Maya had been begging to 'borrow' another movie from Blockbuster. She had a royal fit the last time we rented a movie and had to return it. Basically, she doesn't get this renting movies thing. However, she had been asking so we went by Blockbuster.
As is fitting, Maya chose a Barbie movie and Bambie which she had never seen. This is when the unintentional experiment began.
At the check out counter I stood holding Owen while Maya handed our chosen movies over when the clerk questioned one of my choices. I had not even heard of the movie so I was easily swayed. The clerk's next question startled me.
Holding the movie I chose he asked,"Is this for you and your husband to watch?" That morning I had forgotten to put my wedding ring on after my shower. Of course people assume I am married when I wear it but at that moment I realized that just having my young children with me causes others to assume I have a husband.
I just stood there for a minute and could immediately tell the clerk was alarmed. Lacking social graces these days, I blurted out "I don't have a husband. He's dead." Yikes!! The clerk flushed, apologized, back peddled, offered condolences. I apologized profusely and told him not to feel bad. Really, I could have just said no,I don't have a husband, but I was not expecting the question and just blurted out perhaps an blatantly, inappropriate answer.
This conversation took place in the wake of an equally unappealing question at the doctor's office. The check-in line was long because of a new computer system. When it was my turn, the first question I was asked was "What is your marital status?" Once again I was silent long enough that the receptionist looked up at me. I weakly smiled and said "Widow." As she saw my mouth open, she looked down at her computer to record my answer but sharply looked up at me before striking a key. And she said "What?" I suppose I could have stated that I was single; that would have been an easy way around the answer however I am not quick on my feet these days. I told her I am indeed a widow and she finally looked down to record my answer, flushing from her own faux pas.
I know people are well intentioned. I know that I am indeed young and my being a widow is abnormal. I know that people are going to ask and be shocked. I know that this will not be the last conversation I will have about widowhood.
Simply, I hope it becomes less painful and more easily anticipated.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Mortgage Visits
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| July 3, 2010 (I have posted this one before...but I love it) |
On Saturday morning I got up and read my email to find a message from a girl who is an acquaintance from over the years. Our paths have crossed on and off from attending high school together to meeting up at a mommy's group then she refinanced our mortgage while her husband redid the siding on my house. I have seen her many times over the past 3 years though Chris never actually met her in person.
The previous night this girl, OK so she's technically a woman, had a dream about Chris and me and...our mortgage. Weird, right? She emailed the next morning because she felt like Chris was asking her to check to see if I needed any help getting our house documents in order.
The night she had the dream I had written a post about feeling like there was a lack of communication from the other side so I had stopped asking for the reassurance. She had not read my blog until after she had the dream and woke up thinking about us.
In the end, who knows, right? I found it intriguing and it made me really think about the way our universe works. Since Chris' death I have done a great amount of reading in regard to the other side and spiritual beliefs as well as spirit communication. The jury really is still out on whether I believe Chris is able to communicate with us. However, this experience has me once again questioning the possibility. This is especially in light of the fact this same girl felt she had visits from a former co-worker who passed away several years ago. I suppose it begs the question, does Chris know she had a former visit? Did he see this as a way to communicate because he knew she felt strongly about her previous experiences? If only the answers were so easy to ascertain.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Weekends
At 7:15 a.m. I heard Owen talking to himself in his crib. For just a moment I tried to remember what day it was and then I thought...."oh yeah, it's just Saturday. Blah."
Rewind.
I LOVED Saturday. On Saturday mornings Chris would get up with Owen and Maya so I could sleep in. I really didn't sleep in, I just laid there, cozy in my covers until one of my kiddos sought me out. But, I loved that me time. Chris made coffee, played with Owen, got breakfast on the table and started everything going for the day. One morning I was free to go at my own pace.
Fastforward.
Sleeping In? My parents have kept my kiddos a couple nights so I could have some me time, but it's not the same as those previous Saturdays. Instead those mornings are quiet, secluded, a bit lonely. This morning I just groaned knowing there isn't anything on our agenda on the weekends. People are out running errands and home with their families.
We used to live for the weekends now I feel like we try to get through them so we can get back to interacting with people and going our regular places where we feel like a normal part of society.
Someday, I will look forward to Saturday again.
Rewind.
I LOVED Saturday. On Saturday mornings Chris would get up with Owen and Maya so I could sleep in. I really didn't sleep in, I just laid there, cozy in my covers until one of my kiddos sought me out. But, I loved that me time. Chris made coffee, played with Owen, got breakfast on the table and started everything going for the day. One morning I was free to go at my own pace.
Fastforward.
Sleeping In? My parents have kept my kiddos a couple nights so I could have some me time, but it's not the same as those previous Saturdays. Instead those mornings are quiet, secluded, a bit lonely. This morning I just groaned knowing there isn't anything on our agenda on the weekends. People are out running errands and home with their families.
We used to live for the weekends now I feel like we try to get through them so we can get back to interacting with people and going our regular places where we feel like a normal part of society.
Someday, I will look forward to Saturday again.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Dizzy Spells
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| January 2010 |
Again with the spinning.
It's akin to being dizzy. Remember that game where you spin around with your head on a baseball bat (the other end resting on the ground) then try to run to a specified destination? That's fairly close to how I feel today. Just when I think, ok, this is good, it dawns on me that it totally sucks and that this is some crazy charade.
I had felt it today but wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because my phone didn't ring all day or I really didn't get any texts. Maybe I was feeling lonely and disconnected. Or maybe I was just feeling 'it'. I spend most days reminding myself that though I have loads of people buoying us up, that it isn't their responsibility to call me between the gym and the grocery store or to even read my blog. I try to imagine what it's like on the other side of this situation, as the friend or family member but really I don't have a clue.
After naps, I was singing "Three Little Birds" with Owen in the kitchen while fixing dinner and Maya told me that Chris would always touch her nose three times when he sang the line "This is my message to you ou ou" on the you part. I didn't know that. I don't remember ever actually watching him sing to her; I could hear him from the living room though. It was a momentary reassurance that she has some concrete memories and that they are not just things I am remembering for her. I feel this enormous responsibility in becoming the memory keeper.
Then I read Chris' Facebook page. The funny thing is that I had just been on Facebook reading an email from an amazing friend from college who told me to call if I needed to do the 'ugly cry.' At that moment I was thinking, nah, I'm good tonight. I looked at my email then looked back at Facebook for a minute to see Chris' page and there it was, several posts asking him what he is doing, what the other side is like, what is happening. All questions I have asked repeatedly. The funny things is that I had given up a few weeks ago asking these questions or requesting he reassure me he's OK and that we will be OK. Nothing was coming and it felt fruitless so .... I let it go. And I really did, let it go. Then I forgot to keep asking. And now...the ugly cry commences. Maybe my friend knew...
The good thing about the ugly cry? It's short lived. I don't cry for extended periods though I feel like I 'should'. Like it's my widow duty to cry the correct amount of time in the correct way. I even found myself feeling guilty this week that I was feeling good...better than I had been in the past 10 weeks. This widow thing is hard...what an understatement.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Silence
Tonight my ears are ringing. It's 10:03 p.m. and I am sitting in bed not because I am tired but because I am bored and was lacking anything else to do.
I guess this is the dilemma.
Today began with two crying kids. Uber whiny. I was going to try to make it to the gym but instead dove head first into cutting Owen's hair which had not been cut since the Monday before Chris died. Ten weeks. I have to say, my second try was better than my first.
The most often uttered phrase of the day? It was "Just a second and I will come play with you." Man, I hate that. Unfortunately, today I needed to scrub the kid's bathroom, empty garbage cans, call Social Security, get a pension form notarized, call the UA pension office to figure out what I really qualify for in 21 years, call to cancel something, and pay some bills. In my old life, I would do a few things and leave the rest for when a second adult arrived home to wrangle kids. Now, there is no time like the present because it needs to get done and there is just me.
There is JUST me.
This realization always sucks...especially when I am on hold with the social security office because the automated system booted me back through three times and I cussed at it. Apparently, cussing sends you right to a representative. I laughed aloud when the representative reminded me I am supposed to use my children's funds for monthly food, clothing, etc. and not put it in savings. Um, huh? She noted she had to tell me that because I was changing all of our accounts to direct deposit into my checking account. Of course, I waited to call until Owen was down knowing it would be a long phone call. Unfortunately Maya chose the moment the representative answered to ask for a banana then throw a fit because I told her to wait.
