A bad day

I had a rough one this week.  I started the day by getting a flat on my bike after running over a rock near a construction site.  Luckily I had my phone and Scott could come get me - otherwise I'd be walking 5 miles home (at the time I didn't know how to change a flat).

Then I took Alayna and her friend shopping while the guys went to see a movie.  A little Hobby Lobby - ok, you can never stop with a "little" at Hobby Lobby!  I had to run into Ulta Beauty to refresh some of my makeup supply (getting old is rough, and expensive!).  While in the store, I knocked over not one but THREE displays.  I gave up and went home.

While making an impromptu dinner for the kids before VBS, I tried to cut  my finger off while chopping up a green pepper.  Thank got for fingernails and bandaids!

With my finger taped up, I dropped the kids off and took my tire in to my favorite local bike shop, Bikesmith, where Allen gave me a lesson on how to repair a flat tire. On my way out of the store, with my tire in my hand, I managed to clip the end bicycle in a display and knocked down a hole row.  Of brand new bicycles.  I left with black hands and my tail between my legs.

I continued to my next stop, Walmart, and directly to the washroom to clean up.  Well, after having 5 kids, my full bladder couldn't wait until I had finished washing my hands.  You know the running water and all.  Yes, I was THAT woman.

I made it home after getting the kids, added a little Blue Chair Bay to my Coke and tucked myself into bed, before I could cause any more problems.

Did I mention that Scott installed our bedroom TV on a wall mount while I was out?  This means the bedroom furniture needed to be rearranged.  I had no more energy that evening, and decided to wait until the morning.  Big mistake.  Scott was gone, and I couldn't wait - so I moved things by myself.  Until I moved an antique wooden sewing table over my foot.  Yes, dad, I was not wearing shoes.  So now I have a purple, possibly broken toe to add to my "bad day".

But you know what?  I just laughed.  Mostly because it was all so stupid it was funny.  But, this minor stuff is just that.  It's minor.  I have a very different definition of a "bad day" now.  Most of the time I have to shove the memories of that day out of my head.  That day that my world changed.  Because that was only ONE day - yes it was the worst day a mother could have, but I have to force myself to focus on ALL of the OTHER days.  The ones before, and the ones since.  Because even when the fates pile up a load of crap in 24 hours, it still can't compare.

Laugh at yourself.  Laugh at your mistakes.  Life is too short to focus on the bad days.

Happy Birthday, Dylan.

Well, we made it back from SC with our sanity.  Or what's left of it.

I was going to try to write on July 7 - but I just could not.  I couldn't reply to texts and messages from friends offering support.  It was just too hard.

For the first few seconds after waking up on July 7, I actually forgot.  This was the day I have been dreading for a while.  Then I looked at my phone and I remembered.  And then I felt horrible for forgetting at first.

You see, July 7th at 5:57am I held my silvery haired baby boy for the first time.  He was so warm, and LOUD.  But he was here.  And all I could remember, no matter how hard I tried, was his warmth - and that would bring the memories of the last time I touched him and how cold he was.

We were staying at a house on the beach for my sister's wedding held 2 days before.  It was just gorgeous.  We arrived on July 4th and it was beautiful.  My dad and his wife, my sister and her family were all there.  But between it being Dylan's favorite holiday - and we were all here - except HIM, I felt his absence more than ever.  My chest ached.  My eyes strained to keep the tears back - after all we were there to celebrate.  Celebrate the 4th.  Celebrate my sister's marriage on the 5th.  And celebrate Dylan on the 7th.  I just didn't feel like celebrating even with all of the beauty around me.


After waking, I went downstairs and tried to hold it in.  Do you know what it's like when you have to go to the bathroom REALLY REALLY badly?  And you are holding it in because you just can't get there, but you know it's coming?  That's how I felt.  I decided I needed a walk to be alone.  I had known I wanted to be on the beach alone with him that day, so I decided it was time.

The beach access was right across from the house.  The tears started before I hit the sand.  I was wearing sunglasses.  The tide was out, but coming back in.  I only walked about 200 yards before I had to stop because I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe.  I decided to sit where I stopped and wait for the tide to come to me.  That is the time I gave myself to be sad.  Then the water would wash my tears from the sand and I would have the courage to face the day without him.

While sitting there I cried.  Like the waves coming in and out, they would come and go.  I watched a small rock being battered by the waves - its journey up the beach wasn't easy.  It would climb a few feet only to be knocked back down by the next wave.  I won't belabor the analogous imagery.  I'm guessing you get what I'm trying to say.

After walking back, I was able to hold the tears in and enjoy time with the family at the pool, at the beach and on the golf cart. All things Dylan loved.  I hired a photographer and we went to Huntington Beach (highly recommend it for a day trip) and we took some family photos.  This is not something Dylan would have liked!  I couldn't watch pictures of the kids being taken, because I knew I would start to cry.  Then we went for a birthday dinner, a tradition in our family.  See, we have the majority of birthdays between May and August every year, so we always get together at some point to celebrate all the birthdays.  This happened to fall on Dylan's birthday this year.  I had done well, but being with everyone - without him was becoming harder and harder.  And the table they gave us was for 14 people, not 13, so there was an empty chair - highlighting his absence.

Then the newborn baby started crying.

And I couldn't hold it in anymore.

All the images of Dylan as a baby came flooding back - and then of course - the images of the last time I saw him.  

I tried to sit there and let the tears slide down my face quietly, but it didn't work for long and I had to leave.  I had another good cry there in the parking lot while the new dad tried to console his baby screaming.

