Living Strong

Equal To

2012-01-18T11:28:00.000-08:00

I had this whole blog post written out; even found the perfect photo that would go with it. Then the Music Man and I had a conversation that has changed this whole post in a way. Like I said before, I have to remind myself that the Music Man didn't know Christopher because he talks about him like he did and respects the relationship that Christopher and I had and for that I'm truly blessed.

The other night he and I had a really long conversation about a friend of mine and the rough time she's going through after divorce. I expounded on how after reading one of her blogs I wanted to reach out and hug her and explain to her that all her feelings were normal; for in the end no matter how you lose your spouse, everyone grieves for the relationship that they had.

I explained to him how shortly after Christopher passed I went to a free support group that met twice a month. It was set up for families who had lost a loved one and were dealing with that loss. There were people there who were divorced and just there for their kids. There were people who had been going for years and yet still couldn't find a place with their grief that made them feel that life was going to be ok. Then there were people like me. People that had recently lost their spouses and didn't know what happens next.

I quickly befriended a woman who had children Ethan's age and got to know her. Her husband passed quickly in an accident and our stories couldn't be more different. While I had time to tell Christopher all I wanted which helped put my mind at ease; her and her husband got into a fight and she left with the kids to go to the store only to find when she got home that their house burned down and he failed to make it out. I remember her hashing out her story and how she had gone a year without talking to almost anyone about her feelings. Then there was me who the second I found out that Christopher was going to pass had made a mental notes to find a grief therapist. We were so different and yet I still saw a little bit of me in her.

She was strong and put her kids first above all else. She was dealing with things one day at a time. She had her good days. She had her bad days. She had days that all she wanted to do is lay in bed, but knew that wasn't going to feed her kids or keep a household running. She swallowed her emotions whole to deal with at a later date in time. She was me. I was her. Our situations different, but dealing almost the same way. We related - in a way.

Then one day after the holidays we were in group and we had to talk about something positive in our lives (being that Valentines day was right around the corner). One-by-one everyone shared their stories of how they met the person they lost or a touching memory that stayed with them. I shared how on the first Valentine's Day after we were married I walked out to my car only to find that it was filled with red, pink and white balloons and a vase of flowers in the cup holder. I grinned when I explained how I had to smile -- not only for the visual that a car full of balloons brings, but how in the hell was I going to get to work (on time) and how in the hell did Christopher manage to squeeze as many balloons as he did in my Passat!?! But that's why I love(d) him. He always kept me on my toes.

Then it was this other's woman's turn to share. I remember thinking that her story might be similar just based on conversations that she and I had in the past. I was ready to reach over and hold her hand when she might start to cry. I was ready to be there for this woman I considered similar to myself.

She looked at the group. She looked at her feet and took a deep breathe. I thought to myself how this memory must be painful to rehash and I was posed with a tissue to hand-off at any moment. She started to talk; then stopped. A rather long sigh exhaled from her and then she spoke.

"We are suppose to talk about a happy moment?"

The mediator in the group nodded his head. Another long sigh came from her and then she spoke again.

"Well then my happy moment is I'm excited about Valentine's day," she paused and took another deep breath.

"The guy I've been dating for a few months has a really nice evening planed and I'm excited. My life is better that it ever has been; even when I was with my husband. And this is something I'm really looking forward to."

Everyone in the group just stared. There were even some jaws that hit the floor. And yes I'm sad to say I was one of those people that were in complete shock. I couldn't fathom telling people that my life was better than what I had before, or even feeling that emotion. The next few months she didn't show back up to group and I stopped going because honestly I felt like I got more out of my personal therapy sessions than I did with the group. But the memory of that woman's story stuck with me. I remember laying in bed wondering what she went through to think that her life is better now? I thought about how I could never say it. And I would never say that.

I sat in bed thinking how I would never date; because I never wanted to fight with feeling that if I opened myself up to someone else that it would mean that what Christopher and I had was a joke, something that meant nothing to me. I didn't want people to look down on me and question my every move. I didn't want to have to explain to someone that I could never love them because my heart only belonged to one person or that they could never better my life because I had already had the best life could offer.

I would listen to friends going through divorce explain how going through it was the best thing that ever happened to them because it meant that they were able to find their happy again. Needless to say that idea just went over my head. I was lucky if I could go two days with a smile on my face. People dating happily always forced a fake a smile because on the inside I could just never see that for me. All I could see is a woman who just needed to make it through life till Ethan went off to college and then I would figure it all out. Sounded easy enough. It all made sense in my head.

I explained to the Music Man how this past Saturday, with Ethan tucked in bed for the night, I sat on my sofa with my laptop in my lap and I stared at my friends blog. I read over and over her post. She talked about how her ex's birthday just passed and her's was coming up soon. How this was the first time that she hadn't spent a birthday with him since she was 18. And even though she's dating a man who respects her and cares about her; she still misses her husband. She can't see how divorce will end up being something good like her friends all talk about. She misses what her and her ex husband had.

I tried to wrap my tongue around the metaphors of how my fingers danced over the tops of these keys trying to find the right words to comment on her post. I thought of "I feel your pain." But that really isn't helpful. Yes it's reassuring, but it's not comforting. I thought about posting some really long and epic montage about how when life gives you lemons you bring gin. But that wasn't going to be helpful either because I don't think she drinks gin. I thought about explaining how one day everything will make sense. But right now nothing probably makes sense to her.

Then I remember the woman whom I thought I could and yet couldn't relate to. And here I am in a relationship; so how does all this relate to my friend who feeling allot of pain as she travels through the milestones in life after her divorce? If I tell her it will get better - then what does that say about the relationship I had with Christopher? Yes, I could see how with many of her friends she might find peace with her divorce and feel that way. But I don't really think that will be the case with this friend. I could be completely wrong. I could be half-way right. But I have a feeling that she will find instead what I have found in life.

So what do I say to this woman who feels the same way I did sitting in that grief group? That was the question that I posed to the Music Man. He turned to face me and explained to me in only the way he could, all the things that I couldn't wrap my mind around how to say them.

He explained that what Christopher and I had was special and he would hope that I would never say that my life is better. That would be an insult to Christopher and the relationship we had. But what he hopes is that it's equal to what I had with Christopher. That anything less isn't good enough and it should never be better; it should be equal and different.

There will be times when I wish that the Music Man knew a little more about cooking and in his words, he will never be as great of a cook as Christopher, but he can try to be almost as good. And there will be times in my life when I prefer things the Music Man does that Christopher couldn't do because of work or preference. And none of that makes them bad or good over the other. They are different and yet equally important to what makes a relationship work.

He went on to say that he was proud of me for all that I have managed to accomplish since Christopher's passing and I should never beat myself up over things that I can't always put into words. Sometimes that's the beauty in life. Life itself is so beautiful that words can't always unfold themselves to me; and yet, I fully understand where it was I've come from in this situation that life brought me . I've grown from them. I'm a stronger woman than I was before and chose not to be the woman I was headed towards becoming. That woman that closed her self off and lived in a cocoon is gone. She's so freaking gone. She has been replaced with a woman that is more confident and stronger than she had ever been before. She emerged into the woman who lets her wings soar. My life is filled with a new adventure and the adventure of sharing it with someone else. It's an adventure that's not better than what I had, but equal to. It's one that's filled with compassion and understanding. It's one that brings that same eat-shit grin to my face again. Each is different in their own respects and yet both make happy.

It took me years to get to place where I could look forward and not lock myself into my fears of the past. It's ok to sit back and remember what "was" and in no way will life ever be the "exact" same. But it can be as good as it was. As good as you might day dream it be. It takes time. It takes understanding. And most of all it takes a growing heart to heal those pains that find their way to hurt us over and over.

To my friend who's going through a tough week. It's 100% ok to feel those feelings that flood your mind (heck it's more than 100%). You grieve for the relationship you had and what it was that you loved about it. And while yes you have a man in your life and he's understanding of everything you have been through - that also means he understands that there will be times that you need to flood those memories from behind locked doors with your tears. As time presses on you will find that the woman who hurt for those moments will find peace with all that she feels and you might even look at that woman and wonder how you got to where you were. But the important thing is you allow your self to grow and understand. Don't let your mind trick itself into thinking you're any less than what you are. A strong beautiful woman.

#healthy me

2012-01-06T08:50:00.000-08:00

(all photos in the frames are from Devine Photography)

When Christopher was told he had cancer I was the type of person that read through as many white papers, online articles and books I could find to find out more about cancer. I wanted to know everything I could about it. How it grows. Why it happens. What have people found to make going through treatments easier? In the end I was a wealth of cancer knowing information.

I took everything that I had read and applied it to our lives. I changed the way we ate. How we went about our daily lives. Christopher even went as far to try mental warfare on his cancer. Whatever it took; we did it. When Christopher passed away I knew right away what this all meant for my muppet. His chances for cancer are higher than most kids, but he has leg up on those other kids because his mom knows the type of cancer that he might be predisposed to and how to fight it before it can ever happen. It's not all about diet, but most if it is.

