My thoughts lately have been how I'm really living this life, kind of a “I’m really doing this without him” kind of thing. I’ve been having a hard time with beating myself up for my failures, deficiencies and where I’m just plain missing it, so my work has been to do that less and acknowledge my accomplishments more. Elijah is nearly 2.5, which means we have been on our own for nearly 2.5 years. That’s big to me. We are continuing to grow and change, go forward and backward. I still cry for a lot of reasons. We are still experiencing new things. Most recently, we were on vacation for a week and a half. That alone is a first. But my battles have been with something a lot of people deal with after the death of a loved one: “The What If Monster,” and I noticed it a lot on vacation.
Let me preface this by saying I enjoyed our vacation. I loved being with the children and we loved Disney World. We took on Tropical Storm Debbie and won. We ventured out in the rain laughing as we splashed through the puddles and waited 10 minutes or less in lines that normally take 45 minutes to an hour. We took advantage of the comfortable temperatures and did almost everything we had planned to do.
There were a few moments though when I wished Thomas had been alive to enjoy how the children were enjoying themselves. One of my favorite things is seeing how they explore, gain confidence, grow and light up as they experience new things. Then the reality would set in again. I don’t get to think how he would have enjoyed this. It would not have been possible if he were still with us. He was too ill to have taken a trip like that. I deal with this it seems every time I take them somewhere although it has significantly lessened over time. I’m not sure how it feels. It’s a bit of guilt and sadness when it happens. The guilt was pretty significant at first, but is way less now. Now it’s more complicated in that I can’t really put my finger on how it makes me feel.
I’m proud of myself. This was the 3rd time I have taken them on an airplane by myself, and my 2nd Disney trip with them on my own. But I guess there is part of me a place inside that feels a bit of a twinge when I see people on scooters there and the accommodations they make there for the people that are on them because we had discussed going and him getting one for the same reason he had the handicap placard in his vehicles (cannot walk over 200 feet without stopping to rest) and he had said he’d never use one. I don’t think we would have made it to Disney World.
I had to work really hard to make it happen. I’ve had to work really hard to make pretty much everything happen. Recently I had a moment when I looked at my son and remembered all of the doubts Thomas verbally expressed about my ability to parent the children. I remember all the doubts I myself had about my ability to parent the children. I guess the shock of the pregnancy really was a lot to deal with in his condition. It wasn’t a very encouraging conversation. I look at my son now, how happy he and my daughter are despite all that has happened to us and shake my head when I remember that conversation. Just before we went on vacation, the children and I went to the cemetery for Father’s Day and a huge part of me wanted to scream: WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY NOW PAL??!?!?! LOOK AT US! I miss him, but sometimes I think he better dang well be proud of us if he has any ability to be now.
We aren’t perfect and yes, the house could be cleaner, and I can admit I have several times thought about abandoning certain decisions upon which I have lived, but with all of the stuff that has piled on top of his death, even when it was by a thread, I have hung on. I am still here at nearly 28 months out assessing the emotional damage. I still fight with the “what if” monster in regards to the days leading up to Thomas’ passing. I conclude that there was really nothing I could have done or anyone else for that matter. I mean he literally sat down for a nap and died. He was probably sicker than any of us knew. Had it not been that week, it probably would not have been much longer. “What if” I’d been home? He appeared to have passed peacefully and I cannot know the trauma that might have occurred had I been home and called for intervention, what they might have done to him trying to save him with his other conditions, particularly the osteoporosis, it could have been bad. Things going a different way could mean he’d still be here. It could mean he’d still be dead. It could mean we would have a lot more horrific memories of that day. He could be here suffering even more now. I have to trust in the way things lined up that day.
It ain't easy. So much of my ability was questioned in those last months that it is much easier to feel like I failed everyone by not realizing Thomas was in trouble, that I walked away that morning when he appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but with him taking his last few hundred breaths. But I remember I did all I could living under some really rough circumstances, and that even with knowing all there is to know, I probably could not have saved him. My being with him probably lengthened his life by several years and he accomplished a lot in the years he lived past his prognosis, but I know we were on borrowed time. It is much easier said than done, but I have to remember that I have enough to do without torturing myself. Besides, there’s a long list of things Thomas himself could have done differently and he doesn’t have to deal with the guilt, so I should cut myself a break.
I need my confidence back from the “what if” monster. Ariana’s emotional recovery is just really beginning as the effects on her have revealed themselves in phases. Elijah is now 100% on recognizing his father in pictures. He points to Thomas’ wall I put up in the foyer and picks him out in each one, which means the wall is serving its dual purpose of honoring who Thomas was and showing his children who he was. I tell him daddy isn’t here, that he’s with Jesus. His response is interesting. “Thank you Jesus! Hallelujah!” But one day, I know it will hit him what that really means and I wonder if his response will be "Thank you Jesus" or "Screw You Jesus!" or "Screw You Mom, you've had us following this guy that took our father away?" It’s going to be up to me to put the blame where it really belongs so he knows who the enemy really is.
And I have to confess. Just before we left on vacation, I was more than tired. I had thought long and hard about taking a different road with my life even though it would take me away from everyone we have left in our lives that have been rocks in the roughest waters we have been through. I haven’t been perfect, but it’s the road I have stayed on through hell and high water, the road that brought me peace at some point in every storm. So I know the “what if” monster doesn’t play nice and he doesn’t play fair. So my only choice is to pound him into the dust, work my way yet again down the arm’s length I’ve pushed God out to in anger and be “home” where I belong. This is the only life I know now and the only one I want to know and what I want for my children.
I’m staring down the big 4-0. It’s too late to make that big of a change. I have a lot of challenges ahead of me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid at all. But I have courage because of the grace and love God's provided so far. He's worked things out despite me so I have to stick with Him. I could never match His faithfulness. He's been there when I have not, listening to me ramble in fear, anger and confusion way more than in praise and worship. And He's given me courage. I realize courage isn’t the complete absence of apprehension, but the ability to go forward despite it. So, we’re going forward.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The Reality that THIS is Father's Day. This is My Life
Well, we have gotten through our third Father’s Day since Thomas died. For my daughter they seem to be getting easier. For me this one was very much a “wake me when it’s over” occasion. Still, my gratitude for having children goes to Thomas and God, so I would never fail to acknowledge this day. My daughter as of now takes comfort in going to the cemetery and taking pictures. My son seems more interested in what is happening there each time. He’s learned the word daddy, and will say “hi daddy” when we arrive and “bye bye daddy” when we leave although I am sure his understanding is little to none here.
