"Can't go around it.....can't go under it.....can't go above it.....gotta go through it." That quote has been ringing in my mind for these last few days. It's a familiar tune, but I can't figure out where I know it or why all of a sudden it's been floating in my mind? Perhaps Chrissy is putting it in my mind for me to hear, reminding me of a childhood experience. It's a tune or jingle that we said as kids, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why we said it or when. Odd occurences have been happening, and I suppose I chalk it up to my sister telling me that she's still with me. I need those reminders these days, especially through the holidays. These times are so different for me as I try to live this life without Chrissy's physical presence. I find myself rambling about family gatherings, hoping she's right around the corner. Maybe we could touch base about the kids or talk about some drama that perhaps is going on? There is no drama, though, except for the fact that such a young soul is in spirit now, and her children are learning to live life without her, without a mother's presence.
As I mentioned, strange things have been falling. The other day, Marty was going off on something....I can't quite remember what, when my aunt, myself and me heard something fall inside our house. Marty's first words were, "I bet that's your sister telling me to forget about it." We all laughed, but we couldn't find the source of the fall, and it was loud. The next day, Marty called me over and said, "I found out what fell, but I can't believe it didn't break, and why is it over there?" The kids were all in bed when we heard the fall the night before, and on our floor in another room we didn't check, was a battery operated glass candle figure that people put in their windows during the holiday season. I used to have many, but over the years the kids have broken them very easily as they have a glass tip and are very fragile. The two candles I have remaining are on my cedar chest, far from the edge, and they were blocked by Christmas villages. We found this particular candle figure on the floor, about three feet away from where I place it, pointing to her baby photo that I have in a frame. The odd thing was is that it didn't break and how had it fallen way over there. They've fallen on window ledges and had broken very easily, but how did it move three feet and not break, and landed with it's tip pointing to my sister's baby picture? We have a Pergo type floor in this room....no carpet.....and it perplexes me. I can only say that it was her because I do believe in life beyond and our loved ones trying to contact us. I open my mind to those possibilities, and I hear the stories of others who have very similiar experiences. You, yourself, or acquaintances finding photos of your loved ones in very strange, faraway places. This may sound like a stretch to some people, but I believe these tangibles happen, and our loved ones are reassuring us that they are still present. If you feel that it's never happened to you, think again, and pay close attention. Marty's noticed these subtle signs lately, too, and he's very aware of sudden blinking lights as he drives under them, running into familiar faces or seeing familiar items that connect him to Chrissy.
During this holiday season, there's no getting around it. You have to go through it as we will every year, no matter how difficult. We'll each choose our own way on how we deal with it, our loss, missing my sister's smile, not having her with us in the physical sense. I wish this journey on no one, but if you are amongst us who grieve the loss of someone very close, take notice. There are signs present, but we have to think in those terms, the possibility of life beyond. We believe in science. We believe that the world is round when others said it was flat. We believe that energy is a power source, in microbiology and that atoms exist.....why not this? Why isn't it possible for our loved ones to reach us through these signs? If I'm going to have to go through it, feeling the loss of my dear sister, I'd rather go through it recognizing these subtle signs.
If you believe, know that all things are possible whether we can explain them or not.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas Presence
"Lord, help my heart be still." I passed a high school marquee today which said, "Your children want your presence more than your presents." This quote struck a chord with me as a mother and as a daughter. Not only thinking of myself today but of Frankie and Maria. I wonder what must be going through their minds, and how much they must be thinking of their mother, my sister, and missing her so. I know how much I think of her in my day to day routines, and I wish that her physical presence was still with us, but it's not. That is the part that is so difficult to bear day in and day out. My time with her on this earth was for 41 years, but her children spent such a short time with her, atleast in my thinking. She was a blessing to me, but still I feel that their time with her should have been more. How much will they remember? How much will they forget? I think of my own mom, whom I only had here on earth for 21 years, and I feel there is so much I never learned about her and never will. I long to know more, and I pick the brains of my family wanting more stories; yet, my mom is becoming a fading memory. I yearn to know and learn more as each year passes. Grieving a loved one so close does not become easier in time; we learn to live with the pain. That infamous quote, "Time heals all wounds" was created by someone who didn't experience much loss because it should have been written, "With time the wounds heal but the scars remain."
"Lord, help my heart be still." As Maria sleeps at our house tonight awaiting our family Christmas Eve celebration tomorrow night, a holiday tradition celebrated for more than 40 plus years in our family, I can feel the longing for her mother. We will gather at Susie's house and share foods and presents, but we all know that her presence is all we want. I still long to see my mother, even after all these years, twenty-four to be exact. I remember the moment when the doctors said that they tried but were unsuccessful....she had died. The heartache is always there, but you learn to deal with it. Life goes on, and we have to live it, right? That's what I keep telling myself, but some days I have to pray more to wake up and seize the day.
"Lord, help my heart be still." During our holiday gatherings, magic fills the air, but the scars remain. We move, we eat and drink, and yes, we do dance and sing sometimes, too, but the scars are always there. It's like the purple elephant in the room that no one talks about. We all miss her terribly. We want to ease the pain.....and still we don't talk about it. I pray with the deepest part of my heart, and I ask God to help me through. No doubt, I believe in a world beyond this one, but my heart is here, and it misses her with every beat. I miss our chats on the phone, her sudden outbursts when something irritates her, but most of all, I miss her supporting voice when I am weary and alone. She always brought me up when I was down. Sisters of the heart do that. For all those experiences, I am blessed. This I know.
"Lord, help my heart be still." As I prepare the house, baking cookies, wrapping the gifts, making way for Christmas gatherings, ironing clothes, shopping in the stores; I look up and see the skies whose colors speak to me. I feel the crisp winter air and smell the fireplaces burning; all the while reminiscing about my childhood holiday memories and feeling the Christmas presence. I haven't gotten lost in the presents of the season; rather, I hope and long for the Christmas presence, her presence, her spirit. Her spirit resides in me as do all my loved ones who have passed on to their new lives. The Christmas presence is key. Do you have it? On this eve before the eve of Christmas, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas Presence!
"Lord, help my heart be still, and see the glory of the Lord"
"Lord, help my heart be still." As Maria sleeps at our house tonight awaiting our family Christmas Eve celebration tomorrow night, a holiday tradition celebrated for more than 40 plus years in our family, I can feel the longing for her mother. We will gather at Susie's house and share foods and presents, but we all know that her presence is all we want. I still long to see my mother, even after all these years, twenty-four to be exact. I remember the moment when the doctors said that they tried but were unsuccessful....she had died. The heartache is always there, but you learn to deal with it. Life goes on, and we have to live it, right? That's what I keep telling myself, but some days I have to pray more to wake up and seize the day.
"Lord, help my heart be still." During our holiday gatherings, magic fills the air, but the scars remain. We move, we eat and drink, and yes, we do dance and sing sometimes, too, but the scars are always there. It's like the purple elephant in the room that no one talks about. We all miss her terribly. We want to ease the pain.....and still we don't talk about it. I pray with the deepest part of my heart, and I ask God to help me through. No doubt, I believe in a world beyond this one, but my heart is here, and it misses her with every beat. I miss our chats on the phone, her sudden outbursts when something irritates her, but most of all, I miss her supporting voice when I am weary and alone. She always brought me up when I was down. Sisters of the heart do that. For all those experiences, I am blessed. This I know.
"Lord, help my heart be still." As I prepare the house, baking cookies, wrapping the gifts, making way for Christmas gatherings, ironing clothes, shopping in the stores; I look up and see the skies whose colors speak to me. I feel the crisp winter air and smell the fireplaces burning; all the while reminiscing about my childhood holiday memories and feeling the Christmas presence. I haven't gotten lost in the presents of the season; rather, I hope and long for the Christmas presence, her presence, her spirit. Her spirit resides in me as do all my loved ones who have passed on to their new lives. The Christmas presence is key. Do you have it? On this eve before the eve of Christmas, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas Presence!
"Lord, help my heart be still, and see the glory of the Lord"
Friday, December 17, 2010
Snow Days
Snow days mean so many different things to all sorts of people. Some people awake earlier, knowing they have to dig their cars out and begin their day earlier if they are to get to work on time, competing with the traffic. Others scramble for sitters to watch their kids, as they travel to their jobs, fighting the cold. The rest of us eagerly await for that phone call, the phone call from beyond, the one that says, "School is canceled." Thursday, my kiddos were home from school because of all the beautiful ice. Yes, beautiful ice, why? Marty and I had the day off, too! That's one of the perks to working in education. We may not be at the top of the list as far as salaries go, but we have the perk of the snow day. The neighborhood streets where we live are treacherous during winter storms; thus, the snow day. Who doesn't like a snow day? You know what I'm talking about.......that warm, cozy feeling you get? That feeling upon hearing the telephone ring in the wee hours of the morning, sleet or snow pitter-pattering on your roof. On the other end of the line, you hear a familiar recorded voice of your superintendent canceling school. You feel yourself pulling the covers over your face, and no clocks are pulling you out of bed to get the children ready. This day there are no time commitments. Only pure self-indulgent glories of sleep, cookie making, movie watching and family time are in the day's plans. I wish I could tell you that I eagerly jump out of bed every morning, greeting the world with a smile, but I don't. I thank God for the day, but I pray that I win the lottery. If the lottery isn't an option; I'll take a snow day instead.
Snow days, I think of my dear friend and how one of her daughters loved them because mom, who was an educator, would be spending time home with them, baking cookies and playing board games. It wasn't getting out of school work that made her happy; rather, spending time with mom is what she loved the most. How sweet is that! I remember the day of dear Allison's memorial service. This young soul, who was taken to the heavens way too early, had an ice storm blanket the St. Louis area on the day we would celebrate her life. Although this was a day that parents were saying goodbye to their vibrant 21- year old daughter; they were greeted this day with glorious ice that was a favorite to Allison. I don't think any of us worried about arriving to the church on time, as it was her wish to show her presence through this treacherous weather, and the sun was beaming. I remember that the warmth was beaming through the icy crystals hanging from the buildings and trees. What a miracle that was to know that this weather was her favorite, and on her day where she would be honored and talked about; we would also talk of the ice, and how she loved it so.
Snow days, I think of my sissy calling me on the other end. Her perspective on snowy days was that of a mom, who had other plans in mind, and someone had just pulled the rug out from under her. "Why did they call off school??!" I would laugh on the other end, as Chrissy was not a winter soul. She loved her tropical weathers and ocean breezes. She couldn't stand layering the kids for the cold, snowy weathers as they would beg her to play in the snow. It wasn't all about movies, cookie baking and hot cocoa at her house. It involved more work. Her kids, like mine, wanted to head out into the COLD. That was the last place she wanted to be, and in her defense, I am not a cold weather girl either. So I would just laugh at her because of her funny tones and groans; knowing full well what awaited her that day. So I had to laugh yesterday morning when Frank called me with the same question: "Why are the kids off???" I don't know if he knew, but I was smiling on the other end. On this snow day, I thought of how she would usually call and complain. It wasn't her that called, but her soul mate.......how funny is that?
Happy Snow Day, my friend.......Happy Snow Day!
Snow days, I think of my dear friend and how one of her daughters loved them because mom, who was an educator, would be spending time home with them, baking cookies and playing board games. It wasn't getting out of school work that made her happy; rather, spending time with mom is what she loved the most. How sweet is that! I remember the day of dear Allison's memorial service. This young soul, who was taken to the heavens way too early, had an ice storm blanket the St. Louis area on the day we would celebrate her life. Although this was a day that parents were saying goodbye to their vibrant 21- year old daughter; they were greeted this day with glorious ice that was a favorite to Allison. I don't think any of us worried about arriving to the church on time, as it was her wish to show her presence through this treacherous weather, and the sun was beaming. I remember that the warmth was beaming through the icy crystals hanging from the buildings and trees. What a miracle that was to know that this weather was her favorite, and on her day where she would be honored and talked about; we would also talk of the ice, and how she loved it so.
Snow days, I think of my sissy calling me on the other end. Her perspective on snowy days was that of a mom, who had other plans in mind, and someone had just pulled the rug out from under her. "Why did they call off school??!" I would laugh on the other end, as Chrissy was not a winter soul. She loved her tropical weathers and ocean breezes. She couldn't stand layering the kids for the cold, snowy weathers as they would beg her to play in the snow. It wasn't all about movies, cookie baking and hot cocoa at her house. It involved more work. Her kids, like mine, wanted to head out into the COLD. That was the last place she wanted to be, and in her defense, I am not a cold weather girl either. So I would just laugh at her because of her funny tones and groans; knowing full well what awaited her that day. So I had to laugh yesterday morning when Frank called me with the same question: "Why are the kids off???" I don't know if he knew, but I was smiling on the other end. On this snow day, I thought of how she would usually call and complain. It wasn't her that called, but her soul mate.......how funny is that?
Happy Snow Day, my friend.......Happy Snow Day!
Sunday, December 12, 2010
In Loving Memory
What are we supposed to do? How do we honor our sister's memory? Should we spend it alone in quiet reflection? Do we gather beside her grave, facing a stone that is only a representation of where we layed our sister's ashes to rest? For some, that is healing, but for me, I see her in more places than at any grave site. Should we hover around Frank and the kids, lending our support? Do we celebrate her life beyond this one or celebrate the life she lived here? Is there some sort of ceremony we should perform, some ritual which will honor my baby sister? Perhaps we should do what we enjoy most and feel her loving presence while doing it. In loving memory, what do we do? This first year, as we all asked ourselves these questions, emailed each other or thought of these questions in our minds, the simple answer is this: none of us knows exactly what to do, and there isn't really a blueprint for this one. For myself, I said that I would go with my gut, perhaps bake some cookies, as this is what Chrissy enjoyed during the Christmas season. She herself never liked to bake, but she loved to eat my baked goods! I loved the sounds she made as she ate each one. It is definitely healing to my soul thinking of all the yummy sounds she made or hearing the "oooohs and ahhhhs" as she studied each one so carefully daring to ask for one more. On this day, I would follow my heart knowing that she was right there beside me. We all waited and worried about Frank's needs while the kids went their way with Aunt Pam. What should we do for Frank? As we all felt and feel the deep sadness for our loss, none of us really knew where we wanted to be. Is there a right way? I suppose each of has to find our own way; deciding how to make it through this time.
