Looking for Steady Ground

In a marriage, you have two people. Like a table there are four legs on the ground.  If one leg gets a little wobbly or looses its footing temporarily, there are three other legs to shoulder the load and an extra set of hands to help rearrange that 4 legged table into a three legged table.   That extra set of hands helps make sure that nothing important gets left by the wayside and that the load is balanced so that the table can keep on functioning like a table should.  

I miss my four legged table with an extra set of hands....a two legged table is more like an unsteady stack of Lincoln logs....take away one of the little bitty stacking pieces on one side-even for a minute and it is wobbly and threatens to topple.  Even if it doesn't topple, the load is unbalanced, messy and precariously perched.   You know, when everything goes nuts all at once, and you are standing there like, whoa, wait just a minute here, I am just one person being pulled in a million directions!

Dare I say that I am used to the unbalanced feeling of being stretched too thin? What I really miss is that other grown up in the house.  The one who would help me do everything and would tell me that everything will be ok.   Even something as simple as getting the dishes done or running to the grocery store could be handled with a divide and conquer approach which ultimately made us stronger.  Grocery store, check, laundry, check, dinner, check, clean house, check, homework, check, work done, check....and on and on.   When one of us was overloaded in some area, the other picked up the slack.   No, there is no one to pick up slack and some stuff falls aside.  

Even though my little Lincoln log tower is trusty and proven, I don't have all the answers.  I am constantly second guessing whether I am good enough, whether I am making the right choices.  I worry about being an only parent.  I worry about the stuff that gets left to the wayside.  

I know wishing to have a four legged table back is useless, so I will just have to find a way to work with what I do have....perhaps I can turn my Lincoln log tower into a cool bridge??? 

Taking a Pass

As Munchkin's only parent, there is not much I get to take a pass at.   I'm the one who makes him eat his veggies, puts him in time out, stays up with him when he is sick, does homework with him.   I'm the one who talks to him when his feelings get hurt or when things don't go his way.   I am his only protector.  

Th entirety of the life of a single parent is too much for most people to fathom.  Being the only grown up in a house is beyond exhausting.   But I live it every day.   I rarely, very rarely take a pass at anything.   There have been occasions where my sister or mom has pushed me out the door while they babysat with clear instruction to go have fun.   That is about the extent of it.   

I do have a line in the sand.  When he had a spider bite and needed wound packing, I held him, mom did it.   We all cried.... 

When he pulled the skin glue off the gash in his forehead....I couldn't bear to mess with the cut....we went back to the pediatrician and he did it.   I took a pass on those, not because they are gross but because I can't bear to see Munchkin hurt, and having me cause any of the hurt is inconceivable. 

He has had some warts on the bottom of his foot.  I have been treating them with the OTC crap for weeks to no avail.   Today we had a dr appointment for his asthma and I called and asked if we could kill two birds with one stone (copay).   The dr did his thing, froze and removed them.   Then I showed him where he had one by the nail that had fallen off but still looked funny.   He said that I just needed to pull the last piece out.   I laughed and responded, "go ahead".  Literally those were the words that came out of my mouth.   Sometimes I'm so flippant I shock myself.   But, that's my line.   In pulling that last little bit out, it was going to hurt munchkin and I was not about to do that.   The doctor looked at me, chuckled and did it. He remembered our last conversation about this.   

 I am Munchkin's mom.   It is just us.  I have a line.   I have pulled out splinters, applied bactine and peroxide to scrapes, I have even pulled out ticks and stingers.   I will do what I have to do, but given the choice, I will let the doctor hurt him for a second and I will hug him and let him squeeze my hand.   

So today I had the rare occasion to take a pass and I did.   

Sometimes the tears still sting

I heard a song tonight that I haven't heard in a long time.   It belongs in another chapter of my life,   At first I didn't recognize the actual song, I did however recognize the memory.   I was transported back to my living room back in Texas.   Robert and I used to dance and sing for no reason and for no occasion other than we were in love.  We had fun.  We were silly, we were goofy and we were in love.  We were so in love, there really aren't words to quantify the emotions. 

"Tell you a story, happened long time ago..." 

"Little bitty pretty one, I've been watching you grow!"

 

For a split second I closed my eyes and I could feel him.  Feel his cheek on mine, his hand on the small of my back and his other hand entwined in mine.  I could feel his breath on my neck as we sang together.   I could feel the vibration of the music and see the puppies dancing around our feet.   For a brief instant the memory was so vivid it was almost tangible.  I could smell him, hear his laugh.  I could feel him.  Then I opened my eyes and it was gone.   In a split second I snapped back to reality.   The world is now without Robert. 

So here I sit tonight remembering, listening to some of our songs.   The songs that were so integral to our marriage, to our life.   Songs that will forever be associated with US.
 

I sit here alone and the tears are barely held back.  Just barely.  They are hot stinging tears...every so often, one slips silently down my cheek and when Robert isn't here to wipe it away, it hits again and again that he is gone.  He is not here to hold me, to put his hand at the base of my neck and use his thumb to wipe my tears.  He isn't here to tell me he loves me.     I miss the comfort of his love and protection.   I miss the fun  we used to have.   

