The Tale that Time Tells

So Saturday night I'm cleaning my self up and going out with my girlfriends. Yes it is your typical Girls Night Out or GNO as we like to call it. So what makes this night different that it gets blog post you might ask? Well we are going out to celebrate as one of my friends puts it "celebrating d's awesomeness at surviving her first year". I have to say this makes me giggle, sigh, smile and tear up all at the same time.

I look back to a year ago; I had started working again, I was stressing over how to pull off the five-course Thanksgiving meal I had planned, I started grief sessions with my therapist, the world was on tilt and I wasn't sure if it was going to spin out of control or eventually slow down so I could at least feel my feet under me. Looking back to a year ago and my thought process to the whole situation; thinking that a year from that point seemed so far away and what if this feeling, this physical pain in my heart, didn't go away. What if it was there for the rest of my days and time didn't heal it? One morning during the holidays I got out of the shower and while brushing my hair I saw my one little silver hair that I had always been very proud of. It made it's appearance one week after Christopher went into the hospital; it was physical evidence that I was worried about my love. Then I saw another one, and another one and there was one more. Six in total, all in the same area, all silver in color. I sighed at the sight of my self in the mirror, towel wrapped around me and leaning over the sink to catch a better look at these little silver hairs that I nicknamed my "battle scars".

The funny part is while most women out there would run out and buy a bottle of hair color to cover them up - I loved them. My little proof that what I had been through was enough to turn some of my hair gray - and well not just gray, but silver. A symbolic color in my book that my great sadness had a silver lining if you will. Yeah it's a stretch and really all in the genetic make up your parents I'll give you - but I'm taking it as mine and nothing less than my silver lining. Several month later when I did color my hair I asked my hair dresser if he could color around them and leave them - I got a resounding "NO" - but that's how much it meant to me.

A year ago if I asked my self, "Hey you think you might be up for some girl time with your friends a year from now?" I would have said no, raised an eyebrow, huffed and maybe even thought of a mean, dirty little hand gesture to go with it. But as I recently told a friend... time tells all tales in the light we wish to see them in. Time has afforded me to look back on where I was in life and where I am now. There have been some rather large bumps, hills and valleys along this path, but I made it - still standing with both my feet firmly planted. So my tale of "awesomeness" as my friend puts it is over a year's worth of work. My six little silver hairs remind me that I discovered that I am stronger than I gave myself credit. Understanding that life isn't always fair, but it's all in the peace that you get from knowing that. Acknowledging that the silence we hear that makes us feel alone is only in our head. And finally being conscious of our own needs and not our desires.

So let the celebrating begin! Oh yeah... I have to wait till Saturday. :)

The Games People Play

So please bare with me while I trip, stumble and try to gracefully recover while keeping my cool exterior through this post. There have been some things on my mind recently and as a "single" woman. mom, friend, person (whatever you call it) and I feel like I need to put this out there and just get it off my chest. And I know that I might get kick backs, hands raised up in the air, a "Whoa, woman back it up there are two sides to every story", from those in the blog world, but again - that's why I asked you to bare with me - so in good ole "d" fashion... get over it.

Recently my parents came in for a visit and my dad and I had one of his famous "fireside chats". Now let me briefly explain these "fireside" yammers. I coined the term years ago when it dawned on me that when my dad offers you a drink and to sit outside - it's code for "we have to talk". And just as Roosevelt had everyone sitting around their radios waiting on his every last word, you have to sit on the edge of your seat because you never know what my dad is going to want to talk to you about. Did he learn this little tactic from the Army, his job or maybe it's just an Italian thing - who knows, but everyone in the family knows: drink + outside + dad = oy vay). What did we talk about? Well lets just say we had a very real conversation about dating, finances, Ethan and everything falls in between those lines that I'm not comfortable discussing here. It was a dad wanting and trying to look out for his daughter. To prove a point that not everyone in this world is nice and I just need to look out for myself first and foremost.

The conversation raised an eyebrow for me. I knew that the idea of having a relationship would be a difficult concept to navigate. How do you have one with a child. You don't want the child to become attached to the person your just "dating". The idea of Ethan becoming attached and then having that person ripped from him just when he becomes more attached than I; it would be like swallowing bits of broken glass. That's when the idea of living alone till Ethan turned 18 came to mind. Just a thought....

