We are getting really good at pretending...

We pretended Thanksgiving was not on Thursday this year and held a “family get-together” on Saturday instead that was definitely not Thanksgiving.  

Then we pretended for some reason -- perhaps a new law went into effect - one that I don't remember ever voting for, like day-light savings time or mandatory insurance -- that required that Christmas be canceled this year.  Maybe it will be on schedule for next year who knows? Congress is still out on that right now.  But for 2014 Christmas was eliminated from the calendar.

I also pretended Paxton was just out of town for his third birthday.  Maybe off to Florida enjoying Disney or Legoland and that is why we did not buy the gifts we'd wanted to give him or have cake and watch him blow out candles or gather around him and sing “Haddy Dirtday” to him. 

Then I had the brilliant idea to actually let Brian’s birthday take place this year.  I decided we would remember him by baking his favorite cake then we would all get together and go out for pizza.  We'd reminisce about him tell funny "Brian stories" laugh and celebrate his life.

That did not work out quite like I’d planned.  

I cried for three solid weeks afterward.

Turns out pretending was working way better for me so I opted to go back to pretending.   And so Easter this year was just another Sunday.  For the first time in twenty years we did not attend Sunrise Service or the fellowship breakfast afterward.  I did not go and help out with the Easter-Egg hunt on Saturday (although I did stuff 180 plastic eggs so as not to be a complete slacker.)  I did not buy a new springy pastel Easter dress but instead rummaged through my closet and dragged out a regular black and tan dress. I raked a comb through my hair, dabbed on some mascara and managed to show up for Sunday-School.  I didn’t even hear the sermon preached during the regular service but chose to keep the nursery instead.  I saw none of my children or grandchildren nor did I, in fact, see any family at all other than my husband that lives there.  The two of us ate lunch out and came back to the rental house early and watched TV till time to go to bed.

I’m going to Memphis to Graceland for Mother’s Day.  I'm pretending to be on vacation...

My latest gift...

I had had a particularly difficult week again last week and was feeling like God was so far from me.  I was finally able to sit down in the quiet and pray a little.  All I could pray for was for God to let me know He was in fact, still there.  I just needed to hear from Him in some small way to give me the little bit of assurance that I needed to get by another day or another week.

The very next evening I received yet another gift. 

He gave me the gift Brian’s humor.  Words straight from Brian that literally made me laugh out loud.

I had been sending photos that I had of the baby and Kara to Kara’s mom and had decided to go onto my Shutterfly account and see what was on there that she may want.  Turns out I had not been on the site in a couple of years.  The last time I’d signed in and downloaded some photos I had “apparently” set up a family page so that the kids and my sisters would have access to the pictures that I had taken.  As I told Kara’s mom about the pictures I was sending her – I love taking pictures and sometimes I would just randomly take Paxton outside and let him play and just snap away.  So consequently, I have hundreds of pictures - bad shots, shots of him crawling away, shots of him crying and sometimes that rare --perfectly timed, just the right lighting, just the cutest expression – “perfect shot.”  I had downloaded an afternoon of that kind of session to Shutterfly and sent Brian a link. 

Two years and seven months later I go back to find he has left goofy comments on a few of my crazy pictures.  Comments I had never seen; comments so typical of Brian until I could almost hear his voice as I read them and then for the first time in many months I thought of him and genuinely laughed out loud.  It felt so good and so right and I was so grateful. 

Thank you God for answering that prayer in the sweetest way.  

Enjoy!

brian m "so if I slip you this $5 bill, then did you still see me poop my pants? 

brian m

"and she kept taking these pictures of me doing dumb things...I told her I had enough but..."

brian m "so I was like, give me my keys.  I'm good to drive home...then it hit me - I'm a baby, how the heck did I drive here?!"

August 31, 2012•

The little unexpected changes of grief

Personality changes are among the weirdest of the changes that have taken place since “this”. 

