The Crazy grumpy, cranky, and irrational.

I have been so grumpy and cranky. Honestly! The holidays are supposed to be joyful. Especially Christmas, spending time with those you love. Doing all of the fun things that go with Christmas. Making cookies, getting a tree and putting up decorations. But, for me it feels like, "Crap, Christmas is here again...well, shit!" I mean it's one thing to feel that way, however it's another to bite everyone's head off that comes into my breathing space. Even my own children. I should be making this fun for them, not making it worse. When it came time to decorate the tree I had no Christmas spirit at all! I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted someone else to just put the lights on and decorate the damn tree without me.  I didn't want to hear the kids endless chatter about where to put the ornaments, or all of the random comments and questions about special ornaments. Like "how old was I when I got this ornament, or I remember I got this when I was 3 years old." I just didn't want to participate in the whole, "I remember when" stories. I mean shouldn't I want to? And shouldn't I be happy that they can remember when they spent time with their Daddy decorating the tree? However, it was in that moment, that I just wanted no part of it. I felt bad for them, that I was such a grouch.  Yet, I could not seem to change my attitude or the thoughts that were all swirling around in my head.
  Tonight I went with a friend to Toys R Us, to go shopping for the kids. gratefully, the kids stayed at home. I was so grateful that my friend came with me to help keep me on track, and to make sure that I had an even amount of gifts for each child. So there wouldn't be arguing between siblings. However being in that store can drive a parent to drink. In fact I did come home and have a margarita! Too many toys, and too many people and too many screaming and angry children. The parents, and the kids are hot, tired, possibly hungry and everyone just wants to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.  If one is going to go into that store, one must at least be prepared with a list and at least some clue of how much one wants to spend. Forget about the idea of how much time you want to spend in there. Because it is always going to take way longer than you think it will. Luckily, I had a partner to keep me focused. Those of you who know me well, know this is a very helpful thing for me! I was fine while I was in the store, it was getting to the cash register is when I felt like I might jump off a building. I mean I had a rough estimate of how much money I was going to spend but when one hears the total, I don't think anyone, can ever be prepared enough, when shopping for three kids.
   I made it out to the car with all of my purchases, feeling like I needed to stop and ask for some oxygen on the way home. But, as my friend reminded me, it was less than last year, and It was Christmas after all. I didn't go hog wild. I got them stuff I know they will love, and things I will love watching them open. It was just the shock of it all. By the time I got home I had talked my self down enough to be calm with the kids and tell them all about my visit with Santa's elves. Or so I thought. I walked in the door and I was fine. A and P asked me about the elves and what their names were. Aryanna of course wanted to know what they were wearing and which ones were the boys and which ones were the girls. :) I gave CL a bath and started to get everyone ready for bed. That's when the irritation and grumpy came out. That obnoxious attitude, that I can't seem to stop. Almost like I was looking for a fight. I didn't get one. Instead I went outside with my friend, ranting and raving about how much money I had spent, and what it had done to my bank account. The fear that someone was going to yell at me, and how I was sure that my brother in law was going to be just irate with me in thinking I was so irresponsible. And how on top of it all I was just down right mad that I had to do it again without Pete. While feeling like a complete jackass, that I should be feeling so, grateful that I don't have to physically spend it alone again this year. That I should be so grateful, to have someone who loves me and wants to share this holiday and the ones to come with me and my kids.  My friend looked at me and said. "I am not going to give you the fight you think you deserve, I don't think you spent too much in fact I think you did pretty well in shopping for three kids."
   Even now as I sit here and type this I can't help but feel so grateful for God and the universe and Pete for bringing him into my life. Yet, why the anger? I am happy. Yet, I am not. I am still mad that he is there and I am here.  Really, that he is even there at all. That, any of this, had to happen at all. In some ways, I can finally feel like, I am getting some steady ground in my life, and then this awful crazy comes in, and it always catches me off guard. As if someone is physically pushing me down on the cold hard ground. And I never seem to brace myself for the fall. I am angry that again, I have to relive the fall. I always stand up and brush myself off. But instead of in the past, being sad and crying that I got hurt. Now it seems I am mad as hell that some idiot pushed me down. Damn him! He pushed me down again. It makes me want to fight. It makes me want to put my fist through a wall. It makes me want to scream and shout, and yell "I am going to kick your ass!"
   I can only guess this is yet another stage of grief. The Angry stage. Wonderful!! Thank you Freud. On some level I guess I haven't really been mad. I mean I have been mad at Pete. I used to put the kids in the car and then come back in the house and call him every name in the book. But it's Christmas for God's sake. And if that wasn't bad enough I realized that this year on his birthday, Which is Christmas eve, would have been his 40th birthday! Again, can I just say WTF?? His dad used to say he was the best Christmas gift ever. And he is right. He was the best Christmas gift. Another milestone. Another year. Another Christmas. Another Birthday. And the grumpy's are just wanting to rip open my chest and come jumping out of me yelling. Here I am again!! I want to throw something. I can't seem to be happy for all those lovely people and families who send me Christmas cards with pictures of their adorable family on the front. I can't take the cutesy of it all. They have what looks like the perfect family! Their husband/ daddy didn't die leaving them to pick up the pieces. Stop smiling at me. Stop looking so happy, stop rubbing it in that you have the life I used to have, stop hugging your daughter so tight, as she so lovingly looks into her daddy's eyes. She at least has a daddy to look at. My kids don't have a god damn daddy that they can physically look at!!  See what I mean? Grumpy, cranky and down right angry and not nice.
  I should  be so happy for all those lovely families that send me their families. Because I know they are just wanting me to know they are thinking of me. And that maybe by my seeing their smiley faces I will be reminded of all those people that love me, and my beautiful children. I know this. I should be so grateful, I should be so happy that I am no longer so desperately lonely, That I am no longer utterly alone all the time. I should be lucky, that I have a house and money to buy Christmas presents with, and to be surrounded by such loving friends, loved ones, and family. Yet, even though I know all of these things it doesn't stop the irrational thinking. It doesn't stop the grumpy the cranky and the bah humbug feeling just lurking below the surface. I don't wish any of my experience, my loss on anyone. I would truly hate for another family to be ripped apart by the loss of a parent, spouse, and child..
  The holiday's just bring out the crazy in all of us. The closer it gets to Christmas they crazier some people get. and in some cases, the crazier the actual crazy's get. lol  Seriously, we so often forget as families, that we are all so lucky, and so blessed. While I may be angry, I still know underneath it all, I am loved. From the crazy family Christmas cards, to the random phone calls from my mother checking on me. I am lucky that I know how to love. Love my children, love my family, love the new friends in my life. And most of all I loved Pete. And he loves me.  He taught me to love and be loved. So, while this holiday season I may be feeling a bit more crazier than usual. A bit more angry, a bit more cranky and a bit more irrational. I still know that I am lucky, that I am blessed, that I am loved, and for that I am grateful.
  

My Craziness and my own Secret Garden...

