Craziness escapes from photographs.

The closer it gets to "those dates." The worse it gets. The memories, the questions, the grief.  I was online today and a family member posted an up-close picture of Pete. Its a beautiful picture of him. It captures his smile and his laughing eyes. However, I wasn't expecting to see his face and all the sudden there it was! It was like a punch to the gut.  It stole my breath. I almost dropped the computer and burst into a million tears.  It's unimaginable to think that seeing his picture could cause that kind of reaction. His beautiful laughing face., full of so much happiness and joy. I marveled in looking at his face and pictures of him and I together when he was alive. 
   Right after he passed I could NOT look at his pictures at all. It hurt too much. It made me nauseous. At the funeral home they had this huge life size photo of him. And I couldn't even look at it. It made me want to run around screaming.  I mean. I am sure that if I did, no one would have blamed me for doing that. But I couldn't move.  In many ways after seeing that picture, I feel in this moment that I have lost him all over again. Why does it have to be this way? Memories that flood my body and make it impossible to do anything but weep in missing him. I had hoped that by three years I could enjoy looking at pictures of him and sharing "good" times and stories together.  And I can, normally.  But since it is about a month until the Angel versary, and only a few days from the anniversary of him going into the hospital.  I can't seem to do any of that.  
     A friend of mine made photo albums for the kids, full of pictures of Pete and the kids and I.  I remember when she asked me to get some pictures together for her. I made myself do it because I knew how much the kids would love it. I could only glance at pictures of him. I ended up just handing her a box of pictures and said "I can't pick out any, feel free to just put which ever ones you think they would like." She made such a beautiful album. When she first gave them to the kids they really couldn't look at them either. Aryanna flipped through the pages, mumbled a thank you and put it on her shelf in her room. However as time passes she brings out her album more and more. It comforts her and she remembers moments when they were together. The pictures make her laugh and she remembers the fun things that we did together. I am forever grateful to my friend for so many reasons, but also for making these amazing albums.   The other night after I tucked the kids into bed I went back in to check on them. I found Aryanna asleep with hers. It was open to page of him with her sitting on his lap. It was propped up beside her and she was on her side. She had fallen asleep looking at a picture of him. I closed the album, pulled the covers up over her shoulder, and prayed that he came to visit with her in her dreams.
   I don't know why I had expected that at three years I wouldn't hurt as bad. I mean yes, in lots of ways We don't hurt the same. I think most widow's would say, that it truly doesn't ever go away. You just learn to live with the pain. And that's truly it. I have learned to live with his loss. And My kids have learned to live with his loss.  Everyone's grieving process is different. No one can ever understand your exact pain. But with grieving comes understanding for the other person's pain.  Like when I hear about a person who has lost a brother, or a parent, or even a grandparent. I have learned to be honest when I give my condolences. I usually say that while I don't understand your exact pain, I can sympathize with your loss and I am sorry for your pain. For each person grieving, the memento that they can't handle is different. For me it is a photograph. While others, only want to surround themselves with their loved ones pictures.
   I am grateful for all the lovely pictures that we have of Pete. I hope that someday I can pull out those pictures of him in frames that we had on our walls when he was alive. Someday I hope to surround myself in his handsome face again.  To look at his pictures  in length. Taking in every aspect of it. The place where it was taken, and why.  For now, looking at our children with his eyes looking back at me is enough of a reminder that he was here.  The memories I have of him in my mind, his eyes, his laughter, his smile. While this time of year is full of unexpected Craziness. I know that I am blessed for everything. His life, his love, and even tragically, his loss.  It was his life that blessed me. It was his life's exit that changed me. While I miss him every day with every breath. I have learned to live with the pain. Aryanna, Petey, and Chase Leo have learned to live with the pain. We don't want to, but we know in our core that he would want this for us. His life taught us to live.
     

Music for the Crazy...

