However, curious as to whether this is the right forum or not. Should I transfer to a journal? Does this have any merit for anyone else? My hope by using the blog forum was that by sharing my feelings and being honest about it that it might strike someone else and have them realize that they're not alone and not crazy. Honestly it's also about awareness. Of course for me, I suppose, and those I love, but for anyone and everyone who takes the time to read it. It's hard to know what to say, how to act, how to understand when you encounter someone who has gone through anything similar to me. I wouldn't know if it hadn't happened to me. Is this a good thing? Should I continue via blog?
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Notes on Grief 102 - Post Script
I'm curious - I write what I feel and how I think. I write because it helps.
Friday, February 26, 2016
The Circle of Life
We will be celebrating my grandson's birthday this weekend, Adam's son, Camden. It is his fifth birthday party. His fourth birthday was just 11 days after his daddy died, 5 days after he was buried. It happened, and there was a party and gifts, but it felt as if everyone was just going through the motions. It was though each of us had been wrapped in quilt batting - the really good kind - that softens everything - as numbness and grief goes.
One of my closest friends asked after my weekend plans and I shared them. And as with so much these days, I shared that it will be bittersweet. For me, one of the times I miss my son the most is when I am in his home and he is absent. I think that makes a lot of sense, since he no longer lived with me, nor had he for quite a while. It is in HIS home, in the midst of the beautiful family he and his wife created that I still expect to see him round a corner or come up the steps from the basement and give me grief. (It was one of the things he delighted in!) And I would delightedly respond. It was always worse when he and my husband were together. They were almost like a Vaudeville comedy tag team and I didn't stand a chance. But in their raucous laughter, and endless teasing and taunts, were eyes twinkling with joy and love. They loved being together and they both loved giving me the devil. Devil dogs they both were and wore the title with great pride.
But the real reason I find this upcoming visit to be bittersweet is due to his little boy - his mini-me. Adam loved his little girls fiercely, from beginning to end, and now from afar. I think though, when Cam came along, he was looking for a partner in crime, an ally in a house where he was outnumbered and pinkified. Oh, and bond they did, due to the fact that soon after Cam man was born, Adam was medically retired, and they were together almost 24/7. Each child has borne the loss of their daddy in a heartbreaking way, unique to them. Cam has offered many insights and questions beyond his years, revealing a little old soul who has way more going on in that little head than any child should have to wonder about. He has been angry about his daddy's death. He has been blunt. He has wanted everyone to just quit being sad and go to heaven to be with Dad. He wants to protect his Mama and sisters, but wishes he had his partner in crime back to help.
What hurts me particularly about Camden, is that in all likelihood, he won't remember his Daddy at all, as he was so young when he died. That absolutely breaks what is left in my heart to break. He may feel as if he remembers as there will always be stories and pictures and some of Daddy's possessions to hold onto. But Cam deserved so much more. His Daddy adored all three of them, but he was sharing things with his little boy that he had to often learn the hard way; a lot of "guy" things that girls aren't always interested in. And he was making sure that his children were going to be prepared for life. He wanted what every parent wants - to raise his children to be well loved, well behaved, well educated, well spoken, well spoken of and well equipped for the world. He taught Cam how to clear the house to make sure there were no monsters with Nerf guns, so that he could feel safe when he went to bed. He taught him about tractors and trains and fishing and Legos, pulling from the archives of his childhood and what he had loved most. He was teaching him history, and spirituality and kindness for your neighbors. Don't worry - I'm not glorifying him - he also was giving him an example of how to dip and spit and occasionally utter a bad word under your breath......or maybe have it burst out in a moment of anger or frustration. But he was teaching him and Cam was a sponge.
I have some gifts that I think Camden will enjoy, among many others that he'll receive tomorrow. Sadly, none of us can give him what his heart yearns for. One day I hope that Cam has a new daddy to look out for him, to teach him and to love him. That entire family deserves healing and moving forward, if and when it is to be. But in the meantime, tomorrow in the midst of tissue paper, cake and ice cream and all of his family and friends, when Cam blows out his candles I will make a wish too. I will wish that each one of us can remember how wonderful it was when Adam was with us. And more than that, I hope that we can do it with a smile, knowing he would want his little boy's birthday to be perfect. And I hope we all can learn how to take him along in our hearts and keep him alive in our memories while moving forward. We'll all find our balance with this, all in our own time and supporting each other. That the future will lose the "bitter" and become more "sweet" as we reconcile what we never wanted with what God had planned in our lives. We can do it. I can do it. For Jessica, Addison and Mackenzie. For Adam and tomorrow especially for Camden. Cam, may the rest of your years be filled with all that your Daddy desired for you and more. May you always feel the love of everyone around you. May you never doubt the love and pride your Daddy had in you. Happy Birthday Sweet Boy. Now let's make a wish.
