califmom

BlogHer '10: Ready Or Not, Here I Come

2010-07-31T16:28:12-07:00

It’s that time of year. Oh, yes it is. I’ve been fashioning tutus for the 5K. Tina, Jenny and I are going to be smokin’ hawt for the Tutus for Tanner/BlogHer 5K we’ll be walking/running in NYC.

But, a bigger part of BlogHer ‘10, especially this year, will be seeing the people who’ve been such a huge part of my life this past year. Holy hell. Y’all have been the shit! I wish there were twenty of me to do all of the hugging I want to do when I get to New York. (As an aside, I suck butt at remembering names with faces or even just the names. So, please don’t take it personally if I look at you like a wall-eyed freak when you tell me who you are. I do the same thing to people I’ve known for ten years. Seriously.)

The BlogHer community continues to be a huge source of support for me and my family. Devra Renner’s piece on BlogHer today was just another example of how BlogHer has been a part of my life this year. While she talks in the article about me being an inspiration, the greater message is the one I want people to take away—we need to talk about death. We need to make it part of our culture in the same way that we talk about birth. It doesn’t have to be taboo. Death happens. It doesn’t have to be shoved in the corner.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a unicorn horn to pack.

(But, I’m totally leaving that sack of a top at home. Who the hell let me wear that?)

Every Penny

2010-07-29T19:38:00-07:00

We’re told not to talk about the money. It’s bad form. Poor manners. But, it’s killing me.

I don’t want it. I want my husband.

I want a father to walk my daughter down the aisle when she gets married.

I want the man who told me he loved me every day.

I want my son to have his dad.

I want him back.

I don’t want the money.

I don’t want any of it.

I’d give it all away, every last penny, to have him back.

Comparing Pain: Are You Grieving Wrong?

2010-07-27T21:19:52-07:00

Pain: It’s not a contest. You can’t make it one, or you’ll lose. You’ll lose yourself, your friends, your reason for being. Nobody likes a martyr.

You also can’t invalidate your pain. It’s real. It’s yours. You have to own it. Not wallow in it, but know that it’s yours and real. You may have to remind yourself.

I have a friend who recently broke up with her boyfriend. She feels like her pain isn’t as great as mine. I think that’s bullshit. Pain is pain. It hurts. It may not hurt her for as long, but I don’t know that for sure. How can I? It’s not my pain. It’s hers.

That’s the thing. Don’t let someone else dictate your grief. It might come in waves that cycle in minutes or days or weeks. It’s not about doing it right, following the rules of grieving, or fitting into someone else’s prescribed formula for what they did, or how it’s supposed to look.

If you see me laugh, it’s not because I’m done grieving. You don’t know that I spent the morning crying because I miss my husband more than I can bear. Going on living, it doesn’t mean you stop grieving.

In the same way that I can love both of my children in different ways, I can grieve for my spouse who’s gone, and move on with the life I want to live. Two passions can exist in one person. They aren’t mutually exclusive and they aren’t conflicting. Both require my energy, but there’s a balance.