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.

Keeping It Real

We were driving home today from a family reunion and drove past the cemetery where Rocky is buried.  My daughter wanted to stop.  So I turned around and went to the grave.  The six of us sat down around the grave and talked.  The children shared their memories of the day he died.  It was a movie moment.  We were talking so plainly, just remembering.  After some time, three of the boys wandered off to play on a dirt pile at the cemetery.  They can only handle so much emotion.  Phoebe, Samuel and I kept talking.  Samuel shared that he was upset with me for not having Ms. Colleen bring them to the hospital.  I told him it was not a good place for children.  He told me that it was a wrong decision and that he wished he was there.  As I shared that I was overwhelmed and burdened with so many decisions at that time and did the best I could, he just listened.  I shared mistakes I felt I made.  That I wish I had different people there when they were told.  I shared how hard it was.  I told them the breathing tube was in his mouth and it was not a pretty sight.  I told them there were nurses everywhere.  I asked them to forgive me for mistakes I made.  I did my best.  There is no perfect way to handle a situation and I did my best. 

 

As I reflect, the most important part of that conversation was that they asked questions.  They shared their thoughts.  They talked to me.   The ones that walked away to play are the ones struggling the most.  They don’t talk about it.  I think the twins don’t remember a lot of details but Micah.  I don’t know.  He doesn’t want to talk, never was a talker even when Rocky was alive.  He is the one hurting.  It is inside and he won’t let it out.  I pray that we keep talking and he keeps hearing us and one day, hopefully soon, he finds the release that he needs. It needs to happen.

 

I am thankful that we continue to talk.  I am thankful that we love each other.  I am thankful that we are still processing and growing.  I am thankful for my family.

Its a Private Life

I have been insanely skeptical of Facebook since Rocky died.

It started with the fact that Facebook was burning up with the news before my children were even told.  I have researched and know the first person who posted it.  And the second for that matter.  They were out of line.  I remember being in the hospital and seeing and hearing about all the posts.  I had asked how all the people who showed up at the hospital knew what was going on.  I was told Facebook.  Well meaning people making my business public before I was ready.  That evening, my principal called and wanted to know how I wanted to tell the staff.  My response, "They already know, it is all over Facebook".  She said that made her sad.  Me too.

Then, I received over 50 friend requests within 24 hours of his death.  I called these people my Facebook voyeurs.  Most of whom are still sitting in my friend request page.  I didn't become their friends.  If we weren't friends before my life became so interesting why do they want to be my friends now?

Then, the "friends".  The people on my page.  The ones who claimed what a great friend I was and how heartbroken they were.  Some of these people I really didn't know.  About 6 months later, I deleted a lot of these "friends".  At this point, no one commented to me anymore until I posted something.  Anything.  Then they all piped in again and it confused me.  I am alone, sinking, lost, and confused.  These people publicly claimed to care.  I got angry.  I stopped posting.  If you cared you would call.  If you cared, you would ask how I was.  If you cared, you would greet me Sunday morning.  If you cared......you would do anything but wait for a Facebook post to respond to. 

Facebook is not real.  Facebook has nothing to do with friends.  Facebook is shallow.  Facebook is where you can know what is going on (only in a way that people allow) and you feel in the loop.  Facebook is anything but social.

This is why I do not wish happy birthday on Facebook.  If I don't know you well enough to have your number and send you a text or give you a call, I am not clouding your wall.  Maybe I am wrong, but it is the decision I made.

I am not giving the voyeurs a glimpse into my children's world.  If they cared, they would ask.  I am doing my best to preserve my children and the life we have to live.  It is hard and it is not charming.  I can't paint it in a rainbows and unicorns way that is the Facebook status quo.  Our lives are messy.  Our lives are real.

OK, so why am I still on Facebook?  I ask myself that question every day.  I am not sure.  I think it is an addiction.  I think the fleshly side of me feels I will miss something.  I struggle with it.  It makes me judge.  It makes me mad.  It makes me question people. 

One day I will be strong enough to leave it.  Maybe.

Just Five Words

As a family we were preparing for a day at the beach.  My thoughts were a few hours in the ocean and then hit the boardwalk.  Sound great, right.  Somehow, getting out the door something went terribly wrong.  It started with me.

As we are loading the car the kids inform me that they don't want to go in the ocean.  I want to sit on the beach.  So I did what any self respecting mother would do and had an adult temper tantrum.  It was the beach but also, my son was talking to a neighbor just a few minutes before.  This particular neighbor is fairly clueless to my life and as a result has said some insanely hurtful and insensitive things to me.  So, needless to say my kids shouldn't talk with someone who I have issues with, right?  I know, so two instances that reveal the maturity level of my day.  Not my finest moments but hold on.  I would not just write about that.  Although these things are petty, they set off a rant from me unparalleled to any madness I had previously displayed.  I completely lost it.

I went off on me to my children.  I told them how insecure I was about my weight, my future, my life.  I went on about how lonely I was and how angry I was that I had to parent them alone.  I went off on how impossible I was finding each day to be.  I told them how insecure I am in my relationships and how I feel let down and abandoned by everyone in my life.  I went off.  Not a quiet dissertation on all that is wrong with me.  A screaming, cussing, over the top rant.  Of course I had to add how messy their rooms were and why are there still bike parts on the yard (relevant, right?).  It was madness.  I own that.

