Amidst my down in the dumps head comes the following three thoughts that came at just the right time this week. Enjoy--I sure did!
Thought #1:
The Broken Pot
A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on an end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the masters house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his masters house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."
"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your masters house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts." the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the masters house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."
Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again the Pot apologized to the bearer for its failure.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pots side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my masters table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."
Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But if we will allow it, the Lord will use our flaws to grace His Father's table. In Gods great economy, nothing goes to waste. Don't be afraid of your flaws. Acknowledge them, and you too can be the cause of beauty.
Thought #2:
"I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone, nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and... have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead, we remember that faith is always pointed toward the future. Faith always has to do with blessings and truths and events that will yet be efficacious in our lives. So a more theological way to talk about Lot’s wife is to say that she did not have faith. She doubted the Lord’s ability to give her something better than she already had. Apparently she thought—fatally, as it turned out—that nothing that lay ahead could possibly be as good as those moments she was leaving behind."
Remember Lot's Wife--Jeffrey R. Holland
Thought #3:
Men's Hearts Shall Fail Them
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Bipolar
No, not a real diagnosis. But it is how I feel a majority of the time these days. I can go from "everything is ok" to "everything is hell" in about 10 seconds flat. It is interesting to me too. This sort of experience could cause someone to develop bipolar tendancies--if I were just a tad younger, it could be text book bipolar. Adam and I had many discussions about the mental illness of bipolarism. It is interesting what causes people to have a "break"--and certainly what I'm experiencing would cause some people to break.
I would probably have become an alcoholic. It is a very good thing that Adam and I had talked about that "what if" right before he died. It would be a slap in his face to drink, seeing as he was killed by a drunk and all, so I won't. It's probably the only thing keeping me from that. Well, that and the fact that all my friends who drink socially think that alcoholism is "someone else's problem." It is interesting for me to sit back and watch this phenomenon. It angers me. A lot.
I'm really on the edge of done. I don't know what that means since I don't believe in suicide and would never do such a thing. I've had people tell me things like "Wow, if my husband/wife died, I would just have to kill myself." Thanks. What a statement. How helpful. I'm sure everyone thinks that's what they'd do. But like all the other statements I'm told, what one 'thinks' they'd do and what they'd 'actually' do are two different things.
I have my kids. Yes. But I don't have the love of my life. It is the ultimate in irony that he is the only one--ONLY ONE--that could help in such devastation. And since I don't have him, well...WHAT? What do I do? What goals do I really have? How do I go about life? How do I attempt to plan? I don't. I have been paralyzed for so long. I'm tired of the paralyzing feelings I have.
I broke down today several times. Once while I was watching something on tv while I was having a snack after picking the kids up from school. I must have done one of those blubbering gaspy cry things because both Carson and Spencer stopped what they were doing and heard me. Carson looked at me and said "crying" and then Spencer asked me why I was crying. Interestingly, when I told Spencer that "I miss Daddy," he went and got one of the "daddy books" and brought it to me. He told me to look at it so I could be happy. It had the opposite effect, but it was sweet of Spencer to try to cheer me up. Carson came over and pointed to Adam in the book and said "Daddy."
I'm just FEELING the loss, the finality to it all. I think back where I've come from and I think that even when I 'thought' I felt it, I know it was more intellectualized loss than anything. I can now feel it with every fiber of my being.
It is hell.
Yet it makes me think about all the times I spent with Adam. It is weird (but a gift from God, I can definitely acknowledge) that I had many thoughts that were so odd through our relationship. Every inch of his body is etched in my mind, in my hands--I can literally almost mold him with my hands. I distinctly remember feeling his face, outlining every inch of him and imagining if I had been suddenly blind, would I know him by touch. I think he and I talked about this. I remember always wanting to remember every bit of him if such a thing happened. And I'm glad that I do. To a point.
I think that's what is so hard for me to figure out how to let go of his place in my life. It really never was about all the worldly status things--it wasn't about money, it wasn't about his profession, it wasn't about how smart he was. It was about who he was deep down. It was about how he made me feel when he was with me. It was about how I made him feel. It was about being able to peel back all the layers of who we really were and be real with each other. That is a very difficult thing to do--to BE--with another person. I know not all relationships have that.