When you hear that profound grief changes you – you don’t really have any idea of the full impact of that statement.  You think:  "Well, of course I know that it has changed my family.  There are so many empty chairs now, meaningless birthdays, hard holidays and bad anniversaries.”  And of course you see how it might change your roles in life; if you were a primary care-giver to one that had an extended illness, you suddenly find yourself without a purpose. Or perhaps your identity as someone’s wife has changed and you aren't sure who you define yourself as anymore or the daily routine of being someone’s mother leaves your days empty and quiet.   You may change where you physically reside because of the passing of a spouse requires that you move to something more manageable or less expensive.  Your responsibilities may change in that you now have to do things that someone else once handled for you.  These things are the things the books and the grief classes prepare you for.  These are common sense and while you may not think of them all at first –they are logical and natural expectations.

But no one prepares you for the changes to your actual personality. 

Like the way you suddenly relate to all of your personal relationships:  The sudden and unexpected intolerance for certain types of people in your life; or the exact opposite –the sudden uncontrollable clinginess you have towards certain others? 

Before - I wanted people in my life.  Any people. All people.  No matter that they were not particularly "good" friends to me.  I kept friends that weren't always honest with me; friends that had ulterior motives; friends that were insincere and self-absorbed. It is not like I was blind before and could not see who they really were – I knew.  I always knew.  I just didn't care.  I allowed them into my life and even at times, struggled to keep them there.   Perhaps my “co-dependent “ tendencies made me cling to even toxic relationships – because they were better than no relationships.  I needed “friends” however loosely one might define that term.  

After - it is not that I no longer need people in my life but I find am choosing quality over quantity. 

It seems that after, I am seeing things much clearer. I can no longer close my eyes to things I once could and a relationship regardless of the quality of that relationship just does not fly anymore.  Maybe it's because I have now experienced the worst of the worst and realize that being without a lot of people in your life really does not kill you.  Losing those people that really matter in your life -- that is what kills you.  

I have learned the difference between real true pain and isolation and the imagined pain and isolation I feared would come from being without a lot of people in my life.  

I also see that life is short and that the quality of people I was spending the precious few days of my life on was taking away from the relationships that mattered.  

When you have been through something like the loss of a child, two children – three; your need for loving, quality relationships is so intense that things very quickly become black and white. 

Toxic relationships are all-consuming emotional vacuums; they are time consuming, resource consuming and downright painful at times.  Perhaps when you have been through something as horrific as this – you simply cannot take anymore pain and you just have to eliminate it where you can. 

Perhaps it is just an application of the Serenity Prayer:  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.  

Words...

Do you know how bad it hurts to write the word “Deceased” on a piece of paper as it refers to your child?  I didn’t.  And I hope and pray that you never do.  Unfortunately, I have had to write it and say it over and over as his bills still continue to come in --today, is seven months later. Probably because some had been returned in our rather untimely gathering of his mail.

Like "suicide", "murder" or "autopsy",  it too, is an ugly, hideous word that makes me want to scream every time I have to write it.  

Speaking of words – it never ceases to amaze me at the things people say.

When Paxton’s name was mentioned in a conversation just recently – someone actually said to me:

“He sure was spoiled.”  

I won’t argue that point here but suffice it to say that I certainly do not agree with it. My issue lies with "that" being the only thing someone can think of to say to me about the baby I loved and lost.  Seriously? 

Those are not words that have a warm fuzzy feeling attached to them – “spoiled” invokes visions of smelly food left out on the counter too long or brown mushy bananas or soured milk thick and molded to the bottom of a week-old baby bottle that mysteriously appeared from under the car seat.

That is not a word that I would ever attach to that beautiful little boy with the quick smile and the laughing brown eyes. 

But even if you didn't love him or even know him - why would you think this was an appropriate thing to say about the baby that we just lost?  Really, why?  This would be pushing it if he were alive and well and standing in my living room.  And then as if to justify that it was not meant to be a negative statement about me or my son – they actually qualified it with “Well his mama spoiled him.” And this somehow made it better – how? Now you have just said something with negative conotations about my baby and the daughter in law I loved and also lost?