One of my closest friends asked after my weekend plans and I shared them. And as with so much these days, I shared that it will be bittersweet. For me, one of the times I miss my son the most is when I am in his home and he is absent. I think that makes a lot of sense, since he no longer lived with me, nor had he for quite a while. It is in HIS home, in the midst of the beautiful family he and his wife created that I still expect to see him round a corner or come up the steps from the basement and give me grief. (It was one of the things he delighted in!) And I would delightedly respond. It was always worse when he and my husband were together. They were almost like a Vaudeville comedy tag team and I didn't stand a chance. But in their raucous laughter, and endless teasing and taunts, were eyes twinkling with joy and love. They loved being together and they both loved giving me the devil. Devil dogs they both were and wore the title with great pride.
But the real reason I find this upcoming visit to be bittersweet is due to his little boy - his mini-me. Adam loved his little girls fiercely, from beginning to end, and now from afar. I think though, when Cam came along, he was looking for a partner in crime, an ally in a house where he was outnumbered and pinkified. Oh, and bond they did, due to the fact that soon after Cam man was born, Adam was medically retired, and they were together almost 24/7. Each child has borne the loss of their daddy in a heartbreaking way, unique to them. Cam has offered many insights and questions beyond his years, revealing a little old soul who has way more going on in that little head than any child should have to wonder about. He has been angry about his daddy's death. He has been blunt. He has wanted everyone to just quit being sad and go to heaven to be with Dad. He wants to protect his Mama and sisters, but wishes he had his partner in crime back to help.
What hurts me particularly about Camden, is that in all likelihood, he won't remember his Daddy at all, as he was so young when he died. That absolutely breaks what is left in my heart to break. He may feel as if he remembers as there will always be stories and pictures and some of Daddy's possessions to hold onto. But Cam deserved so much more. His Daddy adored all three of them, but he was sharing things with his little boy that he had to often learn the hard way; a lot of "guy" things that girls aren't always interested in. And he was making sure that his children were going to be prepared for life. He wanted what every parent wants - to raise his children to be well loved, well behaved, well educated, well spoken, well spoken of and well equipped for the world. He taught Cam how to clear the house to make sure there were no monsters with Nerf guns, so that he could feel safe when he went to bed. He taught him about tractors and trains and fishing and Legos, pulling from the archives of his childhood and what he had loved most. He was teaching him history, and spirituality and kindness for your neighbors. Don't worry - I'm not glorifying him - he also was giving him an example of how to dip and spit and occasionally utter a bad word under your breath......or maybe have it burst out in a moment of anger or frustration. But he was teaching him and Cam was a sponge.
I have some gifts that I think Camden will enjoy, among many others that he'll receive tomorrow. Sadly, none of us can give him what his heart yearns for. One day I hope that Cam has a new daddy to look out for him, to teach him and to love him. That entire family deserves healing and moving forward, if and when it is to be. But in the meantime, tomorrow in the midst of tissue paper, cake and ice cream and all of his family and friends, when Cam blows out his candles I will make a wish too. I will wish that each one of us can remember how wonderful it was when Adam was with us. And more than that, I hope that we can do it with a smile, knowing he would want his little boy's birthday to be perfect. And I hope we all can learn how to take him along in our hearts and keep him alive in our memories while moving forward. We'll all find our balance with this, all in our own time and supporting each other. That the future will lose the "bitter" and become more "sweet" as we reconcile what we never wanted with what God had planned in our lives. We can do it. I can do it. For Jessica, Addison and Mackenzie. For Adam and tomorrow especially for Camden. Cam, may the rest of your years be filled with all that your Daddy desired for you and more. May you always feel the love of everyone around you. May you never doubt the love and pride your Daddy had in you. Happy Birthday Sweet Boy. Now let's make a wish.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Notes on Grief 101
Like a teacup with a broken handle, when filled with
steaming brew becomes too hot to hold onto, so goes the pain of trying to hold
on.
A broom without a handle makes the chore so much more
difficult, as you bend to try to clear things up you feel as if you may break
in half, trying to fix what can’t be mended.
A shattered windowpane distorts the beauty that is right
outside your door, and allows the cold to seep in and chill you to the bone. That’s how cold it is to sleep alone and to
no longer be gathered tightly in a bear hug.
The beauty of a love song no longer soothes but brings tears
to your eyes as readily as an acute toothache.
A sparkling bathroom that only dulls with dust is so much
harder to clean than the one with toothpaste drips and shaving crumbs.
Phones in the hotel room mock you as you realize you’ve
arrived, but have no one to call to reassure.
There has been no surfing in such a while, as the remote
remains always just where I left it.
