Today I sang....

sang a song.  Sang out loud, sang out long.  I didn't matter if wasn't good enough for anyone else to hear...  Top of my lungs in my van as I drove home from Mattoon.  It was sunny and bright outside.  It felt good.  It broke my heart and made it soar all at once.  I sang through the tears as they came.  I laughed through songs that reminded me of her.  I am so thankful for the joy that my mother left for us.  She sang and laughed, danced and joked.  She watched the schilldren like they were TV and then would recount their antics to me as if I'd not been in the same room. Joy is underrated and overlooked.  Thank you Momma for all the gifts you are still giving me!



written on 8/17/2012

Brave.

It's a simple word.  A word I sometimes take for granted.  Joshypot climbed a deer stand and I cheered and praised how 'brave' he was just a few days ago.  Kaity will try a new food and I let her know how brave she is to try something foreign.  Today I saw the definition of brave in my sweet Saracita Bonita.  She decided to move in with us and today we set out for home from Mattoon.  Mattoon was the only place Sarah has ever lived.  She loaded all her things into boxes last week and Jeremy brought them here.  She grew up going to school with the same set of friends and I think that as a military brat I discount the value and weight in that.  Today I watched her come 'home' to a place she had never even seen.  She wasn't coming to a place that she'd spent her weekends or holidays.  She'd spent them with the people living in the house but the house itself was totally new.  New state.  New house.  New town.  New normal.  She walked around and took it all in.  It wasn't what she expected, I don't know that anything would have been.  She is brave.  She is strong and smart and determined.  I am in awe of her guts. 

Wide awake at 430 am...

is  simply not cool.  It is made even less cool since at 1130 I took an ambien.  I've used ambien on occasion for years.  1 prescription would last about a year. I took them to break the cycle of a headache or the cycle of insomnia following a rash of headaches.  I called them my suspended animation pills, I would take them and then suddenly it was 8ish hours later and I felt amazing.  As of last night I have taken them for 23 days in a row.  I am typically pretty drug sensitive so for it to not work makes me feel totally uncomfortable.  I am done.  I will lay in bed awake.  I will let my mind race and my heart ache instead of copping out with my suspended animation.  I guess know I will have to learn to fall asleep w/o it and I am not looking forward to that AT ALL.  I am blessed with a fantastic husband who will rub my back or my feet until I fall asleep when I am having a rough go of life.  I am in Mattoon handling appointments and issues from my moms death so I have 1 more sleep w/o Capt Fantastic here to aid in the falling asleep process.  I will have to settle for a warm shower and a dark room.  I think the ambien allowed me a certain degree of numb.  It helped the nights be less lonely.  I would call my mom (or she would call me) at all hours of the night just because we remembered something we'd forgotten to tell the other in our last conversation.  I still have those "oh I need to call mom to..." moments.  I've even dialed her number a time or two.   Yesterday I drove from Janesville to Mattoon all alone.  That would have meant a 4 hr phone call to my mom just a few weeks ago.  This time it was a sharp reminder of the *why* for my trip to Mattoon.  I called a few people and talked for a few minutes.  I called a few others and talked a few more.  I spent the majority of the time in the silence.  Singing along to the radio.  Maneuvering in the periods of heavy rain.   Feeling the sadness of knowing I couldn't talk to her and hear her voice and know she had my back.  To be snarky and silly and just be raw.  I'd already started shopping for her for Christmas...that stings.  My faith is solid, I am sure she is with Jesus in heaven praising God and whole.  The part of me that hurts is the flesh of me.  The part of me that is sad is the selfish part of me that would rather her be her than there.  It's quite a conflict really.  To be content in spirit and tormented by emotion.  Even as I find myself crying I realize her position and tears slow.  It's when I think of all that I will miss, that my babies will miss, that my siblings will miss.  THAT is where my hurt is and my tears are torrential.  I know that I have busy-ed my way to a spot where I don't have to fully deal with the emotional part of her passing.  I am a little afraid of what happens when everything is settled.  When the boys are in Colorado.  When the hurry up and wait game of her death is finished and squared away.  When the only thing left is to acknowledge the lack of gingerbread and snowmen. Oh my momma I love you.  You were supposed to come and live with us, we made plans. We looked at houses.  I felt like it was my prize, I *got* you to live in our house and I wouldn't have to stuff all our fun into the weekend.  I love you I love you I love you I love you...how many times can I say it until I feel like I've said it enough? 

Sundowning....

