If I should die ......

.... before I wake ..... please know that I accidentally poisoned myself.  With that flea and tick crud that you put on the back of your dog's neck.  You know the kind.  Well, I put the monthly dose on Gabby's neck and then took her to Dr. M's house to stay for a couple of nights.  And then .... I kissed her on the top of the head to say good-bye.

The bad news --- I think I poisoned myself.

The good news --- I shouldn't have fleas or ticks for a month (although it now occurs to me that that bonus won't really matter if I'm dead.  Sheesh.  Forget the good news).

OK, so maybe I won't die, but my lips, tongue and and cheeks are all kind of tingling/burning.

But just in case, someone sue one of those companies for me, OK?

Gabby is gone because I'm heading out tomorrow to our staff retreat, which I'm really looking forward to.  It will be nice to have something to focus on besides the kid who's trying to guilt me into coming to get him.

Don't worry -- my head knows that there's know way on God's green earth that I'm letting him come home.  But my heart ..... is very tired.

It would be nice to catch a break.  Really.  Maybe just until the end of the year?

Since I will be out of blogdom until Tuesday, I've decided to write my Monday post a bit early.  

Do not, I repeat, do NOT read the Monday post until Monday.

I'm not kidding.

Bandages and wounds

This picture was taken Thanksgiving Day, 2006.  I think it was the last whole family picture we took.  That makes me sadder than I can say.

     Well,  we did not blow away.  I hate to be the one who says, "I told you so." but ...... wait, who the heck am I kidding?!!  I LOVE to be the one who says that!!!  Ha to all of the panicking people out there!

     We did absolutely nothing today.  It rained all day and I stayed in my jammies until 4:00.  

Yay for tropical storms that just peter out during the day.

     Tonight I went to dinner with my new group of friends.  There were 4 of us and next week there may be more.  Four women who like each other's company and are all members of the same sucky club.  We hate this club.  We like each other very much.

  R came, of course.  This was our 3rd time together.  S came with me, this was her first time. And then K came.  She's brand new.  To us and to this sucky club.  Her husband died 3 weeks ago.  She's 28.  Twenty-freaking-eight.  sigh

     We talked a lot.  We listened a lot.  I am so glad we have found each other.  We hate that we had to find each other but we're glad that we did.  Hard to explain .... unless you're a member.  I hope you never become a member.

    

      I know this is getting redundant, but I miss Jim.  It never goes away.  It never gets better.  My outside looks great, though.  I bet there are quite a few people who look at me and think, "She seems to be doing pretty well."   Well, that and about $20,000 (back in the 80's) would get you a BA in Theatre.  As they used to say on SNL in the "old days", "ACTING!!!"

     This is not to say that my life sucks.  It does not.  I have my children and they are healthy.  They all love God and they are ALL great kids.  I am so thankful that God loaned them to Jim and I.  I hope we've mostly done Him proud.

     I have a home (granted, it looks like it's been through parts of WWII, but it's a great home).  I have wonderful family members --- lots of them, and they love me.   I have lots of wonderful friends.  Lots.  More than one person should have, I think. 

     I had the most wonderful husband in the world .... for a long time.  Not long enough, but it will have to do.  He was not perfect .... not at all.  But he was a good man.  He was a great father and a wonderful husband.  His love will last me for the rest of my life.  It has to.

     I have a God who is The God.  He walks me through this valley..... sometimes He carries me.

     So I am aware of the blessings in my life.  There are more than I can list.  But I am also aware of the gaping wound in me ..... the hole in my life.  The wound that will never heal.  Never.  I may learn to bandage it better, to camouflage it with makeup, but it will never heal.  

We all have our wounds.

Some have better bandages than others.

I miss .....

**Update:  Nat gave me an idea --- for those of you who knew him/us, would you please tell me what you miss?

Thanks.

..... this face.  I miss this look.  I miss his presence. I miss his humor.  I miss his fathering.  I miss his voice.  I miss his support.  I miss his companionship.   I miss his friendship.   I miss his lips.  I miss his arms.  I miss his sarcasm.  I miss his wisdom.  I miss his tardiness.  I miss his frustrations over work.  I miss his humbleness.  I miss his leadership.  I miss his laundry.  I miss his dislike of cats.  I miss his phone calls.  I miss his "I love you".   I miss him waking me up to kiss me goodbye every morning.  I miss falling asleep with him every night.  

I miss his unconditional, forever love.

I miss more of him than I can list.

I miss ......... him.

Oh.  So.  Very.  Much.

Just because ......

..... this made me smile and cry at the same time, I wanted to share it.  It's amazing and I could watch it over and over.

I hope you enjoy it.

Christian, the Lion

Time for a reminder

Warning:  this is a very honest and long post.  Continue at your own risk and don't think I'm speaking to a specific person.

     I think that's it time for a reminder on the kinds of things to say and to not say. 

