Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Crazy week. Cuckoo crazy. I'd write it all out here, but it always makes me a little nutz to read posts where people list off all the stuff they've accomplished. Especially if I've accomplished nothing.
I finished packing and loading the van. That's all that really matters. It's been hard, the last while, and every day seems to get harder. How does a person pack for their first ever Christmas without their Daddy? I'll tell you how. They put it off till the last possible minute and then wildly throw everything together in a big rush.
Tonight I am doing what my Gramma Newson calls "eating and eating". And some drinking and drinking. (Not that kind of drinking. Just regular drinking.) I'm hoping if I eat and drink tons tonight I won't be too hungry or thirsty tomorrow. If I weren't driving I wouldn't worry about not being allowed to eat or drink till after my dentist thing, but I always get so hungry when I'm driving, don't you?
And speaking of dental things, it's tomorrow at 2:45. Pray I don't die. (I really shouldn't have googled. When will I learn?) Hopefully it will go well, and in a few days I'll be feeling fab minus eight teeth. Either way, by this time tomorrow it will all be over but the crying.
So I'll talk to all of you once some of the drugs wear off. Peace out.
(Wait. What if I die? I can't have "peace out" be the last thing I write on my blog. Yes, I am that morbid. And that paranoid.)
Love you all.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Yeah. I can't do it. At least not all of it. I can't think of anything tonight.
Except, this Spring when Dad was in University Hospital, I took Ben and Sam to visit him. When we left Dad stood in his window so we could wave at him from the parking lot. And when we drove away he was still standing there.
I picture him standing there so small in one of so many windows... Getting smaller as we drove away, and then out of sight. It was excruciating to leave him there that day.
I miss him.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Well people, it's that time of year again. Time for Becky's Twelve Days of Christmas. Only, I'm thinking I might pass on it this year. For two reasons:
- I'm not sure I can come up with twelve favorite things for twelve days in a row. If you hadn't noticed during NaBloPoMo, I tend to end up with a large quantity of depressing posts when I have to post every day.
- I have dental surgery booked on the 18th, and I'm thinking that I won't feel much like posting after having eight teeth removed. (Four wisdom, two baby, and two impacted adult teeth. Sounds fun, yes?)
I think I'll spend some more time agonizing over my upcoming dentist's visit. It's going to be a cake-walk compared to... Other stuff.
Blah. I hate how whiny and depressed I've been lately. It's depressing.
Friday, December 11, 2009
We got a new book order yesterday. Don't you just LOVE book orders? I do. LOVE.
Anyways, I always try to let the kids each pick the book that they'd like to get. Ben got a Hotwheels pack of three books and Sam got the book that he is going to "read" for all of you in this video. So everyone gather around, sitting criss-cross apple sauce, hands to yourself, and listening ears on. Once upon a time...
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
This is the slide show that we played at Dad's funeral. I've been meaning to post it over on his blog, but there were some things on it that needed to be fixed and honestly, it's very hard to look through pictures of him.
Today though, I looked at all kinds of pictures and videos. I can't believe that they are the only way I get to see him now. I miss him more every day.
Sometime this summer I was riding beside Dad in his car back to Martensville from a trip into Saskatoon for something that I don't remember now. I don't remember how we got onto the topic, but he told me that he wanted the song on the slide show played at his funeral. That version. And I said, "Well, thanks for telling me, and I'll try to remember, but you may want to write that down somewhere since it'll be a long time till I need to know that, and I'm sure I'll have forgotten by then."
We both knew I was only trying to brazen it out. We both knew I was scared that maybe he should be telling me lots of stuff like that.
Today he's been gone for two months. It feels like two minutes and two years at the same time. One of the videos I watched of Dad today was of us walking with Ben while he rode his new bike for the first time. I watched and listened to video Becky talking to video Dad. I saw us walking along behind Ben on his bike, and chatting about whether to try and re-adjust the training wheels, or whether to just take the bike back and get a new one, and even though I remember being there very clearly and I knew it wouldn't happen... I found myself willing video Becky to put her arm around him. "Hug him! He's right there! Just reach out and touch his arm."