Still so early in my journey through parenthood, something in me doesn’t want to accept that this is Father’s Day. This is really my life. In the past few weeks leading up to Father's Day, I’ve been bombarded with the stats on fatherless children. I know the odds are stacked against us. That isn’t new. They were when Thomas was here. I’ve accepted we’ll have to be world beaters in my house. I keep us in church. We do family devotions. Sacrifices have been made for private Christian education, even with less income to work with now. We chose Godparents from the beginning and I know that their Godfather will be there for them and Elijah will become the man Thomas would have taught him to be under his guidance. Still this ...
It may never sit quite right. The pictures are beautiful. They show sensitivity in the children, even my son. They show the love and devotion in my daughter and how curiosity is growing in my son. In one you can see Ariana talking to Elijah. She’s telling him about their dad. This is Father’s Day for us. We are slowly but surely playing the hand we’ve been dealt and making a life for ourselves. We’re a crazy, but loving trio who love nothing more than being together.
I’ve changed. I’ve lost my poker face. Bluffing doesn’t work anymore. More and more days, I'm fine. There is no day without laughter. There is no day without joy. There are days I'm either just okay or I'm managing or I'm mad. The pain on some days is overwhelming when I combine the reality of what we went through and how he was gone from them, from us so soon. But when I think of how he was suffering and how I was suffering, I know there was no alternative besides a miracle healing. He had to go to Jesus for that. We miss him. The brutality of the physical and emotional pain he went through and the emotional pain and stress of managing a household underneath it all I went through had to have a time limit. The fear and anxiety and angst my daughter dealt with is just now surfacing. Here at over 2 years out, I’m still assessing and addressing the emotional damage.
But Rome wasn’t built in a day. Heck, neither was the world. God could have blinked and had everything here in an instant. The fact that He took six days to create everything teaches me that big things take time. We are a work in progress. We are learning to live with the pain. We are navigating with all the bumps in the road. We laugh at how Thomas and Elijah would likely be driving each other nuts. We lament he isn’t here to see how the children are growing. I try not to think of the long list of milestones ahead, all of the things I’ll experience with them that he never will. Their lives were really just starting and then we had to start over. Ariana wondered if he’d be proud. She’s sure he’s keeping an eye on us. I told her I know he would be. I told him he better be.
It may never sit quite right. The pictures are beautiful. They show sensitivity in the children, even my son. They show the love and devotion in my daughter and how curiosity is growing in my son. In one you can see Ariana talking to Elijah. She’s telling him about their dad. This is Father’s Day for us. We are slowly but surely playing the hand we’ve been dealt and making a life for ourselves. We’re a crazy, but loving trio who love nothing more than being together.
But Rome wasn’t built in a day. Heck, neither was the world. God could have blinked and had everything here in an instant. The fact that He took six days to create everything teaches me that big things take time. We are a work in progress. We are learning to live with the pain. We are navigating with all the bumps in the road. We laugh at how Thomas and Elijah would likely be driving each other nuts. We lament he isn’t here to see how the children are growing. I try not to think of the long list of milestones ahead, all of the things I’ll experience with them that he never will. Their lives were really just starting and then we had to start over. Ariana wondered if he’d be proud. She’s sure he’s keeping an eye on us. I told her I know he would be. I told him he better be.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Father gone, Learning Challenge, ADHD: My Baby the Giant Killer
I know these things don't define my baby; yet, here we are.
I posted on my widow forum, that we have the diagnosis. After years of struggle, tutoring that didn't help, many nights of frustration, of feeling helpless and just plain tired, what I suspected was true. I had no problem accepting the ADHD diagnosis or the Dyslexia diagnosis. What I knew was that I had a child no less intelligent than anyone else who was struggling to read, (though has improved a lot), took forever on her homework even with me sitting right there (though there has been improvement there too) and was tanking almost every test. I wanted answers. I needed answers. I was desparate for answers.
It was not an easy path to the diagnosis. And the path hasn't been easy since I had it. The choice of a school for the upcoming year is still not final. She has a seat in a public elementary school near the school she attends now. She'd need a scholarship to go the private school I toured that already has an impressive program for children with learning differences. Three others were closed options as in they only had children with learning differences enrolled and that is not what I want for her. Her current school like almost every other private school, is not used to dealing with children who need accommodations. We have been there for a long time. She was in the daycare and went straight to the elementary school. Our pastors are the CEOs (aka headmasters) so naturally after all they have done for us, I was not going to remove Ariana without a conversation.
Well, here's what happened. Due to his own history, my pastor wanted to provide services for children with learning challenges, and prior to Ariana's most recent evaluation he said he would look into it, but the research on costs, staffing needs, accommodations and modifications required had been put aside due to other things being addressed. It took a while to get the diagnosis due to some delays in paperwork, but I eventually had it. Within three days of getting word of the diagnosis and my sincere angst, but willingness to change schools, he had put together a team of six people to bring in what Ariana would need in hopes that she would not have to change schools.
I don't know if all this will result in her being able to return this coming year or at a later time, but I certainly appreciate the effort. Everyone agrees there is no reason to retain her and that doing so in her case would do more harm than good. The path for her will best be served with remediation and accommodations in the classroom. Her school has the psychologists recommendations. I sent the psycholoist's report to her pediatrician and had an appointment with him yesterday. I now have a prescription for an ADHD medication and with the summer to see how it will work, and make adjustments if they are necessary. The public school told me that due to scheduling an IEP would not be written for her until after she'd been in school there for a while anyway, so I am not rushing to get them the report.
I have contacted several sources for tutoring over the summer. I heard back from a lady certified in the same program the therapist (who saw Ariana saw back in November) wanted to use. I also have the home version and will finally have time to use it over the summer, and hope to only have the tutoring 1 hour per week. She costs $50/hr, but at least it will be one on one. I have replied to her asking about her availability and the logistics on how she works. The pediatrician is referring us to a speech therapist who will contact us for an appointment.
Today, I have a meeting with the resource teacher and administration from her current school. So, after hours of research with the psychologist’s report by my side, I compiled an initial list of 11 accommodation/modification requests for Ariana to take to this meeting at her school today. The list may need to be expanded or reduced depending on the effects of the medication and the tutoring she’ll be getting, but it is a place to start. An individual education plan also consists of a set of goals, so at the bottom of my request list is a request for the goals the school has for 4th graders so I can decide whether or not to have those goals adjusted for Ariana.
