Author Archives: Wendy Lee

And Grief trickles in…

Grief trickles in. Yes, it does.

Unexpectedly, I have a night alone with Brayden. Jamie (my oldest) invited DJ (my next oldest) to his home for the night…and Mackenzie (my only daughter)was invited over a friend’s house for the evening. There go my sitters for my tentative plans…and here goes a night home, just me and my littlest.

Cool. We will do dinner and a movie. Done. Bedtime lasted about two hours longer than the norm…but he’s sound asleep…finally.

My goal, after Bray’s bedtime, was to put in a movie and pour a glass of wine. The chick flick I planned on was more of a “get your tissues ready and have a good cry” kinda flick.

Grief trickled in. I have been so worried and consumed with what is going on with Matt and his battle with cancer, I’ve allowed no time for worrying about anything else. It felt good to let it go. I actually forgot the grief was there. It’s there, it always is, bubbling at the surface and it unexpectedly started boiling over without warning.

When you lose someone you truly love, the grief is always there…I am learning it just comes out differently and at different times. I am happy I am with someone who is willing to stand by me with that bit of instability as a part of who I now am. Who shows no fear or jealousy of that past love.

Thanks, Matt, for getting me through when it “trickles” in. Now, off to find a happier chick flick…

It’s that time again…

It’s September 9th, 2014.  Two years ago on September 9th it was the last time I had a conversation with Mike. It was a Sunday morning and I had just pulled into the driveway after going to church.  The kids all got out of the car, except Brayden…he stayed in his car seat until I let him escape after my phone call.  The conversation went pretty much the same as they all did at that point.

Him: “Wendy, I want to come home”, “Why are you doing this to us”, “The kids want me there”, “I love you”.

Me: “No”, “YOU did this”, “Course they want you here, they love you”, “I love you, too”….”Get sober and you can come home…like a year sober”.

Sometimes it ended there.  That Sunday it got a little heated, not yelling and screaming heated, but I was angry.  He wasn’t visiting.  He wasn’t paying any support.

My last words?  “If I wasn’t around, Brayden would just die in his crib, you are doing nothing to care for or support your son”. (Yes, pretty extreme, I know.)

His response? “I love you, Wendy”.

He hung up.

That was it.

I went about my day.  Went to the grocery store just before dinner time.  Upon leaving the grocery store…at the lights in front of what is now Domino’s…my phone rang.  It was Alyssa.  I answered and had to tell her to slow down because I couldn’t understand her.  “Daddy’s at the hospital, he wasn’t breathing when they got there” she was finally able to get out enough for me to comprehend.  She was referring to the ambulance and paramedics. That’s all I really recall of the conversation.  I am sure I comforted her and said I’d be right there.

That sentence “Daddy’s at the hospital, he wasn’t breathing when they got there” was a chant that I heard over and over and over.  All the way home.  While I was home getting care for the kids.  All the way to the hospital.

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The rest of September 9th, 2012 was spent at the ICU…as well as the 10th…and we said goodbye on the 11th.

This is the second time I am recognizing this anniversary of the 9th, our last conversation.  A hard pill to swallow when they are words like that.

It’s not easy, but it’s definitely easier.  I am so thankful that I am in a much better place in my healing.  I thank the person responsible for that on a regular basis.

We miss him and it hurts to know he can’t experience everything I get to about the kids growing and see all that they are doing.  It’s hard know they won’t experience his goofiness or sense of humor anymore.  We will just keep doing what we are doing and that’s continue to re-tell his funny stories and antics, keeping his spirit alive. That always brings smiles and laughter.  Peace, Mike.

 

Clearing the Blog Fog…

us

I sit here with all sorts of thoughts running through my head (which if you know me…is pretty typical) and not sure what direction to go in for a blog. I just knew it was time to write.

I re-read my “about me” section this morning and over the past few weeks have visited some of my older posts. It’s fun (and a little scary) to look back and see where my head was at on those days and at those times. I’m glad I get to see my journey and growth through grief and dating dilemmas sprinkled with who I am at the core, a Mommy…with a passion for cooking.