This day was another mile marker in the journey of our grief, coming to grips with the impact of her death. I cannot say that I have accepted it. I don't know if I ever will. I still feel the same pain today as I have since the day she died; however; some pivotal moments can wrench my inner gut even more, as though someone reaches in and is literally tugging at my heart. Is this my sister's way of saying she is still with me? Maybe that goes beyond what IS. I don't know. Certain days, the tears can flow so much that my eyes swell. Other days, I smile thinking of something she would have said or done that would make me laugh. Some days I have those anxious moments awaiting her birthday or the first day back to school for her kids, her wedding anniversary, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and all the other days inbetween. On this day, I remembered many things about my sister during the holidays. She would plan her Christmas list for the kids, decorate the house, hunt down a special appetizer to share with the family. Now, our precious Maria steps in to be the little mother as she organizes and decorates the house along with Frank as my sister used to do. On this day, I thought of all the special notes, gifts, phone calls and emails that were sent to me, and I want to thank all of you. I may not respond, but I am so grateful. These days leading up to the anniversary of her death, I've thought of all our family Christmas traditions of riding in the car with dad when we were kids, looking at all the lights on Christmas Eve then coming home to mom saying, "Santa was here.....Santa was here!" Surprise presents were sprawled under the tree as we broke our way through the closed doors to the livingroom. Some presents bringing laughter while others shedding tears. Special notes left on the Christmas tree left by Santa and watching mom, always in a hurry trying to prepare everything to perfection....smelling her perfume and the glow on her face. These were some of my thoughts this day. As we grew into adults, playing all the family games, dancing to music, enjoying our indulgences from all the cocktails to rich foods to the sweets. Spending time with family and neighbors, laughing until we cried. All of these lovely memories came to mind, thinking of Chrissy, and all our great times.
During this week, I've also thought of the painful times leading up to her last days, watching her with her children as they revisted some of those traditions of looking at Christmas lights. Thinking of some of our last conversations, assuring her that her children would get through this, the family would make it happen. I listened to Maria in the car with my Faith as she talked of her mommy seeing the light that people see when their bodies die, and their spirits going to this special place where they will be happy forever. Yes, we talk of these things. Along with the talk of silly bodily functions, toes stuck together on Aunt Barbie's foot and special friends, we talk of life after death. It all seems surreal, but we talk of these things.
On this day, my son, Eric, who is an old soul in a young body (he always has been) gave me a card. One of his comments was to say that "Losing Aunt Chrissy was undoubtedly the saddest experience this family has ever had......" Then he goes on to say, "But just remember that she is here in all the things that we are doing." He gives specific examples of where she is with me and he says that she is right here beside me all the time, especially when I bake my chocolate chip cookies!" He continues to write, "We will see her again, mom." Again, how proud I am of all my children and so very proud and grateful for the son who gives me reassurance. My little girl, Faith, had a fundraising hat day for the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society this week. The students are asked to bring in 50 cents to support the cause or more if they are able. My daughter insisted on giving all $16.00 from her piggy bank for the cause. I told her she didn't have to clean out her piggy bank; that I would donate to the cause, too. She insisted on giving it all because her Aunt Chrissy had cancer, and someone needs to find a cure. My son, Luke, asks about photos hanging in our home. They are his grandparents, and I tell him that they are in heaven with Aunt Chrissy, and he smiles. In loving memory, they are making their way, too.
The cookie baking went on as planned, but I still worried about Frank, and where he was in all this. We talked through the week, and as I mentioned, none of us knew what to do. He wasn't sure of what he wanted to do.....be alone in his grief.....gather? On one hand you feel this sense of wanting to grieve alone and another part of you wants to gather and somehow support one another. So, I had it in my mind that my family would eat some of Chrissy's favorite foods, and one of her favorite places was Cusamano's Restaurant, which used to be in Glasgow Village where we grew up. Times have changed, but this good old favorite restaurant was relocated to St. Charles, where I think the new owners are the children of the previous owner. So there my husband traveled as I called in the order. We weren't in the mood to dine out, but take out is was. I called Susie to see if she wanted to come down to my house, as she only lives a couple blocks away, only to find out that Cassie had made her way from the north side. I told them I left a message for Frank, not sure if he would respond. We understood if he didn't; he would make his way, whatever that way was to get him through. He did call back, and we found our way over at the Corrao house. Never knowing where this day would lead me, but there we were. I left my kids with a picnic blanket and a pizza of their own to enjoy with a movie and their own set of rules, Eric in charge of course, or so he thought. There are no guidelines for what to say or how to be, but my sister traveled with me in the heart as we made our way over there. I didn't know what this day might bring, but the night was shared with pizza and some laughs as our little Lucy rambled about the house, giggling and saying the cutest things. She is our little joyful gift, that Lucy girl. We toasted to Chrissy before we ate some of her favorites: Cusamano's Special Pizza, toasted ravioli and salad with oil and vinegar. Although I remember it a bit differently; it never tasted so good as I felt her there with each bite. We wrapped some Christmas gifts and said our farewells. The awkwardness of not knowing what to do this day had become a bittersweet memory as we made our way. No doubt our hearts are still so heavy, but we made our way in loving memory.
Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
- Psalm 30
This day was another mile marker in the journey of our grief, coming to grips with the impact of her death. I cannot say that I have accepted it. I don't know if I ever will. I still feel the same pain today as I have since the day she died; however; some pivotal moments can wrench my inner gut even more, as though someone reaches in and is literally tugging at my heart. Is this my sister's way of saying she is still with me? Maybe that goes beyond what IS. I don't know. Certain days, the tears can flow so much that my eyes swell. Other days, I smile thinking of something she would have said or done that would make me laugh. Some days I have those anxious moments awaiting her birthday or the first day back to school for her kids, her wedding anniversary, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and all the other days inbetween. On this day, I remembered many things about my sister during the holidays. She would plan her Christmas list for the kids, decorate the house, hunt down a special appetizer to share with the family. Now, our precious Maria steps in to be the little mother as she organizes and decorates the house along with Frank as my sister used to do. On this day, I thought of all the special notes, gifts, phone calls and emails that were sent to me, and I want to thank all of you. I may not respond, but I am so grateful. These days leading up to the anniversary of her death, I've thought of all our family Christmas traditions of riding in the car with dad when we were kids, looking at all the lights on Christmas Eve then coming home to mom saying, "Santa was here.....Santa was here!" Surprise presents were sprawled under the tree as we broke our way through the closed doors to the livingroom. Some presents bringing laughter while others shedding tears. Special notes left on the Christmas tree left by Santa and watching mom, always in a hurry trying to prepare everything to perfection....smelling her perfume and the glow on her face. These were some of my thoughts this day. As we grew into adults, playing all the family games, dancing to music, enjoying our indulgences from all the cocktails to rich foods to the sweets. Spending time with family and neighbors, laughing until we cried. All of these lovely memories came to mind, thinking of Chrissy, and all our great times.
During this week, I've also thought of the painful times leading up to her last days, watching her with her children as they revisted some of those traditions of looking at Christmas lights. Thinking of some of our last conversations, assuring her that her children would get through this, the family would make it happen. I listened to Maria in the car with my Faith as she talked of her mommy seeing the light that people see when their bodies die, and their spirits going to this special place where they will be happy forever. Yes, we talk of these things. Along with the talk of silly bodily functions, toes stuck together on Aunt Barbie's foot and special friends, we talk of life after death. It all seems surreal, but we talk of these things.
On this day, my son, Eric, who is an old soul in a young body (he always has been) gave me a card. One of his comments was to say that "Losing Aunt Chrissy was undoubtedly the saddest experience this family has ever had......" Then he goes on to say, "But just remember that she is here in all the things that we are doing." He gives specific examples of where she is with me and he says that she is right here beside me all the time, especially when I bake my chocolate chip cookies!" He continues to write, "We will see her again, mom." Again, how proud I am of all my children and so very proud and grateful for the son who gives me reassurance. My little girl, Faith, had a fundraising hat day for the Leukemia/Lymphoma Society this week. The students are asked to bring in 50 cents to support the cause or more if they are able. My daughter insisted on giving all $16.00 from her piggy bank for the cause. I told her she didn't have to clean out her piggy bank; that I would donate to the cause, too. She insisted on giving it all because her Aunt Chrissy had cancer, and someone needs to find a cure. My son, Luke, asks about photos hanging in our home. They are his grandparents, and I tell him that they are in heaven with Aunt Chrissy, and he smiles. In loving memory, they are making their way, too.
The cookie baking went on as planned, but I still worried about Frank, and where he was in all this. We talked through the week, and as I mentioned, none of us knew what to do. He wasn't sure of what he wanted to do.....be alone in his grief.....gather? On one hand you feel this sense of wanting to grieve alone and another part of you wants to gather and somehow support one another. So, I had it in my mind that my family would eat some of Chrissy's favorite foods, and one of her favorite places was Cusamano's Restaurant, which used to be in Glasgow Village where we grew up. Times have changed, but this good old favorite restaurant was relocated to St. Charles, where I think the new owners are the children of the previous owner. So there my husband traveled as I called in the order. We weren't in the mood to dine out, but take out is was. I called Susie to see if she wanted to come down to my house, as she only lives a couple blocks away, only to find out that Cassie had made her way from the north side. I told them I left a message for Frank, not sure if he would respond. We understood if he didn't; he would make his way, whatever that way was to get him through. He did call back, and we found our way over at the Corrao house. Never knowing where this day would lead me, but there we were. I left my kids with a picnic blanket and a pizza of their own to enjoy with a movie and their own set of rules, Eric in charge of course, or so he thought. There are no guidelines for what to say or how to be, but my sister traveled with me in the heart as we made our way over there. I didn't know what this day might bring, but the night was shared with pizza and some laughs as our little Lucy rambled about the house, giggling and saying the cutest things. She is our little joyful gift, that Lucy girl. We toasted to Chrissy before we ate some of her favorites: Cusamano's Special Pizza, toasted ravioli and salad with oil and vinegar. Although I remember it a bit differently; it never tasted so good as I felt her there with each bite. We wrapped some Christmas gifts and said our farewells. The awkwardness of not knowing what to do this day had become a bittersweet memory as we made our way. No doubt our hearts are still so heavy, but we made our way in loving memory.
Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.
- Psalm 30
Friday, December 3, 2010
Goodness
December 11th marks the year anniversary of my sister's passing, and this year has been a time of reflection. My journey continues.....there's always the journey of living life and learning in the process. Sometimes not always wanting to take part in the journey, but I must and I will. A piece of my heart died the day Chrissy died, and at times, those of us that grieve, want to give up and perish, but she never gave up, so shame on me if I ever give up on life. I live on not only for me but for those around me: my children, my husband, Maria and Frankie and for my supporters and the loved ones still here. Those here in the flesh that still breathe the earthly air who love me. I must not only live for me, but I live for them. As that emotional day approaches, the year anniversary of my sister's passing, I ask myself if I have grown or learned anything. What have I learned? This journey is not only about me, but it also involves those who surround me or those whom I have come to know. Good or bad, stay or flee, friend or foe? Who do I want to surround me?
This holiday season, as I've pondered these questions, many of you have reached out in sympathetic support knowing the mixed emotions of this holiday season for my family and me. Whether through an email, a phone call, a card or in person, you haven't forgotten. You understand how the grieving process works, and you've reached out. I have received a couple of notes of support, a few emails of thinking of you, someone even called because they smelled almond flavoring and it reminded her of me and my baking and asked how I was doing. Our dear friend, MaryAnn (Nicoletti) has spent some time making lovely bracelets with Chrissy's name on them for us to wear. Someone else wrote a note expressing her thoughts of me and my family, and how this season, while joyous, must also be reminiscent of my sister's painful last days of her life. A group of women from the kids' elementary school have offered to create some special gifts for Frankie and Maria, and I am so grateful for their time and efforts. Someone else approached me during mass, and knelt down before me, only to say that they saw me and expressed how they are still praying for me and my family. I want to thank all of you who have stepped out of your own lives, took pause, and thought of me. Those of you who have lent your support have helped me in this trip of emotional healing.......thank you. Thank you so very much!
One of my character flaws is that I am not a trusting person, and sometimes I allow anger to enter my heart when seeing the lack of action by other people. Not only for me, and our loss with Chrissy, but for other issues in the world where people do not get involved. Those that sit idly by and are consumed by their own lives.....well, it angers me. When someone experiences loss, you feel as though everyone moves on and has forgotten your loved one. People don't seem to mention the person who has passed on to their new life anymore. Have they forgotten Chrissy? Have they forgotten us? Are some people afraid of the emotions it might evoke in us or perhaps in themselves? These are some of the questions I have asked myself. This year, I'm praying not to be angry about this anymore; rather, I am going to focus on the doers. I am grateful to God for His presence in my life and have learned that people come when I need them. Perhaps people who have left are not needed in my life right now or in the lives of Frank, Frankie and Maria. There is a time for every season, just as there is time for every friendship. That is what I am learning this year. Be grateful for those past and present, whatever our relationships, each and everyone had it's reason. Whether for you or for me, every relationship happened for some purpose. The time with my sister, good and bitter, happened for a reason, and I am thankful to God for her presence in my life.
I used to think that there was so much nastiness in people, but upon this year of reflection, I see more goodness. Of course, I can still be cynical (I do fall off the wagon). It's still a work in progress at times, but I realize that goodness does exist. I have made room for hope in my heart and in the goodness of people. Whether some step up to the plate or not; I hold onto the ones who do, as they give me strength, and I want them to be around me. Many walls are around me, so to speak, and my husband and a few of my close confidants can vouch for that. Chrissy understood that about me, too, and that's another reason why I loved her so much. Some traumatic experiences in our lives can either make you or break you, and I think a few took hold of me for awhile. I'm trying to let go of those feelings as some of the walls need to come down. I have learned that goodness does exist, and it's up to me to find it.
"God, let your light shine upon me"
This holiday season, as I've pondered these questions, many of you have reached out in sympathetic support knowing the mixed emotions of this holiday season for my family and me. Whether through an email, a phone call, a card or in person, you haven't forgotten. You understand how the grieving process works, and you've reached out. I have received a couple of notes of support, a few emails of thinking of you, someone even called because they smelled almond flavoring and it reminded her of me and my baking and asked how I was doing. Our dear friend, MaryAnn (Nicoletti) has spent some time making lovely bracelets with Chrissy's name on them for us to wear. Someone else wrote a note expressing her thoughts of me and my family, and how this season, while joyous, must also be reminiscent of my sister's painful last days of her life. A group of women from the kids' elementary school have offered to create some special gifts for Frankie and Maria, and I am so grateful for their time and efforts. Someone else approached me during mass, and knelt down before me, only to say that they saw me and expressed how they are still praying for me and my family. I want to thank all of you who have stepped out of your own lives, took pause, and thought of me. Those of you who have lent your support have helped me in this trip of emotional healing.......thank you. Thank you so very much!
