Yes,I know. It's been awhile. Again. So I'm not all that adept at this daily blog thing. Sue me. I'm here now and that's all that counts,right?
Here. I am here. But where is THAT exactly?
Here is December 1,2010. Here is the last thirty days of the year. Perhaps more profoundly......here is the last thirty days of the first decade of this century. I know. You never really thought about it like that,did you? Me either.
But it is. And I am thinking about it now. And thanks to reading this-so are you.
So let me ask you.....if this is the end of the decade......what do you see if you close your eyes and reflect on that decade? What have you accomplished? Where did you fall short of your expectations? Did you achieve the goals you had set for yourself? Are you where you thought you would be?
Ten years ago when you imagined your life "ten years from now" you plotted a course in your mind. A roadmap showing the ever important "You Are Here" spot, the destination you had chosen and the rest stops along the way. Did you stick to your route? Did you change course once your trip began and take a more scenic route,still arriving at your destination? Are you still en route? Were you impatient-choosing to drive straight through no matter how exhausted the non-stop trip might make you? Or,like me....did you somehow hit every speed bump and pothole in existence making it necessary to not only slow your pace but forcing you to take detours you couldn't find on your map? Did you become hopelessly lost?
My journey from there to here is nothing like the trip I had planned. Somewhere between starting my car and backing out of the driveway my map blew out the window and away with the wind. There I was....embarking on a voyage of epic proportions with no map, no gps and sadly,no sense of direction. To say I got "turned around" more than once would be to put it mildly.
Ten years. To some it sounds like a brief moment, to others a lifetime. To me-I know that a lifetime can happen in the blink of an eye that makes up those ten years. Ten years can bring an abundance of joy,immeasurable pleasure and more blessings than a single person could deserve. Ten years can bring an excruciating pain most people cannot fathom and many would never survive. Ten years can shatter who you thought you were and show you who you truly have become.
In this decade I have experienced two marriages,one divorce and the birth of four children. (Oddly enough this also means I have officially given birth in each of the last three decades!!) I have lost a cousin,an uncle,two grandmothers,watched my husband's grandfather slip away and said goodbye to two of my own babies. I spent two years fighting to bring home two of my children when they were kidnapped by their father and have spent the three years since watching them blossom into amazing young ladies. I witnessed the transition of two of my sons from little boys to young men to adults and am still in awe of their greatness. In this decade I have forged unbreakable bonds with some of the most amazing women you will ever meet ( BLM's I love you all) and for the first time in my life established a relationship with the only father I have ever known.I watched two of my sisters get married and became an aunt to six more nieces and nephews (to add to the other eight I already had.) I watched helplessly as my son had his heart truly broken (shattered is more like it) for the first time and witnessed his journey back to himself afterward with more pride than I can describe.
This decade has taken me to some of my highest moments and seen me fall into the abysmal grief that follows losing a child. This decade has demolished the image of who I thought I was and altered the course of who I imagined I would be. I have discovered that while ten years ago I believed myself to be a strong-willed and persevering kind of person I now know that I am strong beyond even my own realization and can survive anything because ,quite frankly-I have.
Where has the last ten years taken you? And where will you go in the next ten?
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Ask Miss Jeanie
This is a blog I posted a couple years ago on MySpace and then reposted on FB. But I thought it was worth reposting because it happens to be one of my favorites. Enjoy!!
Ok-I am sure most of you (if not all) have at least browsed those talk shows where the distressed mothers sit on stage next to the host sobbing uncontrollably in obvious pain over the latest stunt pulled by their angelic cherub of a child. They just cannot understand why precious is banging everything with a pair of boxers, having more than one child before graduating (if they ever make it that far) and dressing like something out of a low budget pretend porno from late night cable. Mommy doesn't know why precious wants to hurt her this way , smoke drugs or break curfew every night. Boo-hoo-hoo. Well….the talk show host usually parades the little angels out on stage and then corrals them into some quick scare the bejesus out of you camp/prison for a peek at what their future holds if they don't straighten up. Miraculously they do and they all ride off into the white picket fence sunset.
RIGHT!!!!
Seriously…I enjoy laughing at the stupidity of these shows as much as the next sane person. But enough is enough. I just can't take another episode of mommy sitting there asking her 12 year old crack whore wanna be why she dresses so skanky and feels the need to wear skirts that are little more than a waistband and zipper or tops that look like they belong on a Barbie doll. So…I have decided to begin my own parenting column. I have answers to all those pesky questions parents have been asking for years. Here is a sampling:
1. Miss Jeanie how can I get my 13 year old daughter to dress more appropriately and stop wearing clothes from "Hookers –R-Us"?? Signed-mom of a future ho
Dear ho's momma,
STOP BUYING THEM!!! Seriously people….how hard is this one? Really…..where does little precious get her clothes? At 13 she doesn't have a job so my guess is that mommy is buying them for her. Not sure if what you're buying is borderline skankville??? Here's a clue….if precious pulls you into the lingerie department or the local adult video store nothing good can come of it! Try the children's department instead….
2. Miss Jeanie my 12 year old is rude and disrespectful. She throws a fit if she doesn't get what she wants and calls me a bitch and has even slapped me a couple times. I have tried grounding her but it just doesn't work. I don't know what to do. Signed-scared in my own home.
Dear wimpy,
I have to ask a question here first. Does she still have teeth and the ability to stand? If so,why??? BEAT HER!! Badly…..until there is bloodshed. Now,I know what you are thinking. She will call the police and report me. Trust me when I tell you that if you beat her properly not only will she not call the police (she will be physically unable to) but she will begin acting appropriately faster than you can say "problem solved". I am completely amazed that grounding hasn't worked, afterall being sent to your room equipped with your dvd player,flatscreen tv,Ipod,cell phone,laptop and every video game known to man would be torture for any pre-teen girl. Here's an idea and this is just off the top of my head……strip the room of everything but the mattress, a pillow, one blanket and whatever outfit you pick out for her to wear the next day (and for crying out loud refer back to item one before picking said outfit). Ground her for a period of not less than two weeks and with the exception of meals and school this means not leaving her room (and no-phones of any kind are not allowed). My guess is the grounding will work. Oh,and as for the police thing…I really wouldn't worry about that. Simply offer to call them for her as you are beating the little angel for calling you out and remind her that by the time they arrest you the charge will be a little more serious than simple child abuse. As a matter of fact put the police on speed dial and let her know just which number to push to reach them.
3. Miss Jeanie my 15 year old yells at me anytime I tell her no and says I am ruining her life. She wants to date an older boy and stay over at his house on weekends. She thinks I am too strict and says I need to get a grip on the times. She breaks her curfew and tells me she hates me when I ask her to respect the rules. What should I do? Signed-feels like I have lost my best friend.
