Crying my way thru the day

No worries everyone! Dark, dismal, and crying had been replaced by a lovely fuzzy Xanax induced state of being.  After finding myself sobbing hysterically in a fast food parking lot, it was time to come home and surrender to pharmaceutical help.

These days happen.  Not often and usually not to the extent of today's melt down, but they happen.  The embarrassment of mascara streaks and puffy eyes is just normal for me now. 

I should make disclaimer cards for when a stanger stumbles upon me during these moments.  Something that says

Caution!  The woman who handed you this card is a heartbroken bereaved mom.  She doesn't have the words to explain her tears. Back away slowly without looking her in the eyes and everything will be ok.

I'm amazed at how many places I've burst into tears.  Most times I couldn't even tell you what triggers it. 

But tears are ok.  They mean I haven't closed down. Tears release some of the pain that stabs at me all day long.  I daydream about way to turn off the pain.  That would be a welcome change some days... to just drink myself into a stupor until I simply don't care.  But my reality is that I live my kids too much to make them witness me like that.

So after crying my way through most of Lockport, hopefully tomorrow will be gentler.  Or at the least, sunny so I can hide behind my sunglasses! 

Btw... Doesn't everyone ask for a stack of napkins with their iced tea in the drive thru?  Geez....  There's a very confused kid at DD that had to deal with a crazy lady crying in her car this afternoon.  I wonder if I made his newsfeed ;)

#doitforcj

Me and CJ...

Walking through Target today an interesting conversation occurred.  I allowed myself to wander through the baby boy clothes and picked up a darling denim jacket.  I caught myself saying outloud  "this would be too stinking cute on you" and looked towards my cart half expecting it to be topped with an infant seat. 

It's a tricky relationship being a mom to an angel.  For the sake of my sanity, I need to nurture my relationship with CJ.  My soul screams to mother him, my arms ache to hold him, and my mind is constantly trying to make sense of his absence.  I spend my days with a constant dialog churning in my heart.  I am an unbalanced mix of feeling comforted and haunted.

I tell him the simple things.  What I need to accomplish that particular day, how much I miss him, and with every breathe I take I wish I could skip the next to be with him.

There is a fine line between depression and sadness.  And yet another between suicidal and heartbroken.  My desire to live a nice long life has been diminished, but that does not mean I would take my own life. 

Standing in the cemetery yesterday I watched a funeral procession drive by.  You can always tell when it is an elderly person being buried.  While somber, the mourners are typically calm and at peace.  When it is a child, the pain is palpable. The parents cry with the same force needed to dig the small grave into the frozen ground.  I flashback to sitting in front of that small grave.  The feelings of complete disbelief.  Not knowing where my path was about to lead. 

I'm still stumbling.  The path is hard to see and confusing.  But today I'm still standing.  I may standing in the middle of Target talking to myself, but i'm still standing....

#doitforcj

Rainy nights ...

As the rain pours down tonight, I am haunted.  Haunted by the "should be" thoughts that meander through my mind on nights like these.

I should be pacing outside of the nursery room door hoping the thunder doesn't wake my sleeping son.  He should be here in footie pjs wrapped in a blanket well washed from swaddling his sisters.  His sisters should have shut their doors in the hopes of not hearing him crying from the thunder startling him.

How do we move on from those thoughts?  I collapsed in my husbands arms for a brief moment this evening praying outloud for just a few precious moments of amnesia.  Just long enough for me to exhale fully and regain enough strength to take the next breathe. I beg to God often for just a brief moment to forget.  This weight that pins me in place is exhausting. 

Tonight, CJ and I are listening to the storm together.  We are missing out on easy sleep and peaceful dreams.  His physical absence doesn't erase his footprint on my heart.  On several occasions, I have awaken in pure excitement after feeling "phantom kicks".  Then reality sets in that my sweet boy is gone and I crumble.  I feel him with me so strongly some nights.  Lying awake the weight of his body lying on my chest comforts me.  My arms ache.  They physically ache to hold my sweet little bundle just one more time.  I have contemplated ordering a teddybear made to his birth weight, but I fear I'll never put it down. 