All I have is my memories, so I will sit with those awhile and know that tomorrow is a new day, and perhaps tomorrow's memory will bring a smile instead of a tear.  

Not Ready for School

I have a secret...I am really NOT ready for school to start. 

Not ready to send Munchkin on to first grade, not ready for homework.
Not ready to be making lunches everyday.
Not ready to meet a new teacher-for either of us!
Not ready to share my Munchkin again.

This summer has been pretty awesome.  Tons of time with family and at the pool and beach, but also tons of time just together.  Reading, exploring, playing.  We have had squirt gun fights, water balloon fights, endless games of tag. 

We have laughed A LOT!  He has gotten to enjoy a ton of camps and then come home and excitedly shared his day with me.  It has been magical. 

I am not ready for it to end at ALL!  I enjoy having him home with me and I enjoy our time. 

But in all honesty, what I am really not ready for is to explain us again.  Countless times.  I am not ready for a whole new set of people to have to ask where Robert is, then give me that pity look when I say he is dead.  I honestly don't know why the pity look bothers me. It is far better for a stranger to show emotion than to be indifferent.  I am not ready for a new teacher to ask Munchkin to draw a picture of his family and then call me up when it looks "weird".   Yes it is normal for us to have all his aunts and uncles, Nana and Papa in the picture....and yes the floating head in the clouds that he labels Daddy---well he has done that since he was 2.   His understanding of Heaven is that it is in the clouds-so there Daddy is drawn.  And I am not ready for the seasoned teacher to tell me that she has only ever had a handful of kids who have lost a parent to death.  Ever.  In her whole career. 

I am NOT READY for these conversations.  

But at the end of the day, I am the grown-up.  The only one in our house and since I sincerely want Munchkin to enjoy school, I will suck it up.  I will look to all of the new things he gets to do this year and I will get excited with him.  We will go shopping for school supplies and we will gather up all of the other things around the house.  We will do this with a smile on my face because I know the best thing I can do for him is show him excitement about school. 

I will pray every day for him as I send him off and I will trust God that things will be exactly as they are supposed to be because that is what I do. 

Half

We had defined sides of the bed for sleeping.  I was always on the left side of the bed, he was always on the right.  It just was. 

It has been over five years since the day he died, however I still find myself on the left side of the bed.  I now have a smaller bed that has been in three different places in three different bedrooms and the result is still the same...I stay perched on my side, and his stays empty. 

Even though I know...it isn't HIS side, never was, he never slept in this bed, he never slept on these sheets, he never used these pillows or blankets.  Heck--he has never even stepped foot into my house.  I know this.   My brain knows it, I am pretty sure that my heart knows it.

At night, there is an icy chill that emanates from his side of MY bed.  It creeps over to me and just reminds me that I am alone.  That I don't have anyone to share my bed.  That Robert is gone, and not just gone, but he. is. dead.  He is never coming back and I will NEVER again spend a night nestled safe in his arms with my head on his chest.  Really this feeling of icy loneliness is getting very old. 

I have done everything that I can think to do.  I decorated my bedroom.  I selected a beach theme and enlisted my mom who is awesome at decorating to help me pull it together.  I have a beautiful painting, new sheets and comforter.  A really cool lamp and other accessories.  I selected my bedroom so that the light comes in and spills over the bed in the morning.  It is bright and warm and cozy.  But it hasn't helped.    The ice still fills the room in the dead of night. 

So I take a deep breath and I suck it up and I lay down and I go to sleep.   In the morning I awake and it is the same thing over again.   I am alone and there is no one in my bed besides me....well unless Munchkin is sick and has wandered into mommy's bed in the middle of the night, then I am usually awakened at a pre-dawn hour by a squirmy octopus in my bed.

Don't you know, kids grow extra limbs and flail them endlessly when they are in your bed, in their own beds--they sleep perfectly still and awake in the same position that you kissed them goodnight. 
So I kiss Munchkin good morning and look around and I say a prayer of thanks for all of the things that I do have and I hope that one day, this particular feeling fades to a distant memory. 

International Widows Day

Yesterday was International Widows Day as declared by United Nations. 
While things are not rosy here in the USA for Widows, at the very least we don't have customs that strip us of other rights. 

Around the globe, there are people that are widowed that then have to face losing their house, their children, their property.  They may be forced to marry a member of their husband's family.  They may not be allowed to actually own property which means that they along with their children could be out on the street.  WOW, talk about perspective.   I had to sell my house, but it was mine to sell.  I moved across the country and lived with my parents but that was MY choice.  I had choices.  I know I am lucky.

Yesterday, Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation took the opportunity to feature love stories of widows on their FB page.  

Our love story was lucky enough to be picked.  I was so excited to share Robert's smile and love with other people.  It actually made me happy to be able to share him and our history with other people.   I thought that it would be hard, but really it wasn't.  I was excited to have other people have a glimpse into us and our love before our world was shattered. 