By the time bedtime for the kids comes at 8 p.m. I am unusually awake. So odd since I spend the day exhausted. However, trying to find entertainment for the night drives me nuts. Instead I do idle things and waste time. Honestly, what I miss most about the evenings with Chris are the conversations we would have. He loved to play devils advocate for everything, mostly to get me riled up. I miss that.
So, here I am at 10:15 p.m., wide awake, wondering what to do. If I begin to collect cats to talk to, please stage an intervention.
I guess this is the dilemma.
Today began with two crying kids. Uber whiny. I was going to try to make it to the gym but instead dove head first into cutting Owen's hair which had not been cut since the Monday before Chris died. Ten weeks. I have to say, my second try was better than my first.
The most often uttered phrase of the day? It was "Just a second and I will come play with you." Man, I hate that. Unfortunately, today I needed to scrub the kid's bathroom, empty garbage cans, call Social Security, get a pension form notarized, call the UA pension office to figure out what I really qualify for in 21 years, call to cancel something, and pay some bills. In my old life, I would do a few things and leave the rest for when a second adult arrived home to wrangle kids. Now, there is no time like the present because it needs to get done and there is just me.
There is JUST me.
This realization always sucks...especially when I am on hold with the social security office because the automated system booted me back through three times and I cussed at it. Apparently, cussing sends you right to a representative. I laughed aloud when the representative reminded me I am supposed to use my children's funds for monthly food, clothing, etc. and not put it in savings. Um, huh? She noted she had to tell me that because I was changing all of our accounts to direct deposit into my checking account. Of course, I waited to call until Owen was down knowing it would be a long phone call. Unfortunately Maya chose the moment the representative answered to ask for a banana then throw a fit because I told her to wait.
By the time bedtime for the kids comes at 8 p.m. I am unusually awake. So odd since I spend the day exhausted. However, trying to find entertainment for the night drives me nuts. Instead I do idle things and waste time. Honestly, what I miss most about the evenings with Chris are the conversations we would have. He loved to play devils advocate for everything, mostly to get me riled up. I miss that.
So, here I am at 10:15 p.m., wide awake, wondering what to do. If I begin to collect cats to talk to, please stage an intervention.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The Widening Gyre
Today I turned onto Highway 9 after dropping Maya off and preschool and had this sinking feeling. The other shoe....it's going to drop. Owen and I had been rocking out in the car on our way to pick up a few groceries when I had this realization.
Am I spinning, spiraling out of control and I just don't realize it?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
William Butler Yeats; The Second Coming
I have been able to travel through the past 5 days fairly confidently with the usual hiccups one would experience with two small children. Feeling good about what we are doing, who we are with, how we are all coping emotionally had felt great. But then, I wondered if I am at the peak of a major descent. Usually I sense it coming but right now, I don't. This scare me.
While I feel like I am pulling things together with myself, the house, the kids, I still feel like I am so easily injured by the things around me. Yet, I constantly stop and listen to myself again apologizing to someone for something not in my control or theirs. Why do I feel like always apologizing? Today I apologized for asking the man stocking produce if they had any bananas that were more ripe. It wasn't even clear to me why I felt sorry but I was apologizing for taking him away for what he was doing. Perhaps it's just that. I feel like we have lost our normal world and been enveloped by other peoples generosity yet it leaves me feeling bad that our lives have altered theirs.
I am questioning if I am just ignorant to what the heck I am doing. Spending so much time analyzing my life, the kids lives, the impact our lives have on other people, other people's impact on our lives, and trying to invision where this is leading us is consuming.
I know, so don't, right? If you are a widow you know it's easier said than done. Not thinking about the conundrum leaves me feeling idle. Feeling idle makes me feel overwhelming sadness which in turn leaves me feeling listless and lacking direction. It is impossible for me to just be.
It's only been two months...ten weeks tomorrow morning since my life changed completely. There is a definite crossroad in my future but I am just not certain what it is, how to get there or what my choice should be once it's placed before me.
Seventy days; had you asked me on day two if I would make it this far I am fairly certain I would have said no, but I have no choice but to make it. I still feel like there is no other choice.
Am I spinning, spiraling out of control and I just don't realize it?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
William Butler Yeats; The Second Coming
I have been able to travel through the past 5 days fairly confidently with the usual hiccups one would experience with two small children. Feeling good about what we are doing, who we are with, how we are all coping emotionally had felt great. But then, I wondered if I am at the peak of a major descent. Usually I sense it coming but right now, I don't. This scare me.
While I feel like I am pulling things together with myself, the house, the kids, I still feel like I am so easily injured by the things around me. Yet, I constantly stop and listen to myself again apologizing to someone for something not in my control or theirs. Why do I feel like always apologizing? Today I apologized for asking the man stocking produce if they had any bananas that were more ripe. It wasn't even clear to me why I felt sorry but I was apologizing for taking him away for what he was doing. Perhaps it's just that. I feel like we have lost our normal world and been enveloped by other peoples generosity yet it leaves me feeling bad that our lives have altered theirs.
I am questioning if I am just ignorant to what the heck I am doing. Spending so much time analyzing my life, the kids lives, the impact our lives have on other people, other people's impact on our lives, and trying to invision where this is leading us is consuming.
I know, so don't, right? If you are a widow you know it's easier said than done. Not thinking about the conundrum leaves me feeling idle. Feeling idle makes me feel overwhelming sadness which in turn leaves me feeling listless and lacking direction. It is impossible for me to just be.
It's only been two months...ten weeks tomorrow morning since my life changed completely. There is a definite crossroad in my future but I am just not certain what it is, how to get there or what my choice should be once it's placed before me.
Seventy days; had you asked me on day two if I would make it this far I am fairly certain I would have said no, but I have no choice but to make it. I still feel like there is no other choice.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Owen is 18 Months!!!
Statistics:
Height: 33.5 inches
Weight: 27 lbs 9.6 oz
Bed Time: between 7:45 & 8 p.m.
Wakes Up: Between 6:15 & 7:15 a.m.
Can Say: Uh Oh, Yogurt, Hi, Bye bye, Momma, Dada, Papa, More, Nana...but mostly grunts
Signs: banana, more, eat, milk, drink, bath, please, thank you, cracker, dog, fish, waves hi and bye
Favorite Toy: a cell phone....mostly grandma's
Sleeps With: fleece Toy Story blanket
Favorite Activity: bath time
Favorite Foods: bananas, yogurt, fruit crisps, pancakes, mac n cheese
Favorite Songs: If You're Happy, All The Single Ladies (chipmunks...), Dynamite, The Bigger the Better
The Facts
* Likes to play hide-n-seek; will sit covering his eyes while I count
* 'sings' (hums) along to lots of songs like ABC's, Just Breathe, If You're Happy
* Can do all the actions to If You're Happy mostly at the right times
* Uses Cally's extra skin as a handle
* Easily distributes hugs and kisses
* Has made his first 'real' friend (Brody)...they have played in the same room for a long time and now are happy to see each other and try to interact
* Tries to brush his hair and his teeth
* Climbs EVERYTHING, incessantly
* Mimics Maya...good and bad
* Likes to 'help' carry things, put things away, etc.
* Started swim 'lesson' and loved it!
* Has all of his teeth including his 1st year molars
* Plays well independently or alone with Maya
* Throws a wicked tantrum
* Wakes up happy in the morning
* Loves picking Maya up from preschool
* Follows lots of simple directions like throwing things in the garbage
* Is almost really running
* Tries to put his own shoes on.
I will update his stats once we hit up the pediatrician next week. Oh...and a picture :)
Height: 33.5 inches
Weight: 27 lbs 9.6 oz
Bed Time: between 7:45 & 8 p.m.
Wakes Up: Between 6:15 & 7:15 a.m.
Can Say: Uh Oh, Yogurt, Hi, Bye bye, Momma, Dada, Papa, More, Nana...but mostly grunts
Signs: banana, more, eat, milk, drink, bath, please, thank you, cracker, dog, fish, waves hi and bye
Favorite Toy: a cell phone....mostly grandma's
Sleeps With: fleece Toy Story blanket
Favorite Activity: bath time
Favorite Foods: bananas, yogurt, fruit crisps, pancakes, mac n cheese
Favorite Songs: If You're Happy, All The Single Ladies (chipmunks...), Dynamite, The Bigger the Better
The Facts
* Likes to play hide-n-seek; will sit covering his eyes while I count
* 'sings' (hums) along to lots of songs like ABC's, Just Breathe, If You're Happy
* Can do all the actions to If You're Happy mostly at the right times
* Uses Cally's extra skin as a handle
* Easily distributes hugs and kisses
* Has made his first 'real' friend (Brody)...they have played in the same room for a long time and now are happy to see each other and try to interact
* Tries to brush his hair and his teeth
* Climbs EVERYTHING, incessantly
* Mimics Maya...good and bad
* Likes to 'help' carry things, put things away, etc.
