A Special Present

Christmas morning, Munchkin was awake at 4:24 am-you know typical time for an excited six year old!  I snuggled him in my bed for an hour and then we got up.  We had breakfast and we opened our presents.  

My best friends mom had brought a bag over a few days before Christmas and instructed it to be the LAST thing opened on Christmas morning.   We agreed. 

Well, nothing could prepare me for what was in that bag! 

 

Several years ago, not long after Robert died, there was MASSIVE flooding in our town and

my parents basement where all of my stuff was being stored was hit pretty hard.   Kate came over to help me clean up and see what was salvageable.  I remember that all of his baseball hats were covered in mold and deemed unsalvageable.  We went to the laundry mat and washed everything else trying to save it. 

Keep in mind, this was the second time that everything was taken to a laundry mat---the first time was with another friend that helped me get everything clean from the flea infestation in my house back in Texas!

Anyway, in all of that cleaning, she took some of his shirts and ties.   She has had them for the better part of five years waiting for me to be "ready" but she had a quilt made out of them.    We discussed it years ago but not since then.  Let me tell you--the quilt is perfect!  It has his Chicago Bears t-shirts, his patriotic t-shirts, his shirts and ties, his car show t-shirts.  It captures him perfectly!   The backing of it has a very subtle music note pattern on it.  I am in love. 

More amazing, is that when Munchkin opened it, he knew that they were Daddy's t-shirts and he is loving it!  I asked myself how he knew, and then I remembered that many of the shirts are in pictures of Robert. 

After the chaos of opening, I found him sitting on the couch reading a book wrapped in the blanket as I cooked.  I thought to myself that it was perfect that I was cooking in the kitchen and he was snuggling with Daddy...even if only in memory. 

Once again, I am awed and amazed by the love that we receive on a daily basis.   I know that my words are not doing this justice, so I will just show you! 

Our China

Many years ago, Robert decided that he wanted to help me register for our wedding.  I didn't generally have a problem with it as I thought that he would be helping with the general "house" stuff.   HA!  Little did I know that he wanted input in EVERYTHING.  When I say everything, I mean china pattern, crystal pattern and even my silver.

My silver pattern was picked for me when I was a baby--and I had several pieces.  I put my foot down that I was NOT changing it.  I actually hoped that he would BUTT out of my china and crystal as well...no such luck.

We fought--I mean really fought.   We actually fought more over planning our wedding than we did the entire time we were married.    I swore that we were never getting divorced because I was never again going to endure planning a wedding!   Most of the strife actually came in the disparity on our family sizes.   His was very very small--less than 20 total and mine was HUGE over 100 with only the closest cousins on each side.  At the time, he couldn't really comprehend how a family could not only be so large, but be so close that they actually spoke to each other regularly.

Here is some insight.  I was brought up knowing how to set a proper table with fine china and crystal.   He thought it was a very neat idea and something he had never experienced.   It was a right of passage in our family to be able to learn to care for and even wash it at my Great-Grandmother's house.   Mom and Nana also served meals on their fine pieces and it was a BIG deal to be promoted to the grown up table.  I had my heart set on the type of patterns that I would get to pick.  I didn't even consider that my future husband would even want to bother with those details.   Boy was I wrong.

I wanted simple china, he wanted ornate.  We settled on a middle of the road pattern that he really liked and I tolerated.  What is important is that the  pattern was the very first time that we compromised.  I served on it often.  I was careful to rotate the boxes so that no one set faded more than the rest.  It was our home from work a little early and had time to set the table dishes.   We used it at least once a week and often times more.

After he died, it was boxed up and moved, and moved again, and moved again and finally moved into my house.   I have not used it since the week before he died.  It seemed like every time I looked at the boxes I was flooded with memories that led to tears.   These beautiful dishes had sat unused for far too long.