When you hear the rain against the windows, remember those mommies who have buried their babies.  Pray for us as we desperately try not to think about our child in their grave.  But most of all, be patient with me.  My heart has yet to come to terms with my reality.   Nights like tonight bring it all flooding back. Hopefully tomorrow through the predicted storms I can find a few moments of calm to let hope seep back up through the cracks.  Heaven knows those cracks are big enough...

#doitforcj

Dear mommies, (and anyone who loves a mommy

Oh, mommies.  I am so disappointed in us.  A trend keeps popping up before my eyes that I can't bite my tongue on another moment longer.

"we will be better moms and love our kids more".  Aggghhhhhhhh!  I have seen this sentiment on grieving parent pages referring to other living children, on trying to conceive pages referring to babies so desperately prayed for, and even a conversation between stay at home moms gently tippy toeing around saying vs their working mom counterparts.

Seriously ladies, WTF??

So I will be the outspoken pain in the ass who tells you all to knock it off.

First off, how a baby is conceived does not guarantee your parenting skills.  No matter if a life is conceived in the back seat of a car or a test tube, there is no difference in the stresses of raising a child. 

The ignorance just hurts my soul.  Does this mean that my 4 children are not as loved as much as others conceived through fertility treatments? Or adoption? Or subsequent to the loss of a child? Do I love my daughters less than my son?  The sentiment is preposterous.

As women, why do we allow ourselves such selfish stereotypes? I have been very grateful for all of the incredible women who have come out of the woodwork to nurse my soul back to a state of living.  I can't begin to process how many have buried children, sat bedside as a child fights death sentence diagnosis, and had their baby killed at the hands of someone they love.  They are just a handful of the stories of women walking among us every day.  They have quietly shared their stories with me to keep me breathing.  They are absolute heros among us.

Love my children more? Absolutely not possible.  I do not love my children more today than I did a year ago.  I worry about them more.  I fear for their safety more.  I even pray for them more.  But I love, adore, appreciate, and give thanks to God for their very existence as I did before we lost our son. 

Sorry to break the news to anyone who still believes they have it all figured out before that baby even crowns- you don't have a clue! Every child is a mystery that evolves and unfolds every day.  Daydream, but don't plan.  God laughs while we plan... I planned on enrolling my son into little league and Sunday school.  Instead I buried my beautiful little boy with Down Syndrome.  My entire perception of what our life would be like with him is a reality I will never fully understand.  Would I have been a wonderful mom to a special needs kiddo? I think so.  I hope so. I pray so.  Did the surprise of his diagnosis make me love him less? Absolutely not.

Be kind to eachother.  Build up EVERY mom to be a good mom. Take the time to learn from eachother, admit our faults, and curb the plans.  Unrealistic expectations on ourselves are our own demise.

Love to all of you kick ass mommy warriors. 
I don't care if your babies are here on earth, waiting for you in heaven, or yet to be born-

A mother's heart loves. 

Love,
Jen
#doitforcj

He has risen, indeed!!

"He has risen indeed! hallelujah! hallelujah!" 

 

 

I look forward to participating in this exuberant response at Easter Sunday mass.  The holiest day of the year always lifts my soul to new levels.  This year as you can imagine, I was hesitant. God knew it because holy cow did he ever derail my plans!

 

Like so many other parishes, on holidays our masses are busting at the seams.  We left early, but not nearly early enough to get a seat in our church without searching.  So we decided to go to our church hall where an overflow mass was to be said.  I was a bit bummed.  Our pastor (Fr David who said CJ's mass) always says mass in the church.  But as we walked to the other side of the building, a feeling of relief washed over me thinking maybe I could just be another member of the congregation today- not a grieving mother.  Who on earth would recognize us in the over flow mass?

 

When we entered the hall, song sheets were being passed out by an adorable young boy with Down Syndrome.  My heart raced a bit.  We entered the space to find it nearly empty.  Seats in the 3rd row were easily grabbed and we casually watched the congregation gathering.  The overflow mass is usually a quicker mass (small musical groups, less formal) but what was unfolding before us was very unexpected.  A few families with special needs children began filing into the front seats.  One little girl in a beautiful white dress with Down Syndrome particularly caught my eye.  After several minutes of locking my glance to her, I finally started to listen to what was happening.  The overflow mass was being said in honor of the special needs families of our parish, AND 3 children were going to receive their 1st Holy Communion during the mass.  Families with children were funneling in at the last moments, teens were the musicians, and our Pastor had appeared to say mass.