* Started swim 'lesson' and loved it!
* Has all of his teeth including his 1st year molars
* Plays well independently or alone with Maya
* Throws a wicked tantrum
* Wakes up happy in the morning
* Loves picking Maya up from preschool
* Follows lots of simple directions like throwing things in the garbage
* Is almost really running
* Tries to put his own shoes on.
I will update his stats once we hit up the pediatrician next week. Oh...and a picture :)
Steady
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| July 2009 |
The past four days have been fairly steady....knock on wood. Occasionally the floodgates open and I feel bombarded by emotions but for the most part the waves have momentarily subsided and I am so grateful. Of course, I was thinking just that when I went into Maya's room after she had gone to sleep. She forgot her baby doll downstairs so I promised to bring him to bed once she was asleep. Standing at her beside I smiled at my baby girl who had a faint smile on her own face. I tucked her baby into bed and as I turned Maya said "oh daddy....". Stopping in my tracks I looked over at her. She readjusted in bed and was quiet again. In my head I wondered...is she dreaming, does he visit her, is it possible? Thankfully Maya has been quite steady too. We talk about Chris and the funny things he used to do. She goes through his stuff and has a few favorite items (some poker chips and his business cards) but mostly we just talk about how great he was. Honestly, I always knew he was funny but Maya is just really learning what funny is so she is fascinated by things he said and did. Sharing those stories with her has become a favorite pastime of ours. The pang of sadness enveloped my heart as I left Maya's room. Listening to your baby girl talk about her daddy in her sleep is heart wrenching.
Feeling like life has momentarily steadied has given me time to process a few things. Tonight I feel grateful for having traveled this far with Chris. If I were to make a list of things I learned from him about life and about myself it would take up this entire blog. In the end, Chris taught me to love. He showed me through the way he lived how to be patient and forgiving. I don't think those are two of my strong suits but I am trying! Chris also showed me how to laugh, I mean really laugh. He was so funny and always smiling. Man, how I miss that smile and the glimmer in those eyes. I am thankful for a few peace filled moments to process a few things about this new life and my former. No, the rocky shoreline has not evened to warm sand but, for a moment, I feel steady on my feet again.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Guilty
Last Thursday I had the best conversation a former English teacher/stay at home momma could have with her 3 1/2 year old. Maya wanted to know who Juliet was! Granted this was an offshoot from listening to a little Taylor Swift but I had butterflies in my stomach. Not only did I get to tell her about Romeo and Juliet but we also talked about plays and Shakespeare as well as the Elizabethan era. Ok, no, it was not in depth but man, did I love that conversation. Maybe preschoolers should really be my target audience for teaching Shakespeare?
This conversation took place after several days of random ugly crying. Basically I didn't feel too desolate however I would suddenly just cry. It was startling to me too. I even stood in Zumba trying not to cry and started to wondering why I couldn't hold it together in public and retain these moments for the privacy of my own home or at least the car. Heck, I'd even take a restroom stall.
I am pretty sure I poured salt in my gaping wound by renting the movie Dear John. It is slightly masochistic but I seem to continually rent these romantic movies. Sadly, I was incredibly jealous of the love story and it made me long for my love story.
Though sadly out of sequence, this post, I will have you know that by Wednesday my kidlets were making me a bit batty. Maya and Owen have started....fighting. Basically Maya fights with Owen and he either yells or grunts back, sometimes throwing himself to the floor or marching up to me to scream and point back to Maya. Eventually I sequestered Maya to her room so the kids could have space. It is in moments like that where I begin to question why the second parent is in heaven and not here physically shouldering some of the parenting. Wow. Thank God my mom was able to come by because I was looney by noon.
My combination of random crying, salt, fighting kids, and Shakespeare created a wicked cocktail. Come Friday my parents took the kids for the night and I went shopping for running shoes. Of course, it couldn't be a carefree evening, instead I stopped at the mailbox where I unearthed a condolence card, a birthday card, an 'I love you, you're doing awesome' card and Chris' new debit card. The bank doesn't know he's dead. I spend so much time preparing myself for the big stuff...Wednesday mornings, month 'anniversaries', holidays and celebrations, etc. I don't have an internal dialogue for getting the mail yet but I am beginning to see perhaps I need to give myself a pep talk before I open the box.
Lucky for me, I had a good friend call me why I was out shopping for shoes. Insistence is really the only way I participate in things outside of my normal bubble or routine. A few weeks back I decided I was doing so well that I could venture 'out.' Bad idea. I got antsy, nauseous, nervous. Back to the story. There was insistence. The kids were gone so after awhile I agreed. Unfortunately I had to drive 35 minutes and during that drive I looked at every off ramp wondering if I should turn around. My desire to try to act 'normal' outweighed my desire to return to my den and hibernate. In the end.....(insert drum roll)....I had ....fun. I played with a super cute 17 month old, drank my second glass of wine since Chris' passing, played Kinect and indulged in a little escapism. Of course, my life is never far from my immediate attention. In then end, I had a great time and cannot believe I just typed those words. Or course, coming home to my empty house, cold bed and lonely dog just reinforced my status in life but for a few minutes I felt like...me. And then, that realization made me feel guilty.
This conversation took place after several days of random ugly crying. Basically I didn't feel too desolate however I would suddenly just cry. It was startling to me too. I even stood in Zumba trying not to cry and started to wondering why I couldn't hold it together in public and retain these moments for the privacy of my own home or at least the car. Heck, I'd even take a restroom stall.
I am pretty sure I poured salt in my gaping wound by renting the movie Dear John. It is slightly masochistic but I seem to continually rent these romantic movies. Sadly, I was incredibly jealous of the love story and it made me long for my love story.
Though sadly out of sequence, this post, I will have you know that by Wednesday my kidlets were making me a bit batty. Maya and Owen have started....fighting. Basically Maya fights with Owen and he either yells or grunts back, sometimes throwing himself to the floor or marching up to me to scream and point back to Maya. Eventually I sequestered Maya to her room so the kids could have space. It is in moments like that where I begin to question why the second parent is in heaven and not here physically shouldering some of the parenting. Wow. Thank God my mom was able to come by because I was looney by noon.
My combination of random crying, salt, fighting kids, and Shakespeare created a wicked cocktail. Come Friday my parents took the kids for the night and I went shopping for running shoes. Of course, it couldn't be a carefree evening, instead I stopped at the mailbox where I unearthed a condolence card, a birthday card, an 'I love you, you're doing awesome' card and Chris' new debit card. The bank doesn't know he's dead. I spend so much time preparing myself for the big stuff...Wednesday mornings, month 'anniversaries', holidays and celebrations, etc. I don't have an internal dialogue for getting the mail yet but I am beginning to see perhaps I need to give myself a pep talk before I open the box.
Lucky for me, I had a good friend call me why I was out shopping for shoes. Insistence is really the only way I participate in things outside of my normal bubble or routine. A few weeks back I decided I was doing so well that I could venture 'out.' Bad idea. I got antsy, nauseous, nervous. Back to the story. There was insistence. The kids were gone so after awhile I agreed. Unfortunately I had to drive 35 minutes and during that drive I looked at every off ramp wondering if I should turn around. My desire to try to act 'normal' outweighed my desire to return to my den and hibernate. In the end.....(insert drum roll)....I had ....fun. I played with a super cute 17 month old, drank my second glass of wine since Chris' passing, played Kinect and indulged in a little escapism. Of course, my life is never far from my immediate attention. In then end, I had a great time and cannot believe I just typed those words. Or course, coming home to my empty house, cold bed and lonely dog just reinforced my status in life but for a few minutes I felt like...me. And then, that realization made me feel guilty.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Smiling
On the way to Maya's swim lessons we were listening to this song which brought back a flood of memories. This song, if you knew Chris at all, will surprise you. It was on his IPod. He knew all the words, or at least most of them. The best part about this song is remembering Chris and Maya dancing around our living room, both singing the words at the tops of their lungs all the while giggling and laughing at themselves. Today, the song that brought about the strongest memories of Chris did not bring tears but a smile which I very much felt I could use today while being battered by single parenthood.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Keep Me In Your Heart
I am ever amazed at how my moods, emotions, ideas and drive vacillates from moment to moment without bother to single imminent change.
