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.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Evidence of life?
In one of the previous posts I talked about the method of packing up my house four years ago....my criteria was-"If I could not repurchase this when needed and no longer hold this item in my hand, I would be heartbroken...then it gets packed"...everything else was packed sold, or donated.
The methodology made complete sense at the time. However let's take a look at some of the crazy things I sold:
1. dishes and silverware-I was living with my parents and didn't see a practical need of storing them
2. all of my bakeware (ten years worth of items I purchased to make cakes and candies...)
3. vacuum cleaner
4. household stuff--rakes, shovels, ladders etc
5. furniture
6. patio set
7. 90% of my clothing (we packed up six months after the funeral, and I had lost 50 pounds and moved to a different climate...)
Here is a partial list of the odd stuff that I kept:
1. his laptop computer that was in the accident--literally in a million pieces
2. every CD we ever owned
3. every piece of music we ever owned
4. my wedding dress and flowers (yes FLOWERS from 1999!)
5. a box of pens from drug reps (I have NO IDEA WHY!)
6. fairly certain EVERY piece of his clothing
Now in the grand scheme of things, the stuff we sold, yes I have repurchased over the years, however the items I kept, for the most part stay in blue totes and collect dust until I pull them out to clean them. Over the years that has become less and less.....but I guess for me it is evidence that he was here...that we were one. Evidence that his life was not for naught. Maybe, my heart knows more than my head thinks it does. Maybe just maybe I will find a use for the tangible things that I have left.
The methodology made complete sense at the time. However let's take a look at some of the crazy things I sold:
1. dishes and silverware-I was living with my parents and didn't see a practical need of storing them
2. all of my bakeware (ten years worth of items I purchased to make cakes and candies...)
3. vacuum cleaner
4. household stuff--rakes, shovels, ladders etc
5. furniture
6. patio set
7. 90% of my clothing (we packed up six months after the funeral, and I had lost 50 pounds and moved to a different climate...)
Here is a partial list of the odd stuff that I kept:
1. his laptop computer that was in the accident--literally in a million pieces
2. every CD we ever owned
3. every piece of music we ever owned
4. my wedding dress and flowers (yes FLOWERS from 1999!)
5. a box of pens from drug reps (I have NO IDEA WHY!)
6. fairly certain EVERY piece of his clothing
Now in the grand scheme of things, the stuff we sold, yes I have repurchased over the years, however the items I kept, for the most part stay in blue totes and collect dust until I pull them out to clean them. Over the years that has become less and less.....but I guess for me it is evidence that he was here...that we were one. Evidence that his life was not for naught. Maybe, my heart knows more than my head thinks it does. Maybe just maybe I will find a use for the tangible things that I have left.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Still Smiling
I am currently on a business trip. My morning started like this.
3:30 am wake up call
Hair dryer did not work in my hotel room
Iron did not work in my hotel room
Called the front desk...his reply was that they had no other hair dryers or irons
Went to check my work email and my blackberry server was down
Spoke to munchkin who wanted hot lunch, even though I didn't send him money-grateful my sister and her husband were kind enough to indulge him.
I donned a "wrinkle free" shirt and pulled my hair into a pony tail and headed down stairs to meet my boss to head to the airport for our 5:30 am flight. While walking to the security line someone ran over my foot (the one I broke last year that has been achy and tender since the weather got cold) with a REALLY heavy suitcase.
We get to the security check point and my boss commented that I must have had a good morning because I was still smiling. I laughed and shared the antics of this particular morning. He looked at me in disbelief. He said "but you are still smiling".
And I am still smiling because in spite of everything...this morning doesn't even rank in the top ten of bad mornings that I have had in my life. I realize that all of this is trivial. It doesn't matter.
What matters is that I get home safely to my precious munchkin. What matters is that I am lucky enough to have a job that lets me support us. What matters is that I remain present in the moment and realize what really matters. So I have a semi wrinkled shirt on...no big deal. I have two flights before my meeting anyway. So my hair is curly in a pony tail...not a big deal.