 

I won't deny the tears.  During several moments, I simply couldn't help it.  During his homily, Father invited all of the children to come sit up front with him.  His patience with all of the beautiful children- some special needs, others not- was such a gift to witness.  He told them about our Pope and the beautiful acts of love that follow him wherever he goes.  Then he went on to explain to them in terms they could understand how last year, a parent passed his young boy with CP through the crowd into the Pope's loving arms.  The picture of them embracing was initially iconic, but now a common occurrence with Pope Francis. His message of love permeates all he does.  The kids eyes were glued as Father handed out a prayer card to each child with the picture.  I was a snotty, crying mess in the 3rd row by this time.  Luckily the moans, laughter, demands, and rejoicing of so many special children was my camouflage.  But Father knew and made eye contact with me several times as he spoke.  After mass, we wished Father a Happy Easter.  He leaned over to kiss my cheek and whispered "welcome home".  He was right- I have been coming to mass, but this was the first time I let my heart be at home.

 

And in that moment of what seemed like such pain,  so much weight was lifted,  My son was in God's glory and today was the day to embrace it.  Not a time of deep sorrow as I had feared.  My tears were healing.  They were the gift of a release in my Savior's house.  My church began to feel like the home it had for so many years.  CJ was sitting in that mob of cute kids listening to the words with me.  He will always be with me in spirit until I get to join him in salvation.

 

After mass we made a quick stop at the cemetery.  We took turns taking pictures with CJ, wiped a few tears, but left with happy hearts.

 

Then typical chaos broke out when we got home.  Nate ran to the store for a few things I had forgotten with 1 kid, the other took a foster pup hanging out with us for a quick walk while our own 2 were pushed out the back door so not to be underfoot while I scurried to get a nice lunch on before Nate left for work.   My mind was swirling with the extra money I had spent on simple Easter baskets and groceries.  The stress of money always swirls with me STILL unemployed.  Then I noticed my phone flashing.

 

I poured a glass of wine and went to quickly respond to Easter text messages,  What I found was a note from a very generous friend taking a very large weight off of our shoulders.  A gift so generous and kind I am still without the proper words to properly thank her.  I looked up at my blessings swirling around in preparation for our small celebration, and my heart was instantly lighter.

 

We sat down to a traditional Polish lunch of barszcz, sausage, potatoes with bacon and onions, and rye bread.  Wine and beer, and a beautiful array of desserts rounded it out.  2 kiddos home plus Kate's bf joined us.  It was a delicious meal and I delighted in watched them dive in for multiple helpings.  We laughed, told stories of past Easters, and enjoyed making our own traditions and memories.  

 

So today, a day that I was completely convinced would be one of pain and grief, was a day filled with love, healing, and most of all HOPE.  Some days when your wallet is empty,  your children aren't under the same roof, and tomorrow is full of lingering obstacles, hope is a difficult thing to hold on to. I was reminded of the incredible love and hope that is wished upon us every single day.  I promise every one of you, I will try harder to stay open to it.

 

Happy Easter!!  My son is with our Savior!  There is no other place besides my own arms I would ever want for him.

 

He HAS risen, indeed!  hallelujah! hallelujah!

 

#doitforcj

 

 

 

 

 



Easter Blessings

Some days I realize how raw and maybe even angry my posts must seem. Oh, anger... Why are you always my fall back emotion when life gets to be too much?

Good Friday is here.  No matter how desperately I try not to place importance or merit on any day involving a section at Hallmark, some are just unavoidable.   Easter.  From the time we were married, it hold such a special place in my heart.  I'm going to give in to my stubborn streak and share the story of where our faith journey began many years ago.

