Where is he? That's such a good question.
It would be fine if it was just a question circulating my mind. Instead, as I was looking at a picture of Chris, whom Owen has taken to calling "daddy Chris" he asked that question...Where is he? In heaven was my answer.
Puzzled look...tiny smile, a kiss good night.
He doesn't get it.
I've been encouraging the distinction of daddy Chris because I think Owen needs more information. His mind is uber inquisitive and he wants to know everything. I love it. However, it's a painful moment. I also want the definition because Owen is becoming more accustomed to calling Shaun, daddy when Riley is here. His understanding of parental titles is somewhat fluid.
So there it is. The moment he asked. It was hard, not in the ugly cry sort of way but in the heart ache sort of way.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
How Does She Do It?
Usually you can find me fluttering about my home, June Cleaver style, in my dress and heels working patiently to keep my home, my man and my kids happy.
Or you will find me trying to convince my 2 1/2 year old son to put his underwear back on and he runs around me making comments about his penis and the poop he left in the toilet.
Maybe you will find me cleaning poop out of my other 2 1/2 year old's underwear...she is taking less kindly to potty training now.
Perhaps instead you will find me discussing poop with my almost 5 year old who has been struggling with painful constipation which is only recently undercontrol.
I'm pretty sure June Cleaver didn't talk about poop as much as I do. I spend an exorbitant amount of time in the bathroom, wiping little bootys, plunging toilets, discussing the goings on of the rectum. It's a glamorous life, really, mostly done in my yoga pants and sweatshirt sans the heels.
Ok, that's not what I intended to write about but as I opened the window to blog, my son was refusing to retrieve his underwear from the bathroom.
What's on my mind? How to love again.
It's such a difficult subject to explain. Love the first time...sans kids, sans dogs, sans house and the weight of being widowed is a far different experience than love filled with the adventure of kids, dogs, house, families, ex wives, and all the extended family and friends involved.
I suppose I should explain, I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't even positive my heart was open to it. I was lonely and looking for a little adventure, maybe a date, maybe a few dates, maybe a disaster and the realization I wasn't ready. Instead I found Shaun. He wasn't sure he was ready to date either, ha! He was going to go on a date before he left for 3 weeks but we had to cancel at the last minute. Instead I found a friend then a love... we talked, emailed and texted for 3 weeks before our first in person encounter and it was a total of 4 weeks before he was home. It was a different whirlwind adventure which I loved.
The reality of love the second time, in our situation is there is drama, ha! It's taught us to be patient, understanding and we realized very, very early on that our communication skills needed to be strong. Our life entails a plethora of entities ranging from ourselves to ex families to late families to those we aren't related to at all. At the end of the day...there is love. The willingness to work because Lord knows this ain't easy, and the willingness to look out for ourselves, our loved ones, our hearts and especially our kids.
Or you will find me trying to convince my 2 1/2 year old son to put his underwear back on and he runs around me making comments about his penis and the poop he left in the toilet.
Maybe you will find me cleaning poop out of my other 2 1/2 year old's underwear...she is taking less kindly to potty training now.
Perhaps instead you will find me discussing poop with my almost 5 year old who has been struggling with painful constipation which is only recently undercontrol.
I'm pretty sure June Cleaver didn't talk about poop as much as I do. I spend an exorbitant amount of time in the bathroom, wiping little bootys, plunging toilets, discussing the goings on of the rectum. It's a glamorous life, really, mostly done in my yoga pants and sweatshirt sans the heels.
Ok, that's not what I intended to write about but as I opened the window to blog, my son was refusing to retrieve his underwear from the bathroom.
What's on my mind? How to love again.
It's such a difficult subject to explain. Love the first time...sans kids, sans dogs, sans house and the weight of being widowed is a far different experience than love filled with the adventure of kids, dogs, house, families, ex wives, and all the extended family and friends involved.
I suppose I should explain, I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't even positive my heart was open to it. I was lonely and looking for a little adventure, maybe a date, maybe a few dates, maybe a disaster and the realization I wasn't ready. Instead I found Shaun. He wasn't sure he was ready to date either, ha! He was going to go on a date before he left for 3 weeks but we had to cancel at the last minute. Instead I found a friend then a love... we talked, emailed and texted for 3 weeks before our first in person encounter and it was a total of 4 weeks before he was home. It was a different whirlwind adventure which I loved.