I came across a CD that Pete and I used to listen to a lot. This time of year it seems to call my name. As if I crave it. Something about it draws me in and I cant stop until the sound of it touches my ears. There are many songs on this album that touch me for different reasons but one in particular seemed to stir my senses and be just what I needed.   The intricacy of this piece of music speaks to me in a way that words just can't. It touches my soul, my breath, my heart, my core. It comforts me and keeps me company. It shares my breathing space. I can focus only on it's complexity of each note and similar instruments. To the point of complete organized chaos. It distracts me and I get hypnotized by it. I can only think of  the vibration and how the sound touches my body. It Fills my brain, and I don't have to think. I don't have to feel. I can just be. There is no need for words. The is just beauty in rhythm and sound.
      The bass vibrates my chest. So that I can feel it thumping inside of me. I tap my foot in time with the music. Its powerful in its simplicity and complexity all at the same time. Maybe that is why I like it so much. It's like me Crazy and yet Sane. I leave behind my worries, and my fears. The unanswered questions that may never have answers. Time passes and stands still. Each time the bow is pulled across the strings it creates a new dimension of calm and complex. Key changes and  tempo changes, send chills through my body and I feel whole.
     What must it be like to have no knowledge of music. There is no need to see only feel. The bass, the treble, the feel of your hands on the guitar. The beauty of the violin. How it touches you and you don't even have to put your hands on it. I already know how it feels under my fingers. The strings smooth yet grainy. The depth in the instrument itself. Not just a single note but a cluster of them together in one slide across the strings.  The way it touches my ears, heart, and mind. To never play it the same way every time. The glory in listening to it live. It's always different  It's never performed the same way every time. Something you lose when a piece is recorded.  The power, the majestic sound rings in my ears. The tenacity in the performance, sheer joy and love that is portrayed in each musician. Their instrument is like their heartbeat. Like tunnel vision. Only the music breathes life into your core.
     This particular song has so many layers to it. Along with so many instruments. The mandolin, the violin, the guitar, how many can I focus in on at one time. It's the perfect kind of crazy. Organized and timed perfectly and in harmony. Complex, in tune, and layered with passion and heart.  Learning a new instrument is like grieving  At first it's a big old mess. Nothing makes sense. Everything is out of tune and sometimes you just don't know which end is up. However with practice, and patience. Your fingers get calloused to protect your fingers on the strings. Kind of like your heart. It builds its own callous. So you can learn to function again.  Callouses make your fingers tough and callouses on your heart show you what your made of. With each practice session you learn something new. How to hold the instrument so you don't strain your neck. How to tune it so you no longer hurt your ears and every one else around you. You learn to read the music.
Soon you play a very short yet simple song. The pride you feel in accomplishing that small task is enough to propel you forward to keep going back to your lesson.  Each week, something new. Often times you can get stuck. The piece is too hard. The rhythm is all off, and you break a string.  There is yelling, crying and possibly throwing things. Yet I remember why I loved to begin with. With tears in my eyes, I sit down to play. This time as I play I can feel myself settling into the piece. Passion fills my song and I play as if I have never loved or played before.
     This life takes patience and time and most of all love. Love for myself, love for my children, love for the man who now has angel wings and love for the man that angel sent to me.  For it was he who started it to begin with, when he left me here. I know, he never wanted to hurt all of those left behind. However. I now see that it was in his leaving that I had to learn to find a new song. One that would toughen me up in ways I never thought possible. Surprisingly,  it also showed me love, a new perspective, and a life I never thought I would have.  So while I sit here at times crying over the out of tune and lack of rhythm.  I know I find peace in its complexity and simplicity. Its the best kind of music around. Its music for the crazy, performed by the crazy.
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQ2p04GWGEk   Nickel Creek  "House Of Tom Bombadil"
* Complex and Sane*
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9e97do2cM6Y Nickel Creek "Pastures New"
*Close your eye's, breathe deep, and feel*

Free and Crazy...

