptop in my lap and I stared at my friends blog. I read over and over her post. She talked about how her ex's birthday just passed and her's was coming up soon. How this was the first time that she hadn't spent a birthday with him since she was 18. And even though she's dating a man who respects her and cares about her; she still misses her husband. She can't see how divorce will end up being something good like her friends all talk about. She misses what her and her ex husband had.

I tried to wrap my tongue around the metaphors of how my fingers danced over the tops of these keys trying to find the right words to comment on her post. I thought of "I feel your pain." But that really isn't helpful. Yes it's reassuring, but it's not comforting. I thought about posting some really long and epic montage about how when life gives you lemons you bring gin. But that wasn't going to be helpful either because I don't think she drinks gin. I thought about explaining how one day everything will make sense. But right now nothing probably makes sense to her.

Then I remember the woman whom I thought I could and yet couldn't relate to. And here I am in a relationship; so how does all this relate to my friend who feeling allot of pain as she travels through the milestones in life after her divorce? If I tell her it will get better - then what does that say about the relationship I had with Christopher? Yes, I could see how with many of her friends she might find peace with her divorce and feel that way. But I don't really think that will be the case with this friend. I could be completely wrong. I could be half-way right. But I have a feeling that she will find instead what I have found in life.

So what do I say to this woman who feels the same way I did sitting in that grief group? That was the question that I posed to the Music Man. He turned to face me and explained to me in only the way he could, all the things that I couldn't wrap my mind around how to say them.

He explained that what Christopher and I had was special and he would hope that I would never say that my life is better. That would be an insult to Christopher and the relationship we had. But what he hopes is that it's equal to what I had with Christopher. That anything less isn't good enough and it should never be better; it should be equal and different.

There will be times when I wish that the Music Man knew a little more about cooking and in his words, he will never be as great of a cook as Christopher, but he can try to be almost as good. And there will be times in my life when I prefer things the Music Man does that Christopher couldn't do because of work or preference. And none of that makes them bad or good over the other. They are different and yet equally important to what makes a relationship work.

He went on to say that he was proud of me for all that I have managed to accomplish since Christopher's passing and I should never beat myself up over things that I can't always put into words. Sometimes that's the beauty in life. Life itself is so beautiful that words can't always unfold themselves to me; and yet, I fully understand where it was I've come from in this situation that life brought me . I've grown from them. I'm a stronger woman than I was before and chose not to be the woman I was headed towards becoming. That woman that closed her self off and lived in a cocoon is gone. She's so freaking gone. She has been replaced with a woman that is more confident and stronger than she had ever been before. She emerged into the woman who lets her wings soar. My life is filled with a new adventure and the adventure of sharing it with someone else. It's an adventure that's not better than what I had, but equal to. It's one that's filled with compassion and understanding. It's one that brings that same eat-shit grin to my face again. Each is different in their own respects and yet both make happy.

It took me years to get to place where I could look forward and not lock myself into my fears of the past. It's ok to sit back and remember what "was" and in no way will life ever be the "exact" same. But it can be as good as it was. As good as you might day dream it be. It takes time. It takes understanding. And most of all it takes a growing heart to heal those pains that find their way to hurt us over and over.

To my friend who's going through a tough week. It's 100% ok to feel those feelings that flood your mind (heck it's more than 100%). You grieve for the relationship you had and what it was that you loved about it. And while yes you have a man in your life and he's understanding of everything you have been through - that also means he understands that there will be times that you need to flood those memories from behind locked doors with your tears. As time presses on you will find that the woman who hurt for those moments will find peace with all that she feels and you might even look at that woman and wonder how you got to where you were. But the important thing is you allow your self to grow and understand. Don't let your mind trick itself into thinking you're any less than what you are. A strong beautiful woman.

#healthy me

2012-01-06T08:50:00.000-08:00

(all photos in the frames are from Devine Photography)

When Christopher was told he had cancer I was the type of person that read through as many white papers, online articles and books I could find to find out more about cancer. I wanted to know everything I could about it. How it grows. Why it happens. What have people found to make going through treatments easier? In the end I was a wealth of cancer knowing information.

I took everything that I had read and applied it to our lives. I changed the way we ate. How we went about our daily lives. Christopher even went as far to try mental warfare on his cancer. Whatever it took; we did it. When Christopher passed away I knew right away what this all meant for my muppet. His chances for cancer are higher than most kids, but he has leg up on those other kids because his mom knows the type of cancer that he might be predisposed to and how to fight it before it can ever happen. It's not all about diet, but most if it is.

See colon cancer LOVES a diet that is high in fat and low in fiber. And I won't lie when I read that fact I had to shake my head and ask myself why no one told Christopher this when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. But then again when she was diagnosed her doctors also told her she could drink soda and fatty foods to keep the weight on during chemo and NOW we know that was wrong because cancer eats sugar for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So knowing all that I do know about cancer and how it "thinks" so to speak I change the way my house thinks about food. I don't buy canned foods (green beans don't come from a can around my house). I cut out red meat for most of our diet. This means very little pork and steak. Yes you heard me right - pork. Pork is NOT the other white meat. Ask any nutritionist and they will confirm what I just typed. Pork is so high in fat that it's actually classified as red meat on a nutritional scale.

