Feels Good to be Back

Hey there.  So two things brought me back to this place.

The first, one day when my daughter was playing online she found this blog.  She loved it.  She was so happy to see my thoughts and feelings.  She shared it with her siblings who were equally grateful.  That made the think of all the things that have happened along the way to bring us to this place of being ok to reflect.  I may share some back stories or perhaps just move forward.  At the time I was doing something therapeutic for me, but now I see it is a gift that keeps on giving.

Second, I have a friend walking in similar shoes.  She is a friend of sorts.  More of an acquaintance through our firstborns.  Like me, she is not a young mom but a mom of young children.  Like me, a heart attack changed her forever and her children's life stories.  Like me, she doesn't have many local to rally for her and will be depending on the understanding and generosity of others.  I am trying to help her navigate, while respecting that this is her journey and one day her story to tell.  In doing those things, I found myself back here reading.  And crying.  Remembering and being so thankful for where we are now.

I will never say it is easy since that would just be a lie, but I will say that I am learning to trust myself more.  I have found the people who love me for me.  I have cut off a lot of people that became baggage I didn't need to lug around.  I have come to peace with God and know that one day I will be reunited with Rocky and will either not care anymore or will get the answers, either one is ok with me.  I am proud of my kids and who each one is becoming.  I am accepting that we are all growing the way we are supposed to (not that this pre-teen/teen thing isn't crazy).  I am getting to know me again.  What I like, what my dream are and I am kinda liking me.  I am a pretty cool person to hang around if I do say so myself:)  If you don't agree, I am ok with that too...….see all that progress?  Anyway, I will share the journey more.  For my kids.  For anyone that cares.  For me.

Feels good to be back!

Telling the Kids

So all I can think about at the hospital is how am I going to tell the kids.  I decided that I did not want to be alone.  I asked Jonathan Blackmon, the children’s pastor and Ron Douglas, the Royal Ranger Commander to be with me.  We came up with a plan to have the kids meet us at the house.  When I arrived at the house, there were lots of people there.  I remember having to ask them to leave.  Some I’m not sure I even knew.

It was probably 7:00 at night.  The kids had been picked up from school by a friend and had no idea what was going on.  I paced around the house trying to find the best location to tell them.  Does location even matter?  In my mind, somehow it did.  I ended up choosing the dinner room table.  The kids came in.  They could sense something was very wrong.   How do I speak?  Oh Holy Spirit give me the words.  We sat down and they all looked at me.  Jonathan and Ron were around the table too.  I don’t remember my exact words but I remember being fairly direct.  Something like

Your father had a heart attack.  He loved you very much but I am sorry.  He did not make it.  Your father is dead.

Let that sit there a minute.

Your father is dead.

What else can you say?  What can you do?  What a blow.  Flashback to the day Mrs. Engle, my parent’s friend, picked me up at work and told me that my father was dead.  Time stops.  Is it real?

Back to the present……How do I help them?  Who is going to help me?  What are we going to do next?

• Samuel immediately began to cry and Ron began speaking to him.

• Micah zipped his jacket up over his head and sat in silence.

• Phoebe ran to her room crying.

• Lucas crawled under the table.  Probably not understanding but knowing this was big.

• Isaiah sat at the table, looked around and began crying.  His tears, I believe, were more about the tears his siblings were crying than the news itself.  Only 5.  So young.
• I sat there, feeling completely hopeless.  Numb.  Telling them made it more read than seeing him in the hospital.  This was the reality of it.  This is the path being laid before me.  Jesus help me.

We tried to comfort them.  We told them their dad loved them.  We told them God had us.  We told them so many things.  Honestly, there is nothing to say.  That moment in time was the single hardest thing I have ever experienced.  I lost my husband.  They lost their daddy.  The ball coach.  Their Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy.  They lost their dreams.  They lost something so special that it can never be replaced.  How am I going to do this?  How will I raise them alone?

I knew then that I would do whatever I needed to make my kids’ lives happy.  This kind of pain is unfair.  This future isn’t fair.  Who will walk Phoebe down the aisle?  Who will intimidate the dates?  Who will love them like he did?  He was a father that gave it all for his kids.  Lord, I pray they know this.  Above all, they were so loved by their daddy.

Every Minute Counts

Mornings happen.  Every single day.  Some days we get to sleep in and take mornings slowly.  Most mornings we hit the ground running.

I have been feeling a lot of stress lately.  Back hurting, brain spinning, over the top stress.  Nothing specific, yet everything stresses me out.