Dear Clueless-
Here is the number one mistake parents make. You have not lost your best friend…she is not now nor has she ever been your friend of any kind and the sooner you understand that the better. She is your child. PERIOD. Next time she says she hates you simply smile and say thank you. That means you are doing your job. If she tells you you are ruining her life again acknowledge positively stating that this is in fact your main goal in life and you are happy to hear you are achieving it with minimal exertion. Explain to angel dear that you are not here to be her friend and do not give a rat's ass if she likes you. Make no mistake she will respect you or else. As for the curfew issue-if we know she breaks it every time she goes out why do we still allow her to go out? Just a question. Afraid she will sneak out if you say no? Bars on the windows and an alarm on the doors will take care of that in no time at all. Now….I need you to repeat after me. There are three phrases you need to learn in dealing with your precious princess……
1. NO
2. HELL NO
3. OH HELL NO (This one involves hand gestures and neck movements so practice before using).
Those three phrases need to be used forcefully and frequently by you when dealing with little miss doesn't have a clue. Use phrase one in answer to any utterance from her beginning with "Can I….?" Now,since we are still trying to teach good manners here at least let her finish her sentence while pretending to actually listen and contemplate allowing her to have her wish. Then firmly assert yourself and use the phrase. Be prepared for yelling. Smile and walk away. Any request involving members of the opposite sex should be answered in the same fashion using the second phrase. Here is where the recognition of your skill at life ruining will be announced. Again,smile and walk away. Pretend not to hear her rantings. Finally,when any request involving overnight visits ANYWHERE arise (trust me she is not staying at Susie's house ) simply sigh, prepare your neck and hand and proceed with phrase three. Do not allow any hesitation or the effectiveness will be lost.
Now…these are just a few of my favorite parenting complaints. There are so many more. So,please feel free to write to me for advice anytime and I will be more than happy to guide you in your parenting journey. Just remember – there are no parenting experts. There are only people who think they are experts. I know I am not only nowhere near being an expert,but have been repeatedly nominated for messed up parent of the year.
Enjoy! And keep in mind….they all leave home eventually.
Ok-I am sure most of you (if not all) have at least browsed those talk shows where the distressed mothers sit on stage next to the host sobbing uncontrollably in obvious pain over the latest stunt pulled by their angelic cherub of a child. They just cannot understand why precious is banging everything with a pair of boxers, having more than one child before graduating (if they ever make it that far) and dressing like something out of a low budget pretend porno from late night cable. Mommy doesn't know why precious wants to hurt her this way , smoke drugs or break curfew every night. Boo-hoo-hoo. Well….the talk show host usually parades the little angels out on stage and then corrals them into some quick scare the bejesus out of you camp/prison for a peek at what their future holds if they don't straighten up. Miraculously they do and they all ride off into the white picket fence sunset.
RIGHT!!!!
Seriously…I enjoy laughing at the stupidity of these shows as much as the next sane person. But enough is enough. I just can't take another episode of mommy sitting there asking her 12 year old crack whore wanna be why she dresses so skanky and feels the need to wear skirts that are little more than a waistband and zipper or tops that look like they belong on a Barbie doll. So…I have decided to begin my own parenting column. I have answers to all those pesky questions parents have been asking for years. Here is a sampling:
1. Miss Jeanie how can I get my 13 year old daughter to dress more appropriately and stop wearing clothes from "Hookers –R-Us"?? Signed-mom of a future ho
Dear ho's momma,
STOP BUYING THEM!!! Seriously people….how hard is this one? Really…..where does little precious get her clothes? At 13 she doesn't have a job so my guess is that mommy is buying them for her. Not sure if what you're buying is borderline skankville??? Here's a clue….if precious pulls you into the lingerie department or the local adult video store nothing good can come of it! Try the children's department instead….
2. Miss Jeanie my 12 year old is rude and disrespectful. She throws a fit if she doesn't get what she wants and calls me a bitch and has even slapped me a couple times. I have tried grounding her but it just doesn't work. I don't know what to do. Signed-scared in my own home.
Dear wimpy,
I have to ask a question here first. Does she still have teeth and the ability to stand? If so,why??? BEAT HER!! Badly…..until there is bloodshed. Now,I know what you are thinking. She will call the police and report me. Trust me when I tell you that if you beat her properly not only will she not call the police (she will be physically unable to) but she will begin acting appropriately faster than you can say "problem solved". I am completely amazed that grounding hasn't worked, afterall being sent to your room equipped with your dvd player,flatscreen tv,Ipod,cell phone,laptop and every video game known to man would be torture for any pre-teen girl. Here's an idea and this is just off the top of my head……strip the room of everything but the mattress, a pillow, one blanket and whatever outfit you pick out for her to wear the next day (and for crying out loud refer back to item one before picking said outfit). Ground her for a period of not less than two weeks and with the exception of meals and school this means not leaving her room (and no-phones of any kind are not allowed). My guess is the grounding will work. Oh,and as for the police thing…I really wouldn't worry about that. Simply offer to call them for her as you are beating the little angel for calling you out and remind her that by the time they arrest you the charge will be a little more serious than simple child abuse. As a matter of fact put the police on speed dial and let her know just which number to push to reach them.
3. Miss Jeanie my 15 year old yells at me anytime I tell her no and says I am ruining her life. She wants to date an older boy and stay over at his house on weekends. She thinks I am too strict and says I need to get a grip on the times. She breaks her curfew and tells me she hates me when I ask her to respect the rules. What should I do? Signed-feels like I have lost my best friend.
Dear Clueless-
Here is the number one mistake parents make. You have not lost your best friend…she is not now nor has she ever been your friend of any kind and the sooner you understand that the better. She is your child. PERIOD. Next time she says she hates you simply smile and say thank you. That means you are doing your job. If she tells you you are ruining her life again acknowledge positively stating that this is in fact your main goal in life and you are happy to hear you are achieving it with minimal exertion. Explain to angel dear that you are not here to be her friend and do not give a rat's ass if she likes you. Make no mistake she will respect you or else. As for the curfew issue-if we know she breaks it every time she goes out why do we still allow her to go out? Just a question. Afraid she will sneak out if you say no? Bars on the windows and an alarm on the doors will take care of that in no time at all. Now….I need you to repeat after me. There are three phrases you need to learn in dealing with your precious princess……
1. NO
2. HELL NO
3. OH HELL NO (This one involves hand gestures and neck movements so practice before using).
Those three phrases need to be used forcefully and frequently by you when dealing with little miss doesn't have a clue. Use phrase one in answer to any utterance from her beginning with "Can I….?" Now,since we are still trying to teach good manners here at least let her finish her sentence while pretending to actually listen and contemplate allowing her to have her wish. Then firmly assert yourself and use the phrase. Be prepared for yelling. Smile and walk away. Any request involving members of the opposite sex should be answered in the same fashion using the second phrase. Here is where the recognition of your skill at life ruining will be announced. Again,smile and walk away. Pretend not to hear her rantings. Finally,when any request involving overnight visits ANYWHERE arise (trust me she is not staying at Susie's house ) simply sigh, prepare your neck and hand and proceed with phrase three. Do not allow any hesitation or the effectiveness will be lost.
Now…these are just a few of my favorite parenting complaints. There are so many more. So,please feel free to write to me for advice anytime and I will be more than happy to guide you in your parenting journey. Just remember – there are no parenting experts. There are only people who think they are experts. I know I am not only nowhere near being an expert,but have been repeatedly nominated for messed up parent of the year.