Sometimes  when I think it can't get any crazier... it does. I thought that I had made it through the big two year anniversary OK. However  the 21st was harder than I thought it would be. I guess I didn't keep myself busy enough. It seemed like the memories of that day, two years ago came in waves. I would remember something that I had forgotten. And the more I tried to think of something else happy, like say our honeymoon. The more often I found myself in his hospital room in my mind's eye. Eventually I stopped trying to change the scenario and just let the memories flow. I guess that's what they needed to do anyway. I found myself still being angry about certain parts of the day. And still remembering the last moments I had with him. Along with other crazy thoughts like "Well he would have died in two hours from now."  Morbid.. I know. Still I couldn't help but think it. I couldn't wait for that day to be over. I was so happy when bedtime rolled around. I got the kids in bed and then went straight to bed myself. Just hoping to sleep the rest of the night away. It didn't work that way. Of course! Instead CL woke up around midnight and was so restless, that I eventually put him in bed with me. Where he continued to kick me in the stomach and the head. I couldn't seem to get comfortable and when I did finally fall asleep I had nightmares. I woke up at four am hoping it was time to get up for the day. But, It wasn't. So back to sleep. More tossing and turning, more nightmares and more being kicked in the eye by my two year old. Needless to say when at last the alarm went off at 7:30am I was more than happy to get up! At last I had made it to Tuesday! It was now the 22nd and the 21st was over!
  Then Thanksgiving hit. I am very blessed it went so much better this year. The kids were not as insane. I was very happy to be with my family. And yet, it still felt like something was missing. I reminded everyone about the blood drive on Saturday in honor of Pete and hoped I would see them there. I said "Even if you can't donate just come out and say Hi!"  My in laws came into town on Friday afternoon. My mother in law had planned to help with the kids so that I could be at the blood drive. It was being held at the Fisher Y from 11-4pm on Saturday. Saturday morning rolled around and off we went to the blood drive. Had a great turn out got 23 pints of blood. could have had 33 pints but 10 people couldn't give for different reasons. Including me, I started to but the vein moved and the blood stopped flowing. But I still have the bruise to show for it. :) It was hard at first being there around all the blood and such. Again with the memories, I can remember all the blood that went into Pete, along with all the blood that came out of him as well. Which was why it was so important for me to have this blood drive in honor of him. Because while it didn't save his life it did prolong it. And for that I am forever grateful! It was nice to see all the people that came by and friends who showed their support.  After the blood drive I had a friend and her family from out of town come over for dinner. She and her husband used to live down the street from us. They would hang out with Pete and me in the driveway after the kids were in bed. Along with a good friend of Pete's and his wife and their little boy. There were 10 kids in my house along with 8 adults. It was crazy to say the least, yet fun too!
   Sunday came and my in laws had to go home. Which is always hard on all of us. It seems we just get used to having them in the house, along with the extra help, then it's time for them to go home. Aryanna doesn't like Good-byes. But she has gotten better. She at least will hug them when they leave. It wan't until Sunday after dinner did everything from the past few days hit me. I started to cry and have continued to cry today as well.  So many emotions on the surface. So many memories, and yet new beginnings. Leaving part of what feels like my "old life" and entering a new life. A part of my life I didn't know would ever exist again. The letting go, and embracing what's beautiful and right in front of me. Trying to hold onto a bit of the past and bring it with me too.  I know Pete will always be with me in spirit, and in my heart. He is not physically present. Which makes me feel in some ways like I am leaving him behind. But am I really? I am not forgetting him, I am moving forward, right? I don't think moving on is the right word. Pete is a part of who I am, so no matter how far ahead I move he will be with me in some way. Not only do I have three children who look like him, I was forever changed by him being in my life. He laid the foundation for what was to come. Yet why in so many moments in these past few days and weeks do I feel that I am saying good bye again?
    I feel like I am finally starting to see and feel the warmth of light, love and laughter. Like from the musical "The Secret Garden" When Mary finally finds the door to the secret garden, and we see her open the door and there is this beautiful brilliant light shining from the other side. And she says "I've found it, I found the door to the garden!" That's me. I feel as if I am finding a new door to my very own garden. I still have everything from before I found the door, but now I am stepping into that brilliant light. Feeling new breath in my lungs. Yet with new breath also comes new fear. And new fear sometimes causes moments of hesitations. And those hesitations could leave me standing at the door, just peeking in through the keyhole. I don't want to just peek in through the keyhole. I want to fling that door wide open and take Aryanna, Petey, and Chase Leo galloping through it, with joy and laughter.  Still I do find myself in some ways holding onto the key to that door. Putting the key into the lock and slowly and carefully turning it. hearing the click as the door unlocks. With my hand on the door,I glance over my shoulder and back to the door, slowly turning the doorknob but fear keeps me from just opening it.
    Why does fear do that? This is what I have lived for.  To find this key, to find this door. We, the kids and I have suffered, and cried, and at times been shattered into fragments of who we once were as a family. Now here we are. Gaining strength, finding our joy, and bringing laughter back into our way of everyday living. But its' me that fears and questions "am I leaving him behind?" I know with everything I have that, that is NOT what he would have wanted. For us to just stand at the edge of brilliance. If I know that, then why the tears, the fears,and the worry?  I can guess that it's another way to move through grief. To move through the loss of something so great. He and I and the kids once were such a beautiful garden. And like the musical when Lilly died so did her garden. There was no one to love it, water it, feed it, and play in it. Now there is Mary, and she has come to play in the garden and make it beautiful, all again. The way the garden once was. Beautiful and healing. Which is what Pete would have wanted. He would have wanted the kids and I to play in this wonderful garden. To be healed, to love, to laugh and remember the beauty of his essence inside this beautiful garden.
    For now,  in this moment, I stand here with my hand on the doorknob. I just need to find the courage to open the door. To see all the beauty that Pete see's. And know in my heart, that he may not be physically holding my hand, but I can feel the brush of his wings, as we gallop through the door.

  

A Crazy " if only.." thought.

Too many things about this month seem to be haunting me. The two year anniversary seems to be looming. It seems that I have already worked through the other dates and "crazy thinking."  Like for example on the 26th of October I thought "Well it's been two years since he went into the hospital..."  How many years will that date come around that I will think that thought..
   Much has happened within the past month. Lots of change but all good things. And all things that are helping the kids and I move forward. I feel that I am in a place I never thought I would be in. I feel that I have at this point much happiness in my life.  How strange it seems that 23 months ago I never thought I could have happy again. Or even have any idea of what that might look like.  However I still have so many flashbacks that at times I forget to breathe and still the same thought comes to me "If only..." Silly really in some ways, and yet it still catches me off guard. Like today, I woke up late and everything just kept going downhill. I caught myself at dinner thinking back to times when Pete was home for dinner. And how much it has changed. And yet still it is better than it was say the first few months without him.  The kids and I don't just sit around and stare at each other waiting for him to come home now. I finally have started cooking actual food again. While it may have taken me two years to do it, I at least have started.
   It was in that brief moment that I visited the past this evening did I think "if only..." Which of course never gets me anywhere other than sad. I know whats wrong with being sad? Nothing. It's just the way Sad goes about it. As if Sad is waiting around the corner as I come barreling around it; does it jump out and yell "BOO!" As if to say "Surprise, I'm back!"  The only thing to do is embrace Sad, and accept it's unexpected visit. After the kids were in bed and asleep I wondered out into the garage. I couldn't figure out why the garage door was cracked. So I opened the garage door and shut the door to the house to have a "look around." While I know this may not have been the smartest idea, in case something was hiding out there... but maybe it was just that the door didn't get shut tight. Who knows. Anyway! I went outside and walked over to Pete's workbench. I saw a drawer I hadn't seen there before. I opened it and inside was something of his I had never seen. His prayer book and his rosary. When he was growing up he was Catholic. He went to a Catholic school for elementary and Jr. High. I opened it and found out when he had his first communion. I found a note his teacher had written to him. Two cards that had saints on them. A bag that had a rosary and a cross in it. Along with a medal of sorts that said Bless our Baby.
   I picked each one up and turned them over in my hands. I thought about him as a little boy. Which made me think of Petey. Since he is the exact replica of his father. The medal is what got me. Bless our baby. Before he was mine he was someone's baby. Why did I just figure this out now.. I don't know. The thought of holding my Petey as a baby and what My mother in law see's when she thinks of my Pete as a baby. While even though Petey is only four the things I want for him is to be happy, healthy, and have a long life. Those are probably the things that my mother in law wanted for her baby boy too. It makes me come back to the "If only..."  Along with the things I didn't get to know about him. The things I can't ask him. I can't ask him if he was excited  when he received his prayer book. I can't ask him if he remembers if he his family had a party for him. Sure I can ask his mom. but I want it from his memory. I was not raised Catholic so I don't know the history or ceremonies.  The questions I can't ask but wonder about, is what makes me feel so crazy. And wonder in some ways Why this man? Or even why this little boy, that lived inside of Pete the man?
    I know, I know, The answer is still not going to change the reality. It is what it is. However it's in these moments that I find something I didn't see before, like a movie I have watched over and over and yet still I see something I missed. The memories that I have played over in my mind of us together. Of our life together. I have played them so often I would think that I wouldn't have missed something.  Yet why is it, I can't for the life of me remember the sound of his voice. Only if I think real hard about it can I hear it in my head again. I never thought I could forget something like that. Or even something as simple as his kiss. A wife would never forget that. It make me wonder, is that the minds way of healing? So that as certain things fade you  make room for more things that you are ready to re live and re learn. Or even more memories to come? Yet always, always, remembering how you felt when being in his arms. I don't know the symbolism of it all and maybe I am not supposed to know right now...
   I forever remember how happy I was. And How grateful I am now to have felt that. To have loved him and to have been loved with such intensity. I am sure that Sad will continue to make unexpected visits and I am sure that I will see more and more of Sad as this months and the holidays draw closer. But I also know that I am finally feeling warmth in my heart. And laughter in my house. My only thought would be "If only... he were here to see it. 

Crazy stolen moments...

Sometimes it feels as though being with Pete was a lifetime ago. And sometimes I feel that his memory tap dances it's way through my living room. As if he and our memories are just stnading there in a top hat and a tutu waiting for me to acknowldege them. It's in these moments I want to shout at the Elephant. " What? Yes, I see you" Will you always look at me with those eyes. Will you ever see me as anything other than "Pete's widow?"  I seem to feel this need to just strike out on my own and pull free from all of that. As if closing the door to my "old " life. Or even to my "widowhood." What does that say about me? Am I healing? or have I just finally had enough?
     I went away for a few days. Like far away. The farthest I have been since Pete had passed. And the farthest I have been away from all three of my kids at the same time. It was awesome! (lol) I guess in this situation sometimes far away is the best way to be. I went to visit a friend that actuallly knew Pete first and me second. Sadly I didn't get to really know her until after Pete's passing. But I feel so lucky to know her now. She is a beautiful being. She and her husband invited me to come and stay with them for a few days. To get away and see the sites. It was so beautiful there. Everything about it was interesting and so unlike anything I have been to, or done. I felt alive and excited. Like a kid in the candy store. I couldnt take in enough. Everything from the beautiful mountains and trees. To the way the streets were made and followed the terrain of the land. The building the architexture. The people, and or course the regular touristy things. It was so unlike living here in plain Indiana. Where everything is flat and not a lot of diversity flows.
   The places we went and saw there were so many monets when I wanted to look over my shoulder and say "hey Roo, look at this" One day we went to an Art and Craft fair. It was so cool. The weather was great for being outside and walking all around. To enjoy not only the art but the beautiful landscape surrounding me as well.  There was one booth that we went to that remended me so much of Pete it took my breath. I just stood there looking at this piece of jewelry. It was a bracelet made with chainmaille.  It was a pattern that he had made me once. I remember him watching some turotial on how to make this pattern. He watched it maybe once or twice all the way through and that was that. He put it together as if he had been doing it for years. While I was standing there lost in thought, I remembered the joy on his face. I pictured him standing beside me. How I would pull him towards me and point it out to him. I envisoned his smile. Or how he would talk with the vendor asking him if that was the mans own handiwork or if they had bought it from someones else. It's these moments that so many take for granted.  This man, My Pete was so incredibly talented, that here I am standing in a completely didfferent city imagining what a converstaion with him or stolen moment would have been like. It still seems that after all this time, I still find myself saying "It wasn't supposed to be this way." Me standing here alone without him by my side.
     I watched so many couples that day. Watching them as they so carelessly walked hand in hand. Fingers intertwined, palms touching. The warmth of that other person. To look in each others eyes, to laugh over something you and he/she only knows about. Things that seem so simple to the average person are huge from my side of the street. It's those stolen moments, the quick glances, the look in his eyes. That I, just like all those other couples took for granted. Why didn't I hold on a little longer? Why didn't I take that innocent glance, into holding his face in my hands?  As if burning the image of it in my memeory. Never to be forgotten.   I know that I can't go back, and I can't do it again. And why would I want to. I guess the only thing to do is  remember the way I felt in this moment and hold onto it.   So that when I find that "special someone" I will know how short those "stolen glances" are.  I know that I will forever keep the moments that I can remember with Pete so close to my heart.
   I am forever grateful to and for Pete. For all the things he taught me, and for the things that he still teaches me. To hold onto the small things. To delight in every stolen moment, every touch. To remember that life is so precious. And to always Love unconditionally for I will never know how long I will get, to hold them tight. 

some Crazy thinking....