I guess sometimes it helps me to be reminded that I do have a healthy perspective and outlook on life. To be reminded that I do put emphasis on the things that matter and that's I truly do let everything else go and keep on smiling.
It helps to be reminded that even in all of the true tragedy that it have endured, I have not lost my ability to smile or my ability to laugh about circumstances.
3:30 am wake up call
Hair dryer did not work in my hotel room
Iron did not work in my hotel room
Called the front desk...his reply was that they had no other hair dryers or irons
Went to check my work email and my blackberry server was down
Spoke to munchkin who wanted hot lunch, even though I didn't send him money-grateful my sister and her husband were kind enough to indulge him.
I donned a "wrinkle free" shirt and pulled my hair into a pony tail and headed down stairs to meet my boss to head to the airport for our 5:30 am flight. While walking to the security line someone ran over my foot (the one I broke last year that has been achy and tender since the weather got cold) with a REALLY heavy suitcase.
We get to the security check point and my boss commented that I must have had a good morning because I was still smiling. I laughed and shared the antics of this particular morning. He looked at me in disbelief. He said "but you are still smiling".
And I am still smiling because in spite of everything...this morning doesn't even rank in the top ten of bad mornings that I have had in my life. I realize that all of this is trivial. It doesn't matter.
What matters is that I get home safely to my precious munchkin. What matters is that I am lucky enough to have a job that lets me support us. What matters is that I remain present in the moment and realize what really matters. So I have a semi wrinkled shirt on...no big deal. I have two flights before my meeting anyway. So my hair is curly in a pony tail...not a big deal.
I guess sometimes it helps me to be reminded that I do have a healthy perspective and outlook on life. To be reminded that I do put emphasis on the things that matter and that's I truly do let everything else go and keep on smiling.
It helps to be reminded that even in all of the true tragedy that it have endured, I have not lost my ability to smile or my ability to laugh about circumstances.
Cheering Section
I think one of the things that is hardest for me in being widowed is the realization that I am truly alone. There is no one on this planet who has me as their number one priority. I am very blessed that I have many people around me that have me in their top five and top ten. But at the end of the day, I am on my own in so many things.
There is no one to ask me how my day was and allow me to have an adult conversation about it. No is there to tell me to go easy on myself. To share my parenting worries. To reassure me that I am enough.
Now, I have been creative in my solutions. I have a five year old munchkin that is great at conversation. At dinner we both talk about our days and we talk to each other just as I envision that we would if Robert were still here.
I have friends and family with kids of similar age to discuss parenting with. I have an amazing family. They are there when I need them and listen.
There is one place in particular that there is not really a good solution. I play in a symphonic band. My brother watches munchkin every week so that I can go to rehearsal. It is my two hours of grown up time that is just for me.
My family does not share my musical passion. Especially when it comes to classical music. It simply isn't their cup of tea. That is fine. What that means is that I usually perform with no one in the audience there for me. It is heartbreaking because if Robert were here, he would be there with munchkin in the audience. Now if I ask, my family will come. My dilemma is whether at my age should I be asking people to give up several hours doing something that they would not do otherwise to make me feel better. Keep in mind I have been playing for 25 years so my family has endured decades of classical concerts and performances. I have concluded over the years that it isn't fair of me to ask. Munchkin is too young to sit by himself for a concert, so he generally stays with Nana and Papa when I perform. I do bring him to my dress rehearsal and he loves it. He sits there and closes his eyes and pretends to conduct. It melts my heart to see him enjoying music so much!
Well, this particular concert, my brother planned months ago to bring munchkin. He picked him up, they rode the train went to dinner and got ice cream and came to see me play. It meant so much to be able to have him there. He cheered me on and had a great time. I could see him from my chair snuggling up on his uncle listening to the music.
My best surprise was that they brought me flowers. I cried tears for joy, it had been over five years since anyone gave me flowers after a performance.
I am not sure why it touched me so. It really did. For just a little this new normal that we live everyday didn't seem horrible and empty. Maybe it was the sheer joy and excitement on munchkin's face. He was so happy to be there and he was so happy to give me the flowers. Maybe it was the peace in my heart that there are people that do put us really really high on their lists of priorities. Maybe it was just the simple fact that this time I got to share my gift of music with people I know. People who chose to be there to listen to ME.