I decided a few weeks ago that I would serve Christmas on my fine china.  This was a huge step for me.  This morning I pulled it out, and set the table.  Only, I don't have enough pieces for the entire family so I ended up intermixing my other dishes, but I still used them.   Mom brought over a few settings of my great-grandmother's silver for me to use to complete the table and we had a great meal.   Lots of laughter and love around the table today.  It was the kind of Christmas that I remember from before my life was touched by tragedy.    We were missing one brother and his family that were at his inlaws, but my youngest brother brought his girlfriend and my sister brought her father in law.

I am so grateful to have my family around us and to be able to cook and entertain everyone.  It was a very nice day.

Why I go out on Black Friday....

The first time I went shopping on Black Friday was the same year that Robert died. 

My best friend who had done her very best to help me survive to that point invited me to go out with her and her husband and her sister and her husband.  Really, she sorted blue bins, laughed with me, cried with me, made scrapbooks out of Roberts letters to me, looked at the paperwork that was coming in from the accident with me.  Answered the phone at all hours, really.   Hmmm...shopping at the butt crack of dawn with only grown ups.   Sounded like fun, so I went with it. 

I looked at my budget and decided that I would go.  That first Thanksgiving was horrible for me.  I cried most of the day.   My pain was so raw, because Thanksgiving was one of Robert's favorite holidays. 

But, black Friday shopping was the FIRST new tradition that I started for myself.   It was the first time that I did something that had no memory of Robert attached to it. 

And I had fun.  It was busy, there were lines, but we were in good spirits and had fun looking for stuff for the kids.   Man, I made a HAUL and didn't even come close to spending my budget!

Afterwards, we went to breakfast and we laughed and joked, I felt included and not widowed for those few hours. 

Over the years, we have morphed a little bit.  Her husband stays home and tends to her kids, glad that he doesn't have to go shopping.   One year, we didn't go because my immediate family had an out of town Thanksgiving, but she did get my stuff for Munchkin for me.  

Even though we have evolved, yesterday something struck me.   This is one of the very few times a year that we get to hang out as just us.   We have fun.  We laugh, we talk and shop.  Perhaps in another 30 years, we will still be doing this and be those CRAZY old people out on Black Friday...but we do have a pact-we CANNOT wear fuzzy awful shirts and polyester pants.  Yoga pants and hoodies are however fair game!

Now, so many years later, I can see how awesome it was that I "accidentally" started a new tradition that I look forward to and enjoy. 

Couches and Memories

A few years before Robert died, we bought new living room furniture.  It was the first time we bought furniture that wasn't second hand.  They were super soft and comfy.  The couch was great for snuggling and the love seat had two reclining couches with armrests in the middle.  

We made great memories on those couches, both good and bad.  We rocked munchkin to sleep together.  We snuggled our son and our puppies and we were a family on those couches. 

At the literal last minute I moved them to Chicago with me.  They were in my mom and dad's den and I missed him horribly on those couches.  

When I moved to an apartment a few years later, I moved them with me.   It was traumatic.  His spot on the couch and his recliner were empty and it made me miss him even more.  I would sit at night in my spot and look at his and cry. 

So, my sister and her husband had some couches and we were doing a house/apartment swap anyway.   I offered her my blue couches for her green ones.  We swapped.  It worked.  When I went to her house, it was generally full, and I didn't miss Robert because I wasn't staring at the empty space alone and in the quiet. 

I then had a friend who was getting rid of all of her living room furniture and I took it.  It was awesome.  My sister put her green couches in her basement family room. 

Fast forward a few years and they decided to get new furniture for their living room.   She asked if I wanted them back, I said yes.  I had been looking at living room furniture but hadn't found anything I liked enough and was willing to pay for. 

My brothers brought those couches over, then mom came and helped me arrange my living room.  It looked nice.  I had the couches cleaned and we settled into a routine.  However, the same thing happened, I put Munchkin to bed and I would sit in my place and I would see him in his empty spot.  The tears would start to fall. 

My brain and my heart know that particular spot was his.  It was as if I could feel the emptiness.  I could physically react to the memories that were built on that furniture.  Munchkin learned to walk holding on to that couch.  Robert recovered from multiple back surgeries in the recliner.  