I guess it is the 5 kid thing.  It is hard.

My Phoebe has been trying really hard lately to de stress me.  Lots of hugs, kisses and words of affirmation are coming from her.  I am sure it is the calm before the teenage storm, but I’ll take it.

This morning, like every morning.  Everything is happening at once.  In the midst of it, Phoebe comes and says, “Do you have time to braid my hair?”

What!?  No, do you see the chaos abounding.  Her sweet smile.  Of course, we have 7 minutes until we have to pull out.  I can do this!

We are in the bathroom.  I am braiding.  Two minutes in and the yelling starts.  I hear a “stop it”, a “shut up” and crying.  I continue braiding.  I try to tune it out.  I feel the blood pressure rising.  I am going to finish this dang braid if it kills me.  They will not win!

3 minutes later, with 2 more to spare.  I finish the braid (not my best work but completion under pressure is important here).  I go out to address the other stuff happening.  I yell, I remind that no means no, I announce it is time to go.

Wait, where are my shoes?  My leg hurts.  So and so is being mean. 

Get in the car!!

We start driving.  I am practicing my breathing techniques.  I watch the clock.  If I make all the lights green, we might make it.

I watch the clock for the next 20 minutes for each drop off and pick up of children.  I am racing the clock.  Everyday… I race the clock.  Everyday… I lose the race.  Every minute counts in the morning.

Do I lose, or is it ok?  My boss is a saint who extends me so much grace, my daughter’s hair looks cute, my kids are all alive and well and off to learn.  When I calm myself and reflect……It is a good life.  I am blessed.

Just need my people to understand that in the morning things would go smoother if they just understood every minute counts.

It is a journey.  It is a challenge.  It is my life.  At the end of the day I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Two Years

So, here we are at two years post lost and I know one thing for sure; we did not die on this day two years ago.  A huge part of us did, but we are living.  Our living has taken new form.  Our day to day has changed.  Our routines have evolved.  We are living differently.  Our lens on the world has changed.  The people we depend on are new.  Much from the past was lost that day two years ago.  My children are left with a grand canyon of a hole in their lives.  All of the firsts to come that he will not experience, but they are living and will experience them non the less.  We have faced challenges and struggles we couldn't imagine.  They have become a part of us.  We have evolved.  If you stayed for the journey, you have seen the changes and we thank you for your patience with us.  To those that joined us along the way, we thank God for sending you.  For those who moved on, we understand and thank God you were once here.  In many ways we are lost and disconnected but we are working to figure it out.  The future is unknown.  We are heading boldly in its direction. We are living.  We know pain.  We know sorrow.  We know hope.  We know joy.  We are alive!

Happy New Year?

So, today is January first.  I have been reading peoples status on Facebook and wondered if I should write something.  Just like I always wonder if I should post things.  Who cares where I have been?  Who cares where I go?  Why do people feel a need to share?  Why do I struggle with sharing or not?  I wonder what peoples motives for sharing are?  What are my motives?  Why do I think so much?

Here are some thoughts......2015

Was it the worst year?  No
Was it the best year? No
Was it a roller coaster?  Yes........but I think that is true of every year for every one.  Why?  Life is a roller coaster.  It has its ups and downs and how we choose to live it or look at it is entirely up to us. We can let the ride terrify us or we can laugh at our own fears.  I think of the roller coaster I rode just the other night.  You go into this dark room and it stops.  You wonder, what is going on?  Then, the thing just drops.  I mean free fall straight down.  Before you know it you are flying on another track.  Isn't that how life is?  You fall onto another track and speed forward wondering what curves my lie ahead.  Just like on a roller coaster there are a few people traveling with you.  They yell to hold on and laugh with you at the fear of the whole thing. 

That sums up my year.  Many people tell me I am strong.  I am just holding on.  If they took time to talk to me they would know that I would really love to jump out of the long line just to get on the ride.  This year, few people have shown me that they will ride with me and yell to hold on.  Those people will wait in the line with me because they know I lack patience.  Those people know the hidden pains and damage.  Those people see the victories.  Those people are the ones I will resolve to invest in more this year.  I have learned that the greatest investment you can make is in the people who are willing to ride the coaster with you, no matter what lies ahead.  .

Happy New Year to my friends from the past, the present and those that will be sent to bless my future!

