Year four is killing me

Each year this day comes one of the first things I tell myself is next year things will not hurt as much. Time heals all wounds is the saying right? Ha! Now that seems to be a joke on us! Sorry, I'm a bit angry or maybe it's frustrated. This month didn't sneak up on me like they have the last couple years. In fact it's been building since the end of March. The thoughts of the days in the hospital with my dad so vivid I can hear everything all over again.

Our son's soccer started again this year around that time at the local ice arena. On April 6, 2008 while we were there for soccer I received the call that would be the beginning of the end. Perhaps being there early this month watching his team do drills triggered something deeper than I have allowed myself to face. Needless to say, I am struggling more this year then I think I have since 2008.

That day just a few short weeks ago a moment was lost with the realization of that fateful day four years ago; life stopped, everything went silent around me, and all the days spent in hospital with my father came crashing down on me like someone had dropped a huge boulder on top of me. I have been in convulsive tears many times this month, his laughter ringing in my head, the last hug I got from him, the words, 'Where's Bubs' when I would be silently sitting next to his hospital bed trying to make myself believe that he was just sick and would go home soon.

I'm angry for so many reasons, most importantly because I can't control these emotions! I'm frustrated because fighting them is like fighting a rubber band--I think I have a grasp on them and suddenly my eyes will well up instantly. Over the last week I've barely slept, I've barely eaten, and have curled up inside of myself just like I did after he died. Why? It's been four years?

April is always an awful month now. He stayed with us over Christmas and New Years, got through his birthday and past Easter...the norm in our family is someone dies right around Christmas. Not him...perhaps it was his will that helped him to get through them because he knew the pain around the holidays. Funny how we rationalize things to fit the perfect image that helps us believe we can in fact control things. Many times I watched my father grieve the loss of a family member around Christmas--he would become very silent; his jolly spirit would be nowhere and he would just stare. Perhaps that is where I get it from...that dislocation from reality..a way to cope.

All I know right now is that I am a wreck of gigantic proportions. That tears have been coming and going since I got home from our sons soccer last night; I slept awful, woke at around 4:20 this morning to the memory of me standing at his feet at that same time four years ago, hanging on to his right foot, tears streaming down my face as nearly my entire family surrounded him and said the rosary. I remember thinking that I needed to stop showing him my raw pain...I knew what was happening but didn't want him to know I knew but I couldn't hide it..he saw my pain, he couldn't speak anymore, but then at the same time I wasn't even sure he was even able to recognize any of us. I so badly wanted to jump on the hospital bed and shake up his jolly..make him say something to egg me on...I so badly wanted to see my dad one last time. 

And now four years later I want it all back...I hear his laughter ringing in my head just like I spoke with him yesterday. Only it's just an echo now. I just don't know why it's been so difficult this year. I am able to cope any other month--think about him often and chuckle about this or that. But this month seems to get harder each year than easier. Perhaps it's fear that I will forget him or such a deep loss that it will always be this way, I don't know.

I've been withdrawn, punchy, quit school for awhile, and am just walking around in the same kind of fog I was four years ago. Yeah, I quit school to find a job because this economy sucks but another reason was because the stress....the confusion and frustration with my inability to push this back and move on like I normally would. Usually on the anniversary I sob one time and then it eases..not this time. I've sobbed a couple times already in the last 24-hours and it's still right in my throat. I've cried at least once a day; lost my ability to breathe normally on some days because it hits me so hard. And when asked how I'm doing with it my immediate response is 'fine'. Exuding strength...that was one of my father's biggest assets and something I watched closely..I wanted to be just like him. He laughed a lot, he had a lot of fun with is own wit and charm and loved to make people laugh. I was always so proud when I could make HIM laugh because I knew I was getting it.

Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm not fine..that I am really looking forward to the 24th of this month coming and going so I can put these feelings to rest for awhile....April is just not a good month. May is just around the corner and maybe then I can resume life as I know it now without him and find that peace that I have learned to cling to. Until then, forgive me for my post, forgive me for the rain if it should fall, forgive me for being a wreck. I really think I need to go fishing or something!

Miss you so much Dad!

In this life it's the simpler things

Oh my, it's been awhile. I'm currently on a three week mental break from school and loving the freedom of no homework and no laptop in front of me. So much so that I have barely even been on my Facebook page which is pretty amazing.

It's been an interesting few weeks for us. A water line sprung a leak a few weeks ago which caused us immense amounts of stress and some potentially quick and tough decisions...a week later our water heater went out due to the heat and humidity..before that, the power windows on one side of our car just stopped working...ummmm, the outside glass panel of our deck door shattered because of the heat and humidity, our boat motor is just about dead right before our vacation and pretty much unfixable, ahhh, I know there's more but I just can't keep track. This all within the last month has left us VERY ready for our upcoming annual family vacation!

I started an internship at a school district a couple weeks ago....and I absolutely LOVE it! I worried for awhile that I wasn't making the right choice with my schooling but the first day I worked I knew right away that my decision was rock solid. The woman I'm working with has me running like a chicken with its head cut off and will have me busy for the next couple weeks or so...the position is paid and indefinite which is HUGE for an internship! I couldn't be more overjoyed with this nor can P. In fact, it's at his place of employment in the IT department so we get to ride to work together every day, have lunch together, and come home together. Yeah, I know...roll the eyes. But lucky for him and I it is an added bonus.

Sadly, a friend of ours lost her 40-year old husband last Wednesday to esophageal cancer. The cancer was discovered just last October....we attended the wake yesterday and it was difficult. They have two boys--one a year older than our son and the other a year younger. P and I stood and watched the video yesterday tearing up and just shaking our heads--this just shouldn't happen to people our age...but it does all the time right? His wife is a wonderful person--I worked with her for three or four years doing daycare. Over those years we had a lot of fun together and shared a lot of heartache too. It is really difficult to see her...she's showing so much strength and has throughout all of this. Too young...just ugh.