I knew I needed to make a change.  I don't want to go back to those memories and crying everyday again.  I have come too far to let something draw me back. 

SO, I when I went shopping and the set that I had been looking at for months was finally at a reasonable price, I bought it.

I gifted the couch and the loveseat to separate houses that will hopefully have a great use for them and I did myself the favor of removing the negative memories.   I have found that sometimes, it is better to put things out of sight or simply to let go of things that are too painful. 

Fun

Last night I had the opportunity to go to an adult night out.  Like grown ups, all grown ups! And I went. I got dolled up and I drove a few towns away and I went.  I didn't chicken out when I had to park half a mile away and walk by myself in the dark.   I didn't chicken out earlier in the day when Munchkin was coughing up crud.   It didn't even cross my mind to back out.  

Granted it was for PTA and I knew most of the people, but I still went.   And this is huge progress.   I no longer find an excuse to not leave the house.  I don't dread being the odd man out and being the only single person in the room.   

For years, I avoided going out socially after Robert died.   It was mentally exhausting to even think about hanging out with people.  I didn't want to keep rebelling my story, and I hated feeling alone.    Now, I'm used to the alone.  I am used to being me instead of we,  and most times, I can enjoy myself as long as there isn't any trigger for me.  

We had fun.  A bunch of people were bowling and others of us were just hanging out and talking.   I was pretty quiet, but I had fun.  

I enjoyed seeing people and not chasing munchkin around at a breakneck pace.  So much fun, that I really should do this more often! 

Memories and remembering

My cousin is graciously putting together a family calendar for everyone.  One calendar with a page for each family that belongs to one of The TEN.  Yep, my dad is one of ten kids, you did read thy correctly.  

I procrastinated.  I didn't send her anything of our family (mom, dad, siblings, nieces and nephews).  I really dropped the ball. 

She posted a preview.  On our family page was a ton of pictures but smack dab in the middle was my wedding picture.   Robert and I smiling.   My heart swelled.  Here, in our family calendar without being asked to do so, she included him.   

I can't express how much that means to me.  There are so many times I feel like my marriage and my husband gets forgotten and yet, here is a reminder that other people around me do remember.  

I'm feeling so loved by such a simple gesture.  My heart is full and I am delighting in the fact that people besides me have sweet memories of Robert and of he two of us together.  

First World Problems...

My first encounter with something that was a "first world problem" came over a decade ago. 

Robert was working at Target.   He had been off with me for a few days as I had just had a miscarriage.  We were fairly early into our marriage and it was devastating for both of us.  

He went back to work to close, and I decided to bring him dinner on his break.   I was up front talking to some people when a person came to the return desk and chewed out this cashier because the top sheet and bottom sheet in a set didn't match exactly.  The cashier apologized for the inconvenience and gave her a refund.   She asked to speak with a manager, and the cashier paged Robert.   This lady proceeded to berate him and I jumped in.  I told her "Wow, if that is the biggest problem that you have in your life, you should be thankful!"  and I meant it. 

Fast forward several years, for a long time, I have not had the luxury of thinking about "first world problems".  I have been in a constant state of battle.   In the last week, I decided that I was going to have my house painted inside.  When I bought it a year ago, everything inside was beige and white, very boring, but not high on my priority list.  

I had a painter come in yesterday and offered to do it very reasonably.   He left me paint sample chips and told me to pick colors.   After about ten minutes, I was stressed, because there are 400,000 different shades of tan.  Seriously, so I made a tongue in cheek post on facebook about being stressed picking colors. 

In my mind, I was giving thanks for having the "problem" of picking paint colors.   I am so blessed beyond belief that my gratitude of having the "problem" of picking paint is the biggest pressing thing at the moment.  I am thankful that I have the perspective in my life to know that this really isn't a problem at all, but a luxury.   

In the end, I told him to pick a "tan" that is in stock so that we can just get the painting done!