bit me. Hard. It was at a place that I totally wasn't expecting to have a grief fit. And it really made me irritated. Can't I go some place fun and simple without having unexpected tears?
No. And that's the problem. People don't know how to handle tears. It makes them uncomfortable. And they want to "fix" the "problem." This is unfixable. I don't know how to handle my tears too.
It stinks.
This was a simple social event where I would be meeting people who didn't know me and my family members, so of course the natural questions of "where do you live, what do you do, how many kids to you have" etc. just sort of come up in conversation.
But it was having to listen to the response of my mother that got me tonight. She didn't answer incorrectly, wrongly, or bad--there just wasn't a simple "out" or simplistic response to her conversation. A woman asked her how many grandkids she has, to which she replied, "4." It was just chit-chat. The woman asked her how many kids she has, to which she replied, "4." But then the lady asked how many were married of her 4 children. Hmmm. How to respond easily to that one? "My two oldest are married" was an easy enough answer and is how she chose to respond. I mean, really--was she supposed to say "my oldest son is married and my oldest daughter is widowed"...? No. To strangers who really don't care per se (or need to know)...just saying that the oldest two children are married made the most sense. It really wasn't her response that made me cry. It was mostly the craptasticness of the situation that made me frustrated. The stigma of being a single parent--even though it came about unwillingly for me. It was just, well, odd to overhear this conversation--sort of out of body-like.
My sister lost the love of her life during her senior year of high school. His loss was unexpected and was felt far reaching by many. Adam and I mourned, even though we didn't really know this young man. We mourned because my family--my sister--mourned. Our heart ached for her. Tonight we were in the company of people who knew of this young man's passing. When the connection to our family was realized, one woman thought (probably because I couldn't look at her/listen to her) that he was "my" loss. Finally when I realized she was talking to me and not to my sister sitting next to me, I blurted out "J____ was her sweetheart who passed away. But I know something of loss myself, my husband passed away about a year and a half ago, so that is something we have in common." Of course my sister was bawling. I was more annoyed at this point and just wanted to shelter my sister from people giving her the "awww, poor you" looks and other isms that come to mind.
I have thought about my sister a lot through Adam's loss and dealing with my own grief. But it wasn't until I was sitting side by side and wanting so much to stop the pestering of questions of her that I realized how alike we were in this crazy twist of life. I imagined how it would've been if her sweetheart would've been married to her when he died--if she were also a "widow." Granted, our lives aren't the same and being actually married and actually having children together is something that is entirely different that loving someone deeply. Yet, the heartbreak is similar. Similarly stupid, ridiculous, ugly, horrifying, maddening, frustrating, disgusting, and similarly...the same.
She was embarrassed by her tears, I think they shocked her. And yet I also realized how much I have to purge from me before I truly come to terms with it all. It will be a lifetime. I don't understand how I will ever get to that "ok" point where things start to make sense. Here it is, all these years later, and the emotions for my sister are still very raw. I think that while I can "fake" my way out of my emotions in front of people generally...these feelings and deep longing for Adam will always be raw. I just keep waiting for the scar tissue to put down layers over these deep wounds. Tonight I think I picked a bit at the scar tissue--a few steps backwards tonight. It is expected. But still annoying.
There is a song on the radio (yes...another one, however annoying) that comes to my mind a lot these days. One of the verses, at the beginning of the song (as well as the chorus) relates how I still feel most days:
Dreams
That's where I have to go
To see your beautiful face anymore
I stare at a picture of you and listen to the radio
Hope, hope there's a conversation
We both admit we had it good
But until then it's alienation
I know that much is understood
And I realize...
If you asked me how I'm doing
I would say I'm doing just fine
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down
At a table set for two
And finally I'm forced to face the truth
No matter what I say I'm...
Not over you.
Not over you.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
The How
"Life doesn't get easier, but blessings do come along that teach me how to do this life."