I am happy to say (ok, more like ecstatic) that my dating is now not a dilemma…and my grief and pain is being lessened and eased. This man who was right under my nose has unexpectedly put his arms around me and made me feel, for the first time in my adult life, that I have someone to lean on. Lean on and not fall flat on my face. Safe. Effortlessly he is healing wounds that I thought were just a part of who I was and learned to just carry on with. There is no possible way I can fully describe how that feels.

Our relationship is still new. Filled with butterflies in the tummy and goodnight kisses that last hours.  Filled with laughter.  Lots of laughter.  Filled with learning what each other likes and dislikes, wants and needs. Funny, we spent the early weeks after our first tequila tainted kiss getting to know each other by texting question after question. We wanted to know everything about each other. How do you like your eggs? Steak? Coffee? Movie type? Beach or lake? Mayo or mustard? Hours and hours of this. I think we know more about each other than many people dating years.

Our relationship is also mature. We have been catapulted into squeezing as much as we can into the times that we have. Between chemo treatments and obvious side effects and looking at a date in September that is going to drastically change things for a time. We are left with a seriousness and a fast track in our bonding. Again, effortlessly. It’s allowing me to see how this sweetest and sincerest man I know can handle such adversity…and it’s pretty impressive. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the softness and strength that exists at the same time within the same person.

This September date coming up will be a Stem Cell Transplant. The Cure. Buh-bye Leukemia. I knew nothing about this procedure before…and it’s still something I am gathering information about as I go. I also realize that there are not a whole lot of blogs about it and what’s out there is a lot of medical mumbo-jumbo that an inexperienced person like me doesn’t fully understand (Wheels spinning… cancerdotcalm.com?). I am happy I will be joining him to the next big visits so I can understand a little better…both what he will go through and what to expect.

So, I guess where my blog was going is that I found a love I didn’t know existed in a man that already existed in my life. He is doing incredible things for me and has incredible things to go through. Our love story isn’t perfect, but it’s perfectly okay (I’ll say this a million times).  He’s got this. We’ve got this.

The Beginning of a Love Story

28Life gaurdLifegaurd (Love) Shack, Short Sands, York, ME

I know with that headline in my blog…those reading are probably expecting a sarcastic little article here or think I am referring to one of my children.  However, (clearing my throat) I actually did meet a guy.  Well, technically, I have known him for years.  And technically again, I have met a lot of guys.  This guy, though, has not sent me running for the hills in a panic nor has he left me scratching my head wondering what the hell just happened as he darts off to a tropical location with his girlfriend and/or wife (Yes, two different guys, same experience…I never got to blog about. I assure you that both men were “unattached”, or so they said, when an interest was sparked). Anyway, back to the Love Story.

It’s only been a short time.  A very short time. But something’s different here.  And I mean different in the absolute best possible way imaginable.  And I also mean different in the absolute worst possible way imaginable.

Today he is in his hospital room at what we call the “Hotel” Mass General in Boston.  He and round three of chemo in one corner, Leukemia in the other.  He is fighting one hell of a fight.  The big “C” doesn’t stand a chance.

The beginning of our Love Story isn’t perfect, but that’s perfectly fine.  I am not sure if this is just going to be a summer romance that fizzles out, a love story turns horror story…or if it will be our Happily Ever After.  We both have broken roads that led us to where we are today…because of that we cherish every minute and don’t sweat the small stuff.  Pretty good combination if you ask me.

The following is a glimpse into the very Beginning of a Love Story.  Ours.

A Daddy and His Boy

My oldest child, Jamie, and his wife, Emily, had come over to dinner last week armed with an ipod chock full of pictures and videos of Brayden as a baby…and his Daddy, Michael. Most that read this know that Mike died about a year and a 1/2 ago now and although I have quite a few pictures, I didn’t possess a video. Jamie’s plan was to send me the videos, so I knew this video was being sent to me (the 1st of many, I hope!). Because of this I had a blog ready to write. However, no matter how many times I watch this video…I can’t do anything but stare in amazement that I finally have a moment captured that Bray will be able to cherish forever…and nothing else I can or will write matters (while Mom is wiping a tear or two away). The obvious love this Daddy had for this happy little baby, just as the love this baby had for his Daddy, is now captured concretely. It won’t replace being there for birthdays, being there on sidelines for sports, or whatever monumental milestones that may come along…but Bray will now SEE that when Daddy was on this earth with him…his Daddy ADORED him! That’s all I got for now.