 I finally took a break for a couple days. I went to Story Indiana. If you have never been, you should go. Take the whole family. Or just take yourself and go.  A hidden treasure in the woods. I felt free, and safe. Like a little kid, I saw the open fields and I wanted to run as far as I could. Fill my lungs with the wind and the trees, feel the sun touch my skin. Breathe in the new and exhale the old, the exhausted, the completely worn out.  I could picture myself standing in the middle of the field surrounded by trees. My arms stretched up high and my eyes taking in the beauty of the sky. I close my eyes and I see a golden ball of light drop down from the heavens and into my soul. It fills me with warmth and wraps ribbons around my body. The sense of peace and joy is overwhelming. Finally a sense that its really OK. I am safe. I can breathe easy here. No worries, no grief, just love.  The wind whips through my hair and lifts it off my neck. My curls fly wild in every direction. It fills me with laughter and I can't help but smile. The sky is blue and the clouds look like big pillows in the sky. I am happy, I am free.
   It was an amazing experience unlike one I have had in almost 4 years.  I didn't worry about my kids, I didn't worry about the places I needed to be, the things I should be doing, or the networking I should be doing.. Nothing. I didn't even have cell service. Which at times was hard when I wanted to talk to the kids. I was seriously footloose and fancy free. The food was amazing, the people were friendly and treated J and I like family. It's no wonder my dad runs away to Story every chance he gets.
     The one problem, Now it's time to come back to reality. And I really don't want to. I mean I understand that people love vacation and say that it's so hard to come home. But, this was more that just a vacation. This was a break. Can you imagine never having a break in three years. Never slowing down? Never stopping to smell the roses? I am a constant worrier. I wasn't worried. I enjoyed my life in that moment. Right. Where. I was. We were two people running around not caring about the rest of the world.  I finally stopped. I stood still, and I didn't fall down. I breathed. I finally came to understand what it means to breathe and just let go and enjoy. Everything else just melted away. No pain, no anxieties, no utter and complete gaping wound, just peace. I felt it. I really felt peace. Not just putting a band aide over my heart. But, I found the salve to put on my heart and allow it to sink in fully. To absorb and heal the spots that still feel raw and irritated  For a moment I didn't hurt.  I left it all behind.
    The question remains, How to take that salve and serene and apply it to this reality?  Back to the hustle and bustle of this every day life. Doctor appointments, bills to pay, people to call,  make dinner, do 2nd grade home work. Put out fires, break up fights. referee the children. on and on it goes.  I sat in my kitchen tonight looking at the floor just wishing for it all to just slow down. I feel as if I just learned to breathe over the weekend. I want to embrace it and pull it towards me and into my body. Along with three squishy wiggly kids and their sweet smiles.  I want it all to just stop for a minute. I don't want it to go backwards or forwards, just stay right here.   How can I be back in this space where he isn't? How do I remember to let go of the worry?
     I keep jumping back and forth in my mind to that place in the field with my arms stretched out. I want that and I want this too. I like my freedom and I love being a mom.  I didn't understand the fullness of really letting my hair down. I haven't stopped to just let the earth heal me. I feel that I have been in constant  motion for 2.5 years. constantly moving, just keep moving. To me there is only one way to get through it. Keep going, don't stop! Like trudging through snow. I cant feel my toes, but I know that if I just keep walking I will be home soon. Where a warm fire, hot chocolate and smiling faces await me. Move forward one step at a time, The uphill climb starts to even out and for a little bit I can catch my breath. For a little bit the cold air that I breathe in doesn't hurt my lungs so bad.  However my toes are frozen, I hit a rock and fall on my face. I stand up and my forehead is bleeding. I am hurt and frozen but I know, I know, my house isn't far.  If I can just keep going. Keep going for me, and keep going for those who are counting on me.  I feel that in this past weekend, for a couple of days, I found that warm home. It didn't have the same faces, and these people didn't count on me for everything. These faces came to serve me.  I found a place to relax, warm up, and feed my soul from the inside out.  I left the cold and the snow outside. I took off my heavy wet clothes and snow covered boots and hung them up to dry by the fire. I washed my cut on my heart, put my FC5 conditioning oil on and allowed it to sink into every layer. To ease, and heal one layer at a time.   I am forever grateful for the experience not just for the cabin the woods but for all of it. The walk in the snow, the bruise on my heart.  If it weren't for the excruciating pain, I may have never known what it was like to breathe and feel full.  I know, I am crazy... But for a little while I  found a new kind of free that I didn't know I had and it touched me in a way I won't soon forget.

