The Crazy grumpy, cranky, and irrational.

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

My Craziness and my own Secret Garden...

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

  

A Crazy " if only.." thought.

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

Crazy stolen moments...

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

some Crazy thinking....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy Sight...

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

The crazy is gettin to me...

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