See colon cancer LOVES a diet that is high in fat and low in fiber. And I won't lie when I read that fact I had to shake my head and ask myself why no one told Christopher this when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. But then again when she was diagnosed her doctors also told her she could drink soda and fatty foods to keep the weight on during chemo and NOW we know that was wrong because cancer eats sugar for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So knowing all that I do know about cancer and how it "thinks" so to speak I change the way my house thinks about food. I don't buy canned foods (green beans don't come from a can around my house). I cut out red meat for most of our diet. This means very little pork and steak. Yes you heard me right - pork. Pork is NOT the other white meat. Ask any nutritionist and they will confirm what I just typed. Pork is so high in fat that it's actually classified as red meat on a nutritional scale.

Now while all this sounds great and YAY me for doing all this for Ethan. I sorta left me as a loop hole. Yes when all this changed I lost around 40 pounds (basically I lost all the extra baby weight that I was struggling to get rid of). But then I hit a wall. I could run, workout, and try my hardest to keep losing weight, but I never really could get below a certain weight and feel like I was making progress. Then a friend of mine got really into fitness. She was doing what I did with cancer. She poured over books and read everything she could about it (following her on twitter was an eye opener - follow her on Twitter at @SheIsStrong).

It made me want to change the way I saw myself. I've always viewed myself as physically strong (heck I carried a 45 pound Ethan almost a quarter of a mile asleep on my shoulder one night on the way back from Disney World and didn't blink an eye). I'm strong for someone who's only 5' 2". But I've never been happy with the amount of fat that I carry around. Yep I said it. FAT. Want to hear it again? FAT. FAT. FATTY. FAT. You know that little extra stuff you carry around your middle. Muffin top? Love handles? Buddha belly? Whatever you want to call it - I got a little of it. And it's all from drinking too much soda, eating fast food at lunch when I shouldn't and snacking on tasty treats that pop up into the office or my house.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm 5'2" and 127lbs (on an average day). I'm not overweight when you look it up on the height and weight ratio - but I am what you might call "skinny fat". I carry around a little extra fat than someone else my size. So my goal this year wasn't to lose weight. It's to lose fat. And yes, losing fat will cause me to loose weight - BUT that is not the goal.

Ok hear me out. If I say I want to lose weight; the average person (myself included) would try to watch calories, maybe cut carbs and work out harder. However, when you change the way your mind thinks (like wanting to lose fat over weight) you allow yourself to eat more fruit than normal or not take that one Hersey's Kiss because only one has 25 calories (or whatever it is that we tell ourselves). I can continue to work out the same amount as I do without having to kill myself with hours upon hours of work outs.

I guess the bottom line is Ethan only has one parent and I need to make sure that I am there for him through as many years as I can. My honest goal is to live to be 100. Yeah I said it. I want to see my muppet turn 70! Yeah yeah - big goals; but hey I dream BIG! ;)

Now for those people who want to try and change the way their mind thinks about health, food and working out I strongly suggest checking out CoachCalorie.com. This site is amazing! More than amazing - I've learned so much and just taking a few articles that I've read and applied the thoughts behind them to my life over the past 5 days I've lost 2lbs. Yes that's more than I want for a week (I really don't want to lose more than a pound a week if I lose weight), but what that tells me is that my body was used to all the C-R-A-P I put into it. It means that there is nothing wrong with my metabolism and it's running at the pace it should be. I was just putting all the wrong things into my body for it to do what it needed to do.

What did I change you might ask? Well I didn't go cold turkey on soda; I just told myself that I could have one can (or small glass) of soda a day for two weeks. Then I will go to every other day, to once a week, to none at all. It's hard. Don't get me wrong when I went out to eat recently it was hard to order water when I normally go for a Coke. But I did it and I was proud of myself for doing it (hint: order it with a lime in it if you don't like the way water taste - it adds a little something to it). I also bring my breakfast, lunch and snacks to work everyday and I sit the lunch bag right on my desk to remind me that it's there (it also keeps me out of the break room from anything that might tempt me). I'm changing things slowly and benefiting from it already.

For anyone that wants to follow what I do I'm going to post on the Living Strong Facebook page some of my meals and workout with the hashtag of #healthyme. It's just another way to keep my self honest and moving forward towards a healthier and happier me in 2012. I challenge all of you out there who want to change what they see in their lives to start now. Not in a month or when things slow down in your life. NOW. TODAY. Right this second even. Our lives are our gifts to ourselves and our children. And like my parents taught me - any gift from anyone is a gift that should be accepted and accepted with graditude because it means that someone took time out to think about us. So start thinking about a healthier you. Take care of the greatest gift we have. Ourselves. For all those people that bring joy into your life. Make 2012 a #healthyme.

The Music Man

2012-01-04T11:31:00.000-08:00

Ever have those moments when your iPod falls onto a song that you haven't listened to in awhile, or you put a new or lost CD in your player only to come across the most beautiful song that fills your heart with meaning and excites the mind in ways that you thought might never happen? For me it happens a lot. So much so, that a lot of my blog posts are all inspired through the thoughts that are manifested through the gentle sounds that fill my ears and float through my head. Honestly, if music left this world, this artist would surely struggle and possibly starve. It's the one thing in my life that has helped me through so much (musical therapy if you will) and yet it's the one thing that continuously grows with no end in sight.

Music (in any form) is a lyrical symposium of an infinite creative play on words, notes, metaphors and harmonic symphonies; that plays on every sense that fills my soul. It spins a web through the complex emotions that maze through my mind and allows those feelings that I can't always put into words and sanctions them to escape on the back of tunes that help me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day.

Each year I have written a letter to Christopher about how much he still amazes me and how much even after time has passed that I still love him with the wholest of my heart. I write to Ethan about the amazing strides that he has over come and how such a small little person changed my life and did wonders when I needed it the most. And all he had to do was smile to make that happen. I write about what I do on those days that are still milestones in my life and what making it through another year means me, but this year things are different.

Life for me is different right now. I'm in a place where it's not late breaking news that the woman who lives on the corner lost her husband and she's left to raise a two year old son. I'm the woman on the corner who has brought that two year old to day care, pre-school, other transitions in life and now walks him to kindergarten every morning. I'm the woman on the corner who sits outside on nice nights when the son she adores is asleep and drinks a glass of wine on her front stoop letting her mind swim through her day dreams. I'm the woman who finds the humor in shows she thought she once lost. I am the woman who found her rhythm in life if you will.

Now, with Ethan in school, soccer and faith formation classes (aka Sunday School), there is another part of my life that needs to be addressed and shared for this new year. Since Christopher passed I have watched my single friends date; some poorly, some struggling to find their way through the dating scene and all the while others were skipping joyfully through it finding the loves of their lives. It's something I've watched, marveled at and sometimes closed my eyes and shook my head.

One of the thoughts that run through my head for some time is could I ever commit to another man? Yeah I've blogged about how I want it; well more so that I would like another child or even just the idea of sharing my life with someone else. However, each time after hitting the post button I was always left with the question of "do I really want all that"? I knew front ways, side ways and in all ways that Christopher loved me like no other. I was his queen. His cheerleader. His greatest defender. The love of his life. So honestly, how can any man really see me that way too? Aren't you only supposed to have one love of your life? Am I capable of love at all? That was always a weekly war in my head. How can you fathom to give your heart to someone when so much of it is taken by someone else? The idea of being single seems easy after all that runs through your head.

One lone day during therapy my therapist explained to me that I don't have to share my heart; I just have to learn to let it grow and there will be someone who will not only be ok with the fact that part of my heart beats for someone else; but will understand and love the fact that it does.

Ok wait - back up the bus? What did my therapist say? That someone will love the fact that I'm still in love with someone else? Was my therapist smoking the good stuff; because I couldn't see anyone loving me. Or that someone would love me for my loyalty to the relationship that I had. Because honestly, if I woke up one day and just didn't still care for this man, this man that I write about and pour my heart out about - then what kind of relationship did we have to begin with that I could toss aside the love we had just to be with someone else?

Then I met the Music Man. We both found each other interesting. His grandmother had lost her first husband, leaving her with a daughter of only a few years old. And he had always heard the story of how God always brings love into your life as long as you allow it. Needless to say, knowing that little fact about him; how in a way, he was on the "other end" of what I was going through was comforting. His mom and her older sister have different fathers and he's the grandson from this other love that his grandmother was brought to. It was almost as if I was being shown that life does go on and here is this family as proof.

We talked. Became friends. We both share a love for music (honestly he's the only person I know who listens to music the same way I do). His music collection completely surpasses mine (hence why I've nicknamed him The Music Man). He was the first person that I had ever met that we could not only talk about the bands we like, but talk about how music made us feel and how sometimes there is a song that has the best lyrics in the world and yet the notes that surround it don't light a candle to it. Or just the opposite. He's the kind of person that when he reads the first paragraph of this blog will get a huge smile to his face because he completely gets it. Because he feels music the same way I do too.

