...that at the end of some of the best days I have, I feel the most pain and loneliness about Mark? That seems opposite to me. The good times should make me happy and sustain me. But I've noticed that when I'm feeling my best and thankful throughout the day, those are the nights that I feel the worst and the saddest (at least when V. is not here).
It strikes me as odd but I guess I should be thankful since before I was sad and weepy during the day and then haunted at night. So happy during the day and sad at night should be an improvement, right? Yeah, I guess so, I'm just not used to this new, sad normal. While Mark was alive, I knew he was going to die but until that reality is smashed against your face, you're always in some state of denial though you don't realize it until afterwards; a few seconds afterwards, a few hours, days, months - it still doesn't seem real to be honest. But my mind remembers it picture perfect and it is more than real, horrifically so. Past bad dreams have nothing on what current bad dreams are. There are better days waiting for me ahead, I just know it. There just has to be...
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I've Got A Great Girl
I've decided with the way my life has been playing out that I'm all about creating life experiences and memories for I. A couple of things have shaped this new philosophy:
Who knows how long we have with our loved ones? If you wait for the "right time" it may never come or pass you by. What happens if something happens that makes it impossible for me to experience/make a memory with I.?
I want to make memories as a family. I've been waiting for when we can do things as a family and all these years later after Mark has died, I see that those times may never come and it may be too late. The only time is now, present day.
So with all that in mind, I decided I was taking I. roller skating today to make it feel like a Sunday. When V. is gone, it is a major struggle to make weekends feel like weekends rather than just another weekday. I. has shown interest in ice skating so I figured roller skating would be a good transition to ice skating.
Boy was I wrong! Roller skating at 3 years old is really difficult! I. looked like a spaz out there, falling down constantly, and flailing in between the falls. But you know what? We had a great time because each time she fell down and looked up at me, I was smiling and laughing and so was she. It was so hot we were drenched after the first, very long lap but we made it still standing. There were 2 times where we were both so sweaty that she slipped out of my grip and took the full impact of her fall and started crying but she recovered relatively quickly. One time, I scooped her up in my arms and whisked her around the rink to give her the experience of speed. However, she didn't really enjoy it because she wanted her independence of doing it on her own.
Afterwards, I talked to her about how proud I was of her because no matter how many times she fell, she got up, smiling, and tried again. I heard other mothers holding I. up as the example of not giving up to their older children and even had a much older girl tell me how impressed she was by I. getting up every time and keep trying.
I was so impressed by I.. She is me cubed, at the very least. To get up from falling a hundred times is one thing, to get up smiling is a whole 'nother animal. I. is amazing and I'm so proud of her. I knew how exhausting it was to me today, figured how exhausting it was to her, but didn't count on her passing out within 10 minutes. She is a great girl and I'm so lucky to have her!
Who knows how long we have with our loved ones? If you wait for the "right time" it may never come or pass you by. What happens if something happens that makes it impossible for me to experience/make a memory with I.?
I want to make memories as a family. I've been waiting for when we can do things as a family and all these years later after Mark has died, I see that those times may never come and it may be too late. The only time is now, present day.
So with all that in mind, I decided I was taking I. roller skating today to make it feel like a Sunday. When V. is gone, it is a major struggle to make weekends feel like weekends rather than just another weekday. I. has shown interest in ice skating so I figured roller skating would be a good transition to ice skating.
Boy was I wrong! Roller skating at 3 years old is really difficult! I. looked like a spaz out there, falling down constantly, and flailing in between the falls. But you know what? We had a great time because each time she fell down and looked up at me, I was smiling and laughing and so was she. It was so hot we were drenched after the first, very long lap but we made it still standing. There were 2 times where we were both so sweaty that she slipped out of my grip and took the full impact of her fall and started crying but she recovered relatively quickly. One time, I scooped her up in my arms and whisked her around the rink to give her the experience of speed. However, she didn't really enjoy it because she wanted her independence of doing it on her own.