I know it is possible to love again. I know it because I've seen it. And I don't think it is an impossible, mythical, theoretical thing. I know some widowed people (it's amazing how many of met now!) who 'seem' on the outside to be "professional widows/ers." And I don't want to be that. I know that it took a long time to cultivate and grow the relationship that I had with Adam, and that if a similar relationship comes my way, it'll be even more tough to do. I don't really know how young single moms my age find time to date...unless they have family around that constantly encourages that sort of thing and doesn't appear burdened with watching little ones. I mean, I think back about when I dated Adam (keeping in mind, I was 19). We'd go out at 6 or 7 and come home at midnight (my curfew...he didn't have one). That kind of in depth dating was necessary to really learn about each other. Not that people have to be out til midnight. But dating has to be...unscripted...to get to know someone deeply. But now, I feel like that is impossible. I have kids. Responsibility. And a sitter costs money. And that is unreasonable to ask my friends to watch kids that long.
I am asked if I get breaks. Yes, I suppose I do. I routinely have 4-6 times a month that I ask friends to watch the boys for varying lengths of time. Generally I get out to go to my widowed friends' group dinner once a month. And to a church scout meeting once a month without kids. And a weekend night or two a month for 3 or 4 hours at a time. And I suppose that's more than a lot for some. I'm grateful for that time and the sweet friends that take my kids.
But it is what I come home to that doesn't end. Ever. Tantrums. Yelling. Backtalk. Yes. It is what every parent deals with. I have always dealt with this stuff. But it was very different to have Adam to take the kids to another room, to discipline them, to give me a time out daily. Give and take. It is what we do in relationships as parents and as spouses.
I guess as I move forward to the whole "acceptance" phase of my life, it is just SO HARD. I don't want to accept any of this. I want to close my eyes, pretend we're in Houston (where we would've been) in our 4 bedroom rented house and swimming in pools, and pretend that all the time that we spent in Adam's learning and professional life was not a total waste. I know it wasn't, truly, but some days it feels like my life is one big lie, one big waste. What kind of person sets out to move across the country to the middle of the frozen tundra away from family, has 3 kids, plans on being a stay at home mom and then says...JUST KIDDING! That whole plan was a big joke. Start from scratch and try again! No one.
And yes, I know no one sets out to get divorced, to be widowed. Those things just sort of happen.
It is stupid.
It is impossible to completely plan for. IMPOSSIBLE.
It is hard knowing that there isn't anything to look forward to. And no, I'm not talking money here. But just being together as a couple. Looking forward to having late night pillow talk. Analyzing the world together, teaching each other. Enjoying the children we created together, creating more children. That's huge. And I keep lamenting it. Circular reasoning, I know. But it is real and having had it snatched away...I don't know how to forget it since it was all so good. Hard to tell myself, "Nope, that's just all gone now. Deal with it."
It's just ALL GONE. And nothing will change that.
And mostly days, even though I come up with a million different options for my future jobs or furthering my education or attempting to create some sort of real path for my life....I don't care about ANY of it. Because Adam isn't here to care about any of it. While I know he DOES care and cares for me and the boys and our future...I don't really know what he thinks. And that is what kills me.
I don't know how to change this mindset. Because there ISN'T a way out of this hole I'm in.
It isn't just a matter of how we'll make it financially and when I do have to work. It is listening to my single mom friends who have teenage children who cannot care for themselves at home before/after school and cannot go to daycare. I think about all the what ifs. What if I'm in the same situation. My kids don't have a daddy out there to help on weekends. Or at all. Ever. Again.
HOW WILL THIS WORK LONG TERM???
It isn't logical.
I get mad at God. I get mad at Adam. I get mad at myself. The 'how to' all this doesn't make sense.
