Happy Heart

Robert LOVED woodworking.  He learned from his grandfather and used to tell me how sad he was when his grandfather died.  One of his early memories was putting a thing that he made into the coffin at his funeral and then seeing the funeral director remove it and throw it away (he did go rescue it from the trash at the tender age of 6). 

Given his love—I had kept most of his woodworking tools—the power newer ones and the hand tools (mostly his grandfather’s) that he used.  

Munchkin is 8—and wanted to build his own pinewood derby car.  I decided that it was the right time to pull out the tools. 

I hauled the big bins out to the garage—and we looked at what he had.  Munchkin had drawn the model for his car and then carefully marked the cuts. I only had one minor issue that I needed to call my brother to figure out—but other than that everything is still in working order!

Munchkin is big enough to reach the work bench.  I used the scroll saw to make the big cuts and Munchkin carefully and meticulously used the hand tools to shape and sand his car.    He has earned his whittling chip in Scouts so he knows how to safely use tools and cut away from himself.  I was relegated to a space outside of his safety circle. 

I stood there and watched him.  He was careful and smiley and did things the way that he wanted to do them.  He carefully touched the wood to ensure that it was smooth enough and sanded away any rough spots his little finger found.   As I watched, I realized that the connection to Robert is starting to come full circle.  That even though he wasn’t here to teach Munchkin himself, by using his tools and answering his questions, that was connection between them.

It is nearly eight years since the accident, and Munchkin was a baby-so it sometimes hurts my heart on all that they missed together.  Today—instead of hurt, I was able to see the joy of a young boy using his father’s tools.  That joy—that joy makes my heart happy.  

The Spotlight

Have you ever been in a room full of people and you look around and realize that you don't belong?  That for some strange reason, you are in a room full of strangers who have nothing in common with you?  It is a very isolating feeling.  

That is exactly what happened earlier this week.   Munchkin is old enough for Cub Scouts.  He is over the moon excited for this.  He has been looking forward to it since his older cousin started a year ago.  

This week was his first pack meeting.  It was crowded and loud and he made friends and had a ton of fun! He was laughing and playing and following directions.  I could not have had a happier boy on my hands.  

I on the other hand, I sat in my seat and looked around at all of the families.  I felt like there was a HUGE SPOTLIGHT on me.  Like I stood out as a sore thumb. 

Over there-yep, she is the one without a husband.  Look at her here all alone.  

I know that it is only in my brain and no one certainly did anything to make me feel this way, it is just how I feel when we go into a situation that is surrounded by families.  For some reason, I thought being in a pack with my brother and uncle would make it less so-perhaps it will over time, but it did not help this week.  I came home and I cried.  The bitter painful tears of a broken heart.  I cried for me and I cried for Robert.   See, he didn't get to do scouting.   His dad did it with his older brothers but he was never afforded the opportunity.  He never actually camped ever.  I am from a scouting family.  We are all scouts and all camp and do things and volunteer.  It is how we were raised.   Robert was so looking forward to doing scouting with his son and us as a family.  Perhaps that is really why it is so painful for me to do alone.  This was one of those preconceived family things that I am now doing by myself.  NOT FAIR! 

I also know that it isn't fair for me to hole us up indoors alone, so we go out and do things.  We join scouts, we do family activities at school.  We show up and we do.  I know that our family is not unique.  I get that.  I know there are plenty of widowed moms and dads in the world.  Just wish there was one or two kindred spirits in our circles.  Then I feel horrible for wishing that, because I would not want ANYONE to go through this heartache and pain.  I actually wish that this didn't happen in the world.  You know, you get married, you have your family, your live happily ever after and no one dies, and no one has pain and heartache and grief.  Unfortunately, the world is not full of puppies and rainbows and vanilla scented unicorn farts! It is messy and hard and painful, but it is worth it.   

This weekend is the family camp out.  We are packed and ready to go.   My brother will be staying with his son, his wife will be at home with their daughter.   From what I understand, most families will be "half" families.   This knowledge doesn't help me feel less lonely.  For some reason it makes it more so.