*Free* By: Zac Brown Band

So we live out of our old van
Travel across this land
Just me and you

We'll end up hand and hand
Somewhere down on the sand
Just me and you

*Just as Free
Free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be

Drive until the city lights
Dissolve into the country sky
Just me and you

Lay Underneath the Harvest Moon
Do all the things that lovers do
Just me and you

*Just as free
Free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be and ever...

No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money
No we don't have a lot of money

All we need is Love.....

*Just as free as we'll ever be
Free as we'll ever be
Just as free
Free as we'll ever be

So we will live out of our old van
Travel all across this land
Just me and you

Crazy wishing and learning..

Today I have found myself having many "Pete Moments." I will explain. Earlier today I was talking with a friend about being pregnant with Chase Leo and how I ate mostly Halloween candy.  I told her that I remembered my OB saying "why don't you try some more protein." I joked with my doctor and said "well there are Peanuts in a lot of the candy!"  Halloween candy was my comfort food for awhile, while Pete was in the hospital. My "Pete Moment" came when I remembered thinking... when Pete gets home we will laugh about my Halloween candy fetish. The problem was he never came home and I never got the chance to re tell him that story.. I found myself having that thought again.. Wait, he never came home did he. As if the reality of that story and all the things I wanted to tell him are sinking in. I can't just say to him..  hey, remember that time when you were sick..
   Another Pete Moment came after dinner. I was talking with J about his day and he was telling me about this cold that he has. How he had been coughing so much today that his back hurt. I must have had this look on my face, he looked at me and said "What, what are you thinking?" I said "Thats just how Pete started out, with a cold."  It was a very strange feeling.. I was taken backwards, I had to get away. I went outside to get the mail. The tears flooded my eyes. My tears didn't last long but it was enough to make an impact and leave a wound.
  Why so many moments? I have to chalk it up to Back to school time. Another school year, another milestone. It means fall is coming and so is 3 years.   Someone asked me the other day if I was looking forward to school starting. I said yes, and no. Yes, because it will be nice to have a more set schedule, and a little more freedom to myself. I will have two kids in school this year. Aryanna all day and Petey half day every day. So, for a few hours of the day it will be just Chase Leo and me.  On the no side of the question.. because it means that summer is over, and it means they are getting bigger. But, I know that they are ready to see their friends, and learn new things. I Guess for me I didn't realize how much getting everyone ready really does affect me too. It's another trip to the bus stop at the beginning of the school year. Looking at her thinking My girl is so big. and wishing with every ounce of my being that he was here to see her walk down to the bus. See her put on her new school clothes. Wishing he could physically go to her school and meet her teacher, see her classroom, and her desk where she will sit. All of these things may seem so small to the average person, but to me, and to her, they are huge. God, I wish he was here. And still for the life of me I cannot believe that he hasn't physically held her little self to him in almost 3 years. She was 4 and a half when he died and now she is 7 years old, going into the second grade and he is not here to see it! I know she feels it. But I wish I could see him, see her so big. Yet I know he is so proud of her, i wish she could hear him say that to her.
  Its in this moment, I sit here with tears pouring down my face. I wish I could tell him so many things. I wish I could vocalize to him all the hurts, and the scared of everything, but also all the joys and the laughter too. it's more that just missing him. It's wishing I could just see his face, hear his laughter and look in his eyes. I want to see him look at the kids and see the wonder of who they have become. To hold them and laugh with them. I still find it so baffling that even in all the moving forward and building a new life, cherishing the small accomplishments  and seeing the world through new eyes, he really didn't come home from the hospital.  Really? Really? Will it ever sink in?
  The thoughts keep going through my head tonight.. I wish, oh but I just wish....  I am so grateful for where I am today. It is so much better than the beginning of last school year. I walk with more confidence, a new strength in the things that I have seen, and created for myself. I know that God was right there with me. And I know that Pete was too. However I still wonder so many things. The thoughts that creep in, the places we wanted to go and the memories of the things I wanted to share with him. Sure I still talk to him as if he is physically standing right beside me. But,, I miss his advice, his laughter, and the way he loved me.