Anyway, now I sit here appreciating even those dumb malfunctions of our water pipe and water heater..they are just material things and are replaceable. Life is not, my husband and children are not....those friends who have impacted me in deep ways are not, those few siblings I adore are not....my grandson is not...to awake each morning is a gift, to hold those who love you and those you love even for a brief moment is a gift....while it's sad that two lives we've been acquainted with have been lost at young ages, their loss has left behind many who are reminded what really matters.

Life is about choices...I choose to find the finer things

As I sit here listening to P and B discuss football plays and tackles while playing PS2 I sigh a bit and smile.....the sounds of their voices, the dogs lying around, the cats beating each other up, I cannot help but realize how lucky I am and how good of a life we have.

I read a story today about Japan and it literally made me cry. I don't often do that to a friggen' news story but this one in particular just struck a nerve in me. Perhaps it's because I've been studying tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanoes in my Geology class the last few weeks so I'm paying more attention, perhaps it's because this is such a small island that is packed tightly together with people who are so very proud and strong, or just maybe it's because I'm human. No matter really....

Why did I cry? Because their lives are turned upside down while I sit in the comfort of my home, my family safe, with food in the fridge and clean air to breathe with no threat. Because all around it seems that people wallow in their own little pity parties, seeking sympathy, seeking to hurt others, seeking to bring others down, or seeking to do whatever the hell it is while there is real drama going on in this effed up world.

Life does suck sometimes....I've had my share of shitty moments but each time I pick myself back up and move on....There are people out there who really need some help and support, a roof over their heads...what right do I have to complain because I have homework? What right do I have to whine about anything really? Petty, petty, petty! All of it. It's all dust in the wind....each day I wake to the same homework and the same life...God thank you for that and each breath I breathe!

My tears have turned into anger with the selfishness that we all seem immune to. I'm no better than the next guy and take things for granted quite often. Outside of that 'self-pity bubble' there lies bigger problems, more serious drama as we all sit and ponder what horrible thing sucks in our life today. Bullshit.

People choose their feelings, people choose their state of mind, people choose to blame others or to make others responsible for emotions. What about the raw emotions of those in the midst of this tragic event....most of us, if given a choice, would choose to have the life we have as opposed to be in the middle of hell in Japan right? But is our life really so damn terrible that we have to gripe about it or wallow in our own tears of self pity?

The thing I'm trying to say here is that life sucks...I get that as most others probably do. But kick the damn pebble out of your way and move on and look around at just how much worse it could be. If you have a home you are fortunate, if you have a car you are fortunate, if you have a crappy job, you are fortunate, if you have a husband or wife your lucky to be and to have love, if you have children, you are lucky to experience some really great moments, if you have a single friend cherish them....Most of us are pretty damn lucky I think....lucky to just be.

One saying I have always liked is: "The clock is running. Make the most of today. Time waits for no man. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called the present." I don't know who said this but damn...it's the truth!

Sometimes the past is painful...I have one of those that haunts me every so often but I can choose to turn off the switch and enjoy what is right here in front of me....love that is so great that sometimes I cannot even breathe, kids that are so wonderful most days that I could just burst with pride, a roof that isn't exactly wonderful but it's home all the same, a truck with bald tires but it gets me where I need to go...and most importantly a life that I chose--the key word there being 'chose'.

Rest In Peace Alora Rae Breault

Pat and I went away for the weekend AND attended the Chicago/Vikings game on Sunday. (Thanks R & R) All that sounds like a great time ... hmmm, I beg to differ on that because of...well, if you've read my previous posts you know. The weekend away was to be a moment to forget, a moment to feel normal...

Well...it started that way and it was really nice to be with my hubby...then on Saturday, I read the paper and there was a small blip about a car accident and a teen dying. The name didn't register at that time, I was skimming and briefly sad for yet another loss on Highway 8 of a young life....a couple hours later, our daughter called knowing that she should only call if there was something urgent....

The girl who died....she was one of the kids I did daycare for only a few years ago. It was after that phone call that I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown...I shut down. Too much for my human emotions to handle. At a certain point, the wall that I created to try to help my friends, crumbled, and I found myself lost.

What I'm most used to with daycare kids from my past is meeting up with them at the bar or running into them at the store....never to read about them in the paper. Daycare kids...regardless of how little time they came to my home, the moment they stepped their first little foot in my door, they always managed to find a way into my heart...smiles, the way they talked, the way they played house, the way they tried to throw their weight around to get what they wanted...a flip of the hair, the color of their eyes, their spunk and spirit-- The mom and I were friends before daycare was even considered. The idea of her and the father having to deal with this loss....I just groan every time I think of it.

Seeing them tonight, trying so very hard to be strong while those lines of pain and anguish riddled their faces...it was awful. The funeral of children....there were so many people there, so many of this girls friends....and there was a line a mile long and the parking lot full of people driving around hoping for a spot to open. School teachers, another of my old daycare kids who was this little girls "boyfriend" when they both attended my daycare....he was my first thought when I learned of this whole tragedy...and he looked beaten and numb.

The last week has really been shitty! Overwhelming, painful, heartbreaking, stressful, and unbearable at times......

Regardless of the fact that my own father died a year and a half ago, the death of another reminds me just how much pain I still carry of his loss, how much I truly miss him, and it envelops me like a glove...I'm really lucky to have my family to recognize this in me, to know what triggers my sadness and my distance. I have a great husband and wonderful kids....they have been here for me, they have been here to pick me up and have seen the toll the last week has been taking on me. My strength has faltered and it is them who have come to my side to ask if I'm ok, who make me smile, who tell me they love me and who have listened to me while I sort out the emotions that have been spinning around like a hurricane in my head and my heart. It is them I will remember when I come out of this haze, when I feel somewhat normal again.

Thank you all so very much P, D, J, C, and B!

I am NORMAL!

Lets just say that yesterday was horrid! It was a good thing I decided to take the day off otherwise things could have gotten ugly. The one year anniversary has passed. Although I do worry how Friday will be.