Along with those requests I have printed copies of my research sources from the websites the psychologist provided to support my reasoning in making those requests. I’ve also made up a check list I’ll be requesting Ariana get to use each day to make sure she has everything she needs when she packs up to go home. It is called “My Take Home List”. I listed every book she’ll have next year, and there is a section called homework sheets with each subject listed as well. Each line has a box to check. I’ll be asking that she with help from the teacher or a friend, take the sheet and the homework assignment sheet and get help checking things off as she packs at the end of the day.
She would often come home either without the worksheets she needed to do her homework, without the books she needed or both. I actually had extra copies of some of her books that I had purchased in case she forgot the sheet at school. This was usually demoralizing for her because she might have done half of the sheet between end of instruction at 3:00 and when I arrive at 4:00, but would have to start over with a blank sheet once we got home.
I realize this will be the first of many of these meetings. I’m slowly wrapping my head around getting the mental energy to keep going. Lord only knows there might be other undiagnosed children in there that end up getting help without having to change schools. My pastor has been appreciative of the push to move forward in expanding the school’s capacity. If it doesn’t work out for this coming school year, I am confident she will be able to return and that is comforting.
I guess we're going to have to be world beaters in our house. Bring on summer. I think we’ve earned our vacation.
I posted on my widow forum, that we have the diagnosis. After years of struggle, tutoring that didn't help, many nights of frustration, of feeling helpless and just plain tired, what I suspected was true. I had no problem accepting the ADHD diagnosis or the Dyslexia diagnosis. What I knew was that I had a child no less intelligent than anyone else who was struggling to read, (though has improved a lot), took forever on her homework even with me sitting right there (though there has been improvement there too) and was tanking almost every test. I wanted answers. I needed answers. I was desparate for answers.
It was not an easy path to the diagnosis. And the path hasn't been easy since I had it. The choice of a school for the upcoming year is still not final. She has a seat in a public elementary school near the school she attends now. She'd need a scholarship to go the private school I toured that already has an impressive program for children with learning differences. Three others were closed options as in they only had children with learning differences enrolled and that is not what I want for her. Her current school like almost every other private school, is not used to dealing with children who need accommodations. We have been there for a long time. She was in the daycare and went straight to the elementary school. Our pastors are the CEOs (aka headmasters) so naturally after all they have done for us, I was not going to remove Ariana without a conversation.
Well, here's what happened. Due to his own history, my pastor wanted to provide services for children with learning challenges, and prior to Ariana's most recent evaluation he said he would look into it, but the research on costs, staffing needs, accommodations and modifications required had been put aside due to other things being addressed. It took a while to get the diagnosis due to some delays in paperwork, but I eventually had it. Within three days of getting word of the diagnosis and my sincere angst, but willingness to change schools, he had put together a team of six people to bring in what Ariana would need in hopes that she would not have to change schools.
I don't know if all this will result in her being able to return this coming year or at a later time, but I certainly appreciate the effort. Everyone agrees there is no reason to retain her and that doing so in her case would do more harm than good. The path for her will best be served with remediation and accommodations in the classroom. Her school has the psychologists recommendations. I sent the psycholoist's report to her pediatrician and had an appointment with him yesterday. I now have a prescription for an ADHD medication and with the summer to see how it will work, and make adjustments if they are necessary. The public school told me that due to scheduling an IEP would not be written for her until after she'd been in school there for a while anyway, so I am not rushing to get them the report.
I have contacted several sources for tutoring over the summer. I heard back from a lady certified in the same program the therapist (who saw Ariana saw back in November) wanted to use. I also have the home version and will finally have time to use it over the summer, and hope to only have the tutoring 1 hour per week. She costs $50/hr, but at least it will be one on one. I have replied to her asking about her availability and the logistics on how she works. The pediatrician is referring us to a speech therapist who will contact us for an appointment.
Today, I have a meeting with the resource teacher and administration from her current school. So, after hours of research with the psychologist’s report by my side, I compiled an initial list of 11 accommodation/modification requests for Ariana to take to this meeting at her school today. The list may need to be expanded or reduced depending on the effects of the medication and the tutoring she’ll be getting, but it is a place to start. An individual education plan also consists of a set of goals, so at the bottom of my request list is a request for the goals the school has for 4th graders so I can decide whether or not to have those goals adjusted for Ariana.
Along with those requests I have printed copies of my research sources from the websites the psychologist provided to support my reasoning in making those requests. I’ve also made up a check list I’ll be requesting Ariana get to use each day to make sure she has everything she needs when she packs up to go home. It is called “My Take Home List”. I listed every book she’ll have next year, and there is a section called homework sheets with each subject listed as well. Each line has a box to check. I’ll be asking that she with help from the teacher or a friend, take the sheet and the homework assignment sheet and get help checking things off as she packs at the end of the day.
She would often come home either without the worksheets she needed to do her homework, without the books she needed or both. I actually had extra copies of some of her books that I had purchased in case she forgot the sheet at school. This was usually demoralizing for her because she might have done half of the sheet between end of instruction at 3:00 and when I arrive at 4:00, but would have to start over with a blank sheet once we got home.
I realize this will be the first of many of these meetings. I’m slowly wrapping my head around getting the mental energy to keep going. Lord only knows there might be other undiagnosed children in there that end up getting help without having to change schools. My pastor has been appreciative of the push to move forward in expanding the school’s capacity. If it doesn’t work out for this coming school year, I am confident she will be able to return and that is comforting.
I guess we're going to have to be world beaters in our house. Bring on summer. I think we’ve earned our vacation.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
26 Months: I Should Really Be More Proud of Me
It is one of the things I am working on, being more proud of myself.
It is hard to figure out therefore explain the way I am feeling right now. I could say I miss Thomas. I could say I’m worried about Ariana’s transition to a new school now that she has officially been diagnosed with Dyslexia and ADHD. I could say I’m worried about getting her everything she needs. I could say I feel alone not having Ariana’s father to talk to about this. But I’m also not at all sure he’d buy into the diagnosis. It makes sense to me though. I could say I’m sad that Ariana has to change schools because she is so upset about it (and she doesn’t even know yet that it is definite).
I could say I’m just flat out tired because I have been working 15 hours most days of the last 3 weeks. I could talk about the daunting task I have ahead of me of getting Ariana an Individualized Education Plan written and signed. I could yet again begin to lament situations surrounding my husband's illness and death that have put me in various uncomfortable situations over the last two years. But then I’d have to say how I really wish I didn’t think about those things every time I had certain challenges.
Change just isn’t welcome is all. I guess it was not guaranteed that I’d be able to stay on the path we laid out for the children. Things happen. We find out things we didn’t know before now. Private school was a huge part of our plan for them, but I have resolved it in my head. There is just one here that can serve her with these challenges and we'll need a scholarship. I am applying though. What’s important is that each child’s needs are met however I have to do it.