One of my character flaws is that I am not a trusting person, and sometimes I allow anger to enter my heart when seeing the lack of action by other people. Not only for me, and our loss with Chrissy, but for other issues in the world where people do not get involved. Those that sit idly by and are consumed by their own lives.....well, it angers me. When someone experiences loss, you feel as though everyone moves on and has forgotten your loved one. People don't seem to mention the person who has passed on to their new life anymore. Have they forgotten Chrissy? Have they forgotten us? Are some people afraid of the emotions it might evoke in us or perhaps in themselves? These are some of the questions I have asked myself. This year, I'm praying not to be angry about this anymore; rather, I am going to focus on the doers. I am grateful to God for His presence in my life and have learned that people come when I need them. Perhaps people who have left are not needed in my life right now or in the lives of Frank, Frankie and Maria. There is a time for every season, just as there is time for every friendship. That is what I am learning this year. Be grateful for those past and present, whatever our relationships, each and everyone had it's reason. Whether for you or for me, every relationship happened for some purpose. The time with my sister, good and bitter, happened for a reason, and I am thankful to God for her presence in my life.
I used to think that there was so much nastiness in people, but upon this year of reflection, I see more goodness. Of course, I can still be cynical (I do fall off the wagon). It's still a work in progress at times, but I realize that goodness does exist. I have made room for hope in my heart and in the goodness of people. Whether some step up to the plate or not; I hold onto the ones who do, as they give me strength, and I want them to be around me. Many walls are around me, so to speak, and my husband and a few of my close confidants can vouch for that. Chrissy understood that about me, too, and that's another reason why I loved her so much. Some traumatic experiences in our lives can either make you or break you, and I think a few took hold of me for awhile. I'm trying to let go of those feelings as some of the walls need to come down. I have learned that goodness does exist, and it's up to me to find it.
"God, let your light shine upon me"
Friday, November 26, 2010
Why Are They Waiting??
Another Thanksgiving day has come and gone, but not without its stories, laughter, tears, curiosity and waiting. Waiting for this holiday anxiously, not at all eager for it to arrive. How would we be? My side of the family has always celebrated this holiday the Saturday before to accomodate those in the family who celebrate with their inlaws on Thanksgiving Day. This past Saturday has come and gone, and we survived, even with some laughter, low key hanging out, hugs and kisses.....more intenses hugging, and we all know why. Having our Thanksgiving the Saturday before gives us more time to just BE.........no hurries or worries.....no waiting for arrivals.....we're able to just BE.
As the month of November arrived, it brought about many memories of the past along with the memories of today that we were going to make. Those memories of past are bittersweet because they included my sister. So glad that they were a part of my memory; yet, sad that they were only a memory. Sad that the new memories to be made would not include her physical presence. Sad that her children would make those new memories without her, and perhaps thoughts of her would be fading in their minds. That's a tough pill to swallow when you want to keep her alive. We made it through, though. We are still here, and all was good.
On a lighter note, we made our new memories. Thanksgiving Day I still make a turkey for my own family with all its fixins. Some of us gathered who have no other commitments with family, and again, we made it through, even with some smiles, especially when poking fun at some of Chrissy's ways and mannerisms. We played our silly games, encouraging Frank to play, telling him what Chrissy would say to him in her own way using humor and acting out her sassiness, and we smiled. We were able to smile and laugh with aching hearts, feeling what we feel and knowing to be true. It is not about us, but we think of Frank and her children, managing in this new way, and hoping.... hoping they will be okay.
My sister, Susie, had this idea to make a new tradition by being a part of the crowd that ventures out on Black Friday. Each year the advertisements to Christmas buying becomes earlier and earlier, and I am not one of those who enjoys the crowds or the buying at such a frantic time. The sales are not worth the aggravation to me. One time, many years ago I ventured out to the toy stores early on Black Friday, thinking it would be fun, an adventure, and that I was ahead of the game, only to find frustration for a lack of finding the items and/or sales that I was looking for and fighting the lady next to me for a cart. I swore I would never do that again. Many make it a tradition of their own, this early buying, literally early buying, and I am not an early riser except by necessity. The kids have to go to school, and I must get them there. So Susie had this wild idea for Cassie, her and me to make a new tradition. We must do this for ourselves; make these new traditions because the old ones are not the same without her. Now as I said, the times become earlier each year, and this year some of our stores opened up late on Thanksgiving Day, and wouldn't it be great to take advantage of those sales? Cassie and Susie left my house after dinner late in the evening and said that they would be back in an hour to pick me up for the 10:00 opening of one of our infamous toy stores. They would head up to Susie's house, which is within walking distance from mine, laying down Lucy, and the men would take care of the homestead while we headed out to the wild. Susie and Cassie were so proud of themselves as they returned, zipping into my driveway around 9:30. We would arrive early for the outstanding bargains....and that infamous toy store is about 10 minutes from my home. We're chatting in the car, laughing, thinking of all the bargains that we would take advantage of, but of course, I was out there many years ago, and I saw the crowds and knew what we would be up against. Cassie and Susie were novices, and eager to take advantage of the bargains, not really knowing about the craziness. We approached the traffic light before our destination, and I gasped! Yes, I gasped, as I saw the sea of cars in the parking lot. Cassie and Susie looked over as well when they heard mme gasp, and all they could say was, "I can't believe it!? What are people buying? Who are these people? No way!" The line had formed from the front door of this store and traveled along the lengthy,long sidewalk and wrapped itself around to the edge of the street. As my spirited sister, Susie, entered the parking lot, she continued to say, "What are these people after???" We were going for the excitement, the gawking and perhaps to find a bargain or two....but there was no getting into this store in the near future. We all agreed that we weren't crazy enough to stand in this enormous line, in the cold for ANY toy. Even when they did open their doors, we would be waiting. There is a limit to the amount of people who could fit in this store. We started laughing as seas of people gathered like cattle to enter the doors of a toy store. Our tummies were full, feeling relaxed and we were in shock that people really did this. Our car was moving at a snail's pace with lines of cars in front of us when my sister decides to roll down her window, and she wants to ask someone what they are buying. I begin to hover down in my seat; knowing any minute that this huge crowd could lose lose their cool and go wild, and I don't want them charging the car. Drunken moms and grandmas are hovering the parking lot from the day's festivities, and my sister is yelling out the car window to anyone who will pay attention, "What are all of you buying????" We finally reach the front of the line, God knows how early they arrived to get there, and again Susie yells, "What are you buying???" I break down in gutteral laughter, as the three of us mock the individuals who do this. "We'll start our own tradition. We'll drive around to all these crowds of waiting people, with our hot chocolate and toasty cars, and yell from our car." That will be our new tradition, gawking at the seas of crowds who stay up late or wake up early to find these so called bargains. Earlier in the day, we talked about control and "the man" who sticks it to the tax paying people. Definitely, I believe these stores lure people in. I'm not convinced that the bargains are worth the waiting. Why are they waiting? I realize for many that this waking up early or heading out late with their families or friends is a tradition, but for me, I prefer to make those traditions from the warmth of my car. We agreed that while they are waiting, our new tradition would be to gawk at all the crowds, with food and beverages of course, in our own car. Chrissy for sure was laughing with us.
As we drove around to other stores gawking and laughing, tents erected.....we looked in disbelief. We've heard these stories on the news before, people doing this, waiting, even losing their lives over this thing, this idea of waiting and finding the bargains. It's a sight to behold, and while they were waiting in the cold, I was laughing from the warmth of my sister's car with people I loved. Perhaps the cold and waiting were worth it if they were with people they loved. Perhaps that is why they were waiting.
Happy Black Friday!
As the month of November arrived, it brought about many memories of the past along with the memories of today that we were going to make. Those memories of past are bittersweet because they included my sister. So glad that they were a part of my memory; yet, sad that they were only a memory. Sad that the new memories to be made would not include her physical presence. Sad that her children would make those new memories without her, and perhaps thoughts of her would be fading in their minds. That's a tough pill to swallow when you want to keep her alive. We made it through, though. We are still here, and all was good.
On a lighter note, we made our new memories. Thanksgiving Day I still make a turkey for my own family with all its fixins. Some of us gathered who have no other commitments with family, and again, we made it through, even with some smiles, especially when poking fun at some of Chrissy's ways and mannerisms. We played our silly games, encouraging Frank to play, telling him what Chrissy would say to him in her own way using humor and acting out her sassiness, and we smiled. We were able to smile and laugh with aching hearts, feeling what we feel and knowing to be true. It is not about us, but we think of Frank and her children, managing in this new way, and hoping.... hoping they will be okay.
My sister, Susie, had this idea to make a new tradition by being a part of the crowd that ventures out on Black Friday. Each year the advertisements to Christmas buying becomes earlier and earlier, and I am not one of those who enjoys the crowds or the buying at such a frantic time. The sales are not worth the aggravation to me. One time, many years ago I ventured out to the toy stores early on Black Friday, thinking it would be fun, an adventure, and that I was ahead of the game, only to find frustration for a lack of finding the items and/or sales that I was looking for and fighting the lady next to me for a cart. I swore I would never do that again. Many make it a tradition of their own, this early buying, literally early buying, and I am not an early riser except by necessity. The kids have to go to school, and I must get them there. So Susie had this wild idea for Cassie, her and me to make a new tradition. We must do this for ourselves; make these new traditions because the old ones are not the same without her. Now as I said, the times become earlier each year, and this year some of our stores opened up late on Thanksgiving Day, and wouldn't it be great to take advantage of those sales? Cassie and Susie left my house after dinner late in the evening and said that they would be back in an hour to pick me up for the 10:00 opening of one of our infamous toy stores. They would head up to Susie's house, which is within walking distance from mine, laying down Lucy, and the men would take care of the homestead while we headed out to the wild. Susie and Cassie were so proud of themselves as they returned, zipping into my driveway around 9:30. We would arrive early for the outstanding bargains....and that infamous toy store is about 10 minutes from my home. We're chatting in the car, laughing, thinking of all the bargains that we would take advantage of, but of course, I was out there many years ago, and I saw the crowds and knew what we would be up against. Cassie and Susie were novices, and eager to take advantage of the bargains, not really knowing about the craziness. We approached the traffic light before our destination, and I gasped! Yes, I gasped, as I saw the sea of cars in the parking lot. Cassie and Susie looked over as well when they heard mme gasp, and all they could say was, "I can't believe it!? What are people buying? Who are these people? No way!" The line had formed from the front door of this store and traveled along the lengthy,long sidewalk and wrapped itself around to the edge of the street. As my spirited sister, Susie, entered the parking lot, she continued to say, "What are these people after???" We were going for the excitement, the gawking and perhaps to find a bargain or two....but there was no getting into this store in the near future. We all agreed that we weren't crazy enough to stand in this enormous line, in the cold for ANY toy. Even when they did open their doors, we would be waiting. There is a limit to the amount of people who could fit in this store. We started laughing as seas of people gathered like cattle to enter the doors of a toy store. Our tummies were full, feeling relaxed and we were in shock that people really did this. Our car was moving at a snail's pace with lines of cars in front of us when my sister decides to roll down her window, and she wants to ask someone what they are buying. I begin to hover down in my seat; knowing any minute that this huge crowd could lose lose their cool and go wild, and I don't want them charging the car. Drunken moms and grandmas are hovering the parking lot from the day's festivities, and my sister is yelling out the car window to anyone who will pay attention, "What are all of you buying????" We finally reach the front of the line, God knows how early they arrived to get there, and again Susie yells, "What are you buying???" I break down in gutteral laughter, as the three of us mock the individuals who do this. "We'll start our own tradition. We'll drive around to all these crowds of waiting people, with our hot chocolate and toasty cars, and yell from our car." That will be our new tradition, gawking at the seas of crowds who stay up late or wake up early to find these so called bargains. Earlier in the day, we talked about control and "the man" who sticks it to the tax paying people. Definitely, I believe these stores lure people in. I'm not convinced that the bargains are worth the waiting. Why are they waiting? I realize for many that this waking up early or heading out late with their families or friends is a tradition, but for me, I prefer to make those traditions from the warmth of my car. We agreed that while they are waiting, our new tradition would be to gawk at all the crowds, with food and beverages of course, in our own car. Chrissy for sure was laughing with us.
As we drove around to other stores gawking and laughing, tents erected.....we looked in disbelief. We've heard these stories on the news before, people doing this, waiting, even losing their lives over this thing, this idea of waiting and finding the bargains. It's a sight to behold, and while they were waiting in the cold, I was laughing from the warmth of my sister's car with people I loved. Perhaps the cold and waiting were worth it if they were with people they loved. Perhaps that is why they were waiting.
Happy Black Friday!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Two Hearts Two Flowers
Knowing flowers isn't my claim to fame, but knowing that she lives in me and around me are so vivid on these crisp autumn days. Autumn is my most favorite time of the year with its array of browns, golds and oranges. I love the combination of colors, and it's reflected on the inside colors of my house. It brings a sense of calm and anticipation of all the festivities of the season with Halloween and Thanksgiving......shortly followed by the onset of Christmas.