The year of firsts has been awful! At about 8:45 yesterday morning, a few moments before my father breathed his final breath one year ago, I started having problems breathing, I started panicking, I started crying uncontrollably while looking at the blue bird house my father made and gave to me many years ago. It wasn't something that happened from looking at this birdhouse...it was like a wave had washed over me and knocked me into reality for the first time in a year. Numbness and withdrawal have been the only existence for me except it's been at an all time high this past couple months. It was the strangest and most painful thing. All the pain of a year ago had just come flooding back into my heart. Differently though...perhaps it's the finality setting in.

So, this emotional breakdown lasted for about 45 minutes with a small break in there long enough to bring my little man to school for the day....at one point, I stopped because something in me clicked....the realization that it is in fact real, that it is in fact final and there is no nightmare or joke or even my imagination thinking the worst as it's so prone to doing. It's all been real....all the pain, all the tears, all the memories from those two weeks in the hospital.

I bet you're all saying, "DUH!" LeAnn.....well, if you're not, I am.

Death of one so dear to us. As I said in my last post, IT HURTS! It sends you into an abyss of utter helplessness and dark and deep sadness. One in which no matter how much you try to get out of, there is just no light. Every once in awhile there's a crack of light where laughter emerges but overall, the emotional fingers ache from trying to claw out of this funk. The mentality is just screaming enough is enough, just let me get out of hell and let me be normal. But I know that will never be again, sadly.

This is a morbid post, but hey, I've been pretty morbid. I've read up on the old mourning process because I have feared that I've fallen into a deep depression...I read after my previous post because of how I've been feeling this year. What I learned from the six or so articles I read is that I have been experiencing is all normal. It's all nearly verbatim to what I've been writing off and on. I've been handling it well, been dealing with it well...although, I can't say that I feel as though I've been dealing with things all that well. Talk about feeling a little bit of relief to learn that I am not loony and clinically depressed.

So, yes, there has been a cork put on my happiness, there has been moments where I have written posts and only saved them because they were so dark and personal, there have been moments where I feel that if I ran away things would get a little better...but in the end, I just know that no one can make this hurt go away but me. The support has been amazing, the love and hugs have been overwhelming but in the end, the pain just won't go away.

I read a really outrageous headline today...it was called "Fatties Cause Global Warming" or something close to that. I actually belly laughed at that one because the lengths that people will go to for this whole global warming issue are just insane and very callous in my opinion. What asinine jerks to title an article that way!
But the point of telling you that is that I do hope I've leapt over a very tall hurdle with the year having been and gone. I do know that the pain will always be with me but I also know that I've been denying things and pretending that it's just a bad nightmare and pretending that I'm just great and accepting of the fact that people die. In the end, I've only been denying myself the opportunity to hurt, and to absorb...which I have learned is normal.

So, please celebrate with me as I jump for joy over the fact that I'm NORMAL! That is a huge discovery for me.

Thanks again to all of you for all your support and patience with me through this very painful process. There is an attempt at SOME humor in this post but whether it came through or not, well, lets just say I'm a little out of practice with that whole concept!

A new beginning

At a loss for words these days. Many life altering, sad, exciting, jaw dropping things have happened over this last year. My desire to write at this blog has been MIA. Sadly, I can't seem to find that anymore.

I often wonder if I'm on emotional overload and my system is recharging. Or if I will ever feel 'happy' again. I am not clinically depressed, let me just straighten that out right this minute. No way, no how, never. I know me well enough to know that I am just in a spot in life where many things have come to question.

LIFE....the biggest question.

I've experienced a very deep loss but have also experienced a very joyous birth this last year. Talk about messing with the mojo! Yes, the one year anniversary is quickly approaching already and this past year has been quite foggy with me. I turned 40 in December and I wasn't even phased by it....just another damn day and an additional year added is all.

In this last year there has been a lot of reflection, a lot of observation of my children, a lot of silence on my part. I look at my kids differently now, I look at my mom differently, I look at my marriage so much deeper and differently and mostly, I reflect on all those times that we can never get back...like the 5 minutes ago when I started this blubbering.

What really is the meaning in our life, what impact has my existence had? What purpose have I served in this world? It's really quite amazing to see things from this perspective...that silent, invisible hand of reality comes from no where and smacks ya and 'Wham!', everything is so different.

I can't say I've become a better person or a better wife or a better friend or mom or daughter. In fact, because of all my reflecting and silence, I've kind of been lost in my own little world working hard to figure so much out. It's been an interesting journey, one filled with some challenging moments.

There have been things lurking inside of me for a year that I am finally starting to work through and talk with Pat about. Things that I didn't even know existed. This whole mourning process is quite the kicker. Never in a million years would I have imagined the impact it would make on my self, my heart, my soul, my mind. All the morbid thoughts, the fleeting dreams, the anxiety, the unexpected and unstoppable tears suddenly wetting my cheeks without even a sting...free flowing.

This post isn't really about the loss but about the recovery. The human spirit is so damn resilient. The loss is great and painful as hell. The loneliness and emptiness is unbearable at times, but it's at those times that I think the most healing occurs. Oddly enough, it's like breaking a small part of a dam to let the water flow freely. But the dumb river is as wide and expansive as the oceans on some days.

With this post, I am removing some large branches from that dam. It's harsh when I realize just how easy it's been to look only towards the sadness and the negative; how simple it's been to enjoy the happy moments only briefly just to allow myself to turn back to the black cloud that's been hovering over my head this year. It's those tears of sadness that are actually a doorway to finding some happiness, comfort, and some peace....

Sadness lingers deep

Sometimes life doesn't seem fair, sometimes a person wonders why we continue on each day. Sometimes there's a big question of why or how could things have been different. Things we were never really taught about in school, the realities of living day by day.

My friend's father passed away yesterday morning. She is down in Arizona, basically unreachable. Our other friend called here with the news. There is really nothing I can do, I've texted her and let her know that I'm here if she needs to talk at all but know from my own experience that she probably won't take me up on that offer. That's ok, I've really yet to speak to many about my own experience with my father and really have no further desire to do such at any time in the near future.

While I cannot take away any amount of pain she may have in her heart, I hope she knows that I wish that I could, that I wish that none of this happened to her family or to mine or anyone else...but it is what it is. My reaction to this was stone cold numbness and a sense of what good will it do for me to drop down and cry like a baby. What a horseshit reaction that sounds like....let it be known that while taking a shower I bawled like a baby for her, for her mom, for her siblings, for her dad and for just the way we must all cease to exist. Of course my own experience came flooding back which only added to my tears. I guess that's just a given for now, until wounds heal...