Kitchens outfitted with everything to prepare lovely meals
mock me and the dining table is far too big for dinner for one. The refrigerator stores takeout containers
and wine; a reversion to college days, but when just making it through the day
is your biggest test, how do you cram for that?
Freedom to go and do as you choose, whenever you choose is
as confining as hearing a jail cell door slam shut.
Late night text conversations to share stories of grandchildren, VA visits, life realizations and solving the world's problems, always ending with "Sweet dreams. I love you" never happen on my smart phone any more. Between that and no more snoring next to me the darkness is so much quieter.
Car trips require so much more planning to fill the
silence. Siri doesn’t tell me stories
about working on the department or Viet Nam or what called you to convert to
Catholicism. No audio book compares with
the dynamics of your voice as you storied your way from here to there, nor do
they reach out to grab your hand for the funny parts.
“Just you this evening?” after you have garnered enough
courage to dine out alone makes one want to upend the table after saying “Sure,
my invisible friend is running just a few minutes late! Does it look like I have anyone with me?”
Friends blooming in places you never expected, alongside
your family and lifelong pals, (the hardy varieties, don’t you know), are the
most beautiful sight in your world. They
bring fresh air with them and are reminders that life is good and beautiful. I know they line the path I need to follow.
Hope, instilled by my parents, through their choices for me,
their example for me, their love for me sustains me.
Courage that I witnessed in both my husband and son taught
lessons that I would be foolhardy to dismiss.
To everything there is a season, an undying faith in a God
who is good, with the wisdom far beyond my comprehension, has a plan that all
makes sense. Therefore I will trust. That trust, if practiced, will eventually
come without complaints and whining and self-pity. Of that I am sure.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Clarification
I don't know if a blog is the appropriate place for an apology or not, but it seems that my anger this morning may have been misinterpreted as direct. Please let me be clear - it is not. For one thing, I know that everything anyone offers me is offered with the very best of intentions. I have received more support than anyone has a right to. I tried to be clear in that I am not angry at anyone. There was an instance early this morning with something really crazy and all the anger I've been keeping at bay just spilled over.
If you're a woman, have you ever had a moment with PMS when you knew you were behaving as a total witch, but were powerless to contain it? Even in the moment of being so witchy you regret it but continue because it feels as if you may just explode if you don't.
My anger this morning was like that. I know it's over the top, especially for me. But it's the first time I've allowed myself to be angry. It was exhausting but I feel better for purging it. And that was the exact point of putting it on paper.
A reminder to me that people read this and could be offended, and a reminder to others that I would never, ever intentionally hurt those that are reading this blog. It's the people who don't read it that I have issue with. So, please, please, know how much I treasure my family and friends. It's you who have carried me and continue to.
So I come to those who take the time, who have the interest, who have loved me and cared for me asking for indulgence for a moment of angry release. Know, as many arguments begin, it was over someone and something that doesn't really matter and it's over. Up in the air as my dear David would say. I truly hope you understand and forgive me.
I close this with sincere thanks, and true appreciation for the wonderful people in my life. God bless you.
If you're a woman, have you ever had a moment with PMS when you knew you were behaving as a total witch, but were powerless to contain it? Even in the moment of being so witchy you regret it but continue because it feels as if you may just explode if you don't.
My anger this morning was like that. I know it's over the top, especially for me. But it's the first time I've allowed myself to be angry. It was exhausting but I feel better for purging it. And that was the exact point of putting it on paper.
A reminder to me that people read this and could be offended, and a reminder to others that I would never, ever intentionally hurt those that are reading this blog. It's the people who don't read it that I have issue with. So, please, please, know how much I treasure my family and friends. It's you who have carried me and continue to.
So I come to those who take the time, who have the interest, who have loved me and cared for me asking for indulgence for a moment of angry release. Know, as many arguments begin, it was over someone and something that doesn't really matter and it's over. Up in the air as my dear David would say. I truly hope you understand and forgive me.
I close this with sincere thanks, and true appreciation for the wonderful people in my life. God bless you.
The Second Year is the Worst
I've been told that over and over and am discovering it to be very true. Shock has worn away and life hits you square in the face - or what's left of your life.
I try very hard to not go to this place, but as a result of a very difficult weekend, some observations and thoughts have stuck with me and in order for me to go forward in a positive fashion, it's time to purge. Please don't any one person take offense to any of this. For me, there have been some extreme circumstances and it is certainly not directed at any one person. There have been enough little oddities from a lot of people for me to draw from. And this writing is only about my getting it out of my head so I can move on in peace and harmony. (This is where I assume a yoga pose and have some chakra alignment).