As I looked through all of the posts, I saw happy and smiling people.  I saw that before everyone was shattered, we smiled.  We were happy. Before we were shattered we were happy. 

This is something that I hadn't really put a lot of thought to.  I know we were happy, I know we had a great marriage, I say it all the time.  But SEEING our happiness with my own eyes, that was a new perspective.  So while yesterday was all about advocating and bringing to light circumstances around the globe, what it really did was open my eyes.  It opened my eyes to the pure joy that I used to feel and instead of making me sad, it made me want to have that again. 

Mother's Day

What a day.  My mothers day started yesterday actually.  Munchkin and my mom and dad and brother planted flowers in my flower beds.   My sister and her husband gave me a massage certificate.   Munchkin made his uncle take him to pick out flowers for me.  I am a simple girl, flowers and handmade cards are the way to my heart!

Munchkin made me a heart that he wrote I Love you on all by himself. 

Today we started at mass and had a fantastic day.   Dad cooked breakfast, my sister hosted dinner.  In the middle we got a great deal of yard work done.  I am very lucky.  I know that. 

 For YEARS and YEARS I yearned to be a mother.   I used to cry and pray and wish. And it happened, when we least expected it,  it happened. We became parents.  Wholehearted bliss.  I cannot begin to describe the sheer joy that I felt on Mother's Day 2007.  Munchkin was barely two weeks old.  Robert went to the jeweler and got me a necklace with one diamond, and one emerald.  Mine and Munchkin's birthstones.  It was such a special day.  It was the only one with the three of us together.  Robert is the only one who knows exactly what we went through for all of those years.  

I know there are people out there that are not that lucky.  People trying to have kids or grow their family via adoption.  People who have lost children. People that have lost their mothers.   My brother in law lost his mom about a month ago.  He spent the weekend with his dad and sisters.   I know it is hard on him. 

My point is that while I had a blissful day today,   I do know that the occasion can be a bitter pill, I know it was for me for many years.   So today, I snuggled with my growing boy and watched river monsters at the end of the day and I took a deep breath and I thank God for the chance to be a Mother and be able to spend time with my family.   And I hope that all those out there that are feeling things other than joy today find some peace and hope and comfort.  

Eye of the Storm

Have you ever lived through a hurricane?  When they talk about the "calm before the storm" or the "eye of the storm" it is a real thing and it is eerie.

We went through several while we lived in Houston.  The eye is a surreal experience.  You have been pounded and pounded by wind and rain and then it stops.   Just as suddenly, it stops.   It is quiet and calm, and on more than one occasion, the sunshine came out for a bit and the animals started to peek out.   

Then BAM! Out of nowhere it starts again, the wind the rain, the hail.  It is relentless.  

When you come out the other side, when the storm finally passes, you hope that is the end.  You look and you see the sun, you see the debris, you see the damage.  You see your neighbors.   Everyone is helping.  You chat, you wonder if there will be any "trailing".   You know, other storms that follow the hurricane. 

Grief is kind of like that.  At first it beats you up.  The wind howls, the tears fall, you rock yourself to try and find some solace.  It takes a lot of time but believe it or not, you actually get used to the storm and you start to slowly go about your daily duties.  You get dressed, you do the dishes, you do housework.   After such a long time of being under siege, you are used to functioning at that same capacity.   You wipe your tears, you sleep when you are too exhausted to cry.  If you are lucky you have a great support system to cheer you on. 

One day you wake up, and you smile.  A nearly imperceptible smile, but a smile nonetheless.  You are in the eye of the storm.  You go about your life, you put one food in front of the other you notice the sun on your face, you feel a gentle breeze.  You survey the changes in you and the changes around you. 

You hope and you pray that it is a big eye.   That the storm give you enough of a break to actually clean up and repair a little bit.  You look at the storm behind you and you are grateful that you survived.  You don't take your time in the eye for granted.  Oh no, you know that the other side of the storm looms.  You have no idea when it will hit, but you know in your soul that it will. 

You feel it come, the winds whip at your face and the tears start to fall.   Perhaps it was because you smelled something or touched something that reminded you of life before the storm.  But know this, when you are in the second side of the storm, you stand a little taller, you don't hunker down quite as long.  You have done this once.

The knowledge that you have already survived the worst gives you the strength to stand up and move.  It doesn't stop the tears and the pain, but it does give you the fortitude to push through.   After all, nothing that the second side of the storm throws at you will be as shocking or as crazy as when the storm first came to uproot your life.   You know you can do this because you can.

 It doesn't mean that you go  running and chasing hurricanes-it simply means that when they come to rest at your door, you know that you can survive what they bring. 

The Sleepless Lesson

The other night I had a sleepless night.   They are now few and far between-I am grateful.  It used to be that a night of rest was the rarity!