He was right there.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
I was expecting it a lot sooner actually. My first dream with Dad alive. It helped that I was very aware that he had died, and that the time we had with him was not going to last, that the next day he was going to go back to Seattle for more treatment, and that he wasn't going to make it... Again.
He wanted to take Mom shopping. That part hurt. And it hurt that I found myself playing on the computer and watching TV and saying to myself, "I shouldn't be doing this, this is my last night with him." I suppose it's natural to resent every minute you spent doing other things, when you lose the chance to spend time with someone you love, so no mysteries about where this dream came from.
The part that hurt the most though was the hope, of course. Because, even though I knew he had died, and that this new treatment wasn't going to work, a little piece of me was still hoping that maybe he would go back to Seattle and this time he would come home. Hope hurts almost as badly as despair sometimes. Because of course, there is no "this time". There's no more time.
I'm just glad this dream wasn't too hopeful. I'm not looking forward to the one that is so real I wake up thinking he's still alive. That one will really hurt. This one was sad, but I'm used to sad.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Today I've been thinking a lot about last year. Last year's NaBloPoMo... Last year's excitement. Last year's worries. Last year's happiness. Last year's memories.
And last year's comments. Last year Dad wrote comments. On here and on Ben and Sam's blogs. Make sure you look at the comments on those posts I listed. Dad wrote comments on most of them. All of them break my heart a little, but this one especially:
"Thanks Becky. I cried a little as well,,,,I sometimes have morning sickness,,,am I pregnant? I too would like to see a little girl in your life. I would like to see one in mine, cause I remember the relationship that my daughters and all my nieces had with my dad. I want to be that kind of grandfather in a little girls life. But I also think of my three grandsons and I wouldn't trade one of them for a little girl. So thanks Becky, regardless of the outcome we are all waiting with bated breath."
Why can't he be here to be that grampa for Hannah? And the boys? And the rest of us?
And last year at this time I wrote that by this year at this time I was hoping all the hard stuff would be over. I was looking forward to "By this time next year". Which kills me. It kills me to think of me last year wishing for this year.
I know I've written this before, but this is still not real to me. Somehow, in my heart, I have this feeling that this is all wrong, and somehow it will be fixed. No matter how many times my head tries to get my heart caught up to reality, I still feel like I am on hold with some customer service line, just waiting for whoever is in charge to figure out what happened to my order, and refund me my missing dad.
And so, instead of facing this year's reality, I find myself wandering through last year's memories. Wishing I could go back. Wishing this wasn't real. Wishing for a comment that won't be there. Wishing there was a way... And honestly, feeling very angry and betrayed that there isn't. There isn't a way to bring him back, to fix this, and somehow I have to figure out a way to face it without having my heart ripped out.
But I got through this month. My first NaBloPoMo without my dad reading all my posts and commenting.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
I'm going to try REALLY hard here not to say a swear word.
I had a different post all ready. With pictures. Pictures like this: They won. They won the frickin game. It was over. OVER! Argh.
Dumb penalties happen all the time. Dumb penalties that make us mad because they didn't have to happen. And we say, "Oh, if it wasn't for that penalty..." Maybe... ??? But this time. THIS TIME.
I just. I can't even. Seriously. The only thing that makes this even a little bit better is that at least Dad wasn't here to see it. He would have been CHOKED. For weeks. Maybe months.
For crying out loud.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Just a little over a year ago I received an email that started like this:
First of all – you don’t know me, I live in Rosenort , MB , and I came across your blog through Heather’s and Janelle’s...
And it ended like this:
... If you have specific things you want prayed for, let me know and I will lift those request up to the only person who can totally help us….or if you don’t even want to respond to this email, don’t worry about it, like I said you don’t know me, and just wanted to tell you that I am praying for you!
- Martha Stoesz
And today I'm going to meet her! And hug her! A person that found me on the internet and has since then become a very dear friend. YAY! Doesn't blogging ROCK?
So I figured I better put up a post for today before she gets here and I'm too busy enjoying being face to face FINALLY! :)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Glen and I went to our very first parent-teacher interview today as parents, not teachers. Wild stuff. Happily, Ben is as good as he is cute. Our only concerns are his fine motor skills and of course, his anxiety levels. Have I mentioned before that Ben has some issues about going to school? He does. He cries a lot about it, and of course, it breaks this mommy's heart.