Based on just experiencing two of the hardest weekends of my life in the past year, I've learned some things. One is that I manage far better when I am with people than when I am alone. I have an "accountable" type personality and I can do things for others that I have a harder time doing for myself alone. I've been told I need to work on that and I probably do, however, it is who I am, and I have learned ways to "trick" myself that also benefits others, so I kind of like the way I manage it. I also believe that the wonderful insulation of numbness is wearing off and there are sharp corners and a lot of raw edges to grief and facing a new reality. Therefore, comes the anger stage. I have always been fortunate that my anger had a very clear target, and it still does. However, I find that I am losing patience with people and their sensitivities, or lack of.
Based on the on-line forums I belong to for those who have lost children, by far, the greater percentage want their children to be remembered. They love to talk about them daily. It means more than bringing a covered dish for dinner (although those are good too), to have someone acknowledge your loss, your pain, your reality. I have accumulated many, many books on grief in the past year - some I have read and some not yet. There are recommended things to say and definitely those things NOT to say. If I were to write my own guidelines, it would go something like this:
I try very hard to not go to this place, but as a result of a very difficult weekend, some observations and thoughts have stuck with me and in order for me to go forward in a positive fashion, it's time to purge. Please don't any one person take offense to any of this. For me, there have been some extreme circumstances and it is certainly not directed at any one person. There have been enough little oddities from a lot of people for me to draw from. And this writing is only about my getting it out of my head so I can move on in peace and harmony. (This is where I assume a yoga pose and have some chakra alignment).
Based on just experiencing two of the hardest weekends of my life in the past year, I've learned some things. One is that I manage far better when I am with people than when I am alone. I have an "accountable" type personality and I can do things for others that I have a harder time doing for myself alone. I've been told I need to work on that and I probably do, however, it is who I am, and I have learned ways to "trick" myself that also benefits others, so I kind of like the way I manage it. I also believe that the wonderful insulation of numbness is wearing off and there are sharp corners and a lot of raw edges to grief and facing a new reality. Therefore, comes the anger stage. I have always been fortunate that my anger had a very clear target, and it still does. However, I find that I am losing patience with people and their sensitivities, or lack of.
Based on the on-line forums I belong to for those who have lost children, by far, the greater percentage want their children to be remembered. They love to talk about them daily. It means more than bringing a covered dish for dinner (although those are good too), to have someone acknowledge your loss, your pain, your reality. I have accumulated many, many books on grief in the past year - some I have read and some not yet. There are recommended things to say and definitely those things NOT to say. If I were to write my own guidelines, it would go something like this:
- Don't ignore the fact that within three months I lost two of the people in my life I love the most. I'm working hard to be normal for everyone who needs me to be, but the fact is that I am anything BUT normal. I am approachable and it's worse when you treat me as if nothing ever happened. Ask me how I am. Most likely I'll say fine. Occasionally I may just say it's been rough lately. But I will SO appreciate that you acknowledge that life isn't close to what I've known it to be right now. Even though it's been a year, it is getting harder rather than easier.
- Don't encourage me with all the practical things that every one of those books have to say. I've read them and I know I should meditate, exercise, eat well, go to therapy, go to church, move forward, weave daisies and work towards world peace. I'm doing the best I can and I will get there. Please don't insult me with advice. I don't want or need advice. I have a fabulous grief counselor for that. All I need is just quiet support.
- What you CAN do is just send a text saying I'm thinking of you. Invite me to go have breakfast, lunch or dinner. Send me a message when you have come across something that you got from Adam, or reminded you of him. Someone did that last night - sent me a screen shot of what he wrote in their yearbook in middle school. That told me two things - she cared about me and she was remembering Adam with joy. Fabulous gift, cost nothing.
- Remember the others who are grieving. Especially some of the ones who aren't front and center, but loved him just as much, like a sibling or an aunt or uncle.
- Do something positive for veterans and let me know. Have a mass said for Adam and Dave. Or just let me know you are praying. With your support and God in my life, I can get through this.
Social media is a blessing and a curse during times like this. I will have to say it's far more a blessing to me, but there is also always the other side of the coin, where people who have been very close to you never acknowledge anything on Facebook. Just a simple "like" would be nice. Their absence in some of this is glaring and makes you wonder.
Having spouted all this, I understand everyone is not as sensitive as I am. I recognize that never having been in my shoes, most people are unsure of what is a good or right thing to do. Some don't have the benefit of an upbringing that gives them the confidence to step up or say anything. Some don't care.
I know I sound very angry. (It's in the book, so I suppose I'm entitled to it.) I don't want to be angry. I don't even want this to be all about me. What I feel that I need to get across to anyone interested, is that all you have to do for someone in my shoes is to try to imagine what it would feel like for you. Then respond in a way that would be comforting to you. Not just for me but for anyone grieving.