Where is that other man out there who knows how I feel, who loves his wife with the same intensity that I love Adam, and can take a chance at loving my boys--AND ME. And can I love someone else's kids? I have talked to single-never-married-before men and I watch their reaction to hearing that I have 3 kids. One kid...hmm, maybe not a deal-breaker...but 3? Heck no, RUN THE OTHER WAY! And I get that. If I didn't already have 3 kids, maybe I'd have that same mentality.
Yes. I mentioned bipolar. And you are witnessing my psyche today.
Did I mention I decorated the Christmas tree today? With 3 children? One of whom thinks it is more fun to un-decorate the tree? And I had to put up all of 'our' favorites, ones that we had on our first Christmas together, just 8 days after we were married.
I think Christmas is my least favorite holiday now. It used to be my fav. I think it's the fact that I got married around Christmas time. This time of year brings so many good and bad memories all at once.
This is going to be one heck of a month.
Glad I got that out of my system. It was a long time coming. So now I can post the "good" that I've wanted to post...it is next up.
I would probably have become an alcoholic. It is a very good thing that Adam and I had talked about that "what if" right before he died. It would be a slap in his face to drink, seeing as he was killed by a drunk and all, so I won't. It's probably the only thing keeping me from that. Well, that and the fact that all my friends who drink socially think that alcoholism is "someone else's problem." It is interesting for me to sit back and watch this phenomenon. It angers me. A lot.
I'm really on the edge of done. I don't know what that means since I don't believe in suicide and would never do such a thing. I've had people tell me things like "Wow, if my husband/wife died, I would just have to kill myself." Thanks. What a statement. How helpful. I'm sure everyone thinks that's what they'd do. But like all the other statements I'm told, what one 'thinks' they'd do and what they'd 'actually' do are two different things.
I have my kids. Yes. But I don't have the love of my life. It is the ultimate in irony that he is the only one--ONLY ONE--that could help in such devastation. And since I don't have him, well...WHAT? What do I do? What goals do I really have? How do I go about life? How do I attempt to plan? I don't. I have been paralyzed for so long. I'm tired of the paralyzing feelings I have.
I broke down today several times. Once while I was watching something on tv while I was having a snack after picking the kids up from school. I must have done one of those blubbering gaspy cry things because both Carson and Spencer stopped what they were doing and heard me. Carson looked at me and said "crying" and then Spencer asked me why I was crying. Interestingly, when I told Spencer that "I miss Daddy," he went and got one of the "daddy books" and brought it to me. He told me to look at it so I could be happy. It had the opposite effect, but it was sweet of Spencer to try to cheer me up. Carson came over and pointed to Adam in the book and said "Daddy."
I'm just FEELING the loss, the finality to it all. I think back where I've come from and I think that even when I 'thought' I felt it, I know it was more intellectualized loss than anything. I can now feel it with every fiber of my being.
It is hell.
Yet it makes me think about all the times I spent with Adam. It is weird (but a gift from God, I can definitely acknowledge) that I had many thoughts that were so odd through our relationship. Every inch of his body is etched in my mind, in my hands--I can literally almost mold him with my hands. I distinctly remember feeling his face, outlining every inch of him and imagining if I had been suddenly blind, would I know him by touch. I think he and I talked about this. I remember always wanting to remember every bit of him if such a thing happened. And I'm glad that I do. To a point.
I think that's what is so hard for me to figure out how to let go of his place in my life. It really never was about all the worldly status things--it wasn't about money, it wasn't about his profession, it wasn't about how smart he was. It was about who he was deep down. It was about how he made me feel when he was with me. It was about how I made him feel. It was about being able to peel back all the layers of who we really were and be real with each other. That is a very difficult thing to do--to BE--with another person. I know not all relationships have that.
I know it is possible to love again. I know it because I've seen it. And I don't think it is an impossible, mythical, theoretical thing. I know some widowed people (it's amazing how many of met now!) who 'seem' on the outside to be "professional widows/ers." And I don't want to be that. I know that it took a long time to cultivate and grow the relationship that I had with Adam, and that if a similar relationship comes my way, it'll be even more tough to do. I don't really know how young single moms my age find time to date...unless they have family around that constantly encourages that sort of thing and doesn't appear burdened with watching little ones. I mean, I think back about when I dated Adam (keeping in mind, I was 19). We'd go out at 6 or 7 and come home at midnight (my curfew...he didn't have one). That kind of in depth dating was necessary to really learn about each other. Not that people have to be out til midnight. But dating has to be...unscripted...to get to know someone deeply. But now, I feel like that is impossible. I have kids. Responsibility. And a sitter costs money. And that is unreasonable to ask my friends to watch kids that long.
