11 years later...

Wow, it's been a crazy ride!  This year feels like a really good time to share this crazy journey. 

Last month it's been 11 years.   How is that possible?  11 years living with/without our son. It's still such a crazy juggling act. I have so much i want to share about the journey.  How we ended up in Florida and the life we've recreated.  

But tonight I'll just tell you it's possible! Even when things seem like such a shit show, tackling it together can leave you in stitches.  

I'll explain the picture of tonight's shit show soon.  I hope I still have a few people that want to come along for the ride. I hope I can share a bit of hope. But here we go again,  while I try to #doitforcj.

Love,  jen

I'm back!!

Well,  hello stranger!

It's coming...

Mother's Day 2016.

It's coming.

And it will probably be my 3rd year of acting like a bit of a maniac.  Lost, mad, emotional, sad one moment... thankful and blessed the next.

I'm already having chest palpitations at the thought of it.  A stupid date on the calender.  Can you imagine a date causing physical pain? I'm counting down to a day full of counting.  A day full of answering how many children I have.  Or my favorite - "you have ALL girls??". A day of trying to decide if I tell the over questioning stranger at Starbucks that we just left the cemetery and I really just want my damn coffee.

I'll take a deep breath and call my own mom.  She'll be over cheerful knowing how desperately my heart is breaking and trying to bring me comfort.  Hopefully my heart will be empathetic to her loss, also.  CJ was loved beyond measure then and now by so many.

And in the end,  it's ok.  I get up and function every single day knowing my child is buried at our church cemetery.  It's a reality I still have not completely figured out.  If a date on the calender turns me into a maniac,  just love me through it.  And look around at the women in your life who seem off this week and show them some love.   You don't know what story their heart carries.  And Monday we will all get up and start all over again. 

I'll forever #doitforcj.

Selfish times....

Well,  hello!   I received a message today asking me where the hell I've been.   The answer is fairly simple.

We are in a blissfully selfish period of this crazy, never ending cycle of grief.   After 2 years of crying,  desperately fighting for change, and screaming our story to secure CJ's legacy, we have run out of steam.  So we paused.

What came out of a few weeks of breathing was unexpected.   As a family, we desperately needed time away from hospital drama,  self centered individuals attempting to use our son's name for personal gain, and even complete stranger representing themselves as having an emotionally intimate relationship with our family.  We walked away from the politics and red tape standing in the way of truly making a difference.  January-February is OUR time to do whatever makes us happy.

So what have we done with this new found freedom?  First i cut off my hair drastically.   Making a big physical changed seemed to open me up for bigger things.  I searched out an antique piano to adopt and talked my teens into helping me drag it home in the back of our conversion van.  I hand painted arrows and covered my living room wall as inspiration to just keep moving forward.  My family has followed my crazy path by stretching their wings into new ventures and bringing back old passions.   My sweet husband has a new turn table at up on a newly created table in the basement for his racks of records. The kids are preparing for track season,  applying to colleges,  applying for job promotions... Sunday night dinner was spent at a local hibachi place and I'm learning to stress less over producing the perception of a perfect home.

So for now,  my basement had the faint sound of bass and house music.  My living room has become a place where kids laugh and hysterically poorly plunk out melodies on a 60 year old upright,  there is laundry stacked in every room,  and a never ending revolving group of friends coming and going.

Tears still sneak up on me often.   I'm ok with that.  CJ is worth every single one.   And in the process we are reinventing our family dynamic.   In a few weeks,  with lent we will return to our projects and work to secure change and better education for the staff that works with bereaved families.  In a few weeks.   But for now,  we are enjoying being a bit mess of a family!   Just our way to #doitforcj!

Christmas fail....

Steps to being a heartbroken mom of an angel on Christmas...

Wake up crying in a confused state.  Is it all a bad dream?   Please tell me this is just a bad dream.

Wash face.  Cold washcloth over the eyes and pray you can still fake it through the day.

Go through the motions of starting the day.   Cry in your coffee.  Cry in the shower. Cry in the closet. In between, reapply mascara and keep checking the swelling around you eyes.   Convince yourself you can still fake it through a family dinner.

**speedbump.  Hubby in a miserable mood and leaves for work.  Flying solo with the kids driving themselves to a family gathering**

Tell yourself one last cry and you're done.  Stop at the cemetery.  Cry until you can't catch your breath while standing alone in a cemetery on Christmas day.   Cry until you wish your breath would simply stop.  Feel your cheeks burn in the wind and your nose drip down your face despite the wad of crumpled tissues constantly wiping your face.  Scream at God internally to either calm the pain or just take you to your son already.

Reapply mascara to face your children.  Begin the process of realizing there is no way to hide the pain today.

Cry in the car.

Reapply mascara and fan eyes for the 40 min ride out to a family Christmas dinner while tears slip through every few moments.

One more mascara application.

Face your family.  See the look of sympathy in their eyes as they cautiously say hello. Feel almost relieved when an aunt comments you look tired.  You know she's just being kind.  Escape to bathroom when more tears break through.

Reapply mascara.

Nibble through dinner.  Down 2 glasses of chardonnay in the hopes of numbing the pain.  Realize today is a bust.  Quietly day goodbye to a select few and slip away to your car.