Now while all this sounds great and YAY me for doing all this for Ethan. I sorta left me as a loop hole. Yes when all this changed I lost around 40 pounds (basically I lost all the extra baby weight that I was struggling to get rid of). But then I hit a wall. I could run, workout, and try my hardest to keep losing weight, but I never really could get below a certain weight and feel like I was making progress. Then a friend of mine got really into fitness. She was doing what I did with cancer. She poured over books and read everything she could about it (following her on twitter was an eye opener - follow her on Twitter at @SheIsStrong).

It made me want to change the way I saw myself. I've always viewed myself as physically strong (heck I carried a 45 pound Ethan almost a quarter of a mile asleep on my shoulder one night on the way back from Disney World and didn't blink an eye). I'm strong for someone who's only 5' 2". But I've never been happy with the amount of fat that I carry around. Yep I said it. FAT. Want to hear it again? FAT. FAT. FATTY. FAT. You know that little extra stuff you carry around your middle. Muffin top? Love handles? Buddha belly? Whatever you want to call it - I got a little of it. And it's all from drinking too much soda, eating fast food at lunch when I shouldn't and snacking on tasty treats that pop up into the office or my house.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm 5'2" and 127lbs (on an average day). I'm not overweight when you look it up on the height and weight ratio - but I am what you might call "skinny fat". I carry around a little extra fat than someone else my size. So my goal this year wasn't to lose weight. It's to lose fat. And yes, losing fat will cause me to loose weight - BUT that is not the goal.

Ok hear me out. If I say I want to lose weight; the average person (myself included) would try to watch calories, maybe cut carbs and work out harder. However, when you change the way your mind thinks (like wanting to lose fat over weight) you allow yourself to eat more fruit than normal or not take that one Hersey's Kiss because only one has 25 calories (or whatever it is that we tell ourselves). I can continue to work out the same amount as I do without having to kill myself with hours upon hours of work outs.

I guess the bottom line is Ethan only has one parent and I need to make sure that I am there for him through as many years as I can. My honest goal is to live to be 100. Yeah I said it. I want to see my muppet turn 70! Yeah yeah - big goals; but hey I dream BIG! ;)

Now for those people who want to try and change the way their mind thinks about health, food and working out I strongly suggest checking out CoachCalorie.com. This site is amazing! More than amazing - I've learned so much and just taking a few articles that I've read and applied the thoughts behind them to my life over the past 5 days I've lost 2lbs. Yes that's more than I want for a week (I really don't want to lose more than a pound a week if I lose weight), but what that tells me is that my body was used to all the C-R-A-P I put into it. It means that there is nothing wrong with my metabolism and it's running at the pace it should be. I was just putting all the wrong things into my body for it to do what it needed to do.

What did I change you might ask? Well I didn't go cold turkey on soda; I just told myself that I could have one can (or small glass) of soda a day for two weeks. Then I will go to every other day, to once a week, to none at all. It's hard. Don't get me wrong when I went out to eat recently it was hard to order water when I normally go for a Coke. But I did it and I was proud of myself for doing it (hint: order it with a lime in it if you don't like the way water taste - it adds a little something to it). I also bring my breakfast, lunch and snacks to work everyday and I sit the lunch bag right on my desk to remind me that it's there (it also keeps me out of the break room from anything that might tempt me). I'm changing things slowly and benefiting from it already.

For anyone that wants to follow what I do I'm going to post on the Living Strong Facebook page some of my meals and workout with the hashtag of #healthyme. It's just another way to keep my self honest and moving forward towards a healthier and happier me in 2012. I challenge all of you out there who want to change what they see in their lives to start now. Not in a month or when things slow down in your life. NOW. TODAY. Right this second even. Our lives are our gifts to ourselves and our children. And like my parents taught me - any gift from anyone is a gift that should be accepted and accepted with graditude because it means that someone took time out to think about us. So start thinking about a healthier you. Take care of the greatest gift we have. Ourselves. For all those people that bring joy into your life. Make 2012 a #healthyme.

The Music Man

2012-01-04T11:31:00.000-08:00

Ever have those moments when your iPod falls onto a song that you haven't listened to in awhile, or you put a new or lost CD in your player only to come across the most beautiful song that fills your heart with meaning and excites the mind in ways that you thought might never happen? For me it happens a lot. So much so, that a lot of my blog posts are all inspired through the thoughts that are manifested through the gentle sounds that fill my ears and float through my head. Honestly, if music left this world, this artist would surely struggle and possibly starve. It's the one thing in my life that has helped me through so much (musical therapy if you will) and yet it's the one thing that continuously grows with no end in sight.

Music (in any form) is a lyrical symposium of an infinite creative play on words, notes, metaphors and harmonic symphonies; that plays on every sense that fills my soul. It spins a web through the complex emotions that maze through my mind and allows those feelings that I can't always put into words and sanctions them to escape on the back of tunes that help me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day.

Each year I have written a letter to Christopher about how much he still amazes me and how much even after time has passed that I still love him with the wholest of my heart. I write to Ethan about the amazing strides that he has over come and how such a small little person changed my life and did wonders when I needed it the most. And all he had to do was smile to make that happen. I write about what I do on those days that are still milestones in my life and what making it through another year means me, but this year things are different.

Life for me is different right now. I'm in a place where it's not late breaking news that the woman who lives on the corner lost her husband and she's left to raise a two year old son. I'm the woman on the corner who has brought that two year old to day care, pre-school, other transitions in life and now walks him to kindergarten every morning. I'm the woman on the corner who sits outside on nice nights when the son she adores is asleep and drinks a glass of wine on her front stoop letting her mind swim through her day dreams. I'm the woman who finds the humor in shows she thought she once lost. I am the woman who found her rhythm in life if you will.