I love to tease, but the history behind Nate and I is one of those crazy love stories that statistically never should have happened.  From the first night we met, to a few months later when he proposed over a brownie sundae at Chili's (yep- seriously lol).  There is a mile long list of differences between my city boy from a single mom vs my suburban 2 parents/sister/dog upbringing.  Faith was our common link.  While  I have shared my Catholic roots, his spiritual upbringing was a bit more complex.  Baptized Catholic as a baby, rebaptized Mormon as a child (Catholics just consider that one a splash in a pool), and really not brought up in any church.  He was longing for it, and I was in need of a good reminder of how rich and beautiful my church and faith really are. 

To my complete amazement, he initiated attending RCIA (Right of Christian Initiation) just a few months after we were married.  I was pregnant the second after we said "I do", but very excited to sponsor him through the process of receiving the Catholic sacraments.  After a few months of classes, we spoke with our pastor and decided to baptize our newborn daughter at Easter Vigil.  The same mass Nate (along with about 20 others) would receive any sacraments they were missing including baptism, 1st communion,  and confirmation.  It's a night I will never forget.  As the sun set, Father began mass and we all processed into the church.  About 30 family members joined us in celebration (some in more support than celebration...).  We decided the symbolism of having our daughter submerged was too beautiful to pass up.  So I handed my sweet baby girl over to our priest standing in the baptismal font naked as the day she was born.  He held her high in the air with her huge almond eyes examining the crowd and oblivious of what was about to happen. Then with the words given to us by Christ, our sweet girl took a quick half dunk and came out screaming!  Comically, someone had forgot to turn the heater on the font that morning so the water was as cold as can be!  Father carefully managed to dunk just enough.  Her screams brought smiles and laughter throughout the congregation.  It was the smile of a new life being born.  She was saved.  To witness something so beautiful was breathtaking.  She was quickly swept away into a back room, warm towels and snuggles, and finally dressed in the same gown as her mommy, godmother, and older sister were baptized in before rejoining the mass. Then moments later to stand with my hand on my husband's shoulder as his sponsor as he proclaimed his belief in the Catholic Church, and side by side receive communion for the first time was humbling.  A path was set.  We were burning with God's fire for life!

Through the years, I can't even begin to account for all of the ministries we have been involved within the church.  Each brought new friends, learning experiences, and an example I am proud to have set for our daughters.  Standing shoulder to shoulder at mass on Sunday is an easy decision.  Even when it hurts more than life itself, but that's a topic for another day.

Today I was feeling very lost.  Some days seeing everyone's professional pictures and momentos in a few baby loss support groups I have joined are so hard for me.  The hat and blankets CJ was wearing never made it back to us.  We sent other clothes over to the funeral home for him to be buried in. I've never questioned when/where that blanket and hat went.  I try not to think about it, but not having those items hurt.  And professional photos did not happen for a laundry list of excuses. (THAT I am rectifying so no other mommy will ever go without a free professional sitting).  But not having anything that he touched was really painful today.  Then it hit me and I ran to our closet- it was there!  The gown!  With everything going on the day we were told we lost CJ, I managed to grab the shoebox containing the gown and took it with us to the hospital.  Our priest baptized CJ just moments after I delivered him and we were able to drape the gown over him.  I immediately held it to my nose and closed me eyes.  Unfortunately, nothing.  But sitting there with the 40 year old lace in my hands, I was holding something my son was wrapped in!  It was magic for just a moment.  I was reminded he was saved just like his sisters.  Just like his parents.  We are promised an eternity forever together.  That gown reminded me in that quick instant that our path was still on fire.  We will be ok.

Bless you all this Easter weekend.  May your soul be set ablaze with the divine gift of forever!!!

love to you all! and don't forget to #doitforcj!

Jen

Holidays....

I had one of my favorite visitor's yesterday.  Kate's bf came by for a home cooked meal and great conversation (and an impromptu Nerf gun fight with our other daughters). An innocent question has prompted me into thought. He asked me "what are you doing this weekend?".  I was stumped.  What was I forgetting? Ummmm, Easter!

Family gatherings are scarce.  Chunks of several parts of our families regularly gather together, but invites are rare.  There were no fall outs to cause this.  Simply with our grandparents passing left us holiday orphans.  Maybe my large pack of 5 dinner place settings lends to hesitation to invite us? Or the awkwardness of hosting a family in grief? 