I want to thank everyone who said a prayer...from both myself and my friend. I'm sure she really appreciates your support and kindness.

As for Mr. S.; May he find the peace and serenity that he so much deserves. While his last days were a struggle, he was blessed with the presence of his wife and children on Thanksgiving Day and was also able to be in his own home. His last days were rough and as with my own father, I am grateful that Mr. S has finally found some peace.

R.I.P. J.S.

A Very Happy Thanksgiving to Everyone

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. This year is a bittersweet one.

The bitter part:

The absence of my father will be very tough, it's been weighing very heavy on my heart the last couple of weeks, or months, not sure which. We will be spending the day at my mom's for obvious reasons and while I look forward to being with everyone, a part of me, well, it just won't be complete. He will be happy in spirit though and his relief is a blessing. Knowing that my father is feeling some peace now is one thing that I'm extremely thankful for...he is no longer struggling.

The sweet part....there really is so much that I'm thankful for in our life I couldn't even begin to list it all. Pat's new job, I'm working, the roof over our head, the struggles that continue to teach us so much about ourselves and life, our 4 very wonderful kids and their significant others, a husband that I couldn't live without, and something that I've yet to make mention of...a grandbaby on the way. LOL Yes, we are going to be granny and grandpa, the secret is out. But I couldn't write this post without mentioning that we are thankful for this little blessing coming soon. The health of our family, our siblings, our parents, food on the table, heat, animals that drive us nuts, wonderfully supportive friends....just way too much. My list is endless, my heart is swelling with it all.

I have spent most of the day baking pies and pumpkin bars for tomorrows festivities and I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the big feast we will be indulging in...or should I say over-indulging in. There is much in this life, this world to be thankful for...just the ability to wake each morning is more than I can ask for and to walk and talk and move....

I wanted to wish all my blogger friends and families a very, very Happy and Peaceful Thanksgiving. Stay safe and warm and for all those soldiers out there.....please, please know that you are not far from our thoughts in this household and that we extend our warmest wishes to all of you.

Happy Turkey Day to All

Helpless

Have you ever had the feeling in your gut that in this life, we are all born of the same mold? That we are all inevitably going to have the same experiences in some round about way? That when it does occur that another is in the same situation that you once had that you fear talking to them because you might just say the wrong thing?

That situation is upon me, that moment is happening and I just want to crawl in a hole and cry like a baby because of that feeling of familiarity, the knowledge that there isn't a damn thing I can do to help yet I so badly want to, that desire to just be there to protect this person and others around her.

However, I am not a saint, I am not an angel, I am not God and I am definitely not superhuman. These things I do know but man, I just wish I could be....make time stop exactly where it is so life will not move forward...simply just stay where it is at and everyone can just be and maintain and not have to worry about what may be.

Emotions have been running pretty high these last couple weeks with many things going on in our life and others. My friend's father is really not doing well and of course the things I wrote above are about that. This friend and I have reconnected over the last year or so....her and I were pretty close for a few years way back when and then we just lost contact with each other for dumb reasons that don't even matter anymore..to me anyway. We were confirmed together back in 6th grade...I had completely forgotten that we had attended those classes together all those years ago. She reminded me of that a couple weeks ago.

Now, as I sit here hoping not to get a call from her, for reasons I would rather just not think about, all I can do is ache for her and her family. It's what I do. I spoke to her last night and was very surprised that I was able to hold it together and talk....I'm not great in these types of situations to begin with. All the tears I've shed this past week for her I was certain that when I got a call that I would just crumble and not be able to speak to her at all. There are just too many similarities between her father and mine. She called it freaky and trust me...it really is.

There were dry eyes from me, a strength that I was certain would disappear or maybe it wasn't strength but only a wall of protection I've built around me since my father died...but at the same time, that sense of helplessness. I just want to be near her because I know, because I can relate, because I don't know any other way to help her out. She knows that I'm praying for her, she knows that I'm a phone call away and that I would drop everything in a second and fly down to be with her...even though I know that she is with exactly who she wants and needs right now...her hubby and kids and her family.

My friends were wonderful when my dad was leaving us, they were there with whatever I may have needed, only they weren't what I wanted. I never did call them for anything because I am like that.....have to pretend that I'm strong and will be just fine. That shield of protection I spoke of...cannot be weak, must endure and learn to deal, and act accordingly.

Sorry girls, I mean nothing horrible by that, I will explain right now. There was no one around me that could give me what I wanted at that time. No one that could take away the pains that were circulating in my heart and my body, no one to ease my worries and my fears. No words or distractions were even close to what I wanted. And that is no fault of anyone's, it is just how life progresses and how we must learn to live and cope.

While I know that no matter what I may do for my friend during this time will never remove the millions of emotions, I also know that she knows that we love her and that she knows that no matter what, we will do whatever we can to help her out. She knows how she felt when my father was in the hospital....I now know how she felt too...

Please say some prayers

My friend's father is not doing well. I'm not sure of all the details, just that I received an email today and have been getting updates over the last couple weeks and it seems that things have escalated a little over the last week or so.

Please, please, I ask my friends in bloggerland to just keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

Thank you in advance to all of you......

Doing what's best for me....

Tonight there was a memorial service for all those who died over the last year, at my folks' church. I didn't attend even though I wanted to for my mom. Call me selfish but re-opening up wounds that are barely beginning to heal is just not something I'm ready to do and I guess for myself, I don't think it's a really good idea. Yes, it's been tough, it's been hard not to think about some memory everyday or my father's laugh or this jibe or that poke. It's election time, him and Pat would go back and forth every election year because my parents are democrats...it was great.

I spoke with my mom about this yesterday and apologized to her. She said she understood and had thought the same thing. How could she not, she has to live in that house surrounded by the many memories that linger. I felt bad telling her I wasn't attending but at the same time, I guess I know better what is best for myself, my family here. It's been hard on all of us in this house and we are all still struggling to believe at times. Laughter comes easier, but there are still many moments that we stop and recall this or that or some dumb thing will trigger a memory.