Afterwards, I talked to her about how proud I was of her because no matter how many times she fell, she got up, smiling, and tried again. I heard other mothers holding I. up as the example of not giving up to their older children and even had a much older girl tell me how impressed she was by I. getting up every time and keep trying.
I was so impressed by I.. She is me cubed, at the very least. To get up from falling a hundred times is one thing, to get up smiling is a whole 'nother animal. I. is amazing and I'm so proud of her. I knew how exhausting it was to me today, figured how exhausting it was to her, but didn't count on her passing out within 10 minutes. She is a great girl and I'm so lucky to have her!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I.'s Compassion
After last night ended on a bummer note (see Venting post below), I decided, as I trudged along on the treadmill, that I had better really start concentrating on the positive aspects of my life since the negative ones aren't appearing to let up in the near future. I had my little kumbaya moment as I went through all the great things I'm lucky to have and felt a little better.
On the way home from the gym, my phone signalled a text message and what a surprise, it was from a guy friend that I was looking forward to having lunch with in an hour after taking Isabella to school. Cancelling again one hour before. Okay, he had to go to a work event but this stupid thing just hit his calendar an hour earlier? That seems pretty lame. Plus, he had to cancel last Wednesday due to too many meetings and then cancelled Thursday because of another last minute work event. Even when I was in the workforce, if I made plans with someone, I did everything to make sure I made it. It's called being DEPENDABLE.
But wait, here's the good part and today I'm not being sarcastic, I'm serious. I. asks, "What's wrong Mommy?" and I tell her that my friend says he can't have lunch with me and this is the 3rd time he's done this so it kind of hurts my feelings. I. sits there quietly as I park the car in the garage and then as she holds the door to the house open for me to go through she says, "What can I do for you to make you happy Mommy?" She's 3 years old and still figures the world pretty much is all about her so you could have knocked me over with a feather. In fact, just to make sure I heard her right, I asked her to repeat what she said and she said the same thing.
I told her that if she would just give me a big hug and kiss that I would be happy and so she did. And you know what? I was incredibly happy because under her feisty exterior, I. is very sensitive, caring, and compassionate. I saw it with Mark but haven't really experienced it myself (familiarity breeds contempt you know) and it was so great being on the receiving end. Of course, I did have to reach back and pat myself on the back because I have been trying to cultivate that quality in her since Mark got sick and I guess I was successful. Something so beautiful has risen from the depths of something so tragic and sad and that's pretty amazing.
On the way home from the gym, my phone signalled a text message and what a surprise, it was from a guy friend that I was looking forward to having lunch with in an hour after taking Isabella to school. Cancelling again one hour before. Okay, he had to go to a work event but this stupid thing just hit his calendar an hour earlier? That seems pretty lame. Plus, he had to cancel last Wednesday due to too many meetings and then cancelled Thursday because of another last minute work event. Even when I was in the workforce, if I made plans with someone, I did everything to make sure I made it. It's called being DEPENDABLE.
But wait, here's the good part and today I'm not being sarcastic, I'm serious. I. asks, "What's wrong Mommy?" and I tell her that my friend says he can't have lunch with me and this is the 3rd time he's done this so it kind of hurts my feelings. I. sits there quietly as I park the car in the garage and then as she holds the door to the house open for me to go through she says, "What can I do for you to make you happy Mommy?" She's 3 years old and still figures the world pretty much is all about her so you could have knocked me over with a feather. In fact, just to make sure I heard her right, I asked her to repeat what she said and she said the same thing.
I told her that if she would just give me a big hug and kiss that I would be happy and so she did. And you know what? I was incredibly happy because under her feisty exterior, I. is very sensitive, caring, and compassionate. I saw it with Mark but haven't really experienced it myself (familiarity breeds contempt you know) and it was so great being on the receiving end. Of course, I did have to reach back and pat myself on the back because I have been trying to cultivate that quality in her since Mark got sick and I guess I was successful. Something so beautiful has risen from the depths of something so tragic and sad and that's pretty amazing.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Venting...