Another crazy day... but when aren't the days crazy?  The anniversary of 9/11 really had me thinking today. One of my thoughts was how interesting it is that I now understand what some of these women went through and go through as they lost their husbands so quickly and tragically.  My hope is that after 10 years things are getting a bit better. However maybe that's my glamorous idea of how the world should work. Or how grief should work. Surely after 10 years, things wouldn't be as crazy right? Here I am coming up on two years and in some ways it feels more crazy now than it did then. Granted I am not pregnant, thank goodness! (lol) And i was going to say my grief isn't what it was almost two years ago... but if that were the case Pete's "journey" hadn't started yet. on Sept 11,2009 Pete was still healthy, living and breathing. Little did either of us know what was to come. Even now I sit here and I think  "what was it like for these women who lost their husbands? The women that were expecting, the women that had just had babies. All those children both born and unborn who never got to either meet their dad's or get to know them. What are they like now? Ten years later...
   I was sitting inside a coffee shop, inside of the church, that the kids and I have just started "trying" out.  As I was sitting there thinking about picking up the kids I had a crazy question cross my mind. "What does Chase Leo think of all the daddy's that come to pick up their kids from his room?" Does he wonder why he doesn't have a Daddy? I mean I know he is only 19 months old, but he is smart. I am sure that somewhere in his mind he must wonder. And I wonder, at what point will he ask me where his Daddy is? I was so bothered by this I thought about calling someone. As if they would have the answer. And really who would I have called? It was like this moment of Oh my gosh! I have to find the answer. But there isn't one. Who is to say when Chase Leo will ask. But is it silly for me to worry about his reaction to all the other toddlers getting picked up from class? Maybe... But still I wonder, and still, I feel sad for him.
   There was a woman that I started talking with while in said coffee place. We got to talking about our lives and I had mentioned that I was a widow. That I had three children, and that he had passed when I was still pregnant. Sometimes it feels so odd to tell people this. Like as if standing outside of myself thinking "wait, that really happened?" And at other times, I find myself feeling sad for them that I am telling them something that is making them sad. Like today, this woman had such expressive eyes that I felt awful for telling her. Like I was sad that she was sad. I know crazy? I didn't want to upset her, I didn't even know her. But I know how telling my story can upset people.  Even though it's my story. It's my crazy. It's my life. My path.  I have wanted to help people who grieve or struggle with their own life. Helping them to see that they are not alone and in pain. Help people, who are feeling that no one could possibly begin to understand at all.  Making people feel sad was not on my list.
   I feel sad for these women of 9/11 today. Feeling sad for Chase Leo that his daddy doesn't come to pick him up. And sad for this woman who had, had her own terrible struggles who felt sad for me.  What does it all mean?  I don't know...  It's interesting how last year I hadn't put the two ideas together. The fact that I now have a better understanding of what these women must have gone through on some level. How even though today is not about Pete, it does still feel  like it  is in some way. Every police officer, and firefighter I saw at that church today I wanted to say... I get it. I don't get your exact experience, cause I wasn't there. But on some level I do. And I am so sorry the pain you felt, and the pain you still feel. What's grief like 10 years later? Does it still hurt as bad? What did these women tell their children when they started asking "Where is my Daddy?" At what age did they ask?  So many questions that run around my brain.
   I remember the first time I went to Brookes Place. (bereavement support for children and families) I listened to the other parents "check in" stating who they were, and how long it had been since their spouse had passed. Chase Leo was only two weeks old the first time I went. I remember listening to people who were like 2 and 3 years out, ever 5 or 6 years out. And I thought "Oh my gosh I am still going to be this horribly miserable in 6 years?" Or even "You can bet I won't be here in 5 years." But who is to say. It's about the kids after all. It's mainly for them and if A and P want to go we will go. Every life change has a grief moment with it. Aryanna is 6 years old now and even she is started to "get it" more.  Another question occurred to me just now will Chase Leo want to go to Brookes Place? Can he? He never met him.. will he still grieve? Obviously not in the same way that A and P do... I don't have the answer. Just like I don't know what's going on inside CL's little mind. And I don't know when he will ask me. But does it matter? In the whole grand scheme of things does it really matter?  I guess it doesn't. Chase Leo will ask when he asks. And I will tell him the best way I know how. And I will tell him that even though his Daddy didn't get to physically meet him, oh how he loved his little boy.
   Just like all these women did. They told their children of how strong and brave their daddy was. So when I recall the events of  9/11 and exactly where I was and where Pete was. I also remember all of those women who lost their husbands and what it did to them and their children.  I hope that in 10 years from now I can remember with love, and beauty, and grace. Of all the wonderful memories that I got to have with Pete. While it was too short. I am forever grateful.

" Good Man"  by Indie Arie
I remember the first day I met you
we were so young
You were a blessing and there was no
guessing, you were the one
Love is so crazy. We had a baby and said our vows
That's when you told me should anything happen
I can hear you now, You told me...

** If the sun comes up and I'm not home
be strong
If I'm not beside you, do your best
to carry on
Tell the kids about me
when they are old enough to understand
tell them that their Daddy was a good man

First anniversary remember we chose a star
And as I stand under it I can't help but
wonder where you are.
For whatever reason, you don't see the seasons
change again
Go there with peace of mind, We'll meet on the
other side
Cause True love don't end
and Baby...

** If the sun comes up and I'm not home
be strong
If I'm not beside you, do your best
to carry on
Tell the kids about me
when they are old enough to understand
tell them that their Daddy was a good man

Two eyes looking up at me
Pointing to a picture like where is he
Mama are you OK
What did the paper say to make you cry that way
It said your Daddy lived for you and your
daddy died for you and
I'll do the same...

** If the sun comes up and I'm not home
be strong
If I'm not beside you, do your best
to carry on
Tell the kids about me
when they are old enough to understand
tell them that their Daddy was a good man

Crazy Sight...