His mama loved him.  His mama appreciated the gift she had been given when she thought she would never be able to have a baby. His mama treasured every precious moment and celebrated every little milestone and his mama enjoyed his sweet and fleeting baby days.  His mama - did exactly what she was supposed to do - she loved him.  We all loved him.

I was left speechless, devastated and literally sick to my stomach.  Tears are always so close to the surface and the stinging words left me afraid to say much of anything afraid if I started I might not stop...crying or cussing.  But after I’d regained my composure I thought perhaps I should have said: “Let me ask for just a moment, that you put yourself in my shoes.  Not a good place to be I assure you but, close your eyes and imagine for just a moment that the child that has died here is your child instead. Feel the heartache and pain of that loss for just a moment.  Imagine now that the child you loved has been "cremated" (another really hateful word) and all you have left of the beautiful little life she was -- is a few static toys that you cling desperately to and a sprinkling of her ashes tucked into the bale of a small necklace.  But her laughter, her smile, her soft baby hair, her sweetness and her joy is gone forever from your life.  You could never imagine your life without her.  And you do not, in fact, even want a life without her…and now what would you say to the person that at the mention of her precious name, says to you about this child: “She sure was spoiled.” ?

Now open your eyes and go enjoy your child because you still can and please be a little more aware of the effect your words can have on someone.  I know this was not said to hurt me - but it so did.

*****

After several months of not knowing how to tell anyone that did not already know about my children, I finally got up the nerve or whatever you call it to write a letter and as carefully and succinctly as possible, tell a long-time friend that lives in Minnesota as much as we knew about what had happened.  I related the story as gently as I could and also let her know about my sister’s leukemia.  Bear in mind, nothing was ever mentioned about feeling suicidal or anything emotional like that just saying that I apologized for not telling her sooner and I just wanted her to know.

Imagine my surprise at her response to me: 

“Why don’t you just go ahead and kill yourself!  All you are thinking about here is yourself.  You have a responsibility to your sister and others and you need to be strong and stop feeling sorry for yourself.”   Then she follows that up the next day with a second email telling me that I need to “grow up” and "You are going to have to stop telling all your problems to me." (???) "This mess has kept me up all night long and I need my sleep!"   

I'm sure I do not need to add here that she has never had children...

Seriously – I need some new friends.

Just random thoughts

It has been one of the hardest weeks in many months.  Brian’s birthday apparently woke me from a numbness that I had not even realized I was in.  I have cried non-stop until I wonder how much more one can cry and keep producing tears. 

I am not a crier as a general rule.  But the tears I’ve cried since August 23, 2014 far outweigh all the tears I’d cried in the entire 60 years prior.  And I wonder if they will ever stop?

Funny how you will have weird premonitions about things and never understand them until you look back.  I started a Memoir about five years ago and titled it: “Bring on the Rain”. 

Well—it’s here.

And five years ago I thought I’d had a pretty rough life – Oh God, I didn’t know anything then.

But another weird premonition that I have just recently remembered haunts me now day and night.  It came with the announcement that Brian and Kara were engaged to be married.  I kept feeling very anxious and nervous and I told my friend Sara that I was and that I kept having the feeling like “if they get married, he will die.”

I had no idea how or why but those are the words that came to me regarding my anxiety about their marriage.  She kept asking “Why?  What are you thinking is going to happen?”  I had no clear answer except that I just had a bad feeling and felt like he would die.  I could not enjoy the wedding or feel happy for them and I was a nervous wreck for the entire first year.   Then I blew it off and finally got okay with it.  And then…he died.  She died.  They all died.

Things have been very hard lately and I feel like I am hanging off of a mile-high cliff and clinging to the edge by the tips of my fingers –like any little miscue and I’ll plunge to the bottom or I will just tire of hanging on and plunge to the bottom or something will come along and stomp my fingers and I will plunge to the bottom.

Though I’m not completely sure what the “bottom” actually is -- I’m absolutely positive that the threat is very real.  Is it physical death; spiritual death or just a complete break from reality?  I’m not sure but it is an overwhelming darkness that threatens to swallow me and I feel powerless to stop it.