I am asked if I get breaks. Yes, I suppose I do. I routinely have 4-6 times a month that I ask friends to watch the boys for varying lengths of time. Generally I get out to go to my widowed friends' group dinner once a month. And to a church scout meeting once a month without kids. And a weekend night or two a month for 3 or 4 hours at a time. And I suppose that's more than a lot for some. I'm grateful for that time and the sweet friends that take my kids.
But it is what I come home to that doesn't end. Ever. Tantrums. Yelling. Backtalk. Yes. It is what every parent deals with. I have always dealt with this stuff. But it was very different to have Adam to take the kids to another room, to discipline them, to give me a time out daily. Give and take. It is what we do in relationships as parents and as spouses.
I guess as I move forward to the whole "acceptance" phase of my life, it is just SO HARD. I don't want to accept any of this. I want to close my eyes, pretend we're in Houston (where we would've been) in our 4 bedroom rented house and swimming in pools, and pretend that all the time that we spent in Adam's learning and professional life was not a total waste. I know it wasn't, truly, but some days it feels like my life is one big lie, one big waste. What kind of person sets out to move across the country to the middle of the frozen tundra away from family, has 3 kids, plans on being a stay at home mom and then says...JUST KIDDING! That whole plan was a big joke. Start from scratch and try again! No one.
And yes, I know no one sets out to get divorced, to be widowed. Those things just sort of happen.
It is stupid.
It is impossible to completely plan for. IMPOSSIBLE.
It is hard knowing that there isn't anything to look forward to. And no, I'm not talking money here. But just being together as a couple. Looking forward to having late night pillow talk. Analyzing the world together, teaching each other. Enjoying the children we created together, creating more children. That's huge. And I keep lamenting it. Circular reasoning, I know. But it is real and having had it snatched away...I don't know how to forget it since it was all so good. Hard to tell myself, "Nope, that's just all gone now. Deal with it."
It's just ALL GONE. And nothing will change that.
And mostly days, even though I come up with a million different options for my future jobs or furthering my education or attempting to create some sort of real path for my life....I don't care about ANY of it. Because Adam isn't here to care about any of it. While I know he DOES care and cares for me and the boys and our future...I don't really know what he thinks. And that is what kills me.
I don't know how to change this mindset. Because there ISN'T a way out of this hole I'm in.
It isn't just a matter of how we'll make it financially and when I do have to work. It is listening to my single mom friends who have teenage children who cannot care for themselves at home before/after school and cannot go to daycare. I think about all the what ifs. What if I'm in the same situation. My kids don't have a daddy out there to help on weekends. Or at all. Ever. Again.
HOW WILL THIS WORK LONG TERM???
It isn't logical.
I get mad at God. I get mad at Adam. I get mad at myself. The 'how to' all this doesn't make sense.
Where is that other man out there who knows how I feel, who loves his wife with the same intensity that I love Adam, and can take a chance at loving my boys--AND ME. And can I love someone else's kids? I have talked to single-never-married-before men and I watch their reaction to hearing that I have 3 kids. One kid...hmm, maybe not a deal-breaker...but 3? Heck no, RUN THE OTHER WAY! And I get that. If I didn't already have 3 kids, maybe I'd have that same mentality.
Yes. I mentioned bipolar. And you are witnessing my psyche today.
Did I mention I decorated the Christmas tree today? With 3 children? One of whom thinks it is more fun to un-decorate the tree? And I had to put up all of 'our' favorites, ones that we had on our first Christmas together, just 8 days after we were married.
I think Christmas is my least favorite holiday now. It used to be my fav. I think it's the fact that I got married around Christmas time. This time of year brings so many good and bad memories all at once.