Now, with Ethan in school, soccer and faith formation classes (aka Sunday School), there is another part of my life that needs to be addressed and shared for this new year. Since Christopher passed I have watched my single friends date; some poorly, some struggling to find their way through the dating scene and all the while others were skipping joyfully through it finding the loves of their lives. It's something I've watched, marveled at and sometimes closed my eyes and shook my head.

One of the thoughts that run through my head for some time is could I ever commit to another man? Yeah I've blogged about how I want it; well more so that I would like another child or even just the idea of sharing my life with someone else. However, each time after hitting the post button I was always left with the question of "do I really want all that"? I knew front ways, side ways and in all ways that Christopher loved me like no other. I was his queen. His cheerleader. His greatest defender. The love of his life. So honestly, how can any man really see me that way too? Aren't you only supposed to have one love of your life? Am I capable of love at all? That was always a weekly war in my head. How can you fathom to give your heart to someone when so much of it is taken by someone else? The idea of being single seems easy after all that runs through your head.

One lone day during therapy my therapist explained to me that I don't have to share my heart; I just have to learn to let it grow and there will be someone who will not only be ok with the fact that part of my heart beats for someone else; but will understand and love the fact that it does.

Ok wait - back up the bus? What did my therapist say? That someone will love the fact that I'm still in love with someone else? Was my therapist smoking the good stuff; because I couldn't see anyone loving me. Or that someone would love me for my loyalty to the relationship that I had. Because honestly, if I woke up one day and just didn't still care for this man, this man that I write about and pour my heart out about - then what kind of relationship did we have to begin with that I could toss aside the love we had just to be with someone else?

Then I met the Music Man. We both found each other interesting. His grandmother had lost her first husband, leaving her with a daughter of only a few years old. And he had always heard the story of how God always brings love into your life as long as you allow it. Needless to say, knowing that little fact about him; how in a way, he was on the "other end" of what I was going through was comforting. His mom and her older sister have different fathers and he's the grandson from this other love that his grandmother was brought to. It was almost as if I was being shown that life does go on and here is this family as proof.

We talked. Became friends. We both share a love for music (honestly he's the only person I know who listens to music the same way I do). His music collection completely surpasses mine (hence why I've nicknamed him The Music Man). He was the first person that I had ever met that we could not only talk about the bands we like, but talk about how music made us feel and how sometimes there is a song that has the best lyrics in the world and yet the notes that surround it don't light a candle to it. Or just the opposite. He's the kind of person that when he reads the first paragraph of this blog will get a huge smile to his face because he completely gets it. Because he feels music the same way I do too.

But that isn't even the best part about this man - this Music Man. The best part is we are truly best friends. I have to remind myself from time to time that he never met Christopher because he talks about him like he did. When I'm upset he reminds me of the loving relationship Christopher and I shared and how there is proof in my Muppet. We've spent many a conversation sharing about our lives and our own struggles with what has gone on in them that it feels like we have been friends for more than the short time we really have been. He's been there as a shoulder to cry upon, vent on, share my fears with and as of late he's been a driving force supporting the things I do with Ethan and my own personal goals in life. He is always there when I need the random help.

One of our ongoing conversations is for me to find happiness. He's always stated that for me to love anyone I needed to work on breaking down the wall that I placed around my heart. That what I went through was hard, but I've proven I'm more than a strong woman and now I need to work on bringing the things that make me the happiest inside my heart so I can break the wall that surrounds it from the inside out. Yes, there is a wall around me. I've known it from the day I was told that cancer entered into my life. It's one that I've built stronger and stronger as I've tried to make it through explaining those tough questions that Ethan and life put in front of me. It's one that I didn't think would ever really fall and part of me wanted it to stay because it was easier to have that than to allow life to hurt me again.

Then one day I was on my way out and the Music Man volunteered to watch Ethan for me. While I ran around gathering my things I hear Ethan ask him in a inquisitive tone, "Do you know where heaven is?" My heart and feet stopped in mid beat. All I could think of is, please don't answer this question, I haven't warned you as to what to say…..

Then before I could intervene I heard him say in a kind and gentle voice, "Yes I do. Heaven is where God is. God created heaven."

My little muppet paused and asked back, "Do you think my daddy is in heaven?" Again my heart stopped and my mind raced as to how I was going to jump into this overly innocent conversation between the two.

The Music Man paused and said in the same gentle voice, "Yes I do. And I think he's in a wonderful place where he looks down on you every day." I fought back the tears and continued to get ready to head out. The whole time I was gone I thought how blessed I was that Ethan had asked the Music Man those questions and not some random sitter that might have been there, because he answered them the way I would have wanted him to. The way that I had always written I had hoped that someone would. And down fell a little pebble that surround my heart.

I started to realize that this man who was not only my best friend meant more to me. He was more, but not just because he could answer a question right to Ethan; he was more because he has been the person who understands me. He understands the situation I come from and when tears fall he's the first to let me know that it's not only ok to be upset, but that he is there to talk, listen or let me scream about it and will never shun me for any thoughts that pop into my head and possibly cloud my thoughts.

He's the man that finds it beautiful that I have had such a great love already in my life; because that means that what Christopher and I had was special and that in return makes me a special person. He's the type of man that I would want around my Muppet. He's understanding of any emotions Ethan might have, but doesn't let him get away with sneaking a cookie and is the first to always tell Ethan that he should listen to his mom.