I digress, those who have insomnia can attest that there is NOTHING good on TV at 3 am.  Perhaps that is by design, but really when you are trying to shut off your brain, some mindless TV goes a long way!     When we lived with mom and dad after the accident, I used to leave the TV on all night.   I couldn't handle the emptiness of my bed and compound that with the silence of my room...well, I had to have some background noise.  So now, when I can't fall asleep I turn on the TV and it usually helps. 


As I was laying there willing myself to sleep I heard a song.  It spoke to me.  

 

"Lift the darkness, Light a fire,

For the silent and the broken hearted"

 

"There's a comfort there's a healing

High above the pain and sorrow

Change is coming, can you feel it?

Calling us to a new tomorrow. "

 

"STAND UP, SUGARLAND"

Wow, just wow.  Those lyrics were exactly what I needed to hear.  I promptly downloaded the song (Shazaam rocks :) ) and fell asleep.

So for the last few days I have been listening to the song.  It is all about using your voice and standing up for those around us.  I have been thinking about what it is that I am supposed to be doing.   What is the lesson that God is trying to show me?  Sometimes He is subtle, sometimes, not so much.  Sometimes, I doubt there is purpose in my writing and sharing of my feelings.  I know that I didn't start publishing until I was widowed for a very long time (relative to a lot of the other blogs out there).  But here is my secret-there were a few widows that I met early on both in person and in their writing that were much farther out.   They shared where they were in their journey with me and it gave me hope.  It showed me that people can be ok and people can be happy and that I too could survive.   Not only survive but thrive in my new life. 

This is not the life that any of us ordered, however, I can tell you that there is peace, there is happiness and takes time.  There are still bad days-but now for me they are few and far between.  The nighmares fade with time and the memories now bring a smile.  Take a deep breath, the storm will clear and eventually you will catch a glimpse of the beautiful blue sky!  Just hang on and keep swimming!

That's what little boys are made of....

Oh what a whirlwind of a weekend! Party at a friends house...time with my brothers, building pinewood derby car..cooking, baking cuddling and reading!

So at this party...Munchkin learned how to climb the walls....literally. Where did he learn this? Well from his buddies...twins a year almost to the day older than him.

Tonight I'm cooking, and he calls to get my attention and was literally climbing the walls. Now, my first reaction was shock...I mean who does that? BOYS that's who! I couldn't help but laugh! See what THEY taught me mom?

I was overcome with gratitude! I mean, I am just not wired to think of these things. I never would have thought to show him the joys of climbing the wall like a spider monkey. Nope. Never. Reading, spelling, singing, cooking, cleaning...got those covered! I can even discuss gross things like snakes and spiders. Climbing...nope not even on my radar!

The fact that we are surrounded by people that love us enough to accept us still, well it is beyond words. Why do I say still? Because, this is the same family that in 2008 and 2009 graciously welcomed us constantly into their home, listened to my sobs, tears and fears, and they still don't slam the door and turn off the lights :) When I say constantly, I mean constantly. Like almost daily. When I say sobs, I mean the horrible messy sobs that necessitated the husband taking all five kids (their four and my one) outside or on a walk while she sat with me and listened. The ones who answer the phone and texts for help regularly and I'm pretty sure they have never told me no. Did I mention that she is my best friend's sister and I have known her pretty much forever? That my best friend comes up here from 2 hours away and does the same for me. Yep that family. In terms of friends, I know that I have some very rare gems :) The fact that those same people have children that are kind, carefree and well just plain rambunctious boys...even better!

Battle scars

Sometimes the biggest battle scars cannot been seen from the outside. Really, if you were to encounter someone without visible scars, would you know by looking at them, that their life had been ripped apart? That they carry wounds of the heart and soul? Wounds that cut to the very core of their being? That they had survived horror that usually is found only in nightmare? Hmm...nope...

But, battle scars are exactly what they are. Several months ago, I was struggling, a lot, having flashbacks of the accident, nightmare again. When I spoke to a very dear friend of mine (who also happens to be widowed and a licensed therapist) he had some really great thoughts.

He said that sometimes, you have to acknowledge the scars that no one else can see. It can help to "touch" and explore them and then acknowledge to yourself that yes, that was really bad, and damn, that scar still hurts. Most importantly that it is ok to do this, especially when these scars and wounds are fighting for attention in our minds.

At the time, it didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, I mean really...they are not scars, I walked away from the accident without a physical scratch. Perhaps it has taken me almost five years to admit that I have scars, that I do indeed suffer from battle wounds. Perhaps now, that I have acknowledged the wounds, and really taken some time to explore them, perhaps, now they can heal?

I pray often for strength and for endurance, I don't know at I have ever asked God to heal my heart. I have often relied on the scriptures that promise that God will care for the widows and fatherless children. I have given many of my struggles to Him. At times I feel that there is a purpose in this, perhaps I am meant to share those scars so that others can see that it is possible to persevere? In all honesty that is why I started writing here, In 2008 I was blessed to engage with some widows who were farther along than me...I could see that they were OK-they were surviving and some of them were thriving. Perhaps, by showing my battle scars some of you can see it is possible to be OK?

in the quiet

Sometimes it is just too quiet.  The silence around me makes the thoughts in my heart deafening.  Usually resulting in tears.  Not the silent dripping down my cheeks tears-but the messy sobbing pain of a broken heart. 