This is going to be one heck of a month.
Glad I got that out of my system. It was a long time coming. So now I can post the "good" that I've wanted to post...it is next up.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Gratitude
Today I'm thankful for friends. I have told several people lately of the fact that while family is important, having good friends who surround us brings the spice of life and makes life not only bearable, but enjoyable.
Last night, a sweet friend did one of the kindest things I could ask for--and I didn't even ask for it. The boys' therapist told me that I need to send my boys away with friends, or have someone stay at my house weekly while I go elsewhere to sleep. My friend offered to take the boys overnight--all of them. It was the best thing. She offered to do this before the therapist suggested this. I didn't see it as a coincidence. A night of uninterrupted sleep, other than my quick awakenings only to realize my good fortune and fall back asleep. I got to sleep in until 8:15 and not have to jump out of bed to change diapers and clean up wet boys. It felt SO good. It was also good to be able to go out with friends the previos night for dinner and a movie. Merry Christmas to me!
You know, just when I think that God has forgotten me and isn't aware of my battles, He places good people in my life. God doesn't promise us money trees, instant gratification, or an "easy" way out--but He does provide a way. The way might not be our first choice or even logical to our minds. But He knows. And He knows us. I'm so grateful to have friends who listen to the promptings they receive from God, for my life has been richly blessed to be associated with such amazing people. Thank you, sweet friends.
Last night, a sweet friend did one of the kindest things I could ask for--and I didn't even ask for it. The boys' therapist told me that I need to send my boys away with friends, or have someone stay at my house weekly while I go elsewhere to sleep. My friend offered to take the boys overnight--all of them. It was the best thing. She offered to do this before the therapist suggested this. I didn't see it as a coincidence. A night of uninterrupted sleep, other than my quick awakenings only to realize my good fortune and fall back asleep. I got to sleep in until 8:15 and not have to jump out of bed to change diapers and clean up wet boys. It felt SO good. It was also good to be able to go out with friends the previos night for dinner and a movie. Merry Christmas to me!
You know, just when I think that God has forgotten me and isn't aware of my battles, He places good people in my life. God doesn't promise us money trees, instant gratification, or an "easy" way out--but He does provide a way. The way might not be our first choice or even logical to our minds. But He knows. And He knows us. I'm so grateful to have friends who listen to the promptings they receive from God, for my life has been richly blessed to be associated with such amazing people. Thank you, sweet friends.
Monday, November 14, 2011
priorities
I find myself struggling. For the past 24 hours I haven't felt well so it is interesting how everything gets thrown into perspective. At one point Justin said "You need to find a new husband so someone will take care of all of us when you are sick." Hmm. It isn't that simple, oh 9 year old. It is interesting to me how his little brain works. It is so very age appropriate, everything he does is very text book like. I can't stand text books. I would like them more if there was an accurate textbook outlining everything I do. Or should do.
The other morning I put the kids in the shower and said aloud all the thoughts in my head for 2 minutes. Whew, did I ever unload! I have a million thoughts centering on a million completely different things at any one given time. I think I've grown accustomed to this madness in my head. I remember the first time I experienced this. It was the night after Adam died. Someone had incorrectly stated on facebook that "the doctors had sedated" me. Of course this wasn't something I saw written about me until much after the initial weeks of chaos. I laughed when I saw this though and realized that the person who wrote it didn't have understanding that docs don't just go around sedating family members of trauma (if only it were that simple) and that because of all that was going on, it wouldn't have helped me any to be sedated even if it were possible. I was in the midst of hell and had to be awake for it all. What actually happened the night Adam died was I sat listening to Spencer cry out in pain for his daddy every 30 seconds. He didn't sleep; the meds that he was getting didn't knock him out as he needed either. And so I sat in a recliner in his room and cried and my mind raced. It raced about a million things. All unsolvable problems, I thought and thought. It was insane. And now, I feel just as insane. The difference is that I'm not keeping close eyes on when meds are given (since there aren't any) but I still sit and stew about the many problems that I can't find solutions to. I know my friends are probably sick of hearing me try to come up with answers, but the bottom line is that there aren't any easy answers. And I still struggle with being responsible for making decisions that affect everything. Every darn thing.