Decision time came and went. The evaluation came and went. Then the results came in. Now I’m in the process of initiating the necessary communications for the transition. I started communication with the public school I chose and resumed it with the private school I chose. As advised by the psychologist and several other people who have been down this road, I got myself an advocate for the process of getting my daughter what she needs. There is a special needs teacher at my church I have made aware of Ariana’s situation. I had asked her to tutor her, but all of her time was taken. She said though that she would do what she could to make sure Ariana's Indivual Education Plan was a good one. I made an appointment with her pediatrician to talk about options for dealing with the ADHD. It’s not for a couple of weeks due to availability.
What I’m facing and I think what hurts is the plan is changing without the man with whom I devised the plan. People who know are supportive but no one can dive into this at the level her other parent would. I will miss her going to the same school and I can admit I’m a bit emotional about it at times, but I’m looking forward to getting her what she needs. But I think my emotion about it has as much to do with having to leave the plan Thomas and I made together as anything else.
This was one of those things that would always keep him “active” in their lives in my mind and once we go off that plan, he’s not or at least not like he was. My children are so young, I have had to and will have to make so many decisions about them without him. Just makes me feel really alone I guess and it feels like he is even further away now. Knowing that 1 of every 10 children has a learning challenge has not helped yet. Not sure if that makes any sense, but I know it would not have a snowball’s chance in the desert of making sense, if I didn’t voice it.
But I look back and see I have been on my own with them for 26 months. Elijah was 2 months old when this happened and I am floored when I look at him now. Ariana having been through all she has been through could have a lot more issues going on. But the psychologist said she had no reservations of recommending any program or school for her because despite everything else she is well-behaved and a joy to have around. Her teacher said she is one of the most well-behaved children she has ever had.
I lamented about the situation with Ariana over on the widow board I go to and one poster said she had read a lot of what I have written over the time I have been on there and that I wasn’t giving myself enough credit. She said I’d held things together for a long time and should feel more confident in my ability to move forward. Nothing I haven’t heard, but I think I reached a point of being tired of feeling bad about myself when I read it. And I thought to myself. Yep, and there was so much pressure on me it was unreal. I should give myself, and therefore God more credit for all that is intact at this point including my sanity.
It’s just that sometimes, when I think about it all…it just hurts. It hurts like a dull ache of a weight on you.
This journey prior to and after Thomas’ death really did a number on my self-esteem. I am not where I want to be yet, but with all of the trauma and drama we have experienced…I should be amazed at my little family. I am amazed at my children. It’s being proud of myself I have issues with and I realize that. As I have carried on in a situation that would likely crush a lot of people I realize it would serve me better to acknowledge it more often. Even progress towards progress is progress.
It is hard to figure out therefore explain the way I am feeling right now. I could say I miss Thomas. I could say I’m worried about Ariana’s transition to a new school now that she has officially been diagnosed with Dyslexia and ADHD. I could say I’m worried about getting her everything she needs. I could say I feel alone not having Ariana’s father to talk to about this. But I’m also not at all sure he’d buy into the diagnosis. It makes sense to me though. I could say I’m sad that Ariana has to change schools because she is so upset about it (and she doesn’t even know yet that it is definite).
I could say I’m just flat out tired because I have been working 15 hours most days of the last 3 weeks. I could talk about the daunting task I have ahead of me of getting Ariana an Individualized Education Plan written and signed. I could yet again begin to lament situations surrounding my husband's illness and death that have put me in various uncomfortable situations over the last two years. But then I’d have to say how I really wish I didn’t think about those things every time I had certain challenges.
Change just isn’t welcome is all. I guess it was not guaranteed that I’d be able to stay on the path we laid out for the children. Things happen. We find out things we didn’t know before now. Private school was a huge part of our plan for them, but I have resolved it in my head. There is just one here that can serve her with these challenges and we'll need a scholarship. I am applying though. What’s important is that each child’s needs are met however I have to do it.
Decision time came and went. The evaluation came and went. Then the results came in. Now I’m in the process of initiating the necessary communications for the transition. I started communication with the public school I chose and resumed it with the private school I chose. As advised by the psychologist and several other people who have been down this road, I got myself an advocate for the process of getting my daughter what she needs. There is a special needs teacher at my church I have made aware of Ariana’s situation. I had asked her to tutor her, but all of her time was taken. She said though that she would do what she could to make sure Ariana's Indivual Education Plan was a good one. I made an appointment with her pediatrician to talk about options for dealing with the ADHD. It’s not for a couple of weeks due to availability.
What I’m facing and I think what hurts is the plan is changing without the man with whom I devised the plan. People who know are supportive but no one can dive into this at the level her other parent would. I will miss her going to the same school and I can admit I’m a bit emotional about it at times, but I’m looking forward to getting her what she needs. But I think my emotion about it has as much to do with having to leave the plan Thomas and I made together as anything else.
This was one of those things that would always keep him “active” in their lives in my mind and once we go off that plan, he’s not or at least not like he was. My children are so young, I have had to and will have to make so many decisions about them without him. Just makes me feel really alone I guess and it feels like he is even further away now. Knowing that 1 of every 10 children has a learning challenge has not helped yet. Not sure if that makes any sense, but I know it would not have a snowball’s chance in the desert of making sense, if I didn’t voice it.
But I look back and see I have been on my own with them for 26 months. Elijah was 2 months old when this happened and I am floored when I look at him now. Ariana having been through all she has been through could have a lot more issues going on. But the psychologist said she had no reservations of recommending any program or school for her because despite everything else she is well-behaved and a joy to have around. Her teacher said she is one of the most well-behaved children she has ever had.
I lamented about the situation with Ariana over on the widow board I go to and one poster said she had read a lot of what I have written over the time I have been on there and that I wasn’t giving myself enough credit. She said I’d held things together for a long time and should feel more confident in my ability to move forward. Nothing I haven’t heard, but I think I reached a point of being tired of feeling bad about myself when I read it. And I thought to myself. Yep, and there was so much pressure on me it was unreal. I should give myself, and therefore God more credit for all that is intact at this point including my sanity.
It’s just that sometimes, when I think about it all…it just hurts. It hurts like a dull ache of a weight on you.
This journey prior to and after Thomas’ death really did a number on my self-esteem. I am not where I want to be yet, but with all of the trauma and drama we have experienced…I should be amazed at my little family. I am amazed at my children. It’s being proud of myself I have issues with and I realize that. As I have carried on in a situation that would likely crush a lot of people I realize it would serve me better to acknowledge it more often. Even progress towards progress is progress.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Frustation, Steps Forward and Back, Decision Time: Can I Do It?
