My Bravest Moment

I entered the following essay in a contest, while I didn't win, I really enjoyed writing it.  It gave me the perspective of how far I have come and examining my choices was actually helpful for me in the present moment.  While most of this story is not new to those of you who have been following me, I still think that it is powerful in and of itself.


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In an Instant.

In April 2008, I made the impossible choice to move.   At the surface, moving doesn’t really sound impossible or brave, but brace yourself.   March 30, 2008, started as an ordinary and perfect morning.  We had been in the Hill Country of Texas for the long weekend.  We said goodbye to our friends and hit the road.   The sun was shining and it wasn't yet oppressively hot.

An hour or so later, my husband was killed in a car accident. In front of me.  I was in my car with our child by the Grace of God.   The accident decimated his car, and my car was totaled as well.  The sounds, smells and images of that morning are permanently ingrained into my brain.   I remember it like a choppy movie.  Some pieces I don’t remember.  Some pieces I wish I could forget.  

I remember screaming when I knew he was dead-long before anyone actually told me. I remember my car being assaulted by flying objects before I lost control.  I remember willing my car to stop and not go into the ravine.  I remember my brakes not working.  I remember seeing Robert’s car in my driver’s side mirror hanging shattered from the door of my car.   I remember looking back at Munchkin and seeing him hold his foot with one hand and waving with the other saying “bye-bye daddy, bye-bye daddy” while he smiled and laughed oblivious to the carnage that had just happened.  I remember not being able to get out of my car.  I remember getting out and pulling munchkin’s car seat and taking cover off of the road so that we didn't get hit by flying tires, front grills, transaxles, spraying gas and oil that other cars were driving through before emergency personnel were able to close the street.  I remember looking at the responding officer and thinking he looked like a child as he gingerly cleaned my husband’s blood and shattered glass from his wallet before he handed it back to me.    I do remember a friend being let through the barricade to stand by my side.  I remember praying.   I don’t remember crying, at least not then.  I remember feeding my child, on the side of the road overlooking my husband’s mangled car and body.   I was hours from home in the middle of nowhere with two totaled cars.  Most of my family was 1400 miles away.  Luckily my aunt and uncle were only a few hours away-they came and retrieve us. 

In the following hours, days and weeks, I did insurmountable things.  I donated my husband’s organs.   I made phone calls to tell people that Robert was dead.   I planned a funeral. I planned a wake.  I chose to ignore people who were being mean and spiteful.

I slept alone for the first time in 9 years.

I unlocked the door to our house realizing that Robert would never be there again.  EVER.  I marked my 32^nd birthday and our wedding anniversary.   I marked Munchkin’s first cupcake, the first meeting with my siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins-without Robert by my side.  I stood in a funeral home surrounded by chaos and sobbed.   I fainted in my kitchen.  Fairly certain I passed out at the wake, although I don’t remember much.   Well, except my 11 month old son trying to jump out of my arms and into the casket saying daddy, daddy over and over again.  All he wanted to do at the end of the wake was jump into there with Robert.  He looked at him quizzically, I am sure he thought that he was just asleep or playing a game.  That qualifies up there near the top of the most heartbreaking things I have even endured.  

None of those things, while they took fortitude were inherently brave.  They were things that simply needed to be done.  While they were hard, and heartbreaking and traumatizing each in their own way, they don’t hold a candle to brave. 

My bravest moment came weeks later.   I stood in our living room.  My eyes traveled to Robert’s chair.   I looked at the curio cabinet that he had given me filled with angel statues.   I rocked my son in my arms and I looked at our picture wall.   The wall held pictures of memories and snippets of time that were so happy.   I could see that the life I had planned was no longer.  With the screech of tires and shattering of glass, the planned future in our house was ripped from me.  There was no going back.  I would never lead the life that we PLANNED to have.   I would never grow old with him.  I would grow old, but he will forever be 33 years old.  I looked at the kitchen and saw the tile that we installed ourselves.   I glimpsed around and saw where he SHOULD have been.   

I decided then and there, that I would pick myself up and move forward.  I would do everything in my power to provide a life for my child and I would do it in spite of tragedy.  In that moment, I made the decision to go back home.   

Days later, I got on a plane with a one way ticket and headed home.  I took what I could carry and surrounded myself with family.   It was quite possibly the one of the hardest things that I did.  I made the choice to leave our house, the place where we built our married life.  The place that we had called home for nearly ten years-I chose to walk away and rebuild on the other side of the country.  I knew if I stayed, that it would be much harder for me to dig myself out of the depths of despair.    Now it hasn't been easy at all, but I do think that it was one of the key points in my journey. 

That decision was pivotal for me.   Being able to be in close proximity to my family afforded me the support that I would need to rebuild my life.   There were plenty of memories of us here as well.  We both went to school here and lived here before we moved to Texas.  In the following months, I would get a job, and list my house for sale.  