“You’re such a good Mom!!!”

I sometimes cringe when I hear that.  I know I am hard on myself…harder than I have to be, I know, I know.  But I look around and see the other things Moms (and Dads) are doing for their kids that I am just not getting to. It’s hard not to feel like a you are falling short.  What makes a good Mom?

My kids are fed well, kind of a passion of mine.  Ask them. I could crumble like a cookie at the thought that they might be hungry (like for a snack…not malnourished) or didn’t have healthy food offered.  I have no idea where this obsession comes from.  You’d think I had been starved as a child, but I was provided for very well…I am just kind of nuts when it comes to this.  I remember Mackenzie coming home with her lunch still in her lunch box on her first day of kindergarten.  She didn’t know to grab it at lunch time from the class and went to the cafeteria without it.  I think someone gave her a snack or something…but I will never forget that feeling of panic that she was sitting there hungry while the others ate!  It stayed with me for days and days.  I’ve chilled a bit since then…but bottom line is my kids are well nourished with square meals.

My kids are loved.  I don’t need to get too much into this.  I love them, they love me.  Most the time anyway.  I enjoy their company and we do fun things.  Not like Disney or trips to the Grand Canyon or touring Europe, but we fly kites, go for hikes and enjoy beaches and picnics.  You know, free stuff.

They are clothed.  Clean clothes.  Despite my constant attempts to do laundry…I am always behind.  They have their favorite jeans and favorite shirts…and I will make sure they are cleaned and folded for them.  Who am I kidding, sometimes they are folded…if not they are “in the dryer or in the basket in front of it”. That’s almost always the answer to “Mom!  Where are my skinny jeans?!”.  My own laundry gets done eventually…but not today.  To prove it I am wearing my own skinny jeans…commando.   Yup.  Not one pair of underwear clean.  Not the boy shorts I reserve for “that week” or my pretty thongs.  When you saw Momma today rocking these skinny jeans and riding boots…no undies. Thankfully, my Friday night date cancelled so I can catch up on my laundry…I’ll be wearing underwear tomorrow.

Now those are the basics.  Check, check, check.

Beyond that is where I struggle.  The frills.  When I say frills I mean that rooms are tidy and organized.  Carpets are replaced (or better, hard wood floors are present) because they are the same ones since the house was built.  All the chores are done.  The lawn is mowed…weed whacking done and hedges trimmed.   Garden weeded and mulch is in place.  The driveway is newly sealed and the pool is open and cleaned.  The basement is organized so it’s not chaos to go into…and the shed door would be fixed and re-attached. Now that all that is done, more frills would be a double income so that vacations would be had,  bills would be paid on time and there would be a vehicle that’s not falling apart before our eyes in that newly sealed driveway!

Frills.  I feel a really good Mom gives those things to her kids.

Meanwhile, I was observing the kids tonight.  My 3 year old was proudly chewing with his mouth closed and wiping pizza sauce off his cheek with a NAPKIN (not his shoulder or sleeve!). I see my 12 year old including her little bro in a game of hide and seek with her friends to keep him happy, unasked.  I witness my 15 year old branching out with his friends and politely and respectfully arguing his point that he is now old enough and mature enough to be handling the responsibility he is asking for, and proving he is right.  I see my adult son taking his wife on a date night this evening, making her happy…and she, herself, wishing me a fantastic day out of the blue earlier.  Not too shabby for not having too many of the frills.

For now, I will plug away and feed, love and clothe my kids….and get to the frills when I possibly can…hopefully with clean underwear.

 

 

 

Asian Style Sloppy Joe’s

Asian Style Sloppy Joe's

This was AMAZING!!!! I only changed that I served it on sweet multi-grain rolls to keep it more healthy! Will definitely make this again. Also, there is a related “2nd” recipe I will make that follows this to use up the sauce and cabbage for a time and money saving dinner of stuffed cabbage rolls. I will post that if it is worthy 🙂

Ingredients
Sauce:
One 15-ounce can tomato sauce
1/4 cup low-sodium soy sauce
1/4 cup light brown sugar
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 teaspoon chopped garlic
1 teaspoon chopped ginger
1 teaspoon hot sauce
Sloppy Joes:
2 teaspoons canola oil
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced
1 pound ground pork
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 small head green cabbage
4 hamburger buns, toasted

Directions
For the sauce: In a bowl, whisk together the tomato sauce, soy sauce, brown sugar, tomato paste, vinegar, garlic, ginger and hot sauce until blended. Reserve 1/2 cup for the Round 2 Recipe Stuffed Cabbage Rolls, or another use. Set the rest of the sauce aside.