Spring is often a time for change, birth, blooming, what have you. There is no lack of change happening here. I feel like this journey I’ve been on has left me either ill-equipped or just too drained to deal with the challenges I’m facing. Of course there is also the possibility that none of that is true and I’m just being too hard on myself as usual. I think it is a bit of both. Either way the alternating between forward and backward progress is draining.
Okay, so after continuing to struggle while waiting for a spot to miraculously open up at the therapy office where I had Ariana evaluated in November, I took her to a psychologist. I can’t get her any help without some type of diagnosis whether it’s adhd, dyslexia or both. And paying for tutors and private school was getting me nowhere. Ordered the home version of the program the therapist (that has no spots open) wants to use, but after doing her regular school work, we are both spent.
I met with the psychologist on my own first for an hour to talk about what we have been experiencing. Of course this had to include talking about Thomas’ illness and death. I think I have said before that talking about all we have been through at once really does something to me. Hearing it all come out of my mouth and watching the reaction even of a well-trained therapist (and she does appear to be well-trained) or whoever I am speaking to at the time, is at the least a really interesting experience. Testing was scheduled for April 3rd and she’d test for adhd as well as any learning disability, plus anxiety and depression just in case. That day was trying and tiring, but the therapist said she enjoyed being with Ariana. She said she’s a wonderful child and it would likely be life changing just to get her into the right educational environment, but if need be she would advise on medication.
We were to meet two weeks later to go over the results. In the meantime I toured a school with a learning support program embedded in it. It was the only private school around I could find with one implemented. I walked away impressed, but also with the knowledge there’s no way I could afford it without a scholarship. The principal said that was a common response and handed me the financial aid packet as well as addresses of preschools nearby in case I wanted to move my son to ease the commute.
Well, after delay after delay after delay, I am finally headed back to the psychologist tomorrow for the results. The original plan was for us to meet two weeks later, on April 17th. Testing was April 3rd. However, the paper work required from her teacher took 3 weeks to come back. I should have followed my first instinct to hand deliver the package. The doctor for valid reasons preferred to mail it to the school.
After all was said and done, this conversation was delayed 2 weeks. Here we are in May. This discussion is basically going to decide where my daughter goes to school in the fall and I have been more than frustrated. I have not been able to get back in touch with the lady from the school I toured last month because I have nothing new for her and this also delays her being evaluated for the program they offer and me being able to apply for a scholarship, which we will definitely need. I did however, manage to get her a seat at the public school I wanted. It’s two minutes away from my son’s daycare. If we end up there, I’ll add therapy at a local center. My pastor (knowing how much the school means to us), wants to get her what she needs. I appreciate it, but I am just not sure if he has the time to do so and we can’t go through another year like we have.
In the meantime work has been crazy and my daughter has had some stellar moments and some not so stellar moments at school and at home. She has however begun to do her homework without supervision. I didn’t worry as much about the correctness of it as I normally do because I didn’t want to take away from her taking the steps to do her homework without me an inch away.
Last night even I called to her so we could prepare for a history quiz and she yelled back, “I’m already studying!” I peeked and there she was, sitting, history book open. While she took a break I wrote down the study questions the teacher had emailed to the parents and let her go on her own again. She didn’t mind. That’s a change from saying she needed me next to her. She may or may not do well on this quiz, but I won’t let that take away from her studying on her own. It’s a step right?
I feel for her. I know she has tried. Her friends mean a lot to her and while they have been supportive, there have also been some comments on all of the crying she does during the day. I don’t know if it is fatigue at this point, but she’s had more episodes of frustration and crying in the last month and so have I. She’s 9 years-old now. She had a birthday last week. We celebrated surrounded by family and friends and I didn’t experience the crash that normally follows hitting yet another milestone without her father. But as I move forward however slowly I can’t help but feel I lack the fortitude I need now. No matter what the doctor says tomorrow, there are going to be a lot of adjustments to our lives. Not the least of which is a possible change in schools, which is not the least bit welcome in her world. She’ll make friends wherever she goes, but I’m bracing myself for the ride during the adjustment. I will make a small mountain of decisions to make once I find out the extent of what she will need.
Challenges in everyday life whether they are large or small magnify the loneliness in my life. Reading that 1 out of every 10 students has a learning challenge hasn’t helped that. Knowing that I have to make whatever changes I need to make for her good haven’t helped that. Reminding myself that the hell we have been through would have crushed a lot of people hasn't quite helped that. I have reached the point where I have faith we can overcome what we face. I do however feel as if I have been swimming upstream for the better part of the last seven years. I’m smarter, more compassionate, and in a lot of ways a better person from the journey. I’m also flat out tired. The answer to my original question: Can I do it? I can. I will. I have to.
Okay, so after continuing to struggle while waiting for a spot to miraculously open up at the therapy office where I had Ariana evaluated in November, I took her to a psychologist. I can’t get her any help without some type of diagnosis whether it’s adhd, dyslexia or both. And paying for tutors and private school was getting me nowhere. Ordered the home version of the program the therapist (that has no spots open) wants to use, but after doing her regular school work, we are both spent.
I met with the psychologist on my own first for an hour to talk about what we have been experiencing. Of course this had to include talking about Thomas’ illness and death. I think I have said before that talking about all we have been through at once really does something to me. Hearing it all come out of my mouth and watching the reaction even of a well-trained therapist (and she does appear to be well-trained) or whoever I am speaking to at the time, is at the least a really interesting experience. Testing was scheduled for April 3rd and she’d test for adhd as well as any learning disability, plus anxiety and depression just in case. That day was trying and tiring, but the therapist said she enjoyed being with Ariana. She said she’s a wonderful child and it would likely be life changing just to get her into the right educational environment, but if need be she would advise on medication.
We were to meet two weeks later to go over the results. In the meantime I toured a school with a learning support program embedded in it. It was the only private school around I could find with one implemented. I walked away impressed, but also with the knowledge there’s no way I could afford it without a scholarship. The principal said that was a common response and handed me the financial aid packet as well as addresses of preschools nearby in case I wanted to move my son to ease the commute.
Well, after delay after delay after delay, I am finally headed back to the psychologist tomorrow for the results. The original plan was for us to meet two weeks later, on April 17th. Testing was April 3rd. However, the paper work required from her teacher took 3 weeks to come back. I should have followed my first instinct to hand deliver the package. The doctor for valid reasons preferred to mail it to the school.