Enjoy! And keep in mind….they all leave home eventually.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Split Ends
i know
you think i cry
too often
for
too long
over
too little
it isn't you
or anything you've done
it's just that
sometimes
when i cry
i go back
and i lose everything
i ever lost....again
i cry for my dead dog
lost friends
grandma
and gene
it isn't you
it's just my beginnings
crashing into my endings
it's Jaron's voice
and Ricky's face
when they say
"mommy,we love you"
March 3,1996
you think i cry
too often
for
too long
over
too little
it isn't you
or anything you've done
it's just that
sometimes
when i cry
i go back
and i lose everything
i ever lost....again
i cry for my dead dog
lost friends
grandma
and gene
it isn't you
it's just my beginnings
crashing into my endings
it's Jaron's voice
and Ricky's face
when they say
"mommy,we love you"
March 3,1996
Crybaby
According to one of my 475 followers this Blog thing is supposed to be a daily thing. Who knew. (Yes,I know there are only actually two people following my blog but 475 sounds way better....so I'm going with that) So I suppose I will have to start taking this "requirement" a little more seriously. With that in mind.....here are a few things I have written on the backs of whatever source of paper I could get my hands on at various times and locations. In the car waiting for someone after practice, in the lobby of the YMCA or doctor's office,etc. Anywhere and everywhere. Some are old, some are new. All are from me. And from time to time I will even throw in one of my poems. Hope you enjoy.........
(written Saturday,November 6,2010 in the lobby of the YMCA waiting for Lily's dance class to end)
I cried. No great revelation or surprise. I cry. It's what I do. I'm a crier. Not at the drop of a hot but certainly more easily and often than I would like.
So-I cried.
I cried for my friend who's son was senselessly shot and killed. I cried for myself because with his death I relived Chloe and Zoe's.
I cried for the woman on Dr. Phil (don't judge me!) who got to openly confront and espew her heart to the cheating coward she was married to. Because I've been there,too..
And then....I cried for myself.
For the goals I haven't achieved.
For the dreams I haven't realized.
For the pain I have endured,the losses I have survived and for the sorrow I carry.
I cried for missing the chance to raise my children who were taken much too soon.
I cried for the years I didn't get to spend with the most amazing grandmother who ever lived.
I cried for the father I will never meet.
I cried for the loss of the life I thought I would have.
And then...I sobbed.
I sobbed for the blessings. Blessings God has given me in spite of my flaws and undeserving soul.
I sobbed for the blessings of having a mother who would and has walked through fire for me.
I sobbed for the blessings of having been given six of the most incredible,amazingly beautiful children a mother could ever ask for.
I sobbed for the blessings of having experienced the all-encompassing unconditional love of a phenomenal man at least once in my life when so many never truly have.
I sobbed for the blessings of being able to stand, walk and experience LIFE on a daily basis.
I sobbed for the blessings of all of my senses being intact so that I am able to fully enjoy the sights,sounds,smells and flavors of this world that so many take for granted.
I sobbed......for the blessings of being......me.
(written Saturday,November 6,2010 in the lobby of the YMCA waiting for Lily's dance class to end)
I cried. No great revelation or surprise. I cry. It's what I do. I'm a crier. Not at the drop of a hot but certainly more easily and often than I would like.
So-I cried.
I cried for my friend who's son was senselessly shot and killed. I cried for myself because with his death I relived Chloe and Zoe's.
I cried for the woman on Dr. Phil (don't judge me!) who got to openly confront and espew her heart to the cheating coward she was married to. Because I've been there,too..
And then....I cried for myself.
For the goals I haven't achieved.
For the dreams I haven't realized.
For the pain I have endured,the losses I have survived and for the sorrow I carry.
I cried for missing the chance to raise my children who were taken much too soon.
I cried for the years I didn't get to spend with the most amazing grandmother who ever lived.
I cried for the father I will never meet.
I cried for the loss of the life I thought I would have.
And then...I sobbed.
I sobbed for the blessings. Blessings God has given me in spite of my flaws and undeserving soul.
I sobbed for the blessings of having a mother who would and has walked through fire for me.
I sobbed for the blessings of having been given six of the most incredible,amazingly beautiful children a mother could ever ask for.
I sobbed for the blessings of having experienced the all-encompassing unconditional love of a phenomenal man at least once in my life when so many never truly have.
I sobbed for the blessings of being able to stand, walk and experience LIFE on a daily basis.
I sobbed for the blessings of all of my senses being intact so that I am able to fully enjoy the sights,sounds,smells and flavors of this world that so many take for granted.
I sobbed......for the blessings of being......me.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Cleaning House
So I cleaned my house this past week. The entire house. Every room. Every shelf. Every closet.
Ah...yes....the closets.
I can't tell you just how many trash bags full of no longer needed items there were but the people at Goodwill were only too happy to remove them from my sadly overwhelmed trunk. No doubt some of those items will become someone else's treasure very soon and that makes me feel good inside. There were household items, clothes , linens, toys ,books and even a bike and speakers. Most were more than easy to bag up and hand off to the next person. Most. Not all. Some were harder to part with. Some were almost impossible to even take out of the closet to begin with. Some were like parting with a loved one. Because in some sense that is exactly what I was doing.
Cleaning out closets has never been especially difficult for me. It's simple,really. I take a bag and grab anything and everything that hasn't seen daylight in the last 2 or 3 months. All those "as soon as I lose 10 pounds it'll fit" items and the "someday I'll be able to wear that again" pieces are the first to go because let's be honest....I'll just go shopping at some point and replace them anyway so it isn't like I will miss them at all. And then there are the items that were hanging in the center of my closet.This section of clothing is different. This section is filled with more than just clothes. It's filled with shattered hopes and dreams and broken "what if's".
In the center of my closet hung the clothes I bought one day long ago. It seems at times as if it were a lifetime ago, maybe even someone else's lifetime. But it wasn't. It was mine. It still is. These were the clothes that were going to "grow with me" as my belly continued to expand - proof of the two tiny lives that were growing within. These were the clothes that would carry my through my nine months and then remain a part of my "after" wardrobe while I worked to be comfortable, care for my two new tiny people and attempted to hide the damage from all those months of "eating for three"! These are the clothes that have reminded me every day for three years that my belly never fully expanded, that those two tiny lives never finished growing and that the "damage" was never fully realized. At least not physically. Not as I had planned. Not at all. Yet these were the clothes I couldn't bring myself to part with.
Until now.
I'm not sure why I couldn't part with them before. And I'm not really sure why I was able to this time. That's the thing about losing a child (or children)......nothing you think, feel or do makes any sense or follows any logical thought pattern to anyone other than another parent who has lost a child. There are no reasonable explanations for why we hold onto the things we do or why we don't cling to others. There is no sense in when and where we lose control of our emotions or how we are able to maintain it. Our actions don't make sense. Quite simply-our lives no longer make sense. Because losing a child DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
And so, I cleaned my house. All of it. Every closet. And I said goodbye,again......because with every turn of every corner in the journey we take after losing a child it seems there is another something to say to goodbye to that takes us back to the day we said our ultimate,our hardest,our most painful goodbye.
Ah...yes....the closets.