But he's doing well, and I know once he gets more confident it will go even better. And then, there's this adorable school picture. I'd invite you to try and convince me that there has ever been a cuter school picture taken in the history of school pictures, but it would be pointless. Nothing could convince me. That is the sweetest one I've ever seen, and it completely matches the boy on the inside, which makes it even sweeter.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I hope I'm allowed to do this. Wait. Let me check if Melissa is on facebook, and I'll ask. Nope. No Melissa. So I'll just have to risk it. And if I'm not allowed, she can tell me and I'll take this post down. But honestly, I can't think of anything any better than what I wrote last night, unless I do this:
I was at Johnny and Melissa's tonight, and Melissa dressed the little cuties up and let me take pictures of them. Those are my favorites. Seriously... ♥ ♥ ♥ I could just smush those two. They have to be two of the most adorable kids I've ever seen, and I don't think I'm being biased.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Oh man people, I am so tired. I don't know how taking my Gramma shopping can be so exhausting, but I am THRASHED. And mostly, I just stood around trying to keep my kids from running wild in the mall.
Anyways, that's my excuse for writing yet another LAME post. That and I'm watching the last episode of Jon & Kate Plus Eight. Also lame. And depressing. Not that the show is over, I'm fine with that. I think it should be over. It's just too bad that this is the way it's ending isn't it? DEPRESSING. I hope things get better for them. This is depressing me.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I had a lovely time tonight, even though a crazy shaman woman put bad magic on me. But more about that later. First, have a look at this:
Can you guess where I went? You can? If you read my friend Jen's blog at all, you should also be able to guess who I went with. That's the fancy envelope and tickets she decorated just for tonight's big event. And I have to tell you, I don't think I've enjoyed a night out at the movie's this much in... Ever?
Usually I don't like watching movies with a bunch of people I don't know, but every now and then there's nothing like watching a movie surrounded by a group of strangers. Like tonight. The movie was great, better than the first, but it was made even better by the giggling teens and crazed teens-at-heart. I laughed myself silly when "Jacob" took of his shirt accompanied by a chorus of "Woo hoo!" and applause all around me. Actually, I was already laughing from when it happened during a preview with Rob. SO. MUCH. FUN.
I was hexed though. Which explains why I forgot to put ketchup on my hotdog. AND why my feet WERE very cold. And why I just about didn't notice in time that the bathroom stall I was in had no toilet paper. That was a close one.
I suppose I shouldn't make fun, but it's hard not to make fun of a person who tells you she's a shaman and that she's putting bad medicine on you (with something in her purse) because you switched lines to stand with your mom and ordered your nachos in front of her. The poor frightened British woman behind me, and my mom when I told her about it later, were more concerned than I was. It's hard not to laugh in someone's face when they tell you they're going to make sure you have the worst night of your life, when you know darned well that spot was already taken. Sorry lady. You missed it by about two months.
Awe, that's still making it too serious. The real reason I'm really not concerned is this:
In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. John 14:20
And I really did have a fab time, from beginning to end. So, not a very effective hex.
And speaking of hexes, did I ever tell you about the time my uncle's partner Brent was hexed by a Swiss woman for making her fondu recipe with lowfat cheese? True story. Remind me to tell you about it sometime. I'm going to bed now, to dream of Jacob and Edward. Sigh. I never expected this to happen, but I was almost converted over to team Jacob tonight... Almost. But not quite. I mean, come ON.
COME on! Of course, you can't see his nipples here, which is a good thing. (See Melissa`s blog for more on that.)
Thanks Jen. That was SO fun.
Whoops. One more thing. Mom just googled "Edward's Nipple" and apparently, I'm not the only one who was appalled by what I saw at the clock tower. LOL.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I was going to post this picture yesterday under the title of "She Still Can't Sit, But She Can Do This:"
Not ten minutes after I took this picture though, I discovered her in the living room. Sitting.