But that isn't even the best part about this man - this Music Man. The best part is we are truly best friends. I have to remind myself from time to time that he never met Christopher because he talks about him like he did. When I'm upset he reminds me of the loving relationship Christopher and I shared and how there is proof in my Muppet. We've spent many a conversation sharing about our lives and our own struggles with what has gone on in them that it feels like we have been friends for more than the short time we really have been. He's been there as a shoulder to cry upon, vent on, share my fears with and as of late he's been a driving force supporting the things I do with Ethan and my own personal goals in life. He is always there when I need the random help.

One of our ongoing conversations is for me to find happiness. He's always stated that for me to love anyone I needed to work on breaking down the wall that I placed around my heart. That what I went through was hard, but I've proven I'm more than a strong woman and now I need to work on bringing the things that make me the happiest inside my heart so I can break the wall that surrounds it from the inside out. Yes, there is a wall around me. I've known it from the day I was told that cancer entered into my life. It's one that I've built stronger and stronger as I've tried to make it through explaining those tough questions that Ethan and life put in front of me. It's one that I didn't think would ever really fall and part of me wanted it to stay because it was easier to have that than to allow life to hurt me again.

Then one day I was on my way out and the Music Man volunteered to watch Ethan for me. While I ran around gathering my things I hear Ethan ask him in a inquisitive tone, "Do you know where heaven is?" My heart and feet stopped in mid beat. All I could think of is, please don't answer this question, I haven't warned you as to what to say…..

Then before I could intervene I heard him say in a kind and gentle voice, "Yes I do. Heaven is where God is. God created heaven."

My little muppet paused and asked back, "Do you think my daddy is in heaven?" Again my heart stopped and my mind raced as to how I was going to jump into this overly innocent conversation between the two.

The Music Man paused and said in the same gentle voice, "Yes I do. And I think he's in a wonderful place where he looks down on you every day." I fought back the tears and continued to get ready to head out. The whole time I was gone I thought how blessed I was that Ethan had asked the Music Man those questions and not some random sitter that might have been there, because he answered them the way I would have wanted him to. The way that I had always written I had hoped that someone would. And down fell a little pebble that surround my heart.

I started to realize that this man who was not only my best friend meant more to me. He was more, but not just because he could answer a question right to Ethan; he was more because he has been the person who understands me. He understands the situation I come from and when tears fall he's the first to let me know that it's not only ok to be upset, but that he is there to talk, listen or let me scream about it and will never shun me for any thoughts that pop into my head and possibly cloud my thoughts.

He's the man that finds it beautiful that I have had such a great love already in my life; because that means that what Christopher and I had was special and that in return makes me a special person. He's the type of man that I would want around my Muppet. He's understanding of any emotions Ethan might have, but doesn't let him get away with sneaking a cookie and is the first to always tell Ethan that he should listen to his mom.

He's the type of person that always tries to find a solution to a problem and does what he can to help out. He's calm. Reserved. He's not a hot head and he's not the kind of person that would fly off the handle just because things don't go his way or as planned. He grounds me when I get upset and balances me. His confidence in me brings me strength I didn't know I have and he drives me to want to be a better person, boss, mom and friend.

Some might think he's weak for his kindheartedness; however, those people are the weak ones who can't see that it takes a strong man to be with someone who still talks about her late husband and the struggles that might come from watching the end of a sappy movie. It takes a strong man to want to be a part of a child's life who isn't even his. It takes a strong man to deal with everything that comes on the mix-tape of my life.

It takes a strong man to do all these things and remain understanding and willing to talk about the things that flood my mind. It takes for me the understanding and balance the Music Man brings to my life - not only as friends, but as someone that I want to share all my thoughts and things with.

Thank you Music Man for being there for me. For helping me during those times when I needed it the most. Thank you for being that random song that fills my ears and helps me let go of sorrow, take hold of joy and feel the warmth of memories that I fear I will lose one day. Thank you for being the man that I need in my life right now. And most of all thank you for being that man that I can rest my head on and feel like life has a whole new adventure again.

What A Year Can Teach Us

2011-12-27T11:44:00.000-08:00

Photos from left to right: June - Disney World; June - Ethan's 5th bday; August - First Day of Kindergarden; November - Ethan's 2nd Soccer Game

One of the things I like to do is to sit back and reflect on what the year brought me, taught me and what I took from it. I know allot of people don't do this and I am sure there are people out there that can't wait for this year to pass without even wanting to look back. And yes I've had those years where I can't wait for one to end and hope that the other brings me something better than what I had; but, I've always sat down and reflected on the past. I do this for one main reason - without reflection history is bound to repeat its self and the choices or course of action that made it a bad year might repeat itself too. It's a fact; you have to take what you learned from your mistakes and gathered from your wise choices to help make better choices in the future. It's something I wish more people would do.

2011 brought me a lot of things. Some things that are worth sharing and some that are not. I learned this year that people can be closed minded and no matter what you tell them - it's always their way. They don't want to be open to idea of letting new people or ideas into their lives. It's sad to think that in this world there a lot of good people and/or ideas and yet some people are so trapped inside their own ideas and thoughts on matters that they never open up and allow these other great people and/or ideas into their lives. I'm not one of these people. I try to see the good in everyone - even those that it might be hard to see past what other people can't. I look deep inside myself to understand people or their thoughts and the reason they are the way they are. The common man (everyone for that matter) is a product of their situations. I like to call it the cause and effect theory. If someone's father lost all their money in the stock market the effect might make the father leary of any type of investment and might even trickle down to the father's children if there is enough talk in the household about it. Everything is life is cause and effect and this is why reflecting back on things is helpful. It keeps random fears from taking over our lives. So as I enter into 2012 I will still try to see the good in all people and be open to their thoughts and ideas; however, I just might be more open to share with those that are closed minded how they need to be more open or show the other side of the coin they refuse to look at.

I also learned that even with some time that has past there will still be milestones in Ethan's life that will break my heart and bring me joy all at the same time. There will be moments where my heart swells with pride and yet breaks with a sadness that will remain with me for the rest of my years. And while this sadness might lighten as the years past it will always sit in the corner of my heart where my fond memories of the one I love(d) sits. I'm also blessed to have people in life who understand this and embrace it rather than run from it or chastise it. It truly does make me feel blessed.

I watched this year as friends got divorced, dated, broke up, got remarried and yet through all of this found what makes them happy. I was one of those people too who looked inside myself and found what makes me happy. I found in life that sometimes those around us that help us grow as people are the best friends we could ever ask for. It's the people that challenge us to be better people, mothers, fathers, coworkers, forward thinkers and better friends to those around us that are the strongest and loving people in our lives. It's the people that love and care about you from the inside out and who accept every facet of our lives that are the best people we could surround ourselves with. (I'm so glad to have all those people in my life.)

This year has brought me challenges as a mom and having Ethan in school, faith classes, play therapy and soccer. Balancing time has become something I'm rather good at it and while it took some creative thinking at times to make it all work (and sometimes it didn't work at all) - BUT I did it. I had to make choices so that I could be there for my muppet when I think he needed me the most and worked on letting go of somethings so he could grow one day it to a better and stronger man who doesn't let fear rule his life. It's a struggle that all parents go through and I had to face these challenges head on this year while also confronting my own fears on the subject. However, Ethan and I are both stronger for it and I'm proud of the strives that both of us have made in our respective areas. (Have I said lately how much I love my muppet?)

This next year I have a plan that I have been working on for the last few months. It's a plan that will start on the new year and one that I hope brings more growth to my life. I want to run more and become faster at the 5k I do every September (my goal will by 25-30 min 5k this year). I want to focus more on my art and becoming a better artist and boss to my coworkers (so happy to open my new art books I got this Christmas from my parents!). The plan is to share more of my life with those around me and let them know what they mean to me (this especially goes for my neighbors and good friends - I can't wait for Corpus 2012!). I want to share with Ethan the beauty that is around us and how life isn't about "Angry Birds" or "Thomas the Train" - it's about experiencing what life has to offer us and the beauty of nature around us (Go family vacation 2012!). Then I want to do somethings for myself. I've always put Ethan above all else and he always be my first priority in life (and he will still be my first priority in life), but I understand needing to do things for myself and bettering my self; because in the end bettering myself helps better Ethan's life too (Yeah more Mommy time).

I hope everyone out there can reflect on their 2011 and look forward to their 2012. Not just because it's a new year, but a new start to everything. It's never to late to change the way you think about things that happen in your life. It's never too late to change the way you think and process the events that happen during the past and upcoming year. It's all just a state of mind that takes the biggest step to say I want this to be my year because _____(insert your dreams here)______. Pax and Happy New Year.