I read this comment from another widow tonight. It is interesting. I think I flip flop from thinking that the "how" makes sense, back to thinking that I don't know anything. And then I feel guilty (which is false logic) that I'm moping and not counting my blessings. I think this phrase sort of encompasses everything. No, it doesn't bring a solution for me necessarily. But it acknowledges that my life ISN'T going to get easier, while at the same time reminding me that my blessings ARE "THE HOW."
I think that's it. Instead of looking for some THING or some ONE to help whisk my life into what I envisioned for myself at this stage of life, it is about trying to shape my blessings into the HOW-TO MANUAL that I'm LOOKING FOR. DUH! Why did it take this long for me to make sense of it?!
Because I'm supposed to keep learning, that's why. Otherwise I wouldn't need to be here. I have more to learn.
It's almost comical, really. I mean Heavenly Father must think we're so silly sometimes. I sometimes can almost hear what Adam would say or feel what Adam is trying to convey. I can hear him calmly telling me to "smile" or "it's ok" or "be happy." It's funny how he used to tell me all those things--many of his phrases come to me at interestingly well placed moments in my day. Sometimes they are so well-placed that I tell him to shut up and I roll my eyes. And I tell him that it isn't THAT simple. Because it isn't. Yet it IS.
Adam was--and is--a person who was very matter of fact. He didn't like drama. He did, however, like to egg people on. I figured that out early in our relationship. So it was sort of funny that in the later years of our marriage, he chose to poke at others, get them riled up, just for "fun." He was particularly good at this with political discussions. He made people always think he was rooting for the opposite political party in which he supported. Ahh. He would have people so turned around that they didn't know what they had started out debating.
And that's why he married me. I was the only one that could dish out just as much as he tried to throw at me. He met his match.
I find myself daydreaming more. Of conversations we had, of plans never to be had. The boys love hearing stories about their dad daily and will ask me lots of questions. Carson loves to "smell daddy" and will randomly scrunch up his nose during the day and say "Smell. Daddy." He learned this from Spencer, who also asks for this on occasion. I often wonder just how much Adam realized the impact he made on our lives. Mine. On so many lives. Do we realize the impact we have on others? Not fully. It's impossible.
I try to think about ways to help the boys remember Adam. They love having his stocking up. It's just sort of friendly. As I was cleaning the other day, I realized that Mom Porter made his stocking with cross stitched bells. I couldn't help but think about the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" and think about a phrase near the end of the movie. It talks about every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. While I don't personally believe that angels have wings, I think bells serve as a good reminder to me. A reminder of Adam, yes. But a reminder of how well I'm doing, how well am I living up to (or not...) what the Savior would want me to do...and if Adam would be pleased.
Every day we have decisions that we make that determine that whole "how well" issue, how we measure up. I readily admit that I daily have really bad moments that I yell and scream and get mad. Still. I ask Adam how I'm REALLY supposed to do this. And I ask Heavenly Father. And always the answer comes--even when I don't want to hear it--"the way will be prepared. There is a way."
It is through my blessings--the ones that I count daily, the ones my children hear me utter aloud daily in prayer, and those blessing that I don't even recognize--that I will do this. My blessings are "the how." Duh. It is just that simple.
I read this comment from another widow tonight. It is interesting. I think I flip flop from thinking that the "how" makes sense, back to thinking that I don't know anything. And then I feel guilty (which is false logic) that I'm moping and not counting my blessings. I think this phrase sort of encompasses everything. No, it doesn't bring a solution for me necessarily. But it acknowledges that my life ISN'T going to get easier, while at the same time reminding me that my blessings ARE "THE HOW."
I think that's it. Instead of looking for some THING or some ONE to help whisk my life into what I envisioned for myself at this stage of life, it is about trying to shape my blessings into the HOW-TO MANUAL that I'm LOOKING FOR. DUH! Why did it take this long for me to make sense of it?!
Because I'm supposed to keep learning, that's why. Otherwise I wouldn't need to be here. I have more to learn.