So this Easter my husband is working and our oldest is still in Florida.  Parents are out of state.  I guess a quiet , ordinary day is in our future. I miss those years of family gatherings.  Of my buszia filling baskets with Brachs candy and endless polish feasts.  And of my grandmother's lamb cakes hand decorated for each grandchild.  But most of all, a sense of belonging.

I was thinking about all of this today, full of sadness for years past. Then it occurred to me.  Our children were not there.  They do not have MY childhood memories- they have their own,  And the memories we have created have been pretty fantastic!  From watching their mom fall in a church parking lot excited to see snow after Christmas Eve mass many years ago, to having our baskets blessed on Holy Saturday.  Christmas morning cinnamon rolls, 4th of July spent with a bottomless cooler of snacks and drinks for fireworks,  Mothers Day Portillos and petunia planting...  Our own oddly joyful ways of celebrating those special days.  They don't yearn to be invited by distant relatives that they are forced to kiss twice a year.   They come alive in those silly moments when we are all together creating memories.

This Easter is already very, very different.  We are not together.  CJ is spending the holiday in God's hands, Kate with The Mouse, and Nate is working.  So by 2pm,  there will just be 3 of us left at home.   Memories of years past dressing up my munchkins is coordinating Easter dresses and patent leather shoes with big ruffled socks makes me smile and cry.  It all went by too fast.  But in our own corky way, hopefully I can pull a rabbit out of my hat and still make the day special. 

Thinking we will be focusing on the bunnies and eggs part of the holiday this year. In other words kids- everything I have instilled in you for your entire lives about Easter being the holiest day of the year?  Hold that in your hearts because we are going to tread lightly.  My heart is screaming for God's grace to remind me that CJ is in HIS presence because HE rose for us.  But the reality is that my broken soul needs to step gently into such an emotionally charged topic.

Wish me luck... Friday I have big plans to pull our Grandma's bunny cake and cross forms with the girls.  Maybe a few old traditions can still sneak into the week!  We will just put our own crazy spin on Grandma's perfectly decorated cakes.

Wishing you all an Easter full of peace- in whatever form you need.  Please walk gently into the lives of those around you.  Reach out and make sure nobody is alone.  Sharing your pizza dinner may be the fellowship that a lonely soul is screaming for. 

#doitforcj

Privacy? Hahahaha!

We used to be quite private people.  While I may be vocal on social media, true details of our home life were never as clear as some assumed.  I was really good at walking the line of allowing many things to stay behind closed doors.

I have tried here.  Skirting giving full names or school info on our children, cautiously watching what info could be gathered from any picture I add, and often changing info just enough to not be easily pinpointed.

The comical part is when on vacation recently, it was family that used social media to track our every move! Lol  Not maliciously by any means, but one picture posted by one of our girls with a location tag has seemed to cause more drama than social media is worth! 

If you have been following along, you know I'm unemployed and this trip was done on a shoestring budget with the help of gifts/free park passes/living off of pasta and pbj for 2 months!  Many knew it was beyond a treat for us and excitedly waited updates which was fun until weather changed up our plans.  We were able to have our oldest with us for an extra 2 days so our focus was on being together and time was precious.  We just didn't make as many stops or spend as much time with some people that we planned to.

So I returned home to be not only unfriended but blocked by family on fb (let's all say it together-oooooOOOOOoooo!)  For a few days in embarrassed disbelief I contemplated how to dig myself out of a hole.  But now it occurs to me....

Who seriously gives a shit???

Nate, Kate, Tori, Skye, CJ.  That's who matters most.  While I love so many, my focus had to be on us for awhile.

So expect us to occasionally bail on plans.  Rely on inconsistency from my clan.  Bet on our appearances. But most importantly, respect the fact that while I share my crazy journey of hope, I am allowed my privacy.

If you follow any of us through here, fb, twitter, instagram... Thank you!!  We enjoy sharing our lives with you!  We will continue to #doitforcj so other families know they are not alone.  We will talk about the laughter and tears,  hopes and dreams, faith and doubts. 

Family, friends, and everyone who fails in between- If you feel the need to leave this social media party, or like posting snarky quips targeting at me, adios!  Don't let the social media door smack you on the way out!