I can't tell you just how many trash bags full of no longer needed items there were but the people at Goodwill were only too happy to remove them from my sadly overwhelmed trunk. No doubt some of those items will become someone else's treasure very soon and that makes me feel good inside. There were household items, clothes , linens, toys ,books and even a bike and speakers. Most were more than easy to bag up and hand off to the next person. Most. Not all. Some were harder to part with. Some were almost impossible to even take out of the closet to begin with. Some were like parting with a loved one. Because in some sense that is exactly what I was doing.
Cleaning out closets has never been especially difficult for me. It's simple,really. I take a bag and grab anything and everything that hasn't seen daylight in the last 2 or 3 months. All those "as soon as I lose 10 pounds it'll fit" items and the "someday I'll be able to wear that again" pieces are the first to go because let's be honest....I'll just go shopping at some point and replace them anyway so it isn't like I will miss them at all. And then there are the items that were hanging in the center of my closet.This section of clothing is different. This section is filled with more than just clothes. It's filled with shattered hopes and dreams and broken "what if's".
In the center of my closet hung the clothes I bought one day long ago. It seems at times as if it were a lifetime ago, maybe even someone else's lifetime. But it wasn't. It was mine. It still is. These were the clothes that were going to "grow with me" as my belly continued to expand - proof of the two tiny lives that were growing within. These were the clothes that would carry my through my nine months and then remain a part of my "after" wardrobe while I worked to be comfortable, care for my two new tiny people and attempted to hide the damage from all those months of "eating for three"! These are the clothes that have reminded me every day for three years that my belly never fully expanded, that those two tiny lives never finished growing and that the "damage" was never fully realized. At least not physically. Not as I had planned. Not at all. Yet these were the clothes I couldn't bring myself to part with.
Until now.
I'm not sure why I couldn't part with them before. And I'm not really sure why I was able to this time. That's the thing about losing a child (or children)......nothing you think, feel or do makes any sense or follows any logical thought pattern to anyone other than another parent who has lost a child. There are no reasonable explanations for why we hold onto the things we do or why we don't cling to others. There is no sense in when and where we lose control of our emotions or how we are able to maintain it. Our actions don't make sense. Quite simply-our lives no longer make sense. Because losing a child DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
And so, I cleaned my house. All of it. Every closet. And I said goodbye,again......because with every turn of every corner in the journey we take after losing a child it seems there is another something to say to goodbye to that takes us back to the day we said our ultimate,our hardest,our most painful goodbye.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Detour
I made a wrong turn. Somewhere between posting the "30 days" assignments and contemplating how much of my everyday chaos to share there was a collision of epic proportions. My psyche is still in the trauma center and the prognosis is shaky at best.
Life happens....in this house it happens a lot. Sometimes so much that I lose days without even realizing any time has past. There are multiple lunches to pack each morning, entirely too much estrogen to contend with in the morning school preparation schedule and more social calendar entries than most communities ever see. It's healthy for them. It makes me feel good to know they are busy. And it wears me out.
Tonight my 13 year old realized that she has a little too much on her plate for Mondays. So she very maturely says to me- Mom, I think I need to look at my schedule and make a decision between cheerleading and dance class. It's just too much trying to do both on the same day. I was almost proud. Almost because in the next breath she points out that she could transfer out of her current dance class and into one that meets right after school on Mondays. This would give her plenty of time in between activities. The hitch? This class requires the dancers to add a second dance class of another genre but it's ok mom cuz I can do the second class on Tuesdays since I don't have anything on Tuesdays. So...it's perfect. See?
Perfect. Except for the additional costume fees, class tuition and the fact that I already have 4 other Tuesday activities divided between your two younger sisters to keep up with. But hey, you don't have anything so sure---let's add something.Seriously?
See....detoured. Again. Because this entry isn't about dance class or kids' activities. It's about me. My brain. My exhaustion. My frustration. With everything and everyone. Maybe it's because winter is around the corner and I miss the sunshine desperately in winter. Maybe it's because the kids are growing up so incredibly fast and I realize a little more each day that there are two little ones missing and that there will never be another little one in this house. Maybe it's because I am lonely. In my own home. In my own skin. In my marriage. In general. Yes,I have four amazing children who still live at home. Yes, I talk to my mother everyday. Yes, I have the two most incredible grown sons a mother could ever hope to have. But I am lonely. Almost always.
So I got detoured. Detoured from my daily posts geared toward reflecting on how the loss of my children has changed me. Detoured from taking better care of myself. Detoured from functioning in general.
Does anyone have a map?
Life happens....in this house it happens a lot. Sometimes so much that I lose days without even realizing any time has past. There are multiple lunches to pack each morning, entirely too much estrogen to contend with in the morning school preparation schedule and more social calendar entries than most communities ever see. It's healthy for them. It makes me feel good to know they are busy. And it wears me out.
Tonight my 13 year old realized that she has a little too much on her plate for Mondays. So she very maturely says to me- Mom, I think I need to look at my schedule and make a decision between cheerleading and dance class. It's just too much trying to do both on the same day. I was almost proud. Almost because in the next breath she points out that she could transfer out of her current dance class and into one that meets right after school on Mondays. This would give her plenty of time in between activities. The hitch? This class requires the dancers to add a second dance class of another genre but it's ok mom cuz I can do the second class on Tuesdays since I don't have anything on Tuesdays. So...it's perfect. See?
Perfect. Except for the additional costume fees, class tuition and the fact that I already have 4 other Tuesday activities divided between your two younger sisters to keep up with. But hey, you don't have anything so sure---let's add something.Seriously?
See....detoured. Again. Because this entry isn't about dance class or kids' activities. It's about me. My brain. My exhaustion. My frustration. With everything and everyone. Maybe it's because winter is around the corner and I miss the sunshine desperately in winter. Maybe it's because the kids are growing up so incredibly fast and I realize a little more each day that there are two little ones missing and that there will never be another little one in this house. Maybe it's because I am lonely. In my own home. In my own skin. In my marriage. In general. Yes,I have four amazing children who still live at home. Yes, I talk to my mother everyday. Yes, I have the two most incredible grown sons a mother could ever hope to have. But I am lonely. Almost always.
So I got detoured. Detoured from my daily posts geared toward reflecting on how the loss of my children has changed me. Detoured from taking better care of myself. Detoured from functioning in general.
Does anyone have a map?
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
My Forever Child
Ok,so I know I am a little behind....days actually. Sue me later. Not that there would be much but the process might break up the monotony of my days!!
Things have been chaotic here (imagine that) so I promise to catch you all up on that as well as catch up on the 30 days of posts asap. But right now....I wanted to share something with you.
My Forever Child is an awesome site....they make some of the most beautiful things for memorializing our babies. And they are having a BIG giveaway in honor of October 15th. So-check it out....enter....and while you're there take a look at the site!!
~~Love you all!
http://sufficientgrace-kelly.blogspot.com/2010/10/huge-my-forever-child-giveaway.html
Things have been chaotic here (imagine that) so I promise to catch you all up on that as well as catch up on the 30 days of posts asap. But right now....I wanted to share something with you.
My Forever Child is an awesome site....they make some of the most beautiful things for memorializing our babies. And they are having a BIG giveaway in honor of October 15th. So-check it out....enter....and while you're there take a look at the site!!