It's almost comical, really. I mean Heavenly Father must think we're so silly sometimes. I sometimes can almost hear what Adam would say or feel what Adam is trying to convey. I can hear him calmly telling me to "smile" or "it's ok" or "be happy." It's funny how he used to tell me all those things--many of his phrases come to me at interestingly well placed moments in my day. Sometimes they are so well-placed that I tell him to shut up and I roll my eyes. And I tell him that it isn't THAT simple. Because it isn't. Yet it IS.
Adam was--and is--a person who was very matter of fact. He didn't like drama. He did, however, like to egg people on. I figured that out early in our relationship. So it was sort of funny that in the later years of our marriage, he chose to poke at others, get them riled up, just for "fun." He was particularly good at this with political discussions. He made people always think he was rooting for the opposite political party in which he supported. Ahh. He would have people so turned around that they didn't know what they had started out debating.
And that's why he married me. I was the only one that could dish out just as much as he tried to throw at me. He met his match.
I find myself daydreaming more. Of conversations we had, of plans never to be had. The boys love hearing stories about their dad daily and will ask me lots of questions. Carson loves to "smell daddy" and will randomly scrunch up his nose during the day and say "Smell. Daddy." He learned this from Spencer, who also asks for this on occasion. I often wonder just how much Adam realized the impact he made on our lives. Mine. On so many lives. Do we realize the impact we have on others? Not fully. It's impossible.
I try to think about ways to help the boys remember Adam. They love having his stocking up. It's just sort of friendly. As I was cleaning the other day, I realized that Mom Porter made his stocking with cross stitched bells. I couldn't help but think about the movie "It's a Wonderful Life" and think about a phrase near the end of the movie. It talks about every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. While I don't personally believe that angels have wings, I think bells serve as a good reminder to me. A reminder of Adam, yes. But a reminder of how well I'm doing, how well am I living up to (or not...) what the Savior would want me to do...and if Adam would be pleased.
Every day we have decisions that we make that determine that whole "how well" issue, how we measure up. I readily admit that I daily have really bad moments that I yell and scream and get mad. Still. I ask Adam how I'm REALLY supposed to do this. And I ask Heavenly Father. And always the answer comes--even when I don't want to hear it--"the way will be prepared. There is a way."
It is through my blessings--the ones that I count daily, the ones my children hear me utter aloud daily in prayer, and those blessing that I don't even recognize--that I will do this. My blessings are "the how." Duh. It is just that simple.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Anniversary #12
While some days are randomly more difficult than others, it certainly is the anniversaries that are the most difficult without Adam. Anniversary of his death, wedding anniversary, birthdays. They are all significant for different reasons. I suppose if any of these anniversaries is "good" it is our wedding anniversary, since it is the day that gives me promise that we will be together again. On the whole, it was a good day yesterday. Just waves of sadness mixed in, of course.
My wonderful friend took the boys for 6 whole hours so I could have some time to myself. It was SO appreciated. I started the day giving blood at our church blood drive. I have given blood here in Omaha as long as I can remember. Adam and I had a bet going about him giving blood. Lovely how he got out of that one--he readily admitted that he was scared of needles poking him. I think it was more that he was afraid of making a scene and passing out when he would sit in the chair and realize blood was draining from him. Oh well. He also used to laugh at my giving blood, saying that it is too bad I have a rare blood type since I don't mind giving blood. It would be much better if I had O neg. I used to think he was right until I took care of a patient who had my blood type and I was administering her blood transfusion. It was then that I realized that donations don't go to waste!
So I gave blood. And then I went to the temple and spent several hours there. All I will say about the temple is that I love it. I wish I could be there with all my friends and family daily. There is a peace that comes when we realize that all the day to day nonsense that we endure means nothing in the grand plan of our Heavenly Father, that all the other stuff is simply "stuff." Life really is only about knowing and loving the Savior, observing and keeping the commandments and our covenants. I love the temple. There is peace and strengh there that cannot be found elsewhere. While it will always be difficult to see the little old couples at the temple and think to myself that "that should've been us," in the grand scheme of things, I know it is ok. Our time together isn't over. He is just absent for a season in my life.