After all was said and done, this conversation was delayed 2 weeks. Here we are in May. This discussion is basically going to decide where my daughter goes to school in the fall and I have been more than frustrated. I have not been able to get back in touch with the lady from the school I toured last month because I have nothing new for her and this also delays her being evaluated for the program they offer and me being able to apply for a scholarship, which we will definitely need. I did however, manage to get her a seat at the public school I wanted. It’s two minutes away from my son’s daycare. If we end up there, I’ll add therapy at a local center. My pastor (knowing how much the school means to us), wants to get her what she needs. I appreciate it, but I am just not sure if he has the time to do so and we can’t go through another year like we have.
In the meantime work has been crazy and my daughter has had some stellar moments and some not so stellar moments at school and at home. She has however begun to do her homework without supervision. I didn’t worry as much about the correctness of it as I normally do because I didn’t want to take away from her taking the steps to do her homework without me an inch away.
Last night even I called to her so we could prepare for a history quiz and she yelled back, “I’m already studying!” I peeked and there she was, sitting, history book open. While she took a break I wrote down the study questions the teacher had emailed to the parents and let her go on her own again. She didn’t mind. That’s a change from saying she needed me next to her. She may or may not do well on this quiz, but I won’t let that take away from her studying on her own. It’s a step right?
I feel for her. I know she has tried. Her friends mean a lot to her and while they have been supportive, there have also been some comments on all of the crying she does during the day. I don’t know if it is fatigue at this point, but she’s had more episodes of frustration and crying in the last month and so have I. She’s 9 years-old now. She had a birthday last week. We celebrated surrounded by family and friends and I didn’t experience the crash that normally follows hitting yet another milestone without her father. But as I move forward however slowly I can’t help but feel I lack the fortitude I need now. No matter what the doctor says tomorrow, there are going to be a lot of adjustments to our lives. Not the least of which is a possible change in schools, which is not the least bit welcome in her world. She’ll make friends wherever she goes, but I’m bracing myself for the ride during the adjustment. I will make a small mountain of decisions to make once I find out the extent of what she will need.
Challenges in everyday life whether they are large or small magnify the loneliness in my life. Reading that 1 out of every 10 students has a learning challenge hasn’t helped that. Knowing that I have to make whatever changes I need to make for her good haven’t helped that. Reminding myself that the hell we have been through would have crushed a lot of people hasn't quite helped that. I have reached the point where I have faith we can overcome what we face. I do however feel as if I have been swimming upstream for the better part of the last seven years. I’m smarter, more compassionate, and in a lot of ways a better person from the journey. I’m also flat out tired. The answer to my original question: Can I do it? I can. I will. I have to.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Two Years Without Daddy: Intense Emotions
My Facebook post for today:
2 years…what to say today. I had few words back then. I still remember every intense emotion during the illness, everything the day you left and every intense emotion since. I know our life made me a survivor. Thank God. Today I feel tired, but like I’ll push forward. I’m sad, but grateful. I’m humbled, but accomplished. Last night I thought it can’t really have been 2 years. Then I heard, “Mom, I need help” and realized it was not Ariana, but Elijah calling. The baby you left with me is a child. And I’m a lot different than the woman I was that day. Still, Ariana feels you’d be proud and I agree with her. RIP
And I do remember every intense emotion. That is how I would describe me today. Everything I feel that I eluded to in my Facebook post, I intensely feel it. With foresight I had originally planned to leave town later today and spend the weekend away with the children. It wasn’t to do anything unique, just to get out of town. But then I had a week long training I had to attend for my job that required me to be at work at different hours than are normal for me. For one entire work week I had to be here by 9am and stay until 5pm. I generally arrive at work at 7:30 and leave at 3:30 so that I don’t have to pay for after school care and to give us the time we need to finish Ariana’s homework. This training though meant Ariana had to go to after school care and because the dates of the training (February 27th through March 2nd), covered 2 calendar months, it meant (due to the rules) I had to pay for 2 months of it to the tune of $160. There went the get-a-way money.
In the end it didn’t matter as Ariana has homework this weekend and so do I. We have our ups and downs with her challenges. Last week she took a make-up history quiz and got a perfect score on it. Still has a bit of test anxiety though.
Ariana’s Black History project was major. One page report, a visual display with pictures, and an oral presentation on the assigned person. I actually got physically ill (I think from something I ate) the night we were finishing it, but that allowed me to take a sick day the next day to attend her presentation. All of the children did well considering 1/3 of the elementary school was there to watch them. Could be a lot for an 8 year-old. With the sensory issue in her fingers the one page report was a challenge, but she met it. We did the research and I took notes, then from that she wrote the paper in her own hand. We used a cardboard tri-fold to display pictures and details of the person. You could get extra credit points if you added something to your project. She had famous singer Marian Anderson so I ordered her a formal dress off ebay to wear. Got her paper back and the A+ was a welcome sight, as was the note: I also liked your outfit…10 extra credit points.
I am so tired. Work pressure is unreal being a “new-old” employee. Between training new employees get and the obligations I already had, there aren’t enough hours in the day. February wore me out and it was my own fault, but I just could not deal with his clothes being in the house any longer. I was ready to toss them out the window some days. Now I do love Elijah’s room. I added a carpet that looks like the painting of the city on his wall. It’s 4’ x 5’ and he loves rolling his cars on the streets on it. He has been much better than he was this time last year. I remembered today that last year on this date he was pretty ill. He’s grown up so much. A friend often jokes he’ll be asking for the car keys soon and there are days he seems to be changing so fast, almost too fast. He now asks for what he wants to eat by name and requests his favorite TV channel by its name too.
I’ve no choice but to push forward and even though I’m exhausted, I actually feel like pushing. The ups and downs of the last 2 years combined with Thomas’ illness have done a lot to me, but also almost made me crazy defiant against whatever might try to stop me from getting what I want. And all I want is a good life really.
This morning I sent a text to each of their Godparents thanking them for being there for us and I cried all the way to work. In hindsight I probably should have taken the day off, but it is going to take every hour of time off I can earn for us to take our summer vacation. I didn’t sleep well last night and when I woke up it was raining, but I made myself come in.
I’m intensely humbled by the experience, but have a chest pounding sense of gratitude and accomplishment looking back on it all. My faith went through the wringer but whereas I had to just know God was with me before, I can actually feel Him now and I realize it’s because I’ve allowed myself to feel Him. I’d vent then give Him my worries about money. I’d rant then give Him my worries about the children. I’ve only recently in the last few months though handed Him the pieces of my broken heart and after having it what I call stomped on for years, it’s been a process. I have realized the damage all the years of internal screaming have done. The hardest part now is patience with the rebuilding process. It means really dealing with all of those intense emotions: the anger, the fear, the sadness, the regret, the emotions of everyone around me due to the deep footprint he left here. I remember having to pull the rug out from under everybody that day while the ground seemed to shake beneath my own feet. The out-cry of everyone’s shock and sadness still rings in my ears and my daughter’s quiet tears that went through my shirt to my heart still rest there.
