T.A.N.W.*......

...... because there just aren't.  All I have is tears.  But it's beautiful, and since my mom told me that I should watch it (thanks SO much, Mom ..... I said, dripping with teary sarcasm) ...... then I thought I'd share it.
And I'm sorry.
But it is beautiful.

I only wish it had happened that way for us.
Truly.



I hope, that in spite of this video, you have a Happy Saturday/Sunday, Peeps.
And hug your loved ones close tonight/today.
Really, really close.
And breathe a pray of thank you.

:)


*There Are No Words
(does anyone still not know that?!)
:)

I Was Having a Perfectly Good Day ....

.... until I wasn't.

I went to work today, came home to have lunch and spend some time with Son #1 before he headed back to school, went back to work and just got home.

It was a good day .... until about 1/2 way through the drive home.

Suddenly I had a flashback. I was back in the ER with Jim, watching them run around as fast as they could, to stick him with needles, to try to get a blood pressure, giving him a very quick MRI and then telling me I'd better call my family. All within 10 minutes. I was watching myself trying to comprehend that this was not just a case of acid reflux and that he wasn't going home. In fact, he was going downtown on a helicopter and in all likelihood I'd never see him alive again. It was too difficult to understand .... I didn't know what to do .... it all happened so fast.

All in less than 10 minutes.

(As an aside, God granted us 7 more hours with him, thankfully.)

I was having a good day.

And now .... I am not.

I've been having so many good days that it's been a tiny bit scary. I didn't see the flashback coming ..... you never do. I wonder if this is what it's like for soldiers who've been to war? One minute you're happy as a clam, driving your car, looking forward to heading home to see your sons and then WHAM!! You're standing back in time, in a horrible, horrible place. And you can't leave it. You just have to get through it.

And so I write.

And cry.

And write some more.

I want this damn pain to go away. I want my heart to stop hurting from missing him every moment of every day.

I want ..... too much.

I want .... what I can never have.

So I write.

And I scream on the inside, "Damn it, God!!!!! Why did You allow THIS to happen to US? Why HIM? Why not ME?!"

And all I hear is the deafening roar of ..... silence.

Feelings

   Jim with Daughter #2 and Son #2, Rome, Christmas 2005.

     The title of this post has nothing to do with the song, which I hate, except for the fact that it totally reminds me of Carol Burnett, as Eunice, in a "Family" sketch on her CBS show (man, those were the days .... CBS on Saturday night --- The Bob Newhart Show ("Hi Bob!"), The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and the Carol Burnett Show).... when Eunice went on "The Gong Show" and sang "Feelings" ---- the only time I liked that song.

But I digress .... 

     Tonight I had my first training session to be a Stephen Minister at our church.  I totally lack the energy to describe what that is at the moment so if you don't know, please feel free to google it.

      Anyway, we talked about feelings tonight and how important it is to validate them, in ourselves and in others, and to let them out.

Which made me think and really realize something about myself ...... I absolutely hate to talk about my feelings.  I mean .... really.  This may come as a surprise to those readers who don't really know me, since I seem to have no problem at all vomiting up my feelings here.  It's very easy for me to write about them here.  But I cannot do it easily face-to-face with anyone.  

I will usually turn the subject 180 degrees when someone asks me what I feel about something, how how I'm feeling or some equally emotionally-loaded question.

     I wonder why that is?

I think that sometimes it's a self-preservation move.  I mean, if I have to give one more second of thought to what's really going on in my life, I might just go over the edge.  So I'd much rather change the topic and be distracted.

     Here's a perfect example:

Back in November '01 (a year I always considered to be particularly "sucky" until I experienced the end of '07) Jim had a gun accident and lost an eye.  He was in the hospital for a few horrible days and I stayed with him the entire time .... I would not leave his room.  We were in Oklahoma at the time (it was Thanksgiving) and I had many, many phone calls.  Our pastor was out on the middle of nowhere, camping with his son for a few days,  so he could not be contacted until a day or so after the accident.  As soon as he found out he called me.  It was around 10:30 at night and the phone woke me up.  He, of course, sounded horrible since he had just found out and was upset and concerned about Jim and about me.  He asked me how I was doing and I said something like, "I'm OK.  So ..... how was your camping trip?"  I kid you not.

I think he was a little stunned and then let me know that he didn't want to talk about that, but about Jim ..... and me.   

I, of course, did not.  I wanted to talk about something completely different.

     I've always hated those "therapy" questions .... you know, like "So how did that make you feel?" or "So what you're saying is .....".   

Jim and I went to several marriage seminars or classes through our churches over the years.  He always found great humor in saying, "So how does that make you feel?" or mirroring back something I just said.  A lot of humor.

I'm not saying those questions don't work or that mirroring doesn't work .... it just doesn't work for me.   I immediately pull back and inward.

Still wondering why that is?

My mother reads this blog so I evidently can't blame it on anything in my childhood (although I'm sure she scarred and wounded me at least once!).

My dad reads it, too, so I can't list anything on that end, either.

Dang .... so much for blog therapy.

A penny for your thoughts.