On the way home I picked up some PF Chang's to enjoy when kids were quiet. That was nice. A quiet meal without tantrums and not having to wolf a meal down before the next family disaster is always appreciated.
I just miss him. Plain and simple. I know I always will and that is hard. It is not like a papercut that heals. Time does not "heal all wounds." The wounds will always be there. I know that it will simply take a lot of scar tissue to dull the pain. A lifetime of scar tissue.
My wonderful friend took the boys for 6 whole hours so I could have some time to myself. It was SO appreciated. I started the day giving blood at our church blood drive. I have given blood here in Omaha as long as I can remember. Adam and I had a bet going about him giving blood. Lovely how he got out of that one--he readily admitted that he was scared of needles poking him. I think it was more that he was afraid of making a scene and passing out when he would sit in the chair and realize blood was draining from him. Oh well. He also used to laugh at my giving blood, saying that it is too bad I have a rare blood type since I don't mind giving blood. It would be much better if I had O neg. I used to think he was right until I took care of a patient who had my blood type and I was administering her blood transfusion. It was then that I realized that donations don't go to waste!
So I gave blood. And then I went to the temple and spent several hours there. All I will say about the temple is that I love it. I wish I could be there with all my friends and family daily. There is a peace that comes when we realize that all the day to day nonsense that we endure means nothing in the grand plan of our Heavenly Father, that all the other stuff is simply "stuff." Life really is only about knowing and loving the Savior, observing and keeping the commandments and our covenants. I love the temple. There is peace and strengh there that cannot be found elsewhere. While it will always be difficult to see the little old couples at the temple and think to myself that "that should've been us," in the grand scheme of things, I know it is ok. Our time together isn't over. He is just absent for a season in my life.
On the way home I picked up some PF Chang's to enjoy when kids were quiet. That was nice. A quiet meal without tantrums and not having to wolf a meal down before the next family disaster is always appreciated.
I just miss him. Plain and simple. I know I always will and that is hard. It is not like a papercut that heals. Time does not "heal all wounds." The wounds will always be there. I know that it will simply take a lot of scar tissue to dull the pain. A lifetime of scar tissue.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Accidentally
It happened. Again. Somehow there are still friends of mine and Adam's that didn't know Adam died. You know, like friends that we haven't chatted with in a while, friends who aren't living close by and we've lost touch with a bit. I HATE THAT. It makes my heart hurt. Not only because I have to tell the story of what happened again, but also because it is...shocking to tell them. And shocking to me that they don't know. Ugh.
I always wonder how many people "should" know but that don't. I haven't done Christmas cards for a while, and it doesn't look like I'll be doing them this year. Best intentions don't always turn out how we'd like. I tried really hard to get a good picture of the boys and I think with a little photoshopping I might have one...maybe. But of course I wasn't in the picture. It is time for a family photo.
And then there's the followers of this blog, or followers of friend's blogs who stumble upon this blog. I have received the most interesting comments on here--there are lots of reasons I have "moderated" comments, and that is certainly one of the reasons. It is always interesting when I receive comments that ask me not to post their comments. And I respectful comply.
So, I guess I'll just say thank you. Thank you for those of you who still check up on us, even though I'm fairly scattered at times and it's not as though I'm a go-to for nice happy inspirational messages of the day. I hope to get there someday, but truth is this: Life is just difficult.
A friend of mine posted a quote the other day about how if we all dumped all of our trials in one big pile and we saw what others have to deal with, we'd probably run and grab ours back out of the pile. I don't know if I'd grab some of my trials back, but I'm certainly aware that there are many more trials out there that are more difficult than mine. I wouldn't grab those for sure. So for today, I am simply grateful to be alive and putting one foot in front of the other. That's all we can do somedays. Somedays, that's ok.