I probably should stop here, at least for today. I've probably been too open and too frank, but those that truly love me will understand. Those that don't, well, they just don't. I realize that in this blog many of you are the ones that I couldn't manage without and who have gone above and beyond. Just know I know who you are and love you for it. I know it sounds like a pity party and I wanted to invite a few people along. I should have done it on a weekend though instead of a Tuesday morning so I could have a glass of wine (whine) with it.
I think the word that best sums it up is gentle. And that works for any situation in life. Let's be gentle with one another. Let's try to have eyes that see, not just what is right in front of us, but what is in another's eyes. I will be working on all of this for Lent. I've never been able to stay angry long, so let's pray that applies here as well. And know that I'm not angry at anyone or anything. I'm just flat angry. I don't like it and don't want it, but it's here, just like an ice storm comes. Help me not foster the icicles forming in my heart. I need your warmth right now. And when I thaw, I will do the same for you. I promise.
"There are places I remember
all my life, though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better.
And some have gone, and some remain.
All these places have their moments
with lovers and friends I still can't recall.
Some are dead and some are living.
In my life I love them all."
Lennon-McCartney
Thursday, February 11, 2016
“Where words leave off, music begins.” ― Heinrich Heine
For me, truer words may never have been spoken. I can't remember a time that music was not in my life in one way or another. My father was a music teacher/band director, as was my Uncle Dick, their father; Uncle Bob was a professional musician. My dad and Uncle Dick used to play in a dance band on the weekends and Dad played in a German Eureka Band in the park on Friday evenings. (How much fun was that - running around the park, playing on the swings and hearing the car horns honk as applause when a song was over!) My great aunts played the piano, and had sung on the radio. Therefore lots of my parents' friends were musicians as well. I can remember gatherings at our home from time to time with people and having reel to reel tapes going of past performances, talk of music, watching football games for the halftime shows, going to musicals and the symphony. There were many times the stereo was on when the TV was not. I knew the soundtracks to movies I had never seen - Flower Drum Song, Camelot, South Pacific, and I remember clearly listening to Peter and the Wolf with my Dad narrating the story to the music.
Music began for me then, in our home as a child, and continued through piano lessons, clarinet lessons, band, marching band, band camp, baritone sax in jazz band, band at Culver Military Academy, choir, and the Marian College Drum & Bugle Corps. A firm foundation had been laid and I had no idea yet how precious that would be for me.
Who doesn't occasionally hear an old song that immediately and magically transports you back to a time or place - sometimes wonderful, sometimes not so much. Some songs make me think of certain people, some make me think of specific events, some are just so tender that they touch me emotionally. I have lived through vinyl, 8 track, cassettes, CDs and now digital music. I have some of it all. It's as hard for me to part with a favorite track as it is a favorite book. (We'll talk about my hoarding tendencies another time!)
My point is that I grew up with music, relate to music, delight in it, drown in it, desire it. Over these past few years, that particular gift imparted by my father has proven more precious than ever. When you find yourself so very often alone and are also so very unaccustomed to solitude, music can help fill the void. My dear husband, also said that after he was gone, I should listen to lyrics, because he would be there in those lyrics for me. How comforting to hear a love song and imagine that I can see and hear him behind the words.
Favorite genres? I don't know that there are any. I'm trying to stay current in what happens in music and am finding great pleasure in Maddie and Tae, Adele, Jason Mrasz, Coldplay, to name a few. I love what are now the "oldies" that I grew up listening to, as well as music especially from the 40's. It was SO romantic. I love country, gospel, classical, John Philip Sousa, R&B, jazz, probably everything but rap, metal and hip hop.
I chose "My Life is in Your Hands" by Kathy Troccoli to be my Lent song. This morning listening to Firefall and "Just Remember I Love You", it could have been Dave singing, or it could be a message from God. Diamond Rio's "One More Day" always makes me think of Adam. Van Halen's "Jump" takes me back to little boys who loved to be silly and jump their way through that song when it came on. John Fogerty's "Put Me In Coach" covers Chad's high school years. "Unanswered Prayers" could be my theme song.
I suppose I have moved past liking just what melody appeals to me, and have become more of a lyrical fan. And since lyrics to a song are much like a Sunday sermon, where everyone wonders how the priest knew that was just what they needed to hear, I can relate to almost everything, especially with more life experience likely behind me than ahead of me.