A Praline Christmas Story

2011-12-22T11:20:00.000-08:00

So I know I haven't blogged in forever, but it's not for a lack of me trying. Ethan's in soccer, faith classes and other assorted things that I'm not always sure if I'm coming or going (but man does the North Dallas Tollway get their fair share of me). One of my resolutions is to blog more. More about Ethan and what he's doing and just things that are going on in ourlives that's fun and exciting. My goal is once a week, but we will see how that one goes between soccer, faith classes and the other assorted things Ethan does. However, I wanted to take some time and slow things down a bit and share with my readers my version of a Christmas story and what Christmas means to me. Each year I make pralines for my friends, family and neighbors - 30-35 batches a year (although I think I might have made 40 this year - there is no telling) and I like to joke with people that I make these ever-so-tasty goodies because I don't eat pralines; ergo I don't have to worry about any unwanted extra pounds that come from taste testing these little Christmas goodies. Smart huh (don't you wish you had thought of that (insert evil little grin))?!? But to be honest that's not 100% of why I make them; in fact it's only 1%. So why do I make these little candy cookies that take an hour to make and only yield 12-14 a batch - sounds like way too much work for something people just ingest right? Well for me it doesn't matter if I slave over the stove or sing gleefully over it. What matters to me is what those twelve little cookies mean to me.(Insert fade to flash-back) I consider my hometown New Orleans. And yes, while I only lived there the first 3 years of my life; it's where my grandparents lived and visited often and every corner of my mind is filled with sweet memories of them, their stories and great times. My grandparents were the kind of people who would slave over a stove for days making tasty red beans and rice or fried egg plant and stocked the freezer full of ice cream if they knew you were coming and liked it. It was their way of saying - I'm glad you're here. Ten days after Christopher passed; my grandmother passed away too. To say it was a low point in my life is an understatement of epic proportions. It was at that point that God and I had a little conversation where I did most of the talking and while I explained I wasn't renouncing him or my faith in him, I just didn't agree with his choices or plan. My life was crushed...and just a few short months before the holiday season was about to be upon us. What was I going to do? How was I going to handle it? And how do I tell these neighbors who were there for me the whole time that I appreciated them more than I could ever put down in words when all I wanted to do is crawl under a rock and hope the holidays to pass quickly? As Christmas came closer and closer I asked got to bring my mind peace found my thoughts drifting to Christopher and his giving heart and my Grandmother and how she showed loved through her cooking (she was truly the best cook and I can only hope and pray that I'm as good as her). My mind twisted and turned around the memories of both of them and how they both taught me that life isn't about what you have, but who you share it with and to tell them forth right how much they mean to you. A plan began to form and before I knew it was standing over a stove making something I had never made before - tweaking and testing, tweaking and guessing and before I knew it I had made one, then two, four, twelve, twenty batches of something that reminded me of the love and care that two people brought to my life. There in these assorted shapes and sizes was a tasty treat for others, but chalked full of memories, tears and joy that danced in my head while I made them. Each dozen was carefully placed in a pretty little box with a white bow. Hand delivered with Ethan in tow and as each person opened their doors to us and their eyes got big and each person cracked a smile it filled my heart with joy.
For me sharing those little boxes of my heart was the best gift that I could share with those that had been there for me; it was the best way to keep the memory of two people who mean/meant the world to me and always reminded me it's not what you have, but what is in your heart. The next year, I made them again, then the year after that and again this year. The number of batches has grown from my original twenty to almost 35-40, but it doesn't matter to me. Each batch is made with love, memories, great conversations from whom ever happens to stop over while I'm making them. They are a little piece of New Orleans that I call home. But most of all they are the little reminders of those I love and lost and how they help keep the meaning of life, love and Christmas in my heart. It's not what you can buy for your self or others, it's giving that little part of you to others to share and love. It's about always telling those around you how much they mean to you and how thankful you are to have them in your life. And most importantly it's about the tenderness of goodwill that we share with those that fill our lives every day and might only pass through it once. I wish you all a Merry Christmas. Pax Denise

October 12th

2011-11-06T13:38:00.000-08:00

On October 12th my facebook book status was,"[Today] I remember how life all changed 3 yrs ago." It was that day,three years ago that Christopher's battle with cancer ended. It was a day whereI knew; life as I knew it was going to be different – completely. And as Istarted on my new path of my new normal and my own self discovery I saw how itwas all so different and yet still the same.

This morning I walked my little muppet to school -in the rain. Yes the rain. Ethan loves the rain like there is no other; whichhe takes after his dad. Christopher's belief was that the rain was pure andclean; so, ergo you have to walk in the rain at least once in your life tounderstand what life is all about. It was/is an interesting philosophy to saythe least and one that as I move closer to my zen I’m starting to understandwhere he was coming from. So it didn't surprise me (at all) that that day Ethanwanted to walk in the rain. So we did.

I will admit that when I suggested to Ethan that wedrive to school I might have been a hair bent out of shape when he exclaimedthat he wanted to walk and I just might have started to put the proverbialMommy foot down on that choice. However, that day is the one day out of theyear that I promised myself that Ethan and I resided in a different plain, forthis one day, we are friends – equals in a way. We both experienced a loss andmy loss is no greater than his. The pain that might find it’s way into my heartis no sharper or stronger than the one that will/might find it’s way into his.This was a day of celebrating the life of the one we lost and the life of theone who bought so much joy into our hearts. So… we walked… in the rain.

We jumped puddles. We laughed. We goofed off. Ethantold me I walk too fast. I joked that’s because he walks too slow. We madesilly faces at each other. I asked him if he was going to have good day and hesaid in a very loving tone, “today I will be brave mommy.”

I was taken aback. I have never really explainedwhat this day means directly to Ethan. I have never felt like it was the righttime; yet. However, I have shown him through changing things we do on this daythat today is a very special day for the both of us; even going as far to say,“today is a special day and one day I will explain it all to you when you areolder.” So for my muppet to express his bravery to me – it was heart stoppingand stopped me in my tracks.

When we got to school he hugged me, told me that heloved me and as he ran into the building turned and blew me a kiss. My heartfilled with warmth; he’s never done that on the way to school. See, if you knewEthan you would know how much he loves school and how as I drop him off he runsto get to his class room because he craves learning. So this simple little gestureof his love and devotion made my day just a little brighter.

I went home and got ready for something I have be working on for thelast 16 months. Why 16 months? Well that’s how long Christopher was on chemo.It’s how long h roughly his overall battle with cancer was. So it’s in my wayof reminding me of his struggles and keeping in my heart that he never gave up.This day I cut off the 12” of hair that I’ve been growing out. It’s been alabor of love to say the least – the summers are the worst with long hair andwe’ve had a pretty warm one here in Dallas this past summer. But it’s a laborof love that I not only loved doing, but knew that at the end of this journeyit would go to a child in need and that is all I needed to know to know thatthis gift was one I couldn’t give up on.

Cutting all that hair off was emotional to say the least. It’s one ofthose emotions where you feel like as high as a kite before your about to do it– then as it’s happening your asking your self why you are doing this – thenit’s done and you look and see what you are able to give someone and it fillsyour heart with so much joy you almost burst from the inside out.

After getting my hair cut I ran and got some cup cakes and then was offto pick up my muppet. He was so excited to see me and me for him. We hugged andhe asked what we were going to do (being that I picked him up earlier thannormal). I told him we were going to visit daddy and that I had some cup cakesfor us to eat. He was super excited and asked if we could leave a cup cake fordaddy too.

When we got out to the grave, we sat and talked about his day at schooland what things were his favorite part about the day. We talked about how good thecupcakes were and how he “loved” these cup cakes.

We didn’t stay long, Ethan managed to eat the frosting off a cupcake ortwo and I realized that we needed to get some dinner before he filled up onsugery-frosting-goodness.

That day was hard to fathom being that it’s been 3 years and yet feelslike it was so much longer than that and yet there are times that it feels likeonly a year ago. Grief is a strange thing. Its one where I don’t think youcompletely lose the feeling of loss – you just learn how to cope with theemotion that sits in your heart. And there might be times that we encountertriggers and it brings those emotions to the surface, but as long as we work onunderstanding them and processing them then they become easier to handle andunderstand.

I had a good day of remembering the one I lost and yet remembering whatthis life has in store for me and what I can do for it. Pax.

From Vanity To Charity

2011-10-11T08:31:00.000-07:00

Last year I ran a run that not only was one of the bestthings I had even done for my self, but for the benefit of other people. It wastherapeutic in nature and helped me take moving forward to a whole new leveldue in part to my iPod stopping just a few songs in and leaving me to floatwithin the maze of thoughts that I had put off getting lost in and having someconversations with God that needed to be had.

I ran this run for the memory of a man that consistentlychallenged me to be a better person and for the future of one that never reallyknew his father and has so much of life that will be missed because of this(not to mention what will come into his life due in part to having his fatherand grandmother pass from the same cancer). It’s a run that I will continue to run from now until mylegs won’t hold me up to cross the finish line.

This year’s run was a little different for me; mentally andphysically. Mentally due it part to the fact that another year had gone by andI’m just in a different place with how I feel about life, cancer, God and theplan that is set for Ethan and I. I’m ok with everything and while I mightstill have my moments when I break down and remember the things I lost – I justdon’t live in that part of my mind any more. There is a peace that resided inthat part of my mind and I owe allot to how I got there. It took taking time todiscover who I was. Not just discovering whom the “d” was without Christopher,but the “d” that I’ve always wanted to be. The “d” that I had always aspired tobe and yet never really felt like I was putting 100% of my self behind it. The“d” that was always caught up with work, cancer and what else I could add to myplate to keep from having to think about what was going on in life in general.