Like the wise children that they are, they scattered.  It made me angry at the time, but really they were utilizing strategies I had taught them when madness strikes.  Finally, after a few breaths and inner questioning about what had just happened, my son rides his bike back up the driveway.  I asked where he went and why he rode off.  His response was just five words.

I was mad at you.

Those words were delivered with tears in his eyes.  Those words were delivered straight to my heart.  Those words said more to me than anyone can possibly imagine.

First, my son could see through all I said and eloquently and directly deliver his feeling back.  Wow.

Second, what he said was so much more.  He said, mom we need you.  We depend on you for our strength and what are we supposed to do when you don't believe in yourself.  He said, mom we believe in you.  He said mom, you are loved.  You are special and the moment you feel lonely or desperate remember us.  He said, remember the ones that do care.  The ones that have come to our rescue.  He said you are child of God and he has never left you.  He reminded me to appreciate the moment we were in and live it the best way possible.  He said, you are our mom and that makes you everything to us.

Ok, adequately humbled.  I called the people from their hiding places and had them hold hands in a circle.  Some didn't want to touch others but I held it together.  I apologized and told them I made a major mommy mistake (not the first and I am sure not the last).  We prayed that God would restore peace and happiness to our home.

Then, we left for the beach.  We played in the waves, ate Thrashers and Dumsers (the only proper dinner after such a mommy snafu), we rode rides and we laughed.  Just five words spoke to my soul.  No guarantee that I will never again walk off the ledge, but I have a family that loves me unconditionally.  I have a God that loves me even more.  Just Five Words and a total perspective shift.  I was mad at you.

Revelation

My husband is dead.  I know, you already know this, but would you believe that even after almost 17 months I still wake up some days with this revelation.  Some days it is like a new realization.  Some days, I think it and remind myself that I got this.  Some days, I think it and God tells me we got this.  Some days, I feel like I am drowning in the Hudson River with weights tied to my feet (to many movies, I know).  I remind myself of how far we have come.  I remind myself of the things I have accomplished that I never would have dreamed.  Some days I remember all the decisions yet to make.  Some days it is new.  Some days it is not.  Everyday it is my reality.

If you need me

After Rocky died, people had the best of intentions.  They said, "call me if you need anything".  They meant it.  Many had a need to emphasize how much they meant it.  Saying that they know everyone says it but they are the real deal.  I can't even begin to tell you how many people professed to be the real deal. 

Then, there was another group of people.  These said I know you are strong and fairly private so you will let me know when you want me to step in.  These are the people who knew me better and knew just how stubborn I could be.  They used my personality as their out.  At least that's how I see it.  Oh, she is strong.  She has this.  She will let us know what to do.  She wouldn't want me to interfere.  I don't want to make her angry or step on her toes.  I will just wait in the wings until she tells me she needs something.  To be honest, what a cop out!

Here is the analogy.

You are on a boat in the ocean and someone falls overboard.  You know this person knows how to swim so you just watch.  The boat is moving farther away.  You yell to the person.  "Hey, if you think you need a life ring just let me know.  I am right here ready to throw it as soon as you say so."  Does that make sense?  Absolutely not.  You see the person struggle but you watch and wait.  You don't call for help or send the life ring, you are watching them sink.  I don't think I know a single person who would not immediately call for help and throw the ring. 

So why is it when we are drowning in life, no one throws the ring.  The person in the water is panicked.  The person in the water is giving every ounce of their effort to just stay floating above water.  The person sinking is scared.  For the love of God, throw the life ring.  Be the support. 

Lip service is just that.  Be willing to jump in if necessary.

Summer

Well, summer is almost here.  If you know anything about me, you know I cherish summer.  Time with my family to focus on the ones I love.  To enjoy lazy days and find great adventures.  To remember all that matters.  To refuel for the job I have been called to do 10 months out of the year.  To sleep.  To laugh.  To be incredibly spontaneous.  I love hiking, the beach, the river, bike riding and long walks.

Last summer, the first day of summer was torture.  It was the day I realized Rocky was really gone.  I know June is several months past February, but I had gone into survival mode and hadn't processed my reality.  You see, all the fun things I did were done as a family.  Rocky always behind the wheel guiding us into some great adventure.  I remember walking out to the shed and falling on the floor.  I was there for hours.  I remember sitting in his truck and remembering.  I remember moving to his van and remembering.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  It was real.  There was no schedule to keep me busy, no papers to grade.  Just my reality.  It had been there all along but I was choosing to ignore it.  Summer......it came crashing down all around me.

Then I remembered that I did not die on February 25.  My life was altered forever, sure. My kids had a new lens on life, absolutely.  We had to find a new way to happiness.  We did.  We made new memories.  We went on different types of adventures.  We lived.  As the summer approaches I remember this .  It would be easy to fall into a victim status.  It would be easy to get lost in despair.  I refuse.  I can feel the tug, but I refuse to give in.  I choose life.  I want to continue to live the life that Rocky would have wanted for us.  So, this summer.....watch out.  The Klaverweiden's are living!