He's the type of person that always tries to find a solution to a problem and does what he can to help out. He's calm. Reserved. He's not a hot head and he's not the kind of person that would fly off the handle just because things don't go his way or as planned. He grounds me when I get upset and balances me. His confidence in me brings me strength I didn't know I have and he drives me to want to be a better person, boss, mom and friend.

Some might think he's weak for his kindheartedness; however, those people are the weak ones who can't see that it takes a strong man to be with someone who still talks about her late husband and the struggles that might come from watching the end of a sappy movie. It takes a strong man to want to be a part of a child's life who isn't even his. It takes a strong man to deal with everything that comes on the mix-tape of my life.

It takes a strong man to do all these things and remain understanding and willing to talk about the things that flood my mind. It takes for me the understanding and balance the Music Man brings to my life - not only as friends, but as someone that I want to share all my thoughts and things with.

Thank you Music Man for being there for me. For helping me during those times when I needed it the most. Thank you for being that random song that fills my ears and helps me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day. Thank you for being the man that I need in my life right now. And most of all thank you for being that man that I can rest my head on and feel like life has a whole new adventure again.

What A Year Can Teach Us

2011-12-27T11:44:00.000-08:00

Photos from left to right: June - Disney World; June - Ethan's 5th bday; August - First Day of Kindergarden; November - Ethan's 2nd Soccer Game

One of the things I like to do is to sit back and reflect on what the year brought me, taught me and what I took from it. I know allot of people don't do this and I am sure there are people out there that can't wait for this year to pass without even wanting to look back. And yes I've had those years where I can't wait for one to end and hope that the other brings me something better than what I had; but, I've always sat down and reflected on the past. I do this for one main reason - without reflection history is bound to repeat its self and the choices or course of action that made it a bad year might repeat itself too. It's a fact; you have to take what you learned from your mistakes and gathered from your wise choices to help make better choices in the future. It's something I wish more people would do.

2011 brought me a lot of things. Some things that are worth sharing and some that are not. I learned this year that people can be closed minded and no matter what you tell them - it's always their way. They don't want to be open to idea of letting new people or ideas into their lives. It's sad to think that in this world there a lot of good people and/or ideas and yet some people are so trapped inside their own ideas and thoughts on matters that they never open up and allow these other great people and/or ideas into their lives. I'm not one of these people. I try to see the good in everyone - even those that it might be hard to see past what other people can't. I look deep inside myself to understand people or their thoughts and the reason they are the way they are. The common man (everyone for that matter) is a product of their situations. I like to call it the cause and effect theory. If someone's father lost all their money in the stock market the effect might make the father leary of any type of investment and might even trickle down to the father's children if there is enough talk in the household about it. Everything is life is cause and effect and this is why reflecting back on things is helpful. It keeps random fears from taking over our lives. So as I enter into 2012 I will still try to see the good in all people and be open to their thoughts and ideas; however, I just might be more open to share with those that are closed minded how they need to be more open or show the other side of the coin they refuse to look at.

I also learned that even with some time that has past there will still be milestones in Ethan's life that will break my heart and bring me joy all at the same time. There will be moments where my heart swells with pride and yet breaks with a sadness that will remain with me for the rest of my years. And while this sadness might lighten as the years past it will always sit in the corner of my heart where my fond memories of the one I love(d) sits. I'm also blessed to have people in life who understand this and embrace it rather than run from it or chastise it. It truly does make me feel blessed.

I watched this year as friends got divorced, dated, broke up, got remarried and yet through all of this found what makes them happy. I was one of those people too who looked inside myself and found what makes me happy. I found in life that sometimes those around us that help us grow as people are the best friends we could ever ask for. It's the people that challenge us to be better people, mothers, fathers, coworkers, forward thinkers and better friends to those around us that are the strongest and loving people in our lives. It's the people that love and care about you from the inside out and who accept every facet of our lives that are the best people we could surround ourselves with. (I'm so glad to have all those people in my life.)

This year has brought me challenges as a mom and having Ethan in school, faith classes, play therapy and soccer. Balancing time has become something I'm rather good at it and while it took some creative thinking at times to make it all work (and sometimes it didn't work at all) - BUT I did it. I had to make choices so that I could be there for my muppet when I think he needed me the most and worked on letting go of somethings so he could grow one day it to a better and stronger man who doesn't let fear rule his life. It's a struggle that all parents go through and I had to face these challenges head on this year while also confronting my own fears on the subject. However, Ethan and I are both stronger for it and I'm proud of the strives that both of us have made in our respective areas. (Have I said lately how much I love my muppet?)

This next year I have a plan that I have been working on for the last few months. It's a plan that will start on the new year and one that I hope brings more growth to my life. I want to run more and become faster at the 5k I do every September (my goal will by 25-30 min 5k this year). I want to focus more on my art and becoming a better artist and boss to my coworkers (so happy to open my new art books I got this Christmas from my parents!). The plan is to share more of my life with those around me and let them know what they mean to me (this especially goes for my neighbors and good friends - I can't wait for Corpus 2012!). I want to share with Ethan the beauty that is around us and how life isn't about "Angry Birds" or "Thomas the Train" - it's about experiencing what life has to offer us and the beauty of nature around us (Go family vacation 2012!). Then I want to do somethings for myself. I've always put Ethan above all else and he always be my first priority in life (and he will still be my first priority in life), but I understand needing to do things for myself and bettering my self; because in the end bettering myself helps better Ethan's life too (Yeah more Mommy time).