~~Love you all!
http://sufficientgrace-kelly.blogspot.com/2010/10/huge-my-forever-child-giveaway.html
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Day 9
So I'm supposed to choose a photo I have taken since losing my girls. Yeah. Good luck with that one. You obviously have no idea just how many pictures I take. Of everything. Of nothing. So choosing just one is a bit of an undertaking. Let's see......
Ok. I am choosing this one. And here is why.
Dragonflies have become a symbol for my daughters. More than a symbol really. A sign. They have become the link between me and my angels. Where they are so are Chloe and Zoe.
My mother likes to say that my grandmother-whom I was intensely close to-is watching over my girls waiting to give them back to me when I get to Heaven. Just before my husband's grandfather passed away on Father's Day this year he had told me that when he made it to Heaven he would give Chloe and Zoe a kiss for me. My mom kind of laughed a little and said "You know...I think that is beautiful. But I hate to tell him I don't think your grandmother is giving them up to anyone!!! "
So now to the picture......while home visiting in Ohio this summer I took the kids to the local museum. There is an old house on the property which my grandmother worked in when she was 13. (The same age as my oldest daughter who shares her middle name by the way). Walking through that house with my kids it was surreal. I could feel my grandma walking the halls, doing her work and sitting in the old kitchen eating her lunch. Out back is a flower and herb garden called The Children's Garden. There are wonderful things there to teach kids about flowers and such. And there is a brick path that winds all the way through and around the entire garden. At one point we looked down and noticed a pattern in the brick walk in a different color brick. It was a dragonfly. There are two. Just two. In the entire path. And they are at the point of the path that is overlooked by the windows of the dance hall in that old house which is where my grandmother did most of her work for the family. Coincidence? Or was it a message from my daughters and my grandmother letting me know, letting us all know ....they were there. They are always there. And they are being cared for while they wait.
Ok. I am choosing this one. And here is why.
Dragonflies have become a symbol for my daughters. More than a symbol really. A sign. They have become the link between me and my angels. Where they are so are Chloe and Zoe.
My mother likes to say that my grandmother-whom I was intensely close to-is watching over my girls waiting to give them back to me when I get to Heaven. Just before my husband's grandfather passed away on Father's Day this year he had told me that when he made it to Heaven he would give Chloe and Zoe a kiss for me. My mom kind of laughed a little and said "You know...I think that is beautiful. But I hate to tell him I don't think your grandmother is giving them up to anyone!!! "
So now to the picture......while home visiting in Ohio this summer I took the kids to the local museum. There is an old house on the property which my grandmother worked in when she was 13. (The same age as my oldest daughter who shares her middle name by the way). Walking through that house with my kids it was surreal. I could feel my grandma walking the halls, doing her work and sitting in the old kitchen eating her lunch. Out back is a flower and herb garden called The Children's Garden. There are wonderful things there to teach kids about flowers and such. And there is a brick path that winds all the way through and around the entire garden. At one point we looked down and noticed a pattern in the brick walk in a different color brick. It was a dragonfly. There are two. Just two. In the entire path. And they are at the point of the path that is overlooked by the windows of the dance hall in that old house which is where my grandmother did most of her work for the family. Coincidence? Or was it a message from my daughters and my grandmother letting me know, letting us all know ....they were there. They are always there. And they are being cared for while they wait.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Day 8 of 30......
This one is easy. This one I knew the moment I got the list for the 30 days of post. There is no question, no choosing. It just ...... is.
To the naked eye this picture is beautiful. Peaceful. Precious. It is perfect. And it is. All of those things. But to my eyes....it is incredibly sad. It invokes deep feelings of pain and devastation. And it sends me back to "that time" of my life. (As if this time has erased that one.....)
August 8,2007. We had played outside at the park all day. Enjoying the sunshine and warm air. Reveling in the slight breeze that would come at just the right moments. And I imagined that the next summer I would be standing here again....in this spot.....listening again to the laughter of my children. Only then I would be pushing a stroller. A double one. With two little girls who would soon enough join their siblings in the ritual of climbing up the sliding board instead of sliding down it and squealing in delight at their accomplishment.
My baby boy was not quite two years old yet. He had played hard all day. And he had missed that all important nap. He was exhausted. And so, pacifier and all...he had fallen asleep in the tub while I was bathing him. I remember wrapping him in his towel and lying him across my bed. And staring. Drinking in my little boy who in a matter of months would no longer be "the baby" of the family. Wondering how he would handle relinquishing that title. And thinking I was the luckiest women ever.
One week changed that. One week completely redesigned the meaning and emotion of this picture. One week later my daughters died as I slept in that same bed. That picture, of my beautiful, sleeping boy was the last picture I took of any of my children. Until the next picture...which was of my beautiful,sleeping angels.
To the naked eye this picture is beautiful. Peaceful. Precious. It is perfect. And it is. All of those things. But to my eyes....it is incredibly sad. It invokes deep feelings of pain and devastation. And it sends me back to "that time" of my life. (As if this time has erased that one.....)
August 8,2007. We had played outside at the park all day. Enjoying the sunshine and warm air. Reveling in the slight breeze that would come at just the right moments. And I imagined that the next summer I would be standing here again....in this spot.....listening again to the laughter of my children. Only then I would be pushing a stroller. A double one. With two little girls who would soon enough join their siblings in the ritual of climbing up the sliding board instead of sliding down it and squealing in delight at their accomplishment.
My baby boy was not quite two years old yet. He had played hard all day. And he had missed that all important nap. He was exhausted. And so, pacifier and all...he had fallen asleep in the tub while I was bathing him. I remember wrapping him in his towel and lying him across my bed. And staring. Drinking in my little boy who in a matter of months would no longer be "the baby" of the family. Wondering how he would handle relinquishing that title. And thinking I was the luckiest women ever.
One week changed that. One week completely redesigned the meaning and emotion of this picture. One week later my daughters died as I slept in that same bed. That picture, of my beautiful, sleeping boy was the last picture I took of any of my children. Until the next picture...which was of my beautiful,sleeping angels.
Out of the mouth of babes.......
Extra post today.....
So Lily A.K.A. Princess Diva says to me..."Mommy,I want you to be pregnant again. And I want you to have two baby girls again so I can have two baby sisters. I mean,I am almost 7 years old now mommy so I can help take care of them when you need to rest ya know.And mommy.......this time I want you to actually bring them home with you."
And there it is. The proverbial slap that renders you speechless and knocks the breath from your lungs. Just when you think you are having a good day,week,month,year.....you are suddenly shocked right back into your dark place.
Then there is the comment from the younger sibling which pulls you back into the sunshine,......"Um,no way mom. It better be two baby brothers cuz I don't want no more sisters. Enough girls already."
Ya just gotta love their innocence and honesty.
So Lily A.K.A. Princess Diva says to me..."Mommy,I want you to be pregnant again. And I want you to have two baby girls again so I can have two baby sisters. I mean,I am almost 7 years old now mommy so I can help take care of them when you need to rest ya know.And mommy.......this time I want you to actually bring them home with you."
And there it is. The proverbial slap that renders you speechless and knocks the breath from your lungs. Just when you think you are having a good day,week,month,year.....you are suddenly shocked right back into your dark place.
Then there is the comment from the younger sibling which pulls you back into the sunshine,......"Um,no way mom. It better be two baby brothers cuz I don't want no more sisters. Enough girls already."