I am not sleeping and I’m sure that is exacerbating any negative feelings I may have.  If I happen to go to sleep it is after midnight and I am waking at 3:00am –even with sleep aids.  That makes it very hard to function on my job or in my life.  What few minutes I slept last night I dreamed that I picked up my phone and had a text message from Brian.  It shocked me so until it woke me up and so I did not get to see what it said – nor did I go back to sleep.  I am running off of 90 minutes of sleep all night and I have a nine hour day at work and an hour commute and then GriefShare until 9:00 tonight.

I feel like I need to get away for a while and yet we had vacation scheduled for next week and I cancelled it.  I just could not go.  Not even my favorite spot – the beach - was a draw.  I was simply not up to planning anything or packing or driving 8-hours.  Nor did I really feel like anything would be enjoyable.  I can’t really see spending the money to sit in a condo somewhere and cry when I can do that at home for free.   

My all time favorite

Brian always kept the entire family entertained.  He just always had such an unusual way of looking at things and always just said the first thing that came into his head.

My sister came and had lunch with me today for support as she knew yesterday was going to be hard on me.  Today I was able to talk about Brian.  We sat outside in the little garden picnic area provided by our building and as I looked down at the beautiful blooming Hyacinths I remembered one mother’s day when he was about 13, Brian asked me what kind of flowers I liked.  (His dad had put him up to asking.)  I am not a long-stemmed roses kind of person and told him I would like something that I could plant in the yard.  I said, "How about hyacinths - I love hyacinths."  He later told me about going into the garden shop with his dad to get them and he told the lady he couldn’t remember what they were but they were pink and sounded like Hippopotamus! 

Miraculously, she sent them home with a pretty pink Hyacinth tied up with a bow. 

She laughed and then she reminded me of her all-time favorite “Brian story”.  Which I agreed was also mine.  And I decided to share it here.

During the 1980’s I used to be a lot more organized than I am today.  Had I not been with three kids, cats, dogs, rabbits, a full time job and attending college classes in the evenings – I would have misplaced a child or two on a daily basis.  One thing I credited with helping me keep down the clutter was that the American Kidney Foundation sent trucks around regularly to pick up household items and clothing donations.  I was diligent about clearing out the clothes and shoes that the kids had outgrown or older toys that they no longer played with.  We just did not have the additional drawer/closet space to spare.  So consequently, I was on their list of “regulars” and they frequently placed a courtesy call to me the week they would be in my area.  I was in the middle of preparing country-fried steak for dinner when one such call came in.

Brian was home from track practice and was in the kitchen with me chattering away about his day when the phone rang.  I turned to him with both hands full of flour and said: “Grab that would ya and see who it is – tell them I’ll call them back in just a few minutes.”

And this was what I heard on his end. 

“Hello, no, she’s busy right now.  Can I ask who is calling and have her call you back?” 

Suddenly, his face turns ashen and he has the most confused and …disgusted look on his face and then he literally yells into the phone:  

“DO WHAT?  Like WHAT?  Spare body parts?”

And with that he shoves the phone at me and literally runs from the room sick to his stomach.  Totally baffled, I take the phone --dusting everything in White Lily Flour --and say: “Hello?”

On the other end the lady is literally rolling in the floor and she says through fits of laughter:

“Yes mam, I’m with the Kidney Foundation and we are going to have our truck in your area this week and were wondering if you had any donations you wanted us to pick up?”

Brian's 42nd birthday

Well, I expected it to be hard and it certainly did not disappoint.  I decided I might not have enough time to get it all in --so I started crying yesterday.  And kept it up periodically all day today as well.  It was harder than Christmas, Thanksgiving and even Paxton's birthday although that was really tough too. 


