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.