One morning as I set my tired feet to the floor; I asked Chrissy to please show me a sign that she was near. (Please knock me over with your presence my friend) Of course, I know she is always here, but I need those tangibles every once in awhile to keep me moving some days. So here begins the story of two hearts and two flowers. One notion that became clear a long time ago is that my husband is not a flower giver. Understand when I say that flowers are wonderful, but for me, I appreciate them more given in long intervals. That sounds like a bunch of rubbish, but I hold onto the hugs and kisses more or the "I love yous"......those are more precious to me. When he gives me flowers, I know it's genuine and heartfelt. He has so many other special qualities, but romancing me with flowers isn't one of them. As memories invade my soul constantly during these November days; many tears have been shed. My heart aches to be near her, and I can't help but reflect on where we were this time last year. My hubby can sense this, too, and he sees the pain of my soul, missing my sister's physical presence near me. Thus came the day he brought me home flowers from Trader Joes.......one of my most favorite places to shop, especially their fresh flowers. He brought them home on a day that was most needed as I was thinking about the news we heard on November 12th last year. My sister, Susie, called to say that Chrissy's doctor recommended hospice care as there was nothing more that they could do medically speaking. Susie was with her that day when they went to the doctor for the last time. Hearing this sort of news puts you in a state of shock; yet, it wasn't a total surprise to me. My sister's health was declining quickly before me, and I knew her earthly time was nearing an end. With that said, the memories invade my mind, and so this gorgeous bouquet of flowers which included some daisies, roses, iris buds and some other unidentifiable ones was given to me by my honey. The fact that this man of mine knew.....he knew and remembered, and that's all that mattered to me. With a special card and flowers in hand, they dried my tears. The flowers adorned my kitchen counter and for the next days, I would look at them and smell their fragrances. One day, one of the buds had bloomed into a gorgeous, pink iris. A couple of days it sat alone in the variety of other flowers. So back to the day that I awoke, longing to see a sign of her presence. Always knowing of course, but I'm human, and I crave for those signs. Those signs confirming what I already know. On that morning I prayed for her to make her presence known.....knock me over. I went about my day at work, and I was stopped my my supervisor who told me that many compliments were coming his way about my performance there, and that made my day! Later on, I was finishing my day, cleaning up the dinner dishes when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye: the iris that was one......full bloom of course, was now standing beside another pink iris that was connected to it in full bloom as well. Perhaps you might say it was no big deal, but only that morning it was a closed bud. I remember this because the one iris was in full bloom for a few days and the other one was still a bud. I thought this was kind of strange because both of them were on the same stem, but only one had been opened for the past few days. How blessed that is that on the day I ask her to show me a sign, the other pink iris opens itself. They still sit beside each other, and for this week I see them still beautiful, pink and strong......just as she must be in the life beyond........both of us still connected just as the flowers are on the same stem.....connected. I didn't share this story with Marty, but I kept it to myself. It was on this same day, too, later in the evening when I had a hair appointment and on my way home I thought about stopping for an icecream, but I decided not to. With the holidays approaching, it was better that I laid off this favorite treat of mine. After the kids went to bed that evening, Marty said, "I need to make a run." (our code word for going to Dairy Queen) I chuckled to myself, but it only got better when he arrived back from his run. He said to me, "You know, your sister's been calling me." I responded with, "Deni? Susie? About what??"
"Your sister's been calling me," he repeated with an odd look on his face. It was then that I knew he meant Chrissy. It is very rare to hear Marty say something like this. I paused, and then I asked, "What has she been calling you about?"
"Well, strange as this sounds, the past few days.....atleast three times, when I drive under a street light, it flickers off, and then you come to mind. Tonight, it happened again, and I thought of you and Dairy Queen. She kept bugging me about getting you Dairy Queen!" We both looked at each other because I never mentioned to Marty about getting me any icecream that night when I felt my craving for the sweet treat.
Our two hearts are still connected like those two flowers. There's no doubt Chrissy and I live in this realm, not connected by the body anymore, but most definitely we are connected in the heart, in spirit. I've never doubted this, but when my heart aches for the physical, it's nice to be reminded. I know we are forever connected as two sister hearts should be.
"I love you my friend"
One morning as I set my tired feet to the floor; I asked Chrissy to please show me a sign that she was near. (Please knock me over with your presence my friend) Of course, I know she is always here, but I need those tangibles every once in awhile to keep me moving some days. So here begins the story of two hearts and two flowers. One notion that became clear a long time ago is that my husband is not a flower giver. Understand when I say that flowers are wonderful, but for me, I appreciate them more given in long intervals. That sounds like a bunch of rubbish, but I hold onto the hugs and kisses more or the "I love yous"......those are more precious to me. When he gives me flowers, I know it's genuine and heartfelt. He has so many other special qualities, but romancing me with flowers isn't one of them. As memories invade my soul constantly during these November days; many tears have been shed. My heart aches to be near her, and I can't help but reflect on where we were this time last year. My hubby can sense this, too, and he sees the pain of my soul, missing my sister's physical presence near me. Thus came the day he brought me home flowers from Trader Joes.......one of my most favorite places to shop, especially their fresh flowers. He brought them home on a day that was most needed as I was thinking about the news we heard on November 12th last year. My sister, Susie, called to say that Chrissy's doctor recommended hospice care as there was nothing more that they could do medically speaking. Susie was with her that day when they went to the doctor for the last time. Hearing this sort of news puts you in a state of shock; yet, it wasn't a total surprise to me. My sister's health was declining quickly before me, and I knew her earthly time was nearing an end. With that said, the memories invade my mind, and so this gorgeous bouquet of flowers which included some daisies, roses, iris buds and some other unidentifiable ones was given to me by my honey. The fact that this man of mine knew.....he knew and remembered, and that's all that mattered to me. With a special card and flowers in hand, they dried my tears. The flowers adorned my kitchen counter and for the next days, I would look at them and smell their fragrances. One day, one of the buds had bloomed into a gorgeous, pink iris. A couple of days it sat alone in the variety of other flowers. So back to the day that I awoke, longing to see a sign of her presence. Always knowing of course, but I'm human, and I crave for those signs. Those signs confirming what I already know. On that morning I prayed for her to make her presence known.....knock me over. I went about my day at work, and I was stopped my my supervisor who told me that many compliments were coming his way about my performance there, and that made my day! Later on, I was finishing my day, cleaning up the dinner dishes when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye: the iris that was one......full bloom of course, was now standing beside another pink iris that was connected to it in full bloom as well. Perhaps you might say it was no big deal, but only that morning it was a closed bud. I remember this because the one iris was in full bloom for a few days and the other one was still a bud. I thought this was kind of strange because both of them were on the same stem, but only one had been opened for the past few days. How blessed that is that on the day I ask her to show me a sign, the other pink iris opens itself. They still sit beside each other, and for this week I see them still beautiful, pink and strong......just as she must be in the life beyond........both of us still connected just as the flowers are on the same stem.....connected. I didn't share this story with Marty, but I kept it to myself. It was on this same day, too, later in the evening when I had a hair appointment and on my way home I thought about stopping for an icecream, but I decided not to. With the holidays approaching, it was better that I laid off this favorite treat of mine. After the kids went to bed that evening, Marty said, "I need to make a run." (our code word for going to Dairy Queen) I chuckled to myself, but it only got better when he arrived back from his run. He said to me, "You know, your sister's been calling me." I responded with, "Deni? Susie? About what??"
"Your sister's been calling me," he repeated with an odd look on his face. It was then that I knew he meant Chrissy. It is very rare to hear Marty say something like this. I paused, and then I asked, "What has she been calling you about?"
"Well, strange as this sounds, the past few days.....atleast three times, when I drive under a street light, it flickers off, and then you come to mind. Tonight, it happened again, and I thought of you and Dairy Queen. She kept bugging me about getting you Dairy Queen!" We both looked at each other because I never mentioned to Marty about getting me any icecream that night when I felt my craving for the sweet treat.
Our two hearts are still connected like those two flowers. There's no doubt Chrissy and I live in this realm, not connected by the body anymore, but most definitely we are connected in the heart, in spirit. I've never doubted this, but when my heart aches for the physical, it's nice to be reminded. I know we are forever connected as two sister hearts should be.
"I love you my friend"
Thursday, November 11, 2010
I've Got Soul But I'm Not a Soldier
Who am I to complain when I am able to see my family everyday while so many others wait months and even years to see their own families? Who am I to complain when there is a parent, a child, a spouse who has buried their loved one today for the sake of our country.....for me......for all Americans? Today I reflect upon my dad, my uncles, my family and friends who fought in various wars solely to protect my rights as an American. Without a doubt, I consider myself patriotic, but what does that mean? What exactly does that mean for you? Are we all grateful for the many sacrifices, the blood that has been shed for our right to speak and write as we want, worship wherever we wish, live how we choose to live and be free? Are we grateful? I am.....and I thank all the young Americans who have walked this journey especially those who have paid the ultimate price with their lives. Each having their own story as to why they chose to be a soldier. A soldier is a special breed, and today all of us should take pause to honor those who have walked the walk and not just talked it.
As a child, I remember hearing stories from a distance of the heartaches of war. During dinner, when we complained about our food, it was a familiar response from my dad that made me cringe. Now understand that my dad took the shock you type of parenting stradegy. He didn't waste time in mincing words. There was no filter in the Meyer household. He didn't mind telling us that people were starved and tortured to death in China. We should be grateful to have a table with food while people in other countries were eating each other to survive. How about that for dinner conversation? As a little girl, it did hit a chord with me, and of course I ate everything on my plate. Thus began my lifetime wave of food issues! More than that, I also got a sense from my dad that there was ugliness in war, but it was necessary to keep our place as Americans. It was a privilege to live here in our country, and it was our duty to uphold those rights. If we weren't the soldiers, we must honor those who were.
We never asked our dad or uncles about those war time stories. There was an unspoken understanding that it was too painful to mention. We think we want to know those stories but do we? There were probably too many unspeakable moments that no one of that era wanted to relive. I do recall vivid memories of my Uncle Bill who served during Vietnam, his letters home and the recordings made during Aunt Marie's Christmas gatherings. It cracked me up watching Aunt Josephine attempting to talk with Uncle Bill into the microphone after she had one too many, awaiting a response from Uncle Bill. "Bill? Billlll?? Billly???? Hello Bill?" Everyone else was too busy laughing that no one else was able to grab the microphone quick enough. I was there, though, I saw it. She took that old-fashioned reel to reel microphone and awaited his response. I think in her mind it was probably high-tech in those days. Perhaps she thought it was a telephone. Maybe it was a combination of the liquor and all the excitement of the holiday gathering. Either way, I suppose it brought some laughter to a very awkward time in our history.
I remember the day Uncle Bill showed up unexpectedly to our home. My Aunt Nancy happened to be at our house, and while she was downstairs doing laundry my mom answered the front door with Uncle Bill standing before her. I remember tears, and as a little girl, I didn't quite understand. I was about four or five years old at the time. He then went to greet my Aunt Nancy as she walked up the stairs with a laundry basket in her hands. He walked down one side and she walked up the other, not noticing immediately who was beside her. Uncle Bill said, "Hi Mickey." (her nickname) Aunt Nancy then replied, "Oh hi Bill." A second or two passed and then she suddenly stopped, "Bill!" Again the tears, but I did not understand. Why was everyone crying???
I am filled with so many wonderful memories. This soul of mine has been growing within since I've been born, but I am by no means a soldier. This soul grows from all the joys, the laughter and the sorrows. All of my experiences in life have shaped this soul within that has been traveling, learning, understanding and growing still. Some say my soul, my being is God given and I am to figure out what its purpose is. Without a doubt, I believe that I am a being with many dimensions, many talents, but I do not claim to be a soldier. That my friends I leave to the brave ones..........our true beloved soldiers of this great United States. Those who are here as well as those who have gone before us that fought for our freedoms, they are the true soldiers. At some point in their lives, they were chosen. Whether they enlisted by force, by choice or by circumstance........they were there for me and generations before me.
On this day, I honor and respect our soldiers by saying "The Pledge of Allegiance," and placing my hand over my heart, respectfully listening to the National Anthem, and saying "thank you" to any soldier I happen to meet. Those are easy ways to say "thank you" back without too much effort. Ultimately the right to vote is another one of those rights given to us by our fore fathers, blood shed through the Revolutionary War. You may have your own personal political views, but the bottom line is this: you walk these streets in freedom because of blood shed by our veterans. You watch your televisions, use your cell phones, attend your choice of schools and live where you choose to live. It's not at all a perfect country, but it is ours. Look around.....look around to other countries. Ask yourselves this: "Where would I be without them, our veterans?" My friends, please pay homage to these great people in whatever way possible. The life we have been given here is what it is because of them. Although I've got soul, I am not a soldier, but I will honor those who are. To all of our soldiers, past and present: THANK YOU!
"God Bless America!"
As a child, I remember hearing stories from a distance of the heartaches of war. During dinner, when we complained about our food, it was a familiar response from my dad that made me cringe. Now understand that my dad took the shock you type of parenting stradegy. He didn't waste time in mincing words. There was no filter in the Meyer household. He didn't mind telling us that people were starved and tortured to death in China. We should be grateful to have a table with food while people in other countries were eating each other to survive. How about that for dinner conversation? As a little girl, it did hit a chord with me, and of course I ate everything on my plate. Thus began my lifetime wave of food issues! More than that, I also got a sense from my dad that there was ugliness in war, but it was necessary to keep our place as Americans. It was a privilege to live here in our country, and it was our duty to uphold those rights. If we weren't the soldiers, we must honor those who were.
We never asked our dad or uncles about those war time stories. There was an unspoken understanding that it was too painful to mention. We think we want to know those stories but do we? There were probably too many unspeakable moments that no one of that era wanted to relive. I do recall vivid memories of my Uncle Bill who served during Vietnam, his letters home and the recordings made during Aunt Marie's Christmas gatherings. It cracked me up watching Aunt Josephine attempting to talk with Uncle Bill into the microphone after she had one too many, awaiting a response from Uncle Bill. "Bill? Billlll?? Billly???? Hello Bill?" Everyone else was too busy laughing that no one else was able to grab the microphone quick enough. I was there, though, I saw it. She took that old-fashioned reel to reel microphone and awaited his response. I think in her mind it was probably high-tech in those days. Perhaps she thought it was a telephone. Maybe it was a combination of the liquor and all the excitement of the holiday gathering. Either way, I suppose it brought some laughter to a very awkward time in our history.
I remember the day Uncle Bill showed up unexpectedly to our home. My Aunt Nancy happened to be at our house, and while she was downstairs doing laundry my mom answered the front door with Uncle Bill standing before her. I remember tears, and as a little girl, I didn't quite understand. I was about four or five years old at the time. He then went to greet my Aunt Nancy as she walked up the stairs with a laundry basket in her hands. He walked down one side and she walked up the other, not noticing immediately who was beside her. Uncle Bill said, "Hi Mickey." (her nickname) Aunt Nancy then replied, "Oh hi Bill." A second or two passed and then she suddenly stopped, "Bill!" Again the tears, but I did not understand. Why was everyone crying???
I am filled with so many wonderful memories. This soul of mine has been growing within since I've been born, but I am by no means a soldier. This soul grows from all the joys, the laughter and the sorrows. All of my experiences in life have shaped this soul within that has been traveling, learning, understanding and growing still. Some say my soul, my being is God given and I am to figure out what its purpose is. Without a doubt, I believe that I am a being with many dimensions, many talents, but I do not claim to be a soldier. That my friends I leave to the brave ones..........our true beloved soldiers of this great United States. Those who are here as well as those who have gone before us that fought for our freedoms, they are the true soldiers. At some point in their lives, they were chosen. Whether they enlisted by force, by choice or by circumstance........they were there for me and generations before me.