I always wonder how many people "should" know but that don't. I haven't done Christmas cards for a while, and it doesn't look like I'll be doing them this year. Best intentions don't always turn out how we'd like. I tried really hard to get a good picture of the boys and I think with a little photoshopping I might have one...maybe. But of course I wasn't in the picture. It is time for a family photo.
And then there's the followers of this blog, or followers of friend's blogs who stumble upon this blog. I have received the most interesting comments on here--there are lots of reasons I have "moderated" comments, and that is certainly one of the reasons. It is always interesting when I receive comments that ask me not to post their comments. And I respectful comply.
So, I guess I'll just say thank you. Thank you for those of you who still check up on us, even though I'm fairly scattered at times and it's not as though I'm a go-to for nice happy inspirational messages of the day. I hope to get there someday, but truth is this: Life is just difficult.
A friend of mine posted a quote the other day about how if we all dumped all of our trials in one big pile and we saw what others have to deal with, we'd probably run and grab ours back out of the pile. I don't know if I'd grab some of my trials back, but I'm certainly aware that there are many more trials out there that are more difficult than mine. I wouldn't grab those for sure. So for today, I am simply grateful to be alive and putting one foot in front of the other. That's all we can do somedays. Somedays, that's ok.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Triggers
I think triggers are one of the trickiest parts of grieving. They come out of nowhere usually. Driving home from church today, a couple of ladies who we know and love were in a car crash. I stumbled on the crash minutes after it happened, the first ambulance whizzed past me and came upon the scene. It was the realization that if I hadn't been chatting with a friend and had her return the crock pot she had borrowed from me...that very easily could've been me and the boys. I wanted so much to stop, but I could hear Adam telling me to continue on--I could see 5 other people who I knew who were already stopped and caring for them. I knew they were already in good hands and I couldn't have done anything. Not to mention the boys. I listened to their prayers that they uttered aloud as we carefully drove around the scene to go home. I prayed too. And I had flashbacks. And so did Justin. He talked about "the scream"-- what he remembers most about our crash, or the thing that he has told himself he remembers. Ugh. Trauma is not good for anyone.
I think the holidays don't help much with triggers. People always talk about "this great time of year." I think those are fairly unreasonable expectations to have, I realize now. For many, this is NOT a happy time of year. We focus more on Christ's birth at this time of year, but knowing how these "happy holidays" aren't always so happy, it reminds me that Christ isn't the reason for the season--He is the reason for every single day of my life. It is only through the power of His redemption that I will have the opportunity to be with Him again, my Heavenly Father again, but also with my sweetheart, and all those I love. The boys and I talked about this last night as part of their daddy story. We talked about the fact that we understand daily why Christ's resurrection is so important to us individually--because one of our loved ones whom we want to be with forever is on the other side, and that we can only get there with His help.
It is this reason that this Christmas is going to be a very different one for our family. I want my boys to feel more about what Christmas really feels like---what the love of Christ affords us each and every day.
And I'm trying to avoid as many triggers as possible. It is tough. How I miss my sweetie.
I think the holidays don't help much with triggers. People always talk about "this great time of year." I think those are fairly unreasonable expectations to have, I realize now. For many, this is NOT a happy time of year. We focus more on Christ's birth at this time of year, but knowing how these "happy holidays" aren't always so happy, it reminds me that Christ isn't the reason for the season--He is the reason for every single day of my life. It is only through the power of His redemption that I will have the opportunity to be with Him again, my Heavenly Father again, but also with my sweetheart, and all those I love. The boys and I talked about this last night as part of their daddy story. We talked about the fact that we understand daily why Christ's resurrection is so important to us individually--because one of our loved ones whom we want to be with forever is on the other side, and that we can only get there with His help.
It is this reason that this Christmas is going to be a very different one for our family. I want my boys to feel more about what Christmas really feels like---what the love of Christ affords us each and every day.