The reality of love the second time, in our situation is there is drama, ha! It's taught us to be patient, understanding and we realized very, very early on that our communication skills needed to be strong. Our life entails a plethora of entities ranging from ourselves to ex families to late families to those we aren't related to at all. At the end of the day...there is love. The willingness to work because Lord knows this ain't easy, and the willingness to look out for ourselves, our loved ones, our hearts and especially our kids.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Dear Me....
I suppose if I were to counsel another widow or even Sabrina of November 17, 2010 I would have a few pieces of advice, insight, forewarning...
For example, don't panic about money unless you absolutely positively should. The inference is that I did and it's true. I remember panicking that Chris was dead and in my disbelief I was sure I would be down to my last cent, lose my home and be working full time while being forced t move in with my parents. That scenario couldn't have been further from the truth. I had enough, Social Security truly paid out at the allotted amount and Hermanson Co was more than generous in supporting us with several checks, bonuses etc., that ultimately I was fine, more than fine. The lesson I learned, don't panic and cash out everything in pensions and retirements. It costs way to much in taxes and the money could have grown plus it has made my year end taxes a mess.
Speak up. I listened to this in a 50/50 sort of manner. I needed help, I needed breaks, I needed friends, I needed a new life, I needed a place to start from, I needed a shoulder to cry on, I needed to not be judged. I would not say I am someone who pulls punches but I let my pride get the best of me in too many moments. Looking back I know it was easier to say "I will be fine tomorrow, no worries" than to anticipate sitting in silence with someone, feeling like I needed to fill the empty space with explanation and examination. At times I rode through white knuckling it on a wing and a prayer mixed with a few cuss words.
Find peace. Whatever it takes to find that thing which allows you to take a deep breath and find peace even if it is fleeting and difficult to grasp on to. Once you find it, hold on for dear life because it will try to escape you. The peace is important. It's not about letting go, it's not about loving less, it's not about pushing that life aside... it's about accepting the journey before you. It's about appreciating the world as it was, as it is and as it will become. It's about accepting that life can still contain happiness and love and joy. It's also about letting go of the guilt those joyous moments bring, because girl, you will feel guilt in many different ways over more things than you will be able to anticipate. Don't worry if it evades you temporarily...it will return. Keep striving for it and don't give up.
Love what's left. Hold on to your kids, hold on to your family, hold on to your pictures and that ratty old sweatshirt that makes your smile in the moment you put it on and most of all love those memories and love it all with what is left in your soul. It won't feel like much but that strength you have to love and hold on...it will grow too. Most of all remember you are what is left too. Love yourself for who you were, who you are and who you are becoming. Love the fact that we are able to change. Holding on to who you were, as a whole, will break your heart because part of what made you, you...is gone. Love completely and unconditionally. Especially apply this to yourself.
Take guidance but go with your head, your heart, your gut ... you know what's right, even alone. You knew what was right before and you will know what is right now. You will make choices that you will regret and some that you will relish. Appreciate both. In retrospect you will realize some decisions which felt major were truly minuscule in the grand scheme but in the end, you know what's right, your know what is good for you and your family and you will come out of the fog with all of these things intact.
Understand the criticism. This doesn't mean to simply take it or to fight back but try to understand it. We each have our own journey through grief. Some lash out, some have an idea of the 'right' path, some simply think they are protecting those who have passed on. In reality it is us who is left. We must live for us. But, take a moment to come to terms with the criticism. God knows I had my moments, I still do. Understand, come to peace and move forward
Finally, understand it won't end, it will only change. The second year, it's more difficult. The first year was about making it through the fog then finding a glimpse of myself while figuring out how to function and run life on my own. In my first year, I unexpectedly found love but it doesn't mean the grief is over. The second year brings much realization that life has changed so much, that your kids are moving on without their other parent and that the dreams you once had are truly set aside. There are moments of tears, moments of fears, moments of longing for when life was the easy norm you once knew. The new life, it can seem overwhelming, uphill, hard to manage. But, you can do it. Keep pushing.
