Tag Archives: family

My Purpose

I have grown into believing that in every situation there is a lesson…and all that happens to us has a purpose.  Actually, if I think back…maybe I am just wired like that. I do distinctively recall a lot of eye rolling from my best friend through high school on when I would sputter “everything happens for a reason” whenever something adverse happened to her.  It drove her crazy!  Maybe it’s that those of us believing in this theory are just eternal optimists that are spinning each situation into having a silver lining to make ourselves feel better…but either way, it works for me that bad things don’t just happen for no reason at all.  I get to learn and evolve as I go.

Well, when someone you love dies it makes you question this theory.  Especially when it is someone who hasn’t lived a full life yet.  Someone who has children…and small ones at that.  Someone who was loved by all and fought as hard as he could and that made no difference.  He went through a hell of a year fighting and being sick for no difference in outcome than if he didn’t fight at all and just gave up.  He is gone.  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  He had plans, WE had plans.

This isn’t an “Everything happens for a reason” situation here.  If that was said to me a month ago…you’d get far more than an eye roll!!  However, I am beginning to look at things a bit differently as time marches on and I get further into the healing process.

I am beginning to believe that we all weren’t meant to be on this earth for 90 or 100 years.  I believe we all have a purpose…some have many purposes. Babies right through to those living 100+ years. When we are taken…our purpose(s) were served.  I’m sure Matt, over his 38 years and especially in his last year, inspired, motivated, healed, loved and impacted many.  I can’t say that there was a reason for him dying, but I can certainly say there was a reason for him living.

So many said to me over the year I was with Matt that I was an angel sent to him and then even more so just after he passed.  It made me uncomfortable because I wasn’t with him to be a saint, out of pity or for whatever reason some people thought (it was nastily said to me by a certain someone after he passed that I liked the “show” of being with Matt!!  I say prayers for that person!!).  I actually fell in love with him and he helped me more than I could have ever imagined in my own grieving process at the time.  Odd that I am left in albeit another time of grief by the one who helped me heal!

I, now that I am moving through my stages of grief and through starting a new relationship, am actually embracing being told that I was his angel.  That was MY purpose for him.  It wasn’t a cruel twist of the universe…as I first felt when he died…to give me love, healing and hope and then snatch it away like a greedy crook.  I look back and know how many times alone we spent cracking each other up.  Rides to the hospital flew by and I swear people thought we were nuts at the laughing and goofing off in the waiting rooms when everyone there was in the midst of a dire situation.  I brought him smiles, laughter and love.  And he brought me the same.  He was my angel, too.  My tears of grief that would arrive in those alone times (especially in the car!) lessened and finally disappeared because of him. The pain in my chest that I held for so long that I didn’t even realize was there…was replaced by feelings of love from and for him.  The grief never goes away, but Matt helped me live happily with it there.  A purpose he had was to help heal me and show me I was able to love again.

It’s nearing five months since he’s been gone.  I am lucky enough, and unlucky enough, to have met someone new to care for so soon.  Grief and a new partner has it’s own set of challenges for both parties.  But I see when starting a relationship without a sickness…which is all I have really known in the past decade…I was missing out on so much…even though I didn’t realize it then.   I didn’t feel like it was lacking anything…it was perfect for what it was at the time.  We were fulfilling a purpose for each other.  Just as this new man in my life is in a role of helping me heal, he is serving a purpose.  I am not sure if this is his only purpose with me and we will part ways tomorrow or next month or next year…or never…or how I am helping him, but he is making me smile and drying my tears (like literally drying them…hence the “unlucky enough” said previously).

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I am now taking comfort in all the roles people past and present have played in my life.  I am embracing all the lessons, love and healing and trying to let that take precedence over what’s been lost and gone wrong.  Eye roll all you want.

My Wish

Last night at work I was propositioned by a patron.  Not in the way that it sounds, but she had a request of me.  I am not sure what initiated the question, why she wants to know or why she chose me to ask.

This customer is one of my many favorites that comes into the restaurant.  She is a very particular woman. She likes what she likes, how she likes it.  I know the glass she prefers, when to refill her and that she likes me to pack her leftovers for her.  She makes sure she tells me just how much she appreciates my service and me as a person.  She compliments me endlessly while I work.  As I go about my duties I like to observe her and her relationship with her life partner, another woman I really like.  The respect they show for each other is heartwarming.  Our conversations are always insightful.  About the restaurant business and occasionally personal life.

“What is your wish for your children?” was her question.