Part of that change started with Christopher and aconversation he and I had when he was in the hospital after finding out he hadcancer. I sat in this little white room with a TV that seem to play WalkerTexas Ranger on every hour and on the 8 of 10 stations it had available. Thesmell was overly clean, but not in that piney clean sorta way; it was stale andsterile. The sounds of other people on the floor coughing and turning andknowing that they too had cancer was madding being that Christopher was theyoungest person on the cancer wing. Christopher was dressed in those seethrough gowns and in only Christopher fashion he was up beat and cheerful. Hewas ready to make a plan and we talked about everything and anything. Wechatted on how aggressive this cancer was, his will to fight this more thanjust the average tooth-and-nail; how we, as a family, was going to attack thiscancer.

Faith, nutrition, medicine (Chemo), physical fitness andmental health was our plan. It was a good plan that both Christopher and Iagreed to and one that while we discussed how we would make all this happen. Christopher and I made a pack that we would do whatever we could to be therefor others facing similar situations; no matter what. It was at that point thathe looked at me and challenged me to grow my hair out and cut it all off togive to Locks of Love. First let me say this wasn’t really an odd challenge forme. I’m notorious for growing my hair out then on a whim cutting it all off –so why don’t I “put that to good use” is how he phrased it.

I scheduled my first donation of hair months in advance;which ended up being just barely two week after his passing. I remember goinginto to my hairdresser and being asked, “are you ready” and just wanting to say“no”. This was not only my hair but also they were rings of my preverbal tree.“This is where we were told he had cancer”, “surgery”, “chemo”. I couldmentally see the path of this journey through my hair. However, in the end Idid cut my hair and while if felt good to cut off that hair and give it tosomeone who is going through cancer, it was gut wrenching. I cried on the wayhome thinking – what did I do…

But a few months past and I came up with an idea. One thatwhile I thought was brilliant, I’m sure my friends all thought I was crazy and wouldcope out somewhere before the end. I wanted to donate as much hair asChristopher was tall. This was man who challenged me to do something that I hadnever thought of and I wanted to honor that thought the best way I knew how. Sowhy not donate as much hair as I could in the memory of a man who to this dayeven after his passing moves people to better themselves.

Tomorrow, I will cut off 12 inches of hair and donate itagain to Wigs For Kids in memory of Christopher as my second donation of the sixI promised to myself. As you can see from the photo it’s been a labor of loveand one that I’m not only proud to do, but absolutely love that I am. Thisprocess has helped me to discover the person I have always wanted to be. Theperson that gives up vanity for charity, to discover the greatest gift that Icould give to another person is the one that fills my soul with light and love,to give without limitation and celebrate each day with love in my heart,finding out who I am by giving up something so simple of myself.

Growing my hair out started back in July of 2010 (the monthChristopher started Chemo) and I have been watching my hair get longer andlonger and more excited with each inch that grew out. I began to think how ifother people could go through this same process of discovering and giving up alittle part of themselves how; maybe – just maybe, it might start a movement.One where people give a little part of themselves to help those in need.

It’s not about hair, but helping those around you.

I came up with the idea to start a virtual movement where inthe month of October asking people to “Give a Lock” of them selves. Take yourvanity and turn it into charity. Give a lock of yourself to something orsomeone. Donate your time to a soup kitchen, or a single mom who needs time to herself, ask the little old woman down the street if she needs help or find acharity and put a part of yourself behind it. Take that time and discover apart of yourself that you might not have ever known.

Now being that I LOVE music (and it seems to help me pushthrough those moments when I can’t find the words to sum up those complexfeelings that reside in my head) I recently asked a friend and local artist towrite a “theme song” (if you will) about the experience of giving yourself intosomething bigger than yourself. He accepted the challenged and after explainingwhy I was doing this he sent me the lyrics to a song that not only touched me becauseit was about the process I was going through; discovering myself, but it wassomething that I thought needed to be shared with everyone.

So my challenge to those of you who read this blog (and sharethis on Facebook and Twitter to those who don’t) – Give a Lock of yourself tosomething or someone. Live life without a limitation and love withoutcondition. Help those that might not ask for help. Share those stories with mein the comment section for people to read and become inspired. And to helpmotivate you, click here to listen to the single or here for the full album and I encourage you to download them (heck it's free music) – let it help you figure out who you are suppose to be. And don't forget to comment your stories that have inspired you in a way to help those around you. Pax to you all!

Looking After You

2011-09-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

This is my view from my front stoop. I've sat here many a day watching Ethan play and telling my self that I needed to soak in every color, sound, scent and exclamation of his sweet little face. For one day, before I knew it, my stoop would be empty with those colors and sounds of his laughter because time had found him and made him into a man. It was in these days that I found out that Ethan has the most amazing little gift. He takes all the urgency, the hurry up and wait, the hustle and bustle of life and slows it down to a point where time feels like it stops and it's just the two of us in this great big world of ours.

Ethan started Kindergarten last month. A day that I swore to myself would not be emotional and yet in therapy I was making mental notes that I wasn't completely sure how the day would go down because of the memories I was allowing my mind to wonder to. A photo that I took just a two months before Christopher passed is a hard photo to set my eyes upon. Not because it's a photo of Ethan and Christopher; but due in part to the exchange in conversation that took place right after I snapped it. It went something a little like this:

Christopher turning over his shoulder and carefully giving me a head nod to step up to his side so he could talk with me. Quickly walking by his side; I give him a loving smile and sigh from the heat of the day while I try and briefly squint through the blazing sun.

In a soft and loving tone Christopher states with his heart, "I think the day Ethan starts school I'll take the day off so we can walk him to school together and I can walk him home." I didn't say anything, but smile, then tear up. For the idea that he looked forward to something so far into the future meant that in his head he was going to fight; to beat cancer, and be there to see his son start school.

He wrapped his arm around me and as we walked to the park he talked about how much it will mean to him and how much sadness it would bring due to the loss of his mom. I filled the silence with words of encouragement and the conversation was ended with me saying, "you're a great dad, you just being there for him will be enough... (insert loving smile)."

Those memories while sweet and heart warming have found a way to haunted my dreams and those moments when I'm left alone to the quietness of my own thoughts. I let my fears wrap themselves around these tiny little moments and turn them into something monstrous and vivid. However, I'm the queen of these haunting thoughts - the ghost buster of fear if you will. I've learned allot in these last three years and one of them is your fear only has as much power as you are willing to give it. And I was not going to let these moments haunt me on a day so near and dear to my heart.

Ethan's first day came and I was what you could say a bottle, no - jar, no - bucket of butterflies. Nervous that I would break down. Scared that walking those same steps over again would make me sick to my stomach. I was timid from the idea that my little muppet was going to big school for the first time - and sans one parent who's one dream was to be there. However, in good ole "d" fashion, all those fears were swallowed when I walked out and took Ethan's photos and saw all our neighbor and friends out there with us to all walk to school together. (Did I ever say how much I LOVE my neighbors & friends? Well if I didn't - LOVE THEM ALL! ALLOT! BUNCHES!)

To say we had a good start, well, lets see, yeah, that, that would be a LIE. OH DEAR. Ethan cried and didn't want me to leave, but in the end I just had to walk out and pray that his day would go well. It wasn't until I got in the car to drive to work when it hit me. I looked over to change lanes and there is was. His car seat. Empty. The radio was set on my stations and not his CDs. My morning routine had changed. Forever. And I lost it. I cried. I missed my muppet. I missed the crazy singing and laughter that filled my morning commutes. This day was going to be rough...

As the day went on I sat and looked up at the clock what seemed like every five mins. Thinking. "He's at recess right now." "Now he's at lunch." "Specials." "Being picked up." That little gift that worked so to my advantage had backfired on me... Brutally. All I wanted to do is rush to his day care and hear about the wonderment that filled his day and see his glowing little smile. What I got.... well? It went something a little like this...

Walking into the day care Ethan spies me and runs up all half smiles. We hug and I ask in the most bouncing voice I can muster how his day was.

"Mommy. I. I have to tell you something."

"What is that muppet?" with one eye brow raised because you never know what that comment will get you.

"Today was my last day. I'm never going back there."

In those two little sentences I could feel my heart break and begin to separate. This is my muppet and it was more than obvious that he didn't have a good day. The car ride home was filled with rear view glances and me wanting to talk to him about this, but I also knew this was a conversation that needed to be had over some milk and cookies.

When we got home we sat on the stairs and talked. The best part about the relationship Ethan and I have is most of the time he feels free to express all that is on his mind and I treasure that so much. He told me how no one played with him at recess, he didn't understand the computer class and how he didn't have any friends in his class and felt alone.

Alone - the magic word. I loath that word. Alone is what you are when there is no one looking after you or your benefit. Alone is a horrible feeling that I spent many a months dwelling over the concept and the one emotion that I vowed never to let my child feel. It was in those moments that I explained how I felt about this day. No I didn't go into how I missed his dad, but I did explain to him that I was scared too. That each and every day I "look after you".