Even though I had already made the decision to leave and sell our house, actually doing it was another story.  It took me several months to draw the courage to head down there to pack up.  Mom and Dad stayed behind with Munchkin, but my siblings, they came, and they brought spouses and friends.  And my Godmother, she left her child home and came too.  Eight of us worked for a week straight cleaning and packing.  Whatever couldn't be packed-was sold.  I sold off our life, because I wouldn't have a house anymore, I didn't need stuff.  While that sounds logical, I assure you it was heart wrenching.   I walked around my house and sobbed, often uncontrollably.  I knew in my heart that I would never again have a place that both of us would call home.   I sold our bed.  I sold his clothes, I sold our furniture.  Essentially, I took what fit into two pods.  The criteria was-if I would be heartbroken because something could not be replaced then it got packed.  If I could go buy another one if and when I ever bought a house again, it was sold.  

I fought through nights of no sleep, followed by flashbacks of the accident on the rare occasion that I did fall asleep after my son’s midnight feeding.   It got to the point where I could only fall asleep with the TV on…it was pathetic-but at 6 am when I got up teary and bleary eyed to go to work, I could have breakfast with my father.  If I needed to go to the cemetery and scream and yell and cry on the way home, my mom or dad would pick Munchkin up from day care.   I fought HARD to put the memories of the accident behind me.  I focused on our time together and happy memories and creating a happy life for Munchkin and myself.   I sought solace in the sand and waves of my parent’s beach house for that summer.   I chased Munchkin on the beach and took long walks with him.   As I watched the waves wash over the sand, I could feel them soothe my broken soul.   In the coming years, I would excel at my job, learn to live on our own again and now I have purchased my own house.  

In spite of the tragedy of losing my husband, best friend and soul mate, I have been able to pick up pieces and put our life back together.   If I hadn't made the choice to cut the ties to a house that was no longer ours, I don’t think that I would be where I am today.   

Right Place....Right Time

Today I was on the phone at work. I was trying to find time to fit in an evening teleconference with a west coast colleague. I mentioned....we'll tonight is PTA, tomorrow is TaeKwonDo....the lady jokes..."we live in the same world". I laughed and let my flippant side out.
"we are in no way in the same world"
She replied, "why is that?"
"I'm widowed"
She paused and said she was sorry. She then told me her husband was just diagnosed with end stage pancreatic cancer.

We were both weeping. I apologized to her. Me and my big mouth!

But I told her that it would be ok. She asked me to tell her that her kids would be ok. I assured her that they would. I also said that it isn't easy and it would not be ok for a while and that was ok too, but that yes it will be ok.

Not today, not tomorrow but eventually it will be ok. I know that is very hard to fathom, but just take one thing at a time. I went through months where I had to remind myself to breathe. But a few weeks after the accident a very sweet woman who was widowed and remarried, took me for coffee and told me those same words.

To hear someone has survived and to see them be ok is what fed my hope. It made me find my inner strength to realize that someday it would get better.

Today, I happened to be able to pay that dose of hope forward.

Putting Away Christmas..

Yesterday I put away our Christmas decorations.  Many of them were up for the first time since Christmas 2007. 

Robert and I had a few traditions.  First we bought a new ornament every year, we actually bought two most years, he was fond of the glass balls from Hallmark--I have a much more whimsical taste. 
We also made or purchased a piece to our village. 

Our only Christmas as a family of three was 2007.  Munchkin was 7 months old.  It was perfect.  Many of my decorations have not seen the light of day since that season. 

As I was moving into our new house, my mom and dad set up my tree with munchkin and his cousins.  They didn't know that I had not been putting all of the decorations up.  I noticed it, but let it go.   They stayed up all season.  I put them away yesterday. 

As I was packing things away into their boxes...yes...I am one of THOSE people, you know the ones who keep the original ornament boxes to re-use year after year.  I noticed something.  That I had kept up our traditions without really thinking much about it.  

You see, for the past five years, I have let munchkin pick out the ornaments.  I can see his tastes emerge and evolve.  This year it was Frosty the snowman, last year, Alvin, 2010 it was Mickey Mouse, 2009 it was Cars.  In 2008, I picked our ornament, it was a seashell with a pearl in it, it was pretty.  This year munchkin asked for two ornaments.  

The second one that he picked was a blue ball, it had a picture of Bethlehem and the north star.  I thought when he picked it, that Robert would have really liked it.   As I packed it away, I noticed, that along the bottom there were words.  It is the words to Silent Night.  That was Robert's all time favorite Christmas Carol!!! 

I guess after all this time and all of the tears, I can still find glimpses of him here and now, for the most part it makes me smile. 

The other thing that has become apparent, is that Munchkin loves Christmas!  He loves the story of the birth of Jesus, he loves Santa and he loves St Nicholas.  So much so, that as I was packing up, he pilfered my small musical Christmas Tree without me noticing.  When I put him to bed, I saw it on his bookshelf in his room.   I asked him how it got there. 

He replied "I put it there mommy, I want to have a little Christmas in my room all the time".  Little does he know, that is something his father would have done.  I put a smile on my face and tucked him in!