      It seems that, as time goes on, friends and acquaintances seem to feel freer to give advise or maybe what they think is "encouragement".  

      I have to say that I love my friends dearly and don't know how I'd have coped this long without them.  Each is different and each helps in their own unique way.  And I'm not just talking about my so-called "inner circle" (I hate that phrase).  When I use the word "friend" I'm  talking about friends who say hi at church, or the grocery store, or tennis courts, etc.  I'm talking about Jim's friends and co-workers and school board members.  I consider all of you to be my friends -- our friends.  And I am not talking about one, or two, or even six people.  It seems to be a common thing and something I've probably even done in the past.  I know that you say and do every single thing out of love and only out of love.  But I'm continuing my attempt to be honest here.  Very, very honest.  You've all encouraged me to do that and I hope that you really mean it.  Because I need it.

But what I need from you is you, not your advice or fear of what I'm facing or not facing.  Not your fear that I'm in or out of counseling.  Not your fear that my relationship with my children is not what it should be.  Not your fear that my children are not talking enough.  Not of how I will feel in the future at certain events or when things happen.

   

     This is because you - have - no - idea.  None.  You are not in my shoes and you cannot give me advise unless I ask for it.  Please.   

I am doing the best I can.  It may not be not be what your best would be, but it's the best I can do.  And frankly, I think I'm doing pretty damn good, all things considered.  And so are my kids.  And so are my kids AND me.

      Another widow sent me this writing and I'm going to post it here (the author is unknown).  Many of the things she writes are things I've already posted here, but some are different.

I hope that you all remember that I love you and, again, there is NO finger pointing here.  I think this happens with most grieving people.  It seems to be quite common.  That's all I'm going to say, other than I need you.  All of you.  Each of you.

And I just thought it was time for a reminder (All emphases are mine). 

HOW YOU CAN HELP ME

Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more
comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk
about him, and I need to do it over and over.

Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get
comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know
when my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.

Don't abandon me with the excuse that you don't want to upset me. You
can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid
to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I
most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come
over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You
can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you
to know that."

Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I
feel only if you really have time to find out.

I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel
that you don't see me.

I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm
grieving and that's different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after
my loved one's death. Don't think that I will be over it in a year. For
I am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was
with him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our
children and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same.

I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my
loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and
love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be,
and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear.
Both are okay.

I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has
happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just
not acceptable.

When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and
alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't
make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.

Please don't tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start
dating again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. And besides,
what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't. Whoever comes after will always be someone different.

I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get
on with your life." My life is going on, I've been forced to take on
many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think
it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So
please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and
support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget
and there will always be times that I cry.

I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your
hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need
to know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief in
my own way, and in my own time.

Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you
because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could
do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you
some ideas:

(a) Bring food or a movie over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the
anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can't
make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the
opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I
may say no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given up
then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples,
to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations where I used to feel so comfortable.

Please don't judge me now - or think that I'm behaving strangely.
Remember I'm grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel
deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I'm
experiencing a pain unlike any I've ever felt before and one that can't
be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.

Don't worry if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to
slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don't tell me you know how I feel, or that it's time for me to get on with my life. What I need now is time to grieve.

Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank
you for praying for me.

And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss - when you need me as I have needed you - I will understand. And then I will come and be with you.

Another first

Well, it's been almost 7 months and today I had another first.  I dreamed last night, and this morning, that Jim was back.  Actually it was like I had been dreaming the whole thing, a dream within a dream, I guess.  He was here and I was SO glad to have woken up and not be living in a nightmare.  I couldn't take my eyes off of him.  I felt so joyful and thankful.

And here's the first part:

When I woke up this morning I actually didn't know I was dreaming.  It took me a couple of minutes to realize that the dream wasn't real.  The nightmare -- totally is.

It was so strange.

But it was also a little nice.  For just a moment or so I was able to not be living in it.  I was happy.  And so relieved.

It's very difficult to explain.

I can't believe it's taken almost 7 months for that to happen.

I hate this nightmare and I so, so, SO want to wake up.

Someone please ----- please wake me up.

Bittersweet

This is Jim and Son #1, on the farm .... 1991.

I love it here with J & L. I love spending time with them and I love that they are a part of Jim. But it also makes me sad. J is spending a lot of time playing football and catch with the boys. It's great to watch them but it also hurts. Jim used to do that. He loved throwing the football with the boys.
This is one of those heart lows. My heart feels low. Hard to explain but maybe you get the picture.
Very, very bittersweet. Today I can not believe that he's not here.

But I will move ahead with the post. Or actually, backwards. Here are some pictures from yesterday:

This is Son #3, who begged me to take his picture here because the Oscar Meyer-mobile was in the parking lot behind him. Go. Figure.