I look after his fears, worries and concerns and that his job is to let me know how he feels and what I can do to help him. That I look after each little detail in his life and I would always be there for him even if he can't see me or touch me. I will always look after him because the bond we have is so great. We then worked on formulating a plan to make this new transition not so scary for him. We assigned him buddies from neighbor friends to walk into the school building with. And how he can make friends with the children in his class. And I'm happy to say that school is now for him an exciting place to go and our conversations are filled with "I can't wait till...." and not "that was my last day."

I know all parents have a hard time when their kids start school - single parent or not. It's hard. Hard because as parents we all want to look after our child and ensure that they are taken care of. I praise all the parents that sent their kids off to school for the first time, first day and even with first new transitions from middle school, to high school, to college. Just because they grow, their little gifts of slowing down times keeps them young in our hearts for us to look after. Pax to you all. :)

Running For Our Lives

2011-08-16T19:10:00.000-07:00

This is the time of year where it gets close to the close of another year since Christopher passed. The first September after he passed was rough remembering the milestones of getting the phone call that life was going to change as we knew it. Explaining to the one I loved that while he had so much hope that would fill the world three times over it wasn't enough to keep him here on this mortal plain.

September became that month that could fall off my calendar and I wouldn't ever care; in fact I think I would have preferred for it to just disappear all together and those memories wiped from certain parts of my mind. But then again that's completely impossible and as I have discovered it's when we don't face the things we fear is when we lose our selves into the deepest darkest parts of our minds and as we all know that's not the healthiest way of dealing with them.

Then last year I was able to participate in a run that was a turning point in my life. One song into this 5k run my iPod died and I was left to my own thoughts for the next 3 something miles... ugh... But God had a plan that the iPod needed to die so he and I could have a talk and I was able to leave allot on that track and yet pick up the pieces of me that I didn't know I had left behind. It was so moving. To be honest I'm not really sure I can even put into words what it meant in the way that would do it justice. That day when I got home Ethan was full of questions. Why did I run? Where did I run? Did I know that Daddy was on my shirt? I won't lie knowing his curiosity for what I just done; I knew that this year I would try and make him a part of it.

So this year as I trained for my run on the treadmill (yeah, for those who don't know Dallas has been in the triple digits for a crazy amount of days) I let Ethan be apart of my training. I would put on one of his shows and we would race! Well, now let me explain the race. I tried to finish my run before his show was over. It worked great until he wanted apple juice or crackers during the run (those were the days that I lost). But I also talked to him about why his Mommy was running (and let him pose with my shoes). I explained that children are going through the same thing his dad went through and "we" need to help them the best way we know how. And this month it's through this run.

For those of you who don't know much about Heroes For Children; I encourage you to take some time and read about them and what they do for families dealing with childhood cancers. I also ask that if you are able to please donate to this wonderful charity. This year anyone who donates to my page will be put into a raffle to have the chance to win a top of their choice from BackPocket Sports. I will also like to add that if you would like me to run in the memory of someone or in the honor of someone I would be more than happy! Just comment with who and why and I will wear a band around my wrist with their name so they can run this with me and remind people that it's not about the one, but the many.

I would like to close this with a thank you to all my readers who give me strength and courage to push through the day and better myself. Pax to you all.

My Little Dragonfly

2011-07-11T20:30:00.000-07:00

Recently my mind has been consumed with a great number of things that there are days where I don't know if I'm chasing white rabbits down a hole or the other way around. My work keeps me busy as it is, but add in the life of single mother hood, stir and sometimes I feel over baked. But then again I always tell my self that I can sleep when Ethan goes off the college and well that's only what 13 years away; I can stay up that long without sleep. Just kidding. Well… maybe not… (insert sarcastic and tired *sigh* here.)

A few weeks ago I did something that for a mom is life changing; but for me, it was ever so bitter sweet. After dropping Ethan off at pre-school I drove to a building, parked in the first spot I found (which happened to be in the very back of the parking lot). Grabbed some paper work, phone, purse and started to make my way towards this building that would bring back so many memories.

As I walked across the parking lot and the sidewalk I began to listen to the droning sound of my heels click against the concert, the rhythmic pattern of it in step with my heart beat, and how both became a little quicker with each step. Those steps drifted me off through a series of memories that have been floating in my head since that fateful Tuesday when I walked into that building and asked the woman behind the desk where did I go to sign up a child for Kindergarten.

As she put me into a room and I waited for someone to help me I sat at a table made for children. I took in every little teaching aide that ordained the walls. The bright colors and over sized letters where almost visually over stimulating for this designer. And as I took in these colors and letters I could hear Christopher's voice in my head.

"Hey wouldn't it be cool if we walked him to school every morning together?," he would tell me every time we walked to the park next to the school. It was his dream to walk his son to school and yet here I sat in this empty room waiting on someone to get my paperwork and those short little walks that will start in August will be minus one parent. While trying to take my mind off these flashback snippets that ran through my head, I reviewed th

e paper worked that I had already filled out to make sure I didn't miss anything.

And there under the question "how does your child act socially," read "Ethan's Dad passed away in 2008 and Ethan sometimes shares at will that his Dad is in heaven and completely aware of what this means and what it means for him verse other children. However, some children/adults might find it shocking when he brings it up (being that it is random when he does bring it up)."

This was the only place where Christopher was mentioned. There was no place for "Father's Name" - just a spot for "Legal Guardian". It was then that I was coming to a pass in our lives, when time has us in the space where it isn't headline news that his dad is gone and yet not enough time for the sting of handling an all new milestones to

go left unnoticed. Then before I could process these feelings a woman walked in and took my paperwork, gave me a stack of paper work and asked that I sign up Ethan for a mini-tour of the school.

As I glanced at the days there it was an April 18th tour. Christopher's birthday and the 6 month mark of when he was laid to rest. I didn't even look at other days or times. I knew that was going to be the day I took Ethan on his tour. It was a way for Christopher to be there in a way that only he knew how. Again, so how he always manages to get his way when I lest expect it. May be it's the artist in me looking for meaning in everything that happens, maybe it's God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in putting their hand into something so simple and yet complex to expound on a set of emotions that I have struggled and dreaded.

I left there and sat in my SUV for a few minutes taking in what I just did, what it meant for Ethan and how we have both been presented with a new set of milestones that while are bittersweet to me, Ethan will never really know that emotional tug of war that wages in my head and find excitement in it all the little steps in his life. I let my mind flip through the pages of my memories, flashing snippets of images, smells and conversations and finding that this day was more overwhelming than I thought it would or could be. I was joyfully singing my child up for school and struggling not to let the grief of something Christopher looked so forward to not over come the day.

On April 18th Ethan and I went to the school for our tour. Ethan was scared and I think it took all of 60 seconds for him to realize and understand that his friends from pre-school were not going to his "big boy" school. And in classic Ethan meltdown he put on the brakes, cried and begged me to leave. As a mom it's heartbreaking to explain to your child that this all so scary thing - it's not that scary when you yourself remember wh

at it was like to start a new school with no friends. At times it does feel like the world will come to crashing halt and in those moments your fears come crashing in around you. Yet - I put on that "I'm concerned, but you'll be ok" face and explained that his friends on our street are also starting school and he will have friends when he comes here.

What I got back was the classic Christopher look. One eyebrow up, one down, eyes slightly squinted, lips only barely open and the only thing I was waiting for was the "uh-huh" to come pouring out. The good thing about the "Christopher look"; I looked at it for 16 years and it didn't phase me then and I wasn't about to have it phase me now - not when there was still two hours left to this "mini-tour".

Surprisingly it went well with minimal meltdown and after bringing Ethan to his pre-school and me back to work I started putting in his school dates into my computer. Meet the teacher night, popsicle night, holidays, school sessions… it started to become overwhelming. Holy Kindergarten Batman, life is about to change, dramatically.

From that day till about a week ago, there has always been a day that floats by that I think to myself what in holly hell have I gotten myself into. Not only will Ethan start Kindergarten, but he will also begin Faith Formation at our church and will have class one day a week for an hour. Then there is soccer. Yep soccer. Ethan is done with Tot-Kwan-Do and has asked to play soccer. So there goes practice night(s) and game days. SO that's another few days out of the week that I will need to schedule out of the week for us. THEN, yes then, Ethan has asked to take music lessons. And this is where I had to draw the line (for my own sanity and his). But how am I going to do this all?

Then one Saturday while walking back from the pool with my muppet; we saw something wonderful. Something that made both of us stop in our tracks. Ethan saw this subli

me little thing first.

"Mommy, look it's a draco-fly!"

And as quickly as my heart stood stir there is was. A dragonfly. Resting ever so quietly on a branch of our sage bush next to our front door. My first inclination was to just sit and stare and take it in fore the moment before Ethan was sure to bounced through and the dragon fly was sure to fly away. Then before I knew Ethan was so close to this delicate little creature that I wanted to lecture him on getting so close, but I didn't. I didn't because I was more in awe of the fact it just sat there and let us take it in. It wasn't afraid of us. Or Ethan proclaiming loudly that he loved this "draco-fly".