Janurary Widowed Blog Hop

I have really enjoyed doing this.  To all of you who have found my blog in this hop and keep coming back, thank you!  I hope that by sharing my story, that maybe just maybe someone can relate.   I know that I started this late in the game so to speak--I wrote in journals for the begining of my grief journey and just this last year started to share it with the rest of you.  To this point, it has been a positive experience.   Please visit the links below.  All of these people have taken the time to share their thoughts and feelings-if you feel so inclined, I am sure that they would like to hear some positive feedback.  In the event that you are not widowed, perhaps visitng these sites will give you some insight into the daily thoughts and activities of people just trying to make it. 



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So at the end of this post, you will see a list of people who in spite of surviving unimaginable tragedies, they thrive and have something to say. They have the courage to share their world with the rest of us and I ask that you take a look at what they have to say.

Maybe, just maybe you may learn something new, or find a new idea. You may find some laughter and you may find some tears, but at the end, you will be sharing a glimpse into a world that none of us would like to belong to.

The details are below:


How to Participate:
1. Visit each of the links below – both hosts and participants – and read their post. Leave them a comment with encouragement, commiseration, community, or however else the post touches you.

Hosts:
Samantha of the Crazy Courage blog
Janine of One Breath At A Time
Rachel of A Little Pink in a World of Camo
Christine of Widow Island
Kiki of Life After Steve
Robin of The Fresh Widow
Ferree of Widow’s Christian Place
Brooke of 2 Peas in the Pod
Paul of Death is an Imposter
Red’s Momma’s Money Matters
Becky’s Choosing Grace Today
Participants:
Cindy’s Widow’s Pursuits
Tim’s Diary of a Widower
The Official Site of Abel Keogh

2. In the comment section of the hosts’ sites, leave a link to any related post, for example on the day-to-day issues you face, memories you have of your spouse, events you’ve attended, etc. These are things many of us discuss via our blogs anyway, so it likely won’t be out of your realm of experience.

3. It would really help us get the word out about the Widowed Blog Hop if you would tweet, share, and spread the word about the Hop! Please use hashtags #Widowed and #BlogHop.

Happy New Year! Reflections on 2012

I am sitting here at about 10:30 local time.   Munchkin is long asleep-we celebrated early complete with pizza, video games, movie, grape juice toast and confetti poppers in our yard. 

I have been reflecting a lot on this past year.There has been so much that has happened in the world.  So much tragedy, so much heartache and yet, there were good things as well.   I think that is true of most years, but I always have liked to reflect on the world around me.


  The year started off very rough for us, but in all it was a very good year.  I can see immense growth in the both of us individually and as a family.   I would love to share some of our highlights:

~ Our new house-WHAT a blessing and miracle!!!

~ Munchkin starting kindergarten at the same grade school I went to and having the PERFECT teacher for us!

~Munchkin got to enjoy the Olympics on TV with me and man did we have fun watching and learning!!! 

~While  I am not a fan of the political rhetoric that preceeds elections, I did get to take munchkin to vote with me and explain in simple terms why it is so important for grown ups to vote.  I am hoping that I can instill this sense of duty into him.   I even explained who I was voting for and why-hopefully he will remember the process of being educated on candidates regardless of whom you choose to vote for!

~Many, many family gatherings this year, including some great times with cousins on the beach.  Enjoying sunsets hand in hand with munchkin is such a treat! And on that note, I got to close the cottage with my dad...got an entire day of him to myself-don't think that has happened in close to 20 years and it was wonderful!

~ Band was phenomenal for me this year, I actually missed less than 10 rehearsals in the second half of the year---this is a new record :0

~ My writing--this blog and a few others that I guest post on have been a huge blessing to me.  I do write daily, and I still struggle with what to type here as opposed to keeping private in my journals so hopefully I can find a little better balance this coming year. 

~ My immediate family...my siblings and parents have had a great year as well.  We have had many many opportunities to be together and I am grateful for that!

~Taking munchkin to his first Notre Dame Game!  GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IRISH!

~Munchkin has advanced THREE TaeKwonDo belts and medaled in TWO Tournaments!  I am so grateful for all of his teachers and that he likes to work hard!

~Taking munchkin downtown to enjoy the Christmas decorations and enjoy lunch with his Papa.  It was so much fun to share with him a memory that I treasure from childhood! We used to always go downtown and meet dad for lunch. 

In all, 2012 was a good year.  I can remember back to December 31, 2008 where my simple plea to God was, "Dear God, please, please let 2008 be the worst year of my life-EVER"  In my mind, I did not think that I could endure let alone thrive.  Thus far, it seems as that prayer has been answered!  I am THANKFUL for that each and every day. 

God whispers

After Robert died, I sold our house and moved home. I needed to reset the foundation of my life that had been shattered into oblivion and I knew that I needed my family. It was crazy to expect them to be there for me 1300 miles away. This was an easy decision for me as we had been talking about leaving Texas for home before munchkin was in preschool anyway. We felt strongly that we wanted him in school where we grew up. I knew it was what we would have done anyway. While that made the decision logical it was not easy to do. I felt as if I was walking away from our life.

