These Days

The other night, we were playing outside.  Munchkin was running around the yard.  I was admiring the grass that I had cut a few days ago.  The air was cool and the sun was setting.   Two of our friends were walking by and stopped to chat.

I am feeling so blessed that we live in such an awesome neighborhood, where everyone knows each other and people play together in the evenings.  Where friends stop to talk and literally are just a phone call away.  Where kids play outside and ride bikes and chase lighting bugs and whine to stay up just a little later.

I am grateful that for the moment we are living an idyllic life.  One that I had hoped and wished and planned for.  Evenings in the yard, coffee on the patio in the morning.  Looking at the bunnies hop through the yard and hoping that the fox isn't hot on their tails.  I am in awe of all of the wonderful things that have happened in our life.  I never dreamed that we would ever have a house again.  Yet, here we are!

Six years ago I was hoping to share these days with Robert and our child someday. Five years ago, I couldn't see past the brokenness to imagine these days would ever happen or feel good without Robert here.   Today, even though Robert isn't here, I have a sense of contentment with the life that we have.  It doesn't make it ok that Robert is dead, but I can tell you on most days, I have found the fortitude to be grateful for what is in front of me today.  I am grateful because I know how quickly and permanently things change.  I give thanks constantly for our blessings and I pray every day to continue to be blessed. While I certainly think I have had my share of tragedy, this bliss is not guaranteed to continue and I know that.  I have worked very hard to stay in the present moment and to practice gratitude and it seems to be working.  It seems to be getting better for us. 

We are very, very blessed these days.  

Counting my blessings

Last night, a company that I have been doing business with decided to close.  I have full belief that they did everything that they could to prevent it and are even looking to place those that worked with them with other companies. 

There are some really great women that work with Gigi Hill and countless that relied on them for the sole support of their family.  Last year when I went to the convention with my best friend, I had the privilege of meeting some pretty amazing people.   Even though I was not selling the purses and just went for a vacation, I had an amazing time and was welcomed with open arms.  

My heart breaks for all of these women.  There are people left with a ton of inventory. Investment into inventory for a company that as of last night no longer exists.   There are families left with no income. 

Let that sink in.  NO INCOME. 

Wow.

Here is the thing, on all of the facebook groups, these women are being positive and inspiring and offering prayers for the two owners of the company who were in tears as they made their announcement last night. 

I have yet to see a "poor me" post or even any anger.   I realize this is less than 24 hours into the process and Gigi Hill asked for 24 hours for a plan to present to everyone.  But still.  No one has been anything but super supportive to each other. 

Nothing negative at all.  Nada, zip, zilch.

If that is not the epitome of grace, I am not quite sure what is.  

I know I am lucky.  I have a great job that I really love and even though it is a new job, it provides for my family.   I did sell Gigi Hill on the side, but literally only because I really loved their purses.  I do have some inventory here at my house, but honestly not all that much.  I am blessed.   I am lucky.  But far more than that I am grateful for all of the women that I have met in the past year that are truly are graceful, caring and amazing.  I am inspired by the Grace and Faith that I am witnessing as we speak. 

I too offer my prayers to everyone that other doors open and that everyone lands on their feet in a place that will be perfect for what they need for their families.   Please join me in that prayer! 

Fishing and Life

For at least several months my Munchkin has wanted to learn to fish.  A total little boy thing right?  A rite of childhood passage.  I can tell you that I am very well equipped for this one.  My parents made sure that the girls knew how to do guy stuff and the boys knew how to do girl stuff.  I am lucky in that regard and I know it. 

My dad used to take us all fishing in Lake Michigan.  Usually from shore, but sometimes from the pier.   I can still remember it.   So, even though in my mind, this was clearly a time when Robert would have taught him something and I would have gotten to hang back, sleep in and enjoy some coffee--I was able to say ok without having to ask someone else to do it. 

We headed off to the beach this past weekend and when I hit town, mom requested that I stop and pick up a few things.  Honestly, it is a small price to pay-too little, one could argue for the privilege of sharing the beach with Munchkin and spending time with my parents.

When I pulled into Meijer and Nate asked if we could fish, I said yes.  I selected a pole for him and some extra bobbers.   When dad taught us how to fish, we learned to cast like an expert before we even earned a hook.  As a parent, I think that is a FANTASTIC idea so I decided we would do the same thing.   I checked with the desk and asked the rules for fishing licenses.  I was told if I wasn't fishing it would probably be ok to not get one, however, knowing my luck, a dumb 40 pound Coho would bite his spoon lure just as the Game Warden drove by, so I decided to buy one anyway :)

Munchkin could not contain his excitement!  When we pulled into the beach house, he promptly ran upstairs to show Nana and Papa his new fishing pole.   I explained that we fish early in the morning and he was ok with that.  I had him help me string his pole and attach his sinker and bobber.   There was not a happier boy on the face of the earth! 

The next morning, he rose early and was ready to go.   We walked down to the beach.  I sent a few casts off to remember how to do and explained it to him.   Within a few short tries he had the casting part down pat.  Now, the whole, watch where you swing your pole, now that leaves much to be desired before I will let him have a hook!  Cause, really neither of us need to be hooked!