Spencer is really struggling at school. I got a call from his teacher today (it isn't very fun to get a phone call from school during the day....My first thought is, "Ugh, who is sick or hurt?"). She told me that he fell asleep in the middle of the morning during the noisiest part of the day, and then when they woke him up he peed in his pants. Again. Why does everything in my home involve penises? I mean seriously. And course that was another word Carson has learned, thanks to his big brothers. Oh well, at least they are anatomically accurate, which Adam and I always agreed that would be the way our kids would he taught about life. I am so sick of urine.
I'm trying to figure out how to better prioritize things in my life. I haven't figured out how to do that, but after today's phone call, I feel the urgency to help Spencer get "normal." He needs to sleep normally, play normally, and get his frustrations out in a normal, healthy manner. I just haven't quite figured out HOW.
Back to HOW. It never is about the why. Just how. There is still no how-to manual. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm writing it.
The other morning I put the kids in the shower and said aloud all the thoughts in my head for 2 minutes. Whew, did I ever unload! I have a million thoughts centering on a million completely different things at any one given time. I think I've grown accustomed to this madness in my head. I remember the first time I experienced this. It was the night after Adam died. Someone had incorrectly stated on facebook that "the doctors had sedated" me. Of course this wasn't something I saw written about me until much after the initial weeks of chaos. I laughed when I saw this though and realized that the person who wrote it didn't have understanding that docs don't just go around sedating family members of trauma (if only it were that simple) and that because of all that was going on, it wouldn't have helped me any to be sedated even if it were possible. I was in the midst of hell and had to be awake for it all. What actually happened the night Adam died was I sat listening to Spencer cry out in pain for his daddy every 30 seconds. He didn't sleep; the meds that he was getting didn't knock him out as he needed either. And so I sat in a recliner in his room and cried and my mind raced. It raced about a million things. All unsolvable problems, I thought and thought. It was insane. And now, I feel just as insane. The difference is that I'm not keeping close eyes on when meds are given (since there aren't any) but I still sit and stew about the many problems that I can't find solutions to. I know my friends are probably sick of hearing me try to come up with answers, but the bottom line is that there aren't any easy answers. And I still struggle with being responsible for making decisions that affect everything. Every darn thing.
Spencer is really struggling at school. I got a call from his teacher today (it isn't very fun to get a phone call from school during the day....My first thought is, "Ugh, who is sick or hurt?"). She told me that he fell asleep in the middle of the morning during the noisiest part of the day, and then when they woke him up he peed in his pants. Again. Why does everything in my home involve penises? I mean seriously. And course that was another word Carson has learned, thanks to his big brothers. Oh well, at least they are anatomically accurate, which Adam and I always agreed that would be the way our kids would he taught about life. I am so sick of urine.
I'm trying to figure out how to better prioritize things in my life. I haven't figured out how to do that, but after today's phone call, I feel the urgency to help Spencer get "normal." He needs to sleep normally, play normally, and get his frustrations out in a normal, healthy manner. I just haven't quite figured out HOW.
Back to HOW. It never is about the why. Just how. There is still no how-to manual. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm writing it.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Fireplace
It is probably psychological. The thought that there might be snow tomorrow just makes me want the fireplace on. And in a blink of an eye, I don't care that we've outgrown this house. The fireplace is everything and makes me want to stay in this house forever. The fact that I can literally flip a switch and have fire and warmth makes everything better. The memories this fireplace holds also makes the thought of moving away...well, difficult.
For family night tonight, we watched family movies. It was strangely comforting and heartbreaking to hear Adam's voice, his laugh, to hear him say our names, to watch him play with the boys, and to be so...alive. I broke down multiple times. He was a good daddy, but a good husband. Mine. It seems so unfair that he is gone.