She didn’t need me to answer it right then…she asked me to write it down and I am to share it with her at a later date.  She asked me not to think of the general “world peace” and “end hunger” type of wish…but what I wanted for each of the children individually.  She guessed that it would vary from child to child based on their personalities…and she was right.

I shared with her that I thought it was ironic that “My Wish” was the song I chose for the Mother/Son dance at my eldest’s wedding 2 years ago.  I told her to listen to those words…and that would say it all. But after I got to thinking, I realized that I had more specific wishes for each of them…all very different.

Here they are my special hat wearing, whiskey drinking, fancy glass wielding, song singing, thought provoking conversationalist.

For James, now 23. My wish for him is that he continue to be the God fearing man that he has grown into.  That he continues to be the husband every girl deserves. That he continues to be the adoring and smitten Daddy with just the right amount of faith, love, worry and keeping-it-real to raise an amazing daughter.  See, my wishes seem to have come true with this man.  I couldn’t have hand picked a better wife for him or to be the mother of his child.  I couldn’t be more proud of how he takes care of his family (Insert a shout out to my Dad for being a wonderful role model in that department!). My future wish is for him is continued love between him and his wife and that they grow together through the years and not apart.  To always have that friend by his side loving him, supporting him and encouraging him to be a just little bit better than he was the day before.

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For DJ, now 16.  In this day and age it is very scary to have a teenager.  The demons that are out there and are readily available to our children is frightening.  My wish for DJ is that he sees and recognizes a bad path when it’s in front of him and turns and chooses one that is best for him.  I wish that on that path he gains self confidence in himself and recognizes what his talents and strengths are and uses them to make his living in adulthood.  That he understands the importance of putting in hard work and the benefits you reap because of it.  Mainly pride and self worth. That he deletes “can’t” and “won’t” from his vocabulary and that he believes in himself enough to know that he is as capable of just about anything. My wish is for him not to let fear deter him from pursuing anything, but for him to feel the accomplishment of pushing through it…whether it be asking a girl out or going for a promotion or moving to a faraway land. My wish is for him to always respect the female he will be with.  To know her boundaries and to make sure she respects his.  For him to fall madly and deeply and dizzily in love.

Mackenzie hike

For Mackenzie, now 13. This is a tough age for a girl. Tween and teen girls, well, can be pure evil.  This is a time that self esteem dictates a lot of decision making.  My wish for her now is that she does not underestimate her self worth. That she not only surrounds herself with people that build her up, but she do the same for those she’s near.  A few small words can make or break someone, my hope is that she understands this.  My wish is that she respect her body and her mind and to not let anyone touch either one in a way she does not want or like. That she listen to her inner voice and let that guide her through her teen years and not be swayed by peers or others that she may encounter that will try and violate any part of her being. My wish is that she learn to enjoy where she is and what she has while still maintaining that healthy thirst for better or more.  That she continues to use the tools she is learning through her competitive cheer of hard work and determination and how it pays off and let it carry on into all areas of her life.  That when she’s grown she finds a man to treat her like she truly deserves, that he loves her and dotes on her and respects her and she does the same for him, both while never taking it for granted.

Bray mountain

For Brayden, now 4. Only having four years to get to know Bray…his personality traits aren’t as well defined as the others, so my wishes for him aren’t as exact.  My wish is that the energy he has gets channeled into positive outlets as he grows.  That he puts it on the field or court or gym or wherever he feels he is comfortable.  My wish is that nothing touches his kind nature to harden him.  My wish is that his bright little mind continues to flourish and that he keeps his quest for knowing everything about anything going.  My wish is that he continues to get loved on by his older siblings and they remain a constant in his life as he trails them into adulthood.  That he not feel a void of having his Daddy gone, but to be reminded by those that knew and loved him of all his positive qualities and funny stories.  That alcohol and drugs do not play any role in his life.  My wish is that he is guided by positive male role models along the way, that he is shown how to respect himself and others.  Not just how I show him, but how a man is to do it.  How to provide and be present for his family.  That he finds and holds onto love.

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For all of my children.  Show compassion and respect, even when it’s not deserved. Own your mistakes. Never show up to a gathering empty handed. Hygiene is mandatory. Keep laughter in your life. And don’t ever forget your Mom loves you with everything that she is, you are her world…she is there for you no matter what.  She has been adoring you since the first second she saw you.  And she always will.