Putting Maya to bed tonight had me alternating between giggling and pensive self-analysis.
I read Maya a bible story on my Nook tonight...The Creation. She loved it especially in light of her recent appreciation of prayer and communication with God. Tonight she wanted God to tell daddy she loves him. It was also the first night in awhile where, during her prayer, she did not ask God to send daddy back. The most difficult part of this request is the obligatory conversation we have post prayer in which I reaffirm the fact that she knows daddy cannot come back. Immediately I curse my life because I loathe being in the position to have this conversation at all. Nevertheless, she loved the story but what followed was a series of questions that made me think, laugh and hug my sweet girl.
First up was "Mommy, are there kids in heaven." Oy! Of course, I give the honest answer then followed it up with the fact that we all came from heaven and will return there once we are done on Earth. This insight lead to a short conversation about my to-be-born niece Amelia. Maya told me all about how Amelia punches from inside Auntie Trisha's belly. From the punching we transitioned to talk about when Amelia is set to be born (around Easter which is subsequently Maya's birthday this year). Then...the question: Do babies poof out of their mommy's belly? Ummmmm. Yes?!?! I wish?!?! Ok, so I gave her the honest answer, thinking about this same conversation my pregnant sister-in-law had with her 4 year old recently. Of course Maya interrupted in giggles and wanted more information. I am pretty sure I terrified Maya who then told me she doesn't want to have any babies, she just wanted a couple sisters. Pretty sure that ain't happenin'.
Leaving Maya's room I was still smiling. In between a text message, eating the last piece of birthday cake and trying to figure out what to write on an 18 month update about Owen for my blog, I suddenly felt...blech. The sudden left turn started when I decided to download Social Distortion's new album for my IPod. While moving the songs into my folder on ITunes, I saw the Warren Zevon song, "Keep Me in Your Heart." That's when it happens, the pain. So, here for you is the song that is bringing tears to my eyes tonight.
Putting Maya to bed tonight had me alternating between giggling and pensive self-analysis.
I read Maya a bible story on my Nook tonight...The Creation. She loved it especially in light of her recent appreciation of prayer and communication with God. Tonight she wanted God to tell daddy she loves him. It was also the first night in awhile where, during her prayer, she did not ask God to send daddy back. The most difficult part of this request is the obligatory conversation we have post prayer in which I reaffirm the fact that she knows daddy cannot come back. Immediately I curse my life because I loathe being in the position to have this conversation at all. Nevertheless, she loved the story but what followed was a series of questions that made me think, laugh and hug my sweet girl.
First up was "Mommy, are there kids in heaven." Oy! Of course, I give the honest answer then followed it up with the fact that we all came from heaven and will return there once we are done on Earth. This insight lead to a short conversation about my to-be-born niece Amelia. Maya told me all about how Amelia punches from inside Auntie Trisha's belly. From the punching we transitioned to talk about when Amelia is set to be born (around Easter which is subsequently Maya's birthday this year). Then...the question: Do babies poof out of their mommy's belly? Ummmmm. Yes?!?! I wish?!?! Ok, so I gave her the honest answer, thinking about this same conversation my pregnant sister-in-law had with her 4 year old recently. Of course Maya interrupted in giggles and wanted more information. I am pretty sure I terrified Maya who then told me she doesn't want to have any babies, she just wanted a couple sisters. Pretty sure that ain't happenin'.
Leaving Maya's room I was still smiling. In between a text message, eating the last piece of birthday cake and trying to figure out what to write on an 18 month update about Owen for my blog, I suddenly felt...blech. The sudden left turn started when I decided to download Social Distortion's new album for my IPod. While moving the songs into my folder on ITunes, I saw the Warren Zevon song, "Keep Me in Your Heart." That's when it happens, the pain. So, here for you is the song that is bringing tears to my eyes tonight.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Two Months
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| 12/06 Arc de Triomphe |
Today was a normal day. Now when you read that last sentence you must read it with the understanding that my scale of 'normal' used to be my scale of cruddy. This day was a little higher on the scale of cruddy.
Both of the kids have had colds and Maya woke up at 2:30 a.m. when her cough medicine wore off thus she found her way to my bed. I have never been a co-sleeper. It was a rule Chris and I had: our bed was OURS. However, it was nice to have the noise of another person next to me for a change. Her soft snore, her warm little feet on my side, the giggle she let out in her sleep. Usually I would take her back to her bed once she fell back to sleep but last night I let her stay. I did fear, however, that Owen would wake up early and I'd have a happy toddler and a grumpy preschooler to keep me company at 6 a.m. Luckily Owen slept in. This morning the three of us snuggled in my bed and I kept thinking that if the two month anniversary of Chris' death was going to come, I was glad it started with my babies snuggled in my bed.
So, I suppose the question is what happens next? I ask myself this bloated question over and over.
I have managed to slightly define my beliefs. I can feel my life being guided; people reach out to me at times I truly need the hand up. In the end, I believe that those who cross over are still here. At moments, I am reassured by this thought. During the 'witching hour' this thought makes me angry and I demand signs, demand Chris go to Maya in her dreams to help her, demand I be allowed to feel his presence. Logically, I know it doesn't work this way however late at night, I feel like I have the right to demand these but truly it's just an ugly moment of self pity.
Tonight I watched an episode of "How I Met Your Mother". Initially I saw it on my recordings and flipped past it. It was a show Chris and I always waited to watch together. However, I sat down to write on the blog and instead decided I would divulge in a little procrastination first. The question driving the episode was, what do you want your last words to be. Can you see the blinking neon sign now?
If you read my first blog about Chris' death, you know we had a conversation that morning. Prior to the last conversation he joked with me about elbowing him out of the way to get at the coffee. Always joking around, that boy. During our last conversation I remember looking at his frumpled hair, thinking how cute he always looked sleepy, hair messed, old t-shirt on. I remember the smile on his face and he watched goofy Owen walking around the living room. He looked so happy and I sat concentrating on that face, that smile, the twinkle in those eyes. Honestly, his last words were "Ok, I'm going to go shower so we can get going." During sad moments I wish we had said more. It was a normal morning...what else would he have said? I know I was meant to remember those last moments of happiness. Juxtaposed with the events of the following hour of my life, it has taken these moments two months to shake the dust and shine in my memory.
Two months feels like two weeks. I wonder what six months will feel like. Today, I feel like I am surviving and that is good enough for now. I found myself at the same class at the gym that I attended two days before he died and it left me thinking about our last night there, Maya at swim, catching a late night class. The instructor played a new song called "My First Kiss" that night. I remember thinking about my and Chris' first kiss and that in itself let butterflies go in my stomach and made me smile about the man I love.
It was a moment I said to myself "I really do love him this much." And, I do. Always, always, always.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Birthday
I woke up this morning thinking about my first birthday celebrated since Chris died. Today was the day and I had been mentally preparing for it. Honestly, I just wanted the day to pass quickly, not be too painful and for me to 'come out of it' fairly unscathed.
For my first birthday with Chris, my 27th, he bought us airline tickets to go to Disneyland. For my 33rd birthday, the last we celebrated together, he spent three days making a banana cream pie and we picked up take out from one of our favorite restaurants, Alligator Soul, because the kids both had colds.
Today as I celebrate my 34th birthday, almost two months after Chris' death, I was reminiscent about the way he spoiled me relentlessly. Maya picked out a cake on Thursday which my mom ordered and picked up today. I was also the lucky recipent of beautiful pink tulips, my favorite, and a giant butterfly balloon.
I was thankful for a soft place to land today. My sister and three wonderful friends planned a morning of pedicures and brunch. When I got home, Maya was head over heals excited about my birthday but first she and I took a cat nap. My parents made us enchiladas and my sister and her posse joined us for dinner plus cake. I can't remember the last time I had so many wonderful people make such a big event out of a birthday, but I am incredibly grateful they took the time to spoil me today.
Today I thought often of Chris. He would have been excited my birthday was on a Saturday. He and Maya would have made me breakfast, they would have ventured out for some flowers and a balloon and we would have eaten way too much birthday cake. His gift would have been thoughtful; it always was. He listened, he observed and he knew what I wanted and needed. Chris was also great about incorporating Maya into all the celebration planning. Today I often found myself thinking about the 'what ifs'...what would he have bought, where would we have gone, what would have have said. What if he had not died on November 17, 2010 and instead life had continued on as usual.