At night when I can't sleep, which is often, I have taken to listening to Christian music, and have found that it backfired a bit, as I am anxious to hear what the next song will be, so I'm not falling asleep as I'd like. I guess I'll need to try some ambient sounds. From Disney to Andrea Boccelli, Creedence Clearwater to Glenn Miller, music speaks to me and my soul yearns for it. I think it helps me through this journey, particularly now. It provides a focus, pulls me out of the fog, puts a smile on my face or a tear in my eye. Sometimes I sing loudly and dance, and other times I am as still as can be absorbing it all. But it helps me to navigate my emotions. I never want the music to die. My all time favorite has always been and always will be "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". I began to love it just because I loved the Wizard of Oz. It has been covered by the best of the best and it always calms me. I now love it just for the lyrics - so simple, so true. A close second is Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World". Number three probably has to be "Just the Way You Look Tonight". But that has a memory that connects me to my Dad. I could go on and on and I'd have a hard time naming all the songs that I connect to, but what I will say is that music has become an extension of my soul.
Maybe the quote above hits home for me because my Dad was a man of few words. When he spoke, it was well worth it to listen. But I would say that knowing him as I do now as an adult, I think he often used music to express himself when words couldn't. It makes perfect sense to me.
Once again, the legacy handed down to me is a gift more precious than gold or jewels. Thanks Dad, for opening that amazing world to me. And Happy Birthday in Heaven on Sunday. I know last year you had a special guest arrive for the party. Please make sure that this year there is lots of music with all those wonderful people you will celebrate with there. And know that I'll be singing your praises down here. Love you Dad.
Music began for me then, in our home as a child, and continued through piano lessons, clarinet lessons, band, marching band, band camp, baritone sax in jazz band, band at Culver Military Academy, choir, and the Marian College Drum & Bugle Corps. A firm foundation had been laid and I had no idea yet how precious that would be for me.
Who doesn't occasionally hear an old song that immediately and magically transports you back to a time or place - sometimes wonderful, sometimes not so much. Some songs make me think of certain people, some make me think of specific events, some are just so tender that they touch me emotionally. I have lived through vinyl, 8 track, cassettes, CDs and now digital music. I have some of it all. It's as hard for me to part with a favorite track as it is a favorite book. (We'll talk about my hoarding tendencies another time!)
My point is that I grew up with music, relate to music, delight in it, drown in it, desire it. Over these past few years, that particular gift imparted by my father has proven more precious than ever. When you find yourself so very often alone and are also so very unaccustomed to solitude, music can help fill the void. My dear husband, also said that after he was gone, I should listen to lyrics, because he would be there in those lyrics for me. How comforting to hear a love song and imagine that I can see and hear him behind the words.
Favorite genres? I don't know that there are any. I'm trying to stay current in what happens in music and am finding great pleasure in Maddie and Tae, Adele, Jason Mrasz, Coldplay, to name a few. I love what are now the "oldies" that I grew up listening to, as well as music especially from the 40's. It was SO romantic. I love country, gospel, classical, John Philip Sousa, R&B, jazz, probably everything but rap, metal and hip hop.
I chose "My Life is in Your Hands" by Kathy Troccoli to be my Lent song. This morning listening to Firefall and "Just Remember I Love You", it could have been Dave singing, or it could be a message from God. Diamond Rio's "One More Day" always makes me think of Adam. Van Halen's "Jump" takes me back to little boys who loved to be silly and jump their way through that song when it came on. John Fogerty's "Put Me In Coach" covers Chad's high school years. "Unanswered Prayers" could be my theme song.
I suppose I have moved past liking just what melody appeals to me, and have become more of a lyrical fan. And since lyrics to a song are much like a Sunday sermon, where everyone wonders how the priest knew that was just what they needed to hear, I can relate to almost everything, especially with more life experience likely behind me than ahead of me.
At night when I can't sleep, which is often, I have taken to listening to Christian music, and have found that it backfired a bit, as I am anxious to hear what the next song will be, so I'm not falling asleep as I'd like. I guess I'll need to try some ambient sounds. From Disney to Andrea Boccelli, Creedence Clearwater to Glenn Miller, music speaks to me and my soul yearns for it. I think it helps me through this journey, particularly now. It provides a focus, pulls me out of the fog, puts a smile on my face or a tear in my eye. Sometimes I sing loudly and dance, and other times I am as still as can be absorbing it all. But it helps me to navigate my emotions. I never want the music to die. My all time favorite has always been and always will be "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". I began to love it just because I loved the Wizard of Oz. It has been covered by the best of the best and it always calms me. I now love it just for the lyrics - so simple, so true. A close second is Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World". Number three probably has to be "Just the Way You Look Tonight". But that has a memory that connects me to my Dad. I could go on and on and I'd have a hard time naming all the songs that I connect to, but what I will say is that music has become an extension of my soul.
Maybe the quote above hits home for me because my Dad was a man of few words. When he spoke, it was well worth it to listen. But I would say that knowing him as I do now as an adult, I think he often used music to express himself when words couldn't. It makes perfect sense to me.