Burst into tears while fumbling with keys in a slight panic of being caught.   Drive home crying.  And more crying.   Your face burns worse than sunburn.  Your nose is now also miserably red.  

Make it home exhausted and look at yourself in the mirror. OMG.  Your image horrifies you.   How is that possible from simply crying???

This is what grief does to you.   This is the face of a mom who attempted to be brave.   Who attempted to pull it together a dozen times.  It isn't pretty, or sweet, or even gentle.   It's harsh,  exhausted, and honest.

Christmas is far from over for a grieving heart. Please reach out to the hurting souls in your life.   Love them through the ugly.   Maybe the next day will be a bit easier...

Acting like a grown up and other nonsense!

"I assumed you moved on"

This was the second line in an email from a distant friend today.   I guess my response to her initial email and mentioning CJ was unsettling for her. 

When my girls were little and over reacting I remember thinking to myself "grow up!  Geez, little drama queen!".  Now I find myself closing in on 42 and often in drama queen status.   Nothing is fair,  just,  understandable,  or even predictable.   Little stumbling blocks in everyday life feel like enormous brick walls at times.   Some days I pout to my friends that being an adult is sooooo unfair!  (Imagine this said through smeared mascara, a runny nose, and gross sniffles). 

Then days like today happen.  I woke up with CJ screaming in my heart.  But my household was silly and happy as kids left for school. Little ones played quietly and my husband let me disappear for a long, hot, shower.  I cried a bit in my safe place and wondered how can anyone ever expect me to get over. Then I dropped the shampoo and smacked my head on the glass door when I went to pick it up.   For a brief moment,  my day teetered between tears and laughter. I chose laughter!

Then the road blocks started popping up.  Seemingly large,  until I realized my arsenal I had to deal with them.  My village is fierce!   And by allowing them in to help when I need it also leaves the door open for me to be of service when they need it.

*I took a 3 day break here.  Some days words get stuck...*

So as I reread those words,  I am taken back by what a whiner I sound like!   Seriously!

Ever met someone so stuck in a horrible moment in their life that they cease to live?  Well, we have a miserable human being like that in our life.  She's single handedly destroyed the ties to an entire family.   Her life is full of proving she mourns the hardest,  her life is the biggest struggle,  and everyone around her is upsetting.  She's a bully.   Full of cruel words but hides when confronted... only to spread more crap behind your back.  It's hard to be sympathetic with her loss when her actions are so hurtful.   She has funneled her pain into a really miserable existence for most people around her.  My moments of self pity remind me how easy it would be to slip into a similar nasty bitch mode.

And this is why I share my tears.   Holding them back would cause them to bubble over.  It's ok to be sad at times that I miss my son.  But life is so full of incredible people whom I love deeply and life yet to be lived. 

So the unfair crap may still bring some self pity, but with Thanksgiving around the corner I'm going to switch perspectives.  I'm going to try to reflect on my blessing more and allow the tears when I need them.   With so much love surrounding me,  I will not allow myself to became that bitter woman. Instead I will continue to fill my home and my life with joy.  

In CJ's beautiful memory,  I will strive to be joyful this season.   I will #doitforcj.

Changing seasons.

An odd memory keeps lingering in my mind today.

It was 2 years ago.  The trees were changing as was I.  Shock had worn off,  everyone had gone back to living, and I was lost.   Sobbing, praying,  arguing with God filled my days.   I felt alone and forgotten by most of the people in my life. The period of shock was much easier than this next stage in my journey.

I became explosive in every way. Some friends slipped away simply being unable to deal with watching me slip into my own hell, while others proved to be my angels.  They loved me through the smeared mascara, uncontrollable crying,  and anger fits. 

One weekend afternoon the normalcy of our household felt overly synthetic.  My life 2 months after losing my son had turned into a charade.  It was all too much and I crumbled.  My husband calmly walked to the backyard,  set up a chair, poured me a hot cup of coffee, and gently walked me outside.  He put a blanket over my legs and kissed my forehead before leaving me alone.   The tears burned and my soul screamed as I cried.  When I calmed down, he joined me. There was no need for words as he was living the same hell, just under different rules.  A grieving dad's emotions aren't cared for by others as a mom's are. After time we chatted.  I don't remember our conversation, but I remember the feeling.  He was the only one in the entire world who knew how it felt to lose OUR son.

I've met many moms who have lost babies these past 2 years, and over heard more heartbreaking stories than I can count.  And in the end,  I realize I am so abundantly blessed.   Even in my moments of deepest despair, my husband was there with me.  We wiped tears, took turns breaking down,  and used our last bit of strength to be kind to each other.  The loss of a child has statistically devastating effects on a marriage, yet somehow we pulled together even closer. 

This time of year is a reminder of change.  A time in my life I will never be able to restore in many ways.  But this year I'm trying to focus on the love and support we all shared over CJ.  My little boy brought us together in ways I never knew possible.  Hopefully he's watching me now proud of his mommy.  Hopefully the seasons continue to bring comfort and memories of love.   That's a legacy I'm proud to build for CJ....

Love.

Love and blessing to you all.  Happy belated All Souls Day 2015.

#doitforcj