A great mom and a horrible dad

I was riding in the car with Micah.  It was one of those how in the heck do we do it kind of days.  I went to a training at work.  Left the training picked the kids up for dentist appointments, left there for counseling, dropped Phoebe off at the barn and was finally heading home.  Decided I was spent and stopped for some KFC for dinner.  If you ever go to KFC in Salisbury, you know it is the slowest fast food on the planet.  So we had plenty of time to wait.  In that time, the sheer exhaustion came out and I said that I was not doing this single parent thing very well.  Micah questioned me.  I went on one of my dialogues that I am not sure anyone listens to and more pitifully, I am not sure I care.  Eventually I made a proclamation.

I am not failing at parenting.
I am a really great mom.  I nurture, I love, I am there for my kids.
I am a terrible dad.  I can't follow through on punishments.  I am inconsistent.  I am not firm, but erratic.

Micah looked at me.  It was quiet for a minute as we both pondered what I had just said.  All of a sudden he is crying.  I am looking at him.  Whoa......this one never shows any emotion other than anger.  He says, "The last thing I said was I'll see you after school".  I said, "me too".  He then said something that hit me so deep down.  He said, "You and dad used to fight."  I told him that we did and that couples do that some times.  He told me that at one point he thought we were going to get divorced. 

I was speechless.

Rocky and I didn't fight often but when we did, we did it well.  And apparently loud.

Micah and I talked.  I told him that our move to Gumboro was really stressful.  I shared that I have had to deal with the stress the move put on our family at the time he died.  That it was something I had to process and deal with.  I told him that couples fight and I am so sorry that he ever thought we wouldn't stay together.  I told him that his father and I loved each other and were committed to make it work.  I told him that his father loved him.  And that I loved him very much.

He said, "Can you order tacos with that chicken?"  And like that the moment was gone and he had moved on.

Told you the KFC was slow.

I am thankful for that moment.  I am thankful that he shared.  I am thankful that I understand.

I am not a bad parent.  I am a great mom.  I am not so good at being dad.  I am learning to be both.

Remebering that day

I don't want to forget details so I am just going to remember that day.  February 25, 2014.  The day that altered my reality.

Like any other day.  We woke up and I and left for work.  Rocky would follow me into town about an hour later to take the kids to school.  My day was normal.  We actually, my students were on a field trip to Baltimore and I had a very casual, uneventful day at work.  The building was quiet and my work load was light.  It was towards the end of the day so I was in my planning time.  I get a phone call to come to the office.  My first thought, what have I done now?  Not that I get called to the principals office a lot but when the call does come to have to wonder why.  Is some parent complaining?  Did you open your big mouth again?  I get to the office and Bud Nichols, a friend, was in the office with the deputy.  They immediately wanted to take me somewhere we could talk.  Weird.  We go the deputy's office and Bud tells me that Rocky is in an ambulance on the way to PRMC.  I immediately say, "its his heart."  How did I know that?  Two days prior, we were finally emptying the attic of our house.  We have moved two months before (that is a whole different story).  When Rocky went to put a box on the trailer he paused and grabbed his chest.  I remember asking if he was Ok and he said he was fine.  That moment in the office with Bud I knew that that moment at the trailer was something more.  My mind raced thinking about my strong man sick in bed at the hospital with heart disease.  I began thinking about the kids and how I would manage with them during his recovery.  I wondered how long the recovery would be.  You see, this was the only thing I was thinking. 

Bud wouldn't let me drive myself to the hospital.  He said he was told to take me and I thought it was silly but knew he was following the directions of Colleen, his wife, and far be it from me to force a man to not follow the instructions given to him.  We get to the ER and Bud speaks for me that my husband is coming in an ambulance.  The woman looks at the screen and says he is on his way.  She was somber but I thought nothing of it.  In hindsight, I know her screen told her what was about to happen in my life.  The timing was crazy because Bud had to leave to pick up our children from school.  I asked him to take them home to his house so I could determine how sick my husband was and how I was going to proceed.  The women at the screen suggested I sit out with her and not go into the normal waiting room.  More hindsight, she didn't want me to be alone.  She knew.  After maybe ten minutes that seemed like an hour.  I was asked to come into the family room.  I didn't know that this was the place they took you to share bad news.  I gladly went still just wanted to see my husband.  I sat there alone for what felt like an eternity.  A nurse entered, an ER doctor entered, clergy entered.  They introduced themselves.  Note, if clergy ever comes in the family room, run like hell the outcome is not good.  So I was in this room with these three people .  The clergy sat behind me, the nurse next to me and the doctor in front of me.  You could feel the collective deep breath these people took.  It sucked the air right out of the room.  The doctor looked me in the eyes and I knew.  I told him not to speak, that if he didn't say it, it would not be real.  He said it.  Time stopped.  He said the people in the ambulance had been working on Rocky for almost an hour with no response.  He was sorry.  My first words, "the children".  Oh my god, what am I going to do.  This can't be real.  This isn't happening.  This can't possibly be my reality.  The clergy lady began to speak.  I immediately didn't like her.  Empty words.  Lies.  She told me the children would always remember their dad and he would live forever in them.  I told her she was a liar, the twins were only 5 and they would not remember.  I told her people forget details.  I told her I have forgotten a lot about my dad and I was a lot older than any of my kids when he died.  She learned to stop talking.  Thank God for that.