Then I heard from a friend a weekend or two back that her good friend's boyfriend broke up with her over a social networking site (did you follow that one?) This couple had been together for several months, talked of spending their lives together, even having children together, then BAM. The guy just ends it. And the way he ended it - strange for someone in their late 30's. When heard the tail of whoa all I could think about was, "Who does that? What person breaks up with their possible love over a social networking site? Are we in the sixth grade here? Seriously people!!" That's when the idea of living alone for the rest of my life with one or two cats came to mind. I'm just saying...

A few days later I found out that another friend of mind broke it off with his girlfriend of several months because he caught her in some lies and had a feeling that she wanted back with her ex-hubby. He said it had been coming and all the little lies he caught her in over a weekend was enough for him to say "enough is enough". And while he seemed upset, I think he's trying to see the positive in all of it and trying to remain strong. Me on the other hand. My jaw was on the floor and taking a gander at all the dust bunnies. Why do people lie in their relationships? If you don't want to be with someone then why waste their time or yours? That's when the thought of living alone for the rest of my life with 90 cats popped into my head. Hey, I did see a rather moving documentary on "Cat Ladies" on the Lifetime channel - it made a pretty good case for having cats....

In both these relationships my friends "significant others" played them on way or another and in all my dealings with friends/family that have had relationships that end badly; there is somewhere an underling plot of some game played by someone. Does this scare me? Umm yeah, whole new level of vulnerability here. Now here my out. I'm not saying I'm not strong enough to be in a relationship - it just make my beliefs in what I will put up with from someone a little stronger. I am a very giving, loving and caring person and in return I need someone like that back. Someone who accepts not only me, but everything that stands behind me. The pieces of my life where not chosen, nor will they be used as tokens for the playing.

I am very grateful for the relationship that I had with Christopher. He loved me in all the ways a woman (or man) should be loved. He showed me what a great love was - not could, would, but what was. And while I will never compare anyone to him; everyone is different. I know in my heart the way I should and want to be treated and well; games will not be played or put up with.

So you might be asking why did I write this. Well to be honest. After everything that has transpired this past few weeks it made me even more (insert eyebrow raise) hesitant about what the future holds. I know what I want in my "new normal" of this life that God gave to me, but is the pain and heartache worth it? People can be mean and cruel - and I have to worry about more than just my self now. So; do I or will I be that woman with 90 cats? No. I'm allergic to the little dander balls of fur. I'm just saying....

Living Strong for Those Around You

So this post was suppose to be about me going through my first milestone twice, how I did it, what I learned from it, etc. But as you all know from my last post, my friend Deanna (the woman who takes the awesome photos of Ethan that I rave about) is going through something that I don't wish on anyone.

Back in Feb of this year her dad went in to have a tumor removed from his brain. While the tumor wasn't cancerous, there was still a growth on his brain and near (or on - I can't remember it's been so long ago) the brain stem. Her family found a doctor who was willing to remove the tumor, surgery was set and everyone involved went in with hope and faith that the tumor would be removed, her dad would get moved into rehab and all would be right with the world.

That's where hope started and possibly ended. After the surgery there was news of strokes, fluid not draining, more surgeries, more waiting, more MRI's, more more more of everything they never dreamed of. And now they are in a catch 22. He has to get better so he can go to rehab so he can learn to swallow, if he can't learn to swallow, he will always get pneumonia and well possibly..... you know....

This news saddens me deeply and moves me on a whole other level. Sometimes in life we are faced with a choice; to do what is right and what is easy.... It would be so easy for me to say I can't deal with this situation and walk away from my friend. That the subject matter is too close to my own. But I can't. She is my friend. And I feel helpless for her. I have prayed that God give me the wisdom to do what is right for her and her family and that I am given the knowledge to know what to say and when. I wish there was a magic wand I could wave and have all the answers, but my answers flow easier down my face than they do in my mind sometimes.

I know that to be a good friend means being there for her when ever she needs anything and I will always be there for her. For whatever she needs, help with her kids, her house, meals, I'm there for her. I have prayed that her dad have the strength to fight this and move past all this; for this to be nothing more than a fleeting memory. And I pray for my friend, the she find that strength and peace that got her through these last few months and channel it to help her through this; and that she will be able to withstand the negative destructiveness of outsiders and deal with her dad's situation with minimal interference from those that would harm her.

I would just like everyone who reads this to stop and take a moment and please send good thoughts to my friend and her family.

Prayers for Deanna and her family

Everyone out there who reads this blog, please take a moment and pray for my friend Deanna and her dad. Back in Feb of this year her dad went in to have a tumor on his brain removed and has been in the hospital ever since. There have been complications left and right and now things are not looking so good.