For the rest of us, tomorrow is a new day. 8 months and 1 day since we said goodbye to CJ.  Thank you for being along for the wild ride!

The picture is one I finally enlarged and framed.  The first since we lost CJ.  pictures without him just hurt my heart. BABY STEPS...

Jen

#doitforcj

On a technical note, I have been made aware that many are unable to post comments. I'm working on it!  And I thought nobody had anything to say...lol

8 months

To my son,

There was a time when I thought with complete certainty that ONE day I would hold you on this earth.

I would gaze into your TWO beautiful eyes and marvel at the beauty of life.

Your THREE sisters would be fighting for their chance to also cuddle you and be a part of your earthly life.

FOUR bedrooms didn't seem like enough to hold all of our blessings under one roof. We didn't understand how quickly our busting at the seams home would echo with your absence.

Then our hearts stopped with yours All FIVE of us. None of us could comprehend that we would never be together on earth as SIX.

SEVEN months later we took you in our hearts on vacation. We finally took time to breathe, laugh, cry, and heal.  Our path is far from over, but in your honor we are working on a way to live. To #doitforcj !!

It's hard to comprehend EIGHT months you have lived in God's kingdom without me.  EIGHT months since I touched your sweet little face and kissed you so gently.  Eight months...

Soar with the angels my sweet Christian.  I miss you with every breathe I struggle to take.

Sweet baby boy...

Sweet baby boy
My heart's pure desire
How your short time here
Has set me on fire

I burn with emotions
That I can't understand
My life is on hold
Since I touched your sweet hand

Walk with me, sweet boy
And guide me to see
What on this earth
I was really meant to be

Yesterday, today, and always
My heart will miss a beat
For life on earth without you
Will never be complete...

the things that seem to shock/offend about this seemingly suburbanite mom...

I openly and honestly share my journey on this page.  If you are trying to read between the lines, I'm sure you will find a place to slip yourself into my story.  Slip in somewhere positive, and leave your ego at the door with me.  Let's lift each other up in understanding acceptance. I appreciate the shares in the hopes of reaching other moms who think they are alone in this BULLSHIT journey. #doitforcj


It always cracks me up when my kids find the humor in my insanity.  Let's face it, when you have gone through the ultimate emotional experience as a family, boundaries are loosened.  Language changed within our family unit.  While I wish I could say the sole product of this journey is that we are closer to our Christian roots and discussion revolve around spiritually enlightened topics, the raw reality is we have become a bunch of potty mouthed teenagers.  Considering the 2 kids living at home are 15 and 13, nobody needs to be dialing any 800 number!

Bullshit.  The first word that has become common in our vocabulary.  Let's face it- carrying a baby almost to term and then having to bury him is complete  BULLSHIT.  There are very few other words that could convey the obscene nature of such an event.  Hence, bullshit when being used to describe our situation is allowed.  bullshit bullshit bullshit.  (if you are offended, time to click to another mommy loss blog full of rainbows and butterflies...)

Next topic that is darkly funny to us is medication.  "mom, did you take your pills?"  or "someone needs a Xanax" are often casually flung around playfully.  My kids rattle off the names of antidepressants and anxiety meds like they are naming candybars.  They understand they were my lifeline.  They kept mom from leaving this earth during the hardest time of my life.  And eventually I needed them less and less.  I attribute this greatly to this crazy support system I have at home pushing me forward.  Never discount the power of teenage love.  The purity and sincerity of my daughters has saved OUR lives.  Let's not forget my husband lost a son, too. 

Being very outspoken about our feeling and how we are treated by others has also become common.  Growing up in a typical Polish Catholic middle class family, you kept the peace.  I am completely over it.  If someone is going to obnoxiously rsvp for my son's funeral like it was a dinner party, or make announcements that felt cruel and ill timed, I now speak up.  I spent the first several years of my marriage being an absolute doormat to a few new people in our life. I spent my twenties a young mom/wife dealing with crap like a child calling me "1-800 Jenny Craig" to her mother's amusement while she also showed her objection to my very presence.  Come charging at me now, and I promise you I will defend what is MINE with every inch of my being.