It appears that she can sit, when she feels like it. And not at any other time.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
First things first, Shanna over at My Sweet Bowtique says that you can all have one free clippie with your order if you mention my blog, and I get three! Hurrah! Isn't that nice? I just wanted her to see the picture of Hannah all clippied up, so I sent her a link to my post and... Voilà! Free clippies for all!
In other shopping news, I came across this at Superstore yesterday.
On sale. So I don't need it on my Christmas list anymore. (Since I obviously started reading it last night, and nine people are already dead. Brutal. How did I forget Stephen King writes horror?) But don't worry, I found something else. Actually, I can't believe I forgot about this. I need it. Obviously.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Isn't that the coolest? LOL. I lurv it. And I lurv that dumb piano playing cat. And since I was awake anyways, I figured I could get today's post out of the way.
I'll bet that cat can hear all that music when it's playing. Just look in its dumb cat eyes and tell me it isn't hearing violins and flutes. (This reminds me of something Ang read me this summer. Ang, I'm gonna want to borrow that book when I get there, so I can post that thing about the reading cats on here. I'm laughing again just thinking about it.)
And if you didn't listen to the whole thing, and thought you could get the gist of it after the first minute or so, you were wrong. Go back and play the whole thing. And stop being so impatient and judgy. Just listen to it.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
I was wondering what to post today. I'm sick. Again. (Yay.) And in no mood to be creative, so it was lucky for me Carrie put up a whole bunch of YouTube videos as a post yesterday, which reminded me of one of my all time favorites.
Hans. Cracks me up every time.
Yes, I know this is a lame excuse for a post. You're lame.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
My mom has been waiting a few weeks for me to put up a video of Ben learning to... I'd say crawl, but it wasn't really crawling. See for yourself...
I know I'm very loud in both of these, but he was my first, and honestly, isn't he just the cutest little guy? Gosh, he was cute. I watched a whole bunch of videos of him at this age while I was looking for these ones and... He was just so cute.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Well, here it is. I've been working on it for a few days now, ever since Melissa posted hers. I usually do this over in my sidebar for Glen and whoever has me in the Christmas box, but since it's NaBloPoMo, and since Melissa suggested it, here it is.
My Christmas Wish List:
First of all, I need this. But I'll settle for this one if I have to, since it's about $200.00 cheaper. So... Sigh. Yes, I can definitely settle for the second one, even though the first one would be better. This lens will allow me to take clearer pictures in low light without a flash, and you know how I hate using a flash, so... I need it. Real bad. (But my lips hurt real bad!) (Star to whoever knows what movie that's from.) (Unless you're Ang. Or Glen.) (Then no star.) I would like it before Christmas though, which is a bit of a problem I guess. The reason I'd like it before Christmas is so that I can take our Christmas photos using it. Pretty please?
Unlike Melissa, most of my "plans" would involve laying around sleeping and watching movies so I would definitely need to have a place all to myself, and not necessarily a vehicle. Also, I'd like to point out that almost all of the above gifts would totally come in useful if you got me this gift. And if it's important to you, I could probably work in the scarf set and the lens if I had to. Think about it. Talk to someone about it. Do something about it.
Friday, November 13, 2009
I was supposed to get back from my trip to Seattle yesterday. I wish with everything inside of me that there was a way to fix this so that I could have gone on that trip. I wish he was still here. I wish it a hundred times a day, and today even more than usual. (Don't ask why.)
Last night I spent an hour or so reading some of Dad's blog posts so I could "hear" him talk.
What I really want is to call him on the phone. I want to ask him things. And tell him things. Why can't there be a phone to heaven? Ben thought there was. A little while ago he asked if he could call Grampa because he had something to tell him about some car or something. It broke my heart to have to tell him we couldn't talk to Grampa anymore. Partly because I want to really REALLY badly.
I want to ask him if he knew he was dying. I know he knew sort of, but I want to know if he knew. And if he was scared. I don't think he was, but I want him to tell me that he wasn't. I want him to tell me he could hear us, hear me singing, feel us holding his hands and stroking his hair. I think he could. But I want him to tell me he could, and that it made him feel better. I want him to tell me what it's like up there and how it was to see his dad again, and what Johnny and Melissa's babies are like. I want him to tell me that he's happy and okay and that everything that hurt is better now and that he understands why it had to be this way. I want him to tell me that because I'm not happy and okay, and I don't understand, and I want to know that someday I will. I think I will, but I want him to tell me that.