For some reason whenever I am putting Maya down for a rest or for bed at night, I reminisce about the two trips Chris and I took to Orcas Island. The first trip was the weekend of Halloween 2003. Chris planned the trip as a surprise just two months after we 'officially' started dating. We stayed at Rosario Resort and he scheduled me a massage. Our second trip there was just as memorable but not for the same reasons. It was our 3rd anniversary so we decided to check out a bed and breakfast on Orcas. Maya had been incredibly sick and we thought for sure we would have to cancel. Alas, my parents are brave and Maya had pulled most of the way out of her illness by the time we were to leave. The hour long ferry ride is always one of my favorite parts about traveling to the San Juan Islands. We checked in to this adorable bed and breakfast called The Place at Cayou Cove then went into Eastsound for some Mexican food. Half way through his margarita, on ice with salt, Chris looked at me and said "I'm not feeling well, I'm really cold." Chris spent our 3 days and 2 nights in bed with a fever of 102. He missed our massages, the kayaking excursion, every wonderful breakfast and the alone time we were supposed to be having to 'catch up.' I sat in the sun, enjoyed the hot tub, took long walks on the beach and tended to my sick husband. Not so much the ideal romantic weekend either of us envisioned. I'm not sure why each time I lay down with Maya I think of these weekend trips especially the latter.
Last night a friend asked me if I believe in visits. I do. Then she reminded me of something that had been posted on my facebook page that was originally funny and now seems to have a little more meaning. I don't know that I can say I positively believe that Chris is working through other people to communicate with me, but I will say that I believe it is within the realm of possibilities. I would like to believe it, but it's hard to let myself go there. If I do, I am afraid I will become to obsessed with receiving more communication and I want to remember that though he has crossed over, the kids and I still have life to live here on Earth and lessons to learn.
Tonight I will miss my goodnight kiss, I will miss the smack on my booty as I walk up the stairs and I will miss the handsome man with hazel eyes who loved me more than I had ever imagined possible.
For my first birthday with Chris, my 27th, he bought us airline tickets to go to Disneyland. For my 33rd birthday, the last we celebrated together, he spent three days making a banana cream pie and we picked up take out from one of our favorite restaurants, Alligator Soul, because the kids both had colds.
Today as I celebrate my 34th birthday, almost two months after Chris' death, I was reminiscent about the way he spoiled me relentlessly. Maya picked out a cake on Thursday which my mom ordered and picked up today. I was also the lucky recipent of beautiful pink tulips, my favorite, and a giant butterfly balloon.
I was thankful for a soft place to land today. My sister and three wonderful friends planned a morning of pedicures and brunch. When I got home, Maya was head over heals excited about my birthday but first she and I took a cat nap. My parents made us enchiladas and my sister and her posse joined us for dinner plus cake. I can't remember the last time I had so many wonderful people make such a big event out of a birthday, but I am incredibly grateful they took the time to spoil me today.
Today I thought often of Chris. He would have been excited my birthday was on a Saturday. He and Maya would have made me breakfast, they would have ventured out for some flowers and a balloon and we would have eaten way too much birthday cake. His gift would have been thoughtful; it always was. He listened, he observed and he knew what I wanted and needed. Chris was also great about incorporating Maya into all the celebration planning. Today I often found myself thinking about the 'what ifs'...what would he have bought, where would we have gone, what would have have said. What if he had not died on November 17, 2010 and instead life had continued on as usual.
For some reason whenever I am putting Maya down for a rest or for bed at night, I reminisce about the two trips Chris and I took to Orcas Island. The first trip was the weekend of Halloween 2003. Chris planned the trip as a surprise just two months after we 'officially' started dating. We stayed at Rosario Resort and he scheduled me a massage. Our second trip there was just as memorable but not for the same reasons. It was our 3rd anniversary so we decided to check out a bed and breakfast on Orcas. Maya had been incredibly sick and we thought for sure we would have to cancel. Alas, my parents are brave and Maya had pulled most of the way out of her illness by the time we were to leave. The hour long ferry ride is always one of my favorite parts about traveling to the San Juan Islands. We checked in to this adorable bed and breakfast called The Place at Cayou Cove then went into Eastsound for some Mexican food. Half way through his margarita, on ice with salt, Chris looked at me and said "I'm not feeling well, I'm really cold." Chris spent our 3 days and 2 nights in bed with a fever of 102. He missed our massages, the kayaking excursion, every wonderful breakfast and the alone time we were supposed to be having to 'catch up.' I sat in the sun, enjoyed the hot tub, took long walks on the beach and tended to my sick husband. Not so much the ideal romantic weekend either of us envisioned. I'm not sure why each time I lay down with Maya I think of these weekend trips especially the latter.
Last night a friend asked me if I believe in visits. I do. Then she reminded me of something that had been posted on my facebook page that was originally funny and now seems to have a little more meaning. I don't know that I can say I positively believe that Chris is working through other people to communicate with me, but I will say that I believe it is within the realm of possibilities. I would like to believe it, but it's hard to let myself go there. If I do, I am afraid I will become to obsessed with receiving more communication and I want to remember that though he has crossed over, the kids and I still have life to live here on Earth and lessons to learn.
Tonight I will miss my goodnight kiss, I will miss the smack on my booty as I walk up the stairs and I will miss the handsome man with hazel eyes who loved me more than I had ever imagined possible.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Waking up...
This morning I woke up feeling refreshed. After a few moments of laying there, I remembered I had been in a funk and I wondered where my funkiness went to. Maya had joined me in bed and my sick lil man was asleep til 8:15 for a change. Thank God for warm comforters and snuggly little girls.
It wasn't until I was out of bed, making coffee and Maya's lunch that I realized...I had a dream about Chris. I am sorry to report, it wasn't a 'visit' from the other side. No major messages to distribute or truths to be told. It was an odd dream. We were on vacation with Chris' brother, sister-in-law, niece and our kids. There were other people there too but I'm not sure who they were but somehow I knew them. We were all staying at this house though I'm not even sure where we were or why we were there. In my dream we were having a good time but we needed to leave to catch our flight. I kept telling Chris maybe we should pack up but his response was that we should just enjoy ourselves and that maybe we should try to change our flight so we could stay longer. I agreed. He was always telling me to slow down and enjoy the moment. In reality I wish I could change his flight home...and we could just stay a little longer.
Why would such a normal dream make me feel better? I think it's just that...normal. Chris was normal, he was smiling, he looked real and I felt happy. Our kids were happy. Our family was happy. It was a glimpse of the 'pre' life that made my heart rest easy for a bit.
This is the only dream I have had about Chris.
Today I could breathe, I could laugh and I even let my mom pick up Maya for me from preschool. I got two huge boxes of food items from a mystery sender that warmed my heart and made me laugh all at the same time. An email from a childhood friend made my heart ache yet was an overwhelming reassurance of the human experience I am having. Did I mention the phone call I got just moments after posting my last blog? It was from a friend who read it then decided she had to call. She made me laugh for an hour. Today I even put away the displaced items into my newly refurbished bathroom (ok so it's not totally done, but almost!!!). Even my minor heartache over what to do with Chris' bathroom items didn't deter me for long. Are you wondering what I did? Some of the old, used, nearly empty things I tossed without heartache. If you walk into my bathroom, however, you will still find some of his personal items that just felt at home there again. One day we will part ways, but not yet. Maybe one day I'll need that Old Spice High Endurance deodorant?!?!
No promises, but hopefully I will have a few days of reprieve to feel real again. In the mean time, I'll make sure I have my life jacket and helmet close at hand as well as the slew of freinds who have and continue to rally around me.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Ugly Cry
So when tomorrow starts without me
Don't think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me,
For every time you think of me,
I'm right here, in your heart.
(When Tomorrow Starts Without Me by David Romano)
Monday morning I woke up with that feeling that my steady pace was plummeting into a quick decent thus it would be wise to fasten my seat belt and keep my hands and arms inside the moving vehicle. Up until then Maya had been having a rough week yet I had been able to mostly keep my head above water.
This Monday I woke up wondering why the elephant had reestablished residence on my chest. I didn't want to get out of bed and quite honestly it was a struggle to get myself to move. In the wee hours of the morning sadness had moved in to envelope me.
In my day to day activities I wonder if I give the impression that I'm doing fine...business as usual. I wonder if people know I'm sad or if this mask I am wearing is too thick to see the truth.
Today someone I have known since I was a small child had a double mastectomy in a return battle with breast cancer. The anger toward all the sadness and struggle in this world has overpowered me. The unfairness in life is a blaring siren in my heart.