I stood there on the shore and just watched him.  I basked in his joy and I kept my mouth shut.   While my heart was full of memories of his father, I did not share them with him.  They are not his memories, they are mine. 

While I do enjoy sharing and answering questions, that was not for today.   Today was all about watching my child enjoy learning something new and learning that practice improves what you are working on and watching him be elated that he can cast the line further than I.  It was watching his smile and hearing his laughter and teaching him how to hold the pole, and what to do with the line.  It was about being thankful that these are things that I know. 

If he asks me, I will answer him, but I will wait for him to ask.   If he asks me if Daddy liked to fish,  I will tell him,  Robert was an AVID fisherman.  He loved to fish any chance that he got.  He would go at the drop of a hat and would plan long fishing vacations with his brothers. Before he died, he invited my brothers to go on a deep sea fishing trip with him that was to take place just a few weeks after the car accident.  I have two tackle boxes that are old and crusty now, likely full of rotten fish guts and only good for holding memories.  Sweet ones, but memories nonetheless. If he asks me I will tell him, and if he doesn't I have my sweet memories of watching Robert fish, and hearing his fish tales and looking at the mounted fish on our living room wall.   (The one that sits in the garage, in a box too tangible a reminder to enter the house)

But for now, for today, it is all about sharing a childhood memory with my son and being grateful that it is something that I can do!

What a world...

The other evening, I took Munchkin to see Despicable Me 2.  We love going to the movies together even if I do have a small heart attack every time I go to pay!!!

He is old enough now where I let him pick our seats, and he usually picks the top row center.  Not a bad seat. 

As the previews played, there was a new preview, one that wasn't there ten days ago when we saw Monsters University. 

I don't remember the exact wording, but it had to do with locating your exits and how to leave in an emergency.   WOW.  My heart stopped.  I knew where it came from.  All of us grownups know about the shooting at the movie theater in Colorado.  The shooting at the Sandy Hook.  We know about the random terrible crap and evil that permeates our world today.   I am not quite sure WHY I was so shocked.   This is not news and really a reminder to look for your emergency exits is a good idea-but for some odd reason it made me feel sick.  

Perhaps it was because I know that all too soon, it won't be cool to go to the movies with your mom, he will want to go with his friends. That means, that I will have to let go of his hand and trust him to make good choices long before I am ready to do so.  I am quite comforted by the illusion that I can protect him, even if I know deep down that it is ONLY and illusion.

Perhaps it is because I know that life is precarious and precious and changes in a flash.  While sometimes those changes are positive, they are not always so.  Sometimes those changes are catastrophic and push us into unchartered territory where we can no longer keep our head above water with our some serious support.  I. KNOW. THIS.  I should not be shocked that other people with cool heads have decided that it is a good idea to get people to look at exit signs.  It is a good idea.

So I took a deep breath and reminded myself that bad things don't always happen, that there are good things in the world and maybe just maybe I can help my son hold onto the solace of the good things.  I can't erase the tragedy that we have endured, but I can bolster us with the good around us.   I can demonstrate to him that we laugh, we play, we act silly, we love and we enjoy life.  We do all of that IN SPITE of the evil and tragedy that abounds in this world because that is how I survive.  

Perfect Moment Monday-June 2013-Bullseye!

Yes, I know it is no longer Monday...like many things these days, the best of intentions are derailed by playtime.   Here is the thing my six year old Munchkin WANTS to play with ME.  He always has, but at this age, I know this childhood bliss is limited and mom will soon be second fiddle to a whole bunch of things-so I will soak it in while I can!

So here is my perfect moment from the month. 

Munchkin is now a Cub Scout, which means that he was eligible to attend Cub Scout Camp.  He has been looking forward to it for an entire year, ever since his cousin who is a year older went last summer and has raved about how cool it was.  To a six year old that means the world. 

Let me tell you, it lived up to the childhood hype.  The camp was impeccably run.  The kids had a great time.   Now mind you,  my Munchkin was the youngest and smallest one there and also the only one to not have been exposed to a lot of the activities previously as the other first time kids had older brothers in the pack and have been before.  Like Archery for example.

Scouts run things in a manner in which you have to earn things (like arrowheads for bullseyes and bear claws for bullseyes on the bb gun range).  This means that starting out the week, Munchkin had BIG things at stake for a six year old.  When we started, he absolutely could not hit a target to save his life.  He was crushed when he came off that range empty handed.   It did not matter to him that less than 1/2 of our pack earned a prize, all that mattered was that he did not.  He was in tears.  My heart broke for him.  His cousin a year older told him that it would be ok, that by the end of the week he would be able to make a bullseye and get a prize. 

Those words coming from his cousin meant more to me than anything.   That another child would show such open compassion-that is nearly a perfect world.  There was not taunting, no name calling not any of that.  Simply his cousin's arm around his shoulder as he wiped his tears and the two of them walking towards my brother and I. 

And you know what, by the end of the week, he did in fact earn his prize and there was not a prouder kiddo or parent at that camp. 


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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.