And I want to tell him that Hannah is crawling now. And that Sam's new word is "woffy" which seems to mean something along the lines of wobbly/big/little/squishy/tall/short/soft/hard/hot/cold/yucky/weird/strange. And that Ben wants to go to the ocean so that he can go fishing on a boat. And that I'm okay, but that I miss him so much that I physically ache sometimes. I want him to crack some joke to make me laugh, and I want him to make fun of how often I cry, so it won't seem so bad... So it won't feel like this huge consuming hole is more real than he is.
Because sometimes I feel it sucking me in. And I feel like as soon as I let myself get close to the center of my pain its strength, like gravity, will pull me down and I won't be able to break free of it. And I'm tired of struggling against it, but I'm scared of what's down there.
And I hate that there's no way to fix this. For any of us. But a phone call, a phone call would help.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I'm going to need to install our baby gates and put up the cupboard doors like... Yesterday. I showed her how to move her hands like this about a half hour before I shot this video. I'm estimating that by the end of this weekend she will have crawling completely down. I wonder when she'll figure out how to sit? Or if she'll ever bother?
Seven months people. Just barely. I have to say, the speed this baby is learning things makes me very nervous.
I'm supposed to post this over on The John Braun Page, and I will, but I love it so much I'm going to post it here first. For those of you who don't know the guy in this video, this is my uncle David. I just call him Doft, because that's what I've always called him. He is only a few months older than me and grew up with us, so even though he's my dad's brother, he feels more like my brother than my uncle. I ♥ him.
Anyways. He wrote this song for Dad. And it's so beautiful. Have a listen.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Well, this won't be anything mind-blowing. All I'm going to be able to manage is a newsy pictury post. I know you're jazzed, don't try and hide it.
Yesterday we skipped town and headed for the big city of Regina for a bit of R and R. We stayed at a nice hotel, took the kids to Toys R Us, and even subjected ourselves to a few hours of Chuckee Cheese. Good times were had by all. Here's the evidence:
The picture makes it look like he's in shallow water touching the bottom, but he's actually in the deep end! This is why I love hotel pools... They are small enough and usually empty enough that our kids always seem to make rapid leaps in confidence and ability in the water! I'm so proud of my little life-jacket guy, "swimming" all by himself!
Oh man, if there is one thing I love about this girl it's this smile... Of course, there are about a hundred things, and actually I could never pick just one.
And this one... Just because she is just so durned cute!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I'm a pretty sentimental person. This is why I take pictures of EVERYTHING. I do. I especially like to take pictures of firsts. First time Gramma held you. First day of school. First bath. First time in the big bath. First bubble bath. First time on the swing. First present. First boat ride. First plane ride. First bike ride. First mail. First bus ride. First pickle. First craft. First slurpie. First time swimming. All of it, and then some.
Since Dad left I've been overwhelmed with firsts. First time we all went out for dinner without him. First time I went to Canadian tire since he died. First time I drove to Martensville. First time I watched Corner Gas. First time I went into an underground parkade since the one at the hospital in Seattle when I left him behind. You wouldn't believe how many firsts. Every time I turn around there's something I have to do for the first time, knowing he's not here.
I still haven't gone in his garage. That will be a hard one for me.
That's all for me. We're in Regina for a mini-vacation staying in a nice hotel. This is the first time I've been here since Dad died. The last time I was here I stayed at my friend Ang's the night before my flight to Seattle. I was scared, but hoping and praying and begging for Dad to get better while I visited him. It's harder to be here than I thought it would be. It was hard to drive on the highway today thinking back to the last time I was on it. I suppose that's why the firsts are so hard, because they remind me of the lasts.
Monday, November 09, 2009
It's not a good day. It's hard to know what to write on a day like this. But I have this idea I've been meaning to put out there for all of you, and today seems appropriate.