I am trying to look at the good things. The bounteous nature of those around us is stunning. My children's laughter is an amazing contrast to the stark bareness in my heart.
I am wrestling with the abyss in my life.
Today Owen said 'School' and all I could think of was calling Chris to tell him. While I was making dinner the kids kept wanting me to play the same song over and over. Every 2 minutes and 57 seconds I was back to press play. On a return trip to the kitchen I looked at a picture of Chris hanging on my fridge and did what Oprah would call 'the ugly cry.' In our normal life he would have been out dancing with them and starting the song over. In this life I am too frazzled trying to get dinner on the table to stop and admire my babies joy. It just pisses me off. Tonight Chris would have enjoyed the howling wind and side blowing snow. He would have reassured me that the trees will not fall on our house.
An entire list of people who have said "call any time, day or night" meanders through my mind. Tonight I threw around names...who to call; I needed someone to reach out to. In the end, I didn't call anyone because what was I going to say and then what would they say back? I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable and all that would have come out is 'the ugly cry'. At 9:30 p.m. the phone rang but I couldn't bring myself to say anything to steer the conversation off course toward my void. I suppose the crux of the situation is that grief is quite like an iceberg out at sea. There is nothing there to truly sustain life thus the objective is to find a way back to land.
On days like this I feel like I have lost both my dignity as well as my sanity. At least this time I saw the wall coming 36 hours before actual impact. Perhaps next time I will have the foresight to put my helmet on before arrival.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Signs and Symbols
Okay, maybe you don't believe in signs. I suppose what I am leaning toward is the idea that events both big and small are not coincidental and that they can be influenced from the Other Side. Are you laughing now? Maybe you are thinking I have completely lost my marbles.
Here is the root of all of this. I look back at the past 6 months and in retrospect see signs that we were headed toward this major event.
Chris had two separate dreams in which he was with Owen. In the first they were on a train in the mountains and trapped all around by fire. He said he knew they were going to die but he called me on his cell phone to tell me 'everything is going to be alright.' In the second dream he was physically fighting another person who was trying to take Owen from him. Pertinent? Chris rarely remembered dreams and never was bothered by bad ones. He was bothered by both of these.
Chris and I had plans to leave the kids overnight with my parents on Saturday, November 20th so we could buy a car and go Christmas shopping plus get a few things done at the house. Had we bought that car, as we had been planning, we would have spent about $15,000. I am so thankful now that I have that money in my account to help me figure out this financial piece instead of a new car in the driveway that I won't ever drive.
Chris was supposed to be working that Wednesday morning. All day Tuesday he had been trying to get a hold of the man who could Okay him working on another foreman's job. It ended up that this guy was out sick so Chris never got the okay. For this I am partly grateful because he was home. We spent his last moments with him. He wasn't driving or alone with the kids thus causing more trauma or death. Instead he got up with the kids, made them breakfast, we all chatted at the table during our last meal together and I know he loved every moment of it. I believe we were all where we were supposed to be at that moment and that I was supposed to be the one to find him. The last one to touch his skin.
Now, you are probably wondering about now. I have had a few experiences I have shared with a select few. After the first I swore to myself I wouldn't tell a soul. In the end, I blurted it out to his brother that same afternoon while sitting in the lobby at Wells Fargo waiting to put my name on the memorial account. I had no intention of telling Jer even when he picked me up to go over there. I have no idea why I suddenly blurted it out except I think I was supposed to tell him. I subsequently shared it with his best friend and my mom.
I won't share then here because I suppose I feel they are slightly sacred. Admittedly I find myself rationalizing most things away. It's easy to do. But I will share one more.
Today I had my IPOD playing while just Owen and I were home. The song Just Breathe came on and as I walked back upstairs I stopped to listen to Owen...humming to the song. He does this sort of singing/humming thing to songs he likes and somewhat knows. I smiled and thought it was cute. As I came back down the stairs a few minutes later, Owen was trying to tell me something and pointing at the speakers. The song had changed. I changed it back and he sat back down at the kids table, smiling, kicking swinging his feet, humming along, looking at a book. It happened two more times. I love this song. I chose it for the slide show at the life celebration. It's no coincidence it came on because it's been on my IPOD for a couple years. I was shocked Owen knew the song. I'm not sure what it "means" but I'll take my own personal message from it and smile.
I love Chris eternally. Being a widow at 33 (ok almost 34) is shocking. Most widows are much further into their lives thus the idea of their loved one waiting for them on the other side is perhaps comforting. If I had a dollar for every conversation I had in which the participant told me they hoped I would find love and happiness again I would be a rich woman. In the end, my love for Chris is eternal. I can't imagine there ever being a day when I will decide that it is acceptable to love another person. I can't imagine that all of this just fades to black, curtain closed. There has to be more. In that place that is more, I have to imagine that Chris is there rooting for us, cheering us on, trying to reach out to us, wanting to dry our tears and most of all wanting us to find the strength and confidence that he knew was there in the three of us all along.
One Important Addition: (1/11/2011) I forgot to add one more event. About two months before Chris died we were laying in bed both reading our books and I suddenly had this sinking feeling. I looked at Chris and said "Are you going to leave me?" Now, I had absolutely no reason to believe Chris had or would ever leave our marriage but I had this weird, pit-of-my-stomach feeling. He laughed me off and told me I was crazy. I laughed too and went back to ready but thought about this moment for a few days. About a week after Chris died I recalled this moment.
I am a total theif!
One Day At A Time - The Behaviour of the Bereaved
The other day I read this post from a fellow widow and it truly stuck with me the past few days. There is so much reality to this post so I hope you will look at it and maybe it will give you another perspective of this world of the widowed.
The other day I read this post from a fellow widow and it truly stuck with me the past few days. There is so much reality to this post so I hope you will look at it and maybe it will give you another perspective of this world of the widowed.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Love Songs and Manipulation
Several funny things happened today. All day long I kept thinking "I am going to write this on my blog, it's normal, I need to remember." Instead it's 9:50 p.m. and I have no idea what those funny things are. They were swallowed up by my lack of brain space. Where the heck did all that brain space go?
I do remember, however, that Owen said "Bye bye Brody" tonight. The kid who refuses to say words! OK, it sounded more like "Bye ie Body" but it's close and I am one proud momma because there is hope he will stop grunting and yelling at me.
The other thing I remember? My IPOD. Why has this thing become my nemesis? Dinner was simmering and I was building a block tower with Owen when Lucky by Jason Mraz with Colbie Caillat came on. Nice love song. Made me think of my best friend. Then a fleeting thought...can I still listen to love songs? Is someone still out there who loves me as much as I still love him? Where the heck did he go? My faith is being tried. That is an understatement.
Of course, a short while later, Maya came running in to tell me "Mommy, your wedded song is on!" And it was. At Last by Etta Jones. It was not Chris' top choice. In all actuality he would have passed on the first dance all together if he had been given more of a choice. But, you know how it goes. He smiled and agreed. Then smiled and agreed again when I changed my mind on every wedding detail. He just wanted to say "I Do" then leave for the honeymoon on Maui. I suppose I'm lucky he agreed to the reception at all. Back to the song. Maya grabbed her friend Addison who was visiting, and they danced. I watched and thought about how carefree they are. I felt that way 5 1/2 years ago. I guess it's a good thing we don't really know what is coming on the road ahead.
Now, I am sitting here watching the movie Funny People. Seth Rogan's character just played "Three Little Birds" for Adam Sandler's character followed up by "Time of My Life" then "Keep Me in Your Heart For Awhile." This is a sad movie. I didn't read the cover. I thought, "oh funny, ok." Naive. Maybe you don't know how often Chris was asked if he knew he looked like Adam Sandler. It drove him nuts and made me laugh hysterically. If you have read my blog at all in the past 7 weeks, you know the significance of the Bob Marley song. The Dirty Dancing song? I came home one day to find Chris watching Dirty Dancing. Ha! I don't know where I was but he had put the kids in bed and sat down to watch tv...and got sucked in. He admitted he had not seen the movie before and loved it. Finally, I had not heard the last song before. It was fitting. These lines spoke to me:
Hold me in your thoughts, take me to your dreams
Touch me as I fall into view
When the winter comes keep the fires lit
And I will be right next to you
But here I am thinking, what does one do with a broken heart? Everyone keeps telling me to give it time. I don't think time will heal my broken heart. I have a feeling I will just become accustomed to the pain. The edges will soften but the reality will be the same.