Now, thankfully, these episodes are not daily anymore, not weekly or even any predictable regularity.  I am grateful for that. 

I don't think that the pain has lessened from losing Robert.  I think that I have just become used to the void.  Used to the scars, the empty feeling.  I have chosen not to give my brokenness power over the rest of my life.   I am glad that I have made that choice.  That for the most part I can be in the present moment and enjoying time with Munchkin or completing tasks at hand.  

There are times however, where a memory will reach up and slap me.  At those times, I cannot help but to feel my broken heart.  To feel the pain of losing him.  It is crushing, it is earth shattering and it is horribly unfair.  Those are the times that generally result in the sobbing previously mentioned. 

I have a favorite quote: "Take PRIDE in how far you have come, and FAITH in how far you can go"

I try and force myself to take a step back and realize that even though at that moment, I feel horrible-that I really have come very far.  I am not crying 24/7.  I am no longer paralyzed by memories-and at times I can even enjoy sweet memories.  Nightmares and flashbacks of the accident are no longer constant...and dare I say have faded to few and far between.  So yes, I have come very far in the past few years, so I just have to remember that as bad as it feels at that moment, that it will get better...it has gotten better over time and that it will be OK!

It takes a village...

A very long lifetime ago there was a book written by Hillary Clinton called "it takes a village".  Here is a confession...I didn't read it then, I still haven't read it now.  But let me tell ya, it takes a village!

In the past week:
--My mom and brother hid valentines at my house for my son to give to me
--my other brother babysat for a few hours so I could go out with some girlfirends
--My Brother in law picked munchkin up from school, took him to TaeKwonDo, fed him and put him to bed so that I could attend a business dinner
--My brother came over before 6 am, got munchkin up, fed him breakfast, made sure he actually grabbed all of his crap AKA homework and carted him off to school on time, so that I could give a presentation at work early in the morning.
--my mom picked up some groceries and then offered to cook them with hers if I could bring by some ziplock bags, I would have frozen meals in my freezer to pull out and serve (Seriously, I have NO CLUE what I am going to do when she retires and moves away!)
-my brother was the second set of hands to reprogram the garage door opener after he changed the battery...seriously, I can't move fast enough to get from the keypad to the door!
-My best friend took the time to give me no less than 3 pep talks on the fact that everything will be just fine
-mom was on chat with me at 10pm at night--way past her bedtime helping me debate to call the pediatrician then or wait until 8 am when they opened (you know the usual spousal support!)

So yes, it takes a village, while all of these things seem insignificant to some people, the sum total of all of the love and support that we recieve, well it is simply amazing. 

I am thankful that I belong to such an amazing family!

Knowledge

Munchkin is five. In my mind, that means his world should be consumed by Legos, dirt, laughter and adventure. My wish has always been for him to be a happy healthy child. In fact, that is my prayer to God every day.

In reality, he understands things that he should not have to. Things like death, and heaven and angels. He understands these things so well, that when a teacher in preschool told him that he was an angel-he burst into tears! He told her he didn't want to be an angel because he didn't want to be dead.

The fact that he can make these connections, well it just plain astounds me, In the next breath, it makes me sad. I cannot control the world around us, and I cannot protect him from knowledge that he shouldn't have at his age, I am fairly certain that none of his peers know what death is, the may have a fuzzy concept of heaven from church but they positively have not lost a parent.

As I navigate our reality and explain things to him on his level...it breaks my heart that we even have to have these discussions. I answer his questions when he asks, openly and honestly while at the same time, asking God to comfort both of us.

Because really, how do you help your child understand the inexplicable challenges that the world has thrown at us, when you as an adult can barely grasp them?

Balancing Act

Let me start this by saying first off that I know that all parents face some of these issues, so please don't think that I don't know that two parent households (especially those with multiple kids!) face a lot of what I talk about below on a daily basis.  However, this knowledge that I am not alone, doesn't really make me feel any less alone.  I hope that makes sense to you.

Munchkin is asthmatic, in the grand scheme of childhood diseases, not so bad, I get that, and I am grateful. However, when his lungs get inflamed, Murphy's law applies. Now I am Irish, so I should be used to Mr. Murphy by now, but really, I wish he would go take a vacation and never bother our family again!

Since mid-December Munchkin has had: Strep Throat, Influenza A, Pneumona, we had roughly 7 days of "better" (meaning breathing treatments were only every 6 to 8 hours instead of every 3 hours!) then we had another strain of Influenza, 2 days of "better" and now viral pneumonia and RSV (for those not acquainted with respiratory stuff, the last two pretty much go together and are bad for a normal kid, for an asthmatic kid--usually results in a multi day hospital stay, at least with us!)