I hope everyone out there can reflect on their 2011 and look forward to their 2012. Not just because it's a new year, but a new start to everything. It's never to late to change the way you think about things that happen in your life. It's never too late to change the way you think and process the events that happen during the past and upcoming year. It's all just a state of mind that takes the biggest step to say I want this to be my year because _____(insert your dreams here)______. Pax and Happy New Year.

A Praline Christmas Story

2011-12-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

So I know I haven't blogged in forever, but it's not for a lack of me trying. Ethan's in soccer, faith classes and other assorted things that I'm not always sure if I'm coming or going (but man does the North Dallas Tollway get their fair share of me). One of my resolutions is to blog more. More about Ethan and what he's doing and just things that are going on in ourlives that's fun and exciting. My goal is once a week, but we will see how that one goes between soccer, faith classes and the other assorted things Ethan does. However, I wanted to take some time and slow things down a bit and share with my readers my version of a Christmas story and what Christmas means to me. Each year I make pralines for my friends, family and neighbors - 30-35 batches a year (although I think I might have made 40 this year - there is no telling) and I like to joke with people that I make these ever-so-tasty goodies because I don't eat pralines; ergo I don't have to worry about any unwanted extra pounds that come from taste testing these little Christmas goodies. Smart huh (don't you wish you had thought of that (insert evil little grin))?!? But to be honest that's not 100% of why I make them; in fact it's only 1%. So why do I make these little candy cookies that take an hour to make and only yield 12-14 a batch - sounds like way too much work for something people just ingest right? Well for me it doesn't matter if I slave over the stove or sing gleefully over it. What matters to me is what those twelve little cookies mean to me.(Insert fade to flash-back) I consider my hometown New Orleans. And yes, while I only lived there the first 3 years of my life; it's where my grandparents lived and visited often and every corner of my mind is filled with sweet memories of them, their stories and great times. My grandparents were the kind of people who would slave over a stove for days making tasty red beans and rice or fried egg plant and stocked the freezer full of ice cream if they knew you were coming and liked it. It was their way of saying - I'm glad you're here. Ten days after Christopher passed; my grandmother passed away too. To say it was a low point in my life is an understatement of epic proportions. It was at that point that God and I had a little conversation where I did most of the talking and while I explained I wasn't renouncing him or my faith in him, I just didn't agree with his choices or plan. My life was crushed...and just a few short months before the holiday season was about to be upon us. What was I going to do? How was I going to handle it? And how do I tell these neighbors who were there for me the whole time that I appreciated them more than I could ever put down in words when all I wanted to do is crawl under a rock and hope the holidays to pass quickly? As Christmas came closer and closer I asked got to bring my mind peace found my thoughts drifting to Christopher and his giving heart and my Grandmother and how she showed loved through her cooking (she was truly the best cook and I can only hope and pray that I'm as good as her). My mind twisted and turned around the memories of both of them and how they both taught me that life isn't about what you have, but who you share it with and to tell them forth right how much they mean to you. A plan began to form and before I knew it was standing over a stove making something I had never made before - tweaking and testing, tweaking and guessing and before I knew it I had made one, then two, four, twelve, twenty batches of something that reminded me of the love and care that two people brought to my life. There in these assorted shapes and sizes was a tasty treat for others, but chalked full of memories, tears and joy that danced in my head while I made them. Each dozen was carefully placed in a pretty little box with a white bow. Hand delivered with Ethan in tow and as each person opened their doors to us and their eyes got big and each person cracked a smile it filled my heart with joy.
For me sharing those little boxes of my heart was the best gift that I could share with those that had been there for me; it was the best way to keep the memory of two people who mean/meant the world to me and always reminded me it's not what you have, but what is in your heart. The next year, I made them again, then the year after that and again this year. The number of batches has grown from my original twenty to almost 35-40, but it doesn't matter to me. Each batch is made with love, memories, great conversations from whom ever happens to stop over while I'm making them. They are a little piece of New Orleans that I call home. But most of all they are the little reminders of those I love and lost and how they help keep the meaning of life, love and Christmas in my heart. It's not what you can buy for your self or others, it's giving that little part of you to others to share and love. It's about always telling those around you how much they mean to you and how thankful you are to have them in your life. And most importantly it's about the tenderness of goodwill that we share with those that fill our lives every day and might only pass through it once. I wish you all a Merry Christmas. Pax Denise

October 12th

2011-11-06T13:38:00.000-08:00

On October 12th my facebook book status was, "[Today] I remember how life all changed 3 yrs ago." It was that day, three years ago that Christopher's battle with cancer ended. It was a day where I knew; life as I knew it was going to be different – completely. And as I started on my new path of my new normal and my own self discovery I saw how it was all so different and yet still the same.

This morning I walked my little muppet to school - in the rain. Yes the rain. Ethan loves the rain like there is no other; which he takes after his dad. Christopher's belief was that the rain was pure and clean; so, ergo you have to walk in the rain at least once in your life to understand what life is all about. It was/is an interesting philosophy to say the least and one that as I move closer to my zen I’m starting to understand where he was coming from. So it didn't surprise me (at all) that that day Ethan wanted to walk in the rain. So we did.

I will admit that when I suggested to Ethan that we drive to school I might have been a hair bent out of shape when he exclaimed that he wanted to walk and I just might have started to put the proverbial Mommy foot down on that choice. However, that day is the one day out of the year that I promised myself that Ethan and I resided in a different plain, for this one day, we are friends – equals in a way. We both experienced a loss and my loss is no greater than his. The pain that might find it’s way into my heart is no sharper or stronger than the one that will/might find it’s way into his. This was a day of celebrating the life of the one we lost and the life of the one who bought so much joy into our hearts. So… we walked… in the rain.