I baked his favorite German Chocolate cake because the lady leading the meetings at GriefShare suggested we actually acknowledge or even celebrate his birthday.  It would make us feel closer and like he had not been forgotten.  So I had planned to have lunch with my daughter and son in law, talk about Brian and tell some funny stories about him or share our favorite memories, have his favorite cake and feel like we had honored his memory and acknowledged that he was still a part of our family and always would be.  I baked the cake...


I cried all through the cake baking wishing I had baked it last year but knowing I did not.  We went to lunch - I cried all the way there and all the way back and couldn't talk about him at all because I knew I would make a scene in the restaurant.  Then they showed me his daughter's post on Facebook and that made me cry. 


She posted a sweet note to him that sadly I knew was something that he had waited his entire life to hear. She told him how she wished he could see that baby and that she now finally realized how much he had loved the three of them.  She said she finally understood how deep a parent's love really was.  She said she loved him and she wished that she had told him.  He, like most parents, would have given all he had to hear her acknowledge that.


I had wanted to write something special for him today much like she did but for some reason - I can't.  All I can do is cry. 


Here we are almost seven months later.  We still have no idea what actually happened.  And though I have honestly "tried" to buy the story we have --I still can't.  You just had to know him like we all knew him.  He had a quick temper that is true but he has never been able to hurt anything in his entire life.  He had a temper but he could never hold a grudge.  He blew it off and was completely over it and remorseful in 10 minutes.  He was just loud.  But truly good-hearted.  He loved deeply and was loyal to a fault. 


It was his birthday six years ago and he had run back into Kara that week after six years had passed since they had first met - "Mom, I know you are going to think I am crazy but I let her get away one time, and I do not intend to do that again."


They had met when he was thirty years old and she was just 18 and right out of school.  He went out with her a few times and even brought her to church once then he abruptly broke it off.  He said she was just too young.  Even though he did not look but about nineteen himself - he had lived a lot more of life than she had and he was afraid.  He was afraid she would regret not living some of her life before she settled down.  He was afraid she would do like his first wife and wait until she was 25 and then decide she wanted to live all the life she had missed.  He had reservations about what his kids would think; what other people would think; what her parents would think; how she would relate to his kids considering her age. He could not handle it and so he broke it off and apparently always regretted it. 


He said he had looked for her everywhere he went.  He only dated two girls in between and he could never commit.  He said he had not been consciously waiting on her but he did admit he could never completely get her out of his mind.  When they ran into each other after six years he asked her to marry him two weeks later!  She was grown now and he no longer had the same worries and reservations about her and he was determined never to lose her again. That was the week of his 36th birthday.  They married the following July.  He felt like all that had been taken from him when his first wife left was being restored to him.  And he was happier than I had ever seen him.  He had never thought he could ever trust again and used to always say he would never marry again.  But not only did he know immediately that he wanted to marry Kara - trust was never an issue. 


She loved him and she made sure he knew it.  He never doubted her love for him even after all he'd been through. She admired him for his talents.  She trusted his judgment in everything and she always liked the fact that he was the head of the family and took care of the finances.  Unlike most girls her age - independence was something she cared very little about.  His taking care of those things was actually a measure of security to her and I believe with all my heart that she loved her life with him.  He also admired her.  He admired who she was as a person - her honesty and dedication to their marriage and their home.  He trusted her completely and always knew she was a good-hearted person.  He admired her as a mother and in five years of marriage he never once complained about anything to do with her.  He never to my knowledge ever said an unkind word about her to anyone.  He always bragged on her cooking and what a good housekeeper she was and thought she was absolutely the best mom ever to their son.  He would have given her anything she wanted that was in his power to provide.


There is just still no way that I can know who he was in his heart and believe he was in any way capable of this.  I know I'm his mother but it isn't just me - no one that ever knew him can believe it.  There was nothing he would not do for anyone. 


He was my heart and I don't know how I will ever live without him but still to me the hardest part of this is the legacy this leaves for him that I will never believe he deserves.


Brian, I love you with all my heart and I miss you more than I even thought possible and no matter what - I knew who you were and nothing will ever make me believe this. 


Forty -two years ago I became Brian's mom - and nothing will ever change that.