I quickly ran in and grabbed my camera and snapped a few shots off of a creature that represents the love Christopher and I shared and where he was now. See during his funeral our priest explained how leaving this mortal plain was like that of the life of a dragonfly. Immersed in darkness and once it finds light, it can't go home. And here sat this wonderful dragonfly who still to this day has not left my front y

ard and reminds me that even when I think I'm alone in this world - I'm not. He (Christopher) is still there to guide me when I feel as if those new aspects in life seem rough and overly bumpy. He's always here to let me know that I can do anything I put my mind to. And Ethan starting school is no different.

So in a few weeks, Ethan will start something new in his life with going to school and I will also start a new a chapter of our lives with how a whole new routine is about to unfold and be learned. And just like all new things I am sure it will be rough and a little hair pulling truing to figure out how to work, get Ethan to practices and games and balance faith as well. However, what i do know is that no matter the routine - he is there. Christopher doesn't need his name on a sheet of paper to be Ethan's dad, he only needs to rest in our hearts where it's most important.

It all started with a mouse….

2011-07-01T20:23:00.000-07:00

Walt Disney said a famous quote once that said something to the effect of “we should all remember that this all started with the love of a mouse.” And he’s right. A simple little drawing that was drawn on a train if I have my Disney lore correct. And being an artist listening to things like that make me smile for it’s in those moments when we doodle on the back of a napkin or a receipt that is buried in the deepest, most bottommost dwelling of our purse or messenger bag that can turn into something some unlawful amount of people flock to each year.

It’s the idea that something that is locked in our head can turn out to be something so magical for hundreds of thousands of people. Heck millions if not billions. That in and of its self is magical. Can you even fathom the marketing department it takes to keep a place like that running and bringing people to it each year? I would say that working for this company in their art department would be my dream job; but then again the idea of living in a place hotter than Texas? Ummmm…. That dream just might stay there in the white rabbit hole that sits between Neverland and my own Adventure Land.

I recently went on vacation with my muppet. And yes, we went to Disney World. Me, Ethan, my parents and my brother (for a short time) all stayed in my parents RV at Disney’s Fort Wilderness Camp Ground and spent 10 days exploring the World that millions flock to. It was the first time for Ethan and honestly a little over 12 years for my family and I. So yes, in a way there were things different, new and also very magical for everyone.

However, the most magical part about it all was Ethan’s face. He was so excited about the idea of Disney World, I think I could have taken him to a new mall in Dallas and he would have thought it was Disney World. Now don’t get me wrong I showed him photos on the internet and explained things where I could; but honestly, can you really explain a place like this other than through the overwhelming awe that floods into our senses when you walk down Main Street USA for the first time?

Ethan was memorized and I personally couldn’t help but revert to my ten-year-old self for him. To see him completely terrified of Big Thunder Mountain only to be completely shocked when he got off the ride and went from what I thought was him being on the edge of a melt down to jumping up and down yelling at the top of his lungs, “That was awesome! Can we go again?!?”

I loved how with each ride it became his new favorite. And with each new “fav” he added to his list, a new fav was added to mine because it was my muppet’s favorite and the smile that came over his face filled my heart with so much joy, I couldn’t help but smile from the inside out. It made my heart sing to see him so excited and enjoying himself so much.

At the end of our trip Ethan proclaimed that the Buzz Lightyear ride was the best thing in the whole wide world, next to Thunder Mountain, The Speedway and the Carrousel (and who would have thought he would like the carrousel because back home I can’t really get him to ride in a shopping cart let alone anything that moves in a circle and up and down for less than 60 seconds.)

We spent ten wonderful days exploring the new adventures, getting bitten by various spiders and bugs and making memories that I hope Ethan will remember for years to come. But this month wasn’t filled with just a vacation, but two birthdays that were turning points for both Ethan and I.

This year I turned 34 and to be honest this birthday felt different. How might you ask? Well I don’t think I can fully explain without explain what up to this point my 30’s has meant me to be up to this point.

About two weeks before my 30’s birthday Christopher and I got the news that he had cancer – yeah happy birthday to me… We didn’t do anything on my birthday because Christopher had staples that covered the lower half of his stomach. But I saw this birthday as a transition to a new life – a new healthy life. One where we, together would fight this cancer.

On my 31^st birthday Christopher was becoming increasingly tired from the non-stop chemo and again my birthday somewhat went under the radar because I didn’t want him to feel bad that he was too tired to do anything. Then just a few short months later I became a widow. Again… yeah to the 30’s (insert largest sarcastic eye roll I can muster).

Turning 32 was hard for the simple reason of this was the same age that Christopher was when he was told he had cancer. I think I spent most of the day wondering how I would feel if someone told me that I had cancer – what would do, what would I think, how did Christopher do this? It made me admire him more and more for all that he went through.

Then there was last year’s birthday. 33. I was the same age as Christopher was when he passed. Looking at Ethan was really hard that day. To think that Christopher knew for a month that he was going to die. He was going to leave this little man that means so much to him. It was heart breaking and to say the least I tired to ignore that birthday to the best of my ability. I didn’t bring attention to it at work and for the most part tried to ignore Facebook the best I could. It was one of the most difficult birthdays I have ever had.

Then there was this year. I expected it to be hard. I expected it to hurt. I even prepared myself for the tears to flow most of the day. But what I got… Shocking. I woke up that morning, excited. Filled with anticipation for the day. This was a new day, yet more than just a new day. This was a new year. Where I expected the pain of living one more than Christopher – it was filled with nothing… No heavy burden on my shoulders; that weight was some how lifted. It was like I was living life through a new set of eyes. When people wished me a happy birthday – I smiled for the first time in four years. And you know what? It felt good to smile and be proud of being one year older.

Why this sudden transformation in the way I saw something as simple as turning a year older? Maybe it’s because I woke up and said I’m tired of the pain and hurt that cancer brought to me. Maybe it’s because I now see the beauty that being able to have that one more birthday means to me; to Ethan. Whatever the case maybe; I’m happy to have felt that feeling and I hope that 35 brings more!

This month was also Ethan’s birthday. My little muppet turned five. Five. Even as I type this I can see him the morning of his birthday when people would ask “and how old are you?” Ethan putting his hand as high in the air as he could reach and spreading his fingers as wide as his little hand could spread them without dislocating any digits and proclaiming that he was “five because his mommy took away his four!”

Watching Ethan so excited about his birthday made me feel good as a Mom and so sad at the same time. This birthday marks a time when Ethan as lived more time without his Dad than with his Dad. As a parent it breaks my heart. Yet as a single Mom, watching my child so happy at his birthday party – running and playing with other children and not even thinking twice about where his Mommy is; well lets just say it made me feel good.

It brought a peace to my heart that even in those moments where I want to throw my hands up in the air and say – I don’t know how to be a single parent, I don’t know how to answer than question of why daddy can’t come home, or why and how do I explain the new set of challenges that comes with being a single parent –it’s all worth it. It’s all worth the books I have read, the articles that others have written and my own personal discovery of the how the mind works when it comes to the loss of someone that filled your life with so much joy. Everything I have experienced has been worth it in one way or another.

So as you can see my month has been packed and full with allot and I’m just starting to get Ethan back on his routine and back in the groove before he and I face a whole new milestone. Kindergarten. (insert deer in headlight look of horror – then insert the thought of a pay raise from less money in daycare – ok so maybe kindergarten won’t be so bad after all… insert evil grin)

I will say I am very excited for Ethan to start Kindergarten, but will save that for another post. For those who follow (and who I haven’t lost over such a long post) I’ve started a Facebook page where I’ll try and update the things that Ethan and I are doing and also something new that I’ll be doing in the month of October. Lets just say that I hope it will go viral and I will have a flood of people who will participate in it. I’m working with a dear friend on it and I hope to announce it soon!

Milestones - An Introduction

2011-03-30T19:08:00.000-07:00

Allot of you have asked, suggested and some have even stated that I should write a book. Now let me say first off, I'm not a writer by any means. I'm the worlds worst speller and grammar and syntax are all but beaten within an inch of it's life in my hands. But what I do have is an amazing story about life, love, loss and trying to maintain and raise a child while I try and figure how to sort it all out. A story that most people sit in their homes and thank to God, the Universe or whatever they believe in that this is not their life; then there are those few. The ones that are going through it; some with an amazing support system and other just barely hanging on not really sure what to do or how to process their own emotional roller coaster begging to get off this ride life has put them on.

This book is and has always been for Ethan. It was never really meant to share with anyone else other than his eyes and mind. To help him understand that any feelings that he can't explain to me from the loss of his father are not ones that he feels alone, but that at some point were shared by me and how I handled it all. And as I wrote and poured my heart out our that little laptop that was once Christopher's I knew this story isn't just meant for the heart of the three it hold inside of it; but for anyone going through something as incredible as the loss of a loved one or relationship.

Christopher was an amazing man in that his story still to this day is shared. I watch as I explain to people what we went through and what I did to make the life for Ethan and I little better; how just a little fore thought goes a rather long way, their eyes glaze over and tears are sometimes shed. It's one that is a part of my life and has molded me into the person I am today. One that while I wish I never went through; I understand what this loss has brought to me as a person, a mother and a friend to those whom I reach out to going through their own ups and downs.