We lived with my mom and dad in the house I grew up in for a long time. It was what I needed. I had the blessing of my parents and munchkin got to be spoiled by them. I worked through some of my hardest grief while living there. There are pictures of me for that first two years where my face simply looks haunted, My eyes are glassy and I am obviously still in shock.

We then moved into an apartment. It was what we needed. I needed to solidify our foundation but munchkin was still too young for me to be able to handle a house on my own. I honestly didn't know if I would ever be able to manage a house.

While the condo was good for me, it wasn't the best for munchkin, There was no place to run around. He had to be quiet inside. We adapted. We went to parks everyday. I kept his baseball mitt, soccer ball, scooter and tee in the back of my car.

He couldn't have friends over...we had to be quiet...five year old boys by definition are not quiet...they are bundles of laughter and energy...

In July as we pulled in from the park, he looked at me.
"momma, I am going to ask Santa for a house for Christmas"
I replied "buddy, if Santa said a DS was not in his budget, I'm pretty sure a house is out of the question"
"hmm.."
"besides, it would take the elves a long time to build it then they would not have time to make as many toys for everyone!"
"ok, mommy. I will just ask God instead. Nothing is to big for God to do"
"you are right buddy, nothing is too big for God"

Oh boy. I was floored in my tracks. Unbeknown to munchkin, I had applied for and been denied a mortgage. I had decided that it was not in God's plan for us to have a house.

I had no idea what to do. I was proud that munchkin had the understanding that things in this world are not up to us but at the same time, five year olds are not great at patience. I also know that things happen in God's time, not ours. As I lay in bed that night I gave my wish to God and got out of the way. I resolved myself that whatever happened I needed to have faith.

I secretly hoped that munchkin's wish was a phase to be quickly moved through. Such was not the case.

The next week he started telling people that we were moving.

The week after that he announced his new house would have a huge playroom to play with his friends and a big backyard with a "swing house"

Nightly in his bedtime prayers he would ask God to give us a perfect house. I would listen to him and silently pray for my son to not lose faith.

A few weeks later was the first week of school. As we walked with neighborhood friends, he told them God was giving him a house for Christmas. Oh boy! I had no idea how I would make that wish come true. I had nothing to do but put my faith in God as well. Out of that conversation came the PERFECT mortgage broker who got a loan approved for me.

I began searching for a house. I didn't tell munchkin. After six weeks I found one that was perfect for us. The process was maddening. Things kept popping up. I kept saying a prayer and letting it go. I had some very close friends that I engaged in specific prayers for the process and at the end of the day, we moved into our new home.

It is an amazing blessing that I never thought I would have again and I am thankful that munchkin nudged me into believing what I thought was impossible. I am thankful that I was able to stop my doubt and fear and join my child in relying on God to provide for us instead of dismissing his dream as childish or impractical. I am blessed.

Thoughts on Newtown Shooting

I was in the air when the shooting happened.   I saw it on the monitors in the airport when we landed.  Hearing the details and seeing the parents and teachers on the news, cut me to my soul. 

I realize that we cannot protect our children from everything, probably more than most.  However, I instituted a "media blackout" in our house this weekend.   First off, I have been wary of any footage of main stream media since 9/11 and I wanted to be the one to control the explanation to munchkin.  This is not unusual for our house, I actually don't usually watch the news with him, we tend to read the newspaper and talk about the world and what is happening, by eliminating the graphic footage that tends to replay on TV. Secondly, I know that watching TV coverage won't help these families.   There is very little I can do other than pray for them.

I really don't know what to say.   I am at a loss for words.  I cannot imagine the pain of the families, teachers and children.  

I did discuss breifly with munchkin that something happened in a school far away and a lot of people were hurt.  We talked about how important it is to listen to his teacher all the time.  I anticipate that his school will have some "lockdown drills" soon and we will talk more about that then. 

As a parent, one of the scariest things for me was simply sending him to school this year.   Starting the year, I knew he would be out of my control, sight and direct influence for 7 hours a day.  Daily I offer prayer that he is safe, happy and working hard.  I pray that his teachers are caring and compassionate.  It is all I can do.   I know that this is opposite of many parents who can't wait for their kids to go to school, but honestly, I think that this stems from the fact I know firsthand that life can and does change in a random instant. 

Friday was a defining moment in his childhood, and I am sure that he won't realize it until many years from now.  I too had a pivotal moment in the late 80's when a similiar situation happened in Winnetka, Il, a suburb not too far from where I grew up.  Until then, schools were not locked.  Parents, babysitters and grandparents came and went, students didn't even need to check in and out with the office.  That changed.  I am not sure what will change for this generation of children, but I know that there will likely be reactive changes. 

This evening, I have caught up on the current theories and evidence surrounding the shooting. I am still at a loss. All I can ask is that all of you take a moment to hold your family tight and offer a prayer, good thoughts or whatever you so choose for those whose lives who have been irreversibly changed. 