On this day, I honor and respect our soldiers by saying "The Pledge of Allegiance," and placing my hand over my heart, respectfully listening to the National Anthem, and saying "thank you" to any soldier I happen to meet. Those are easy ways to say "thank you" back without too much effort. Ultimately the right to vote is another one of those rights given to us by our fore fathers, blood shed through the Revolutionary War. You may have your own personal political views, but the bottom line is this: you walk these streets in freedom because of blood shed by our veterans. You watch your televisions, use your cell phones, attend your choice of schools and live where you choose to live. It's not at all a perfect country, but it is ours. Look around.....look around to other countries. Ask yourselves this: "Where would I be without them, our veterans?" My friends, please pay homage to these great people in whatever way possible. The life we have been given here is what it is because of them. Although I've got soul, I am not a soldier, but I will honor those who are. To all of our soldiers, past and present: THANK YOU!
"God Bless America!"
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Brightness Through Cloudy Visions
The other day I was traveling in my car, on my way to pick up Maria for swimming, and I saw the most precious, monumental sky. This past Thursday, the clouds were in full fall swing, giving you that glimpse of light through the cloudiness, appearing like mountains in the sky. Many of us at work were even noticing the drastic changes from the morning to the afternoon. All of us wondering if rain or tornadoes might be possible. Though it wasn't a rainy, cloud-like darkness, but one of those light-filled cloudy skies, cool and entrancing, taking the shape of distant lands. Those type of days where you want to make a huge pot of simmering chilly, sit yourself in front of the fireplace and cozy under the warm blankets with a good book. That's the kind of day it was.
These days of reliving what I never thought I would experience in my life; living beside my sister while she was approaching the last days of her living life; wondering how to live my life here on earth without her. There aren't words to describe watching someone you love suffer, and there isn't much to do but love and support them to the best of your ability. No words can describe the intensity of your emotions, the helplessness that explodes inside you. All these memories are once again resurfacing to their fullest. My emotions are in full swing, and I find myself creeping within once again, trying to avoid human contact. That's who I am. While some search for human contact; I find comfort in solitude.
As I was driving Thursday evening, traveling west and watching this gorgeous fall sky; all these thoughts were rummaging through my mind. How did it all happen so quick? That time with her.....while so fortunate given the opportunity to spend time with her; it was all too quick. Soon will come that day, November 12th, when we learned that there was nothing else medically that could be done to save her. I remember the date because it was also the birthday of my dear friend, Kris. I continued to stare up in the skies but also realizing I must look ahead to the road. I didn't want to crash into someone.....but I couldn't keep my eyes away from that sky. Metaphorically speaking, I found myself thinking about my own life....how I'm living it. I am always looking up towards the heavens, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road and hoping I don't crash.
So as I drove looking up at the sky, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road, I saw these rays of sunshine beaming from the sky down to earth......and all I could do was smile. It's hard to explain, but with all the sadness that lives in my soul, there is also a feeling of joy knowing that those rays were meant for me. Perhaps thousands of other people driving Manchester Road that day may have seen or felt the same, but somehow I felt that message coming from her. She knows the sadness that I feel, and without a doubt I felt her. I felt her telling me that through this grief; I will feel joy without her physical presence because her spiritual presence is always there with me.
After picking up Maria, I said, "Maria, look up at the sky.....look how bright it is through the clouds and the sun beams reaching down. That is your mom telling us that she is watching us and you." I couldn't help myself in telling her that. As I told Chrissy, I would remind her children of her mother's presence and love for them. No matter what, I will. You see, my friends, there is brightness through the cloudy visions. We read it in sympathy cards or hear it from those who try to comfort us, but we must see it for ourselves. Look around for those precious moments as they carry us through to the next moments.
"We may not see the shining of the promises-but still they shine! And the strength of the hills that is his also, is not for one moment less because of our human weakness. Heaven is no dream. Feelings go and come like clouds. But the "hills" and "stars" abide."
by Amy Carmichael
These days of reliving what I never thought I would experience in my life; living beside my sister while she was approaching the last days of her living life; wondering how to live my life here on earth without her. There aren't words to describe watching someone you love suffer, and there isn't much to do but love and support them to the best of your ability. No words can describe the intensity of your emotions, the helplessness that explodes inside you. All these memories are once again resurfacing to their fullest. My emotions are in full swing, and I find myself creeping within once again, trying to avoid human contact. That's who I am. While some search for human contact; I find comfort in solitude.
As I was driving Thursday evening, traveling west and watching this gorgeous fall sky; all these thoughts were rummaging through my mind. How did it all happen so quick? That time with her.....while so fortunate given the opportunity to spend time with her; it was all too quick. Soon will come that day, November 12th, when we learned that there was nothing else medically that could be done to save her. I remember the date because it was also the birthday of my dear friend, Kris. I continued to stare up in the skies but also realizing I must look ahead to the road. I didn't want to crash into someone.....but I couldn't keep my eyes away from that sky. Metaphorically speaking, I found myself thinking about my own life....how I'm living it. I am always looking up towards the heavens, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road and hoping I don't crash.
So as I drove looking up at the sky, hardly able to keep my eyes on the road, I saw these rays of sunshine beaming from the sky down to earth......and all I could do was smile. It's hard to explain, but with all the sadness that lives in my soul, there is also a feeling of joy knowing that those rays were meant for me. Perhaps thousands of other people driving Manchester Road that day may have seen or felt the same, but somehow I felt that message coming from her. She knows the sadness that I feel, and without a doubt I felt her. I felt her telling me that through this grief; I will feel joy without her physical presence because her spiritual presence is always there with me.
After picking up Maria, I said, "Maria, look up at the sky.....look how bright it is through the clouds and the sun beams reaching down. That is your mom telling us that she is watching us and you." I couldn't help myself in telling her that. As I told Chrissy, I would remind her children of her mother's presence and love for them. No matter what, I will. You see, my friends, there is brightness through the cloudy visions. We read it in sympathy cards or hear it from those who try to comfort us, but we must see it for ourselves. Look around for those precious moments as they carry us through to the next moments.
"We may not see the shining of the promises-but still they shine! And the strength of the hills that is his also, is not for one moment less because of our human weakness. Heaven is no dream. Feelings go and come like clouds. But the "hills" and "stars" abide."
by Amy Carmichael
Sunday, October 31, 2010
The Aftermath
Another one has presented itself and has passed. Does it become easier? I don't think so, but we play the part; we must. We ate our usual treats of chili, nachos, hotdogs, kettle corn and so much more. The spooky decorations were sprawled throughout the house and yard, as we greeted the little goblins at my sister's house. As the late afternoon started with our Halloween festivities, there was an anxiousness in my movements. I generally don't like to zip through this special holiday, but this year I did. I tried to stay focused on the kids, their childish antics and costume presentations, but it was not without that lump in my throat. That dreaded lump that lingers behind my held back tears. I loved watching our little Lucy as she smiled with excitement in her giraffe costume collecting her treats from house to house. As photo opts were taken, it doesn't take a genious to see the heartache in little Maria's eyes. At one moment she is playing like an eight year old should play, and the next I watch her take pause....there is an emptiness in her eyes.....a longing. How can there not be? The family can do all we can, her father gives it everything and so much more, but we are still not her mother. Perhaps her subtle expressions are missed by some, maybe seen but unspoken, but you can see it in both of her children's eyes.
We try to make it perfect, the childish antics, the food, the trick-o-treating, but we all still missed her. Chrissy loved to dress up and play pretend on this ghoulish holiday. She was struggling last year at this time, and we all remember it.......her smiling in her mummy costume. She gave it everything she had, and we celebrated! It was so special last year but bittersweet at the same time. With Halloween landing on a Sunday this year and the kids going to school tomorrow, we didn't stay as long as we usually do. We still had our bonfire and laughed some, but the pang in my heart was still there. I wanted to bundle both those babies up and tell them that one day they will feel normal again. One day, life will be okay. As we try to maneuver through this awkwardness, trying to enjoy life these days, we will learn and grow. Our souls will mature and we will know. As always we are grateful for what we have been given, but at the same time we still miss what has been taken. So what else do we do? We move on, enjoy life in the best way we can, breathe in and breathe out.
I want to thank Frank, Susie and Dave, Cassie and Kyle, Marty and Eric for bringing it all together as we did. We did it for the kids......hell we did it for us......to feel some normalcy. We pulled this one off and then we forge ahead to face yet another holiday, another day and each day we will gain strength. That much I know to be true.....we will. The aftermath is full of reflections: aches in my heart while still missing my little sister, gratefulness in my heart for the rest of my family who pulls it together, gratitude for Frank who moves while I know he still misses her so much, anger for the loss of possibilities. It sounds like a cliche sometimes, but it's often said that all we have is here and now. I can't say what will happen tomorrow......we can only hope and dream......but today is all we have in the aftermath. It was celebrated, and the kids loved it!
To all of you, "Happy Halloween!"
We try to make it perfect, the childish antics, the food, the trick-o-treating, but we all still missed her. Chrissy loved to dress up and play pretend on this ghoulish holiday. She was struggling last year at this time, and we all remember it.......her smiling in her mummy costume. She gave it everything she had, and we celebrated! It was so special last year but bittersweet at the same time. With Halloween landing on a Sunday this year and the kids going to school tomorrow, we didn't stay as long as we usually do. We still had our bonfire and laughed some, but the pang in my heart was still there. I wanted to bundle both those babies up and tell them that one day they will feel normal again. One day, life will be okay. As we try to maneuver through this awkwardness, trying to enjoy life these days, we will learn and grow. Our souls will mature and we will know. As always we are grateful for what we have been given, but at the same time we still miss what has been taken. So what else do we do? We move on, enjoy life in the best way we can, breathe in and breathe out.
I want to thank Frank, Susie and Dave, Cassie and Kyle, Marty and Eric for bringing it all together as we did. We did it for the kids......hell we did it for us......to feel some normalcy. We pulled this one off and then we forge ahead to face yet another holiday, another day and each day we will gain strength. That much I know to be true.....we will. The aftermath is full of reflections: aches in my heart while still missing my little sister, gratefulness in my heart for the rest of my family who pulls it together, gratitude for Frank who moves while I know he still misses her so much, anger for the loss of possibilities. It sounds like a cliche sometimes, but it's often said that all we have is here and now. I can't say what will happen tomorrow......we can only hope and dream......but today is all we have in the aftermath. It was celebrated, and the kids loved it!
To all of you, "Happy Halloween!"
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Bagels and Cream Cheese
One of the joys Chrissy and I shared, especially when our girls were of preschool age and half day kindergarten, was enjoying a cup of coffee and eating our bagels while our girls played. (it wasn't all work and no fun as stay home moms....we had our pleasures, too) Her favorite morning indulgence was a seseme seed bagel toasted, a smear of butter topped with a smear of cream cheese. Mmmmmmmmmm, was it so tasty on a crisp fall day like today. How I relished those conversations that only a sister could appreciate. Often we would talk of our spouses: how we loved them and wanted to kill them at the same time. All in jest of course, as we know sometimes men and women are on different wave lengths. She would share her love of Frank and dog him at the same time, just as I would of Marty. We supported each other on our journeys of motherhood and marriage. We would talk of our lives, laugh, share family secrets and stories, and correct our girls if they were getting into mischief.......and all was good. I thank God for those times of simple pleasures; yet, I know I was so blessed. Many a days "onlookers".....other moms......would express their envy of the relationship we had.
I try so very hard to stay in the moment these days of grief, appreciate my family and our blessed times. It's difficult not to look back and miss those other times that are now in the past. It's not productive to look back and long for those times again.....even though I have......as I'm a sister and a human being. I try not to look to the future, but there are days when I do.....and I have to talk myself back to now. Now is what we have to live because there is no control over the past or the future and not even now. That much I have learned in this life.
When I feel the crisp fall air and see the gorgeous colors as I do this morning, I can't help but think of those warm coffees and bagels smeared with our indulgences. That experience sustains me now as I will never forget them. I try not to linger there too long, but I wil never forget. How blessed I am to have had those times because a sister relationship is like no other. For now I have my coffee and an egg sandwich. It is different but just as good. I will live with it for today, and perhaps she is still having her coffee, bagels and cream cheese but in a new light, with all those that have gone before us. Imagine how it must taste!
Savor those blessed moments of your life and be grateful for the experience
I try so very hard to stay in the moment these days of grief, appreciate my family and our blessed times. It's difficult not to look back and miss those other times that are now in the past. It's not productive to look back and long for those times again.....even though I have......as I'm a sister and a human being. I try not to look to the future, but there are days when I do.....and I have to talk myself back to now. Now is what we have to live because there is no control over the past or the future and not even now. That much I have learned in this life.
When I feel the crisp fall air and see the gorgeous colors as I do this morning, I can't help but think of those warm coffees and bagels smeared with our indulgences. That experience sustains me now as I will never forget them. I try not to linger there too long, but I wil never forget. How blessed I am to have had those times because a sister relationship is like no other. For now I have my coffee and an egg sandwich. It is different but just as good. I will live with it for today, and perhaps she is still having her coffee, bagels and cream cheese but in a new light, with all those that have gone before us. Imagine how it must taste!
Savor those blessed moments of your life and be grateful for the experience
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Act Like Children
"Halloween's only 10 days away MOM!!!" shouts my Luke, as he wakes up this morning. "When are we going to carve the pumpkins?????" That is the question I've heard for about two weeks now, everyday from both Luke and Faith. One of Eric's birthday gifts is a creepy man who shoots fog from his mouth that he tests every other day to be sure that it works for our Halloween night of festivities at the Corrao house/neighborhood. It is a sight to behold over there, seeing all that is presented in their neighborhood. People are dishing out pastas, popcorn, hotdogs, beer, soda, hot chocolate and yes, even CANDY........the list goes on. Our annual pumpkin patch adventure went down this past weekend with sunny, beautiful weather; however, my trip to Aldi's for the huge $1.99 pumpkins happened only a week before that! I bought four of them, one for each kid and hopefully one to save for Thanksgiving Day. You gotta love that Aldi's!!! We love to experience the thrill of the pumpkin patch at Thies' Farm, but we gave our money to the grocery store who honors the working class people! To live in the Woytus house during October is to immerse yourself in everything spooky with oranges and blacks, dangling bats and spiders, creepy hands edging over shelves and spider webs sprawled throughout the house. The good part is that you can't see the real spider webs with all the fake ones around. Sometimes I mistake the real spiders for the fake ones. It is one of my most favorite times of the year, even with all the goings on and shuffling around with activities and school celebrations.......it is a special, wonderful time for our family. It was Chrissy's 2nd most favorite holiday.....Thanksgiving was her first......as she adored all the foods and smells in store for that event. Food was a priority and Halloween just didn't hold a candle in the food department for her. Halloween was good and tasty with all the grilling, soups and chilis, but it didn't compare to her Thanksgiving.