The temperature has finally started to drop. Today the winds were much cooler than they have been. With this change brings thoughts of Pete. And memories of days gone by. How he loved this type of weather. He used to say it was "good snuggle weather." :)  Lately I have felt so far away from him. So much change that has happened and at times he seems like a distant memory. Another place, another lifetime. It feels like it's been so much longer than 22 months. The memories that feel too close and yet light years away.
  Today I took the kids to the outlet mall to get new shoes. We were standing on the sidewalk eating ice cream when one of my random thoughts crept in. Pete never met Chase Leo. What.. is it something I have just now figured out? Or is it something I am finally able to accept? As if the realization that he never met him has finally hit. He never saw his face. I mean on some level I feel he did. The spirit world is an interesting place.. And I feel Pete so often in the house that I know he has seen him. And I know that CL has seen Pete and knows who he is. But it's that physical level. I guess it's that I never got to see Pete, see Chase Leo. I never got to see Pete hold Chase Leo. Rock him to sleep, change his diaper, give him a bath. It's me. I never saw it. and I guess that's where more loss, more realizations, comes into play. I missed out on it too.
    Being the emotional, intense and sensitive being that I am, I am starting to realize the many levels of loss and grieving. It's not only the loss of him not being physically present. It's the loss of what I didn't get to physically see, feel, and touch.  I have physical memories of Pete with Petey and Aryanna. The way it felt to hold Aryanna as an infant with Pete holding us both. The things we marveled at, and all the wonder of being a new parent. The memories of naps he had with Aryanna and Petey. The way he held Aryanna, the bond they shared. They way he played with Petey. All the things he taught them. I got to see with my own two eyes. To feel his love and devotion for the kids. To see and feel, to know in my bones what it was like for him to be a Daddy. I got to see all of that. And yes, on many levels I am SO lucky, I know.... but on so many levels I am not.
    I remember standing by his bed and thinking how hard it would be on Pete for him to never hold his son. And that He would live because I knew he couldn't bear not to be here for Chase Leo.  But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.... I stood helpless and pregnant and lost and lonely. Looking at this beautiful man that I loved, that I married, that I shared my life with slipping away from me... It was never a thought that he wouldn't live. It was never a thought! Even when the doctors told me I needed to decide that if his heart stopped beating should they try and get him back. Even then, I knew my Pete, and I knew what he could handle. It wasn't death. He would get better. He WOULD, and I would have the baby and he would be right beside me holding the camera.  I pictured it over and over again. He was there, with me, in the delivery room. I pictured him standing, I pictured him in a wheel chair sitting next to me.. But By golly he was there. Because I knew HE wouldn't miss it. I knew it would kill him to miss it. But the truth, the fact remains... He physically missed it.  He missed it? Really? He wasn't there to hold my hand, to tell me it was OK. To tell me how big CL was and so beautiful. That he looked like his name that we had chosen. I missed seeing him looking at me... I missed seeing him hold the camera. I missed seeing, feeling, touching, his face. I missed the warmth of his hand on mine, his kiss on my lips. I missed seeing the pride in his eyes as he looked at me holding his son. I missed seeing him hold and kiss his beautiful baby boy. I missed it all.
    All these realizations hit me full force standing on the sidewalk. Even now... I realize the ache, the pain, this sunken feeling of loss not like I have felt before. Like the lightbulb has gone off. This constant every day missing him is not just about missing Pete, It's missing out on seeing Pete do the everyday things that made him who he was. It's no wonder I constantly feel like I am missing out on life. Because a part of me is. Hello!!  Crazy Lady.. I am. My life without him..I am missing that part of seeing him, see me and our life together.  Thats what's missing. I needed to look into his eyes. His eyes, seeing me. His eyes seeing A, P and CL. I can look at his eyes any time I want because all three kids have his eyes. But they are duplicates of his eyes..they aren't the originals. They aren't Pete's, and yet they are. I know, I know, Crazy....
   The Epiphany has come and gone. It didn't kill me. It;s just another realization of how interesting our minds work. How our hearts work. How these thoughts these "realizations" I am having, I could not have had before. My heart, my psyche couldn't have handled it before.    The levels of loss are incomprehensible at times. And just when I think I have gotten a good grip on it. The weather changes, bringing with it more change, more loss, more grief. And yet more realizations about myself. Of where I have been, and where I am now. All lessons being taught. It's whether I show up to learn them. That's the question isn't it? Will I continue to show up and learn them. Cause Lord knows I can't change them.  It is what it is..He's gone and I'm still here. And whether I skip a day from class, I will still have make-up work. So even if I stop attending, it will eventually catch up with me, and I will have to learn all those lessons that I missed before. It's like anything else you have to work for what you want. I have to study, and learn , and prepare, for the test. And if I don't, then this crazy life takes over. It knocks me down and flattens me. The crazy life wins. And I don't like to lose. Not without a good fight. I don't like to be told I can't. Cause I will prove you wrong until you hold up your hands and say OK enough, You win.
   Still this lesson is hard. It hurts, it's complicated, it's messy and at times it can be brutal. It's in your face there is no beating around the bush. I can't turn away. I have to walk this path. And Unfortunately three very wonderful little children have to walk it too. The four of us have to do the work of learning without our fifth member of our small group. It's horrible and at many times it seems so completely unfair.  However it's taking the lessons we have learned and the tests we have taken and aced and put them up on our refrigerator to remind us how amazing and awesome we are.  Even though he is not here we have continued to show up. And even though I have missed out on seeing it..I continue to have Faith and try to see things from a new point of view. A view that I know he would want me to see. It's also having the Faith, and the trust, to know that when he see's his small group from across the classroom..he is proud of what he see's. For when he see's us, he knows that even though he can't physically show up for class, we will ace this test without him. We don't want to, But we will. It's what he would, have wanted to see. 

The crazy is gettin to me...

I wish Pete was here to hold me close. I need him to just squeeze me and Take all the pain away. Just hold me so tight. Tell me it's ok. I don't want to hurt anymore. At some point I just really want someone to rescue me. Save me from this nightmare. I throw in the towel, I wave my white flag, I surrender. Come find me and hold me close.

Crazy Steps...

I have done nothing but cry for days on end.  I can't seem to focus on one thing. and I mostly just want to go back to bed. Which is so unlike me. I can't seem to want to play with the kids. and I can't seem to muster up the energy to interact with them. I guess you could say I am a bit burned out. Like the whole "kidney stone" was my breaking point. I feel at times that I can't do it anymore... I will... But It feels impossible. Immobilizing. and at times suffocating. Almost to the point of shouting "OK, I need a break from life!"
  My in laws were here for about a day and a half. it was nice to see them. And the kids were so excited!! I was having another weepy day. So they watched the kids while I ran to the store. However I felt the need to go to the cemetery. I never feel the need to go to the cemetery but that day I did. I pulled in drove around the corner and parked. I got out of my car and all but ran to his grave. Where I laid down on top of it and cried my eyes out. There I was lying on my tummy head resting on the headstone just shaking with loss and heartache. The grief overcame me to just breathless sobs of despair. I laid there for awhile and then I sat up. I looked at his picture and wiped away the grass. I started to talk. Words that seemed empty..Along with the occasionally "I don't want to do this without you." I got up to leave. I didn't say goodbye I just walked to my car. Turned the AC on and melted into another puddle of tears. Gripping the steering wheel as if that was some sort of life line. I eventually turned the car around and drove out of the cemetary.
  I drove to Walmart expecting to just get out of the car and go in and get the milk and things that I needed. But obviously I pulled into the spot and started to cry again. By this point it finally started to rain. And I really didn't want to get out of the car. I called a friend and went to her house. Where I cried on her some more and then fell asleep in her guest room.
  The stupid thing about grief. There is no warning. It just smacks me upside the head and brings me to my knee's in no time flat.  Most nights after the kids have gone to bed I have sat in my tub with the shower beating down on me. while I prayed to make it through another day. praying for some peace and comfort. It seems the shower has been my only place where I feel comforted.  However it does make it a bit difficult when I want to go and lie in my shower and the kids want to run wild through the house. The shower seems to be the place to cry where I don't have to hide my tears from the kids. Where I feel as if my anxiety is being washed down the drain. As if being pummeled by water is enough to beat the "yucks' out. But it's the whole getting out and facing the world again that leaves me daunted.
   I feel at times I am sitting in a grief hole. and I am just trying to find the best way to get out. sometimes it is hard to see through my tears the ladder in front of me.  The problem is that no one can get me out of my hole. I have to do it myself. Sure anti anxiety meds and anti depression meds help a lot!! but it is still me that has to hard work at pulling on the rope and climb my way out. I know there are helping hand along the way for when I lose my footing.  But the pain is mine. The fear is mine, the path is mine.  So these last few days I have been at the bottom. But I have my hand on the ladder and I am working my way out. First one step and then the next. I know I can do it... I have done it before. It's just that right now the pain feels raw again. but in a new form. The realization is setting in. I am really here and he really isn't.
   For the time being I stand at half way up the rope ladder. My hands are tired and raw. My face is streaked with tears and my body is tired and worn out. But I know that I have to get to the top. For me, for A, P, and CL, they need me and I need them. And I will get to the top. I will once again be hopeful, courageous, and playful.  I didn't get this far in this crazy journey to give up..I didn't get this far to be a coward. I got this far because I believed in Pete, our kids believed in me, and I believed in myself.  However right now it's finding that courage, that strength, that warrior to push through the pain, the heartache and the sorrow.  And I have to remember the only way to do it, is to take it one crazy step at a time.

Crazy stones...

Today is the 21st. Which means that is has been 21 months since Pete has passed. I wonder how long I will notice the 21st of every month. Personally I am tired of noticing. It seems the more I try to avoid it the more I notice that the 21st is just around the corner.  I miss him more these past few days. I mean really? how could I miss him more than I already do.. But I think it has to do with the recent events.
  Sunday afternoon I had to call my Aunt to come and get me to take me to the ER. I have a kidney stone and it was on the move. There I was lying on my bedreoom flooor. Crying and not able to move. With three sets of eyes all looking at me and climbing on me trying to figure out what was wrong with Mommy. I litterally could not move. The pain was so bad it took everything I had to crawl to my phone to cal my aunt. Luckily my neighbor was home so she watched the kids while my Aunt drove me to the ER.  I didn't want to go. I did not want to step one foot inside of a hospital. But at this point I had no choice. Since I felt as though my kidney was being ripped in two. So, in I went.
   I gave the nurses all the information that I could and then it was off to a room. I walked in and turned right back around. As if to leave. Thinking to myself. "I can't do this"/ Thank good ness for my aunt. She held me close and said. "Honey you are going to feel so much better" So we joked about the riduculous gown that I had to wear. and watied for them to start an IV. IV in, blood drawn, Meds in. Thank goodness for heavy pain meds. :) then off to get a CT scan.  The CT showed I basically had an 8 mm kidney stone stuck and blocking the ureter. And that It needed to come out. *panic*  I don't want to go anywhere, where I have to have something out. That means more hospitals.. more.. stuff that I don't want to see. Just more. Too much more.
  Dr. gave me some meds to take and told me to follow up with the other dr on Monday morning. Only come back if the pain was worse. Well the pain got worse. So Monday morning at 6am My Aunt is pulling kids from their beds to take me back to the ER. We got there, I fell out of the car and hobbled my way into the ER again. As my Aunt and kids were pulling away. Aryanna asks.."Why are we taking mommy to the ER" Bless My Aunt. She says. "Well the doctors aren't in thier offices yet. so they come to the ER to see people before the office opens. And since your mommy needs to see a dr before the office opens this is where we take her."  I knew that Aryanna would ask. It had to be so De ja vu for her. The last time she saw her Daddy. Mommy was driving him to the hospital and he walked into the ER never to come out again...
   Back to the room, more blood work and more meds. Now a new Dr said "It has to come out today" So my sister came to get me and off we went to the main hospital to be prepped. Waited for about 3 hours and then in I went to the OR. I was so nervous. and Eeveryone was so nice. Some very nice nurse held my hand and told me it was going to be OK. I so needed that. Got knocked out. they did the procedure "surgery" and I was waking up in no time. however I was still terribly uncomfortabel but at least the boulder was no more.
  Now comes the recovery... I survived the hospital. I survived the ER, the procedure, the IV's the blood. You name it I did it. I am in this state of after shock. I am not taking the heavy meds anymore. ( Don't really like to take them) the only thing I am on is the antibiotic and the blue pill that helps with the stint pain. ( Can;t wait to get that out!!!)  The main thing I hate most about heavy pain meds is how weepy they make me feel. . Mixed with all the anxiety  and the constant fear that I can't do this... To the point I litterally want to just run away. Get on an airplane and go somewhere else.
  The one place I want to go on that airplane I can't go to today... In the middle of all this crazy. Lies some truth.  Truth that I don't like to face. Truth that I don't want to face.   I am still here and Pete is still there. I am where I am supposed to be and Pete is where he is supposed to be.. It is what it is.  To those poeple who have not spent a great deal inside of a hospital or even spent enought time in one to watch someone die. The last thing I ever wanted to do was spend time in a hospital. But there I was facing all those things that I never wanted to do again. In 48 hours I stared my fear in the face. However it is that fear and that grief that has haunted me these past few days. Making it at times impossible to function. Feeling as though I could not take one more step forward. Today I didn't. Instead after I put the kids in the car. turned on the AC and a movie. I came back into the house a laid down face first on my bedroom floor and sobbed like a baby.   No one came in to wrap their arms around me and whisper in my ear that it would be OK.  To hold me close rocking me gently. Soothing the hurt that could no longer stay hidden inside. There were no words to yell. Just anguish and pain from the reality of the past few days, mingled with the anniversary of 21 months.
  I don't know how long I laid there. Probably not as long as I would have liked. I was worried the kids would be worried about me. So I stood up put my sunglasses on and continued to let the tears roll. There comes a time when it's pointless to act like I am not in pain. Weather it's physical pain or emotional pain. often times as of lately it has been both. There was no one to comfort me but me. I could feel Pete's spirit with me.. I know he was there. But it was me who stood up, shook my hair free and walked to the car.. It is me who pulls the choker collar off every morning and throws it on the table, it is me who holds my babies when they cry and miss their Daddy, or even the way their life used to be. It is me who walked into that hospital and faced the cold hard truth again. And it is me who is healing from the inside out.