Please pray that her Dad be given the strength needed to get well. Please pray for Deanna to have the wisdom to tackle anything that is thrown her way. And also please pray for Deanna's Dad's wife - that she find peace with whatever might happen.

This is such a good loving family, they need our support, love, prayers and good thoughts right now. Please take a moment.....

The Road Less Traveled

It's funny the people that God brings into your life right when you need them or their wisdom to help you through something that you thought you might never have been able to over come. There are several people like that in my life, but two come to mind frequently. Maybe because their stories are very similar considering that they both live in two different states and only know each other through me and what I share with them. They both taught me something about who I am and they both did it in two completely different ways.

My friend Dee wasn't my friend at first; we had what most would call a business partnership. I only called her when I need her services and she only called on me when she had something I needed. Then one day we found our selves in a similar situation. We both were grieving over the loss of a relationship. While hers was a separation from her spouse and mine was the physical loss of mine - there was something that was similar and underlining. We both talked about the loss of the physical touch from our spouses and how something so small as holding someone hands meant to us. What it meant for someone to look at us as though we meant something and now not to have that - to miss it was down right heart breaking.

Her separation came around the time of Christopher's passing and her divorce became final around the time of Christopher's one year marker. So, we sorta journeyed together on this path of what is next in life and roughing it as you will through milestones we weren't sure if we could get through. We often sent texts to each other with words of encouragement and requests for vodka or gin. But the important part is we made it. :)

I'm very proud of my friend Dee. She is a strong woman with a great heart and is always there for her friends whenever you are in need. She has come leaps and bounds and has transformed herself from the person that she was before to who she is now - the Dee she always was and dreamed of being and even found someone that cares completely for her (which just warms my heart). She has shown me that even after a great loss - there can be another step in your life, another extraordinary love, another wonderful "something" as long as you leave your heart open to it. Words will never be able to express what it meant to travel this road with her by my side. She taught me allot about my own tenacity on this journey and what it means some times to grin and bare it. To do just what you have to do. She is just one of the people that has made me realize that what I write here needs to be shared with other people going through the same thing.

Then there is my friend Jay. We went to school together and recently reconnected only to find he too was going through something very similar that Dee was going through and almost on a similar timeline. Any while the both of them handled their situations differently (the difference between a guy and girl) he to taught me something about my self as well.

He taught me one of the most important lessons that I will carry around with my self - guys can be just as vulnerable as the girls. That no matter what my fears are in life; there is someone else out there with the same fears. We're all vulnerable. That not matter how hard you fight for something, sometimes it's just not in the cards. That life should be filled with light and love and anything that I would love for my self should also be good if not better for Ethan. He reaffirmed that while not many people understand what I do on a professional level, it doesn't mean it's any less harder.

He too has been through allot is going through his own self discovery and I know that one day he will find someone that cares for him and his son the way he dreams of. To have a relationship filled with radiance and devotion.

I guess you could say that while my journey is the road less traveled by those my age; I have had those in my life who traveled a road just as calloused. They are people in my life that I will always have a place in my heart. They helped me when I needed it the most. My appreciation for them runs deep - they were there when I felt the word spinning out from under my feet, but made me feel like I would never fall. Thank you guys.

Ethan's Turn

Muppet there is so much I wish I could say to you right now and have you understand completely what it means to me in my heart. I look at you and there are times when my heart breaks and I can't help but let me emotions run down and swallow me whole from the inside out, but then there are those other moments. The moments I shout to the heavens in splendor over the monumental strides you have made in your short little life.

I know I have and will tell you a thousand times over that you are named after your grandmother. Your middle name; her maiden name. And as they say in the movies - with a great name comes great responsibility. See a year ago today she left this mortal plane. Yes, just a few short days after your daddy's services, your grandmother passed away. She was 88 and a fighter. She was a woman I was close to and looked up to. Your name "Ethan" means strong leader and no other name would have the honor of standing next to your great grandmothers maiden name. She was a leader. She taught me so many things that I don't think I could pick just one to tell you - all of her life lessons are meaningful and beautiful to me and as you get older I will share them with you.

Ethan, my emotions over the course of this year have run the gambit and yet in the end there has always been one little person standing by my side. You. As your mum, my fears for you fall down like rain upon me and while I find my self from time to time hydroplaning across these thoughts - that look in your eye and twinkle in your smile keeps me grounded. No matter the drama that unfolds in my day, you are there my Muppet to run into my arms and tell the whole world (or at least those in your day care), "That my mommy. Love you Mommy." Those six little words make all the drama melt away and makes me remember all the beautiful things in life.