So let me get this right...you're pretty sure you'll make it home for Vegas but you can't commit to making it home for your daughter's 4 year old birthday?! Really? After missing Christmas last year and I'm predicting probably this coming Christmas too? Why don't you realize that she is old enough to remember this crap and that it's always been just her mommy here to raise her?????!!!!! So tired of us always being in last place, at least it translates that way.
You'll be sorry and YES I'M TAKING ALL THE CREDIT FOR HER BEING SO EMOTIONALLY HEALTHY, HAPPY, INDEPENDENT, AND WELL ADJUSTED. I've been here 24/7 and you've been effectively gone SINCE SHE WAS 4 MONTHS OLD. I'm tired of not being able to plan any fun things - Seinfeld concert in December (oh sorry, I probably won't be there), Lion King around her birthday (oh sorry, I probably won't be there for that either).
YOU'RE NOT JUST A F*ING PAYCHECK TO ME! WHERE IS OUR LIFE TOGETHER?!
This just makes me miss Mark all the more.
You'll be sorry and YES I'M TAKING ALL THE CREDIT FOR HER BEING SO EMOTIONALLY HEALTHY, HAPPY, INDEPENDENT, AND WELL ADJUSTED. I've been here 24/7 and you've been effectively gone SINCE SHE WAS 4 MONTHS OLD. I'm tired of not being able to plan any fun things - Seinfeld concert in December (oh sorry, I probably won't be there), Lion King around her birthday (oh sorry, I probably won't be there for that either).
YOU'RE NOT JUST A F*ING PAYCHECK TO ME! WHERE IS OUR LIFE TOGETHER?!
This just makes me miss Mark all the more.
A New Diet
Woo hoo! I've discovered a really great new diet that is guaranteed to melt 10 pounds off of you in 2 short months! Aren't you interested?! No grapefruits, laxatives, or purgings are involved - see, that sounds good already, doesn't it? Nope, all you've got to do is watch someone your own age who happens to be your best friend for over a decade, die right in front you -
S
L
O
W
L
Y
Yeah, that's all it takes. 'Cause today when I got on the scale 2 months to the day that Mark died, I was 10 pounds lighter. I stepped off the scale, said a silent "thank you" to Mark, and went on with my gym workout. Honestly, what else could I do?
So, do I have any takers? Anyone desperate enough to lose 10 pounds in 2 months? Yes, this is a really sarcastic, cynical post. It barely hides the anger that surges up today as I rage against something unseen but so unfair. I miss my friend so very much. The pain may soften but the missing-him feelings intensify as time marches on.
S
L
O
W
L
Y
Yeah, that's all it takes. 'Cause today when I got on the scale 2 months to the day that Mark died, I was 10 pounds lighter. I stepped off the scale, said a silent "thank you" to Mark, and went on with my gym workout. Honestly, what else could I do?
So, do I have any takers? Anyone desperate enough to lose 10 pounds in 2 months? Yes, this is a really sarcastic, cynical post. It barely hides the anger that surges up today as I rage against something unseen but so unfair. I miss my friend so very much. The pain may soften but the missing-him feelings intensify as time marches on.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Yes, I Am Aware
Yes, I am aware that tomorrow is exactly 2 months to the day that Mark died. More importantly, I'm remembering coming home 2 months ago at 11:30pm, exhausted and wondering if Mark would still be alive when I woke up. I went to sleep after 1am (I'm a person who needs 8-9 hours of sleep), put the phone next to me in the bed just in case, and was happy when I woke up in the morning knowing that Mark had made it through the night. Now I know the horrible reality of what tomorrow morning 2 months ago would bring but it still doesn't penetrate reality right now.
I'm sure that it will tomorrow. I'll let you know.
