There is loss and then there is Loss. There is grief and then there is Grief. What differentiates between the two? Is solely the connection between the two people. Or do you factor in the journey to death, the story behind the loss? Is it worse to have the knowledge the you are dying? Or is that fact harder on the ones surrounding you? Is it worse to not have the chance to say goodbye to those that are left?

I have been a bit shocked to have experience levels of sorrow and depression this year that would rival the first month of her passing. It rattled my brain and my body. It has been 2 years, and yet, there were moments this past week when I couldn’t exhale without tears and crying. I can look back at the last year and see very few moments of sadness. I could talk about her without any emotion, no tears, not even watering. I could recollect tough times in our relationship almost from the outside looking in. Those on the receiving end of my verbal recollection would react with tears and sniffles while I stood there unphased by what I was saying.

Death is a crazy thing. It makes people behave to the antithesis of their character. They make terrible choices in grief. They can’t think clearly, the grief masking reality, marring their ability to anticipate consequences. Sometimes they chose to forget all that they knew when their loved one was living. That which brought closeness in the last stage of death or in the birth of the grief is gone.

Grief is cyclical. There is no reasoning to the cycles, when they appear, their order, their presentation. Grief circles are sometimes small and sometimes all encompassing. They arrive in the form of anger, sadness, depression and even antipathy.

I am sure that there are a few in my midst who think that I should be over it by now. Controlled in my sorrow and grief and memories managed.

Is suffering comparable?

Does any one really know the levels of another person’s sorrow?

Signs of a Lighter Heart

A tough week last week. I didn't write much, didn't think much past my own sorrow. I am working on getting back into the groove this week. Much of the sadness is behind me which actually is very interesting. I mean, does a passing day really make that much difference? Topic for future post.

A habit I am trying to establish is to make a list of what brings me happiness and joy on a regular basis. Focusing on the positive, not the negative. Gains instead of losses. God's blessings even if small. And so...here it is:

1. "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor. I recently heard this song on the radio and not only did it pump me up in a major way, it brought back a flood of wonderful memories of my year in the Netherlands with a group of girls (I call all my friend girls) that are still very close to my heart. That song was our mantra while being immersed in a different culture, far from home and families. A remix of the song was very popular in the bars that year and so we belted it out regularly. But, this time I also heard myself singing it in a new light. Instead of singing this to my independent spirit (the original intent by Ms. Gaynor), I sang this song to my grief, loneliness and depression which seemed to appear with such force I was knocked to the ground. Here is a snippet of the lyrics for those that don't remember.

and so you're back
from outer space
I just walked in to find you here
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me

Go on now go walk out the door
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
you think I'd crumble
you think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
as long as i know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
and I'll survive
I will survive

2. Loving little Dixie, our dachshund puppy. She has brought such delight to my day, despite the lack to total house training and even a bout of vomiting. I could let her sleep with me, curled up, every night. I just found her snoozing on top of a laundry basket full of dirty clothes sitting in the sunlight.

3. A scarf. I received this scarf just the other day. It is made from Ansley's clothes. The first Christmas after her death, I had a lady make Colby and Gray quilts of their mother's clothing. Anyone who knew Ansley is well aware of her eclectic and fashion-forward taste in clothing. The quilts were amazing. There was enough material left for 3 more quilts so intended to have more made for my own 3. Last week the quilts arrived along with several surprises - 2 teddy bears and 2 scarves. They are gorgeous and I think my new wardrobe will consist mainly of blues and browns in order to wear the scarf every day.

4. My little Sadie, with her two front teeth missing. I can't look at her without smiling, no matter what is coming out of her mouth. Well, almost.

5. My little Lily's acceptance of a new discipline technique, the marble jars. Thanks, Beth, for that suggestion. She is working so hard at changing her whining, crying and fit throwing. I am amazed at the changes in a mere 4 days. Chuck E. Cheese, here we come. Ok, so that is NOT on my list of happy thoughts, but it is her reward once the jar is full of marbles.

6. My little Ethan's request to snuggle, even at age 8. I went out of town for the night on Valentine's Day. Upon my return, he just wanted to sit close to me with his head on my shoulder and talk.

7. My friends. Yes, you! What an outpouring of thoughts, well-wishes and love on Friday. I felt very, very blessed and loved on a day when I was floundering in the deep. Never underestimate the impact this can have on someone.

8. Peanut Butter pie. Had a divine slice at the beach. Whipped, light, pb mousse with an oreo cookie crust, topped with chocolate morsels. Sinful.

9. The squirrel is OUTTA HERE! A week ago Jay fixed the squirrel cage to a wooden squirrel box he had fastened to a tree. We let the squirrel get acclimated to his new surroundings for a week. On Saturday, Jay removed the bottom of the cage so the squirrel would be able to roam, forage and most likely get eaten at his leisure. I know, I am terrible.

10. And, finally, but not least by any measure, my forgiveness. Over the past several months I have allowed my mind to move away from Him and onto earthly things. It has been more than a struggle. It has been soul wrenching. I brought it to Him over the weekend and well, you guys know. I am back in the fold. Still working out the details, but definitely moving back to where I need to be. God is good!