I've been thinking about The John Braun Page. It's a little depressing to me that it, all of it, ends with the funeral. I was thinking... It would be nice to have some posts on there from all of us. Posts saying goodbye, or telling a funny story, or sharing who Dad was to each of us. I would like that. So I'm hoping that people will send me their "tributes" and I can post them. Don't let the word "tribute" weigh you down though. Maybe all you have are some song lyrics. Whatever. If you'd like to say it, I'd like to post it.
(You can send your post to my email address, (firstname.lastname@example.org) or as a message on facebook, and I'll put it up on the page.)
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Back before Dr. Phil went all Jerry Springer, I watched this show where we was helping a woman who could not "move on" after her daughter died. I don't remember much more about the episode other than him telling her, "The depth, breadth, and longevity of your grief are not a reflection of how much you cared about the person."
Huh. That made way more sense to me when I heard it the first time.
Usually I am pretty sad. Usually, if I let myself think at all, I cry. But I'm finding more and more that I can push away the grief when I want to. I can even hold it together through things like cancer commercials, "The official sponsor of birthdays," and finding his reading glasses in the garage... More and more.
Which is heart wrenching. It's very painful to discover that losing someone isn't as painful as it first was. So days when it doesn't hurt so much... End up hurting just as much, if that makes any sense. Which I suppose, it doesn't have to.
Tomorrow it will be one month that he has been gone. One whole month. It feels like nothing and like forever. It feels like having him was a dream, and like not having him now is a dream. I look at pictures and videos and I can't work out in my heart which part is real. They can't both be real. I can't have had everything that he was to me and lost it. That can't be. So my heart tries to pick only one to be real. Which one though? The having? Or not having? Both? How can that be? How did this happen? How did this happen? How? I can't understand.
So I brush it aside and it doesn't hurt so much. And that hurts.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
I gave Sam and Ben spikey hair when I shampooed their hair today. Ben's spikes didn't even last long enough for me to get the mirror. He's very conservative, and he likes his hair "smooth" so he patted it down before I could show him how he looked. Sam, on the other hand laughed like crazy when he saw himself and made these pleased noises that he makes when he's really happy about something. Then he cried when I rinsed out the shampoo.
So afterward I broke out the gel and here is the result:
He says this is how he always wants his hair now. "Very spikey." I like it too. I think it suits his personality. If only his name was Micah...
In other news, today was Hannah's seven month birthday. Head on over to her blog for some pictures of our celebration. I'll try and get up the video footage tonight too, or for sure by tomorrow.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Amy and her girls are stopping by our house tonight, so I won't have time to write later. Lucky for me, my new blogging friend Crystal reminded me of this story. Go listen to it, but maybe skip the first bit and start listening about eleven minutes in. And if you have a really short attention span then start listening at around seventeen or eighteen minutes. Trust me on this, you won't regret it. Good stuff. My dad used to love listening to the vinyl cafe, and this is one is one of my favorites. I'll have to find the tool one or the one about the jock strap and post them later. I think those were two of his favorites...
But for now listen to this one. And enjoy. :)
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
You are a sweet boy. And your Mommy is sorry.
Today, while Hannah was napping, I put some Toopy and Binoo on for you and went upstairs to lie down for a while. It wasn't five minutes before you were calling for me. "Sammy! Be quiet! Hannah is sleeping." You called me again. "Sammy! That's enough! Watch your show! Shhhhhhhh!" And one more time you called me. "If you want something then come here!"
"Well then, be quiet and watch your show!"
And you, sweet boy, were quiet.
After twenty minutes or so I got up to use the washroom and as I walked down the hallway you saw me and started crying again. With another "Shhhhhh!" ready on my lips I looked down the stairs and saw this:
Stuck. In Hannah's chair.
"Sammy! Why didn't you tell me you were stuck?"
"Because you said shhhhhhh!"
So Mommy is sorry. I should have come to see what you wanted when you said you couldn't come and tell me, but in my defense you do say you can't do things all the time when we both know you can! But I am sorry. I'm also sorry for laughing at you and taking your picture before I let you out.
So someday, when you're older, and I won't let you go on a sleepover because it's a school night, or I won't drive you and your buddies to the movies, you read this letter back to me and tell me that I owe you one. Okay?