As this next first holiday approaches without her physical presence, I am still able to smile because for atleast one day.....maybe more.....we allow ourselves to behave like kids. We all dress up along with our kids, and on Chrissy's last earthly Halloween, she was the mummy. Her health was not good, but she prevailed as she dressed in black, wrapped herself up with gauze and was present for her family. Along with my kids and all the other friends and family that will gather; we will prevail. There is no question that we will, and we are thankful for the memories and for the new ones that we will make. As this week approaches with all our preparations, attending school "fall parties", we will step forward in our new dimension. It isn't without pain, thinking of her absence, but there is also joy in knowing we had fun when she was alive. This holiday holds so much significance.......celebrating our saints and those who have gone before us. There is so much meaning in the day and in this family. As we act like children, I will be reminded of how much she loved this night of dressing up, pretending, decorating and so much more. We children will prevail.......we always do.
"Oh when the saints, go marching on.....oh when the saints go marching on......"
As this next first holiday approaches without her physical presence, I am still able to smile because for atleast one day.....maybe more.....we allow ourselves to behave like kids. We all dress up along with our kids, and on Chrissy's last earthly Halloween, she was the mummy. Her health was not good, but she prevailed as she dressed in black, wrapped herself up with gauze and was present for her family. Along with my kids and all the other friends and family that will gather; we will prevail. There is no question that we will, and we are thankful for the memories and for the new ones that we will make. As this week approaches with all our preparations, attending school "fall parties", we will step forward in our new dimension. It isn't without pain, thinking of her absence, but there is also joy in knowing we had fun when she was alive. This holiday holds so much significance.......celebrating our saints and those who have gone before us. There is so much meaning in the day and in this family. As we act like children, I will be reminded of how much she loved this night of dressing up, pretending, decorating and so much more. We children will prevail.......we always do.
"Oh when the saints, go marching on.....oh when the saints go marching on......"
Monday, October 11, 2010
Distraction....Repetition.....Coping
It's been awhile......I've missed this site, my writing, my outlet, my release. I find peace, resolve, reflection and healing in writing words......these words that are deep within. These past weeks, I have been on a different road.....a road that I don't really want to travel right now, but I know I must in order to enter some of the outside living world.....working this "part-time" job. I like my solitude, my quiet time; it is my journey to travel so please let me live it. In fact, most books I've read say that it's very normal during a grieving process to shut out the world for awhile.....whatever time that might be. It doesn't mean that I'm depressed or needing help. I am sad, I am changed, but it is okay to go within as I am learning about myself, and keeping my few around me. I know you all are out there, even though I may not talk or return a call, but it's how I must cope. I'm growing in my relationship with God and with myself. Some may not understand that journey, and all I can say is that it's my journey to travel. If you want to come aboard, then follow my movements or not. I am trying to learn how to live with the most tragic and painful event of my life. I am forever changed, and I need to do it on my own terms.
In dealing with change, I have taken on this "part time" job which was meant to be a distraction and even a new beginning in living life again, but somehow, it has taken over my daily thoughts. Given my personality, I perseverate on perfecting whatever it is that I do. Some might call it an obsession, OCD.....I don't know.....but I always strive to be the best at whatever I do. As I work with these students; I bring home the emotions and the "work" if you will. It's a transition in my life that I'm trying to balance, not in time management, but I'm learning how to balance the emotions of students and their needs. I didn't anticipate that I would be taken in by so many of their emotional needs along with their educational needs. I keep telling myself that this is where God wants me to be so I must do it. Perhaps I need a repetitive type job like working in a factory line where I do not have to interact so I can work in a productive sense without the "heart". There is healing in repetitive work, atleast there is for me. No doubt, I feel valued and needed where I work, but somehow I feel as though I am forgetting my sister by doing all of this. So in these days that I haven't written there have been many emotions on so many different levels. I think of where we were at this time last year, and I wonder what happened? What the hell happened? Grief does that......it brings us back and forth each and every day. We think we are learning to live, understand, breathe......and then it HITS you all over again.......and the tears flow.
On the day before Chrissy's passing, I thought back on what I was doing.....something so strange....sort of abnormal I suppose. In this craziness of living with the cancer, is anything ever normal again? On the last day before her death, I was moving about her house with confusion, wondering if her last breaths were near. I left her room with the nurse, who would often take her vitals and such. I found myself in and out of her room, talking with her sometimes, "doing" just to keep my mind off of what was fast approaching. We all knew it, but we never spoke it aloud. There I was in my sister's kitchen making candy.........I was making candy. It was December, and it was my hobby, my distraction to make cookies and candy during the holidays. Of course, for Chrissy, my hobby was her trudge. She liked it when I baked those sweets, and she would often be my tester but baking was not something she cared to do herself. Some people have their knitting, crocheting, athletic events or wood working. I have my baking.......it's my escape. I don't always have the time to do it, but when I do, I relax in the routine movements of the task. Crazy to some of you I suppose. It is a stress releaser for me, but still, I thought it strange how I could stand there in her kitchen making candy and cookies. In the back of my mind, I really thought she might have this miracle moment where she would smell my sweets and come to life like Lazarus did. On another level, I thought it might bring some normalcy to a very chaotic, out of control situation. Perhaps baking would keep her here with us.......somehow. Was it possible? I really thought these thoughts in my mind. If she smelled my cookies or candy, which she loved so much, perhaps she would rise out of her bed, taste them and the cancer would miraculously disappear.
Odd as it seems, I was thinking that back then.....a painful, surreal time for me. Only recently have I come to realize that it kept me moving and living, and it prevented me from falling to pieces. Baking was definitely a distraction, a coping method for me. That day I left my sister's house to pick up my kids from school, prepare dinner, and before I went back to her house......I was forming peanut butter balls! How strange is THAT???! There was my sister lying in her bed, and I was rolling peanut butter balls. When I returned that evening, Chrissy's situation had obviously changed, and I knew any minute could be her last......those moments of her final breaths. We all knew it was closing in to that hour, but only minutes before I was preparing sweets! For a while after her death, I crucified myself for doing such trivial things. Without a doubt, I know I spent quality time with her and I am forever grateful for that time. Distraction is necessary sometimes as long as you don't stay there. So as I learn to live again, without her, I do use distraction as a way to cope, and it is okay as long as I don't remain there. It is there in front of me......always in my shadow, constantly in my daily life......her death is still there and I am learning to cope without her.
Be true to yourself, honor those loving hearts around you and give support when it is needed, not when you want to
In dealing with change, I have taken on this "part time" job which was meant to be a distraction and even a new beginning in living life again, but somehow, it has taken over my daily thoughts. Given my personality, I perseverate on perfecting whatever it is that I do. Some might call it an obsession, OCD.....I don't know.....but I always strive to be the best at whatever I do. As I work with these students; I bring home the emotions and the "work" if you will. It's a transition in my life that I'm trying to balance, not in time management, but I'm learning how to balance the emotions of students and their needs. I didn't anticipate that I would be taken in by so many of their emotional needs along with their educational needs. I keep telling myself that this is where God wants me to be so I must do it. Perhaps I need a repetitive type job like working in a factory line where I do not have to interact so I can work in a productive sense without the "heart". There is healing in repetitive work, atleast there is for me. No doubt, I feel valued and needed where I work, but somehow I feel as though I am forgetting my sister by doing all of this. So in these days that I haven't written there have been many emotions on so many different levels. I think of where we were at this time last year, and I wonder what happened? What the hell happened? Grief does that......it brings us back and forth each and every day. We think we are learning to live, understand, breathe......and then it HITS you all over again.......and the tears flow.
On the day before Chrissy's passing, I thought back on what I was doing.....something so strange....sort of abnormal I suppose. In this craziness of living with the cancer, is anything ever normal again? On the last day before her death, I was moving about her house with confusion, wondering if her last breaths were near. I left her room with the nurse, who would often take her vitals and such. I found myself in and out of her room, talking with her sometimes, "doing" just to keep my mind off of what was fast approaching. We all knew it, but we never spoke it aloud. There I was in my sister's kitchen making candy.........I was making candy. It was December, and it was my hobby, my distraction to make cookies and candy during the holidays. Of course, for Chrissy, my hobby was her trudge. She liked it when I baked those sweets, and she would often be my tester but baking was not something she cared to do herself. Some people have their knitting, crocheting, athletic events or wood working. I have my baking.......it's my escape. I don't always have the time to do it, but when I do, I relax in the routine movements of the task. Crazy to some of you I suppose. It is a stress releaser for me, but still, I thought it strange how I could stand there in her kitchen making candy and cookies. In the back of my mind, I really thought she might have this miracle moment where she would smell my sweets and come to life like Lazarus did. On another level, I thought it might bring some normalcy to a very chaotic, out of control situation. Perhaps baking would keep her here with us.......somehow. Was it possible? I really thought these thoughts in my mind. If she smelled my cookies or candy, which she loved so much, perhaps she would rise out of her bed, taste them and the cancer would miraculously disappear.
Odd as it seems, I was thinking that back then.....a painful, surreal time for me. Only recently have I come to realize that it kept me moving and living, and it prevented me from falling to pieces. Baking was definitely a distraction, a coping method for me. That day I left my sister's house to pick up my kids from school, prepare dinner, and before I went back to her house......I was forming peanut butter balls! How strange is THAT???! There was my sister lying in her bed, and I was rolling peanut butter balls. When I returned that evening, Chrissy's situation had obviously changed, and I knew any minute could be her last......those moments of her final breaths. We all knew it was closing in to that hour, but only minutes before I was preparing sweets! For a while after her death, I crucified myself for doing such trivial things. Without a doubt, I know I spent quality time with her and I am forever grateful for that time. Distraction is necessary sometimes as long as you don't stay there. So as I learn to live again, without her, I do use distraction as a way to cope, and it is okay as long as I don't remain there. It is there in front of me......always in my shadow, constantly in my daily life......her death is still there and I am learning to cope without her.
Be true to yourself, honor those loving hearts around you and give support when it is needed, not when you want to
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Wedding Showers Bring.......
As I have said in many entries so far, that every event, each holiday, every vision I see has a new feel to it. Most of the time, it is very awkward, like getting ready to take a test and wondering how it will come out in the end. When I put in God's hands......it's so much better. It's as though the tension is lifted from my being and is taken away in the wind, and my body relaxes. It sounds prophetic, but that's the only way I can describe it. I feel it in my being when I try to handle it all on my own........the emotions, the everyday responsibilities, being a mother, working at my job as a classroom assistant, being a wife...........all of it is new to me. Even as I drive the car, looking at the sky and the treess......it all feels utterly different. It's as though I'm a stranger in the same place I've always been.......it looks so different now. Everyday is a constant battle of telling myself to relax, it's out of my control......God has a reason for my being. Going to a wedding or a baby shower these days is so bittersweet. In one sense it brings me back to life seeing the joy on the faces of those who marry or the mothers-to-be who are expecting the ultimate joy of life - being a mother! On the other hand, I can't help but think of all the dreams and joys my sister and I experienced while planning our weddings and expecting our babies. We supported and talked of all our dreams, our visions for our children, our growing old together. With that being said, that is when the pain kicks in. Don't get me wrong, I am so grateful for my blessings and the joys I have held in my lifetime with my sister and sisters, but perhaps what has been ripped away continues to eat at my gut. All our plans of what we would learn together as moms, do together as sisters...........is not anymore. Atleast, it's not in the way that we had planned. Nothing seems real anymore knowing that at anytime it can all change again......and it will. I know it will.
Today, as I watched another hopeful bride-to-be open her gifts, and we all "ooooohed and ahhhhhhhhed" over all the gifts, that sick feeling entered and it took every part of my being not to run out of there. I had to think of her happiness and not my own sadness. How could I take that away from her? This moment, this day was hers as she was sitting next to her own sister just as I did back in '91. We had all sorts of visions, plans, dreams and hopes. As this young woman faces her new future, I will hold onto my sister and keep in mind what we had. While I make my way, slowly but surely, I will listen for Chrissy's whispers and signs around me to continue on with what we had hoped for our marriage and for our (her) children. I will never loose sight of what she wanted for them. Her marriage vows said, "Until death do us part" and that is and will never be the same for Frank. His life journey is all new, but I know he and the rest of us will uphold her plans for the children. Some days it is more difficult than others to uphold her wishes, but I will not go down without a fight.....fighting for their dreams, their happiness, their goals and their hopes in life. As wedding showers continue on, so will we.
Life is not the way it's supposed to be......it's the way it is. The way we cope with it, is what makes the difference.
Today, as I watched another hopeful bride-to-be open her gifts, and we all "ooooohed and ahhhhhhhhed" over all the gifts, that sick feeling entered and it took every part of my being not to run out of there. I had to think of her happiness and not my own sadness. How could I take that away from her? This moment, this day was hers as she was sitting next to her own sister just as I did back in '91. We had all sorts of visions, plans, dreams and hopes. As this young woman faces her new future, I will hold onto my sister and keep in mind what we had. While I make my way, slowly but surely, I will listen for Chrissy's whispers and signs around me to continue on with what we had hoped for our marriage and for our (her) children. I will never loose sight of what she wanted for them. Her marriage vows said, "Until death do us part" and that is and will never be the same for Frank. His life journey is all new, but I know he and the rest of us will uphold her plans for the children. Some days it is more difficult than others to uphold her wishes, but I will not go down without a fight.....fighting for their dreams, their happiness, their goals and their hopes in life. As wedding showers continue on, so will we.
Life is not the way it's supposed to be......it's the way it is. The way we cope with it, is what makes the difference.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Too Big, Too Small, Just Right
We all have to do it.......that is, if we want to be proactive about our health. A monthly thorough self breast exam and getting a yearly mammogram are a must in today's way. Last week was my time to be checked as all of us need to do. It's our duty for our families, our kids and for ourselves. None of us looks forward to getting a mammogram, but it's one of those trials that are necessary. It doesn't matter whether breast cancer is or isn't in your family. The beast extends its reach to all facets of life - rich, poor, African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian, mature women, young women, full-figured and slender ones, too. There is no discrimination to who this disease touches. Please make those appointments!