I feel like I have the mourning version of Alzheimer's.  I am okay during the day, even happy on occasion.  We tease and joke and carry on like things are normal.  Like Mom is at work or in the other room.  Then all of the sudden it's evening.  Evening starts the ache in full force.  I long for her. her voice.  her laugh.  her smile.  just her.  It feels surreal, I can't believe it has happened.  I can't wrap my mind around the fact that she was alive and now she's not.  That she had a happily ever planned with us and now we are picking up pieces and trying to construct the puzzle of our future when all the edges are missing.  How do you do thanksgiving? Christmas? how do you just carry on? How can I celebrate when I can barely breathe.  I hate the sunset. I loathe the night.  The darkness makes it worse.  I don't want to revisit sad with people who are still processing.  I want to be irrationally angry and frustrated and kick things and tantrum.  I want to have an outlet that exhausts this sadness. I want to not feel panic as 5pm rolls around.  To dread laying in bed because there are no distractions.  Nothing to fill the time between my head hitting the pillow and actually falling asleep.  I always tell my babies to not 'borrow trouble' to deal with today today and let tomorrow handle itself.  I am trying to remember that. To just handle the waves of sadness and the loss one moment at a time. There are so many things looming.  So many details that need to be handled and issues to be dealt with.  What will I do when there isn't a list of to-do?  When there isn't something to manage or fix?  What will I do when it's just me alone with my sad?  She was everywhere....in every corner of my life.  I pray that eventually it comforts me.  Right now it just taunts me, reminding me of what is beyond my grasp.  I love her so much it hurts.  I mourn so deeply I am numb.  I am afraid of how comfortable the numbness is and how much I want to allow it to stay instead of fighting through to the hurt. 

2 weeks.

I feel hollow today.  I realized it's been 2 weeks.  That is a measurable amount of time.  It's not yesterday or a few days ago.  It's a chunk of time and it feels like the span of a second.  When I stop to actually think about it, to process and feel it, I can't breathe.  Not deeply.  I was getting Sarah & Alex all squared away with as many insurance requiring needs since tomorrow they no longer have coverage and was plotting and planning my next move when I realized that I had started driving to my mommas house.  I was supposed to be going to my cousins where we are staying.  I was on autopilot.  My momma is my go-to and she is gone.  It instantly made me well up with tears. My sweet Kaity is so in tune with me.  She stands a little closer, asks if I need a drink.  Doesn't ask my feelings but says things like "I know Momma, me too" or "I love you" which makes me proud of her and makes it worse all at once.  Joshua and I were walking through the county fair a few days ago, talking and being silly.  He looked over his shoulder and then hastened his steps and started getting frustrated. 'I need to get out of here, get me out of here now!' I didn't understand but we started to hurry, he looked and nodded to a display on the side of the show barn.  It was a table of Tupperware style containers that had a sign that said "not your grandma's storage solutions" Simply seeing the word makes him sad.  Today we were at the pharmacy getting prescriptions filled and he caught sight of the section for "grandson" and tears welled up in his big blue eyes.  Again with his fingers chasing away the tears almost before they ever hit his cheeks.  He is defiant in his sadness and soft as he steps next to his sister.  He acts out as soon as he gets sad so he gets into trouble as it's easier to be in trouble than it is to feel.  I didn't realize that at first.  I see it now, it's hard to juggle his naughty when I know the reason. 
Jeremy left on Friday to go up to Janesville because he had to stand call on Saturday.  He worked Monday through Wednesday and will be back late tomorrow night.  I miss him but honestly have been so busy staying busy that it's been more bearable than I thought it would be.  I felt like a jerk when he told me he was lonely tonight and didn't like being by himself.  I didn't even think of that.  I was worried of how I would deal with out him, I didn't think about how he would deal without us. 
Mostly I just want to call my Mom. I want to tell her about my day. I want to complain about the heat and laugh about the schilldren.  She was supposed to come and live with us.  We were going to start house hunting.  What little house hunting we've done has always been Gramma tested.  Joshypot dismissed a house right away because it had to many steps for his gramma's knee that sometimes hurt.  It simply unequivocally sucks.  I want to tantrum like a child and kick and scream and pout but I know it will do nothing and require more energy than I currently possess. 
And then I am at peace. I know she is with Jesus.  I know she is reunited with my Daddy, with her parents. I know she is whole and happy.  I find comfort in that and my heart is not sad.  I am not sad for her.  I am not uneasy with her final destination.  It makes me feel selfish to be sad.  Such a conflict.  Thankfully sleep will come soon and I will get a reprieve from the thinking of it all. 

On a side note I've woken up the past 2 mornings with the same song in my head, I can't remember it right now but it is my moms song. I just know it.

My mom is dead. My mom died. My mom passed away.