Parent Teacher Conference

Last week, I had the first of what I am sure will be many parent teacher conferences.  I was fine getting ready for it.  I know munchkin is doing well and I have had regular contact with the school and his teacher.  

What I was not prepared for was entering the school to so many mother/father couples strolling the hallway.   I don't know why, but I didn't expect it.   Sometimes it is really the unexpected things that hit the hardest.   You expect to see dad's at kids sports, you expect to see complete families at church, for some reason, I did not expect to see fathers at parent teacher conferences. 

Perhaps it is our PTA push to have the dad's involved (THAT is a whole other post for another time) But stolling the halls looking at the kids  creations, it was unexpected. 

His conference went well, very well actually.  His teacher is perfect for him and perfect for us.  She is just what we both needed in this transition to big kid school, and I hope that she is one of those teachers that he remembers forever. 

I am thankful that he has a teacher that is so caring and willing to work with him on his level.  I am thankful that we had the opportunity to move back to my family and take advantage of such an awesome school district.  I am thankful that munchkin loves school and loves to read as much as he does!


I am thankful, that the unexpected doesn't always send me into blubbering tears as it did just a few years ago.  Honestly, 2 years ago, this would have been a very different entry into my journal, and I am thankful that I can see my own personal growth and strength on this journey that no one wants to take. 

His Piano...

For more than four years now, his piano has been mostly silent.  It is one of those objects that has such a strong sense of him, it brings me to tears to touch it.  So I don't play it-not that I ever did very much, but now I don't at all. 

When munchkin was 2 and 3 he took a piano class at his montessori school.  He loved it but it was a group session and did not necessitate practice on the piano.  Now that he is 5, he has discovered his joy of reading and also the joy of the piano. 

He has dug through my filing cabinet of music and taken it upon himself to "read" the music and "play" the piano.  Fortunately, he remembers a striking amount of the basics (finger numbers and note names) so he is doing fairly well. 

It is odd, that something that when Robert was alive brought us such joy, when he died it pierced my heart with just the sound of the keys.   And now, I see our son, gravitate towards it.  I help him and we work together on it.  He absorbs it like a sponge and it is beautiful to see.

When I say it pierced my heart, I mean that in the most literal sense of the word.  That first Christmas, I tried so hard to play Christmas music and to share that with my family.  I physically could not do it, I would sit on the bench paralyzed with greif and cry.  The tears would run down my cheeks and I would silently close the lid and walk away.   The silence of the piano was deafening to me, but I could not bring myself to play it. 

Now, munchkin has been practicing consistently.  He loves it, he reads his work books and plays the notes.  I really should find him a teach besides me, but I fear that any teacher I find, would not live up to the shadow of Robert.   He was by far and hands down the best music teacher that I have ever seen in my life.  I know that I may be biased, however I also know that there are some former students that read this that will confirm.  He was a special soul and he was built for teaching.  

I pray that I can find someone to help munchkin love music as much as Robert and I do!

Grateful Reflections

Today is the fifth time we have celebrated Thanksgiving without Robert.  Saying that out loud seems odd...it seems odd, that he is not here.  I will tell you, that man embodied holidays.  They were for nothing more than being with family.  Watching movies or football and enjoying each others company.  He had high expectations....GREAT FOOD and time with us.  :)

So today as I reflect on my life and our love, I am relishing in the blessings in my life. 

I am a mother.  This is by far my favorite thing in the entire world.  I am responsible for bringing up an amazing little boy and teaching him all about the world.  There is nothing that is more soothing to my soul than to look at him learn something new, or give me a big sloppy hug and kiss.  To see his eyes sparkly with joy, fills my heart and I am grateful. 

We have a place to live.

I have a job that allows me to provide for us.

We live in the United States of America.

I have a fantastic family...they are awesome---really really awesome.  Siblings, parents, aunts, uncles and cousins every last one of them.   I know I am lucky beyond belief for that, because there are tons of people out there that never experienced a loving family.  That makes me sad to even think that, but I know that there are. 

Fabulous Friends--really, the kind of friends that drop everything and come to your aid when you finally ask for help.  They know that if you are asking for help--that you really really need it! The kind that even though you don't talk often, you know that you are now and always will be close.   My cirlce of friends has morphed the past few years, and I am grateful!

I am grateful to have a best friend whom I have known more years than I care to publish and that we live relatively close again.  Her family is an extension of my own, her parents literally have always been a second set of parents and I am grateful. 

SO today, I hope that you find a minute to be grateful for something. 

Catastrophe

Have you ever lived through a hurricane? If not, be thankful! I have lived through three including Katrina and Rita in Houston.

A hurricane is unnerving. First of all you know it is coming for days so you prepare. Schools shut down businesses shut down and communities check on each other. You tie up or bring in anything and everything that is loose outside lest it become a projectile and injure someone or break something.