We jumped puddles. We laughed. We goofed off. Ethan told me I walk too fast. I joked that’s because he walks too slow. We made silly faces at each other. I asked him if he was going to have good day and he said in a very loving tone, “today I will be brave mommy.”

I was taken aback. I have never really explained what this day means directly to Ethan. I have never felt like it was the right time; yet. However, I have shown him through changing things we do on this day that today is a very special day for the both of us; even going as far to say, “today is a special day and one day I will explain it all to you when you are older.” So for my muppet to express his bravery to me – it was heart stopping and stopped me in my tracks.

When we got to school he hugged me, told me that he loved me and as he ran into the building turned and blew me a kiss. My heart filled with warmth; he’s never done that on the way to school. See, if you knew Ethan you would know how much he loves school and how as I drop him off he runs to get to his class room because he craves learning. So this simple little gesture of his love and devotion made my day just a little brighter.

I went home and got ready for something I have be working on for the last 16 months. Why 16 months? Well that’s how long Christopher was on chemo. It’s how long h roughly his overall battle with cancer was. So it’s in my way of reminding me of his struggles and keeping in my heart that he never gave up. This day I cut off the 12” of hair that I’ve been growing out. It’s been a labor of love to say the least – the summers are the worst with long hair and we’ve had a pretty warm one here in Dallas this past summer. But it’s a labor of love that I not only loved doing, but knew that at the end of this journey it would go to a child in need and that is all I needed to know to know that this gift was one I couldn’t give up on.

Cutting all that hair off was emotional to say the least. It’s one of those emotions where you feel like as high as a kite before your about to do it – then as it’s happening your asking your self why you are doing this – then it’s done and you look and see what you are able to give someone and it fills your heart with so much joy you almost burst from the inside out.

After getting my hair cut I ran and got some cup cakes and then was off to pick up my muppet. He was so excited to see me and me for him. We hugged and he asked what we were going to do (being that I picked him up earlier than normal). I told him we were going to visit daddy and that I had some cup cakes for us to eat. He was super excited and asked if we could leave a cup cake for daddy too.

When we got out to the grave, we sat and talked about his day at school and what things were his favorite part about the day. We talked about how good the cupcakes were and how he “loved” these cup cakes.

We didn’t stay long, Ethan managed to eat the frosting off a cupcake or two and I realized that we needed to get some dinner before he filled up on sugery-frosting-goodness.

That day was hard to fathom being that it’s been 3 years and yet feels like it was so much longer than that and yet there are times that it feels like only a year ago. Grief is a strange thing. Its one where I don’t think you completely lose the feeling of loss – you just learn how to cope with the emotion that sits in your heart. And there might be times that we encounter triggers and it brings those emotions to the surface, but as long as we work on understanding them and processing them then they become easier to handle and understand.

I had a good day of remembering the one I lost and yet remembering what this life has in store for me and what I can do for it. Pax.

From Vanity To Charity

2011-10-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

Last year I ran a run that not only was one of the best things I had even done for my self, but for the benefit of other people. It was therapeutic in nature and helped me take moving forward to a whole new level due in part to my iPod stopping just a few songs in and leaving me to float within the maze of thoughts that I had put off getting lost in and having some conversations with God that needed to be had.

I ran this run for the memory of a man that consistently challenged me to be a better person and for the future of one that never really knew his father and has so much of life that will be missed because of this (not to mention what will come into his life due in part to having his father and grandmother pass from the same cancer). It’s a run that I will continue to run from now until my legs won’t hold me up to cross the finish line.

This year’s run was a little different for me; mentally and physically. Mentally due it part to the fact that another year had gone by and I’m just in a different place with how I feel about life, cancer, God and the plan that is set for Ethan and I. I’m ok with everything and while I might still have my moments when I break down and remember the things I lost – I just don’t live in that part of my mind any more. There is a peace that resided in that part of my mind and I owe allot to how I got there. It took taking time to discover who I was. Not just discovering whom the “d” was without Christopher, but the “d” that I’ve always wanted to be. The “d” that I had always aspired to be and yet never really felt like I was putting 100% of my self behind it. The “d” that was always caught up with work, cancer and what else I could add to my plate to keep from having to think about what was going on in life in general.

Part of that change started with Christopher and a conversation he and I had when he was in the hospital after finding out he had cancer. I sat in this little white room with a TV that seem to play Walker Texas Ranger on every hour and on the 8 of 10 stations it had available. The smell was overly clean, but not in that piney clean sorta way; it was stale and sterile. The sounds of other people on the floor coughing and turning and knowing that they too had cancer was madding being that Christopher was the youngest person on the cancer wing. Christopher was dressed in those see through gowns and in only Christopher fashion he was up beat and cheerful. He was ready to make a plan and we talked about everything and anything. We chatted on how aggressive this cancer was, his will to fight this more than just the average tooth-and-nail; how we, as a family, was going to attack this cancer.

Faith, nutrition, medicine (Chemo), physical fitness and mental health was our plan. It was a good plan that both Christopher and I agreed to and one that while we discussed how we would make all this happen. Christopher and I made a pack that we would do whatever we could to be there for others facing similar situations; no matter what. It was at that point that he looked at me and challenged me to grow my hair out and cut it all off to give to Locks of Love. First let me say this wasn’t really an odd challenge for me. I’m notorious for growing my hair out then on a whim cutting it all off – so why don’t I “put that to good use” is how he phrased it.