Ya just gotta love their innocence and honesty.
A picture that makes you happy......
Not an easy task. Choosing just one. Any picture of my children makes me smile. It fills me with joy. And yet at the same time makes me aware that there should be more pictures. Of more children. Things just never seem to go the way we think they should,do they? Hhmmm.
So...I have been thinking about which picture I should choose.....I think I mentioned yesterday that I take pictures of everything. That wasn't an exaggeration. So I am literally pouring over hundreds and thousands of pictures trying to decide just which one I can pull out as The One for today's post. ( I already know which one will accompany tomorrow's and it won't be what you are expecting.) Choices,choices.
Here is the one I came up with. This was when I thought my life was perfect. That it would continue to be perfect. That all of the dark was behind me and there was nothing but sunshine ahead. This picture was taken 3 days after I got my oldest two daughters back. (Their father and his gf had kidnapped them from school two years earlier.....it was the hardest 18 months of court dates and 400 mile trips trying to stay in their lives and fight to bring them home.) My oldest two sons had gone out to buy little trinkets for their sisters this day. The four of them (in this pic) wanted to inflate the air mattress in the middle of the living room and stay in their Pj's and watch movies all day. It was beautiful. Looking at it now brings tears to my eyes. Happy ones. My children were ALL home. And there were two more in my belly growing by leaps and bounds who would join us that year and make my life beyond perfect.
Or so I thought.
So. This is the one. The picture that makes me happy. In this moment. At this time.
So...I have been thinking about which picture I should choose.....I think I mentioned yesterday that I take pictures of everything. That wasn't an exaggeration. So I am literally pouring over hundreds and thousands of pictures trying to decide just which one I can pull out as The One for today's post. ( I already know which one will accompany tomorrow's and it won't be what you are expecting.) Choices,choices.
Here is the one I came up with. This was when I thought my life was perfect. That it would continue to be perfect. That all of the dark was behind me and there was nothing but sunshine ahead. This picture was taken 3 days after I got my oldest two daughters back. (Their father and his gf had kidnapped them from school two years earlier.....it was the hardest 18 months of court dates and 400 mile trips trying to stay in their lives and fight to bring them home.) My oldest two sons had gone out to buy little trinkets for their sisters this day. The four of them (in this pic) wanted to inflate the air mattress in the middle of the living room and stay in their Pj's and watch movies all day. It was beautiful. Looking at it now brings tears to my eyes. Happy ones. My children were ALL home. And there were two more in my belly growing by leaps and bounds who would join us that year and make my life beyond perfect.
Or so I thought.
So. This is the one. The picture that makes me happy. In this moment. At this time.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
30 Days......Day 6
Ok. Here's the thing. Today I am supposed to name 20 things that calm me. Now,there are things that help soothe me and the state I may or may not be in emotionally at any given time. But CALM isn't exactly a word I would EVER use in reference to any part of my life. Hence......"Chaos Multiplied". Get it?
So-having said that.....let's see......what are 20 things that "soothe" me?
1. The sound of my children laughing. It doesn't matter what or why----just that they laugh. It centers me. It lets me know that THEY are ok and that is all I care about.
2. The breeze. It's a loving touch, a quiet whisper, a warm embrace.
3. The Resevoir. It's a place where I have often gone to gather my thoughts and tears....to organize my pain and revel in my joy. Chloe and Zoe's flowers are planted there. So is part of my heart.
4. MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC. Did I mention I love music? I could fill a million of these lists with each song or piece but for the sake of my reader(s) I will just leave it in one group. Music. It soothes me like nothing else can.
5. Crying. Yes,it seems counterproductive but oddly is not. Sometimes if I am falling into my dark place again or feeling especially on edge-I cry. Giving myself permission to sit down and have a good soul-cleansing sob is amazingly "calming". Just make sure you don't have to go out in public soon after or you risk the "OMG what kind of hack injected her with all that collagen?" sort of looks.
6. His voice. That's all.
7. Ben and Jerry. It is amazing how much they can make me smile without much effort. All I need is a spoon.
8. Water. Whether it's the sound of the rain outside my window, the warmth of the shower,the coolness of a swimming pool or the saltiness of my own tears (see #5) it doesn't matter. It is cleansing...washing away all the ickiness and pulling out the peacefulness.
9. Writing.Obiously.Duh.Next....
10. Taking pictures. For those of you who are lucky enough to be part of my Facebook circle you have seen evidence of this. There are pictures of everything. All the time. From numerous angles.
11. Walking. Walking enables me to be completely alone with my thoughts (and the voices) and try to sort through them without interruption. The best walks involve #4,at times #5,hopefully #3 and if I am incredibly lucky........#6.
12. Driving. Same sort of concept as #11 and ALWAYS involves #4.
13. Reading stories of other BLM's. There is something intensely painful yet incredibly calming in sharing a common pain. There truly is strength in numbers and the numbers of "us" are staggering. No matter how different the details of our stories there is always that one shared thread.....the reason we are a sorority....our loss.
14. Singing. Yes,I know I already listed music and technically singing is music. But this is different. This can be singing along with the radio,tv,MP3 player or whatever......but often it consists of just me. Just my voice.Just the music in my mind.
15. Talking. Not just mindless babble. Conversation. Something deep and philosophical. Something that other people consider off-limits in everyday social interaction. Picking someone else's brain on things like religion or politics or simply parenting styles can be extremely calming. It puts things in perspective and lets me know that not everything HAS to be perfect in my world and not EVERY choice I make HAS to be the "right" one according to popular theory.
16. Television. More specifically true crime series or medical drama shows. Things like The First 48, Grey's Anatomy.......they draw me in and take me away from the chaos. And let's face it.....there is no better medicine for someone who THINKS their house is filthy than watching a healthy dose of Hoarders!
17. Watching my kids play. Undetected. In secret. Taking in the moments they are lost in. The imagination. The innocence. The sheer unadulterated joy at finding a worm,carrying a stick or seeing a moth and screaming "Butterfly!!". Children have an uncanny talent for making adults look completely self absorbed and ignorant as to what TRULY matters in life. It's all about who can spit the furthest or whose scraped knee bled the most. Nothing else matters.
18. My mother's support. My mother is one of the two most amazing women who have EVER walked this planet IMHO. The other one was HER mother. My mother dropped everything three years ago to get on a plane and stand beside me literally holding my hand and talking me through the darkest moment of my life. She was there when my angels were delivered. She took their pictures. She touched their faces. She kept me centered so that I wouldn't miss a single moment of their birth because she knew I would NEED those memories. She cried with me. And when no one else could have---she made me laugh. When life is spinning out of control she is my emergency brake.
19. My best friend. (See #6). He is the voice of reason when I want to be rash. He is the voice of sanity when I want to scream. He loves me unconditionally even when I don't like myself very much. He is my happy place when it seems that all joy is lost.
20. Emotional movies. Something intense. Something deep. Something that is either completely heart-shattering or totally elating. Nothing in between and not comedies. Movies that move me. The calm is in the motion.
Whew!! That was actually harder than it looked!! But....if there was a #21....this entry would be it!!
So-having said that.....let's see......what are 20 things that "soothe" me?