Once again, the legacy handed down to me is a gift more precious than gold or jewels. Thanks Dad, for opening that amazing world to me. And Happy Birthday in Heaven on Sunday. I know last year you had a special guest arrive for the party. Please make sure that this year there is lots of music with all those wonderful people you will celebrate with there. And know that I'll be singing your praises down here. Love you Dad.
Monday, February 8, 2016
A Little Bit of Heaven
That's the name of the movie I just finished watching. Probably not the smartest choice this week, as it is about a young woman who dies - and her relationships with her friends and family. But I thought it was so well done I was sucked clear into it before I realized that I would need more Kleenex nearby. And trust me, due to a week into a sinus infection and a rough week of memories, I've gone through more than usual lately as it is. And I wanted to whine on Facebook about being sick and being alone, with no one to get what I need, no one to help make it easier, no one to just brush you hair back from your forehead and hold your hand or rub your back for a bit. And then I remember that some people have NEVER had that and I'm just spoiled. I've had that little bit of heaven, from the time I was born to just over a year ago. 58 years of a little bit of heaven - not bad. Decided against the whiny FB post.
I made a decision a while ago that having Adam's Victorian bulldog was just too much for me. He is still a big puppy, just over a year old, and needs so much more attention and training than I am able to give him. He and Seamus are so competitive for my time that by the time I can sit in the evening and spend time with them, they don't relax. They both are legitimately vying for my attention and poor Kevlar did not have the benefit of enough training Adam would have provided for him, so none of us was enjoying each other the way a dog or master should. So I was able to foster him out to dear, dear friends from Oklahoma, whose son went to boot camp when Adam did, met Adam and knew him even better through Dave and I. We spent our time at MCRD Boot Camp graduation together on base and have had a couple of wonderful visits since then. He will be loved by a Marine, who knows us, knows Adam's story, knows how important that Kevlar is to our family and that gives me comfort. Parting with him was harder than I ever imagined, and I felt that I was failing Adam in that I couldn't manage having him, but I know that's not the case. I did the right thing for Kevlar and made one Jarhead pretty happy to have the bulldog he always wanted. Thank goodness for technology, as I'll be able to watch him grow and thrive. And the fact that they drove back to Indiana after being here not that long ago to come fetch him was a bonus, as they were here with me over the weekend, sick as I was, and made it easier for me. Another little piece of heaven.
Yesterday marked a year since I last saw my sweet boy, and I think that it's the hardest day I have sustained to date. He did several special things for me that day. Most of you know, he secured my home by installing new locks to be sure I'd be safe, and left me with probably his most prized possession beyond his wife and children that day. It was an emotional good-bye that night, but I was buoyed by just time spent with him, as I am with his brother. Any time spent with either of my sons is such a joy and a gift. Had I known what was to happen within the week, I don't know if I could have let him go. But that's not how God works. Instead, on that last wonderful day, God shared a little piece of heaven.
As I miss my son, I always find that I miss Dave even more too. I long for the comfort of my partner, my loving husband, my friend. Even as ill as he became, there was not a night he did not come in to tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight. I miss his hugs, I miss his laugh, I miss his practical logic, I miss his touch. Yet I feel he is all around me - just out of reach. Another piece of heaven.
Last summer, people began to tell me that the second year would be worse than the first. I'm beginning to understand what they meant. What I thought was grief in the beginning, I will now say was shock. I have somehow managed to survive with a horrible memory, moving sluggishly through a dense fog, to pay bills, go to work, do chores, etc. But I was numb. Either death would have done that to me, but I had not even fully absorbed what life would be without Dave before Adam was gone. It's been almost 15 months since I last kissed my husband goodnight, and now one year since I was able to be enveloped in my son's bear hugs. I'm not as numb. The shock has worn away and the reality is setting in. And it is more painful realizing that the hurt and lonliness I feel is not going away anytime soon. Two of the people I held most dear are never coming back and it makes me so unbelievably sad. The pain may not be as raw as it was initially, but it seems to go deeper. I've moved from just coping and functioning, to being faced with planning a future without them in my life. There are moments when I realize that I am not tied down anywhere and the world is my oyster right now, as they say. But I haven't quite adjusted to the idea that I don't have an anchor, that I want to go forward solo. I know I will, and I know I will find my joy again. I'm committed to it. I believe it's the only way to pay homage to these men I love so much, and that includes Chad as well. But I have to get past Valentine's Day. And that is going to be a major hurdle - my Dad's birthday, the holiday just for my husband and I to share, and the day my son went to his piece of heaven.