     I was trying to explain to another friend of mine yesterday that I felt that my widowhood felt very much in my face.  I had started out my day with a prayer. Bring people into my life that I may be able to help and serve in some way. However it ended up that random people helped me instead.  Chase Leo walked away from me while I was unlocking the car.  One minute he was in the stroller the next he wasn't. I freaked out.  I looked away for a split second and he was gone. I called for him three times,  the woman across the way said "he is over here." I looked at her with such gratitude. I wanted to run over and hug her. I said" thank you, so much, I am incredibly grateful. She said "It's OK. I have been there myself." I hugged Chase Leo so close. and then looked at him and said  Don't walk away from Mommy like that. you scared Mommy. I got the kids all buckled in and I sat in the car not remembering where we were driving to next. It took several minutes but I finally felt calm and off we went. We went to pick up some lunch.  I got all the kids back in the car and realized I forgot the silverware. I knew we weren't going home, so I needed to go back in. But I didn't want to take them all back inside with me. I stood there while a woman and her three children came out to their car. I had just seen them in the restaurant. I said "Oh shoot I forgot the forks." The woman looked at me and said" I would be happy to wait with your little ones while you run in."  I thanked her a million times. Ran like lightning, into the restaurant got a fork and ran out. When I came out. she said "I have been there." I talked with her for a few minutes. found out that her girls were twins and her son was 2 years older than the twins. Her children were in middle school. But she looked at me and said Yes, I remember having three little ones at home, I am happy to help."   When I had explained all of this to my friend she said "I don't understand why you feel the way you do, just because someone helped you?"  The problem is that she wouldn't understand it. And thankfully, she doesn't. For me being in the thick of widowhood. I was constantly needing help from random people. It was as if I had a sign on my face that said "yes, I am a widow and a bit out of sorts, feel free to help me."  However, I don't want to be in that position any more. I want to be the one to help someone else. I want to be that helping hand, I don't want to be the damsel in distress. I want to stand on my own and raise my children without someone looking over my shoulder to make sure I am doing it right. I want my Widow Wear back but instead I want it to read "Widow survivor, how can I help and serve you."  or  "Widow! Seriously, I have been there"
   I feel insane. I know I may even sound that way. Maybe I should be the insane red haired lady. I wish for him here, but I want to stand on my own.  The thing is that after everything, all the pain, and the scared, and the questions. I am now in this moment learning who I am.  It really is a journey of endless questions, memories that haunt me, and moments of just wanting him to hold my hand. The thing is that before Pete passed I was happy with him doing everything. Now, I want to do it too. I don't want to follow anymore, I want to lead. I would have wanted him to "Stand beside me, not in front of or behind me, I want a man to stand beside me" (*JoDee Messina*)  Maybe that is what all of these memories, and moments, and realizations are about.  For me, I lost my whole world.  However I am now learning to build a new one. I miss Pete beyond anything I could ever put into words. But, I am stronger, I am smarter in ways that I never knew, and I am more confident than I ever thought I could be.  Most of all I am grateful.  I still wish he was here for me and for the kids. I will probably always wish that. I may always be crazy or insane for that matter, But I have learned much and through that I hope that someday I can live up to my original prayer to help and serve others.. I would love to be able to help someone the way that so many have helped me. I guess that no matter you're loss, or our crazy life circumstances. Maybe we all long to be that helping hand. Like those women who remember what it was like to have their child walk away from them or to constantly have their hands full that they often forgot something.  I know that I am grateful for random kindness in people, and  for the love I had with Pete. For the amazing man, father, and friend that he was.  The time we had with him will never have been long enough.  I wish it could have been more. However, The new school year brings, a new year of learning not just for Second grade, and Kindergarten, but also in our new and crazy life as well. With Wonder and band-aides we step forward. We walk in Faith, Love,and the whispering sound of Angel wings. 

Another Crazy Insight.