Mommy loves you my good sweet little boy!
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
I'm not supposed to be looking at my computer screen right now.
I'm supposed to be on a plane flying to Seattle. Ben is supposed to be on the seat beside me looking out the window as we take off from Vancouver. I'm supposed to be pointing out boats and islands as they pass beneath the plane. Hannah is supposed to be on my lap sleeping in an outfit I picked out just for Mom and Dad. There are supposed to be presents from home for them in my suitcase. Dad and Mom are supposed to be excited to see two of their grandkids again. Mom is supposed to have the key to the apartment I was supposed to stay in on the floor below them, and she's supposed to be fussing over Dad and trying to think of things to tempt his appetite, but be kind to his kidneys. She's supposed to be planning supper for all of us. I'm supposed to be excited and happy to hug my Dad in just over an hour. Dad is supposed to be alive and getting better with a whole week of being together in front of us.
This is not how it's supposed to be. Last night and today have been hard for me. I'll be glad when the trip I was supposed to have gone on is over next week.
My mom's getting a puppy though. I don't like pets very much anymore, but I've always loved beagles and I'm super excited about meeting "Frank".
Monday, November 02, 2009
I sit and stare
At that spot there
You sat with my...
Your little guy
And when I'm there
I look just where
You watched TV...
On the floor iced tea
And that place where
You could repair
Tools all around...
But now no sound
And if I dare
I look at where
Your life made mine...
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Should I? Or shouldn't I?
I have a lot to say right now, which is a good argument for should. However, most of what I have to say is depressing, which is a pretty good argument for shouldn't.
It's not like I'm forcing anyone to read this though.
I figure I can start, and if it turns out to be too wearing on me, (another argument for shouldn't) then I'll just quit. If I don't start today, and then I decide I want to tomorrow, it'll be too late.
... So here goes...
Today I went to church for the first time since Dad died. I've been dreading it. Dealing with other people's feelings is incredibly... Overwhelming? Tiring? Hurtful? It's strange, because I know people only want to help, but hurtful really is a very accurate word. I'll tell you why.
I've already mentioned that Dad's death feels very unreal to me. Talking to other people about it makes it more real and more painful. That's the easy answer, but it's not the the only one, or even the main one.
I'd substitute painful for hurtful, but that would take away the implication that what people say hurts me, not just the fact that talking to them causes me to have to face what happened.
"How are you?" What a question. What a horrible and hurtful question. Yes, I know. They only ask because they care, but it just really is a terrible thing to ask someone not even a month after they've lost someone. Here's why.
Some people ask it casually. Just like they always do in casual conversations with people whose Dad didn't die a few weeks ago. They are expecting me to say "fine" like I always do. Which hurts.
That's the easy answer, but not the only one, or even the main one.
Other people ask it intentionally. They really want to know. They look deep into my deliberately blank eyes and ask me and then wait expectantly for me to tell burst into tears and tell them. Because they care. They really do. But seriously, what am I really going to say?
Am I really supposed to tell them that I cry every time I'm alone for longer than five minutes? That I'm so angry with God that we are not on speaking terms, and that just being at church where we prayed for Dad every Sunday is making me even angrier? That I can't sleep because as soon as I stop distracting myself I think of my Dad, my awesome amazing Dad and his picture in the obituary section, and I feel sick and scared and torn to shreds so I end up staying up all night till I'm so exhausted I literally can't stay awake a second longer? Am I really supposed to say this during greeting time at church? Or in the parking lot in front of Walmart? Or in the hallway of Ben's school? Or even if you "just pop by" my house to see how I'm doing? Am I really supposed to bare my soul to everyone who asks?
How are you.
So do you know what I've been saying? I say, "Okay!" And I smile. And then they ask, "Really?" And I say with a blank look on my face, "Yup! I'm okay." And I change the subject or wander off and afterward, when I'm alone, I cry because I feel like I just spit on my dad's grave. I feel like by lying about how I'm doing, I'm betraying my dad's memory and what he was to me.
But really, what else am I supposed to say? I can't say the truth. Well, maybe I can, but I won't. I suppose I should just say what my mom says, which is "That's a really hard question for me to answer." I just worry that I would only be inviting more prodding. More questions that I don't want to answer just anywhere and with just anyone.