Thank the Good Lord that I do believe in heaven. I do believe in salvation and I believe that those I love are enjoying their eternal rest in a place that is more than I can comprehend. And they are enjoying it pain free and in the presence of our God. What an amazing piece of heaven. That, and the family I still have that I love so dearly, and fortunately, they love me in return, is more than enough for me to keep going. Even on days I have trouble even moving from one room to the other, I know that with trust in God, the prayers offered on my behalf, and the amazing support I receive from family and friends, I will eventually crest a hill and find my new normal. Until then, what they give me is enough heaven to keep me on the path.
I made a decision a while ago that having Adam's Victorian bulldog was just too much for me. He is still a big puppy, just over a year old, and needs so much more attention and training than I am able to give him. He and Seamus are so competitive for my time that by the time I can sit in the evening and spend time with them, they don't relax. They both are legitimately vying for my attention and poor Kevlar did not have the benefit of enough training Adam would have provided for him, so none of us was enjoying each other the way a dog or master should. So I was able to foster him out to dear, dear friends from Oklahoma, whose son went to boot camp when Adam did, met Adam and knew him even better through Dave and I. We spent our time at MCRD Boot Camp graduation together on base and have had a couple of wonderful visits since then. He will be loved by a Marine, who knows us, knows Adam's story, knows how important that Kevlar is to our family and that gives me comfort. Parting with him was harder than I ever imagined, and I felt that I was failing Adam in that I couldn't manage having him, but I know that's not the case. I did the right thing for Kevlar and made one Jarhead pretty happy to have the bulldog he always wanted. Thank goodness for technology, as I'll be able to watch him grow and thrive. And the fact that they drove back to Indiana after being here not that long ago to come fetch him was a bonus, as they were here with me over the weekend, sick as I was, and made it easier for me. Another little piece of heaven.
Yesterday marked a year since I last saw my sweet boy, and I think that it's the hardest day I have sustained to date. He did several special things for me that day. Most of you know, he secured my home by installing new locks to be sure I'd be safe, and left me with probably his most prized possession beyond his wife and children that day. It was an emotional good-bye that night, but I was buoyed by just time spent with him, as I am with his brother. Any time spent with either of my sons is such a joy and a gift. Had I known what was to happen within the week, I don't know if I could have let him go. But that's not how God works. Instead, on that last wonderful day, God shared a little piece of heaven.
As I miss my son, I always find that I miss Dave even more too. I long for the comfort of my partner, my loving husband, my friend. Even as ill as he became, there was not a night he did not come in to tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight. I miss his hugs, I miss his laugh, I miss his practical logic, I miss his touch. Yet I feel he is all around me - just out of reach. Another piece of heaven.
Last summer, people began to tell me that the second year would be worse than the first. I'm beginning to understand what they meant. What I thought was grief in the beginning, I will now say was shock. I have somehow managed to survive with a horrible memory, moving sluggishly through a dense fog, to pay bills, go to work, do chores, etc. But I was numb. Either death would have done that to me, but I had not even fully absorbed what life would be without Dave before Adam was gone. It's been almost 15 months since I last kissed my husband goodnight, and now one year since I was able to be enveloped in my son's bear hugs. I'm not as numb. The shock has worn away and the reality is setting in. And it is more painful realizing that the hurt and lonliness I feel is not going away anytime soon. Two of the people I held most dear are never coming back and it makes me so unbelievably sad. The pain may not be as raw as it was initially, but it seems to go deeper. I've moved from just coping and functioning, to being faced with planning a future without them in my life. There are moments when I realize that I am not tied down anywhere and the world is my oyster right now, as they say. But I haven't quite adjusted to the idea that I don't have an anchor, that I want to go forward solo. I know I will, and I know I will find my joy again. I'm committed to it. I believe it's the only way to pay homage to these men I love so much, and that includes Chad as well. But I have to get past Valentine's Day. And that is going to be a major hurdle - my Dad's birthday, the holiday just for my husband and I to share, and the day my son went to his piece of heaven.
Thank the Good Lord that I do believe in heaven. I do believe in salvation and I believe that those I love are enjoying their eternal rest in a place that is more than I can comprehend. And they are enjoying it pain free and in the presence of our God. What an amazing piece of heaven. That, and the family I still have that I love so dearly, and fortunately, they love me in return, is more than enough for me to keep going. Even on days I have trouble even moving from one room to the other, I know that with trust in God, the prayers offered on my behalf, and the amazing support I receive from family and friends, I will eventually crest a hill and find my new normal. Until then, what they give me is enough heaven to keep me on the path.
"I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone
Be with me now
Be with me now
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone
Be with me now
Be with me now
Breath of heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven
Breath of heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy
Breath of heaven"
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven
Breath of heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy
Breath of heaven"
Amy Grant & Chris Eaton
"Breath of Heaven"
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