UPDATE ON "FEELINGS"

This is what I get when I bring this crap up ---

it's 1 a.m. and I cannot sleep.  I was almost asleep and then, BAM!!!  my gut was hit by something really hard and I couldn't stop crying.  And missing him.  

Some moments I just think, "What the hell?  This life has made me way too tired."

Way.  I'd give anything to have him back.  Any-thing.

Sigh.

A nickel for your thoughts now.

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.

Then .....

And now .....


She's now in Boston -- I just got off of the phone.
This was a difficult day. I think that's putting it mildly.
I did well on the way to the airport (note: she just noticed last night that it was the "far away" airport!). So I did well for a long drive. She did well, too.
Then I went in with her to help her check in her two 50 pound bags and help her get to security with her 150 lb carry on. No kidding, I know that smaller bag weighed a lot more than either of the two huge ones. I'm sure her back and arms will be aching from that!
Anyway, I did very well ---- right up to the point when we had to say good-bye at security. When I had to let her go. To really let her go. Not like back at the first of college, or like Rome, but to know that this is probably it .... the last time she'll be leaving "home".
And I needed Jim.
I cried all of the way home. Another day to say, "This sucks". Totally and 100%. I hate it and I hate being here and doing all of these "events" alone. Not totally alone ..... after all, Daughter #2 and Son #1 were with me today, but ....... you know....... or do you? No, most of you don't. And I'm glad that you don't.
The ride home was very, very quiet.


Here are the afore-mentioned children:


Here is the girl teddy bear that Daughter #2 made (another great job, if I do say so myself):


And here's the pathetic little patient with the huge blue cast, which she hates:


I'm packed and ready to go. I guess. I feel like I'm just racing from one thing to another lately. With a very cruddy, torn up house that will look just the same when I get back. I am less than thrilled with that. Way less. But there ya go.

One very positive thing happened today. God spoke to me.
Tonight we went out with friends for dinner. I noticed a woman sitting at a table nearby and I suddenly recognized her from the grief group. The younger woman who's husband died the month after Jim.
I decided to go up and introduce myself -- we'd never met. I've only been to the group twice.
I've been thinking a lot lately about all of the other younger women in our area who have lost their husbands in the last few years --- there are several. I want to get these women together for support. I don't know any of them, but I'd like to meet them. I think I need that kind of group, rather than the other.
So it was like God put her right in front of me. I did go over and talk to her. And she took my breath away. I asked her how her husband had died. It was the same thing that killed Jim. Exactly. And it happened so soon afterwards. I had "heard" of her. News gets around in our small community. I knew that there was a woman out there who this had happened to, I just didn't know who it was. Until tonight. When she told me all I could say was, "It's you." Kind of a stupid thing to say, but I couldn't believe it. And then I told her why I said that--- and took her breath away.
I pulled my chair over and we talked. For quite a while. And hurt for each other.
She also knew about me and knew about my blog, but didn't know who I was. And she also wants support with women "our age".
So I hope that I've made a new friend and that we can help each other. And other women. Because she, and they, know how terribly much this sucks.

Sigh

This is from 1998 -- Paris. Jim is the one with the cute legs.

I'm back from the beach. Wish I could say I feel better but at least it was relaxing, beautiful (for Galveston) and the weather was wonderful (as was the company). I would have loved to stay there for another month or five.
I received a note last week from a colleague of Jim's and I really, really appreciated it. Thank you BF and best wishes to you and your wife on Baby #3. That note meant a lot to me. It's nice to know that even though life moves on, Jim is still thought of by others .... and missed by more than just me and the kids.
I went back to the grief support group tonight. I really don't know what makes me get in that car and drive to that meeting, because I don't really want to go. I ask myself the entire drive, "Why am I doing this? I don't want to sit in that room." But some other part of me that seems to be in control keeps driving and gets me out of the car, in spite of the deep sigh that the rest of me gives.
Anyway, it was OK. Not great, not horrible -- it just was. And it was sad. But then, most everything is at the moment.

That ice floe is looking better and better every day.

Not much left

The girls and I got home today. I am ....... I really don't know what I am. One moment I seem in control and the next moment I can't control anything, especially my tears. I thought I did pretty well this week. I spent time with my mother in law, I listened to her; I told her how much I loved her and what a great mom and grandmother she'd been. I told her that Jim was waiting for her and it was OK that she was ready to go. She told me how proud she was of our children and how much she loved us. She was so glad that I came to see her to say good bye. I held her hand as she breathed her last breath. And then I felt numb. Again. And we went home and I picked out a dress for her to wear and got the rest of her clothes together for the guys to take to the funeral home. We went grocery shopping and cleaned up a bit. We went to the florist and picked out flowers for the coffin and I picked out flowers from my children.
And then it was time to go. And I had a melt down. I felt, and still feel, so much guilt for leaving. Not from anyone but me. I felt like I should be there with the rest of the family and go through this with them. But I also felt guilty for wanting to stay and thus missing out on Son #1's prom. He's already had the most sucky senior year possible. I haven't been there for him as much as I should have. So I came home.
I want to run away. I want to go somewhere where there are no progress reports, no bills, no teacher calls, no orthodontic
appointments, no people disappointed with me (in my mind) or where there are no people sad for me. I want to just go and sit on a beach and read and have no clock. I want to go somewhere where I have no mixed feelings about things like working, or participating in things or making appointments.
I couldn't even go to the awards ceremony the Houston CPA association was having tonight. They were giving an award to Jim. So the oldest 4 went without me. And I feel guilty for that. I feel that the last bit of strength has been sapped out of my body and mind.
Thank you K, for bringing food over for Daughter #1. Thank you A, for bringing the boys and me dinner tonight and sitting with me. Thank you both for thinking of that. I feel like I'm back to January and I can't function again. I don't really even want to function.
And I'm sorry for this morbid and depressing post. I wish that I could fake happiness and humor and make everyone laugh. But the writing is beyond my control. It just comes. And it seems that I have to let it out or explode. Or die.
If only it were that easy.