1. The sound of my children laughing. It doesn't matter what or why----just that they laugh. It centers me. It lets me know that THEY are ok and that is all I care about.
2. The breeze. It's a loving touch, a quiet whisper, a warm embrace.
3. The Resevoir. It's a place where I have often gone to gather my thoughts and tears....to organize my pain and revel in my joy. Chloe and Zoe's flowers are planted there. So is part of my heart.
4. MUSIC MUSIC MUSIC. Did I mention I love music? I could fill a million of these lists with each song or piece but for the sake of my reader(s) I will just leave it in one group. Music. It soothes me like nothing else can.
5. Crying. Yes,it seems counterproductive but oddly is not. Sometimes if I am falling into my dark place again or feeling especially on edge-I cry. Giving myself permission to sit down and have a good soul-cleansing sob is amazingly "calming". Just make sure you don't have to go out in public soon after or you risk the "OMG what kind of hack injected her with all that collagen?" sort of looks.
6. His voice. That's all.
7. Ben and Jerry. It is amazing how much they can make me smile without much effort. All I need is a spoon.
8. Water. Whether it's the sound of the rain outside my window, the warmth of the shower,the coolness of a swimming pool or the saltiness of my own tears (see #5) it doesn't matter. It is cleansing...washing away all the ickiness and pulling out the peacefulness.
9. Writing.Obiously.Duh.Next....
10. Taking pictures. For those of you who are lucky enough to be part of my Facebook circle you have seen evidence of this. There are pictures of everything. All the time. From numerous angles.
11. Walking. Walking enables me to be completely alone with my thoughts (and the voices) and try to sort through them without interruption. The best walks involve #4,at times #5,hopefully #3 and if I am incredibly lucky........#6.
12. Driving. Same sort of concept as #11 and ALWAYS involves #4.
13. Reading stories of other BLM's. There is something intensely painful yet incredibly calming in sharing a common pain. There truly is strength in numbers and the numbers of "us" are staggering. No matter how different the details of our stories there is always that one shared thread.....the reason we are a sorority....our loss.
14. Singing. Yes,I know I already listed music and technically singing is music. But this is different. This can be singing along with the radio,tv,MP3 player or whatever......but often it consists of just me. Just my voice.Just the music in my mind.
15. Talking. Not just mindless babble. Conversation. Something deep and philosophical. Something that other people consider off-limits in everyday social interaction. Picking someone else's brain on things like religion or politics or simply parenting styles can be extremely calming. It puts things in perspective and lets me know that not everything HAS to be perfect in my world and not EVERY choice I make HAS to be the "right" one according to popular theory.
16. Television. More specifically true crime series or medical drama shows. Things like The First 48, Grey's Anatomy.......they draw me in and take me away from the chaos. And let's face it.....there is no better medicine for someone who THINKS their house is filthy than watching a healthy dose of Hoarders!
17. Watching my kids play. Undetected. In secret. Taking in the moments they are lost in. The imagination. The innocence. The sheer unadulterated joy at finding a worm,carrying a stick or seeing a moth and screaming "Butterfly!!". Children have an uncanny talent for making adults look completely self absorbed and ignorant as to what TRULY matters in life. It's all about who can spit the furthest or whose scraped knee bled the most. Nothing else matters.
18. My mother's support. My mother is one of the two most amazing women who have EVER walked this planet IMHO. The other one was HER mother. My mother dropped everything three years ago to get on a plane and stand beside me literally holding my hand and talking me through the darkest moment of my life. She was there when my angels were delivered. She took their pictures. She touched their faces. She kept me centered so that I wouldn't miss a single moment of their birth because she knew I would NEED those memories. She cried with me. And when no one else could have---she made me laugh. When life is spinning out of control she is my emergency brake.
19. My best friend. (See #6). He is the voice of reason when I want to be rash. He is the voice of sanity when I want to scream. He loves me unconditionally even when I don't like myself very much. He is my happy place when it seems that all joy is lost.
20. Emotional movies. Something intense. Something deep. Something that is either completely heart-shattering or totally elating. Nothing in between and not comedies. Movies that move me. The calm is in the motion.
Whew!! That was actually harder than it looked!! But....if there was a #21....this entry would be it!!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
30 days.......
Day 5.......my favorite quote...
This one is a little more difficult because I have many. Sometimes they stay the same and others they change with my mood. So. Today,for this day,for this mood I would have to say that my favorite quote is "a tiny life does not equal a tiny loss".
I think some people forget that we (as in all bereaved parents) have lost our children. They were beings. They lived no matter how briefly. They are gone. We are left to roam the Earth without them and ponder daily what they would have looked like,sounded like,acted like. The loss of a child....even one that never took a breath outside of its mother is a loss like no other. There is a gaping wound that never heals. It scabs over and feels less painful for a time. Then somone says something or we see something or hear something and suddenly the scab is ripped off and the blood is once again flowing. To lose a child is to lose our own identity. Yes,we soldier on and live. Yes, we function. Yes,we even appear to be "normal" (how I loathe that word) to the outside world. But we are not. We are changed. We are broken beyond repair. We become different people with different lives and lead a different "normal" than before. Our loss,no matter how tiny the world may percieve it to be-is epic to us.
This one is a little more difficult because I have many. Sometimes they stay the same and others they change with my mood. So. Today,for this day,for this mood I would have to say that my favorite quote is "a tiny life does not equal a tiny loss".
I think some people forget that we (as in all bereaved parents) have lost our children. They were beings. They lived no matter how briefly. They are gone. We are left to roam the Earth without them and ponder daily what they would have looked like,sounded like,acted like. The loss of a child....even one that never took a breath outside of its mother is a loss like no other. There is a gaping wound that never heals. It scabs over and feels less painful for a time. Then somone says something or we see something or hear something and suddenly the scab is ripped off and the blood is once again flowing. To lose a child is to lose our own identity. Yes,we soldier on and live. Yes, we function. Yes,we even appear to be "normal" (how I loathe that word) to the outside world. But we are not. We are changed. We are broken beyond repair. We become different people with different lives and lead a different "normal" than before. Our loss,no matter how tiny the world may percieve it to be-is epic to us.
Monday, October 4, 2010
30 Posts in 30 Days......
Today I happened upon another blog that I was instantly taken with. This blogger is doing a 30 posts in 30 days format from the standpoint of the mother of an angel baby. I loved that concept and the questions for the month so I have decided to follow her lead. Of course,as is usually the case I am behind. So here are my first several days worth all wrapped into one post. Check back often....and if you feel like it modify the questions to fit your own life circumstance and join!! What a great and creative way to introduce yourself to others!!!
I suppose a little back story is warranted here first......
The abridged version is this: my daughters died. Two of them. Identical twins. And in that moment my life,my soul and every facet of my being changed. Forever. There it is. My dark secret. I am the mother of two angels. Actually.....it goes way beyond that but for now this is where I will leave it. There will be much,much more to follow on this subject.
Now.....Day 1 (Oct. 1st).....a song that reminds you of your child or one you can no longer listen to.