I watched a devotional yesterday on BYU-TV that was very important and a phrase that I heard changed some of my thoughts. He said that in the temple we learn of God's ultimate fairness. I've never thought of the temple in those words, but I love them. I can't think of anything more fair than understanding where I was before I came to earth, why I'm here, and where I'm going. But the "fair" part comes in understanding that those truths are universal--they apply to all people living on earth and all people who ever lived. It wouldn't make sense that those who died without the opportunity to learn of Christ and His teachings would be punished or not receive the same blessings that we can all obtain. Ultimate fairness. I love the temple. So much to learn everytime I go. It really is a place of peace, but also a place where heaven and earth meet. We all need to be there and receive those blessings. I am eternally grateful that Adam and I made covenants in a temple of God that will bind our family together eternally. I'm glad it wasn't simply "til death do us part." We are not parted.
Off to sit by the fire and enjoy the quiet for the evening. I wish every night could be this nice. If only Adam were here, stretched out by the fire as he used to do on nights like this.
For family night tonight, we watched family movies. It was strangely comforting and heartbreaking to hear Adam's voice, his laugh, to hear him say our names, to watch him play with the boys, and to be so...alive. I broke down multiple times. He was a good daddy, but a good husband. Mine. It seems so unfair that he is gone.
I watched a devotional yesterday on BYU-TV that was very important and a phrase that I heard changed some of my thoughts. He said that in the temple we learn of God's ultimate fairness. I've never thought of the temple in those words, but I love them. I can't think of anything more fair than understanding where I was before I came to earth, why I'm here, and where I'm going. But the "fair" part comes in understanding that those truths are universal--they apply to all people living on earth and all people who ever lived. It wouldn't make sense that those who died without the opportunity to learn of Christ and His teachings would be punished or not receive the same blessings that we can all obtain. Ultimate fairness. I love the temple. So much to learn everytime I go. It really is a place of peace, but also a place where heaven and earth meet. We all need to be there and receive those blessings. I am eternally grateful that Adam and I made covenants in a temple of God that will bind our family together eternally. I'm glad it wasn't simply "til death do us part." We are not parted.
Off to sit by the fire and enjoy the quiet for the evening. I wish every night could be this nice. If only Adam were here, stretched out by the fire as he used to do on nights like this.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Eureka!
I found them. I have been looking for these pictures since Adam died, but have really been looking for them on and off since we moved into this house in 2006. I was starting to think they were gone for good. But then tonight I knew I needed to search again. I'm sort of shocked to have actually found them.
I'm sort of (or more than...) a packrat. No, not a hoarder (truly!), but I am very sentimental. I keep cards, notes, maps from trips or ticket stubs to special dates and outings. For years I kept up on it (placed these things in 3-ring binder/scrapbooks), but when we moved from our apartment in '06, I somehow didn't keep up on it all. Instead I keep hanging file folders that are divided by person in our family and year. When I get back in my groove (I'm still hoping for that to happen) I will scrapbook them. No, I don't make cutesy scrapbooks either. Tried it for a short time but realized it would be entirely too much work for how I scrapbook. Anyway. So papers are my demons. I will sort and get rid of things and then somehow the next day I'm full of paperwork again.
It was a good thing that Adam was one of the most laid back people in the planet. He never once yapped about my cleaning my paperwork piles--probably because he knew me well enough to know that my own yapping at myself was a constant in my head! It's interesting though, my "saver" attitude has come in handy. I think I have nearly every letter or note Adam has written to me, nearly everything that could possibly be tangible of him now. That is comforting.
I had to laugh a bit at the contents of that box tonight. The pictures were right on the top in little manila folders--they were the pictures that we bought of ourselves at our last cruise. They weren't great (so we thought at the time) but now they are priceless and perfect. We never took very many pictures of ourselves together through our years of marriage. It seemed we were always chasing kids to get pictures, somehow deemed those pictures as more important. I find myself very conscious of that now--taking pictures just of the kids without me in the pictures. I try periodically to have other people get a shot of us together. It's tricky now.