In the weeks before this service I often thought about this. Do I really want to go and cry my eyes out as I know I would? Do I really want to feel that empty feeling so close to my heart and have to struggle to get to the point I'm at right now? Yes, I'm feeling some amount of guilt but not because I didn't go to honor my dad...only because I wasn't there for my mom. But knowing that other family members would be there gave me a lot of comfort too. My father is in my heart forever, in my thoughts in nearly all that I do...he knows.

The loss is deep, I can certainly admit that. Things creep up so unexpectedly and those tears flow so freely. It's not the crying of a person hurting my feelings or of frustration...it's a different crying, one that has no off valve. Ones I just cannot control no matter how very hard I try. It's a crying that feels so good but hurts so bad all at once, one that makes my whole body hurt....I just don't know. But I do know that I cannot walk into those fingers of anguish all over again, it's just like walking into a hornets nest for me. I avoid these types of situations as much as I can because I internalize and absorb so much and end up with severe anxiety/panic disorder.

Oh, I just don't know.....just had to get this off my chest I guess.

His middle name was......

Every now and then pangs of pain shoot through me. Memories of my father. For the most part, I've been pretty ok with things, a little teary eyed here or a very depressed/shocked-still-in-denial-moment-there. Not a day has gone by since April 20th that I haven't thought of my dad at least one time throughout the day. There's always something that reminds me of him. Today it just happened to be my son. And it's not the first time our boy has triggered this.

Our little guy is still having a hard time with it. He's about like me, tears here and there, wanting something to call his own that was his grandpa's just so he can have something he touched or used. I cannot tell you how I wish I could just help my son understand and feel even the slightest bit better about things although I'm still trying to understand and feel again. I've certainly grown more humble over the last 5 1/2 months.

So, I am now an employee at the school...after years of trying. Our son was very adamant about me not touching him and letting everyone know that "I am his mom"...sort of thing. It's comical really. I have respected those wishes because I certainly don't want other kids taking liberties and picking on him at will. School is hard enough. And so far it's worked out ok...he even lets me tousle his hair now and all the kids in his class are always happy to see B's Mom! So it's all good.

But today he did something completely out of character for him right before he was going to go in from recess. I was getting the classes lined up and he came up. His face looked 'devastated', pained, and like he was about ready to cry. The kid NEVER comes near me at recess and when I say never, I mean him and I don't even say hi to each other before he goes in. It's that line of respect that I'm waiting for him to break. Anyway, he blurted out that there were some kids calling him Elmo....I was quite confused by this because it was such a minor thing. He said he didn't want them to call him that and wanted me to ask them to stop.

I told him I would of course because he looked so distraught by it. Needless to say, I made one of the girls cry just by asking her why she was calling him that and felt terrible because I was completely confused and really didn't see what was so horrible about it...my son who never tattles unless he's feeling on the verge of tears or complete frustration. Then I thought that maybe it was because he gets called various names by his older sisters....it bothered me a great deal for the rest of the day. It just wasn't like him to be so....irritated.

Well, it took every fiber of my being not to walk to his classroom for the next couple hours and find out what was going on with him. But I refused to be the doting mom and decided that I would have to just hang tough until 2:00...I just had a horrible feeling that there was more to this than I realized. I actually started walking to his class two times between my own classes but turned around....it just nagged at me...

So finally 2:00 came around, I went to his classroom and within 5 minutes, he told me what was going on and did I ever feel stupid. I asked him why he was so upset by this and if the little girls talked to him at all....the first words out of his mouth in a quiet voice accompanied by moist eyes were, "Elmo was Grandpa's middle name and I thought they were making fun of it and I didn't like it." Man did I feel like an idiot but I do have one thing that I can counter that with....all my life, I was told that my father's middle name was Edmond....it wasn't until about a month or so before he died that I was given the real story behind his name...and yes, his middle name was Elmo. Somehow it had gotten written wrong on his baptismal certificate. It was always Edmond to me....when he said they were calling him Elmo, I immediately thought of Elmo the muppet and thought it was cute that they came up with such a sweet name...although what I think is sweet is definitely not something my son would concur with.

It all suddenly made great sense to me and I immediately called the two girls over and explained things to them and it was like a shadow crossed both their faces and then a light went on....they understood and I apologized if I had upset them, they both smiled a little smile and gave me a nod...shy little things they are....but Honestly, I didn't yell at them...I just asked a question and the little girls lip was quivering almost immediately....then she started to well up with tears and man...I felt like such a meany. But it's all good now.

However, days like today....beautiful fall colors surrounding me, I can't help not thinking about my father. He would have loved it here today. I took a drive on my lunch to the scenic overlook, the long way back to our house on a road that follows the river...the smell, the colors....I felt my father today, he was near me....Things are easier but at the same time, so very hard when it hits.

Thanks for listening....

I will always look up to you

Well, it's over. Or it's just begun. At least what was the wrapping up of what has been--a whirlwind two, almost three weeks. I cannot say how I am feeling right now, feeling as though I'm walking in a fog. My heart is still very heavy, my head very jumbled, my body very tired.

I am so very sad. I have never experienced a loss so close to me so these emotions are really a stranger to me. I feel as though I may never get out of this funk, never know what it is to be normal or functional again. But at the same time know that this will pass and it will make me a different sort of person...

As with everything in life, this too will make a new mold of me, teach me things about myself and those around me. My father was an incredible man and I'm sure this is said by most about their parents. Hearing all the stories about him, knowing what I know about him but mostly, the outpouring of friends and family that loved him.

The amount of people who came to his wake to pay their respects was overwhelming. He knew so very many people and each of them said in different ways how he touched their lives. But the most prominent things that every last person there spoke about were his laughter...his smile...and his ability to make jokes. The man...I just cannot even put into words his impact on all of us, it's overwhelming for me to try.