Thoughts in grief

Today is ok.
I am going to be ok.
This is not as bad as I thought.
I will keep myself busy.
I hope so-and-so doesn't call.
I hope so-and-so does call.
Only one winner.
Why didn't he say anything?
Who has forgotten her?
What was her smell?
Is she really gone?
Why can't I get anything done.
Why did I make an impossible task?
Why do I cry upon exhaling?
Why is there no laughter?
I want to laugh.
I don't want looks.
I don't want pity.
I want her.
Today is ok.
I am going to be ok.
Maybe.

I don't have much to say. At least not here. My writing has taken a definite leap into deeper and some what darker places. One day maybe these private entries will find their way into some sort of novel or article, who knows?

I am gearing up for Friday. Two years she will have been gone. Much more emotional this year. I am not very stable and well, for someone who LOVES control, this is somewhat of a death statement.

I spent this weekend with some ladies from our church at a retreat. It was very relaxing, full of wonderful teaching and as predicted...emotional. I had quite a bit of mental distraction going on so I am not sure that I fully inhaled what was presented. Maybe just a whiff here and there. But, in the midst of it all, I asked my friend, Beth, who I met when we were both pregnant with our second children, nearly 8 years ago if I would be considered a "crier," you know, emotional. Her emphatic answer, "NO! But, you should be."

I concluded that because it seems I cannot walk around these days without a tissue, I am in fact, going through "something." This is not the first something, but a cycle that seems to have started when she was still alive and has become more frequent since her passing.

Another conclusion I have drawn is that I am beyond being able to get this under control using only my abilities. Challenging my independent self to the core. This is extraordinarily painful to admit. I hate myself for all the times I looked at someone "emotional" and thought why can't they just pull it together? Just, "suck it up." Wow. Get a load of that mercy. Think there is an award out there for the most merciless person on the planet. Some things are truly out of one person's control.

Plans are in place to help me, aid and assist me in this journey and for once, I welcome them with arms wide open.

A February Conversation

Pushing Lily on the swing at the playground. The air is tepid, not too warm. The weather tempting and teasing us as leaves are not yet on the trees. Buds have not yet even formed on the branches – still barren and harsh, jagged. Exposed. Her hair in two pigtails, tied up in white bands. The fine wisps of hair framing her face, floating like feathers in the breeze…dancing in rhythm with the movement of the swing. Back and forth. In and out.

Lily talks and sings. Her made up little melody sweet and discordant. I don’t care. It is joyful to me.

She asks: Mommy, when I grow up, I marry Keegan?
Me: Well, why do you want to marry him?
Innocently, she answers, "Because he is nice to me. And, he lets me play pirates with him on the playground. Can I marry him?
Me: Lily, you have to be a grown-up to get married.
Lily: Some in my class are 5. I am not 5.
Me: That’s right, but you will be 5 soon enough.
Lily: Why does it take so long to grow-up?
Me: It will be here soon enough. Being little is great, Lily." I wanted to add, it is easy and simple, but she will know that herself soon enough.
Lily: I want to be a grown-up.
Me: Why?
Lily Because you are a grown up, Mommy. And, I love you.
If only life stayed so sweet and innocent.

Scraping and clawing at the dirt
She cultivates life's needs
Fingers nimbly work and are
dirty and moist.

Roots and twigs entangle
Jagged rocks cut and bruise
Black, thick mud fills
the time worn wrinkles of her hands.

She sits exhausted and consumed
The work more than she planned
Sweat beads on her brow
She sits back on her soiled knees.

Her face raises to the sun
Its warmth fills her
Her eyes close in response
the heat pouring over her face and body.

She leans back
arching her neck
She is satisfied.

She feels the coolness of the earth
between her toes and her eyes open
the work is always before her
Her hands dig deep, toiling once again.

I'm Leaving On a Jet Plane

Ok, so not really. I am not leaving on a "jet plane," but I am leaving in Jay's Suburban for a women's retreat in Myrtle Beach this weekend. I am looking forward to lots of cackling and clucking as the hen party commences.

I remember the first time I had a weekend away after having been a stay at home mom for a couple of years. It was to the Celo Inn for a weekend of scrapbooking with my sister and dear friends Robin, Amy and Amanda. I was the last one to be picked-up because I was "on the way." When the car pulled into the driveway I ran out the door and seriously squealed and screamed. I was that thrilled, overwhelmed and over the moon to have a break from the daily grind. But that was many years ago and now that children are older, I don't seem to want that whole weekend away any more. Just a day or two. I miss them.

And here is one reason why:

This week, Ethan was chosen to have a list of compliments made about him by his class. And, here they are - note the theme:
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan eats everything.
Ethan is very funny and crazy.
Ethan is very crazy and cool.
Ethan is really funny.
Ethan is fun and funny.
Ethan is very funny, talkative, and smart.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is super funny.
Ethan is smart
Ethan is a very good friend.
Ethan is very funny.
Ethan is very, very, very funny.

I will save this list so that when he is having a bad day, he can read it and know that in 3rd grade being funny is probably one of the best character traits as defined by his peers.

I know I have written a bit about my ridiculous infatuation with Rock Band drumming. But, part of that craziness is that I play it with Ethan. It is "our thing." Our band, Weesnog, was aptly picked from a Sponge Bob reference. When we are on, baby, we rock. We have these discussions about the level of difficulty, our ability to play, even pains we incur from playing our instruments. And when we get that last power play and in unison, bang that last note...it is all high fives, smiles and "Yeahs!"

Older children are fun. And as the above referenced song continues, "Oh babe, I hate to go."