Then you wait and wait. The winds and rain start ahead of the storm and when the hurricane finally comes it is hours upon hours of tornadic winds. You stay inside and listen...the power generally shuts off to lessen the likelihood of fires when things fall on transformers. So you sit there in the middle of your house in the dark holding right to your loved ones and you pray. You pray for lives to be spared knowing property can be replaced. It is terrifying and humbling.

When it is over you go outside and you see the damage. The devastation. The utter destruction and you marvel at the power of God.

Several weeks ago, Sandy hit the east coast. I spoke to a friend of mine. He talked about huddling under a staircase in his house with his wife and son for 18 hours while mother nature destroyed everything in her path.

As we were talking he started telling me of the changes to the channel. The rocky bluffs were gone. Just gone. The topography of the inlets is completely changed. There is a river way that had dried up century ago that the hurricane reopened.

As I heard him speak I got to thinking. Nature cleanses the earth with catastrophe. Hurricanes reshape the land and shores....don't believe me? Google Louisiana shoreline post Katrina. A very large part of the state was reclaimed by the Gulf of Mexico.

Fires cleanse a forest. They remove old trees so that the forest can grow and evolve. The dead brush is removed and the ashes nourish the land for future growth. The animals take cover and the slowly return. The rain and snow soothe the charred earth and life begins anew.

As I was thinking about this, I was thinking about me. Losing Robert was a catastrophic event for me. He was gone in an instant. The aftermath has been years and years of pain tempered with growth. My life will never ever be the same as it was on the morning of March 30, 2008. But I am starting to see new growth in me. I am starting to see how things have changed and how I would not have many things in my life that I do have today if that catastrophic event had not happened.

I am starting to see the positive, the life and the joy. While I still miss him deeply and that will never change, instead of thinking that my life ended on that Sunday morning, I see that that morning was a catastrophe. But that catastrophe is a part of who I am now. It is only a part....it does not consume my world anymore.

Blog Hop...

Nope not a Sock Hop--a Blog Hop....

Being new to this whole published blog world, I am excited to participate.  It still amazes me that there are people that want to read what I have to write...but I digress...

So, I will be participating in the blog hop hosted by Samantha of Crazy Courage

So at the end of this post, you will see a list of people who in spite of surviving unimaginable tragedies, they thrive and have something to say.  They have the courage to share their world with the rest of us and I ask that you take a look at what they have to say. 

Maybe, just maybe you may learn something new, or find a new idea.  You may find some laughter and you may find some tears, but at the end, you will be sharing a glimpse into a world that none of us would like to belong to. 

The details are below:


How to Participate:
1. Visit each of the links below – both hosts and participants – and read their post. Leave them a comment with encouragement, commiseration, community, or however else the post touches you.

Hosts:
Samantha of the Crazy Courage blog
Janine of One Breath At A Time
Rachel of A Little Pink in a World of Camo
Christine of Widow Island
Kiki of Life After Steve
Robin of The Fresh Widow
Ferree of Widow’s Christian Place
Brooke of 2 Peas in the Pod
Paul of Death is an Imposter
Red’s Momma’s Money Matters
Participants:
Becky’s Choosing Grace Today
Cindy’s Widow’s Pursuits
Tim’s Diary of a Widower
The Official Site of Abel Keogh

2. In the comment section of the hosts’ sites, leave a link to any related post, for example on the day-to-day issues you face, memories you have of your spouse, events you’ve attended, etc. These are things many of us discuss via our blogs anyway, so it likely won’t be out of your realm of experience.

3. It would really help us get the word out about the Widowed Blog Hop if you would tweet, share, and spread the word about the Hop! Please use hashtags #Widowed and #BlogHop.

Did your Daddy vote?

Partisanship aside...I have always understood the importance of voting. So the fact that it was a school day/work day and TaeKwonDo day did not deter me from taking munchkin to vote with me after class. As we drove I explained that all grownups in the USA have the privilege to vote.

They had done a mock vote in class today so he was excited. He was well behaved in line and respectful to the judges and he even managed a piece of chocolate from one that we knew.

As I turned in my ballot, my heart was aching that the first time munchkin will remember going to vote was just the two of us. I put my ballot in the machine and the well meaning sweet lady asked munchkin if he got to go vote with Daddy too.

Too much....the tears flowed, the silent tears I had been holding back just flowed. Munchkin didn't miss a beat..."Daddy lives in heaven" is what he said to the lady. She looked like someone slapped her. Munchkin asked for a sticker and I made a quick escape into the cold drizzle holding tight to munchkin's hand.

We went home had dinner and snuggled to watch the states report their numbers. We talked about what the president does, where he lives and what the house and senate mean. In all I thought it was a great lesson in the privilege of being American citizens even if it did unearth my wounds. Mostly I am glad that munchkin had fun and liked learning about voting.
I only wish that my scars were not so visible to the rest of the world.

Happy Halloween?

Munchkin only had one Halloween with two parents.  I am so blessed that all of the rest of them have been spent with my extended family.  We have trick or treated in our childhood neighborhood with my brother and sister in law and their two munchkins.  We have fun.  We laugh at the kids, we talk about how they are growing.  We have dinner, spend time with Nana and Papa and Aunts, Uncles and Cousins. I historically have gone to bed in tears. 