I found good and bad things in that box. The pictures are priceless. So is the card that I found from Adam on what must've been my birthday or something. But I found a few interesting things. Some writings I'd done that need to go in a burn pile. Thoughts from a different space in time. I found coupons. That makes me laugh. I still save coupons periodically but I find that they're generally more work than worth the 50 cents off some item when I'm wrestling 3 kids in a grocery store. I found a picture from Justin that I didn't know existed. And then I argued with myself whether he looked like Carson or not. Carson is such a fun mixture of Adam and me. I think in the end he will look more like Adam though. And then I found one more thing for my "to-do" pile: a giant medical school class picture. It was really nice. The "to-do" for me is writing down the stories I remember Adam telling me about his classmates. We talked about so much, even though these people didn't/don't know me, I felt much like I knew them--I knew their family stories, their relationship drama, their religious beliefs, their bedside manner, even as a young med student. It all was amusing. But more importantly, this picture reminded me of certain people that I'm sure do not know that Adam died and would want to know. Yep. I have more homework assignments. Off to search Facebook for more people. Facebook has turned strangely useful for my own therapeutic way of finding Adam's old friends. Good old technology. And to think it all started with a box tonight. How I wish there were 10 more such boxes like that in the basement. I'm bummed it is the last one.
At least I have new pictures of my handsome hubby to reflect on. I'm so grateful for that.
I'm sort of (or more than...) a packrat. No, not a hoarder (truly!), but I am very sentimental. I keep cards, notes, maps from trips or ticket stubs to special dates and outings. For years I kept up on it (placed these things in 3-ring binder/scrapbooks), but when we moved from our apartment in '06, I somehow didn't keep up on it all. Instead I keep hanging file folders that are divided by person in our family and year. When I get back in my groove (I'm still hoping for that to happen) I will scrapbook them. No, I don't make cutesy scrapbooks either. Tried it for a short time but realized it would be entirely too much work for how I scrapbook. Anyway. So papers are my demons. I will sort and get rid of things and then somehow the next day I'm full of paperwork again.
It was a good thing that Adam was one of the most laid back people in the planet. He never once yapped about my cleaning my paperwork piles--probably because he knew me well enough to know that my own yapping at myself was a constant in my head! It's interesting though, my "saver" attitude has come in handy. I think I have nearly every letter or note Adam has written to me, nearly everything that could possibly be tangible of him now. That is comforting.
I had to laugh a bit at the contents of that box tonight. The pictures were right on the top in little manila folders--they were the pictures that we bought of ourselves at our last cruise. They weren't great (so we thought at the time) but now they are priceless and perfect. We never took very many pictures of ourselves together through our years of marriage. It seemed we were always chasing kids to get pictures, somehow deemed those pictures as more important. I find myself very conscious of that now--taking pictures just of the kids without me in the pictures. I try periodically to have other people get a shot of us together. It's tricky now.
I found good and bad things in that box. The pictures are priceless. So is the card that I found from Adam on what must've been my birthday or something. But I found a few interesting things. Some writings I'd done that need to go in a burn pile. Thoughts from a different space in time. I found coupons. That makes me laugh. I still save coupons periodically but I find that they're generally more work than worth the 50 cents off some item when I'm wrestling 3 kids in a grocery store. I found a picture from Justin that I didn't know existed. And then I argued with myself whether he looked like Carson or not. Carson is such a fun mixture of Adam and me. I think in the end he will look more like Adam though. And then I found one more thing for my "to-do" pile: a giant medical school class picture. It was really nice. The "to-do" for me is writing down the stories I remember Adam telling me about his classmates. We talked about so much, even though these people didn't/don't know me, I felt much like I knew them--I knew their family stories, their relationship drama, their religious beliefs, their bedside manner, even as a young med student. It all was amusing. But more importantly, this picture reminded me of certain people that I'm sure do not know that Adam died and would want to know. Yep. I have more homework assignments. Off to search Facebook for more people. Facebook has turned strangely useful for my own therapeutic way of finding Adam's old friends. Good old technology. And to think it all started with a box tonight. How I wish there were 10 more such boxes like that in the basement. I'm bummed it is the last one.
At least I have new pictures of my handsome hubby to reflect on. I'm so grateful for that.