a crazy "blip"..

I wrote this part of the "story" first but fell asleep while writing it. But it's still good, and thought it needed to be shared too.

 Today Is Aryanna's 6th Birthday ( July 2,). I didn't think it was going to be as hard as it was. Silly me!! It was hard. I did lots of crying and at times moments where I felt I could not keep going. My heart was heavy, so heavy that it felt it was pushing down on my lungs. As if the upper half of my body was caving in on itself. Huge tears rolled down my face. With thoughts of. "I can't do this" I can't do this without him."  I needed him with me. By my side. Not up in the clouds. Here, on this plane!!

  I found myself in moments of just survival mode. Like I didn't care if the party started and everything wasn't just perfect. I felt I should be entertaining but.. I just didn't have it in me. I wandered through Walmart like a zombie picking up the things on my list and not thinking about anything else. I wasn't feeling. I should have been like "Lady!! Get going. you have 4 things on your list and people coming to your house in like an hour and a half." But I wasn't thinking about that. I just wasn't thinking. Made it out of the store only to realize I forgot one of the main reasons I went there. Chase Leo's milk. I was frustrated but not enough to go back in the store and get some more. I was here... but I wasn't.

  

Birthday crazy...

There are times when my anxiety I feel takes over. I can't eat, I, cant think.. and often times I feel that I am just going through the motions. Today and yesterday have been these types of days. Aryanna turned 6 yesterday. She had a great day, and a great party!! However from my perspective it was a really hard day. I cried more yesterday and today than I have in a few months. I would be driving around yesterday running errands, and I thought my heart and chest would cave in. It was as if my heart was to heavy to be inside me.  The pain of what was so real stared me in the face. To the point I felt numb and unable to look away. What would be the point. It was yet another milestone without Pete. Another major moment that I had to buck up, and do it by myself.
  I feel very grateful and blessed because I was surrounded by people who love Aryanna and they love me. So they were there for support. Don't get me wrong the support is great and all.. But it still feels like my battle to fight. The battle to not let "Anxiety"win. To come in and take over. I woke up with it yesterday and I woke up with it this morning. That kind of anxiety where I feel that I am wearing a choker collar. The more intense it gets the less I can breathe. The other place I feel it is in my stomach. it's where the no eating or drinking comes into play. Cause I can't feed it and I can't drown it. It still stays. It takes up my whole stomach so even if I am starving. I cant seem to swallow...
  I think its the fact that I stand here in this moment without him. Physically at my side. I needed him here. I wanted him here. I wanted to give Aryanna her Daddy the one thing she only wants and needs is him. But I can't. That in itself is tough to swallow. Even though I had all these people around me.. I still felt so lonely.
  I am sure that one could wonder "How could that be?" You were surrounded in people who love you and care for you and the kids.. Yes, but I wanted to be wrapped in a big bear hug, and held so tight.  And again it the quesion of " i wouldn't be in this sitaution if Pete was here".  I miss being married. I miss the feel of a wedding ring on my finger. Granted I am not going to run right out and look for a husband that would so not be smart!! But I do long for that moment of knowing I will never have to be alone again. While yes I will still raise children all day but the hope of someone coming home to me. to us. Feels like a blessing.
  Recnetly I feel that my frineds have been telling me in a nice way that "I had it really good" when I was married to Pete. and I say "Yes, I know" He wasn't like most men. He loved children, he loved his kids. He played with them, he rough housed with them, he diciplined them. but he loved them so crazy bad. Not only was he a good father but he was a good husband as well. Don't get me wrong though, there were things about him that were not easy to live with but over all.. he was an amazing man. I know this, I know I had it good. Don't you think I know that. I know that my friends are trying to be helpful..and be supportive. But sometimes its hard too because they are just voicing what I already know. Although it does make me wonder.. will I find that again?
  I know that no one will be Pete. I know this. However I can hope that there are men like Pete. Who love kids and adore me. Who can embrace the "crazy's" and understand that Pete will always be a part of me. Not only because of the kids but because he is in my heart. He is a part of my heart. So many times I look at my situation and think "This is so much.. who could want to take us on?" and then it hit me square in the face. To the right man it won't be too much. To the right man the four of us will bring love and joy to his life. Enriching it in ways that he may not have had before. I have to believe that he is out there somewhere for me. I know that God and Pete will  and are guiding the kids and I. Guarding and protecting us. My hope is that For Aryanna's next birthday, I won't be alone. I will have fought the battle and won. Hopefully I will have the "right man" beside me. But if not. I know I will always have my Pete encircling us all in his angel wings.