When everyone came out after finishing their meals, we loaded up and headed back to the house.  By the time we got back (after an ice cream stop), I was able to pull myself together again and enjoy the evening.

I do not have the words to express the pain I felt that day.  I would not wish it on my worst enemy.  Even with the pain, I choose to celebrate his life.  It is not always easy.  And some days I don't do a very good job of it.  But I keep moving forward.

Happy Birthday, Dylan.  I love you and miss you so much.  I hope you had a wonderful celebration and you could truly enjoy your day without pain.

What is a shadow?

As we are driving through North Carolina on our way to Myrtle Beach for my sister's wedding, I began thinking of what we were doing last year on the 4th of July.  My sister, her fiance, his daughter and her kiddos came up from SC to stay at my dad's "river house" as a one last get together.  They were in the process of selling to retire to Tennessee, so we knew this would probably be the last time we were all together there.

"The river" is a huge part of my life.  I grew up spending the weekends boating, swimming and skiing on the Muskingum river with my sister and my dad.  My dad's friends at the river are considered part of the family - my aunts and uncles.  They have been there for graduations, marraiges, births and deaths. When I had kids, I wanted them to experience the magic of "the river" as well.  We didn't go every weekend, but a few times every summer and everyone looked forward to it.

It turns out, July 4, 2014 would be the last time we were all together in the same place.  I remember sitting out on the lawn when my sister introduced the game "bullshit" to the kids (renamed bullcrap).  We played and played and had great time.  We all did.  I remember Dylan laughing as we played.  He was really good at the game *a little too good.

However, my memories are different now because of the grief shadow.  I've been asked what this means.  Why is it called a shadow?

Imagine sitting out in the yard on a cool day.  Naturally you find a nice sunny spot and you feel great.  While sitting there, you see the shadow of the oak tree on the grass nearby.  You can see the outline of each leaf fluttering in the wind.  It is a monochromatic copy of the tree, not nearly as magnificient as the original.  While daydreaming, you watch the shadow creep closer and closer as the Earth turns and the sun's angle changes the position of the shadow.  Eventually it catches up with you, and you feel chilled.  You move a little to be back in the warmth and light of the sun, but the shadow catches up to you again.

The memories of the past and the experiences of today are shadowed by grief.  The details are all there, but the wonder and majesty of the experience has been dulled.  For example, my memories of last 4th of July would normally warm my heart. Now, as I remember the fun, I also experience the pain of grief as I think of Dylan not being with us this year.  Of the loss.  Of the heartache.  And tears sting my eyes and my throat aches with cries of a loss so deep it shadows every aspect of existence.

Sometimes I find the edge of the shadow where the light is a little brighter, but it always catches up to me.

Often, people say to me, "I think of you often, I just don't know what to say."  Believe me, I wouldn't know what to say either.  There are no words that could ease this pain.  One thing that does help is to let me talk about him, his personality, the memories and my feelings without it being awkward.  We talk about Dylan often in our house.  He is still part of our lives.  You don't have to ask how I'm doing.  Honestly, it is very difficult for me to answer this.  I spend a lot of energy trying to keep myself together and answering that can quickly bring on the tears (depending on the day/time/minute).  Especially in a public place or social setting.  I've had experiences such that just the mention of Dylan's name instantly stops the conversation and brings on very awkward silence.  That is hard and it honestly hurts.

So we are headed to the beach for the 4th with the whole family, and the absence of Dylan is almost unbearable.  Yesterday when we stopped at Panera, and I approached our table to sit, it just didn't feel right.  We were all there, except Dylan.  Although he is always with me, us, in our hearts, his physical absence is always felt.

Enjoiy your 4th.  Enjoy your family - even the ones that drive you nuts.  Be safe.  And be kind.

Inside Out

July 1, 2015

Last Sunday Scott and I took the kids to see the new Disney movie "Inside Out".  I had heard it was a great movie from several friends.  My kids are getting a little old for Disney movies, but many times they have great messages. 

Given what our family has been through, I was curious as to how the movie would personify the feelings we have all been  navigating for the last 10 months.  I would say they did a pretty good job, since Scott and I were both sobbing by the end of the movie.  For me, there was two reasons.  There are 5 "feelings" in the movie: Joy, Disgust, Anger, Sadness and Fear.  Initially I wondered why they chose only these five, given the many emotions we go through.  The conflict in the movie happens when Riley (the little girl) loses sadness and joy.  She is left with anger, fear and disgust.  I saw Dylan.  He did not have happiness but he did not have sadness either.  Why couldn't I see that?  Sadness is necessary.  It is important to be able to express that.  This made me ache for Dylan and want to hold him and cry with him.

Last night, there was one of those Facebook quizzes "Which Inside Out Feeling Are You?", and based on 10 seemingly wacko questions - I found I am "Sadness".  That seems about right.  I do not move like Eyeore, but sadness can look different on different people.  Life is about balance - even our feelings.  Joy, Sadness, Fear, Anger and Disgust are all valuable feelings - but they need to be balanced.  Even Joy.  I am out of balance, and I believe I will be for a long time.  I am Sadness.  I'm not sure if I will ever feel Joy again.

At this point 17 years ago, I was very pregnant and awaiting the arrival of my second little boy.  I remember watching fireworks and Zach yelling "Firecrackers BOOM BOOM" over and over.  I never thought that I would only get 16 years with Dylan.  Every day I wish I had cherished those years, days, minutes a little more.  I am left only with memories, his artwork and pictures.

Parents, please cherish every second of your children.  The good and the bad.  The Joy and the Anger.  The Fear and the Disgust.  It may be gone all too soon.