I found myself in sort of a weepy mood as all these routines seemed somewhat familiar as I entered the new doors of a breast cancer center only a few minutes from my home. The serene piano was playing, friendly faces greeting me as I entered the door, feelings of awkwardness.....it was an all too familiar scene.....one that brought me back to those visits with Chrissy and her chemo treatments. All sorts of thoughts played through my mind. Thinking about my sissy, her appointments, the waiting, the blood draws.......all that went with our journey was reminiscent in my mind with each part of the process. I sat there patiently as they asked all the same questions that I answered on the phone. Perhaps going over the details with a fine tooth comb is the process, but it was making me more anxious with each question. There has to be an easier, a more efficient, subtle way, other than asking the same questions repeatedly.
As I was being directed to that place, the room with the closet where you put on the hospital gown so that they can prop and pose your breasts in all sorts of directions, my heart began to race. "Oh please, get this over quickly", I whispered to myself. My heart is beating through my chest as I exchange my shirt for the gown with the open tied front. I try to think of a funny joke so that I don't let the tears that I'm holding in my throat begin to burst forward. "Take a deep breath"......."Be a big girl" (Chrissy's phrase)........"Focus on right here in the moment" I tell myself. After five minutes or so, which seemed like half an hour, here walks out a smiling, friendly sort of woman. She directs me to the dungeon and asks a "How are you today? Come right through here." As she situates herself behind the lens, she begins to ask me a few more questions and then IT IS asked, "Has anyone in your family had breast cancer?" She said it....that question.....and now the lump is in my throat, but I hold it together. "Yes, my sister." She busies herself with the equiptment but is talking casually with such a friendly demeanor. She then asks the next dreaded question as she prepares my breast for the pancake fest. "How is your sister doing??"
I prayed for strength, and it came, without a tear I said, "She passed," I whispered. The technician replied with, "I'm so sorry, she must have been very young." Serenely I answered back with, "Yes, she was only forty-one." She continued with the pancake fest moving my puppies every which way but down to the ground. For me, it doesn't hurt as it might for some other women. It's just an awkward feeling, and I think it's different for each and every person depending on their breast size. Chrissy and I had this conversation many times because being the more endowed breast lady, I would have to say it's a bit uncomfortable because a strange woman is pressing, pulling, touching and moving your breasts every which way and then you hold your breath. How fun is that?! For my smaller breasted women friends, they have said that it hurts......perhaps smaller the size, the more painful?? Now this story gets a bit lighter......it is classic......and I know my sissy was rolling over laughing when she heard the final question from this "breast specialist" if you will. I thought our session was finished as she did her thing on both sides of my breasts, when she asked, "Can I ask you something???" My heart sank because for a split second, I thought she saw something on the photos or mammogram. She assured me that all the photos were taken okay, but she had something to ask me.
Here comes the punchline:
"Since our equipment is newer, we are trying to adjust them with just the right measurements and accuracy, and well, if you're okay with it, could I take a couple more photos because your breasts are perfect; they're perfect for making adjustments to our equipment."
Well, my friends, for those of you who have read my previous entries about breasts, you may have caught the one story when Chrissy was trying to choose a size for her new breasts, and you may have an idea of my body image regarding these 46 year old puppies. I've always wanted to get a breast reduction, and when those words passed her lips, I about lost it......but in a funny way. A smile creeped its way upon my shocked face. Who would have thought that I had the perfect boobs for mammogram photography. I replied by saying, "Are you serious......really?" She was serious and I joked that perhaps.......perhaps I could make some money by donating photos of my breasts for science research or for the cause. I truly felt like Goldilocks testing the bears' porridge, except we were talking about my.....well.....my breasts. Too big? Too small?? They're just right!
Remember to get your annual mammogram......don't put it off.
I found myself in sort of a weepy mood as all these routines seemed somewhat familiar as I entered the new doors of a breast cancer center only a few minutes from my home. The serene piano was playing, friendly faces greeting me as I entered the door, feelings of awkwardness.....it was an all too familiar scene.....one that brought me back to those visits with Chrissy and her chemo treatments. All sorts of thoughts played through my mind. Thinking about my sissy, her appointments, the waiting, the blood draws.......all that went with our journey was reminiscent in my mind with each part of the process. I sat there patiently as they asked all the same questions that I answered on the phone. Perhaps going over the details with a fine tooth comb is the process, but it was making me more anxious with each question. There has to be an easier, a more efficient, subtle way, other than asking the same questions repeatedly.
As I was being directed to that place, the room with the closet where you put on the hospital gown so that they can prop and pose your breasts in all sorts of directions, my heart began to race. "Oh please, get this over quickly", I whispered to myself. My heart is beating through my chest as I exchange my shirt for the gown with the open tied front. I try to think of a funny joke so that I don't let the tears that I'm holding in my throat begin to burst forward. "Take a deep breath"......."Be a big girl" (Chrissy's phrase)........"Focus on right here in the moment" I tell myself. After five minutes or so, which seemed like half an hour, here walks out a smiling, friendly sort of woman. She directs me to the dungeon and asks a "How are you today? Come right through here." As she situates herself behind the lens, she begins to ask me a few more questions and then IT IS asked, "Has anyone in your family had breast cancer?" She said it....that question.....and now the lump is in my throat, but I hold it together. "Yes, my sister." She busies herself with the equiptment but is talking casually with such a friendly demeanor. She then asks the next dreaded question as she prepares my breast for the pancake fest. "How is your sister doing??"
I prayed for strength, and it came, without a tear I said, "She passed," I whispered. The technician replied with, "I'm so sorry, she must have been very young." Serenely I answered back with, "Yes, she was only forty-one." She continued with the pancake fest moving my puppies every which way but down to the ground. For me, it doesn't hurt as it might for some other women. It's just an awkward feeling, and I think it's different for each and every person depending on their breast size. Chrissy and I had this conversation many times because being the more endowed breast lady, I would have to say it's a bit uncomfortable because a strange woman is pressing, pulling, touching and moving your breasts every which way and then you hold your breath. How fun is that?! For my smaller breasted women friends, they have said that it hurts......perhaps smaller the size, the more painful?? Now this story gets a bit lighter......it is classic......and I know my sissy was rolling over laughing when she heard the final question from this "breast specialist" if you will. I thought our session was finished as she did her thing on both sides of my breasts, when she asked, "Can I ask you something???" My heart sank because for a split second, I thought she saw something on the photos or mammogram. She assured me that all the photos were taken okay, but she had something to ask me.
Here comes the punchline:
"Since our equipment is newer, we are trying to adjust them with just the right measurements and accuracy, and well, if you're okay with it, could I take a couple more photos because your breasts are perfect; they're perfect for making adjustments to our equipment."
Well, my friends, for those of you who have read my previous entries about breasts, you may have caught the one story when Chrissy was trying to choose a size for her new breasts, and you may have an idea of my body image regarding these 46 year old puppies. I've always wanted to get a breast reduction, and when those words passed her lips, I about lost it......but in a funny way. A smile creeped its way upon my shocked face. Who would have thought that I had the perfect boobs for mammogram photography. I replied by saying, "Are you serious......really?" She was serious and I joked that perhaps.......perhaps I could make some money by donating photos of my breasts for science research or for the cause. I truly felt like Goldilocks testing the bears' porridge, except we were talking about my.....well.....my breasts. Too big? Too small?? They're just right!
Remember to get your annual mammogram......don't put it off.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Her First Birthday
Every first without your loved one in their physical sense is emotional to say the least. So many memories of what was, what is and what is not to be. We try to think only in this moment, right here in time, because the tremendous loss can literally knock you off your feet. With that being said, though, I do stray off the path of my own advice, and that is when I find myself in trouble. I've gone "deaf" in a noisy room when the words spoken seem so trivial and insignificant. It begins to sound like the movement of a train rumbling over the tracks. I feel the rhythm of the voices, but the words permeate right through me. Sometimes I want to scream out, "Do you know that my dearest friend, my little sister, a mother of two young children has died??!" I suppose to the "talkers", what they have to say may seem important at the time, but I find myself impatient with much of today's conversations.....the phony drama that plays out and the superficial behavior from some people. It's such a waste of time! Perhaps that is why I choose my social events very carefully. I tend to avoid familiar crowds if at all possible, but I will go if it's important for me to be there. That may not make sense to some of you, but that's how I survive this. I try to go where the familiar ones truly get it. Most say that they get it, but honestly, only some do. Getting it is opening your eyes to what's around you, empathizing, listening, seeing, holding on to what's important and being true to yourself without pretense. Many go through life not really feeling; rather, they are going through the motions of life without recognizing what really IS. I told Marty the other day that I am a loose cannon......I'm afraid that I might say something shocking to someone as my filter is down. That is when I reach down deep, take a slow breath in and out and focus on the moment at hand asking God to get me there. Wherever there is.
Today, our little Miss Maria, Chrissy's baby girl celebrated her 8th birthday.......her first birthday without her mother. No big family parties today, but later in October we will celebrate, sing and gather around my sister's precious little girl. We'll smile, drink and be "merry", but our hearts will still ache without her presence......missing the direction of when to serve the food, where to open the presents and sharing the joy of this day with her daughter. I say again, it is all different, and it will happen but awkwardly. We'll get through but differently. Words aren't enough to express the immense sadness I feel for both her children when I envision their lives in a new way, without the embrace of their mother. I know how I felt when my mother passed on, and I was in my young twenties, but this little girl is only 8-years old. How can this be? There I go again questioning our higher power......one who knows more than me. Who am I to question this?
The Corrao house was decorated with balloons and colorful writings, treasures layed out to greet her in the morning. I'm sure many birthday messages were delivered throughout the day, and without a doubt she was surrounded by so much love and support, but it will never compare to her mother's touch. Today I watched her play from afar on the school playground.....she didn't know I was there. There in the midst of many second graders was a little girl, enjoying the company of her best friend, smiling; yet, I could sense her anguish as well. In the glory of her day, those near to her can feel the longing.......the longing of a little girl to make that birthday wish that wasn't going to come true except in another life. I waited for her to enter the cafeteria where we ate lunch together, and for a moment I saw a spark in her eyes, feeling utter joy, chosen as the special one in this large group of young people to be the center of attention. We ate and talked of silly bands (colorful bracelets that are like decorative rubber bands) and she pointed to some playful houses pictured on her McDonald's Happy Meal box and she commented, "This is my favorite house, which one is yours?" As I glanced at the one she pointed to, with a lump in my throat; I looked at her and answered, "That's Strawberry Shortcake's House......yes, that's my favorite, too. Do you know why?"
For those of you who remember, Strawberry Shortcake has been one of those sweet, girly characters who has been around for some thirty plus years. She happened to be a favorite character of Chrissy's when she was a little girl. I told Maria of this story and how her mother loved Strawberry Shortcake............ just as I told Chrissy I would do. She didn't want me to idolize her with her children, but I must. If I am to keep her memory alive, I must relay all those qualities about her mother along with all the mischievous ones as well. They will all be said, over time, when the moment presents itself. Maria has to know she had a mother, she was real, she had likes and dislikes and most importantly that her mother wished more than anything that she could still be here, in the sense that her children need her.
The day concluded with her attending a Cardinal's baseball game with her dad, Aunt Susie and Uncle Dave, eating nachos and buying a Build-A-Bear, which by the way, she named Chrissy. She kissed her heart, made a wish and tucked it inside her precious little bear. "It was a great day," she relayed to her loving Aunt Susie, "but it would be perfect if mom could be here, too." More words were spoken that are not meant for this page, but as the saying goes, Only from the mouths of babes. To learn, to grow, to journey for the truth; this soul will mature even through her first birthday.....September 17th.
Like entering a new country, it's going to feel strange
Today, our little Miss Maria, Chrissy's baby girl celebrated her 8th birthday.......her first birthday without her mother. No big family parties today, but later in October we will celebrate, sing and gather around my sister's precious little girl. We'll smile, drink and be "merry", but our hearts will still ache without her presence......missing the direction of when to serve the food, where to open the presents and sharing the joy of this day with her daughter. I say again, it is all different, and it will happen but awkwardly. We'll get through but differently. Words aren't enough to express the immense sadness I feel for both her children when I envision their lives in a new way, without the embrace of their mother. I know how I felt when my mother passed on, and I was in my young twenties, but this little girl is only 8-years old. How can this be? There I go again questioning our higher power......one who knows more than me. Who am I to question this?
The Corrao house was decorated with balloons and colorful writings, treasures layed out to greet her in the morning. I'm sure many birthday messages were delivered throughout the day, and without a doubt she was surrounded by so much love and support, but it will never compare to her mother's touch. Today I watched her play from afar on the school playground.....she didn't know I was there. There in the midst of many second graders was a little girl, enjoying the company of her best friend, smiling; yet, I could sense her anguish as well. In the glory of her day, those near to her can feel the longing.......the longing of a little girl to make that birthday wish that wasn't going to come true except in another life. I waited for her to enter the cafeteria where we ate lunch together, and for a moment I saw a spark in her eyes, feeling utter joy, chosen as the special one in this large group of young people to be the center of attention. We ate and talked of silly bands (colorful bracelets that are like decorative rubber bands) and she pointed to some playful houses pictured on her McDonald's Happy Meal box and she commented, "This is my favorite house, which one is yours?" As I glanced at the one she pointed to, with a lump in my throat; I looked at her and answered, "That's Strawberry Shortcake's House......yes, that's my favorite, too. Do you know why?"
For those of you who remember, Strawberry Shortcake has been one of those sweet, girly characters who has been around for some thirty plus years. She happened to be a favorite character of Chrissy's when she was a little girl. I told Maria of this story and how her mother loved Strawberry Shortcake............ just as I told Chrissy I would do. She didn't want me to idolize her with her children, but I must. If I am to keep her memory alive, I must relay all those qualities about her mother along with all the mischievous ones as well. They will all be said, over time, when the moment presents itself. Maria has to know she had a mother, she was real, she had likes and dislikes and most importantly that her mother wished more than anything that she could still be here, in the sense that her children need her.