A space to let out the Crazy's

I am irritable so watch out!!
   I know that people are trying to be kind and ask me how I am and how the kids are. But At some point I just really want to be honest. The next time someone asks how I am I might just give them an earful. Everything these days is about being so PC. But, sometimes I really want to answer questions like "so, how are the kids doing?" with. "How do you think they are?" or even. "Well it's been 20 months and it's finally sinking in that there Daddy lives in heaven."  How is that for an answer. I know, that is not the best answer. Or The question I get from people who haven't lost a spouse, parent, or child that frustrates me the most.  Is their opinion on how kids grieve. Thinking that if I keep bringing it up they will never get over it. It makes me want to shout! Or even when people say "Well kids are so resilient, you know, they probably won't remember this time in their lives." Really? I want to answer "How do you know?" Or even say something like "Well, that is a possibility, but they remember now, They hurt now. They miss their Daddy now."  It's questions like this, or questions that lead to this, are just irritating to me. I know that some people are trying to be "helpful" or inquisitive about it, but sometimes I feel people don't think  through the whole question before tasking. Granted I know that I have said some pretty dumb things. And I know that I still do. I say dumb things to people who have just lost someone who has recently passed. So one would think, that I wouldn't be so irritable about "said questions" but I am. It must be the day.
   I feel like I don't have time to answer annoying questions. I sometimes don't feel that I have the time or the patience to answer my own children. I know that is really sad. But honestly.. I get so frustrated with the people around me. I don't have a quiet spot and it seems that Mommy doesn't always get a time out just because she needs one. Its as though for parents we are always putting our kids in time out for bad behavior, however there is no time out chair for Mommy, Why is that?  Even if I tell my children stay right here Mommy is going to get the mail. They all want to follow me outside. It's like I am speaking and words are coming out of my mouth but they can't hear me, or comprehend them. I just can't take it!
  When kids are little they get their own room. or a place that they know is just for them. And they get to go and play in their room. And we as parents try so hard to make it a place where they can feel free to be themselves, to create, and imagine. But when it comes to "Mommy's room" no matter how hard I try it still is not, just mine. Because what happens when the kids have a bad dream, or the laundry needs to be folded? It goes into Mommy's room. Everything goes into Mommy's room. Kids, clothes, books. crap that I don't know what to do with, Toys are all shapes and sizes all end up in Mommy's room. I stand in the middle of the room and go "What happened to Mommy's space?" But that just it. As a parent it seems there isn't a space for our "stuff." We move out our stuff to make room for more kid stuff. Sometimes it's a necessity, but a lot of the time it is not.  Lots of times when I get to these points of "just don't talk to me or ask me one more question that I don't know the answer to. Or ye,t another answer to a question you have asked me a 100 times already." I want a small space that is just mine. A space that is just mine, all mine!
 One space, where the kids can't get to. One place, where the only one who has a key to enter, is me. If it gets messy it's because I made it that way. Not because it is full of clothes that are all too small for my son. Or trains in the middle of the floor just waiting to be stepped on with my bare feet in the middle of the night!!  How many of us as parents want that but don't ever get that?
  I guess I get so frustrated and irritable that I just want to shake everyone and everything off. As if to say "Back away from the Crazy Lady!"  I don't want to ask any more questions to myself, I don't want anyone to ask me anything. I want at times to just sit and think of nothing. No worries, no anxiety, no fears, and even no Pete. Nothing to cloud my head. I want to see each situation as it comes with clear eyes, and mind. Not with all the fog that goes with it. All the questions I get tired of asking myself only to reply to myself with more questions that usually sound like 'I wonder when I will stop asking myself that"  Mostly the big one that I keep asking regularly is "If Pete was here, I wouldn't be in this situation." Then the question after that is "When will I stop asking myself this question, and realize this is my life now."  The problem, I know this is my life now. I know it, and yet I don't know it. It's like it still hasn't settled into my bones. Which to me seems baffling as if to ask myself " You have spent 600 days, 14,400 hours without Pete, how could you not know?"  I don't know. The question still remains "This is my life now? Really?"
  I am not saying this is a bad life. I am blessed I have three beautiful children, a nice home. Loving family and good friends. I know that I am safe, and am surrounded in people who love me and want me to heal and have a happy life. Its just that even though I know all of these things. There is still a chunk that is missing. Yes, my heart is learning to heal. And Yes, I am tons stronger than I ever thought possible. It's just not how I pictured it to go. But that's life. I know that. It's reality. I know that too. Sometimes it seems like too much to swallow. Too many questions. Like being in a big noisy room and I am in the middle with everyone talking to me at once. The irritability. The stuff on the inside, the stuff on the outside. The negative and fearful thinking, the constant worry from friends and family that I am not taking care of myself. And my reply is "Well no, when would I have time." But is it time, or is it fear?  Along with the same question from close friends "If you don't take care of yourself., then you can't take care of your kids well either" " A happy healthy Mommy, is happy, healthy, children."  To that I say "Well...., maybe"
  I have three kids who have all been fed dinner, are bathed and all sleeping peacefully in their beds. I know, that they know,  they are loved so very much. Mommy may be a bit crazy but A,P and CL know how to laugh, they know joy, they know how to love, they know they are loved. They also know things that I wish I could change and I can't. I can't take their hurt away. I know this. And I do agree that kids are reliant in some ways. But they do know how it feels to miss their Daddy so much. But they are lucky too, because they also know how much their Daddy loves them.
 . . I Do hope that You if you are a parent make time to find your "little space" that is just yours. That next time you ask someone how they are, that you truly do want to know. But please don't be offended if you find the person may dodge the question.  Life is Crazy, people are crazy, and reality is crazy.   It seems though that if we all were just a bit gentler with ourselves, and with each other. Maybe there wouldn't be as much craziness. Who knows maybe there would be, But at least it would be crazy, with a touch of class.

a Crazy "Fathers Day"...

Lets just say, I survived it. I made it through another Fathers Day without Pete. However in some ways this feels like the first one. It's like last year, I don't remember much. I was still so numbed out in so many ways. It's this year that all the holidays, anniversaries, birthday, etc. are the ones I really feel fully.  Today felt a little like dooms day. Even though I know, that I am so blessed to have had Pete. Without him I wouldn't have three beautiful children. Along with 6 very happy years. But still it is what it is. Another "crazy" monumental moment without him.
  All the families that that have their husbands and kids together.  Those families who have the uncles and grandpa's over for that special "Dad's cookout".  Today I had this overwhelming urge to shout out, "What about the children who are fatherless?"  What about them?"  Yes, they can still wish their grandfathers and their uncles Happy Fathers day. But is it has hard for them to say, as it is for me? It's almost like the words get stuck in my throat and I wish I didn't have to speak. Although, I am so grateful for the uncles, grandparents, and such. In my family they are good "fathers". It's feeling that sad and awful realization I can't say it to my husband. My kids can't say it to their Daddy. Their Truly amazing Daddy.
  I wanted to do something with the kids that would honor Pete today. A friend suggested we do something he liked to do. Like bake a cake, or go out to eat at one of his favorite restaurants. Both of those of course felt too hard. But an idea came to me. When Pete and I were engaged and then even after we got married. If we were asked to bring something to a gathering or party we brought "Taffy Apple Pizza", its very tasty. So I thought why not make that for Pete today. It's a happy memory and it would make me feel good to share it with them. To share something about Daddy, before he was daddy. So we went to the store got all the ingredients and came home. However once home, I thought "I can't do this." I can't make this without him".  I don't want to go in my house and have to make something that I know he likes.  He is not even here to eat it! I got the kids out of the car and unlocked the front door. I came back outside and sat on the side of the car. CL was still asleep, in his carseat.  I just sat there. Thinking all these thoughts . I felt immobilized. I held my phone in my hand and txt my younger sister. I asked her if she could get away for 30 minutes. That there was a project I wanted to do with the kids but couldn't seem to get out of the car to do it.
  Thankfully she came over. With tears running down my face we walked into the house and started getting the ingredients and such together. The kids helped stir, and put this or that into a bowl. I told them how this was one of Daddy's favorite sweet treats. Once the cookie part was in the oven. I looked at my sister and said Thank you, I needed to do this for the kids and for myself, but I couldn't;t seem to get started. Thank you for being with me. For helping me get through this. She smiled and gave me a big hug and went back to my Dad's to finish helping with preparations. After she left the cookie was done and the kids and I assembled it. We had done it. With a little help, some tears, and a little push from those who love us.    We took it with us to the cookout and everyone had a piece. It was nice to be able to share a little bit of "Pete" with everyone.
   The party was nice and the food was good. The kids were all tired out and sweaty and in desperate need of a bath. As I was driving home I remembered something my sister had said about when CL was a baby. She said How when she used to stay and spend the night at my house on Wednesday nights she and I would stay up and eat peanut M&M's. I had totally forgotten that. It was like that feeling of "How could I forget something so important" But I did. I had to reach back and remember us doing that. Like a file thats at the back of the drawer. But it went back to me saying earlier about how its the second year where things are so totally real. People aren't kidding when they say the second year is harder. Well, yeah. Your awake now, your out of your coma. It's feeling that loss like a ton of bricks. No, I mean really feeling it. Yes, I felt it before. The loss, the hurt, the excruciating pain that I never want to feel again.  However it's this year, this second year, that I feel the sadness. The sad for my children. The sad for myself. The sad of what Pete is missing. Physically missing! It's that feeling where my hear hurts and is so sad my core wants to just turn inward and hide. It's a little like being lonly in a room full of people.
  I felt as I drove home that I was back to that not wanting to go home to no one. To open the door and no one is inside waiting. That frustration and overwhelming sense that I just don't have the patience to keep moving forward. The other worst feeling is having absolutely no patience for even listening to my kids telly me a funny story.  I love their little voices and the ideas they come up with, but, it's in these moments that I can't listen, I cant reason, I cant be rational. My first action is to get frustrated an yell. I know, great example I am setting.  In some ways I know it is just my minds way of saying "Look Lady you have had enough for today."
  However if I could just stand back, I would see that Pete's spirit is with us. That he and God are guiding us along. To help me put one foot in front of the other. To pursue, to go onward and upward.  We survived it. Another Fathers day. The kids talked about Daddy and they said they missed him. But they also seemed happy to have the "Special" desert we made just for him. Weather they ate it or not, it was something that was a part of him. Maybe it will be a new tradition for us for "Fathers Day".
   For now I feel happy that the kids had fun. I feel thankful for my sister for coming to my rescue to help push me forward. I am grateful that we did it. We made something for Pete. In making it I remembered a fun time in our lives, in that the kids learned a little something new about their Daddy. And the amazing and fun man that he was.  Happy Fathers Day Roo, you are/were the best Daddy to our children. We are all so lucky and grateful for the times and the Fathers Days that we got to spend with you.

This Mad Crazy Lady!!

The crazy lady is back. More like the mad crazy lady. Mad at my kids and mad a Pete!!  Which seems stupid. how can you be mad at a dead guy. He is lucky he is not here. I am .His kids and I are here. doing what? trying to live our lives without him. How are we doing Pete?
  I made the drive to Batavia with three kids. It was great!! No really, the drive part was fine. And the picnic was good too. Unfortunately it rained the whole time. It was really nice to see everyone. But it was really hard too. Cause there we all were just standing around waiting for Pete to come bustling in through the door and he never did. He never does!!
  It's the coming home back to the house and knowing that he is not here to greet us. Still!! I wonder how long it will be that I will keep waiting for him to be there. I want to shout to myself. Idiot he is not here. He hasn't been for almost 19 months now. Why would he be here now. Its the frustration of not being able to deal. to just deal with everything. The kids need me and I need to just sit in the corner and cry and shout until I feel better. But then I don't want the kids to look at me and be scared. Right now I am thankful the big ones are in bed. Yet mad at the little one cause he is pulling my hair. I can either be mad at him or I can write about what I am really mad about. I am mad that I am still here and PEte is not. I can't change it, I can't go back. I can't undo it. I can't do anything. It feels very helpless at times. It's these helpless moments that make me want to just run down the street screaming my head off. Will I feel better? I don't know. Will it bring Pete back. NO! So why would I feel better. I don't know.
  I am mad at the world tonight. Mad, mad. Mad. And Mad that I can't do a single thing. I can't take some pill to feel happy again. I could drink it away. But then I would have a hangover and be mad that I have a hangover and then will remember why I have the hangover and therefore it comes back to just being mad. So why go through the whole drink it away. It doesn't help. Nothing does when I am in the mad state.
  So what should I do? I don't know. I guess write out my frustrations to share them with you instead of taking them out on the harmless bystanders. Like A,P, and CL. I know it is not their fault either. I just don't seem to have the patience to handle all their emotions and the "coming home" emotions that they feel as well. I get tired of being the "strong one" all the time. Be strong for them, be strong for those around me. To be calm, act like the world is my oyster. Well it's not. And today I don't want to be strong I want to be mad. even though it seems  counterproductive. Again whats the point. And yet I can't help but be mad!
  So I guess, I will go and put my cranky baby to sleep. Feeling mad at the whole process. Yet knowing tomorrow is a "new" day, thank goodness. Pete still won't be here. But we will.  We will keep going like we always do. Mad or not, We will make it.
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Facing the music "feels" extra Crazy!