My friend Elaine, who we were currently renting from and Rocky was working her chicken houses, came into the room.  She held me.  I cried.  They finally let me go to Rocky.  At that point, Elaine took my phone and got to work.  She called Rocky's family.  She called my family.  She called the church. She took the drivers seat and I will be forever grateful for that. 

I was led into a room.  My husband lay on a gurney with the breathing apparatus still in his mouth.  The sheet was up on his chest.  He was pale.  The initial sight took my breath away and I fell to the floor.  This wasn't real.  This wasn't my life.  This couldn't possibly be my man lying here.  Dead.  It was.  A nurse lifted me up and brought a chair next to him so I could sit.  He was covered in feathers.  There were feathers everywhere.  If it wasn't so damn horrific it may have been funny.  All those feathers.  In his hair.  In that crazy beard he had grown.  I sat there and brushed the feathers out of his hair with my fingers.  I talked to him. 

People started coming. The first people to come back other than Elaine was my pastors.  They all came.  You see, this was so shocking that they all came.  Their reactions and responses so different.  Pastor Bill did a lot of pacing.  And he would run his hand through his hair.  I don't see him do that often and assume it is his internal stress reaction.  He would ask questions and pace some more.  Most of the answers I had to his questions were, I don't know.  What about insurance?  I don't know.  How are you going to handle the kids?  I don't know.  I don't know.  For the first time in my life, I knew nothing and had no clue what to do next.  It is those moments that I am thankful for him.  He turned to people and got things done.  He asked the right questions.  I didn't know.  Pastor Mark held me to his side and cried.  A steam of tears with no beginning and no end.  Tears and occasionally he would shake  his head in disbelief.  The stream of tears stuck to me the most.  It seemed never ending.  It was so profound.  Pastor Tab looked the most shocked.  He shook his head and wanted to say something to sooth me, knowing there was nothing to say.  So he didn't and that was ok.

Elaine brought Rocky's mom in the room.  I had moved back to give her space with her son.  At this moment my strong husband was her little boy.  She just stared.  Then she said, "I was supposed to die first".  So simple.  A mother doesn't plan to lose her child.  It is a given that she will die first.  Jay and Christine were both there with their mom.  They too looked shocked.  They were speechless.  There is really nothing to say.  No of us usually have nothing to say but in that moment, there were no words.  They didn't stay long.  I don't think Rocky's mom could handle looking at  him any longer.  I get that.  I was torn between looking away and never wanting to take my eyes off of him again.  What do you do? 

As time passed, more people came.  People from church, friends, Rocky's family.  I was just there.  I was numb.  People said things.  Don't ask me what.  Finally, Pastor Bill asked me if I wanted all these people there?  No.  He sent them away.  Thank God for that.

I knew right away I wanted an autopsy.  I had to know.  I was told not to request it but let them say they wanted it.  That way the state would pay for it.  Again, Pastor Bill took the lead.  As the representative from the medical examiners office came in and asked questions, Pastor Bill and everyone left the room.  It was her, Rocky and I alone now.  She was very pregnant and I couldn't help thinking about the circle of life.  I was losing the love of my life and she was carrying all of her dreams in her womb.  Crazy, huh?  She asked lots of questions and then left the room.  Eventually, she came back and said they were going to take Rocky to Baltimore to perform an autopsy.  It was what I wanted.  After that it was time for me to say goodbye and leave the room.  How do you walk away?  My feet became lead.  If I leave, it is over.  If I stay, I can remain in this state of confusion.  Confusion seemed the better choice.  I walked down the hall.  I left him there.  I was lost.

The children?  How do I tell the children?  That became the new focus.  Not today, I can't write any more.  That story will come.