So since December I have lost track of the number of times we have seen or called our pediatrician.  Let me tell you, he is awesome and very well acquainted with us! He is patient and empathetic to Munchkin-from experience, not all pediatricians are so I count that as a huge blessing!

Here is the kicker, when we got admitted to the hospital early in the week, I was genuinely caught off guard.  I did not bring supplies to entertain him, changes of clothes for either of us, or even my laptop to do some work.  I really thought that when the nurse called back and said that doctor wanted to listen to him, that he would take a listen to his lungs, maybe adjust one of his meds and send us home.

When the doctor said that he needed to be admitted, I just went with it, I didn't have Robert here to tell me it would be OK.  I needed to swallow my feelings and reassure munchkin that it would be ok, that we would put some "superhero strength medicine in his arm and he would get better quick".  Mind you he is 5, needles are scary for him, IV's are no fun, and he was running a high fever and not able to breathe.  Thankfully, I did think to grab my "doctor office" bag, so I had a "blankie" for munchkin, a few books to read to him, a toy car and a pad of paper to entertain him.  That is it.  No games, no movies, no legos, not anything more to occupy him for more than about ten minutes at a time....and certainly not enough to entertain him for four long days. 


But really here is the thing, when you have a two parent household, you have someone on your side. You are a team, you can take turns comforting you child when they come to give him a treatment or coax him to cooperate when they want to listen to his lungs or any thing else that needs doing. In theory you have two voices to advocate for your child, and two people to look at idiots who suggest that you give a five year old a COUGH DROP to stop his wheezing---right, cause cough drops eliminate inflammation in the lungs and are not a choking hazard when a kid is coughing and wheezing so badly he cannot even speak....and let me tell you, Robert had a much better "ARE YOU AN IDIOT??" look than I do.   Maybe it is because he was a teacher and actually calling middle school and high school students an idiot is generally frowned upon, therefore he had more practice??  I don't know, I tend to revert to sarcasm.

We were very blessed with some phenomenal pediatric nurses that engaged him and made this whole thing as comfortable as possible for him.  He literally only threw one fit.  In the middle of the night, one of the nurses came in to do his vitals and he was only half awake and he fought her off like a NINJA!  Literally, she had gently grasped his wrist to take his blood pressure and was met with instinctive kicking and blocking and screaming that he has learned in TaeKwonDo to be able to get away from adults.   I'll go with being thankful that he has that instinctive reaction and feel better that he can defend himself, I did feel bad for the nurse who got kicked and made sure I was the one who called his name from there on out when he was sleeping so that he didn't have the same reaction.   I will file that story for a later date when I am sure it will be hilarious. 

The entire time we were there, I did not leave his hospital room.  Robert was not there to tell me to go and find some coffee--thankfully, we have added a few people to the "I really mean it when I ask you what I can bring you" category of friendship.  I am eternally grateful that as my support system modulates, it appears to be expanding for the crisis mode.  I was blessed with friends who supplied me with coffee, munchkin with coloring books and other activities to pass the time.  Family who came to visit us.  I know I am truly lucky to have people who are willing to help me.

The way that the local hospital handles kids is that your pediatrician is the primary doctor but then they have pediatricians on the floor that round on the kids hourly if needed, but at least twice a day.  We stayed on hourly to every two hours up until he turned the corner on the last day.  But they are not familiar with us, and they are not familiar with Munchkin.  Every time a new one came in "Mom, you look exhausted, can Dad come and let you have a break?" Thankfully, munchkin has my tact and wit---"Doctor, Daddy can't come back from Heaven!"  Which resulted in that shock followed by pity face, followed by "I'm so sorry, what happened?" Followed by me holding back tears "He died in a car accident, how is munchkin doing?"  Becuase really, we are here to get munchkin better, not to talk about my sad pathetic circumstances, ok? Having your child lying in a big hospital bed, feeling so crummy that they don't even move, joke or laugh, really that is torture enough for a parent, let's not relive other horrors, and there is no need to remind me that I am exhausted and alone, trust me I don't forget that-EVER!

Now the irony here, is that from talking to my other friends who have had kids in the hospital, usually one stays there and the other works or takes care of the other kids, so really having just mom there should not have been all that unusual.  

Now here is the other thing.  I am our sole income and sole support.  That means that FMLA (unpaid) isn't really an option.  So I have to maintain a work presence while still devoting my energy to Munchkin who needs his mommy, thankfully, I can do work at any time of the day, so that gets done between midnight and 3 am.   You know, once munchkin has calmed down enough from the steroids to pass out and get some sleep....instead of sleeping when he does, I have to boot up my laptop and dig in.  At least to make sure that the bare necessities are covered and hope that I'm not so sleep deprived that I make a mistake that comes back to bite me at a later date. 