I scheduled my first donation of hair months in advance; which ended up being just barely two week after his passing. I remember going into to my hairdresser and being asked, “are you ready” and just wanting to say “no”. This was not only my hair but also they were rings of my preverbal tree. “This is where we were told he had cancer”, “surgery”, “chemo”. I could mentally see the path of this journey through my hair. However, in the end I did cut my hair and while if felt good to cut off that hair and give it to someone who is going through cancer, it was gut wrenching. I cried on the way home thinking – what did I do…

But a few months past and I came up with an idea. One that while I thought was brilliant, I’m sure my friends all thought I was crazy and would cope out somewhere before the end. I wanted to donate as much hair as Christopher was tall. This was man who challenged me to do something that I had never thought of and I wanted to honor that thought the best way I knew how. So why not donate as much hair as I could in the memory of a man who to this day even after his passing moves people to better themselves.

Tomorrow, I will cut off 12 inches of hair and donate it again to Wigs For Kids in memory of Christopher as my second donation of the six I promised to myself. As you can see from the photo it’s been a labor of love and one that I’m not only proud to do, but absolutely love that I am. This process has helped me to discover the person I have always wanted to be. The person that gives up vanity for charity, to discover the greatest gift that I could give to another person is the one that fills my soul with light and love, to give without limitation and celebrate each day with love in my heart, finding out who I am by giving up something so simple of myself.

Growing my hair out started back in July of 2010 (the month Christopher started Chemo) and I have been watching my hair get longer and longer and more excited with each inch that grew out. I began to think how if other people could go through this same process of discovering and giving up a little part of themselves how; maybe – just maybe, it might start a movement. One where people give a little part of themselves to help those in need.

It’s not about hair, but helping those around you.

I came up with the idea to start a virtual movement where in the month of October asking people to “Give a Lock” of them selves. Take your vanity and turn it into charity. Give a lock of yourself to something or someone. Donate your time to a soup kitchen, or a single mom who needs time to her self, ask the little old woman down the street if she needs help or find a charity and put a part of yourself behind it. Take that time and discover a part of yourself that you might not have ever known.

Now being that I LOVE music (and it seems to help me push through those moments when I can’t find the words to sum up those complex feelings that reside in my head) I recently asked a friend and local artist to write a “theme song” (if you will) about the experience of giving yourself into something bigger than yourself. He accepted the challenged and after explaining why I was doing this he sent me the lyrics to a song that not only touched me because it was about the process I was going through; discovering myself, but it was something that I thought needed to be shared with everyone.

So my challenge to those of you who read this blog (and share this on Facebook and Twitter to those who don’t) – Give a Lock of yourself to something or someone. Live life without a limitation and love without condition. Help those that might not ask for help. Share those stories with me in the comment section for people to read and become inspired. And to help motivate you, click here to listen to the single or here for the full album and I encourage you to download them (heck it's free music) – let it help you figure out who you are suppose to be. And don't forget to comment your stories that have inspired you in a way to help those around you. Pax to you all!

Looking After You

2011-09-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is my view from my front stoop. I've sat here many a day watching Ethan play and telling my self that I needed to soak in every color, sound, scent and exclamation of his sweet little face. For one day, before I knew it, my stoop would be empty with those colors and sounds of his laughter because time had found him and made him into a man. It was in these days that I found out that Ethan has the most amazing little gift. He takes all the urgency, the hurry up and wait, the hustle and bustle of life and slows it down to a point where time feels like it stops and it's just the two of us in this great big world of ours.

Ethan started Kindergarten last month. A day that I swore to myself would not be emotional and yet in therapy I was making mental notes that I wasn't completely sure how the day would go down because of the memories I was allowing my mind to wonder to. A photo that I took just a two months before Christopher passed is a hard photo to set my eyes upon. Not because it's a photo of Ethan and Christopher; but due in part to the exchange in conversation that took place right after I snapped it. It went something a little like this:

Christopher turning over his shoulder and carefully giving me a head nod to step up to his side so he could talk with me. Quickly walking by his side; I give him a loving smile and sigh from the heat of the day while I try and briefly squint through the blazing sun.

In a soft and loving tone Christopher states with his heart, "I think the day Ethan starts school I'll take the day off so we can walk him to school together and I can walk him home." I didn't say anything, but smile, then tear up. For the idea that he looked forward to something so far into the future meant that in his head he was going to fight; to beat cancer, and be there to see his son start school.

He wrapped his arm around me and as we walked to the park he talked about how much it will mean to him and how much sadness it would bring due to the loss of his mom. I filled the silence with words of encouragement and the conversation was ended with me saying, "you're a great dad, you just being there for him will be enough... (insert loving smile)."

Those memories while sweet and heart warming have found a way to haunted my dreams and those moments when I'm left alone to the quietness of my own thoughts. I let my fears wrap themselves around these tiny little moments and turn them into something monstrous and vivid. However, I'm the queen of these haunting thoughts - the ghost buster of fear if you will. I've learned allot in these last three years and one of them is your fear only has as much power as you are willing to give it. And I was not going to let these moments haunt me on a day so near and dear to my heart.

Ethan's first day came and I was what you could say a bottle, no - jar, no - bucket of butterflies. Nervous that I would break down. Scared that walking those same steps over again would make me sick to my stomach. I was timid from the idea that my little muppet was going to big school for the first time - and sans one parent who's one dream was to be there. However, in good ole "d" fashion, all those fears were swallowed when I walked out and took Ethan's photos and saw all our neighbor and friends out there with us to all walk to school together. (Did I ever say how much I LOVE my neighbors & friends? Well if I didn't - LOVE THEM ALL! ALLOT! BUNCHES!)