For example, don't panic about money unless you absolutely positively should. The inference is that I did and it's true. I remember panicking that Chris was dead and in my disbelief I was sure I would be down to my last cent, lose my home and be working full time while being forced t move in with my parents. That scenario couldn't have been further from the truth. I had enough, Social Security truly paid out at the allotted amount and Hermanson Co was more than generous in supporting us with several checks, bonuses etc., that ultimately I was fine, more than fine. The lesson I learned, don't panic and cash out everything in pensions and retirements. It costs way to much in taxes and the money could have grown plus it has made my year end taxes a mess.
Speak up. I listened to this in a 50/50 sort of manner. I needed help, I needed breaks, I needed friends, I needed a new life, I needed a place to start from, I needed a shoulder to cry on, I needed to not be judged. I would not say I am someone who pulls punches but I let my pride get the best of me in too many moments. Looking back I know it was easier to say "I will be fine tomorrow, no worries" than to anticipate sitting in silence with someone, feeling like I needed to fill the empty space with explanation and examination. At times I rode through white knuckling it on a wing and a prayer mixed with a few cuss words.
Find peace. Whatever it takes to find that thing which allows you to take a deep breath and find peace even if it is fleeting and difficult to grasp on to. Once you find it, hold on for dear life because it will try to escape you. The peace is important. It's not about letting go, it's not about loving less, it's not about pushing that life aside... it's about accepting the journey before you. It's about appreciating the world as it was, as it is and as it will become. It's about accepting that life can still contain happiness and love and joy. It's also about letting go of the guilt those joyous moments bring, because girl, you will feel guilt in many different ways over more things than you will be able to anticipate. Don't worry if it evades you temporarily...it will return. Keep striving for it and don't give up.
Love what's left. Hold on to your kids, hold on to your family, hold on to your pictures and that ratty old sweatshirt that makes your smile in the moment you put it on and most of all love those memories and love it all with what is left in your soul. It won't feel like much but that strength you have to love and hold on...it will grow too. Most of all remember you are what is left too. Love yourself for who you were, who you are and who you are becoming. Love the fact that we are able to change. Holding on to who you were, as a whole, will break your heart because part of what made you, you...is gone. Love completely and unconditionally. Especially apply this to yourself.
Take guidance but go with your head, your heart, your gut ... you know what's right, even alone. You knew what was right before and you will know what is right now. You will make choices that you will regret and some that you will relish. Appreciate both. In retrospect you will realize some decisions which felt major were truly minuscule in the grand scheme but in the end, you know what's right, your know what is good for you and your family and you will come out of the fog with all of these things intact.
Understand the criticism. This doesn't mean to simply take it or to fight back but try to understand it. We each have our own journey through grief. Some lash out, some have an idea of the 'right' path, some simply think they are protecting those who have passed on. In reality it is us who is left. We must live for us. But, take a moment to come to terms with the criticism. God knows I had my moments, I still do. Understand, come to peace and move forward
Finally, understand it won't end, it will only change. The second year, it's more difficult. The first year was about making it through the fog then finding a glimpse of myself while figuring out how to function and run life on my own. In my first year, I unexpectedly found love but it doesn't mean the grief is over. The second year brings much realization that life has changed so much, that your kids are moving on without their other parent and that the dreams you once had are truly set aside. There are moments of tears, moments of fears, moments of longing for when life was the easy norm you once knew. The new life, it can seem overwhelming, uphill, hard to manage. But, you can do it. Keep pushing.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
His voice
At bed time Maya picked out a book I made when she was 18 months old for Chris for Christmas called My Daddy and I. It was a silly little photo book all abou Chris and Maya's adventures. After I finished she looked at me and said, "Mommy, what did his voice sound like?"
That question and the conversation that followed affirmed a fear of mine.
She has forgotten so much.
We snuggled in her bed for quite awhile talking about Chris and I reaffirmed my need to remind her frequently about him...his favorites, his interests, his dislikes so that some day she has facts about him she can call her own.
That day came way too fast.
That question and the conversation that followed affirmed a fear of mine.
She has forgotten so much.
We snuggled in her bed for quite awhile talking about Chris and I reaffirmed my need to remind her frequently about him...his favorites, his interests, his dislikes so that some day she has facts about him she can call her own.
That day came way too fast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)