So here I am, five days later.  We are home and I am extremely grateful.  My pipes froze, and my brothers dealt with them, installed a heater and thermostat in my crawl space so we should not have to deal with that again (THANKFULLY).  My mom cooked some nutritious food for us and went shopping and filled my fridge, I have three friends that have offered to run and do anything that needs doing, my brother shoveled my sidewalk and driveway and I have most of our laundry done.   But here is the thing.  We are still on breathing treatments every three hours around the clock.   So there really isn't much time for either of us to get much sleep...although he did pass out last night and slept for 7 hours and I just put the mask over his face.   But I am home alone with him, no one to give me a hug, tell me munchkin will be ok, tell me to go take a shower and a nap, tell me to relax.  It is just me and munchkin fighting through as best we can and praying that this is our last bout of this mess for a long while.  

And all the time that I am doing this and caring for us, I have to make sure that I keep up with work as well.  I know that I am blessed to be in a job that allows me to provide for us, but sometimes I just wish that it was not all on my shoulders, and at that time I think about one of my favorite quotes "When life is too much to stand, KNEEL!"  and I pray.  I thank God for all the blessings that he has bestowed on us and I ask him to continue to provide for us and I give my struggles for him.   I cannot change my circumstances, I cannot bring Robert back, I cannot make munchkin not have these lung issues, I cannot heal my broken heart, I can only have faith that God willl continue to provide for us.  I hold on to that faith to sustain me and know that tomorrow is another day.

Divine Intervention...

Well this week certainly has not gone as I planned. While I know that nothing generally goes as planned, planning a week isnt usually derailed this badly! 

When I looked at our week on Sunday it was chock full of stuff for both of us.  State testing for munchkin...his first round of "official" standardized testing in the world of academia, business trip for me, three presentations due for me, Taekwondo practice for munchkin.  A busy week--throw in a school holiday on Monday and the rest of the week gets busier. 


Tuesday morning, I get up, get him to school and head to the airport for my business trip.   Should have been an easy hour and a half flight.   As I am sitting in the airport, the school nurse calls to tell me that he needed his inhaler...she gave him his inhaler, while we were still on the phone, he improved and she sent him back to class. 

I am sitting in the airport literally debating getting on the plane or calling my boss and begging to skip the meeting.  As I am sitting there asking God for a sign, my flight is CANCELLED!  A mechanical issue took the plane our of srevice-and all passengers were put on standby for the next flight.   I emailed my boss to let him know.   As I was on the standby list for that flight, it was CANCELLED as well.  At that point I called my dad, I told him, I was not exactly sure what was going on, but I could feel in my bones that something was up.   So, my name rolled to another standby, and another and another.   After checking in with work, we decided that if I didn't get on the 4:30 flight, that I should just stay home and do a conference call in the morning.  Well, you guessed it...I didn't get on the flight...my name was stuck in perpetual standby all day. 

I headed home and went to pick up munchkin.  When I got to him, he looked HORRIBLE!  I got him in the car and headed home, when we got there his fever was 104.7!   Well, I called his doctor and the nurse put us in for an appointment at the end of the night.  

By the time we got there, his asthma was in full force...coughing, wheezing, gagging...the whole bit.  For those of you who have been lucky enough to never see your child gasp for air, let me assure you it is a terrifying thing to witness.   Needless to say, the doctor admitted him to the hospital that night, and we have been here for three days.   He has pneumonia and another respiratory virus.  

God really does work in mysterious ways.   He kept me here at home where my baby needed me to be!

TV and Reality

Ok, so I don't have a whole lot of time to watch TV...shocking I know!   I do have a few shows that I watch fairly regularly.   Private Practice has been at the top of that very short list for a while. 

Interestingly enough, the show has entertwined with my reality for a while.   There have been 2 widowers and a widow.   One of the widowers remarried and had a baby, he then died and she is now widowed.   I have watched how the show has done a decent job at trying to entertwine their sorrow into the show.  

This past week, Violet was speaking to friends of hers---she was flirted with by a man in a store and went running away in tears.   I totally relate to that....she cries a lot in the rest of the show....relate to that too.  Two things really struck me.  One scene she was in a breakroom crying and a friend tried to hug her becuase he didn't know what to say.  He then changed his mind and told her that 5 years ago, she would not have imagined that life would bring her to her dead husband, two years ago, she could not have imagined being a mother and a year ago she could not have imagined losing Pete.   He went on to tell her, that just becuase she can't see in her mind to look to tomorrow, that doesn't mean that it isn't there.   Her story doesn't end here. 

Now, realize that I am completely paraphrasing here.   But that mantra, really spoke to me.  It is one of those things that I have said to myself.   If someone had told me I would be a mother and a widow within the same twelve months, I would have thought that they were crazy...there was no way to imagine that ever happening.  

If someone had told me that I would survive and dare I say THRIVE in nearly five years of being alone....I would have that they were nutty....in those initial dark months, I could noth fathom surviving, let alone thriving, yet here we are. 

We have some days, and we have some bad days...but they are farther and farther between....sometimes I can go weeks, or months without crying now.  It doesn't change that I miss Robert fiercely.  It does not change the hole in my heart, it simply means that I have chosen to live in the present and to be present for myself and for my child.  