This year for the first time, I didn't have a kick in the gut at some point.  In past years, there was something that brought me to tears.  Something that reminded me harshly that we are DIFFERENT, that I AM ALONE. This year, not at all.

I had a great time.  Munchkin had a great time.  We saw many friends. Ran in to tons of parents of kids munchkin goes to school with.  He saw many friends that he has made in school this year.  He was happy and I was happy and content to see him that way.  The grown ups chatted and laughed and remembered Halloweens past.    Had dinner with my sister and her husband as well.  She made cupcakes and provided dessert.  The kids trick or treated her block as well.  Everyone knows munchkin and he loves his friends on that block. 

We had a holiday where we were completely happy.  At the end of the evening, snuggling on the couch munchkin told me it was the best Halloween ever!  Now, I realize that from the eyes of a five year old, every Halloween will be the best ever, but hearing that from him made my day.

And for that minute, I felt that maybe just maybe, I am making progress.  That I am enough, that my family is enough.   And for the first time in recent memory on a holiday, I went to bed happy.

I am blessed, and I am grateful. 

Circle of Life

Almost two and a half years ago, Munchkin started begging for a fish.  I held out, stalled, stammered and after much research I finally gave in.

After much debate and discussion, I settled on a Beta, he picked out a pretty blue one and named him FISHY. 

For the past 18 months, munchkin has greeted him good morning, kissed him good night, sang to him, fed him, read to him, redecorated his fish tank, helped change filter.   FISHY would recognize his voice and swim around frantically excited to hear him.   Munchkin thought that was the coolest thing, especially since he wouldn't respond to me.   Munchkin's explanation, "mommy, he hasn't learned that you have to listen to your mommy yet, we will work on it and I am sure FISHY will love you like he loves me!" 

He announced that since he can't have a baby sister that FISHY would be his brother.  Everyone who came to our apartment or as Munchkin calls it "repartment house" was introduced to his brother. 

About 2 weeks ago, FISHY started looking a little sick, kinda just laying on his plants, not really eating....I knew in my heart that FISHY had just about lived out his life.   I seriously debated a bait and switch.  However, I figured out that Munchkin, as observant as he is, would have discovered the deception so I decided to let it run its course and prepped myself for the "circle of life" conversation. 

The other day it happened, we went out for the day, had a fantastic day downtown.  Picked up a new story book that he proceeded to read to me on the train and we simply had fun.  When we got home, Munchkin wanted to read to FISHY.   When he went to his tank to read to him, he was lifeless on the bottom of the tank.  Munchkin started singing to him, FISHY didn't move.  Munchkin started screaming.   No not screaming, shrieking.   "MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!! MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!! FISHY is DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"   Keep in mind, that I didn't voice any of my suspicions to him. 

The tears started rolling.  The wailing began in earnest.  I scooped up my little man and just held him.   I investigated FISHY and confirmed the sad news. 

"MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I DON'T WANT FISHY IN HEAVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  DADDY IS ALREADY THERE AND I WANT FISHY HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  GOD TAKES EVERYTHING I LOVE TO HEAVEN AND KEEPS THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

OH my!  It hurt me so deeply to see him so hurt.  It hurts me to know that at 5 years old, that he understands loss in such a deep and personal way that many adults have yet to come to terms with.   I was speechless.  How do you give your child answers that you don't have yourself?

In the end, I decided that hugs, kisses and listening were my best option.   I told him that we would send FISHY's body to the sea by flushing him.   BIG MISTAKE! "MOMMY! A SHARK WILL EAT HIM!!!!!!!!" oh my, oh my, thanks DISNEY!

He asked me to say good bye to FISHY, so I took the tank and set it on the floor in front of him.   He knelt on his knees over the tank with tears streaming down his cheeks and big messy sobs making his entire body quiver.  I could do nothing but sit next to him and silently pray. For what seemed like forever he sat and spoke to FISHY's body--
"I love you FISHY"
"you are an awesome friend FISHY"
"I miss you FISHY, GOD please send FISHY back!"
" FISHY can you please say hi to my Daddy in heaven and be his friend?"
"FISHY, will you play with my puppies in heaven and be nice to my Daddy"
"FISHY I hope you turn into a real human brother in heaven and give my Daddy a kiss, maybe play catch with him too"

When he was done sobbing and saying goodbye, we said a prayer.  He asked some more questions about Daddy and told me that he knew Daddy would take care of FISHY.  

While I was very proud of myself for not getting hysterical, I did have the tears on my cheeks and I was drained. 

We ended up cuddling up and watching Scooby Doo together.  

Sometimes, just sometimes, it is best to realize that there is nothing that we can do to change things and all we can do is cling to each other.  