I posted this picture of him and I. Since I was a little girl, it has always touched me, been one of my favorite photos with my dad. My father loved his babies, he loved his grandchildren and his great grandchildren. Any child. All the numerous pictures I and my siblings have are of him with children. Holding them, cuddling them, sleeping with them...God he loved kids. He just loved period.

Kissing him goodbye yesterday was so very difficult. Knowing that it will be the last time I will ever get to touch him, to kiss him and to physically see him...

I know that I'm probably not making much sense with this post, that it's sad and for that I apologize...I just need to re acclimate, re adjust, learn how to walk through my days without my father's presence. It will get better, it will get easier but right now....

One big bad nightmare....

I have determined in the last hour or so that my blog will probably be pretty depressing over the next week or so. Or it could be less so...but either way, I won't be posting much about news or happy things as I mourn the loss of my dear father.

Amazing how up and down the emotions have been today. I must say that it's been a pretty rough one. My brother returned home safely from Kosovo. He is doing about as good as can be expected. It was so nice to hug him, something I have been aching to do for 2 weeks. I broke down balling in his arms yet told myself that I wouldn't do that...

It's so easy to believe that we can be strong but so hard to actually do it. I had to go purchase some clothing for the funeral today. It hit me pretty hard why I was buying them while I was trying them on. I looked at what I had picked out and WHAM...I needed to get out of the store. How could I be so concerned about how I look for such a sad occasion? How could I be worried about what my dad would think of the clothing I picked out for his new journey? How could I be shopping a day after he left? How could I decide what would be appropriate for such an occasion....my father....his funeral....Since then I have been a wreck. Sad, melancholy, confused, angry, talkative at moments, frustrated, happy for him, sad for my mom, hurt for my brother...

I don't like all these emotions...how they just suddenly creep up on me. I don't like that I have no control over what might rear it's ugly head next.

Pat and I stopped at a jeweler to pick up a St. Christopher medal for our son. My father wore his everyday...even in his hospital bed. That chain around his neck was always a presence. I promised our son that we would buy him one just like Grandpa's and that I would find a picture of Grandpa for him to have close to him. Our son liked this idea so it was done.

I sat here on our couch tonight and looked at the photos we had here. I have some as recent as last June...it made me think about how this has just got to be a dream...a horrible, horrible dream. Ugh....While I want this week to end and the events that lie ahead, I so don't want them to begin.

The usually mundane life that we all lead with the occasional thought of time passing by and people that we love getting older, I guess the thought of this was always just a thought...one that told me that I had plenty of time, plenty of preparation, and plenty of strength. I may very well have THOUGHT I prepared myself with my father having health issues over the last few years but I am now sure that no matter how much I strengthen my emotions over morbid thoughts that the pain that is within was not something I thought to prepare my heart for. Silly me...how naive I still am even at the age I'm at.

Please bear with me while I vent at my blog, while I put into words my sorrows and while I try to readjust to a life without my dad there to give me crap; for not answering my phone; picking on me for silly things that were always sure to make us pick fun at each other while we laughed and seen who could say the meanest thing to each other and who would end up giving up. At this point, I think we were pretty even though...there was no winner...just a lot of laughs and good jabs at one another. People who know my father know exactly what I'm talking about.

I'm sure that eventually I will post some memories but more sadness is to come...this much I know about myself...the coming days are going to be extremely difficult and blogging is my way of expressing.

See, I'm a mess today...can't seem to find a way in which to end this post...so on that note.............

Peace for the weary

Well, my father passed away at 9:39 this morning: April 20th, 2008. While it's been a hard couple of weeks with many many tears and a chest weighted with pain, I am doing ok and very relieved and happy for my dad. I led myself to believe all day that my father was in fact wrapping his warmth, love and security around all of us and telling us that he is in a good place, that he is ok. That sun shined down warm and strong with a gentle breeze. Many times I closed my eyes today and raised my face up to the sun and breathed it in, and felt engulfed with love.

I have met a certain peace as has he. There were mumblings among the family members that yesterday there was rain or as the mumblings went, my fathers tears. For all his suffering and inability to say his words to us, it was very hard not to believe that that rain was his tears touching upon us in some way.

Tonight we sat at his and mom's house and looked through pictures and every once in awhile I would look up and seek out his scent, his voice, his breathing and realize that it wasn't there Then I would hang my head and reflect on the last couple of weeks, all the few but very special moments I shared with my dad and blink my tears back and continue on looking at old photos of him in preparation for his new journey in life.

I may very well be in denial at this point but I feel so free, not for me but for him. The last 3 days with him were very painful to see. I hope I didn't make the mistake of not allowing my 9-year old little guy not to see him. I just didn't want him to remember his grandpa that way. The last time he saw his grandpa in the hospital last week, he got the usual, 'how's my Bug-Man', a hug and some small talk. That was only a few days before, none of that was there. My son cried hard when he saw me tonight and buried his face in my shoulder. This little boy never shows me that kind of affection and acts a lot like his grandpa...tall and strong. It just broke my heart to see him so upset and made me question my decisions with all of this. But then I thought about it and thought that his grandpa wouldn't have wanted his little Bug-Man to see him in such a state either. Nor would my father have allowed us in that room if he could have willed the strength to tell us to get the hell out of there.

My dad was a strong man. It's strange talking in the past tense like this. To me he is and always will be a strong man. Not in physical but in mental and emotional. He fought hard, met many hurdles in this life, with all his health issues, conquered some but then lost others and in the end, even though things were happening to him that were not in his control, there was a moment with him that I will never forget.

My brother in Kosovo. It was devastating and surreal to have to get that ball rolling so he could get home in time. The itinerary came in via his wife and I was to deliver this news to our father on Saturday. I tried once but I don't think he heard me as he was focusing too much on other things. I was a little sad by this because whenever my brother's name was mentioned before it always seemed to perk him up. When it didn't....

After a major struggle last night and then the calm after the storm, it was at that time that we said a rosary with him and mom. After that, some special time alone with him before we headed off to bed would be granted to all of us by each other. After awhile I came to see if there was anyone by his bedside. For the first time in 2-weeks, there was no one. He looked so alone and it pained me to see him all alone. I wasn't really ready to say what needed to be said but I forced myself in there.