And every day I look into the eyes of my children. The people for whom I would lay down my own life are here every day adding life to this thing, pushing me, tiring me. They are partially the reason there are days this thing brings me to my knees but they are also the ones loving me back to my feet. My son who still has the reality of this thing ahead of him is all about fun. The eyes he inherited from me are as bright as the smile he inherited from his father. My daughter faces this with grace though she is in her words outraged about it. She’s just glad I didn’t die, but she lists all the things her father won’t be here to do and wants to know when I’m going to do something about it. That is a subject for an entirely different piece of writing. I’ll always miss Thomas. I know that. But I realize that of grief, sadness, anger, regret, fear, and the rest, the greatest of these emotions is love. From love, I’ve paid a price I would not have thought I could afford, but the bank is not broken. Bent yes, but not broken.
Rest in Peace Thomas. We won't forget you.
2 years…what to say today. I had few words back then. I still remember every intense emotion during the illness, everything the day you left and every intense emotion since. I know our life made me a survivor. Thank God. Today I feel tired, but like I’ll push forward. I’m sad, but grateful. I’m humbled, but accomplished. Last night I thought it can’t really have been 2 years. Then I heard, “Mom, I need help” and realized it was not Ariana, but Elijah calling. The baby you left with me is a child. And I’m a lot different than the woman I was that day. Still, Ariana feels you’d be proud and I agree with her. RIP
And I do remember every intense emotion. That is how I would describe me today. Everything I feel that I eluded to in my Facebook post, I intensely feel it. With foresight I had originally planned to leave town later today and spend the weekend away with the children. It wasn’t to do anything unique, just to get out of town. But then I had a week long training I had to attend for my job that required me to be at work at different hours than are normal for me. For one entire work week I had to be here by 9am and stay until 5pm. I generally arrive at work at 7:30 and leave at 3:30 so that I don’t have to pay for after school care and to give us the time we need to finish Ariana’s homework. This training though meant Ariana had to go to after school care and because the dates of the training (February 27th through March 2nd), covered 2 calendar months, it meant (due to the rules) I had to pay for 2 months of it to the tune of $160. There went the get-a-way money.
In the end it didn’t matter as Ariana has homework this weekend and so do I. We have our ups and downs with her challenges. Last week she took a make-up history quiz and got a perfect score on it. Still has a bit of test anxiety though.
Ariana’s Black History project was major. One page report, a visual display with pictures, and an oral presentation on the assigned person. I actually got physically ill (I think from something I ate) the night we were finishing it, but that allowed me to take a sick day the next day to attend her presentation. All of the children did well considering 1/3 of the elementary school was there to watch them. Could be a lot for an 8 year-old. With the sensory issue in her fingers the one page report was a challenge, but she met it. We did the research and I took notes, then from that she wrote the paper in her own hand. We used a cardboard tri-fold to display pictures and details of the person. You could get extra credit points if you added something to your project. She had famous singer Marian Anderson so I ordered her a formal dress off ebay to wear. Got her paper back and the A+ was a welcome sight, as was the note: I also liked your outfit…10 extra credit points.
I am so tired. Work pressure is unreal being a “new-old” employee. Between training new employees get and the obligations I already had, there aren’t enough hours in the day. February wore me out and it was my own fault, but I just could not deal with his clothes being in the house any longer. I was ready to toss them out the window some days. Now I do love Elijah’s room. I added a carpet that looks like the painting of the city on his wall. It’s 4’ x 5’ and he loves rolling his cars on the streets on it. He has been much better than he was this time last year. I remembered today that last year on this date he was pretty ill. He’s grown up so much. A friend often jokes he’ll be asking for the car keys soon and there are days he seems to be changing so fast, almost too fast. He now asks for what he wants to eat by name and requests his favorite TV channel by its name too.
I’ve no choice but to push forward and even though I’m exhausted, I actually feel like pushing. The ups and downs of the last 2 years combined with Thomas’ illness have done a lot to me, but also almost made me crazy defiant against whatever might try to stop me from getting what I want. And all I want is a good life really.
This morning I sent a text to each of their Godparents thanking them for being there for us and I cried all the way to work. In hindsight I probably should have taken the day off, but it is going to take every hour of time off I can earn for us to take our summer vacation. I didn’t sleep well last night and when I woke up it was raining, but I made myself come in.
I’m intensely humbled by the experience, but have a chest pounding sense of gratitude and accomplishment looking back on it all. My faith went through the wringer but whereas I had to just know God was with me before, I can actually feel Him now and I realize it’s because I’ve allowed myself to feel Him. I’d vent then give Him my worries about money. I’d rant then give Him my worries about the children. I’ve only recently in the last few months though handed Him the pieces of my broken heart and after having it what I call stomped on for years, it’s been a process. I have realized the damage all the years of internal screaming have done. The hardest part now is patience with the rebuilding process. It means really dealing with all of those intense emotions: the anger, the fear, the sadness, the regret, the emotions of everyone around me due to the deep footprint he left here. I remember having to pull the rug out from under everybody that day while the ground seemed to shake beneath my own feet. The out-cry of everyone’s shock and sadness still rings in my ears and my daughter’s quiet tears that went through my shirt to my heart still rest there.
And every day I look into the eyes of my children. The people for whom I would lay down my own life are here every day adding life to this thing, pushing me, tiring me. They are partially the reason there are days this thing brings me to my knees but they are also the ones loving me back to my feet. My son who still has the reality of this thing ahead of him is all about fun. The eyes he inherited from me are as bright as the smile he inherited from his father. My daughter faces this with grace though she is in her words outraged about it. She’s just glad I didn’t die, but she lists all the things her father won’t be here to do and wants to know when I’m going to do something about it. That is a subject for an entirely different piece of writing. I’ll always miss Thomas. I know that. But I realize that of grief, sadness, anger, regret, fear, and the rest, the greatest of these emotions is love. From love, I’ve paid a price I would not have thought I could afford, but the bank is not broken. Bent yes, but not broken.
Rest in Peace Thomas. We won't forget you.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
February, the Longest Short Month on the Calendar
I am grateful to have survived it.