And I'm trying to avoid as many triggers as possible. It is tough. How I miss my sweetie.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Grief
What a mixture of emotions today. I tended to some important business that now I think I feel like I can breathe a bit. It's amazing all the junk that encompasses a person's death, all the nitty gritty details, paperwork, heartache and headache. I'm determined to make my death as painless on my descendants as possible since this has been a nightmare. Hopefully. I pray that others will do the same and learn from what I've gone through--even if it is to say, "I don't want THAT to be me someday!" I'm ok with that, if others kick things into gear and realize what needs to be organized and in order "just in case."
We had tithing settlement tonight. I reflected on what this means in our church, to once each year meet as a family and individually be able to tell our Bishop that we are (or aren't) paying a full and honest tithe. I think about the nature of how our church operates and I'm sure the fact that no one is paid in our church and that we are self sufficient is probably something members of other churches aren't familiar with. The fact that the leaders of our church also have jobs and are not paid by our church to speak or do all that they do. It really is remarkable, a lay ministry. It makes sense to me. Anyway, I digress a bit. I was thinking back to years in the past when we've had tithing settlement. The December before Adam passed, there wasn't a weekend (or weekday) that we could work out for all of us to go together to tithing settlement as a family (as is tradition) so I remember taking Justin and Spencer by myself. It felt odd at the time, since he was missing. But I realize now how little things like that were preparation for years to come. Strange the small ways I was given a bit of preparation for life as we know it now. I still got teary tonight though. Tears flow readily and daily these days.
And lastly for today, Adam's headstone. I had finalized everything about 10 weeks ago. At that time I was told that it would be about 4-7 weeks before everything would be carved and completed, another two or so after that before it would be placed. I realized this week that it had been quite a bit longer than that and I hadn't heard anything. I called to check up on it. I spoke with a man (whom I remember meeting) who told me that he would check on things and give me a call back. This man is a stone carver. He isn't the one who makes the designs and such, and I had been working with another woman who does more of the paperwork side of things. Minutes after I called, he called back and started apologizing that it has taken him so long. It hasn't really bothered me, so I told him it was no problem, that I just wanted to check up on things. He explained that his mother died and that he had gotten behind on work. It was interesting because for one of the first times--the first non-numb time maybe since Adam died--I felt such a deep sorrow for him and his loss. I could hear the pain in his voice, his sadness, and oh, how I wished I could do something, say something. But there just isn't anything one can say. Simply, "I'm so sorry for your loss." I told him to take his time, that the headstone wasn't a problem at all, truly. He explained that it was nearly completed. He said he has been working on getting the boys' handprints carved out just right, that he wanted them to be perfect. I knew he was speaking very honestly. And I told him to take his time. He said that the headstone would be done either tonight or tomorrow. Given the date on the calendar, I'm thinking it might get placed before our (what would've been) 12th wedding anniversary. If not then, I'm sure it'll be completed by Christmas. One more big piece of the puzzle complete I suppose.
I have felt sadness for others who have lost loved ones. Death is never easy. Here, I was speaking with a man whose profession is carving out headstones, and we talked about how death just isn't easy and nothing we can do to prepare ourselves ever is adequate. I'm grateful that my grief is moving away from my self-centeredness and able to more fully grieve with those who have other losses. Every loss is unique, every loss is different. I try to imagine how I will feel when my own parents pass away someday, and I just can't. Yes, their relationship is very different than the one I had with Adam, but it too will be difficult.
I've come to the conclusion that the only way I will "feel better" again is to love again. I'm not talking necessarily about remarriage or another relationship. If that happens, then so be it and I will take whatever Heavenly Father has in store for me with open arms. But I'm realizing that just like faith is the antithesis of fear, in my opinion, love is the antithesis of loss. Truly developing charity--the pure love of Christ for all people--is what brightens, strengthens, and gives us hope to carry on. Loving our friends and neighbors. Loving ourselves and being patient with ourselves. I'm finally starting to really understand what that means. Heavenly Father sure gives us such unique opportunities to learn. It is good to find the wisdom amidst the sadness, learning from the events in our lives.