In the past few days, we have only had a few questions and comments.   He made sure to tell Papa and Uncle Joe that FISHY is in heaven with Daddy.  It is still striking to me how he knew without prompting that FISHY was in heaven.  I am not sure if I should be glad that he understands or sad that he has had the opportunity to learn about loss so early.  

Houston we have a problem....

Still...nearly FIVE years later I can't fly through Houston without getting physically sick.
When I walk through the airport, the memories just play and play.  It doesn't matter that I am rushing through the terminal in a business suit on my way to a meeting.  I see a girl, broken, crying, trying to play with her son. I see people around her looking helpless. I taste the despair...the hopelessness. I taste the bile in my throat. It makes me sick.  I can feel the desperation in the air.

Even as I walk, I will forever be thankful for my family. They traversed the airport with me on many occasions.  While they still do things today to be immensely helpful, they did a lot that in Houston that also plays in my mind.  Mom used to have damp washcloths in a Baggie in her purse to put on my neck when I would inevitably feel faint. I had never fainted before the accident...afterward, it was a pretty regular occurrence.  She would tell me it would be ok, let me cry and get me to eat or drink something. Other times I was with dad who would take munchkin and walk with him and entertain him. He would sit me down with some water and a hug and he would try his best to coax a smile and his eyes would mist over as I could not control my sobs. One time when we were really delayed he leaned over while I was rocking a sleeping munchkin and he wiped my tears jut as he did when I was a little girl.

My aunt was there often as well. She gave up time with her kids to come to me. She saw a shirt and got it for me. "FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION". It is a NASA shirt and I wore it daily for a really long time. She has a quiet determination about her and I was able to lean on her. She would look at me and say "what are you going to do next?". Helping me to see that there were still things that needed to be done and that even though I felt completely lost, I still had deep recesses in my brain that knew the practicality of what needed to be done. She helped me bring that back to the top.

My sister is the travel guru...she could speed us through with practical knowledge of what to do and where to go. She would hug me and make sure that I felt loved. She is awesome. She organized who was coming to stay with me and when.  She dropped everything to help me.  She and her husband walked around the house and just took care of stuff that needed to be done...paid bills, answered phones, cleaned, fed munchkin when I actually did manage to fall asleep...whatever needed to be done, she did, without being asked and without any complaint.   She and my brothers stood at Robert's casket and made a pact to help me and care for me and they do. She has given numerous vacation days to come to my aide provided travel miles and is ALWAYS there. She is a rock. Have I mentioned that she is awesome!

My brother that is the older one...man every time he went to Houston to help me would have some sort of illness requiring an emergency room visit for his kiddos. Anaphylaxis for a 2 year old, another time was some other sort of something, however his wife was home with the 2 year old who needed to go to the ER and a newborn...in jumped brother in law (see sister paragraph above! to come to her rescue!) ...heck his wife was 8 months pregnant when they drove down after the accident....20 hours in a car with a two year old and being 8 months pregnant...just to come to my aide...SAINT!   God Bless him...he still came and his wife still let him. There is a kindness and softness of their souls that is just amazing and I am glad that munchkin has him to look up to.


This is what goes through my mind when I walk through the airport there. Does not matter how tight my connection is...all the flights home go through the same few gates and it hits me like a ton of bricks and a punch in the gut. I know how broken I was, and I know rhat I have come a very long way. I have worked hard to rebuild my life. To be happy again. I think that the despair I felt there was so utterly complete and consuming that my emotion has forever scarred the airport for me.

I cannot imagine how my family felt to see me like that. My child scapes his knee and is better in five minutes and it catches my heart. I can't imagine seeing him so fully crushed and desolate. The fact that they were all there for me and still are just makes me love them even more.

 

Inspiration?

Today I had a phenomenal conversation with one of my mentors. This person has known Robert and I both since high school.

We were discussing the past four years and all that I have endured. He told me that I was a strong woman and an inspiration. I was floored. I don't see that in myself at all! He went on to say that he has seen me make parenting choices and life choices that most people wouldn't make...and that most people would understand if I didn't make. Again I don't see that.

But it really made me think. I know I am not strong-- really not strong. But I do know that I draw my strength from God. I know when I have nothing left, that he will give me what I need. That is what I know.

I also know that as a parent it is my job to show and teach and nurture...in spite of my exhaustion or tears or sheer emptiness. I also know that giggles and smiles soothe my heart more than anything that I can think of. So I have made some tough choices...taking a good paying job that requires full time work so that I can provide for us...living by my family even though I have a LONG commute in rush hour spending 3 1/2 to 4 hours a day in the car everyday....this way he gets relationships with my siblings and parents far easier than if we lived an hour away. Tough choices. I choose to find the positive blessings every day...easier now than it was four years ago but still hard some days.

I make decisions for us based on what is best for us and what I want for my child. The opportunities that I want him to have, the experiences I want him to have. I have made and will continue to make those choices. Everyday I will be thankful for what we have and I will pray for the strength to do it again.

Maybe that makes me an inspiration and maybe it doesn't. I sure don't see it. But maybe this was just God's way of trying to show me what I am too close to see.