I wish I could see the world through your eyes, a world without prejudice, pain or evil. A world that is filled with excitement over learning a new letter, color or number. I know one day you will grow up, but I hope that when you do - you still remember what it was like to live life so vicariously. Ethan, I will always be proud of you no matter who you are or grow up to be. Yes, my dreams and hopes for you are great; just as any parents' dreams, wants and desires would be for their child. But I also know that life is what you make of it and my only want in your life is for you to be happy. You could be a starving artist or a multi-million-dollar CEO, at the end of the day I want for you to be able to go home and smile at what you have.

As you get older you will find that there is allot you can change about your life, where you live, your friends, your job. But the one thing you can't change is that I love you and I will never be able to stop loving you. You are a part of your daddy. My little reminder of the way he was. You are very much a little smarty parts and you so get that from your daddy. The way you laugh - just like your dad's. And if I may be so bold to say it - both your eyebrows operate in the exact same manor. I guess what I am trying to say Muppet is that there is a part of your dad inside you - it's a part that wasn't learned - it's just a part of him locked in your soul. So when ever you feel lonely or that you miss him; just look in the mirror. You and him - you all share the same reflection.

I love you Muppet.

Mum

This is Real. This is Me.

On Monday Ethan and I went out to visit Christopher and give him some flowers. While driving up to the cemetery I could see that there had been a funeral. I will admit that even looking at a funeral brings back allot of feelings that I have worked hard to work through, yet it is still agonizing to see one or the aftermath of one. Driving around to where Christopher was I saw the little tent they put over the new grave, the casket on it's mighty perch, the rose flowers that adorned the top of it and a single woman with her sunglass on just sitting there. My heart dropped, I knew her place, the amplified pain in her heart that she felt, and her frame of mind. I pushed on past her and around to Christopher's grave. I told my self over and over I couldn't deal with this today - not this day.

I put the car in park and looked in my rear view mirror. I saw Ethan - so much like Christopher. I saw the small figure of that woman sitting at that grave beyond him. Then there was me, tears quietly streaming. Out my right window was Christopher. I was there for him and yet all I could do was think of that woman. Alone. It ate at me. I didn't know her story, and hers is different than mine - yet we all share the same emotions - we both lost someone we cared for, loved and treasured. I composed my self, got out of the car, then Ethan and I went for a walk.

I knew Christopher wouldn't mind if the first stop we made wasn't for him. There was something else I needed to do first. Something was pushing me to do what I was about to do; what I don't know, but it felt natural. I walked down the path towards this woman. The scene was an all to au fait; dressed in black, using sunglasses to hide the sorrow, having everyone there and yet feeling completely alone - I knew the model. As I walked up to her she turned and surveyed Ethan and I, but I don't think she knew what to say or do.

"I know you don't know me," I replied.

"No. No I don't know you," she said as if I was going to give her some other news flash she didn't want to hear this day. I explained how Ethan and I were out visiting Christopher, how he had passed away a year ago this very day and I thought she needed a hug. I wanted her to know that there are people out there that care even though she might not know them.

She started to cry. She said she had been waiting for them to physically burry the casket. She needed to see it, she needed that part of her closure - she needed to see it done, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving him like that, up on his perch. She talked about how her family wanted her to leave and she was sure they were all talking about her at the church reception calling her nuts, crazy, and even overly emotional. I sat next to her, held her hand, took a breath and as if it just flowed from my lips without even thinking about it told her that people are going to talk.

"They are going to talk about you, the great things you do and the weird things. It's the nature of the process. Death brings meaning into peoples lives and sometimes that meaning is pointless, but there are times when it's prolific. The thing that you need to remember is, you do what you do. What makes you feel comfortable; because in that is where the healing begins. Only you know what you need. So do what feels right in your heart."

She cried. Thanked me. Told me I was her angel. We said our goodbyes and Ethan and I went back to what the original plan was - visiting with Christopher. Walking back to Christopher's grave, as I walked I looked over my shoulder back at that woman dressed in black. And as if God was trying to play it all out for me, I got it - the symbolism of it all. Looking back at this woman, that was me - then, the path I walked back to the car, my journey - now and what lies beyond Christopher's grave - my hopes.

On the way home I contemplated this symbolic moment in time that God afforded me to have. This week the cycle became complete. I won't lie it was hard, yet empowering that I did it - I made it a year. The bills got paid, I made the choice to put Ethan in pre-school, there has been food on the table every night, laundry got done, a roof was fixed and a new fence was put in. And I did it all - on my own. That is not anything that anyone can take from me. If there is anything I can take from this year it is that I am a survivor. I have looked the most difficult of times in the eye - stared it down, most importantly didn't blink and told it to bring it. But then again I am a 5ft-2 spicy-part-Itailan woman. I'm sorta born with 'tude if you will; it flows through my veins like propane.