For the sloppy joes: In a large skillet over medium heat, add the oil. When it is hot, add the onions and peppers and cook until they are soft, about 5 minutes. Push the vegetables to one side of the pan and add the ground pork. Break up any lumps and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cook until the pork is lightly browned, about 5 minutes. If there is a lot of fat in the pan, spoon some of it out and discard.

Add the sauce to the pan, bring to a simmer and cook until the pork mixture has thickened but is still a bit loose, about 15 minutes. Reserve 1 cup of the mixture for the Round 2 Recipe Stuffed Cabbage Rolls, or another use.

To serve, remove 2 leaves from the cabbage, roll them up like a cigar and slice into very thin strips. Reserve the remaining cabbage for the Round 2 Recipe Stuffed Cabbage Rolls, or another use. Divide the sloppy joe mixture onto the hamburger buns. Garnish with the sliced cabbage. Top with the bun tops and serve immediately.

“So, what are you looking for?”

If I had a dime…

I have been asked that question more times than I have ever cared to.  It’s the “first date” question.  I admit that I have asked it, too.  Many, many times.

My answer is usually the same. “I don’t know, but I know what I am NOT looking for”.  “Good answer” is typically what I am told.  And it is a good answer.  I have been around the block enough to know my dislikes.  Dishonesty, unfaithfulness, disrespect, impatience, recklessness, substance abuse…a pretty typical list if you ask me.  That was enough for me because I didn’t know what I wanted really looked like.  I couldn’t envision it.  I just knew the dark cloud behind me, what that looked like and that I didn’t want that hovering over my head.  Ever.  Again.

My fear of that cloud actually sent me running from a few folks earlier than needed, I think…but still necessarily.  I have touched on that before…the “red flag thrower”.

Recently, though, I have been able to see what I DO want and what I AM looking for.  I don’t know if it is because of the company I am keeping or the part of the healing process I am in…but I kinda like it. A good friend posted last night in a Facebook status something relative to what I am speaking of…and that’s what got me thinking about this.  More and more friends were adding to her comments about what a girl should look for in a man.   Then I saw this photo on another random news feed.

Image

Now this doesn’t just apply for what you want in a man…this applies to friendships, too.  Which got me thinking again.  Friendships.  So many couple relationships that are working that I get to look at from my single-woman eyes have one common item linking them.  They are friends. Simply friends. They are not on romantic escapes, getting drowned in flowers, gushing that they are being showered with over the top gifts…those things are nice perks here and there, don’t get me wrong…but that is not the focus.  When someone is going over the top for you…eventually they will tire and the “specialness” will subside…then where are you? That solid friendship foundation is crucial.

I am beginning to see what I am looking for.  A friend. Someone who makes me laugh whether or not they are trying to. Someone who continuously surprises me, again, even if it’s without effort.  Someone who has the ability to make me feel safe and comfortable simply by being themselves.  Someone who genuinely wants what’s best for me.  Don’t doubt for a second I want that wrapped in someone who makes my heart flutter  when seeing them…even if just in a picture.  Someone I long to be with when they are not with me.  Someone I admire and respect as a person and one who thinks of me the same.   I no longer wonder if I will find that “right for me” person…because I am now learning what I am searching for…which means I can now see it when it is in front of me.

I finally have an answer to that silly question.