I spoke to him, said some words. I'm not sure if he heard me or not but continued on because I knew I had to say some things to him. In the midst of it all, I spoke my brother's name. My father responded with the quietest 'yes'. I told him my brother would be arriving on Monday/tomorrow (it was 4:00am this morning). I told him the time, that my brother couldn't wait to see him--he responded 'yes' again and his bottom lip came up...he was trying to speak but was too weak, but man he tried so hard. I told him that it was ok, I understood and he didn't need to waste his energy. I told him that my brother loves him, that my brother's wife loves him...after this, I was quiet and kissed him. Then I began to speak a little more...asked him a yes/no question...there was no response. He had gone back to resting.

I was glad that he heard me, glad that he knew his 'guardian angel' was on his way. Having our brother away has been very hard, talking with his wife has brought so many tears and emotions, text messaging my brother, the pain that has been felt for my brother and his wife has been indescribable. Even now.

My brother boarded his plane at 9:00am this morning our time. When that plane lifted off the ground, I do not know. I will forever believe that my father felt that his son was on his way, that he knew his son was coming home for him. People say that others wait for a special thing before they leave this life. Brother, you are it.

I ache for you but at the same time the love that I saw coming from our father for you is beyond words. A picture of my brother and a picture of my father's dog hung in his hospital room for most of my father's hospital stay. The pride my father would exude when asked who the 'handsome' soldier was that looks just like my father...my dad's reply was always...that's my son, my Guardian Angel. Those two pictures were my dad's guardian angels watching over him. Even now it makes me feel warm inside to write those words.

In the end, I know that sadness will linger deep inside for awhile. But I also know that eventually, time heals all wounds. As I said above, I am relieved for my dad but selfishly sad for myself and my family here in this house. The memories will be forever though and soon enough those memories will be talked about for the rest of my life.

You are so very loved Dad, so very special. May you now rest peacefully. I will forever love you....

Realizations

I am taking another breather today. The weight of the stress in both my head in my heart is becoming just too much.

Two days ago, things were going well for my dad. He was up and walking, cheery, talkative and excited about the prospect of getting out of the hospital so he could sleep again.

Well, yesterday just wasn't as uplifting. He had a rough day yesterday, one that continued into today. His vitals are all really good and one would think that he would be able to just walk out if all that is normal. Not the case.

I'm having a pretty bad day today...tired, cranky, on edge...just not a good day, a good week.

Perhaps it's because I sat in his room with him and mom for most of the day yesterday and I got to see a lot. Progressions of sorts from one thing to the next. I was pretty torn up to have to leave but as I said before, that pull that I feel to be here or there...and what can I do for him but watch him, ache for him and for mom, "will" my own organs into his body so he can get better, just anything.

I guess I'm at a point of realization, the realization that no matter how much I love, how much I pray that one day the inevitable will happen. I know, that is morbid but the phases that I myself have been experiencing through all of this, the growing, the adjusting...

Dad is doing ok again today, as best as he was when I left him yesterday but is tired. Visitors, phone calls, nurses, all the procedures he's undergone...he is just tired.

Anyway...I must go now. Pat and I are going to have a dinner together tonight. I just need some time with him I think, some time to focus on things that I've been neglecting.

Updates

As I sit in my house it seems I find myself trying furiously to become reacquainted with what was just a reality about 6 days ago. Homework, children, chores, etc are all the last thing I have had on my mind this week.

My dad is still in the hospital. The day I wrote last, things were very up in the air. Today, well, I can't say that much more has been learned while at the same time many things have been learned.

My dad had heart failure due to calcium build up in the middle artery of his heart. Last Saturday/early Sunday moring he was ambulanced to the hospital with difficulty breathing. The following day, we all just thought it was perhaps the same sort of episode he experienced before and since he was chipper on the phone and being his old self, our guard was down. He seemed well, ate like a horse for dinner and was feeling good.

Sunday night is when things just started going terribly wrong. One of my sisters was in the room with him and he wanted to sit up a little. She helped him to sit up and then a nurse came in and adjusted him a little more and he experienced some pain and he was having difficulty breathing. It was at this point that the breathing tube was placed in him and he was placed in an induced coma.

The docs have since explained many things to us...his kidneys are only working at 15% due to his diabetes, the breathing problems were due to fluid build up from the clogged artery--somehow it was separating from his heart and leaking fluids into his lungs. Basically, his organs are in distress.

He was removed from the breathing machine a couple days ago, has been awake and talking but he is very weak and tired. He has been joking here and there with us but it takes a lot for him to talk let alone joke around.

Thankfully he's been able to talk to my brother in Kosovo a couple of times since the procedure on Monday. My brother is having a very hard time with this being alone and I am so very sad and worried for him and feel so damn helpless because I can only text him so much information and do so without trying to freak him out. My heart is very heavy.

We are in the waiting phases of things at this point. Due to the angiogram, they had to inject dye into his system which could have, on that day caused a heart attack because his heart is weak and we are awaiting to see if in fact that dye did any more damage to his kidneys. The angiogram was done on Monday or Tuesday? I am very lost in my days right now and things are a blur but I believe it was on Tuesday?

I cannot begin to tell you all how very sad that morning was for all of us. A priest came in to say the 'Annointing of the Sick' prayer and many of us lost it. It was horrible and I just cannot even think about it now without wanting to break down in a convulsion of tears.

My mind is all over the place. We have horrible weather now, my son is sick with a fever and a cough so I am home today to take care of him and am terrified of my phone ringing with more news. Every time my phone rings, my heart races, I panic and I just don't even want to answer it.

We found out this morning that my dad had a pretty rough night last night. He was put back on the catheter and is very tired. He had a rough day yesterday...due to the weather he had numerous visitors, the docs have started some therapy to get him up and moving again...he is just weak.

I apologize that this post is so morbid, so erratic. My heart is very heavy...so much so that I can feel it's weight in my chest. My stomach is in knots, my mind is a jumbled mess and it dawns on me every so often that life goes on. Even as I scream inside....