What is it about milestones that make me feel like I have taken three steps back? The hollow and the empty of what once was and will never be again seem to haunt my thoughts this evening. All these ideas of growing and changing along with doing our best to emotionally and physically  move  forward, seem to come to a screeching halt when a milestone comes and then passes. Aryanna turned 7 years old on Monday. It seems crazy to think that Pete hasn't seen her in 3 years. It's amazing how big and grown up she is. The way she talks with her hands like I do, or the way she explains things, or even the way she invents new concepts to old ideas. She is like her daddy, and she is like me. I hope for her sake there comes a time when her birthday's aren't so anxiety provoking for her. She spent most of Monday following me around and wanting to be held. She was like my own personal shadow. By the time that her party rolled around in the evening she was better and ready to play. But by evening when the thrill of the party was over, she was needing extra cuddles. It wasn't until the next day late afternoon that she said it "I miss daddy" All I could say was "I know bug... I do too."
    It's in these moments of reflection when I think of her first birthday without him. She was turning 5 years old. I went looking through some old photo's to see if I could find some baby pictures of her. I stumbled across pictures from her 5th birthday. He eyes so vacant, and empty. She was here but emotionally she wasn't. Looking at those pictures took my breath and hurt my heart. I then clicked on a photo of her now. Her bright eyes shining, and her smile filled with laughter. It makes my heart fill with love and pride. For the big and courageous girl that she is now and has always been. Even though I am so grateful for all of these things, there will always be a part of me that longs for Pete, for the love we had for each other and for our life we had with our children together.
   Unless you are a window or widower you can't understand this kind of longing. That no amount of moving forward, changing, and growing will ever take away from that part of you that died right along with your spouse. In recent days I have been confronted by other people who don't understand my choice for loving again. I have come to the conclusion that what they think doesn't matter. It's not about them. It's not their life to live. It's mine. It's also realizing that these "friend" never really knew me to begin with. They never really took the time to look inside of me and at the core of who I was, and am. It was just only on the surface. Again what is it about time and reflection that one can really see other's true motives when they finally meet them head on. It's in these last few days of change, and milestones that I have found  new insights about myself and to the future that I hold in my hands, in my heart, and in my children's lives.  I don't owe an explanation to anyone. They have not walked in my shoes, they have not walked my path, they are not me. They don't see the world through my eyes or my children's eyes for that matter.  With change comes new relationships, new perspectives, new motivations, and new joy.  And yet the emptiness remains. Another milestone come and gone, an old relationship that is forever changed due to lack of insight, information and pride.
  So what do I do with this new insight? I do what I usually do. Absorb it, feel it, and then let it pass. Realizing I cannot stop the milestones from coming, but I can stop allowing others to push me down in ways that make them feel better. It's letting go of the "old" ways. It's moving forward again one step at a time. Even though on this day I feel like I am walking through molasses carrying a 2.5 year old on my hip and holding hands with a now 7 year old and a 5 year old. Its turning my eyes back towards the sun and feeling its warmth on my face. It's being able to know that I am blessed with not having to walk this journey alone. To have some one to hug me tight when I feel that I just can't go forward today. It's that gentle nudge that I feel from Pete's spirit whispering in my ear, I believe in you , I always have. But most importantly it's knowing that I have courage in myself, that I believe in myself, and I will continue to push forward, to look into the future with hope. It's that feeling I hold onto that I have learned to hold my ground keeping it steady for Aryanna, Petey, and Chase Leo.  So what to do with this day of molasses and empty feelings? I remember that tomorrow is a new day full of hope and new beginnings. After all it is my crazy journey and I am learning to enjoy the moment.

Crazy loud...