So the question is, what do you say to someone like me if you can't say, "How are you?" I've always wondered that. I've always struggled with what to say to people I've known who have lost someone close to them.
My best answer? Nothing really. The people who have comforted me the most haven't said much of anything. They say hi, and they touch my arm, or hug me, and they maybe tell me they love me and they're praying for me. A few of them have even been teary eyed, which is at times difficult for me if I'm trying to hold it together myself, but the most comforting people aren't expecting anything from me. They don't ask with words, or even with their eyes (you know the look I'm thinking of) for me to bare my soul. They aren't waiting for me to burst into tears and share all the details of my pain. They aren't expecting to make it better for me, or for me to make it better for them.
It's hard though. And I just have to accept that. This is hard. For all of us. Every day I think, "This wasn't supposed to happen." But it did. And it's so hard. I just want it to be easier, but maybe that's expecting too much at this point. Maybe if all the people around me did what I wanted and cut out all the drama, maybe I'd be upset because I'd feel like they didn't care? Maybe there really is no way to make this easier. I suppose that's a possibility.
So I need to just walk through this part as best I can, and keep reminding myself that people aren't hurting me on purpose. And soon they'll get all the questions out of their systems and I can go out in public a little easier. And maybe instead of "okay" I should just tell people I'd rather not talk about it. Because that was a mistake. Actually, now that I'm writing this I'm thinking that it wasn't the question that hurt me so much as my answer. So maybe I should substitute "hurtful" with "painful".
Done. Being in public is painful.
(Huh. Too bad it took a whole post for me to figure that out hey? I wouldn't have spoiled yet another batch of shrimp in Café World while I wrote, and you could have watched some TV, or played some Nintendo, or done the dishes, or gone to the store or whatever else you've been putting off while you read. Maybe you only skimmed though, so that's okay, and even if you didn't, reading is way faster than writing.)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
It's Halloween and that means it's Jack O'Lantern time. But, since there were no pumpkins to be had ANYWHERE in Yorkton today, unless I stole them already carved from people's front yards, we had to improvise. And it was FUN!
First we cleaned out some old milk jugs, and the boys used markers to draw faces on them. (Glen and I each did one too.) Then I carved them just the same as I would a pumpkin. Except less messy. And way faster. And actually way easier, so not like pumpkins at all really. I used an exacto-knife to start the cuts and scissors to finish.Then we painted them using sponges and acrylic folk paint. I cut a hole in the bottoms and painted the insides with a lighter orange, so they would glow more like real pumpkins when they were lit. I had considered using, and purchased, tissue paper and glue, but the paint worked so well we didn't even try it.
(You may have noticed the boys are wearing their clothes inside out. That was a comprimise, they wouldn't go for my suggestion to paint in their undies, and I don't care that much if they stain the insides of their clothes.)
Then I took a permanent marker and outlined the faces again and stuck some tiny flashlights from the Dollar Store inside the tops. Easy! And awesome, don't you think?
Next year I'll be sure to get our pumpkins early so we can do some traditional Jack O'Lanterns, but I think we might make some more milk Jug O'Lanterns and line the driveway with them over top of Christmas lights. AND I think we'll leave some white and make little ghosts too. (We wouldn't need to paint them or cut them out or anything! All we'd need are some jugs and some black markers!)
Don't you just love when an idea works out even better than you'd hoped it would? I do.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
I didn't dress up Ben and Sam for their first Halloweens. I wasn't going to dress up Hannah either but two things changed my mind:
- She's a girl. And this will likely be my only chance to dress up a teeny tiny little girl baby in a teeny tiny little girly costume. Next year she will be a toddler. It's just not the same.
- Making a Halloween costume from scratch takes a lot of time and is very distracting. It is especially good if you don't have a pattern or a solid plan when you start, because then that time of night when you lay in bed with nothing to do but think is taken up with planning how to attach things and stuff.
And a bonus picture of my adorable niece Abigail looking adorable. (Becky, that flower barrette is from you.) (I can hardly wait till Hannah has that much hair.)