Do you ever feel that you are carrying the world? I don't feel that I am carrying the whole world, I just mean that I am carrying my world.  I always try my best to look at the whole picture. To see things from all perspectives. However there still seems to be a few things that I have yet to face. The two that I can think of off the top of my head are:  What to do with Pete's truck and going "home" to Illinois.  The problem with the truck is that even though I have one of Pete's friends who would gladly take it, I just don't know how I feel about seeing it driving around Indianapolis without him in it. It just feels weird. Maybe that means it's just not time yet. I go back and forth on this. Sometimes I think. "OK, I am ready, lets be done with it." Plus I know Pete would have wanted it to be used if someone is in need of transportation. The other times. I feel like its one of those things, that was so him.  It's like all of his model cars they are so him.  Now granted I don't want his truck sitting in my driveway, and I don't really want to physically see it. But I just can't seem to "let it go."
  The other major one is going home. I know, I need to do it. And I feel the pressure big time to do it. But I just can't face it yet!  I don't know how to tell his parents that. I so feel grateful for the driving they do to come here. And I know it must be so hard for them to come here. To his house to see the kids and everything with out him physically here. How hard and odd it must feel to them. I just feel stuck. At what point do I just push myself to get over "it" and just do it? Will I ever "feel" ready, unless I just go there. I don't know. But It feels so, so , hard. At times I almost feel like a child. I want to stomp my foot and yell "NO, I won't do it" And then run to my room and shut the door. As if that would do any good. And I don't usually take the cowards way out anyone. However I sometimes wonder if that's what they think. When they keep asking me to come home.  I struggle with this so much. I love his family. It's not that I don't want to see them. Or be with them. There are so many memories tied into being there. In Pete's house. His home that he grew up in. So many trips there with Pete. I mean we used to go at least once a month. Sometimes it would be a couple months before we could get back. But it always felt like a second home to me.
   It was today after I got off the phone with his parents that I remembered something major and yet crazy. One year I think it was 3 years ago around Thanksgiving. The plan was we were going to go to his house the weekend before for a bridal shower or baby shower and then He was going to drive back and the kids and I would stay in IL. Since the next weekend was going to be Thanksgiving. So then on Wednesday he would just drive back, and we would all have Turkey day with his parents. However when it was time for him to get ready to go, I told him "You cant go." he said "Why?" I said I just have a feeling that something bad is going to happen. That you won't be safe. You can't leave today." I mean I was adamant! And he knew about my crazy intuition. I remember calling a friend on the phone talking with her the day before he left and I kept saying "He can't go. But, I know he has to go back to work. What am I going to do."  She told me that it was OK. That maybe it was just a warning for him to be extra  careful on the way home. Pete and I talked about it and he said he would be extra careful. That he would call me the instant he got home. I gave him a big hug and told him to be so careful. And he left. He did call me the instant he got home.     I think of this now. And remember. Pete passed away in November on the 21st. three days before Thanksgiving. Just three years after I had "that" feeling.
   Everything in IL is Pete. The room we slept in. The places we went. It's his childhood home. It feel like walking back in time. The music is loud and I can't seem to face it. I finally feel that I am somewhere slightly steady. My fear of going back feels shaky. I know, I know. The only way to get over your fear is to do it. To face that loud music and just turn down the volume. No, I don't feel that it would kill me. It's just music, right? But Pete is so real there. So, so, crazy real. Every time I think of being in his home I think of all the happy times and it's another moment of feeling like If I could just touch him. In my memories he is right there. Just reach Kathryn, Reach...I stretch and stretch and it's just never enough. Why damnit!!! I know the kids want to go back. I know they do. They have been talking about it. it's like every moment, every car ride, every conversation every gas stop, every bite to eat. Its all right there. I just don't know how to do it without him. I am living right? I am living without him. I am raising our children without him, I strive to keep going and make it and stay strong and clean the house and keep everyone fed and clothed and healthy and happy. Balance the finances, make dinner, get to ballet class. just keep living. Isn't that enough? Cant I just do the living for right now?
   Does not wanting to go back make me weak? Like I have failed Pete in some way? I don't know. I mean part of me wonders if Pete and I were married but had no kids would they want me to come visit so much? I am not saying they don't love me, or that they don't like me in some way. It;s just sometimes I wonder these things. Not right or wrong really... I do miss the family. All his aunts and uncles. Being together eating such amazing food. laughing, loving, and  being together. I want A, P and CL to know that. I want them to know them. All of their family. To know their roots, their foundation. I guess maybe what it comes down to is that going back without him feels so real. So cut and dry. He is dead. There is nothing you or anyone can do about it. Like facing the truth so loudly!! This is your life, Kathryn Barajas. Now what?
  I don't know. Maybe it doesn't have to be that hard. It just feels that hard. like the walls are closing in and I have to make the decision. And if I don't I am going to get squished. How much longer? I am sure they wonder that too. Yesterday it was 18 months. 18!! Since Pete has passed. Is that long enough to not be "home?"  I mean they have even offered to come down here, and drive me back there. So I wouldn't have to worry about driving with three kids by myself. Thats a lot of driving on their part!! And I am so, so grateful. Is it the fact that it's been 18 months? I seem to have really struggled this time. I mean why would 18 months be harder than say 17 months.  To me it feels monumental.  Like really 18 months. I know, that in some ways it is just a number signifying time passing. But still it seems like so much and so little too.
   I don't know, I don't know, I just don't know. I feel crazy. Who has the answers? Pete? It's one more moment, It's one more thing to hurdle. Whats it feel like on the other side? Can I even see that far. If I picture everything being splendid. Then it will be, and there was no reason to worry. Why the struggle? This was my second home for God-sakes.  I should do it for the kids, right? I should do it for me. for us, for Pete. But when, I don't know. For now, I ask God's help. To give me strength to keep going, to face the music and find the joy. To know that I survived yet another very crazy moment in this journey. However I don't know when, But I will. And It will be great! And maybe I will drive Pete's truck to it's new home. 

Too Crazy?