A year ago I was that woman sitting by her husband's grave, questioning "what's next? what am I suppose to do?" It had only been 16 short months prior to that that I was planning what great anniversary gift I was going to get the man I loved, the man that gave me a beautiful child, the man that meant the world to me. I was planning a great evening of candle light, romance and everything that goes with it. What I got him was a visit from his Aunt who had been told she had stage four breast cancer and beat it in the hopes that it would give Christopher hope that he could beat his cancer. We spent our anniversary in the hospital, his room adorned with photos of Ethan and I, flowers and cards of wishes of "getting well soon". That's sorta when life changed. I changed.

After countless hours of therapy I have come to terms that was the weekend that I started the grieving process. It was hard for me to shake the feeling that we had been down this road with his mother - was this the same road and path that was meant for Christopher? I told my self - his mom fought for 3 years - he can fight for more. And as much I was "Sally Sunshine" to my friends and told them I had hope - the little voice in the back of my head told me to enjoy the time I have with him, because nothing in this world is promised to us.

I spent countless hours doing research during my lunch hour trying to see what new cancer research was out there - what were doctors finding out about cancer - what natural remedies were people finding helpful with the side effects of chemo. I knew more about cancer than I ever wanted to. I was a wife, mother, nurse, housekeeper, friend and therapist. In the last few months of Christopher's life I took care of everything. He's only responsibility was his own work and beating cancer.

I had my moments of sorrow and broke down on him and in only Christopher fashion he made me feel better; that he could beat anything. Besides he always got what he put his mind to - he had me right... He was my rock and all I could wonder was how was I to make life move along without him?

Am I that same person who sat out by that grave a year ago? No. I've had to become so much more. The strong mother, the fun-loving daddy, the breadwinner, and everything else that I was before - and do it all with a smile. I've gained a shell that's a little harder around the edges, I don't put up with, well excuses the term, bullshit - life is way to short to deal with excess drama that doesn't even need to be brought up. I won't justify it. I've always been the sarcastic one - I'm just a little more so now - ok maybe more like ten fold (but whos really keeping track right). I've learned to forge my pain and frustration into sarcasm and amazingly some people find it down right funny while others think I'm being mean. And well, oh the _____ well. I've been through allot, 'nuff said.

I've learned to be a Mommy and Daddy to Ethan. I refuse for Ethan to feel left out of Father-esique projects just because he can't physically give his Daddy his love or a school made version of a soup-can-made-pencial-case. I am both. I can be the stern dad and loving mom. I am building memories so one day when Ethan asks "other kids go camping with their daddy's why can't I?" I can look him in the eye and tell him that his daddy with him always - to explain that when the wind blows on his face, it's his daddy telling him he's proud of him or when it rains down upon him, it's his daddy's tears of love that fall upon him. I will be both for my muppet; the one that plays catch, shows him how to fish, hike, camp, and anything else that boys do with their daddy's.

I will still have days that are hard and there will be days that find my self not in check with my emotions, but I know I made it a year and I will make it through many more.

One of my favorite lyrics is from a song by 10 years' "Day Dreamer" - "the day dreamers nightmare is to never even try." How true is that statement; it's my new motto in life. I am a day dreamer. Always have and always will be. Recently though my day dreams went on sabbatical for the last two and half years. With that said I've been trying to get back to my child like ways and start to day dream again. Right now my day dreams are more hopes than anything, but it's a start, right?

I hope that one day Ethan understands what has happened in his life - that I have given him the foundation of faith and love to accept the hand of "52 pick up" that we were delt. That he finds peace in his heart and mind and that he isn't afraid to ask questions about his daddy.

I hope that one day I am blessed with more children. Yes I said it - I would love to have more children. Is it in the cards? I don't know. Having more children means meeting someone and having a relationship and well that scares the living "shiznit" out of me. I knew how to have a relationship with Christopher - how do you have one with someone else? But then again this is my hope, so I hope one day I figure it out (but I'm in no rush to figure it out either). And to be honest as much as I would like to have more children, I am also at peace if in the end it has been God's plan all along for it to just be the two of us.

I'm glad I went to that woman, sitting there all alone. Even if she left there thinking I'm nuts, the act of going to her and talking to her helped me understand the "d" that looked backed on who she was, is and wants to be. This is real. This is me.