We had tithing settlement tonight. I reflected on what this means in our church, to once each year meet as a family and individually be able to tell our Bishop that we are (or aren't) paying a full and honest tithe. I think about the nature of how our church operates and I'm sure the fact that no one is paid in our church and that we are self sufficient is probably something members of other churches aren't familiar with. The fact that the leaders of our church also have jobs and are not paid by our church to speak or do all that they do. It really is remarkable, a lay ministry. It makes sense to me. Anyway, I digress a bit. I was thinking back to years in the past when we've had tithing settlement. The December before Adam passed, there wasn't a weekend (or weekday) that we could work out for all of us to go together to tithing settlement as a family (as is tradition) so I remember taking Justin and Spencer by myself. It felt odd at the time, since he was missing. But I realize now how little things like that were preparation for years to come. Strange the small ways I was given a bit of preparation for life as we know it now. I still got teary tonight though. Tears flow readily and daily these days.
And lastly for today, Adam's headstone. I had finalized everything about 10 weeks ago. At that time I was told that it would be about 4-7 weeks before everything would be carved and completed, another two or so after that before it would be placed. I realized this week that it had been quite a bit longer than that and I hadn't heard anything. I called to check up on it. I spoke with a man (whom I remember meeting) who told me that he would check on things and give me a call back. This man is a stone carver. He isn't the one who makes the designs and such, and I had been working with another woman who does more of the paperwork side of things. Minutes after I called, he called back and started apologizing that it has taken him so long. It hasn't really bothered me, so I told him it was no problem, that I just wanted to check up on things. He explained that his mother died and that he had gotten behind on work. It was interesting because for one of the first times--the first non-numb time maybe since Adam died--I felt such a deep sorrow for him and his loss. I could hear the pain in his voice, his sadness, and oh, how I wished I could do something, say something. But there just isn't anything one can say. Simply, "I'm so sorry for your loss." I told him to take his time, that the headstone wasn't a problem at all, truly. He explained that it was nearly completed. He said he has been working on getting the boys' handprints carved out just right, that he wanted them to be perfect. I knew he was speaking very honestly. And I told him to take his time. He said that the headstone would be done either tonight or tomorrow. Given the date on the calendar, I'm thinking it might get placed before our (what would've been) 12th wedding anniversary. If not then, I'm sure it'll be completed by Christmas. One more big piece of the puzzle complete I suppose.
I have felt sadness for others who have lost loved ones. Death is never easy. Here, I was speaking with a man whose profession is carving out headstones, and we talked about how death just isn't easy and nothing we can do to prepare ourselves ever is adequate. I'm grateful that my grief is moving away from my self-centeredness and able to more fully grieve with those who have other losses. Every loss is unique, every loss is different. I try to imagine how I will feel when my own parents pass away someday, and I just can't. Yes, their relationship is very different than the one I had with Adam, but it too will be difficult.
I've come to the conclusion that the only way I will "feel better" again is to love again. I'm not talking necessarily about remarriage or another relationship. If that happens, then so be it and I will take whatever Heavenly Father has in store for me with open arms. But I'm realizing that just like faith is the antithesis of fear, in my opinion, love is the antithesis of loss. Truly developing charity--the pure love of Christ for all people--is what brightens, strengthens, and gives us hope to carry on. Loving our friends and neighbors. Loving ourselves and being patient with ourselves. I'm finally starting to really understand what that means. Heavenly Father sure gives us such unique opportunities to learn. It is good to find the wisdom amidst the sadness, learning from the events in our lives.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Sometimes I just wonder...
WHERE IS MY BRAIN!!??!!!
Ok, I don't think it's "sometimes." It is nearly every day!!!