The day concluded with her attending a Cardinal's baseball game with her dad, Aunt Susie and Uncle Dave, eating nachos and buying a Build-A-Bear, which by the way, she named Chrissy. She kissed her heart, made a wish and tucked it inside her precious little bear. "It was a great day," she relayed to her loving Aunt Susie, "but it would be perfect if mom could be here, too." More words were spoken that are not meant for this page, but as the saying goes, Only from the mouths of babes. To learn, to grow, to journey for the truth; this soul will mature even through her first birthday.....September 17th.
Like entering a new country, it's going to feel strange
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Whew, Help Me Lord!
This week began a new stepping stone in my life which was one of growth, uncertainty, excitement, fear and yes, still the grief.......it's always there. Like many others who have traveled this journey with me; the emptiness is still felt in the deepest part of my gut. Some days are doable; yet, other days I beg God to help me through.....to focus on all the good that surrounds me. This new turn in my journey.....beginning a new job.......was needed on so many different levels in my life. Given my personality, though, I still question and pose all the "what ifs". What if it's too challenging? What if I can't juggle it in my schedule? What if the children need me? What if I experience one of those moments where I think about her? What do I do then?
Those little things that use to be of importance to me, really aren't anymore, but to some people they still are. What if I look at them with disgust....with their careless, meaningless comments. I don't have patience for some of those comments anymore. What then? Do I pretend? Do I say what I'm really thinking? No I won't because they just don't know. I do not walk in their shoes just as they haven't walked in mine. Nobody knows my story here.......here in this new school. I told myself to take a deep breath, hold on and God would guide me. He wants me here right now for His own purpose. When I lay it out that way, then all my fears subside, and I put my all into it. Last week I was hired as a classroom assistant in an elementary school within our school district. It's location is within 7 minutes of our house, 15 hours a week and I am still able to run errands, volunteer in my own kids' schools and still bring home a few bucks. How much sweeter could it get? Of course, all you full-time working moms are saying, "Oh please, give me a break! Try managing a family with 40 plus hours a week." Well, I have to say, my sanity is more important to me, and I have my limits.
For those of you who are able to make it work......kuddos to you! Something tells me, though, that something has to give. I suppose you weigh what's most important, and other things fall to the wayside. I didn't and don't want that to happen with my own family. Does something have to give in order for life to move......move forward......just move? While so many others are grasping to find jobs these days; this opportunity was a God send. To make the deal even sweeter, my position is directed towards student achievement in reading and writing. For me, it's been one of the most fulfilling opportunities, other than being a mom, to watch student growth, seeing that light bulb go on. Literature, reading and writing are one of my favorite subject areas of all time! This week, I was given the chance to see how the world is moving outside of my own world, and I met some wonderful students along the way. They put smiles on my face. I look at what my family has been through these past few years.....with the waiting, the hopefulness, the disappointments, the struggles, the grief and the tears. Watching my sissy through this ordeal has been one of the toughest struggles of my life. As I figure where I go from here; I move with hesitation. There's always this thing inside me that wonders if I can ever move on from here. Of course, I know this family will never be the same. How can we? One of us isn't here. A mother isn't here to take her children to school and attend all their beautiful plays and performances. A mother is missing when it's time to read them a bedtime story or to kiss them good night. A wife isn't cooking the daily meals and offering companionship to her Frank. A sister isn't on the other end of the phone, laughing and talking into the night about all the things we use to talk about. It's all different. This week, still with butterflies in my gut, I ask God these questions: "Who is it that you want me to be? What is Your plan for my life?
The question I still ask myself is this, "Am I leaving her behind in doing this?" Am I leaving my sissy behind? I feel as though I am, and there's a pang in my gut in all this movement. Some might think that's crazy, but for those of you who have lost a loved one, you know what I mean, don't you? These recent months, I tell myself that if a job presented itself to me, then it was meant to be. God must think I'm ready, even though I feel as though I'm not. Marty can vouch for my apprehension in all this as it brought about some conflict between the two of us. I compare it to this......like going to your Ob/Gyn.........nobody wants to do it or looks forward to it......but you must. God knows we all need to go there, but none of us likes it, and we know it's for the best. This week....this job.......was for the best. I have met some people out of my circle of closeness, and perhaps one day it will feel totally comfortable. It took so much effort, and all the people I met were extremely kind, supportive and energetic. As I take new steps in a different direction, I take deep breaths and look to my Higher Power for guidance, looking for hope and strength in this new day. A new day that perhaps will lead me to greater understanding and purpose.
On this day, when so many people reminisce about their lost loved ones.....the ones who died in the 911 day of horror, I ask God this: "Help us get through the madness." For those who had a loved one die on this day nine years ago, I am so sorry for your loss. Your lives changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was it a loss for our country, but the world since then has been different. I still believe we are all lost.....hopeful.....but lost. My prayer today is to ask God to help us all make it through. To my sister, I ask for your continued spiritual guidance to help me guide your children with their loss wherever it is needed. I know you're still beside me.......
Help me know what to do, say and be in order to give You glory
Those little things that use to be of importance to me, really aren't anymore, but to some people they still are. What if I look at them with disgust....with their careless, meaningless comments. I don't have patience for some of those comments anymore. What then? Do I pretend? Do I say what I'm really thinking? No I won't because they just don't know. I do not walk in their shoes just as they haven't walked in mine. Nobody knows my story here.......here in this new school. I told myself to take a deep breath, hold on and God would guide me. He wants me here right now for His own purpose. When I lay it out that way, then all my fears subside, and I put my all into it. Last week I was hired as a classroom assistant in an elementary school within our school district. It's location is within 7 minutes of our house, 15 hours a week and I am still able to run errands, volunteer in my own kids' schools and still bring home a few bucks. How much sweeter could it get? Of course, all you full-time working moms are saying, "Oh please, give me a break! Try managing a family with 40 plus hours a week." Well, I have to say, my sanity is more important to me, and I have my limits.
For those of you who are able to make it work......kuddos to you! Something tells me, though, that something has to give. I suppose you weigh what's most important, and other things fall to the wayside. I didn't and don't want that to happen with my own family. Does something have to give in order for life to move......move forward......just move? While so many others are grasping to find jobs these days; this opportunity was a God send. To make the deal even sweeter, my position is directed towards student achievement in reading and writing. For me, it's been one of the most fulfilling opportunities, other than being a mom, to watch student growth, seeing that light bulb go on. Literature, reading and writing are one of my favorite subject areas of all time! This week, I was given the chance to see how the world is moving outside of my own world, and I met some wonderful students along the way. They put smiles on my face. I look at what my family has been through these past few years.....with the waiting, the hopefulness, the disappointments, the struggles, the grief and the tears. Watching my sissy through this ordeal has been one of the toughest struggles of my life. As I figure where I go from here; I move with hesitation. There's always this thing inside me that wonders if I can ever move on from here. Of course, I know this family will never be the same. How can we? One of us isn't here. A mother isn't here to take her children to school and attend all their beautiful plays and performances. A mother is missing when it's time to read them a bedtime story or to kiss them good night. A wife isn't cooking the daily meals and offering companionship to her Frank. A sister isn't on the other end of the phone, laughing and talking into the night about all the things we use to talk about. It's all different. This week, still with butterflies in my gut, I ask God these questions: "Who is it that you want me to be? What is Your plan for my life?
The question I still ask myself is this, "Am I leaving her behind in doing this?" Am I leaving my sissy behind? I feel as though I am, and there's a pang in my gut in all this movement. Some might think that's crazy, but for those of you who have lost a loved one, you know what I mean, don't you? These recent months, I tell myself that if a job presented itself to me, then it was meant to be. God must think I'm ready, even though I feel as though I'm not. Marty can vouch for my apprehension in all this as it brought about some conflict between the two of us. I compare it to this......like going to your Ob/Gyn.........nobody wants to do it or looks forward to it......but you must. God knows we all need to go there, but none of us likes it, and we know it's for the best. This week....this job.......was for the best. I have met some people out of my circle of closeness, and perhaps one day it will feel totally comfortable. It took so much effort, and all the people I met were extremely kind, supportive and energetic. As I take new steps in a different direction, I take deep breaths and look to my Higher Power for guidance, looking for hope and strength in this new day. A new day that perhaps will lead me to greater understanding and purpose.
On this day, when so many people reminisce about their lost loved ones.....the ones who died in the 911 day of horror, I ask God this: "Help us get through the madness." For those who had a loved one die on this day nine years ago, I am so sorry for your loss. Your lives changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was it a loss for our country, but the world since then has been different. I still believe we are all lost.....hopeful.....but lost. My prayer today is to ask God to help us all make it through. To my sister, I ask for your continued spiritual guidance to help me guide your children with their loss wherever it is needed. I know you're still beside me.......
Help me know what to do, say and be in order to give You glory
Sunday, September 5, 2010
You'll Never Know How Much She Loved You
This past Saturday, on a most beautiful, breezy, sunny, heartfelt day, I attended a funeral memorial mass for a dear friend. Her best friend since the age of two said to her children during the eulogy for her, "You'll never know how much your mother loved you until you have children of your own." I'm sure words of love were and are still exchanged often in their house, but there is a greater understanding of love when we are given the gift of children. Of course all of us love and feel love from time to time, but from a parent and more specifically a mother's perspective, we are like mother elephants as Val would say. Our friend, Patti, was a mother elephant. She not only cherished her own children, but she protected and cared for other children as if they were her own. There is no greater love than a parent to a child......in most cases that is.
That statement hits home with me as I feel it with my own children as well as with Maria and Frankie. There was never a doubt in my mind that our mom loved us..... way more than herself. In this life of ours, we go through many stages of love, certainly all dependent on our age and maturity, our aspirations, our character and most importantly our relationship life experiences. When my mother passed, I thought the world had ended and how was I to continue on in this world. I had recently graduated from college, and I didn't have a strong clue as to where I wanted to head with my life. Mom's death, certainly inevitible given her health situation; yet, it was still a shock the night it happened. Mom overcame so much physical suffering in her life; it's hard to imagine how she pulled through it all. It occurred to me when I had my own children that her perseverance was all about us. She survived as long as she did for US just as Chrissy had for her own children.
We've all heard in the newspapers and on television horrific stories of mothers killing their children, and as mothers we find it incomprehensible. How could such an offense be possible knowing what WE know and feel as mothers? A father hurting his children is outrageous, but somehow a mother doing the same is unforgiveable. As parents we always want to give more and do more for our own children. That's not to say that our parents didn't try their best. I'm sure my parents were always striving to do more for us than what they were given. My mother use to say that dad would read books on child rearing which shows me he tried. When we were young, I didn't think about the sacrifices and choices my parents had to make for us. Back then I didn't understand some of their choices for "consequences", but as I raise my own.....I understand. Once I had my own children, I appreciate and love my parents even more. Many a night, I pray to my parents telling them "thank you" and to help guide me. Thanking them for their undying devotion to help me become the person that I am and hope to be. When we're young, we aren't as grateful for the roof over our heads and the food on the table. All of us have heard of the poor starving children in Africa or whatever third world country your family chose. All of us have been disciplined in some fashion, and back then we didn't like it or understand it sometimes. Watching Chrissy go through her struggles and choices brought back all those memories way back when, but in a different light. How difficult it must have been for my parents to learn of their test results, having five children, wondering if God would bring them home or keep them here to care for us.
I don't know a lot of answers to this earthly world in which we live, and perhaps it isn't for me to know but to believe and hope for better. Whether here in this physical realm or there in the heavenly world.......it's all about love, hope and faith. I know now how much you must have loved us, mom and dad, and as I parent my own children, I pray that I will give it my all. If not today, perhaps someday my children will realize how much I love them. It will not depend on how many times I say the words, " I love you" on a daily basis; rather, by example and life experiences they will learn a parent's love for their child when they have children of their own. For Maria and Frankie, you'll know one day, too, how much your mother loved you. She did it for you, too. If you don't have children of your own.....I will tell you. I will never stop telling you how much you both meant to her. She was a mother who lived for her children. She still lives for you......she lives in your hearts.
There is no greater love than a mother's love for her children
That statement hits home with me as I feel it with my own children as well as with Maria and Frankie. There was never a doubt in my mind that our mom loved us..... way more than herself. In this life of ours, we go through many stages of love, certainly all dependent on our age and maturity, our aspirations, our character and most importantly our relationship life experiences. When my mother passed, I thought the world had ended and how was I to continue on in this world. I had recently graduated from college, and I didn't have a strong clue as to where I wanted to head with my life. Mom's death, certainly inevitible given her health situation; yet, it was still a shock the night it happened. Mom overcame so much physical suffering in her life; it's hard to imagine how she pulled through it all. It occurred to me when I had my own children that her perseverance was all about us. She survived as long as she did for US just as Chrissy had for her own children.
We've all heard in the newspapers and on television horrific stories of mothers killing their children, and as mothers we find it incomprehensible. How could such an offense be possible knowing what WE know and feel as mothers? A father hurting his children is outrageous, but somehow a mother doing the same is unforgiveable. As parents we always want to give more and do more for our own children. That's not to say that our parents didn't try their best. I'm sure my parents were always striving to do more for us than what they were given. My mother use to say that dad would read books on child rearing which shows me he tried. When we were young, I didn't think about the sacrifices and choices my parents had to make for us. Back then I didn't understand some of their choices for "consequences", but as I raise my own.....I understand. Once I had my own children, I appreciate and love my parents even more. Many a night, I pray to my parents telling them "thank you" and to help guide me. Thanking them for their undying devotion to help me become the person that I am and hope to be. When we're young, we aren't as grateful for the roof over our heads and the food on the table. All of us have heard of the poor starving children in Africa or whatever third world country your family chose. All of us have been disciplined in some fashion, and back then we didn't like it or understand it sometimes. Watching Chrissy go through her struggles and choices brought back all those memories way back when, but in a different light. How difficult it must have been for my parents to learn of their test results, having five children, wondering if God would bring them home or keep them here to care for us.
I don't know a lot of answers to this earthly world in which we live, and perhaps it isn't for me to know but to believe and hope for better. Whether here in this physical realm or there in the heavenly world.......it's all about love, hope and faith. I know now how much you must have loved us, mom and dad, and as I parent my own children, I pray that I will give it my all. If not today, perhaps someday my children will realize how much I love them. It will not depend on how many times I say the words, " I love you" on a daily basis; rather, by example and life experiences they will learn a parent's love for their child when they have children of their own. For Maria and Frankie, you'll know one day, too, how much your mother loved you. She did it for you, too. If you don't have children of your own.....I will tell you. I will never stop telling you how much you both meant to her. She was a mother who lived for her children. She still lives for you......she lives in your hearts.
There is no greater love than a mother's love for her children
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