Through the eyes of a child…

I went out to start my Easter shopping yesterday…yes, yesterday.  Between a back “issue” and a stomach bug plaguing the house this past week, I was left the day before Easter battling Walmart. Ugh.  On my list was to find a book about the meaning of Easter for Brayden(my 3 year old).  After a few trying moments throughout the store I had found myself at the “Easter book” section.  Thumbing through books of Peter Cottontail and various other bunny books, I came across a book about Heaven.  It was geared toward “little ones”  and as I was reading through it…I was suddenly feeling it very heavy that my three year old had heard the term “heaven” a whole lot…and I am sure that he had NO idea what we all were talking about when we said that’s where Daddy is…other than it lies somewhere above the clouds we point at when telling him.  Matter of fact, it occurred to me when the next book I picked up “Daddy is my Hero”…that he probably has no idea what a Daddy is! The guy in all the pictures that we all look fondly at, but in reality he likely has no memory of being with and adored by.  I put the Daddy book back on the shelf, but put the Heaven book in my cart…

Bray at falls

(Bray at the Falls, Easter Sunday ’14, where part of Daddy’s ashes were spread)

 

The night continued on as expected…chaos and fun..and then all the kids were in bed.  It was time to get everything together for Easter Morning.  I (shockingly, cough) checked in at the computer…likely to update a facebook status or check in on my newsfeed…when I noticed a folded over paper with text on it to the left of the monitor.  I am not sure which kid had been reading it and left it there, I haven’t asked.  I honestly never knew it existed in that form before that night.  The only time I read the words on that paper were, first, by Mackenzie’s English teacher…who sent it to me by email attachment so that I had a chance to absorb what Mackenzie had written before she brought it home in her final report.  And then second, by her report she actually brought home…in which I was eternally grateful to the teacher who gave me a heads up and a few weeks notice to figure out what my reaction would be!

The following is a narrative of a ten year old girl who is about to, and does, lose her father figure.  It doesn’t speak of Heaven or where he goes…that’s something she and I talk about often, but is not in print. Between the books at Walmart and the narrative I stepped upon, I couldn’t help but think about the children, at all different stages, that Michael left behind. A 1 year old, a 10 year old, an 11 year old, a 13 year old, a 16  year old and a 20 year old.  Not all by blood, but all his children and lives he deeply impacted.  It’s hard to comprehend what these children think about in these times and how they process everything.

I am blessed that my daughter’s assignment that very Fall was to write about something important that has happened in her life.  This was an important tool in her healing.  I have shared this with a few close to me…along with the named “Allison” (who was AMAZING) and with Mackenzie’s permission I am sharing it here:

 

Kenzbray falls

(Mackenzie and Brayden viewing the falls)

 

The Hospital
by:Mackenzie Clark
My step dad got very sick and went to the hospital. My mom went first. Then the next day after Dj’s football game we went to the hospital to visit him. When we got there it was very quiet in the waiting room. Then a girl named Alison came and talked to to me and Dj about a lot of the machines and what is happening. Then while we were waiting she gave us things to do like a container with sports stuff and you try to find them all and if you find the penny you get 1$. We didn’t find it though, there was also coloring and playing with dough. Then it was time for us to go in. When we got in it was very sad there was so many machines helping him breathe, stuff to feed him, his heart rate and a really cool one it takes out his blood and cleans it out and puts it back into him and he was very swollen but really warm. I gave him a card and one of the nurses read it to him . And I got very sad when I walked in. After that we left but I didn’t want to leave him. When we got home and we said a prayer for him to get better. The next day we went back and visited him again. We had to wait a little again but Alison came in again before we could go in. Alison came in and gave me some play dough to take in to squeeze. When we got in there it was still very sad. And one of our pastors came in to say a prayer to Mike. After that me and Dj went with Alison into her room for kids. Me and Dj made a poster type thing and we wrote stuff and then we went to one of the rooms and got wet toilet paper and would throw it at it and it wash those bad memories away and it wash those things away and it made me feel good. After that we picked up the toilet paper and water. Then we went back to Alison’s room . And my mom was there and I left but Dj stayed cause I think he was embarrassed to cry in front of other people so he stayed with Alison while  we went back to visit Mike. When we got there was a priest he said a prayer and then he left. After that this was my very last goodbye to him so I wanted to to stay in their for a long time and we did, and I had to my squishy ball thing that calms me down a little when we go in there. I squished it really hard and gave him a hug and a kiss then we had to leave then it looked like there was 20 machines! Trying to help him it was a little scary but I tried to stay there as long as possible and we had to leave every now and then for other people to come in. So we kinda went back in forth . But we took a little break so we could kinda breathe from all the crying so much and we went in and out of the room and into the waiting room. I wanted to talk to Kyle and Alyssa, Mike’s children. But I usually see Alyssa every Sunday for cheerleading. But sometimes I look over and shes crying . But then it was our very last good bye I gave Mike the biggest hug I have ever given him and a kiss. And said bye to Kyle and Alyssa. And we all left. Then me, Dj, Jamie, Emily, Zach left . So we went to Mcdonalds and I texted my bff Gabby and she knew Mike for a long time, we even did his makeup and nails once and we didn’t have nail polish remover, but she was sad. So we finished and went home and watched a movie and I watched the Smurfs and we had popcorn and lots and lots of candy! Then my movie was over and my mom came home and Mike was gone he didn’t even struggle it was only like 5 seconds and his breaths got smaller and smaller and smaller then his whole body stopped. Then he was gone and it was the saddest thing ever but I keep one picture in my bag and 2 on my wall and Mike will always be in my heart forever. 
falls
(Michael and oldest son Kyle at the falls, Gonic Trails in 2011)