I'm sure that it will tomorrow. I'll let you know.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Helpful Words from Unexpected Sources
I've been in recent communication with the past teacher of the Mommy and Me class that I. and I were involved in for the past 2 years. She is a therapist by trade and used to work with hospice and was aware of Mark. We just recently had some email contact and in our exchanges, she wrote some things that helped me unexpectedly.
"Grief is hard work. You gave Mark such a gift to be the kind of friend willing to walk that painful road with him. I've seen many people who did not have friends as... brave, selfless, loving. He was lucky to have you.
I'm glad to hear you are feeling a little bit better. His greatest legacy will be in giving something positive to your life and the lives of others he loved --- not in destroying those lives because of grief. It honors him to find joy again."
When I read it, I felt proud and relieved that I was this kind of friend to Mark because truly that is the kind of friendship we had throughout life, so why not at the end of it as well? Of course, this leads me to think of who will be there to walk me to the end of the road and that scares me since I don't make friends all that easily.
It also made me feel more okay with the fact that I am feeling more like myself and less raw. Yes, the pain is softening. Can I eat 3 full meals a day? No, but that's where I'm at right now. I'm functioning, not miserable and sobbing, and starting to be able to think about the times Mark and I had together during our years together. Yes, that last week, the last long hug, the last time we spoke to each other, the last time we smiled broadly at each other - it all still haunts me. Mostly because all those "lasts" took place late Sunday afternoon and he was dead by Thursday morning. It's just so surreal how fast it happened but even more surreal because it feels/felt like those were the longest 4 days of my life. It's like a bad dream really.
Then I think back to what I.'s teacher said about giving Mark the gift of being a friend that walks that painful road with him and that makes me feel warm inside; not quite happy, just warm. Because I know I did the right thing and that means a lot to me when it comes to Mark. It may have cost me alot personally, but the fact that he knew I was there before he slipped into unconsciousness and was responding to what I was whispering to him towards the end, makes the pain very worthwhile.
Grief is hard work! I have noticed that the nights I have dreams about Mark, I am more exhausted the next day even if I have gone to bed at a decent time and have gotten a little extra sleep. I'll just have to continue my journey and see where it leads me.
"Grief is hard work. You gave Mark such a gift to be the kind of friend willing to walk that painful road with him. I've seen many people who did not have friends as... brave, selfless, loving. He was lucky to have you.
I'm glad to hear you are feeling a little bit better. His greatest legacy will be in giving something positive to your life and the lives of others he loved --- not in destroying those lives because of grief. It honors him to find joy again."
When I read it, I felt proud and relieved that I was this kind of friend to Mark because truly that is the kind of friendship we had throughout life, so why not at the end of it as well? Of course, this leads me to think of who will be there to walk me to the end of the road and that scares me since I don't make friends all that easily.
It also made me feel more okay with the fact that I am feeling more like myself and less raw. Yes, the pain is softening. Can I eat 3 full meals a day? No, but that's where I'm at right now. I'm functioning, not miserable and sobbing, and starting to be able to think about the times Mark and I had together during our years together. Yes, that last week, the last long hug, the last time we spoke to each other, the last time we smiled broadly at each other - it all still haunts me. Mostly because all those "lasts" took place late Sunday afternoon and he was dead by Thursday morning. It's just so surreal how fast it happened but even more surreal because it feels/felt like those were the longest 4 days of my life. It's like a bad dream really.
Then I think back to what I.'s teacher said about giving Mark the gift of being a friend that walks that painful road with him and that makes me feel warm inside; not quite happy, just warm. Because I know I did the right thing and that means a lot to me when it comes to Mark. It may have cost me alot personally, but the fact that he knew I was there before he slipped into unconsciousness and was responding to what I was whispering to him towards the end, makes the pain very worthwhile.
Grief is hard work! I have noticed that the nights I have dreams about Mark, I am more exhausted the next day even if I have gone to bed at a decent time and have gotten a little extra sleep. I'll just have to continue my journey and see where it leads me.
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