Last but not least, pass the wine!  I have no problem admitting, discussing, or sharing the fact that I enjoy a glass of wine a few evenings a week.  The first few weeks after our sweet CJ was gone, I wouldn't touch it.  In my mind, I was still taking care of my body as if I were carrying him.  Even coffee was taboo.  We all know how quickly that changed considering I'm sitting in a Starbucks connected to their wifi typing this!  Despite past comments of a few inlaws, my only problem is that I have champagne taste and a beer budget!  Yesterday my husband casually asked me with a giggle in his tone why there was half a bottle of wine in our bedroom. Without missing a beat I JOKINGLY replied because my mother in law was on the couch the past few nights. I fell into his arms and we shared a great laugh.  It had actually been brought up there over a week ago when we had teenagers watching a movie I had no interest in and vacation packing to tackle. Anyway, his reminding me of the bottle prompted me to finally bring it down to the kitchen.  In route, our youngest daughter stopped me, looked at the bottle, and asked "did you atleast use a glass?" <insert  hysterical laughter>.  

You see, what we have been through is complete crap.  Correction- complete BULLSHIT!  But as we figure out how to take each and every subsequent breathe, life is coming into such clearer focus.  Mild profanity, dark humor regarding prescription meds or alcohol, or even a snarky attitude are just ways we cope.  The tears flow often, silence behind our eyes tells more than we care to share.  Our journey as followers of Christ continues, just off the paved path. 

Tonight after I kill some time being cool in a coffee shop, I will pick up a gaggle of teens currently watching friends in a school musical, return home to finish that bottle of wine and wait for my absolute best friend to come home from work and snuggle with me in front of the tv.  Who knows if we will exchange snarky comments or quiet looks, but our hearts know what we are both carrying.  Hopefully we can put that load down for a few moments together.

Tomorrow, we will do it all over again.  we WILL #doitforcj

chasing sticks

Years ago when the girls were all small we packed up the minivan (including a hyperactive young chocolate lab) and headed out to a family vacation cottage for an afternoon of fun.  Our girls enjoyed a fun day of digging in the sand and floating in the river in tubes. 

My grandfather was there sitting in the backyard with my dad and a few others manning the bbq and enjoying a few cold beers.  He took to our crazy lab immediately and amused himself by launching a large stick in the river over and over again to her extreme delight.  That dog ran and belly flopped into that river over and over amusing everyone watching.

That evening when it was time to pack up, everyone was snuggled into their car seats with beach towels as blankets.   That swamp monster dog insisted on lying on the middle seat with a kid.  Not 10 minutes into our trip home, we heard the loudest snored coming from the back of a very quiet van.  When we realized it was the dog,  our own exhaustion gave way to giggles as we watched her passed out cold snoring away. To our amazement that dog was back to her crazy antics the very next day.

We were the reincarnation of that crazy dog last week.  We tackled Disney World like pent up pups that needed to run to the point of exhaustion.  Every day we left early for the parks still trying to wake up, and returned so tired we would crash into bed with the same weight as that snoring dog.  Complete and utter snoring exhaustion.

It was an attempt to forget.

We all needed to forget the pain we have been living with since we lost CJ.  He will never be forgotten, but some days my heart screams for a break.  So we ran.  And a few days into this week of insanity, when exhaustion was starting to set in, we began to mention him and laugh again.   He was with us as we ran ourselves into the ground.  He was with us as we screamed on rollercoasters, laughed in shows, wiped tears at new babies, and sat in awe under the fireworks.  We said is name out loud and it was in each others' eyes. 

I've been thinking quite a bit about that sweet old dog today.  She passed away at 15 yrs old just a few days after CJ.  Every little boy needs a dog, so we sent CJ the best.   She found such crazy joy in life.  She was there to snuggle me when I came home from the hospital.  Even in her last days, she was there. 

I'm struggling with the transition back into home life.  What should be a place of comfort hold so many memories of CJ.   The dreary rainy weather is weighing heavily on my heart.  I miss the nights of falling asleep exhausted after a day of complete craziness. I miss having our girls with us all day.  I now understand our old dog's joy in chasing that stick all day.

#doitforcj