A little letter to heaven…

pond

Dear Mike,

I have not written you a letter since you’ve been gone (just over a year and a 1/2 now), but so much about you is surfacing and the void you’ve left is feeling super strong lately.  I miss you and wish you were able to experience the milestones and highlights with all the kids that I am getting to.

April Fool’s Day was just a few days ago…and the pranks that the kids were playing on me could only remind me of the influence you had on them.  Always a prankster and never letting an opportunity go by to joke and play with someone.  There’s no way I can explain that trait to someone who didn’t know you. It was a unique sense of humor and charming way about it that made everyone smile and laugh…with you and at themselves.

Jamie watched Brayden last Thursday while I went to work…which was a savior!  He asked if around the house we talk about you a lot.  I just shrugged. Yes, we do.  Usually more when Jamie is visiting!  He said he took Bray for a walk and they chatted.  Bray started pointing to the sky saying that’s where Daddy lives and that you drove a black truck.  Weird. We never have talked about what you drove (illegally)…but the black truck was obviously it…I’m still scratching my head on that one.

Mackenzie and I were at her cheering competition yesterday.  She pointed to the “box” seating at the Whittemore Center.  “Me and Mike snuck in there when he was here with us”.  All smiles, fond memories.  “We weren’t supposed to be in there”.  A little evil giggle ensued.

Mike height

You are everywhere Michael.  I was putting around the kitchen this morning and put something away in the pantry closet (that you temporarily took the doors off…that still do not have doors!).  I noticed the “growing chart” you created on the trim of the door jam documenting names and dates and little pencil lines that note how tall the kids were at that point in time.  You never got to make an entry for Bray…but at the top is a “Mike 4/06”.  I am not sure I ever noticed it before today.  In April of 2006 you stood in that spot, undoubtedly with little ones looking up at you watching you show how “big” you were.  The grief and pain that hit me at that point, standing in the kitchen, was so sudden and sharp I though I was going to be sick.  I tried to imagine, if that was the top of your head, where your eyes would be, and shoulders.  I then was reminded of the pants I came across yesterday.  With your belt still on it.  The last pair you would ever wear while alive on this earth.  And then the picture I saw a few days ago.  The one tucked in my nightstand drawer. The one that at some point after we split up you wrote on the old Polaroid picture and tucked it away for me to find (days after you passed).  “Never forget me”. Not a chance Mike.

You are everywhere.  In our thoughts, in our hearts and tangible pieces of you left behind.

I miss you.  I miss watching you enjoy the sun on your face.  I have never in my life seen anybody enjoy such a simple, everyday thing as if it were the best thing that has ever happened to them.  I will never forget that tilted back head, eyes closed and dreamy smile. Seriously, I could draw it right now if I was asked.

It was a few minutes after seeing the “growth chart” I started to think about how, if you are so present here,  will someone else fit in our lives?  Is there room?  I want to think yes, but it worries me that it is going to take such a strong, giving, compassionate, selfless person to handle a family that is still in love with and so very fond of (an albeit flawed) someone that has left this earth. Does that person exist?

While I figure that out, I hope you are feeling the sun on your face eternally…and none of the pain that you endured while you were here.

All my love.