To say we had a good start, well, lets see, yeah, that, that would be a LIE. OH DEAR. Ethan cried and didn't want me to leave, but in the end I just had to walk out and pray that his day would go well. It wasn't until I got in the car to drive to work when it hit me. I looked over to change lanes and there is was. His car seat. Empty. The radio was set on my stations and not his CDs. My morning routine had changed. Forever. And I lost it. I cried. I missed my muppet. I missed the crazy singing and laughter that filled my morning commutes. This day was going to be rough...

As the day went on I sat and looked up at the clock what seemed like every five mins. Thinking. "He's at recess right now." "Now he's at lunch." "Specials." "Being picked up." That little gift that worked so to my advantage had backfired on me... Brutally. All I wanted to do is rush to his day care and hear about the wonderment that filled his day and see his glowing little smile. What I got.... well? It went something a little like this...

Walking into the day care Ethan spies me and runs up all half smiles. We hug and I ask in the most bouncing voice I can muster how his day was.

"Mommy. I. I have to tell you something."

"What is that muppet?" with one eye brow raised because you never know what that comment will get you.

"Today was my last day. I'm never going back there."

In those two little sentences I could feel my heart break and begin to separate. This is my muppet and it was more than obvious that he didn't have a good day. The car ride home was filled with rear view glances and me wanting to talk to him about this, but I also knew this was a conversation that needed to be had over some milk and cookies.

When we got home we sat on the stairs and talked. The best part about the relationship Ethan and I have is most of the time he feels free to express all that is on his mind and I treasure that so much. He told me how no one played with him at recess, he didn't understand the computer class and how he didn't have any friends in his class and felt alone.

Alone - the magic word. I loath that word. Alone is what you are when there is no one looking after you or your benefit. Alone is a horrible feeling that I spent many a months dwelling over the concept and the one emotion that I vowed never to let my child feel. It was in those moments that I explained how I felt about this day. No I didn't go into how I missed his dad, but I did explain to him that I was scared too. That each and every day I "look after you".

I look after his fears, worries and concerns and that his job is to let me know how he feels and what I can do to help him. That I look after each little detail in his life and I would always be there for him even if he can't see me or touch me. I will always look after him because the bond we have is so great. We then worked on formulating a plan to make this new transition not so scary for him. We assigned him buddies from neighbor friends to walk into the school building with. And how he can make friends with the children in his class. And I'm happy to say that school is now for him an exciting place to go and our conversations are filled with "I can't wait till...." and not "that was my last day."

I know all parents have a hard time when their kids start school - single parent or not. It's hard. Hard because as parents we all want to look after our child and ensure that they are taken care of. I praise all the parents that sent their kids off to school for the first time, first day and even with first new transitions from middle school, to high school, to college. Just because they grow, their little gifts of slowing down times keeps them young in our hearts for us to look after. Pax to you all. :)

Running For Our Lives

2011-08-16T19:10:00.000-07:00

This is the time of year where it gets close to the close of another year since Christopher passed. The first September after he passed was rough remembering the milestones of getting the phone call that life was going to change as we knew it. Explaining to the one I loved that while he had so much hope that would fill the world three times over it wasn't enough to keep him here on this mortal plain.

September became that month that could fall off my calendar and I wouldn't ever care; in fact I think I would have preferred for it to just disappear all together and those memories wiped from certain parts of my mind. But then again that's completely impossible and as I have discovered it's when we don't face the things we fear is when we lose our selves into the deepest darkest parts of our minds and as we all know that's not the healthiest way of dealing with them.

Then last year I was able to participate in a run that was a turning point in my life. One song into this 5k run my iPod died and I was left to my own thoughts for the next 3 something miles... ugh... But God had a plan that the iPod needed to die so he and I could have a talk and I was able to leave allot on that track and yet pick up the pieces of me that I didn't know I had left behind. It was so moving. To be honest I'm not really sure I can even put into words what it meant in the way that would do it justice. That day when I got home Ethan was full of questions. Why did I run? Where did I run? Did I know that Daddy was on my shirt? I won't lie knowing his curiosity for what I just done; I knew that this year I would try and make him a part of it.

So this year as I trained for my run on the treadmill (yeah, for those who don't know Dallas has been in the triple digits for a crazy amount of days) I let Ethan be apart of my training. I would put on one of his shows and we would race! Well, now let me explain the race. I tried to finish my run before his show was over. It worked great until he wanted apple juice or crackers during the run (those were the days that I lost). But I also talked to him about why his Mommy was running (and let him pose with my shoes). I explained that children are going through the same thing his dad went through and "we" need to help them the best way we know how. And this month it's through this run.

For those of you who don't know much about Heroes For Children; I encourage you to take some time and read about them and what they do for families dealing with childhood cancers. I also ask that if you are able to please donate to this wonderful charity. This year anyone who donates to my page will be put into a raffle to have the chance to win a top of their choice from BackPocket Sports. I will also like to add that if you would like me to run in the memory of someone or in the honor of someone I would be more than happy! Just comment with who and why and I will wear a band around my wrist with their name so they can run this with me and remind people that it's not about the one, but the many.

I would like to close this with a thank you to all my readers who give me strength and courage to push through the day and better myself. Pax to you all.