I hurt today more than I have in months. Like my insides have been ripped out. It doesn't matter how they fell out, its the after math. I struggle today with picking up the pieces. I want to sit and lick my wounds. Something I am not prone to doing. Sometimes it doesn't seem to matter how big the picture is, it's realizing you can never please everyone. even in grief. It's my pain. It's my path. And while it may have not been ment to beat me with words or to slash at me, I am an easy target.  I also realize that in a few days I will be able to find a compromise and do so with love and joy.  But for now, I feel the loss as if it happened yesterday. I want to shout and scream that If only he had lived. But he didn't and how long are we going to argue about doing things the "old way" He is not physically here!! I won't stand still and live my life around what if he had lived, or what would he do if he was here. I will not shut off myself, shut out my heart to love. I will not stop happiness from flowing. I will not do that to my kids and I will not do that to this family. It doesn't honor him in any way.  While the rage and frustration of what is,  boils up inside of me and wants to just explode all over the situation doesn't do anyone any good.
   The fact remains the same., I hurt. I miss him. I wish to God he would just step down from the heavens and talk to me. I don't want some one else's opinion about what they think is right. I want Pete. There is only one me. And how it hurts me, is my path and my lesson.. I don't feel that I am entitled by any means. I am just tired of being the punching bag for when things go wrong. Whether is is by my own mind or by someone else,  grief is hard. It's all hard. My hurt is not worse than any one else's. . It still hurts 2.5 years later. It still hurts, and moving forward is not easy, but I do it for Pete, I do it for my children.  To grow, to live, to love, to see the beauty of what once was and what is now. However on this day I feel so sad and so lonely for him that I want to shout until I am hoarse.  I want to run so fast away from all this hurt. leave the parts of me that are aching and scarred on the sidewalk. The parts of me that are full of anger and frustration. Just run To feel only the my ragged breath inside my lungs. Wishing for rain to pour from the sky washing those parts on the ground soothing the red and raw, leaving them peaceful and cool. So that on my way back to where I dropped them I can pick them up, dry them off and put them back in place. Refreshed and ready to start again.
   I know that in time I will get out of my corner, take a deep breath. I will turn around to the music that is on full blast that vibrates me to the core. I will do it with love in my heart, and a sparkle in my eye. With kids in hand and one on my hip. I know that through all the crazy loud there is a soft sound in my right ear. It's the sound of Angel wings. It's those wings that wrap around us, it's that hidden strength the propels us forward. To honor him and life he wants us to live. For he lives through each of us.   

Crazy Reflections....

Many people find funerals as a time of reflection. One remembers the life of that person and how they changed your life or changed those people around you. Often people think about their own mortality. For me, it has brought up things that I have blocked out about Pete's funeral. It seems the more I remember about the day of his service, the more I remember other things about the days before.  I have often thought to myself, "Why can't I remember those things?" Now that I am having these flashback moments, I wish I wasn't seeing them and feeling them again.  However I do feel blessed not to have the same reaction. That whole feeling of "Why am I here, and How can this be happening?"  Although, I do still have that disbelief feeling  as I watch these memories replay in my mind of "how did I really stand there and not fall down?" 

   My mom's husband passed away on May 26th.  His memorial service was held on May 31st. It was a nice service. The music was beautiful and words that the minister spoke of, a life in reflection.  I thought at the time that I was prepared for the funeral. Wrapping myself in a protective wall around my heart and soul as to not take on any one else's grief. Being the empathetic and sensitive being that I am, I have to prepare and protect, to remain in the present moment. So that I could be there to support my mom in her time of loss and heartache. I was doing a great job at first. I walked into the parlor of the church. I said hello to my sisters and gave my mom a hug. I gave my condolences to his side of the family. I smiled and nodded, trying to remain light and cheery. I was doing great until my eyes fell upon an 8 week old baby and my step faltered. My breath caught, my heart skipped a beat, and I remembered....  It was like falling down a hole similar to Alice in Wonderland. 

   All the sudden, there I was. Standing in a purple, white and black outfit resting my hands on my big belly. Standing next to a life size picture of Pete, and next to that life size photo, was a closed casket. Even now my heart races at this memory. I want to run away, as if I am not seeing it. Like in a scary part of a movie wishing to hit the fast forward button but I can't find the remote. I stood there smiling and shaking hands. My eyes empty. I would see people that I know I knew but I couldn't remember their names. I was standing next to a chair that everyone kept trying to get me to sit in. I couldn't understand why they wanted me to sit so badly. As if sitting was going to make it any easier. I would still be inside of that damn mortuary beside my husband who should have been alive! Why the hell would it matter if I sat down. I can see it so clear now. And yet I cant tell you who was there. I still sometimes will see people I haven't seen in a few years and they will mention being at his funeral and I will be like "You were there?" Where was I? 