Is there such a thing as "too Crazy?" Too many thoughts, too many. memories, just too many... Yet another "Memory " came and went. Mothers Day. Seriously?  It doesn't ever seem to be about Mothers. Because really the Mothers, end up doing all the work. It's all the preparing, to make sure that other "Mothers" have a nice time. And you know that all those" Mothers" had to get their families ready to go.  To Mothers day lunch, brunch,  Dinner. You name it. But it was the" Mothers" that held the family in check, to make sure that everyone got to where they were supposed to be. With that said. There are moments though usually throughout the day that we "Mothers" get a moment of gratitude. Weather it's through the beautiful smile that our child gives us. With a big hug, yelling " Happy Mothers Day!!" or  a wonderful brother in law who works so hard to share his "talent" with his in-law mothers, and sisters, and Grandmothers. He cooked a magnificent meal for the mothers. He of course being the shy one that he is, would never accept applause or being fussed over for delighting us "Mothers" in a lovely dinner. Especially one that didn't consist of something ending in "nuggets" or "sticks" or even "n-cheese!"
  There were many moment though for me throughout the day that I remembered past Mothers Days.  Yes, I still did the getting ready of husband and kids. But what I missed were the wonderful things that Pete would do. Make me breakfast,  help the kids make cards for Mommy. He would let me sleep just a bit longer... He would manage the kids while I put my  makeup on  in peace.  It was these little things that I remembered. And missed... Along with that fact that were it not for Pete, I wouldn't have Aryanna, Petey, and Chase Leo.  A few days before I was at my daughters school and her class had a "Mothers Day Tea". She and her classmates put on a little show for us. With songs and dancing and even a story. Of course I cried. Not only because she was my daughter. But b/c she was getting so big, and how he would have loved to physically have seen her. It was also realizing that no matter how much I tried to smooth over or even over look Mothers Day. I tried my best in my mind not to make a big deal out of it. It felt easier that way. But what it came down to, was that no matter how much I tried to pretend that it wasn't really coming up, It still was. And I would have to face it.  To my kids it wasn't a big deal. They wouldn't know the significance of that day. Petey is 4 and CL being a whole 15 months. They don't know that on this day we celebrate the Mommies.  It may sound selfish but to them it was any other day. It was Pete who would have made it "Mommy Day".
  On Saturday a friend dropped off some stuff for the kids. telling me that it was some stuff for A,P and CL that they had talked about. She told me to have Aryanna call her when she got home from her play-date so they could talk. Aryanna was such a big girl. She talked on the phone. And told Petey, not to "tell" Mommy about the surprise. It was very exciting to see Aryanna in that take charge role. Doing such a "big" girl thing.  On Sunday, I did have to remind her that she had a surprise for Mommy. And her eyes lit up and she was so excited!! I can tell you that I am so grateful to my friend for asking the kids, and helping them, get me a little s something. I know that Pete was proud and happy that she did that too. Really, that was how Pete was. He would have gone and taken the kids to get me just a little something that was from them. Like little pieces of their personality. By having her do that with them made me feel like it wasn't just another day. and to know that to Aryanna it wasn't just another day either. How big she is getting. How much I know that Pete is so so proud of her!!
  Even still I continued not to think about the day. I enjoyed my time with the kids. We watched cartoons together. and then later it was off to my dads for the gourmet dinner made by my brother in law. So I had those things to look forward to. Sort of fill in the gaps. Where I felt them to be empty. However it was today that the tears started to fall. The memories hit me in the gut. That feeling again of "remembering" how things were. How past events had been and felt. How if only he had lived.. Those moments of feeling him so close that if I could just reach out far enough to touch his face.. but its always too far. I am lucky though that I can feel his "presence" so close to me. That even though he is not Physically here in this house. he still is.. I know, Too crazy right?
  I was talking to a girlfriend of mine who has experienced loss herself. And she said that for her, she tries to  "Live a life that has a positive impact." She says "I try to make the most of my times here. Always trying to keep in mind, that He didn't get to. It brings me peace to have experiences for him so to speak. That when milestones come and go, I am sad that he can't be here for them, but I am glad that I can live them for him." To hear her say this put things in a new perspective for me. My thing recently has been to take all the beautiful things that he taught me about myself, about life, about being a mother. And roll them into a ball and carry it with me. Trying to mold it into me. Which I can still do. and will do. But to take the way she finds peace and add it to mine... Maybe, just maybe it won't be "too Crazy." It won't feel so Crazy.  It's unfortunate that she and I have both had such a big loss at such young times in our lives. And yet a blessing. How can so many things, be so bittersweet?
   I know I can't solve all of my grief and all of my kids grief overnight. How I wish I could. Aryanna has been asking so many questions about Daddy. I think for her, she is needing to remember. Needing to physically be able to remember them happening. Not just a story that she heard. I hate to think that My kids will ever forget him. I like to think that with their "Elephant memories" they won't. But so often I have been told that they will. I don't want them too. I want them to forget those moments when I told them that daddy wasn't coming home. to forget all the insane that happened after he passed, before the baby was born. After the baby was born. those first few weeks... I know, I worry too much. Yet it is these thoughts that have been plaguing me. Again, too many thoughts, too many memories..and not enough sleep. The lack of sleep combined with the sinus infection that I have makes everything seem so..well, crazy is the only way to put it. Sometimes it's these moments that the world feels as though it is standing still. I guess really its just that my world feels as though it is standing still. Wondering again if it is passing me by. My hope is that it isn't. That it is just these few crazy moments that time stops.
   So the world will go on spinning. I will get up in the morning and put one foot in front of the other. Realizing that "life" is better. I will find the joy in my children's laughter. I will raise my eyes to the sky, nod my head, and say "Thanks Roo, Roo."

Whats with those Crazy Milestones?

Today has been an emotional roller coaster. One minute I was yelling, the next I was crying. Then happy and laughing and finally back to yelling and now crying. Today is Petey's fourth birthday. I look at my son, his fathers exact replica and I weep. So proud of my little man and so sad that his daddy is not here to physically see it! I remember four years ago today. I was so happy. I was also so nervous. I was raised with all women and what was I going to do with a boy. But once I held him in my arms I knew it didn't matter. I loved him. I think back to those first few moments and I remember the way Pete held Petey so close. He was so proud to have a son. His son. Why God? Just Why? And really does it matter. He is not here and I am. I know, I know, I am so blessed to have three beautiful children that have their Daddy's blood running through them. But still.
  My heart is heavy tonight. I am sad. I sat on the floor or Aryanna's room tonight as we sang prayers. and the one song that Pete always liked to sing popped into my head. I had stopped singing it b/c it was just to hard. But I thought, "tonight, I will sing it for Petey". I made it half way through and started to cry. I couldn't finish. I sat and held Chase Leo on my lap and rocked him. I felt like In those moments I was going through my own private hell. Made just for me. I needed Chase Leo's little body close to my heart. So I could feel his sweet baby skin next to mine. Aryanna, and Petey, had fallen asleep. So they couldn't hear my silent tears. I kept thinking how sad I was that Pete never got to hold Chase Leo. In his big strong arms. How today he didn't get to marvel at his big little Petey. I sit and I wonder, What am I doing?...
  I have been struggling with Petey. He needs his Daddy. Damnit he needs his Daddy!!!  I know part of Petey's behavior is being four, but at times I feel like I lack in so many ways. It's hard to be a Daddy to a little boy when you are just the Mommy. I need Pete to help me. I feel that maybe the reason Petey is so head strong is my fault. Things just fell apart after Pete passed. I mean Petey was only 2 and a half!  What does he remember of his Mommy... So many things that I let slide. Because I didn't have the energy to argue. I just didn't know how to do it any other way. and Now am I paying for it? Is it just Petey?  I don't know. I keep having these feelings that if Pete was here he would have all the answers? That he would do it better? But would he have the answers? Could he do it better?
  I don't know. Are these thoughts normal? rational? I know that I havent' slept well in too many nights. Chase Leo is getting tow teeth in, therefore not sleeping. So Mommy is not sleeping. Is it lack of sleep. On top of that Last Tuesday was our would have been anniversary. It would have been 8 years.   To many milestones all in a row. April 21st was 17 months since Pete has passed. April 26th our would have been anniversary. May 2, Petey's birthday. and finally May 9 Mothers Day.  Sometimes it's too much. How do I just keep going.
  I just keep thinking if I can just get through another night. Get up in the morning. And hopefully one of these morning Aryanna will be on time for school. I trudge on. What choice is there. another day, another time out, another load of laundry, endless bills to pay, and more worries upon worries. Plus the big one how much am I really messing up my kids. I don't feel that I give them enough of my undivided attention. I am always in four otheter places,  And still I wonder if Pete was here with me would he do it better?  Would Aryanna still be late for school? Would the bills still pile up? Would Petey still be so argumentative? Would Aryanna still be so anxious? would I? And what of Chase Leo, He at least would know his Daddy.  What of these thoughts.. lack of sleep? Missing Pete? or just too many milestones in a row? Maybe all of them. Or maybe yet another way of grieving. I don't know.
   I know that in this moment I am not supposed to have all the answers. But I want them. I want to know that I am not doing it wrong. That Pete wold not do it better. Is that selfish?  That in this moment I am doing the best that I can. However I feel that that best is just not enough.. With this day the way it went, was maybe not the "best" fourth birthday that he could have had. between Mommy's many crying spells. My hope is that he will remember his new bike, his train cake, and his new Thomas movie. But Petey being Petey, and as sensitive as he is. Nothing gets by him.... And yet again. I wonder "Would Pete do it better"/
   The answer is still the same.. "I don't know."  I guess that I just have to chalk it up to being yet another "Crazy Milestone" another moments or moments that I survived. That in this day there was laughter, there was silliness. To remember the kids and I were surrounded in people who love us, and care for us. Who may not always understand  why I am the way I am. Or why I think the way I do. I hope that in the years, and Birthdays to come. That my tears will be less. That if the tears do fall.. it will be accepted and loved and kissed away. That on Petey's next birthday I can look to the heavens and Thank Pete for the wonderful gift that he gave me. This life. However not perfect. But Crazy, just the way it is supposed to be. 

A little Crazy...

There are moments When the memory of Pete is so real, I could just reach out and touch him. Like today. There was a dad walking across the street. He was young, married. He moved in just before Pete got sick. I am  not even sure we even got a chance to meet him and his family together. As I drove past him, I instantly saw Pete walking across the street in the same manner. He was wearing his favorite khaki shorts and his purple polo. He was so close. So close.  I sat in Bible study tonight listening to a woman talk about missing her son, who passed in his teens. How she couldn't believe it had been 5 years since she had seen him.  It's in these moments when I physically feel like Pete could walk across the street any minute that I too can't believe this is happening. Like can't I just wake up?
   I sat down at my computer tonight with the intent of staying positive. Trying my best to see his life in the positive. To celebrate the man and not look at the life that was lost too soon. I put the computer on my lap and burst into a million tears. Sobbing, that I missed him so much. I am working at it. Really truly trying my best to stay grounded and not look too far into the future. Thats when the anxiety comes in. As if to remind me that nothing lasts forever. Even in this moment of sadness. I can take comfort, that it will pass. I can and do eventually stop crying. I do see the positive. And I do remember.
 My anniversary is next Tuesday. The 26th of April. My" friend" suggested we go out to dinner.  He said " Let's do something fun!" I was surprised, but grateful. Because really I had no idea what I was "going to do" That sinking feeling that "Oh no, another year without him has passed. Now what?" Instead, he is helping me to see the positive. Or what I want to move forward into. To celebrate Pete. The gift that he is/was. To look for the positive inn each day. And not the constant " Oh my gosh, this is what my life has become..." However Even though I strive for that I am realistic, that there will be moments like now where no matter how grateful I am that I am not in that place of barely surviving but that I really do just miss him so much.
  I go back to the "How can this be?" moment. The man walking across the street. The waiting for him to come around the corner..The wanting to just reach out far enough to touch him.. And it makes me wonder. It makes this grief this pain so real, again. All over again.
   I miss you Roo, Roo. I know, I always will. But I want to celebrate you too Roo. and I do, and I will. But for now in this moment. I really wish you were here...