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.