That brings me to one final subject. Manipulation. I wish I could report that I have found a way to manipulate 'death.' Alas, aside from crying, praying and flat out begging. Apparently what's done is done. Excuse my irreverent sarcasm.
Manipulation + Chris' death + 3 1/2 year old + fake crying = frazzled mommy
Holy cow. It started last week. I thought Maya was legitimately sad. So I laid with her at bed time until she was fast asleep. After a few nights she started the fake cry and I thought...oh crap. Sure enough I am quite certain Maya is manipulating me to get more snuggle time. However, it is some place I need to tread quite gently. She is heart broken. The overwhelming fact of the matter is that she is 3 1/2 and wants me to stay with her until she falls asleep. I just wish the manipulation wasn't about Chris; that just stings.
I gave myself a few days of reprieve from writing then tonight couldn't figure out where to start. I spent too much time trying to remember the 'normal' events today to report. In the end, my life is anything but normal. I love my babies. They make me smile and laugh. But, I miss Chris. At night I go to bed wondering if my ears will always ring from the silence or if I will grow more accustomed to it as time marches on.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
A Pocketful of Memories
The slog of putting words to my emotions was getting to be too much today. My words are painful for you to read; they are equally as painful for me. I read my post from last night, cried, then decided today is about pictures. After preschool Maya climbed into the car and picked up the picture of Chris she left in there several weeks ago and gave him a big kiss. So today, I look at my pictures and remember the man I love..here's a big cyber kiss babe.
Two things Chris always talked about in regard to growing up in Skykomish...fishing and basketball.
To Cheryl I owe my eternal gratitude and she knows why.
One of our first pictures taken together...November 2003. Ironically taken in the same hall I rented for his Life Celebration.
November 2004...trip of a life time
A trip to Paris (Dec 2006)and Chris with 'his girl' Cally
The birth of Chris' baby girl, Maya Elizabeth, April 24, 2007
Memories with Maya
A baby boy, Owen Michael, July 18, 2009.
November 2009, December 2009, April 2010
Summer Fun, 2010
Brent & Chris, July 2010
Fall 2010
What normal used to look like....
Last, a video. My heart can feel his spirit when I hear this laugh.
Lil' Chris and his brothers
Two things Chris always talked about in regard to growing up in Skykomish...fishing and basketball.
To Cheryl I owe my eternal gratitude and she knows why.One of our first pictures taken together...November 2003. Ironically taken in the same hall I rented for his Life Celebration.
November 2004...trip of a life timeI Do's and First Dances.... April 2005
Maui Honeymoon
A trip to Paris (Dec 2006)and Chris with 'his girl' Cally
The birth of Chris' baby girl, Maya Elizabeth, April 24, 2007
Memories with Maya
A baby boy, Owen Michael, July 18, 2009.
Everyone in a seat, September 2009
November 2009, December 2009, April 2010
Summer Fun, 2010
Brent & Chris, July 2010
Fall 2010
What normal used to look like....
Last, a video. My heart can feel his spirit when I hear this laugh.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Runaway Train
By noon I had a raging headache. The funny thing was that I got more sleep last night than I had in awhile.
It started with an early Owen 'wake up call' at 6:20 a.m. Zzzzzzzzzz. That was followed up by a sleepy Maya who wanted to go to the gym so she could play with Addie but was too sleepy to get motivated to help get herself ready. We made it to the gym though not as early as I wanted because the car was encased in frost. Of course I was supposed to get there early so I could reactivate my account which had been on hold during the absence since Chris' death. In a big line of people, I frazzled the man with my request though he figured out a solution which still allowed me to make it to Zumba.
I was anxious about the gym but I love the class. Owen screamed when I put him down and I needed to remind the childcare workers of 'our situation' in case anything came up. Owen recovered quickly but then I walked in to find a substitute Zumba teacher. After being lost for 55 minutes, one of the childcare workers came in to get my friend because her daughter was upset because mine was playing with Owen and not her. Man, that breaks my heart. We both went back and indeed Maya was playing with Owen. Big deal? Not tremendously but I don't like seeing Addison with her feelings hurt and I was already on edge. Oh, did I mention the sun was reflecting off the court and giving me a headache during Zumba? Of course once out at the membership desk again I had to explain why I had 6 months free...then as I pulled out of the driveway Maya asked why I told the lady my husband died. Because...he did. He's dead. As much as I know this is my reality, I seem to have to remind myself I will never have another conversation with him while I am on this Earth. It's like taking a hot poker to myself.
On the way home, I cried. I don't want Maya to become 'that' kid but I cannot for the life of me figure out where to draw the line. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, treat her patiently but at the same time...I want us to come out of this without Maya having become a brat. I am overwhelmed by trying to navigate this alone. I kept thinking that in our 'normal' life I would have called to vent to Chris on the way home and he would have reassured me that it will be fine. He would have offered to take the kids so I could get a break when he got home. He would have had an idea about what to do. But in our 'normal' life Chris wasn't dead. In this abnormal life I am flying solo and calling the shots. You'd think my type A personality would love that part but actually, I loathe it.
I got a shower with Owen banging on the door followed up by Maya's insistence to have Oatmeal for lunch which I conceded to since it just seemed to go with the territory today.
Maya was exhausted so I made her lay down with me and my excruciating headache. I pulled out a book called Samantha Jane's Missing Smile. Now Maya had been asking about Chris all last night last and all day today. She wanted him home, she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to hug him.... No matter what I said or didn't say she kept right on going. It became a whine. It's at that point I started to crack a little. Thus I pulled out the book, a story about a girl whose daddy dies...fitting. Maya murmured in agreement during the book and asked questions about the girl's daddy and her own. She connected. Bittersweet. In moment like this I think, this sucks. This shouldn't be us. But then again, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
So, what's the big deal? All the minuscule events but, combined, exhausted me physically and emotionally. It overwhelmed me thinking about never having the reprieve of my spouse, my partner, my companion. He got me.
I miss the sound of Chris' Hermanson van pulling into the driveway at 4 p.m. If I could return to our 'normal' life, he could work nights every day until we are old and gray. I hated when he worked nights. I was lonely and didn't like sleeping at the house alone. Now, that is all small stuff. I mind the loneliness but I just miss him. Plain and simple.
At bed time Maya was back at the questions. She wanted to read the book again but this time we talked about some of the fun things she used to do with her daddy. I don't know if it's good or bad. At one point she told me she wanted to go to heaven with daddy. I totally get it. I have had moments I thought, why couldn't we have all gone at once? Nobody left to feel the emptiness in our home or question the feelings of anger and abandonment. Or, like I do, question the guilt in why I wasn't alarmed by the thud or how I feel like I let our friends and family down by not being the hero that Wednesday morning. If only it were all so easily rewritten like a 'choose your own adventure' book where you could go back and choose a new path if you didn't like where yours was going.
I hate where mine is going. It feels strangely akin to a runaway train.
It started with an early Owen 'wake up call' at 6:20 a.m. Zzzzzzzzzz. That was followed up by a sleepy Maya who wanted to go to the gym so she could play with Addie but was too sleepy to get motivated to help get herself ready. We made it to the gym though not as early as I wanted because the car was encased in frost. Of course I was supposed to get there early so I could reactivate my account which had been on hold during the absence since Chris' death. In a big line of people, I frazzled the man with my request though he figured out a solution which still allowed me to make it to Zumba.
I was anxious about the gym but I love the class. Owen screamed when I put him down and I needed to remind the childcare workers of 'our situation' in case anything came up. Owen recovered quickly but then I walked in to find a substitute Zumba teacher. After being lost for 55 minutes, one of the childcare workers came in to get my friend because her daughter was upset because mine was playing with Owen and not her. Man, that breaks my heart. We both went back and indeed Maya was playing with Owen. Big deal? Not tremendously but I don't like seeing Addison with her feelings hurt and I was already on edge. Oh, did I mention the sun was reflecting off the court and giving me a headache during Zumba? Of course once out at the membership desk again I had to explain why I had 6 months free...then as I pulled out of the driveway Maya asked why I told the lady my husband died. Because...he did. He's dead. As much as I know this is my reality, I seem to have to remind myself I will never have another conversation with him while I am on this Earth. It's like taking a hot poker to myself.
On the way home, I cried. I don't want Maya to become 'that' kid but I cannot for the life of me figure out where to draw the line. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, treat her patiently but at the same time...I want us to come out of this without Maya having become a brat. I am overwhelmed by trying to navigate this alone. I kept thinking that in our 'normal' life I would have called to vent to Chris on the way home and he would have reassured me that it will be fine. He would have offered to take the kids so I could get a break when he got home. He would have had an idea about what to do. But in our 'normal' life Chris wasn't dead. In this abnormal life I am flying solo and calling the shots. You'd think my type A personality would love that part but actually, I loathe it.