I went to pay bills this morning and realized I'm missing a couple bills. It's like, I remember seeing them after I opened the mail, but I can't find them now. ANYWHERE. Gggrr. It seems I'm getting worse in the head these days. It's (of course) easy to blame my kids and wonder if they're throwing things away, but things like papers I don't think they'd throw away. It's other things like silverware, sippy cups, and other random objects I find Carson sticking in the trash. It's amazing how much I've fished out.
I did have to break down and buy a new kitchen garbage can. I (or one of my lovely children?) threw away the lid to our old one last week. Thankfully, I didn't like that trash can. Adam and I bought it when we were first married. You know, it's amazing how many things we have that we buy when we're first married that don't need replacing! Garbage cans are one of them! Wash them out periodically and they're good as new! It is sort of funny though the mentality when we're young and poor and think "someday we'll get something better so it doesn't matter that this bookshelf/garbage can/furniture is cheap" because 9 times out of 10, those items end up being around for a long time. Or forever! Oh, it is so silly!
I'm starting to wonder what other bills I haven't paid, by accident. We'll see when the Christmas lights get shut off, huh? :)
Ok, I don't think it's "sometimes." It is nearly every day!!!
I went to pay bills this morning and realized I'm missing a couple bills. It's like, I remember seeing them after I opened the mail, but I can't find them now. ANYWHERE. Gggrr. It seems I'm getting worse in the head these days. It's (of course) easy to blame my kids and wonder if they're throwing things away, but things like papers I don't think they'd throw away. It's other things like silverware, sippy cups, and other random objects I find Carson sticking in the trash. It's amazing how much I've fished out.
I did have to break down and buy a new kitchen garbage can. I (or one of my lovely children?) threw away the lid to our old one last week. Thankfully, I didn't like that trash can. Adam and I bought it when we were first married. You know, it's amazing how many things we have that we buy when we're first married that don't need replacing! Garbage cans are one of them! Wash them out periodically and they're good as new! It is sort of funny though the mentality when we're young and poor and think "someday we'll get something better so it doesn't matter that this bookshelf/garbage can/furniture is cheap" because 9 times out of 10, those items end up being around for a long time. Or forever! Oh, it is so silly!
I'm starting to wonder what other bills I haven't paid, by accident. We'll see when the Christmas lights get shut off, huh? :)
Saturday, December 3, 2011
"Handle"
"God doesn't give us what we can handle--He helps us handle what we have been given."
I heard this quote tonight (I'm not sure who said it) and it is my belief that this is a much more accurate description of our journey here on earth.
I heard this quote tonight (I'm not sure who said it) and it is my belief that this is a much more accurate description of our journey here on earth.
Friday, December 2, 2011
all the small things
Life is about the little things. Sometimes those little things add up to negative and sometimes positive. Today I focus on the positive (thankfully). Today's list of blessings:
A working washer
Bleach
Pine candle from Adam
Pacifier for Carson
A good nap
A funny dream in said nap, but one that solidified some decisions.
Mittens for a cold day
Rocking Carson in the rocker next to the Christmas tree
My dad's job
Fuzzy blanket given to me for Christmas last year
A quiet day
And since Carson is muttering random words next to me, here's his list (in order of his response):
Blanket
Juice cup
Hairbrush
Diaper
Snacks
Home
Candy
Justin
Snuggle
Pillows
Cartoons
Bathroom
Jumping
Ta-da
Toothbrush
Hmm. Guess it is time to get up from naptime.
A working washer
Bleach
Pine candle from Adam
Pacifier for Carson
A good nap
A funny dream in said nap, but one that solidified some decisions.
Mittens for a cold day
Rocking Carson in the rocker next to the Christmas tree
My dad's job
Fuzzy blanket given to me for Christmas last year
A quiet day
And since Carson is muttering random words next to me, here's his list (in order of his response):
Blanket
Juice cup
Hairbrush
Diaper
Snacks
Home
Candy
Justin
Snuggle
Pillows
Cartoons
Bathroom
Jumping
Ta-da
Toothbrush
Hmm. Guess it is time to get up from naptime.