      While all of these things passed through my mind in mere seconds, it felt like another life. I pulled in my heart, my thoughts, and did the best I could to slap that wall back up. That wall that now had a crack in it, right down the middle. I put on a smile and walked into the church with my sisters, family and close friends. I sat there and tried not to listen. Of course one knows what happens when you try hard not to do something. You listen and think anyway. Finally the service was over and back into the parlor to meet, greet, and thank. This time I stayed on one side of the parlor and tried not to wander over close to the adorable and yet tiny baby on the other side of the room.  As if avoiding her was going to make it any better. The problem was, that it had nothing to do with the baby. It was me. It was my memories that I have been running from. Or blocking out and refusing to see. But really I don't think that's it either. I was not refusing to see them. I just wasn't strong enough to absorb them. I guess that says something. I am strong enough now to "see" them and feel them. 

    I came home after the service changed my clothes and hugged my kids. I talked to J about my experience and the tears that couldn't flow at the time of realization, now were falling freely. J held my hand as I talked about reliving my moments. The fear is still there, the sad, the despair, and some of that terrible creepy feeling I had. That I Would not stand too close to that casket. I mean I didn't even want to look at it. I remember thinking "Why, he is my husband. My whole world, my other half." I know why, I couldn't absorb it. I couldn't let the reality touch me. It was too much and I was trying my best to make it to term with this baby.   

    One of the major things I realized however, is that no matter when you remember or how far out you get from the Angelversary, those moments will always be hard. They will always be scary. Which surprises me and baffles me at the same time. I am happy now. The kids and I have come through an amazing, life altering and epic experience. My kids and I feel as if we are finally healing. Why the pain? Why be scared?  For me I feel that I am figuring it out. Its scary for me because, I couldn't feel the scared at the time. I couldn't feel anything other than complete, utter, and total loss. He died and I did too. I was just a shell of a woman. I looked like Kathryn, but she wasn't there, Not. At. All.  I was that song "When you're lost and alone and you're sinking like a stone, carry on, carry on" (Fun. "Carry on")   It's because I can feel again, I can live again, I can laugh again, I can breathe, sing, and feel joy again.  That's why. I can feel, so I can heal.  I am in a place that is safe. My daughter can look at me and say "I miss Daddy" and I can say "I know Bug, I do too." But it doesn't break us the same way it did before. We can still miss him, but we don't have that same terrible gut wrenching moments of complete despair that we are all constantly feeling and thinking. I can hold her close and whisper in her ear, I know your Daddy would be so proud of you.  These are things I never thought I would be able to say to her or to him without throwing up, from the fact that I had to say them at all.  It's knowing that we can, heal, grow and learn to love, in all aspects of our life. 

    These two funerals I have been to, they were a month a part. They have brought up many emotions, and memories that I thought they wouldn't.  I should know better to always expect the unexpected. And while these last few days I have been pushing out my thoughts and trying to push forward at a "gung ho" pace. It's in this moment that I can see what a blessing these were in disguise. I learned to feel new and old things. I learned that I could go to a funeral and not be a big panic mess. (which is what I always thought would happen) And I learned a new form of healing. 

    In every breath I will always think of Pete. With every smile and milestone my children make and reach I think of him. I see him in them, and I can smile.  My heart still breaks when I think of a moment that he is not physically here to see it. I still long to touch his face, hold his hand, or rub his goatee. However I am so blessed to have loved him and unfortunately to have lost him. I know though that in every breath I take from this moment on, I am healing.  A,P, and CL, are healing.  With every memory that is brought forward, with every tear that drops from our eyes, and with every time we open our hearts a little more we accept love. Love from a man who once was, Love from a man who is now, combined with the four of us into one. We will reflect, live, and heal.