And here he is being brave and asking the Oscar Meyer driver if he could please sit in the front seat so that I can take his picture (I urged him to ask). Mr. Oscar Meyer said no. Really, he actually told this cute-faced boy "no". He even told ME "no" when I asked. What?! Like he was going to hi-jack the bologna-mobile?!!
Again -- go figure.


Here's a balloon going over the back yard:


Here are Sons #1 & #3 in an English phone booth that, for some strange reason, is in Carlsbad:



Here's Son #3 next to a cool tree in said town:


Here's a shot of the tree, looking up. I'm not sure what type of tree it is, but it was interesting.


Daughter #2:


Son #3 and S. They made great sand castles:


My two mentally unbalanced younger sons, swimming in the freezing water. C'mon, you can tell it's cold from just looking!


Our group, plus the "boot".



So there you have it. That was yesterday. Today we've hung around the house and the pool. I'm not sure what's up for tomorrow. The kids and I will go to Disney Land one day this week.
I'd appreciate your prayers. I don't want to be sad here.
Sad in paradise.
Go figure.

A beachy morning

I miss this man.

We went to the beach this morning. Picture a beach (that was for you, Mom). Picture a beach where I'm sitting on a chair, wearing a sweat shirt, pants and wrapped in a huge beach towel because it's COLD!!! It did warm up after about an hour and after the haze burned off. And then it was very nice.
We stayed a couple of hours and then came home to chill before dinner in Carlsbad. It was good Mexican food (which is a bit different than our TexMex).

Now we're home and relaxing some more. I'm still on Texas time so it's about 9:00 here but my body is saying it's 11:00 PM and it's time to go to bed!

L's sister has been here visiting this week. She stayed a couple of extra days so that we could spend some time together. She's really neat and S loves her "Auntie M" a lot. She's nicer than her "Auntie J". She's single so she has much more patience than I do. And she's younger and a lot more fun. Oh well ..... that's why I brought the kids.
S LOVES Son #3. She wants him around all of the time. He's been really good with her. Especially for a 13 year old boy.

Of course, it could just be that his brain was frozen today in the ocean.

I hate this word:

Jim, me and the boys in Alaska

..... widow.
I hate it ... I really do. Why? Good question. So here's my response -- another question: What does the word "widow" bring to your mind? To mine it's someone who's much, much older than I am. Someone with whom I have nothing in common, other than the fact that we don't have our husbands. I think of a widow as someone who had her husband for at least 50 years. They had raised their children, played with their grandchildren, retired and then traveled. They enjoyed each other's company for a long, long time. Not just almost 27 years.

I don't want to be a widow, let alone be thought of as one. I wish there was another word that describes me now. Well, aside from the obvious ones: grieving, lost, not whole, hurt, surviving, etc.

Maybe I should conduct another poll --- think of another word. A word that describes my new station in life.
And good luck.

P.S. I'm supposed to post an easy recipe so here's the easiest one I know --- Peanut butter cookies ---
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg

Bake at 350 for about 15-20 minutes.

And no, you don't use flour!!

That's it. Have fun!!

A little bit legal -- and a whole lot crazy

Here is the proud daddy with Son #1, eighteen years ago. Just a few hours before I got peed in the face. Ahhhh, boys.

Well, a few momentous occasions down, a couple more to go. Tomorrow is our 25th anniversary. Words cannot express what I am feeling.

Today, Daughters #2 & #3, my mom and I celebrated Jim by doing something totally nuts. Yes, we did indeed get tattoos. Jim is up in heaven having a conniption fit. But heck, I figure it's his fault. If he were still here there's no way I'd have done this. But he's not, and I did.

Here's the beginning. Not so bad .... at first. And then, I tried really, really hard to not cry. I didn't, but I had to do a lot of Lamaze breathing to get through it. And squeeze all of the blood out of Daughter #1's hand.



This is the finished product. It's Jim's signature (too cool how they can replicate that) on top of a heart. Underneath the heart is the verse from our wedding, Song of Songs 8:7. It's written on the right side of my blog ---------->.



This is Daughter #2 getting hers done. I didn't get a very good picture, but it says "Wherever they'll grow" with a picture of a forget-me-not. For those of you who were at Jim's memorial, it's what she talked about (she wanted to be like her dad -- she hopes that when she's gone it may be said of her that she plucked out thistles and planted flowers wherever they would grow).



And here's Daughter #3. She decided to break hers up and put one on each wrist. On one she has the Hebrew letters spelling Yaweh. On the other is a verse that has meant a lot to her since December: 1 Corinthians 15:19.





So there you have it --- the path to insanity caught on film. But we like them. They mean a lot to us, more than I've even written here. It's like still having Jim as a part of me, literally.

Oh, and my mom got one, too! See ...... we're all crazy!! She got a daisy on her shoulder. It's cute. Three generations of tattooed women.
I wonder what's next?!

Dancing

My awesome mother in law is now dancing with the awesome son she raised. Heaven is just a bit brighter tonight.