There is no one to ask me how my day was and allow me to have an adult conversation about it. No is there to tell me to go easy on myself. To share my parenting worries. To reassure me that I am enough.
Now, I have been creative in my solutions. I have a five year old munchkin that is great at conversation. At dinner we both talk about our days and we talk to each other just as I envision that we would if Robert were still here.
I have friends and family with kids of similar age to discuss parenting with. I have an amazing family. They are there when I need them and listen.
There is one place in particular that there is not really a good solution. I play in a symphonic band. My brother watches munchkin every week so that I can go to rehearsal. It is my two hours of grown up time that is just for me.
My family does not share my musical passion. Especially when it comes to classical music. It simply isn't their cup of tea. That is fine. What that means is that I usually perform with no one in the audience there for me. It is heartbreaking because if Robert were here, he would be there with munchkin in the audience. Now if I ask, my family will come. My dilemma is whether at my age should I be asking people to give up several hours doing something that they would not do otherwise to make me feel better. Keep in mind I have been playing for 25 years so my family has endured decades of classical concerts and performances. I have concluded over the years that it isn't fair of me to ask. Munchkin is too young to sit by himself for a concert, so he generally stays with Nana and Papa when I perform. I do bring him to my dress rehearsal and he loves it. He sits there and closes his eyes and pretends to conduct. It melts my heart to see him enjoying music so much!
Well, this particular concert, my brother planned months ago to bring munchkin. He picked him up, they rode the train went to dinner and got ice cream and came to see me play. It meant so much to be able to have him there. He cheered me on and had a great time. I could see him from my chair snuggling up on his uncle listening to the music.
My best surprise was that they brought me flowers. I cried tears for joy, it had been over five years since anyone gave me flowers after a performance.
I am not sure why it touched me so. It really did. For just a little this new normal that we live everyday didn't seem horrible and empty. Maybe it was the sheer joy and excitement on munchkin's face. He was so happy to be there and he was so happy to give me the flowers. Maybe it was the peace in my heart that there are people that do put us really really high on their lists of priorities. Maybe it was just the simple fact that this time I got to share my gift of music with people I know. People who chose to be there to listen to ME.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Math
When Robert was alive, we had a love/hate relationship with math. I loved it, he hated it. I love to manipulate numbers in my head...calculate things and what not, I am the definition of a math nerd and I am proud of it.
I credit my love of numbers and reading to my parents....they made it fun. My dad is an accountant and always made math fun for us. Yesterday munchkin came home with a math paper on which the teacher wrote "future accountant" with a huge star. No one was there to notice the irony with me. He does so many things that are innately Robert's traits, that he would enjoy math as much as I, well I can imagine the conversation between Robert and I!
I'm not quite sure which is worse, not having Robert here to share the story with, or the fact that he has been gone so long that I can have the entire conversation myself? Neither scenario is a natural evolution of marriage and parenting.
My choice is to put the paper on the fridge and a smile on my face and make sure munchkin knows how proud I am.
I credit my love of numbers and reading to my parents....they made it fun. My dad is an accountant and always made math fun for us. Yesterday munchkin came home with a math paper on which the teacher wrote "future accountant" with a huge star. No one was there to notice the irony with me. He does so many things that are innately Robert's traits, that he would enjoy math as much as I, well I can imagine the conversation between Robert and I!
I'm not quite sure which is worse, not having Robert here to share the story with, or the fact that he has been gone so long that I can have the entire conversation myself? Neither scenario is a natural evolution of marriage and parenting.
My choice is to put the paper on the fridge and a smile on my face and make sure munchkin knows how proud I am.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Yard Sales
After the accident, when I finally went down to Texas to put the house on the market-we had the sale of all yard sales.
I had decided that it was best for us to be by family, but had only been working for about 6 weeks. Munchkin was 1, so living with mom and dad was by far our best option. That being said, it was not practical nor necessary to move my entire house. So after much thought, prayer and tears, I decided to sell everything that I could. I was still in shock at how much the funeral had cost and I was determined to repay my father for the thousands of dollars that he had paid for me. Literally, he paid everything without a pause.