There is a vast array of music that reminds me of Chloe and Zoe. Many because of the lyrics or just a line of the lyrics and others simply because the music moves me to a place where I feel their presence. I think the first song that really pulled me in after they died was "Boston" by Augustana. I know it has nothing to do with losing a child but it has to do with wanting to disappear and start over where no one knows you,your life or your story. I craved anonymity in the days following "the event". For weeks I wouldn't even walk outside of my house....there was this intense fear that if anyone saw me they would simply know.And I didn't want them to know,to look at me with "the look". This song reduced me to tears and still does. Of course there are so many others that reduce me to tears, cause me to smile or even laugh and many more that comfort me. Music is a constant in the absence of my children and the music of their laughter.
Day 2 (Oct. 2nd)......a movie that either helped you through your loss or jumped out at you because of it. Seven Pounds. I have never really contemplated the correlation here....I just know that I watched it during my depression and cried like a toddler whose favorite toy disappeared. Still do and I have watched it at least 100 times. When I am feeling especially sentimental for my daughters or missing them more than usual (is that even a possibility) I watch it. And I cry. A lot.
Day 3 (Oct. 3rd).....a TV program that helped you get through your loss or moved you. Let's get this straight immediately.....in no way shape or form will the answer to this question EVER involve anything showing Octo-heiffer or that other Kate witch ...both of whom send me into a very dark "I want to grab the closest sharp object and throw it at them" sort of place. Not good. At all. Having said that....I love true crime shows, legal tv series,medical shows and things of that nature. I am addicted to Greys and Private Practice. As far as my loss.......I would have to say the series " The Locator" has moved me. People being reunited with the children they "lost" years ago. To be so lucky. And yes, I cry at every single episode.
Day 4-(Oct. 4th).......your favorite book and has it changed since your loss? Prior to the death of my daughters my favorite two books were easily "The Lottery" and " To Kill A Mockingbird" (which also happens to be one of my all-time fave movies). Since losing the girls though my favorite book is now "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. This book is amazing. Simply. It moved me. Deeply as no book ever has. A very good friend suggested this book to me one day. He said there were parts that made him think of me specifically because I had lost my daughters. It's funny,people have made comments before and I always thank them and sort of browse the book or whatever. This time for some reason I felt compelled to go buy the book which I did within hours of his suggestion. I read it cover to cover in a couple days. Then I read it again. And I cried.....that deep,soul screaming,body wracking sort of cry. This book reached into the very depths of my soul and moved me in ways I cannot begin to explain because I am not entirely sure I understand them myself. The book was so good that I bought a second copy (my original has highlighted passages,notes,etc all over it) for my oldest daughter to take to a youth conference with her. The author was one of the scheduled keynote speakers and I wanted his autograph. That signed (and very pristine) copy is in Chloe and Zoe's memory box and will stay there.....amidst the other trinkets I have to remind me of the minute time they spent with me.
So...there you have it. I am caught up now. Tomorrow is another day........
I suppose a little back story is warranted here first......
The abridged version is this: my daughters died. Two of them. Identical twins. And in that moment my life,my soul and every facet of my being changed. Forever. There it is. My dark secret. I am the mother of two angels. Actually.....it goes way beyond that but for now this is where I will leave it. There will be much,much more to follow on this subject.
Now.....Day 1 (Oct. 1st).....a song that reminds you of your child or one you can no longer listen to.
There is a vast array of music that reminds me of Chloe and Zoe. Many because of the lyrics or just a line of the lyrics and others simply because the music moves me to a place where I feel their presence. I think the first song that really pulled me in after they died was "Boston" by Augustana. I know it has nothing to do with losing a child but it has to do with wanting to disappear and start over where no one knows you,your life or your story. I craved anonymity in the days following "the event". For weeks I wouldn't even walk outside of my house....there was this intense fear that if anyone saw me they would simply know.And I didn't want them to know,to look at me with "the look". This song reduced me to tears and still does. Of course there are so many others that reduce me to tears, cause me to smile or even laugh and many more that comfort me. Music is a constant in the absence of my children and the music of their laughter.
Day 2 (Oct. 2nd)......a movie that either helped you through your loss or jumped out at you because of it. Seven Pounds. I have never really contemplated the correlation here....I just know that I watched it during my depression and cried like a toddler whose favorite toy disappeared. Still do and I have watched it at least 100 times. When I am feeling especially sentimental for my daughters or missing them more than usual (is that even a possibility) I watch it. And I cry. A lot.
Day 3 (Oct. 3rd).....a TV program that helped you get through your loss or moved you. Let's get this straight immediately.....in no way shape or form will the answer to this question EVER involve anything showing Octo-heiffer or that other Kate witch ...both of whom send me into a very dark "I want to grab the closest sharp object and throw it at them" sort of place. Not good. At all. Having said that....I love true crime shows, legal tv series,medical shows and things of that nature. I am addicted to Greys and Private Practice. As far as my loss.......I would have to say the series " The Locator" has moved me. People being reunited with the children they "lost" years ago. To be so lucky. And yes, I cry at every single episode.
Day 4-(Oct. 4th).......your favorite book and has it changed since your loss? Prior to the death of my daughters my favorite two books were easily "The Lottery" and " To Kill A Mockingbird" (which also happens to be one of my all-time fave movies). Since losing the girls though my favorite book is now "The Shack" by Wm. Paul Young. This book is amazing. Simply. It moved me. Deeply as no book ever has. A very good friend suggested this book to me one day. He said there were parts that made him think of me specifically because I had lost my daughters. It's funny,people have made comments before and I always thank them and sort of browse the book or whatever. This time for some reason I felt compelled to go buy the book which I did within hours of his suggestion. I read it cover to cover in a couple days. Then I read it again. And I cried.....that deep,soul screaming,body wracking sort of cry. This book reached into the very depths of my soul and moved me in ways I cannot begin to explain because I am not entirely sure I understand them myself. The book was so good that I bought a second copy (my original has highlighted passages,notes,etc all over it) for my oldest daughter to take to a youth conference with her. The author was one of the scheduled keynote speakers and I wanted his autograph. That signed (and very pristine) copy is in Chloe and Zoe's memory box and will stay there.....amidst the other trinkets I have to remind me of the minute time they spent with me.
So...there you have it. I am caught up now. Tomorrow is another day........
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Well,here it is. My first post. For someone who never shuts up I am suddenly finding myself at a loss for words. I mean...seriously....what am I supposed to write about? Should I become one of those sickeningly annoying people who blogs about every single thing her children do? Should I fashion my blog after one of those Queens of Male Bashing? Who am I kidding...I am already both of those people.
I guess I will start here.....with the reason I am blogging in the first place. I write. All the time. All sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. Mostly I write because it seems to be the most effective way of making the voices in my head shut up. They talk incessantly.It's obnoxious really. And I tire of it. So ....... I write.
Writing has helped me celebrate the highs,overcome the lows and survive the depths of the darkest places a person could ever travel to. It has helped me cope,accept and persevere. And quite frankly it has made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry.
So-there you have it. The reason I am here. How about you? Why are you here? Other than the obvious reason being you are nosey and like to search for tidbits of others' baneful existence to make you feel better about yourself and your own paltry life. Just kidding. Sort of. (Sarcasm....recognize it?) Whatever brought you here...thanks for visiting. I hope you come back often because I happen to have a lot to say.
J
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)