Here I am again.....

....sitting in a hospital, waiting to say good bye to someone I love.  Only this time I know that's what I'm doing.  No surprises, no shock --  no lies about 90%.  Not this time.  So why am I crying so hard?  Because it's her & not me? Yes, that's certainly part of it.  And for all of my family. We'd like the pain to stop.  Now.  So we wait.  She was able to finally speak to us today -- and she did-- a lot.  She told each of us how much she loved us , appreciated us and was proud of each of us.  One on one.  I made her promise to hug Jim very, very hard for me and to tell him I love him-- so very much.  She promised  to do that.  Then I told her the last thing I told Jim:   "I love you and I'll see you soon."                                         
This time I really know what I'm saying.

Events

     This is Jim with Son #2.  He was around 5 months old --- 1992.  They both look like babies!

     Well, one heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching event down this month.  Four to go.

These are wonderfully awesome events.  Or they should be.  They would've been -- with Jim.  Now they're days on a calendar that I need to prepare myself for.  I need to be happy and excited and look forward to them.  Well, to all of them except the last one.  

     Last night was the "Sr. Spotlight" at our church.  This is the event where we focus on our graduating seniors, show pictures of them growing up, honor the hard work they've done and bless them in prayer for the future they'll move into.  And actually, I did pretty well (thank you, Xanax), until the prayer.  Everyone who feels a connection to the graduating senior comes up (while he/she kneels) and places a hand on him or on another person, so that everyone is connected at that moment.  It's very special.  And we pray.  I cried a bit but really, did surprisingly well.  My over-riding thought was not to embarrass Son #1 (yes, I know -- not my usual goal).

     The next event is Daughter #2 & #3's 21st birthday.  Big day.  And they'll be here so it will be fun.  And I'll get to watch them drink one and a half margaritas before they pass out, so that will be fun ( I'll take pictures).  And wish that Jim were by my side.

     Then comes Son #1's 18th birthday.  Another big day.  He's legal -- yay!  I'm not sure what we're doing yet ---- he's a little more low-key than some of the others.  I'll be wishing that Jim was by my side.

     The 3rd event is probably the biggest...... Son #1's graduation.  Family will be here.  I'll be wearing a black robe, taking Jim's spot on the platform and handing Son #1 (and other kids I know) his diploma.  And wishing that I were sitting in the audience watching Jim do this.  And trying very, very desperately, not to humiliate Son #1 by blubbering all over the place.

     The last event, which is not the last chronologically, but the worst in my mind, is our 25th anniversary.  The one we didn't make.  I haven't decided what I'm going to do that day.  The best sounding option to me is to just stay in bed.  And never wake up.

     All of these events take place at the end of May, within days of each other.  The birthdays are 3 days apart, the anniversary is the day after Son #1's birthday and then graduation is 3 days later.

What a week.

     See why I'm feeling the need for support and comments?  I need to make it through May.  

And I'd like to do more than just "make it through"...... for my children.  I'd like to enjoy May.

Miracles do happen ...... right?

A flicker

I laughed yesterday for a bit. It felt good. The girls and I were watching the "Sexiest Mens Legs Contest" at the pool.
Today, for the first time, I was able to open a Bible and read. Then I was able to journal -- a real entry for the first time. I don't count the entry I made two days ago which was really just a "What the hell were You thinking?" tirade in huge letters.
And though this goes off into a totally different religious sphere, I felt like Jim was channeling through me today. I started a list of things I need to do when I get home. For those of you who really know him (can't force myself to use the past tense), this is classic.
So, a bit of light at the end of a very, very long tunnel. However, I don't trust that the light will remain. Yet.
The kids and I went to Jamaica today and never had a close encounter with death. Well, unless you count Sons #2 & #3 and Daughter #3 going down a 100 foot slide into the ocean. And Daughter #3 continually getting hit on by men (not boys!).
Tomorrow we go to the Caymans.
Jo, I'm not sure what to do about the flowers --- if the box is refrigerated do you think they'll keep? Whatever you think is best. Thanks.
W.H. -- too weird. Thanks.
I guess that's it for today. I'm exhausted and dinner is still 3 hours away. I expect to feel exhausted for quite a while. I hate that.
I still feel as though I'm living someone else's life. But the hope that I'll wake up from this is slowly fading.
Keep commenting, texting and praying. I don't know what I'd do without all of you.