I am trying to find the way that it feels right coming out of my mouth.  There isn't one.  It feels awkward and wrong no matter what words I use.  It doesnt seem real. The words are bitter and sharp no matter how I say them.  I watch my babies mourn and it takes my breath away.  People who know me know that I don't do crying babies.  I comfort.  I jostle.  I distract.  I find myself back in that place from when they were infants.  Trying to find the right combo of it all to take their minds off of their current pain.  Kaity has made herself physically ill from sobbing.  She has wept silently when she thought we were all asleep.  I don't know which is more heartbreaking.  Joshypot is angry.  So. very. angry.  He is frustrated at the mourning.  He is annoyed with the crying.  Until he can't hold it any longer.  Then as he pushes the tears across his face with his grubby little boychild hands as my heart aches.  I remember angry.  I felt angry when my dad died.  I was angry for years.  I don't want my boychild to be angry for years. 
I feel like I can't breathe.  My chest aches, my heart is heavy, my stomach is twisted.  It makes me want to insulate myself.  To not love anybody. To not feel this hurt ever again.  And then I remember how she laughed.  How she built crutches for those she loved to excuse our stupidity. our youth.  our delivery when our intention wasn't realized.  How her hands felt when she hugged us tight or massaged away the worry from my neck.  Then I realize how lucky I am to have had a champion, a cheerleader, a friend, a confidant, a prayer warrior, and encourager. How her love was what made her those things.  Her willingness to be real and raw and invested.  I do want to love.  I do want to care.  I already do.  How can you not when you spend your life being loved and cared about?

Moving on up......

to Wisconsin that is!  We have officially changed our address and joined our cheeseheaded roots.  I have to admit that being an air force brat I have always thought that roots were a little overrated.  Things that people clung to when they didn't embrace adventure.  When they didn't understand the beauty of the next move.  I fell in love with a man who has a hometown.  A single place.   For his entire life.  In the beginning of our relationship I had a hard time seeing that a a positive, it made me instantly claustrophobic.  I couldn't imagine one place...a single place....FOREVER. Fast forward about a decade and a half and my feelings have changed.  Jeremy is retiring from the Navy after 20 years and we were searching for a home town.  We have moved into a rental as we are settling into the area and will start shopping for a house in the fall.  If you know me at all the fact that I am eagerly looking forward to house hunting is, in itself, an amazing thing. 
Picking a place to live blindly is a huge gamble.  Before if we moved someplace and didn't love it we knew there was always the option of moving in just a few  years.  And if we were stuck at least we were stuck at the hands of the Navy and could lament and complain and blame and it wasn't OUR fault.  There is something to be said for not having to own the location choice.  We have prayed for our post Navy location for years.  We wanted to be in Wisconsin for the veteran benefits.  We wanted to be roughly the same distance from my family so they could come and visit (read: my Momma could still come for the weekend OFTEN).  We wanted a job for Jeremy at a place he would love.  God answered all of those with our move to Janesville.  We decided to wait a year to buy a house so we could find the neighborhood we wanted and get our bearings a bit.  That meant we needed a place to live in the interim.  3 bedroom rentals that allowed pets were REALLY hard to find.  We made THREE trips to house hunt each turning up empty.  On the 4th trip we found our house.  It was a little difficult to see the potential as it was filled with another persons belongings.  And then it was a solid month before we saw it again empty to move in to it.  In that month it got bigger, shined in the sun as the clouds parted and birds chirped. When we got the keys I had tears in my eyes.  Not from the fact we were finally in a spot after almost 8 weeks.  Not that we were officially starting our new adventure.  Not that 'home town' was just around the corner from us and our roots were starting to spread.  No, I cried because it was filthy.  We saw the true house, empty w/o the distraction of belongings.  Seriously, it was horrible.  I don't have much of a poker face and the schilldren saw the first raw reaction to the filth.  They saw the tears and frustration.  

"...watching....always watching...." 

If you've ever seen Monsters Inc you too will hear Roz's voice.  Usually it's a voice I reserve for people who annoy me or are frustrated with something I've done when I tell stories.  I sometimes forget that the schilldren are like a double dose of Roz as we walk through our everyday life.  Their personalities are definitely their own but I can see the impact my opinions and attitudes have made as they develop.  Sometimes it makes me wince, like this time.  Kaity teared up.  Jp got frustrated.  Then I exhaled.  I looked around and took inventory of what needed to be done.  Jeremy assured me that it would be okay, that we could make it work and I believed him.  The schilldren looked around in disbelief that it would be anything other than awful.  Jeremy was working during the day and then would come home to an evening of work to get the house ready for our personal property delivery.  I tried to get our personal property delivered early but they were not able to arrange the change because it is such a busy time for moving.  I am so thankful for that!  We had the time we needed to clean before we put our things into the house.  As we were getting started Kaity looked at me and said "We can clean dirty Momma, this house will work"   Joshy put on disposable gloves and unleashed serious elbow grease on the baseboards and braved the cobwebbed basement with us.  We spent HOURS cleaning. We scrubbed walls and floors and ceilings. We had the carpets re cleaned. We bought a new (to us, thank you craigslist) stove because the one left was beyond words and I simply couldn't cook food on it. We replaced light covers. We had the lawn tamed. We painted. We replaced hardware. Cleaned the fridge.  Hung blinds because no window had a covering.  Mostly we invested into the feeling of family.  Of roots.  Of building something better (yes we *did* spend quite a bit of time at Home Depot).   Our household goods arrived yesterday and we are engulfed in boxes that are being tamed. We are home and looking forward to getting to know our hometown..