My realization in writing this blog today and answering my friend’s question is that it took a bit of soul searching to write.  What did I wish that I had for myself at those ages…what would’ve bettered me…kept me safer…protected me from harm.   What was it that did impact me in a positive way.  It was a nice way to reflect and to maybe help me choose some actions or words to share with my kids along the way to help the wishes I have for them come true.

Thanks K.

“Give Sorrow Words”

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.” ~ Shakespeare

This insightful quote…and the encouragement of my kids…leaves me opening up a blank page and continue writing.  Keeping grief locked up keeps the pain locked up.  I’ll give my sorrow words…

Three years ago, I came to learn about real grief for the first time in my life.  I had lost numerous people…but when it is someone so close…someone you let into your heart…it’s far different.  This first experience was with my son’s father.  I guess it’s probably the same feeling as when you lose a best friend, parent, sibling, or even worse…God forbid a child.  I guess I was lucky making it 41 years escaping that pain.

So, this time around, losing Matt a week ago, it doesn’t hurt any less.  However, this time around I have some hope that I won’t always be stuck where I am.  That feeling where I just want it to be bed time so I can sleep (well, lie there and try and sleep), having that walking around in a fog type of feeling, just plain being non-functional.  Like not remembering how to even tie your shoes type of non-functional.

This time, I am able to see the milestones and know that I am headed in the right direction.  Today, for instance, I made my cup of coffee this morning and came to the computer rather than back to bed.  Baby steps.  I clicked on the website for the grocery store circular armed with paper and pen.   The goal was  to make a list and plan dinners judging on the sales and get myself out to the store…eventually. I clicked on the site.  I haven’t looked at it and the paper and pen sit in front of me untouched.  But it’s still baby steps.

Right now, I am going to put on my Pandora music stations and attempt to get some cleaning done.  Then get back to my grocery list.  I don’t know how far I will get, but getting the music on and out of this chair (and avoiding my bed) will be steps in the right direction.  Moving forward…

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.

 

In the thick of hand-me-down Hell…

In the thick of hand-me-down Hell...

I worked last night and did not put the kids to bed. There was a sitter at the house, but I had to guess Mackenzie was instrumental in putting Bray down for the night. The telling signs were that I first had to hurdle over stuffed animals and babies that had been “tucked in” and scattered about  the room when I went in to check on him when I got home. Second, was his attire when I got him out of his crib this morning. Thankfully, he didn’t escape the house in his “Big Sister” shirt, but it sure put a smile on my face and gave me a few chuckles throughout the morning.

I’m sure he’ll get her back someday…especially after he discovers the pictures of himself in the make-up and tiara we have hidden away!

I have distinct memories of having to wear multi-colored striped bell bottoms lovingly handed down through three sisters of mine and then on to me.  They were very stylish when my sisters wore them…in the 70’s.  By the time I got them it was the 80’s.  The time of Jordache and Sasson. Not striped bell bottoms.  Anyone out there have any similar clothing calamity or other hand-me-down horror stories?

Chicken soup for MY Soul…

“Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” 
― A.A. Milne

I have to say, I am so very blessed to have so many friends and family in my life that build me up, create a confidence in me when I am beginning to waiver and have me believing in myself when there seems no reason to.  When I feel like I am about to give up, unknowingly they come along and pat me on the back giving me praise to keep me going.  Sometimes it’s just a few words to put a smile on my face.  Sometimes it’s literally “lifting me up”! I have to thank God for placing them there for me at those very moments.

 I’ve had more than one person say to me recently that they felt so terrible that bad things keep on happening to me.  I was taken back because that’s not how I feel at all.  This world is filled with bad and good.  They both touch us all at times.  All of us.  No matter what has been going on around me there has never been once that I haven’t felt taken care of, loved on or lifted up. 

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve the showering of blessings that rain on me, but I pray for it to continue.

 

 

Tears, Beers and Fears…

 

 

That’s how I am getting through.  How WE are getting through.  She is likely to be drinking the beer and me a glass of wine, but we share the same tears and a lot of the same fears as we clink our glasses.

 

“She” is my sister Robin.  “She” just lost her husband. “She” is now a widow.

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I don’t get that title…as I wasn’t married.  And I also was separated at the time.  “I lost my kids’ father”, I am not a widow.  What I do get is what she is and will be going through.  Our living situations were different, our relationships were different, the family dynamic different.  I believe our pain will be the same. 

 

It just breaks me to know what’s in store for her.  I am planning on blogging much more on this…but that’s it for now.  I’m raising my glass while wiping our tears.