I got a shower with Owen banging on the door followed up by Maya's insistence to have Oatmeal for lunch which I conceded to since it just seemed to go with the territory today.
Maya was exhausted so I made her lay down with me and my excruciating headache. I pulled out a book called Samantha Jane's Missing Smile. Now Maya had been asking about Chris all last night last and all day today. She wanted him home, she wanted to talk to him, she wanted to hug him.... No matter what I said or didn't say she kept right on going. It became a whine. It's at that point I started to crack a little. Thus I pulled out the book, a story about a girl whose daddy dies...fitting. Maya murmured in agreement during the book and asked questions about the girl's daddy and her own. She connected. Bittersweet. In moment like this I think, this sucks. This shouldn't be us. But then again, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.
So, what's the big deal? All the minuscule events but, combined, exhausted me physically and emotionally. It overwhelmed me thinking about never having the reprieve of my spouse, my partner, my companion. He got me.
I miss the sound of Chris' Hermanson van pulling into the driveway at 4 p.m. If I could return to our 'normal' life, he could work nights every day until we are old and gray. I hated when he worked nights. I was lonely and didn't like sleeping at the house alone. Now, that is all small stuff. I mind the loneliness but I just miss him. Plain and simple.
At bed time Maya was back at the questions. She wanted to read the book again but this time we talked about some of the fun things she used to do with her daddy. I don't know if it's good or bad. At one point she told me she wanted to go to heaven with daddy. I totally get it. I have had moments I thought, why couldn't we have all gone at once? Nobody left to feel the emptiness in our home or question the feelings of anger and abandonment. Or, like I do, question the guilt in why I wasn't alarmed by the thud or how I feel like I let our friends and family down by not being the hero that Wednesday morning. If only it were all so easily rewritten like a 'choose your own adventure' book where you could go back and choose a new path if you didn't like where yours was going.
I hate where mine is going. It feels strangely akin to a runaway train.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Hasty Decisions
Maya was begging for a sleepover at grandma's though the last time I conceded and told her she could, she decided she didn't want to sleep any place but her princess bed. Ok, she wasn't ready.
Yesterday she was talking about it again so I offered and she took it. In the end, both kiddos went with grandma and grandpa though perhaps I didn't think that through. What does a widow do at home by herself for 20 hours?
I started my time alone cleaning up some of the garbage in the bathroom currently undergoing renovation. Then I decided to put away the remaining items that had been stored in a bin since the Life Tribute for Chris. There really wasn't much left just a few odds and ends I hadn't either put back where it goes or found a new home for. It feels weird to put his stuff away like there is some sort of hanging question out there about why... I emptied my laundry basket but then as I was lifting my sweaters out I realized underneath was the remaining clothes from Chris' laundry basket I finally broke down and washed. We had started on the giant pile...and then I lost it and made my mom stop. It felt like washing away the last remaining particles of him on this Earth. I put his shorts, shirts and jeans back into their respective spots and looked at the socks neatly folded one into the other at the bottom. Chris didn't fold his socks like that. I unfolded them...then folded them the way he liked and put them back into his sock drawer, the same drawer he had been keeping the Christmas money in we were saving up. Most of this money instead went into the bathroom. What am I supposed to do with all of his clothes?
In a book I read about grieving children it talked about walking a fine line with the deceased parent's belongings. Obviously we all want reminders that he was real, he was here, his body occupied the spaces that we move through. However, it warned that smaller children, like mine, may interpret it as a sign the deceased parent is going to return. I haven't gotten rid of anything though some of his coats that were in the front closet are now in his bedroom closet. His toothbrush is still in the holder despite being in a bag in my closet for the remodel. This afternoon I threw away some of the shampoos that were in the shower when he died. Maybe you didn't know; he died in the shower thus all the drama about my bathroom.
I digress. I decided to leave at about 5 p.m. Stopped at Home Depot to buy a new mirror for the bathroom then I drove. I wanted to go to Sam's Sushi in Ballard. Chris and I ate there once a week while we lived in Ballard. We would walk down to Sam's and sit for hours, eating and drinking green tea. I wanted to go. I even got onto 520 headed into Seattle but then I took a turn for the worse. By the time I got to I-5 the realization of it all hit me and I cried until I reached Everett driving right past the 45th street exit I was originally going to take. In the end I stopped at Haggen to grab some food then off for a movie and back to my safe haven. It seems like some widows function better when they are not home. I suppose I feel like this is where our life was. The memories here are not quite as wicked and raw. While driving down I-5 I think of Chris' daily drive to work, as I crossed the 520 bridge and spotted Husky Stadium I thought of the seasons tickets he had the year we met and as I spotted the skyscrapers of downtown Seattle I thought of Maya building Mega Blocks towers with Chris...always building the towers Chris worked in. I kept looking down at the picture of Chris in the cup holder. Maya brought it out to the car 4 weeks ago to kiss and talk to and it has stayed there ever since.
The silence was waiting for me when I got home but it wasn't quite as frightening as I expected it would be. Well, at least it was silent after the dog stopped barking at me. She and I settled in, and I realized that the elephant that had been on my chest had found another home at some point between Haggen and home. I suppose I am not ready for the world quite yet so I will just continue to let the world come to me.
Yesterday she was talking about it again so I offered and she took it. In the end, both kiddos went with grandma and grandpa though perhaps I didn't think that through. What does a widow do at home by herself for 20 hours?
I started my time alone cleaning up some of the garbage in the bathroom currently undergoing renovation. Then I decided to put away the remaining items that had been stored in a bin since the Life Tribute for Chris. There really wasn't much left just a few odds and ends I hadn't either put back where it goes or found a new home for. It feels weird to put his stuff away like there is some sort of hanging question out there about why... I emptied my laundry basket but then as I was lifting my sweaters out I realized underneath was the remaining clothes from Chris' laundry basket I finally broke down and washed. We had started on the giant pile...and then I lost it and made my mom stop. It felt like washing away the last remaining particles of him on this Earth. I put his shorts, shirts and jeans back into their respective spots and looked at the socks neatly folded one into the other at the bottom. Chris didn't fold his socks like that. I unfolded them...then folded them the way he liked and put them back into his sock drawer, the same drawer he had been keeping the Christmas money in we were saving up. Most of this money instead went into the bathroom. What am I supposed to do with all of his clothes?
In a book I read about grieving children it talked about walking a fine line with the deceased parent's belongings. Obviously we all want reminders that he was real, he was here, his body occupied the spaces that we move through. However, it warned that smaller children, like mine, may interpret it as a sign the deceased parent is going to return. I haven't gotten rid of anything though some of his coats that were in the front closet are now in his bedroom closet. His toothbrush is still in the holder despite being in a bag in my closet for the remodel. This afternoon I threw away some of the shampoos that were in the shower when he died. Maybe you didn't know; he died in the shower thus all the drama about my bathroom.
I digress. I decided to leave at about 5 p.m. Stopped at Home Depot to buy a new mirror for the bathroom then I drove. I wanted to go to Sam's Sushi in Ballard. Chris and I ate there once a week while we lived in Ballard. We would walk down to Sam's and sit for hours, eating and drinking green tea. I wanted to go. I even got onto 520 headed into Seattle but then I took a turn for the worse. By the time I got to I-5 the realization of it all hit me and I cried until I reached Everett driving right past the 45th street exit I was originally going to take. In the end I stopped at Haggen to grab some food then off for a movie and back to my safe haven. It seems like some widows function better when they are not home. I suppose I feel like this is where our life was. The memories here are not quite as wicked and raw. While driving down I-5 I think of Chris' daily drive to work, as I crossed the 520 bridge and spotted Husky Stadium I thought of the seasons tickets he had the year we met and as I spotted the skyscrapers of downtown Seattle I thought of Maya building Mega Blocks towers with Chris...always building the towers Chris worked in. I kept looking down at the picture of Chris in the cup holder. Maya brought it out to the car 4 weeks ago to kiss and talk to and it has stayed there ever since.
The silence was waiting for me when I got home but it wasn't quite as frightening as I expected it would be. Well, at least it was silent after the dog stopped barking at me. She and I settled in, and I realized that the elephant that had been on my chest had found another home at some point between Haggen and home. I suppose I am not ready for the world quite yet so I will just continue to let the world come to me.
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