So as we walked through the house, the criteria I used was that if it could be replaced, I would replace it when I decided to move from mom and dad's. At that time, I was pretty sure I would be there forever. I could not see how I could manage to live on my own and take care of us. If it had sentimental value, I packed it.
I remember standing in the middle of my house sobbing. I could not focus on anything. I could not bear to go outside and see people picking apart my life---deliberating over pennies. We sold my dishes, they were a wedding gift. We sold my craft table...it was a wooden table that had folding leaves and I made beautiful creations on it. We sold my son's baby clothes--he was not going to get smaller, and I am not going to have another child. We sold 90% of my clothing, I was living in a different climate. I no longer wear scrubs to work and flip flops are not year round attire. We sold out patio set, where we used to cook out and relax. We sold the contents of my kitchen, all of my bakeware and stuff--I no longer had my own kitchen to create in. We sold the workbench that we build together. We sold his car parts-the car was totalled, they were useless reminders to me anyway. It was heartbreaking. We sold anything that pretty much was not nailed down and then some.
What did I pack? Surprisingly a lot of memories. Most of his t-shirts and sweatshirts-which consisted of every Bears t-shirt known to man! I can picture him in everyone of them. about 25 different Bears jerseys. 12, count them 12 huge blue plastic totes of music. Enough for a library. And while I am a musician, I will never teach middle school band, so about 4 of those got given to a new teacher for her use in her career-but not until this past year. If I never see a blue tote again, it will be too soon! Everytime I tried to unpack one, I was floored and paralyzed by the memories.
So now, as I try and rebuild things, even though yard sales are a great way to get things cheaply, I usually can't bear to even go see them. I know that my yard sale was a very rare reason, however, to see people's belongings spread over tables and grass, welll, it just reminds me of my own heartache.
I had decided that it was best for us to be by family, but had only been working for about 6 weeks. Munchkin was 1, so living with mom and dad was by far our best option. That being said, it was not practical nor necessary to move my entire house. So after much thought, prayer and tears, I decided to sell everything that I could. I was still in shock at how much the funeral had cost and I was determined to repay my father for the thousands of dollars that he had paid for me. Literally, he paid everything without a pause.
So as we walked through the house, the criteria I used was that if it could be replaced, I would replace it when I decided to move from mom and dad's. At that time, I was pretty sure I would be there forever. I could not see how I could manage to live on my own and take care of us. If it had sentimental value, I packed it.
I remember standing in the middle of my house sobbing. I could not focus on anything. I could not bear to go outside and see people picking apart my life---deliberating over pennies. We sold my dishes, they were a wedding gift. We sold my craft table...it was a wooden table that had folding leaves and I made beautiful creations on it. We sold my son's baby clothes--he was not going to get smaller, and I am not going to have another child. We sold 90% of my clothing, I was living in a different climate. I no longer wear scrubs to work and flip flops are not year round attire. We sold out patio set, where we used to cook out and relax. We sold the contents of my kitchen, all of my bakeware and stuff--I no longer had my own kitchen to create in. We sold the workbench that we build together. We sold his car parts-the car was totalled, they were useless reminders to me anyway. It was heartbreaking. We sold anything that pretty much was not nailed down and then some.
What did I pack? Surprisingly a lot of memories. Most of his t-shirts and sweatshirts-which consisted of every Bears t-shirt known to man! I can picture him in everyone of them. about 25 different Bears jerseys. 12, count them 12 huge blue plastic totes of music. Enough for a library. And while I am a musician, I will never teach middle school band, so about 4 of those got given to a new teacher for her use in her career-but not until this past year. If I never see a blue tote again, it will be too soon! Everytime I tried to unpack one, I was floored and paralyzed by the memories.
So now, as I try and rebuild things, even though yard sales are a great way to get things cheaply, I usually can't bear to even go see them. I know that my yard sale was a very rare reason, however, to see people's belongings spread over tables and grass, welll, it just reminds me of my own heartache.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
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.
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.
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