Now, I didn’t plan it this way, it just happened. But I realized this was a hard month last year. Actually it pretty much kicked my behind. As soon as the month came in this year, I felt the grief monster approaching. Everybody knows Valentine’s Day is in February. Thomas and I were married six days later on February 20th, so a "would be" wedding anniversary was in the mix. So what did I do? I added to it. Brilliant I know. I moved Elijah into his room because I’d progressed through the mountain of clothing Thomas left enough to order his bed. It came on February 1st and I put it up that night.
Ariana and I divided up Thomas’ hats and neckties and gave them out to fathers I know. There were thirty hats even though I’d already given twenty away. There were seventy neckties even though my stepson had taken some home with him after the funeral. I gave a co-worker nineteen of his suits for her husband, who may be the only man in the world I could find who could wear Thomas' size in both a jacket and pants. It turned out this man was down to one suit and two neck ties because he had given his suits to men who had none.
These were his nicest suits and as I went through them I found a lot of them I brought home.Getting those made him feel good and I was so inept at doing that the last few years, I fell back on that a lot…getting him suits and other clothing. They all went. I kept a couple of dress shirts and sweatshirts, and an overcoat I bought. I’m keeping one suit, the one he was wearing in our last family picture. The one he was buried in is the one he said was his favorite.
So, I completed removal of all of the clothing last month. I found I was almost in desperation mode. Some people find the person’s clothes a source of comfort, and they were at first, but now not so much. I’m keeping some items, but the rest perhaps because of the sheer volume of it, started to feel as if they are closing in on me. He told me he wanted them donated, so I had no doubts about what I was doing. I’ve heard year one is “he’s dead” and year two is “he’s still dead”, and that is how it has been here. There are days I can’t believe it still. There are days I’m really relieved the suffering is over and others where I really want to smack the little stinker for dying on me.
It got real. Oh it’s definitely real. I put Elijah’s name on the door of the room formally known as the man cave and even though some of the clothes were still there, he slept in there for the better part of the first two nights after the bed was up. I put those boxes in a corner as far as I could, then went down to a closet, opened it and found eight more suits. Holy Cow! How did that happen? Yeah, gonna need another box. That will make 8 of U-Haul’s largest boxes. Final removal of the four boxes I had at the end was on February 9th, courtesy of the children's Godfather coming to the house to retrieve them while I was at work.
The month was again threatening to kick my behind, but I figured I’d kick back. Got on facebook and posted about what I was doing and how I remembered getting those suits was how I showed Thomas I was into him. I asked every couple to think back on what they do to show their spouse they’re into them and try to do it up starting this month. Because I know for a long time, I missed and still do miss having someone “into me” and Thomas wanted his struggle to help people. And when asked if I minded what we went through being used for ministry, I was fine with it. A lot of times we didn’t have the tools to make our relationship grow or if we did we couldn’t use them, but for people who do have them, I do truly hope they use them.
It's made more difficult being it is very close to the anniversary of his death. He died seventeen days after our tenth wedding anniversary, seventeen days after he gave me a last speech of hope that I tried unsuccessfully to take in at the moment. All we had left at the end was our friendship, but I still miss that. Reality has set in that he’s not coming back, but it is also setting in that I’m every bit the survivor he was pushing me (sometimes against my will) to be. February still kicked my behind, but not without a fight.
And that other anniversary? Yeah, it's tomorrow.
Now, I didn’t plan it this way, it just happened. But I realized this was a hard month last year. Actually it pretty much kicked my behind. As soon as the month came in this year, I felt the grief monster approaching. Everybody knows Valentine’s Day is in February. Thomas and I were married six days later on February 20th, so a "would be" wedding anniversary was in the mix. So what did I do? I added to it. Brilliant I know. I moved Elijah into his room because I’d progressed through the mountain of clothing Thomas left enough to order his bed. It came on February 1st and I put it up that night.
Ariana and I divided up Thomas’ hats and neckties and gave them out to fathers I know. There were thirty hats even though I’d already given twenty away. There were seventy neckties even though my stepson had taken some home with him after the funeral. I gave a co-worker nineteen of his suits for her husband, who may be the only man in the world I could find who could wear Thomas' size in both a jacket and pants. It turned out this man was down to one suit and two neck ties because he had given his suits to men who had none.
These were his nicest suits and as I went through them I found a lot of them I brought home.Getting those made him feel good and I was so inept at doing that the last few years, I fell back on that a lot…getting him suits and other clothing. They all went. I kept a couple of dress shirts and sweatshirts, and an overcoat I bought. I’m keeping one suit, the one he was wearing in our last family picture. The one he was buried in is the one he said was his favorite.
So, I completed removal of all of the clothing last month. I found I was almost in desperation mode. Some people find the person’s clothes a source of comfort, and they were at first, but now not so much. I’m keeping some items, but the rest perhaps because of the sheer volume of it, started to feel as if they are closing in on me. He told me he wanted them donated, so I had no doubts about what I was doing. I’ve heard year one is “he’s dead” and year two is “he’s still dead”, and that is how it has been here. There are days I can’t believe it still. There are days I’m really relieved the suffering is over and others where I really want to smack the little stinker for dying on me.
It got real. Oh it’s definitely real. I put Elijah’s name on the door of the room formally known as the man cave and even though some of the clothes were still there, he slept in there for the better part of the first two nights after the bed was up. I put those boxes in a corner as far as I could, then went down to a closet, opened it and found eight more suits. Holy Cow! How did that happen? Yeah, gonna need another box. That will make 8 of U-Haul’s largest boxes. Final removal of the four boxes I had at the end was on February 9th, courtesy of the children's Godfather coming to the house to retrieve them while I was at work.
The month was again threatening to kick my behind, but I figured I’d kick back. Got on facebook and posted about what I was doing and how I remembered getting those suits was how I showed Thomas I was into him. I asked every couple to think back on what they do to show their spouse they’re into them and try to do it up starting this month. Because I know for a long time, I missed and still do miss having someone “into me” and Thomas wanted his struggle to help people. And when asked if I minded what we went through being used for ministry, I was fine with it. A lot of times we didn’t have the tools to make our relationship grow or if we did we couldn’t use them, but for people who do have them, I do truly hope they use them.
It's made more difficult being it is very close to the anniversary of his death. He died seventeen days after our tenth wedding anniversary, seventeen days after he gave me a last speech of hope that I tried unsuccessfully to take in at the moment. All we had left at the end was our friendship, but I still miss that. Reality has set in that he’s not coming back, but it is also setting in that I’m every bit the survivor he was pushing me (sometimes against my will) to be. February still kicked my behind, but not without a fight.
And that other anniversary? Yeah, it's tomorrow.
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