My dad is my anchor, my mom is my shining star. The two of them this week have been going through hell and there isn't a single thing that I can do to take away all their own thoughts, worries, pains, fears...NOTHING.

I can only continue to pray, to tell them that I love them, and to reassure my mom that we are ok that she need not worry about us kids...

Ugh, I'm just rambling now but figure its something I must need to do..please keep my mom and dad in your prayers as they endure the many emotions...that is the best I think I can do for them at this point......

Warning; A post that is dripping with sadness

Photo courtesy of the Star Tribune/contributed by the family

I refrained from posting on this story simply because it just broke my heart. However, a year later, I must note the loss because I feel for this family for all that they've been through.

Last summer, a little girl named Abigail Taylor experienced a horrible and tragic thing. While most kids and even parents wouldn't think twice about a swimming pool other than who could make the bigger splash, the story of Abigail will change that forever.

I cannot discuss this on my blog because the mere thought of the pain this girl must have experienced is beyond any words and I cannot imagine the horror the parents must have felt when they discovered what happened; even writing what I am now is difficult because it's not really something a parent wants to even imagine...writing about it brings that memory back and it makes my heart hurt. And that it ended her life ultimately...it's a tragedy that a parent or a child of 6 should not ever have to experience.

But this family did and for that I can only hang my head and write about my sadness for them, for their baby girl, for them, for those who loved her.

My thoughts are with you and I only wish that the clock could be turned back to a new day.....

A speedy reovery and our thoughts to the Pohl family as well as the Golden Gophers

Brian Peterson, Star Tribune
The above photo is just after the hit occurred and one that will haunt my hubby for the rest of his life:

In the past, I have talked about how Pat LOVES hockey and football and how when he indulges it gives me mooch o computer time as well as the ability for myself to over indulge on Lifetime.

However, as with most people, when a player is injured, it's not something that I turn away from. I always stop and make sure that the player is ok, can get up and skate away or walk off the field. And let's face it, I do have a secret. I can get wrapped up in the occasional Gopher hockey game or even a Viking's game. But it's a mood thing.

While I don't think I've EVER posted anything about sports other than about the kids and soccer, this post will be an exception.

Tom Pohl, a University of MN hockey player was injured last night. And yes, hockey is a dangerous game and a play at your own risk sort of game. All the same, my opinion of this hit that Pohl took, well, lets just say that each time I thought about it today I just fumed.

Last night, I was in the kitchen getting something to munch on and I heard a heart-wrenching, freeze in your steps, bone chilling gasp and an "OH NO" and an "Oh my God" and the worst was "Please move, please get up, he hasn't moved, his legs aren't moving..."

Hockey injuries are never minor, no matter how you look at it. Last night's game was going well, Pat was in the back hall telling our 16-year old daughter to come out because it was a really good game, a typical playoff scenario when it's Gopher season. I was prepared for the overtimes...but I wasn't watching.

Anyway, the worried voices coming from the living room...I dropped everything and rushed into the living room knowing that what I was going to see was a man laid out on the ice...for 13 minutes, our family stood riveted, looking for any sort of movement from Pohl, ANYTHING.

We waited and waited for the replay and it seemed to take forever...it was hell and that sinking feeling in the stomach. The looks of all the players as their team mate was being worked on, the crowd and their worried faces but mostly the deadly silence. It was probably the eeriest part.

Then it was time to see the replay. I guess I myself am of the opinion that if the injury is as serious as a 13-minute lag in the game, then chances are that hit was something that was above and beyond 'legal' in hockey terms. That has been my experience but then again, that isn't always the case.

Once I saw the hit, I was pissed off. Mostly because what my eyes were seeing was a hit that may have very well been ok but it was the follow through, the angle, and the pure intent that was there. In reading numerous com- mentors, I have questioned my opinion thinking that because it was a Gopher who was hurt, my heart hurt more.

But I have sat and watched this video over and over and the more I watch it, the more angry I get. While this Wiley character may not have meant to hurt Pohl to the extreme that he did, it seems to me that he did intend to hurt him to some extent. The follow through of the hit is what is most damning, the elbow and the way Wiley came 'up' with it, the helmet flying off of Pohl's head, the angle at which Wiley came in.

Last night, it was a broken nose and a concussion and not much more on the news, which in and of itself just didn't seem right for the amount of time that was spent on that ice. And apparently there was an awful amount of blood. I got a glance at his face and saw the blood around the nose but the camera quickly moved away.

You know how people just know that silence is a bad sign? That less said always leaves a bad feeling? Well, Pat and I were talking about it last night and this morning it was whoever heard what first, please call. Pat of course heard and called me. It was bad news...a skull fracture, blood in his brain and he needed to be medivac-ed to Rochester to have brain surgery. Talk about a sinking feeling. Pohl is said to be doing ok, that he is on the road to recovery but really, brain surgery isn't a minor surgery...that uncomfortable feeling just won't leave because one just knows that there is still a chance....God, I am praying that this kid will be ok.

Because I have been so out of sorts about this, I had to post on it. Sorry, I just couldn't help myself because it was just one of those things that nags at a person...getting it off my chest always makes it a little better.

Please though, keep Tom Pohl and his family in your thoughts and prayers. I would also like to note that Tom's brother John Pohl, is a player for the Toronto Mapleleafs as well as a former Gopher.

As always, click on the links throughout the post for more. The video is on the right of one of the stories.

A horrible and heartwrenching tragedy

There was a bad bus accident in Minnesota yesterday that is under intense investigation as I write this. Four young kids were killed and many injured. There are bus accidents but never have I heard of this many children dying or being injured.

While the death of two of the children is horrible and my heart certainly goes out to the parents, two of the other children were brothers. The same ages as my two youngest and the mere thought of what the parents and family members must be going through losing not one, but 2 of their children makes me absolutely nauseous. Honestly, I don't know that I could cope with a loss like this.

Please keep all the families and the children in your prayers. I'm sure I'll be updating this once more is learned about what happened but here is one of the articles.

From left to right: Emilee Olson; 9-years, Reed Stevens; 12-years, Hunter Javens ; 9-years, and Jesse Javens; 13-years.