The episode ended with Violet speaking to her friends newborn baby girl.  She is telling her that life is a fairy tale...that she hopes her "story doesn't end with a dead prince".   She walks away and then turns around and comes back.  "Your story will NOT end with a dead prince, no fairy tale ends with a dead prince!"

That simple affirmation, while it may seem slightly morbid to some not acquainted with death and loss is really very hopeful.  

I had a fairy tale...I pray my fairy tale does not end with a dead prince either!

Simple Pleasures

Tonight as I tucked munchkin into bed, he announced that he was reading to me.  I laid down next to him and listened.   He is getting so big and so confident in his reading.  I am so proud of how hard he works at reading. 

This is bittersweet...we have been reading together everyday since he was born.  When Robert was here we read as a family.  I knew from my childhood, the best way to give him the gift of reading enjoyment was to read to him.   I have such fond memories of reading with my parents and grandparents.  I really wanted to give him the same.  So it began, on the first night home from the hospital, as we basked in the glow of new parenthood, we began our routine of reading to him. 

Today however, I realize that an imperceptible yet earth moving shift is taking place.  I am slowly but surely being sidelined.  He no longer needs help bathing or getting dressed-barely needs help with games or legos and now chooses to read to me.  I hugged him extra tight because I know that my baby boy is growing up-as he should.  Life moves on.  Often at breakneck speed.  Unless we stop for a moment to glance around, we miss it.

I am sure that all parents feel this duality-pride in how far their kids have come and a slight twinge at the realization that there is no going back to the time when our kids fully depended on us. 

I guess this is the point where families generally decide whether to start working on a sibling...unless of course that decision has been made for you. 

Grateful for Today...and for my brothers

Today was a great day.  About a month ago Munchkin went to the hardware store with one of his uncles.  This uncle started a tool collection with him and buys him a tool when they go together.  Well, the last time they were there, it was discovered that today was they day you could go and make a bird house for free using REAL tools! 

That was it, munchkin decided that he HAD to do it, and his uncle HAD to do it with him.  Uncle of course had agreed to take him and the date was set.  Munchkin had been counting down the days to today, even got up at midnight and tried to convince me to call Uncle and see if they could go NOW!

Well, Munchkin had a great day, using tools with his uncle, then they went to see a movie and we met up for lunch. 

I am so grateful that munchkin has uncles like this in his life.  He has people to step in and do things with him one on one.  They step up and they are willing to do it. 

One of his other uncles watches him every Monday night so that I can go to band.  They play together and generally watch whatever sport is in season. In fact, munchkin asked the other night when I was going back to band so that he and his uncle can have "man night" again.   This uncle also has agreed to take him to the father/son sport night coming up at our school. 

Yet another uncle includes munchkin in on things he does with his own son.  He is the cubmaster of the scout troop his son is in and will welcome Munchkin into the pack when he turns 6 in a few months.  This means that when the dads do the things with the Pack, munchkin will not be left out, or be the only one with a mom there--and I can feel at ease that my brother will care for him as his own. 

While no one can replace Robert in our lives, I must say that we are VERY VERY blessed to have such a great family! 

Blue Bins and Memories

So now Munchkin seems to be on the road back to healthy, the past week or so has really been about settling in.  Unpacking, sorting and arranging more stuff in the house. 

Honestly so much has been in storage since 2008, it is hard to know where to start.   I have found a bunch of stuff that I thought was lost.  It has been odd.  Still coming across his handwriting iin unexpected boxes.   Finding stuff and wondering what possesed me to actually pack it???

The BLUE BINS are almost gone!  Granted, some stuff has been repacked into green bins, but such is life right?  The blue bins were a reminder to me...they came from Texas and they have dutifully housed our tangible posessions all this time.  They reminded me of the horrid week of packing away our life, deciding what was important when in my heart, I knew that there was nothing in the house that was more important than HIM and that the simple fact that he would never come home again made everything else painful for me.  So painful, that I don't think that I functioned in any logical way for a very very long time. 

I think that the bins with the music were the most painful for me.  He was a music teacher, a musician and composer.  There are not words that can impart the meaning that music had in our lives.  We used to joke...I could play anything on paper, he could play anything on paper, but usually chose to embellish it somewhat!  Well, I sorted through music today.  All this time, I thought all the music was his, and honeslty, there is a HUGE amoung that is mine!  It is now sorted...Teaching stuff in one bin in the back of the closet.  My choral stuff close to that.  Elementary piano pulled up for munchkin to mess around with.  My band stuff front and center.  The piano is decorated nicely.  I have some pictures that I picked up to hang on the wall. 


It felt good to accomplish something that I had set aside for so long.  For nearly 5 years, I have avoided the music bins.  Well, today they are tackled.   I unearthed tons of memories, but thus far no tears.   This is huge for me.   For years, I could not even look at the blue bins, let alone open them without bursting into tears. 

My heart still aches for him and I still miss him, I always will, but for today, I am more focused on unpacking our house and moving into the future with Munchkin.  He deserves no less than my full love and attention.