Below is the introduction of the book which I have titled "Milestones". It's written in a calendar type form that starts on October 12th with the passing of Christopher. It catalogs the feelings and emotions that I went through and the thoughts that ran rampant in my head that day. With 12 chapters and subsections going over the milestones of our lives, remembering his birthday, our wedding day, the day we met, the first time I had to lose someone I loved and Christopher wasn't there for me with open arms to help me through the sorrow. What it meant to us while also sorting out what it now means to me and Ethan. It's still a work in progress, but it's almost done and I will be putting up a section or so from time to time to share with you all. I hope you all enjoy it and here is the introduction to the book that has taken me over 6 months to write, but I think it's ready to show the world.....

Introduction

This is story about the strength that resides like a fire in ones gut and weakness that smothers and flickers at that flame. It is about love, fear, loathing and dare it even be said deep seeded hatred. This is journey to a place that some people never experience and while most of us will; this experience comes to those only when we are old, grey and for the most part collecting social security (if it’s even around then), playing bingo with our friends and knowing that our lives were filled 80% (or more) of the time with an immense sense of joy.

It’s a journey of life after the loss of someone that love held (and holds) so dear to our hearts that their physical loss on this mortal plane is like a twisting knife to our already battered and bruised hearts. However, while we travel down this path we are forced to remember those moments in our lives when that person was there to share them and bring our lives an overwhelming sense of joy and jubilation. And while we dance in those brief snippets of our memories we also remember how bittersweet it all seems now that our lives have been turned upside down.

I’m a widow. Yes I said it. (No shocker there right, this is a book about grief, morning and how I struggled through the idea of moving forward with a life that seems to stand still.) I became a widow at the age of 31 due to a disease that there is still yet no cure. All we can hope for is to fight this monstrous illness so that tumors can be found in time to give you a fighting chance against the cancer that rages in your body.

I lost my husband, Christopher, at the age of 33 to Stage IV Colon cancer with metastasis that covered 50% of his liver. We discovered this when he was 32 and just days before our son, Ethan (aka “Muppet”), turned 11 months old and our six year wedding anniversary. After a non-stop chemotherapy treatment that lasted 16 months, his liver gave out and Christopher lost his battle with cancer on October 12, 2008.

Shortly after his passing I did everything I thought I was suppose to do with this new found title of “widow”. I started going to a therapist and support group; to which I soon discovered that there were steps that I was going to have to take. Milestones, if you will, to make it through this rough and arduous path of grief, morning and finding how life moves forward without the one you love. These are my milestones laid out in a year. Each milestone took me on path of remembering the joy of what I had with this wonderful man I called “My Love” and why going through that day was so hard just because of what that day held for me in my heart. There are days of intermingled joy in what I accomplished and yet the sorrow of what each day now meant to me and what it used to mean for us. A journey of how we became two, from two to three and from three; then there was two.

This is my journey.

Don’t ever feel less than…

2011-03-02T21:01:00.000-08:00

This blog has always meant to be based around the idea of love, light and fighting my way through the situation life has given me. My last blog post got some eyebrow raises and also a standing ovation from friends who praised me for doing what I did.

However, it was hard to dig deep in my soul and make the choice to open the door to my own Pandora’s box for the world to see. But then again, this box needed to be opened to show that I stand my ground and that the line I have placed in the sand isn’t going anywhere.

Yes I “grew a pair”. But to explain how there are nights where I look at my little muppet and think that someone could not have his best interest at heart brings out things that make me not like myself. I don’t like the anger. The sadness and most of all the pain that it brings to my heart.

One day while in the car (on the way to grief therapy of all places) I was radio surfing and caught a line of a song that stuck into my head.

“Mistreated, Misplaced, Misunderstood,” radiated through my ears. Just those three little words got the creative juices flowing and I knew there was a blog post in there somewhere. See to understand how I think would take me days to explain; but let me say sometimes things come to me as simple as a line from a song. Music; what can I say, it’s my addiction. Lyrical poetry that speaks to my heart and seems to put the world in a state of zen when I need it to be.

I spent most of the week wondering what else was behind that song that I missed by having to turn my car off to make my appointment. Then one day while listening to the iTunes radio there it was. Clear as day and at a time of day that I wasn’t tuning the background noise out. It was wonderful. It was inspiring. It hit my soul with a fire that would send a bond fire up like a set of matchsticks.

And like any song that I relate to I had to find out about it – what did it mean, why did the artist write it, what are the lyrics to it. And reading those words just made me love everything about this song even more.

It made me think of all my ups and downs in life and how sometimes I feel mistreated, misplaced and sometimes possibly even misunderstood. But it’s life and we do the best we can at it. It can cause us to second guess what we know is right in our hearts and underestimate the power of our own feelings. But I took my fear and swallowed it whole. I’m not trying to ignore the situation that presented itself.

I will always remember a conversation I had with my dad who shared with me how he wanted things in his life and carrier and didn’t get them – but it didn’t mean that he was any less of a person. It just wasn’t meant to happen. But he made the choices he made to always better his life for his family. That conversation will always stay with me. Because it was my dad’s way of saying that I didn’t have to be President of the United States, he was happy with whatever I was as long as I was happy. And honestly knowing that and having those friends who sent me emails and commented on my blog about how they admired me and what I was doing – it was like a thousand pats on the back that I needed to know I did the right thing.

It’s like the song on the radio who’s words filled my soul with grace and a undefined tenacity; Pink’s F**king Perfect, “Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead. Everything is so complicated; look happy, you’ll make it. Pretty, Pretty please, don’t you ever ever feel like your less than f**king perfect. Because you are to me.”

This song, made me think of Ethan and the ups and downs he will have in his life. How he might find himself “mistreated, misplaced or possibly even misunderstood” with the situation we have been placed in. And it got me thinking that everyone in life should have that person that gives them those moments when they get that pat on the back. Everyone should feel like I did reading friends comments about something that was so hard and gut wrenching for me. And to bring some light back into this blog I want to let some people know some things…

To my late grandparents, you are perfect for the families you created and the love you shared and brought into their lives. Papa Agenlly I wish I could have known you and the graphic artist that you were. I think we would have had some amazing conversations. Grammy Agnelly you were perfect to me in all your short and sassy Italian ways; I know where part of that spitfire in me comes from. Papa Johansson you were perfect in how you cared about those around you and I know where I got a bit of my humor in life. Grams you’re perfect in the ways that you showed me what it meant to be a gentle and yet to be strong like any good southern woman.

To my parents you created two amazing kids who owe you the entire world. You taught us what the word resilient means and how we should never be ashamed of who we are. You showed us how to stand on our own two feet with courage and yet were always the one to give a helping hand when we fell flat on our own faces. I’m more than proud to have you as my mum and dad; you’re perfect to me.

For my brother who never stops amazing me. You were brave to make changes in your life and take steps that most would be afraid of and for that you are perfect to me.

To my friends, D, J (in BR), J (in Gtown) and M – you all are so perfect through my eyes. D you are perfect for working so hard to understand and engulf your self in love and working towards letting it fill you from the inside out. I know that you and T will be so “happily ever after”. J in Gtown your perfect for everything you have done for Ethan and I, thank you . J in BR you perfect in the way that you work so hard to find your sense of zen; one day at a time. M you are perfect in how you raise three kids and always keep a calm and collected head.

To my blog readers your perfect to me for following the ramblings of a stranger and giving me the motivation to know that I’m not the only one out there that sometimes needs to know I’m not alone.

To my other friends and family you all are also perfect to me. You’re out pouring of love amazes me daily and without you all I don’t know where I would be. Especially those of you who live in El Paso and Tennessee.

To my neighbors; you all are more than perfect to me. Without you all, there would be lost a major ingredient of Hope that I find here. I love you all so very very much.

And last but not least – My muppet you are so f**king perfect in my world. You are the collaboration of love and everything that is good in this world between your dad and I. You are perfect from those long eyelashes to your little monkey toes. You are such the perfect blend of compassion and stubborn headedness that even when I’m giving you the eye to correct you – know that I smile from the inside out with the joy that you bring into my life. You my muppet will and always be so perfect to me. So please don’t feel any less than that…

Go home and hug that certain someone who makes you feel like they are perfect to you and let them know it…

Paying It Forward While Trying To Moving Forward

2011-02-10T11:32:00.000-08:00

Life and the world we live in is made up of choices. Choices that mold us to who we are and how people see us. We are, in a way, a small bit of paper. Our choices create folds in our lives that in the end become the origami of who we are and how people view us.

Some people emerge from life a beautiful swan and yet we can still see where their choices that were made in life; while they may be poor, wise, what-you-had-to-do, whatever category our mind places them in, they have consequences on the art of our soul. We see the tattered edges a rough life has given them.

Then there are people that make no other choices, but for themselves. Their origami of life leaves them with no shape. They are no more than a wade of misguided choices that leaves them with nothing and yet no matter how hard they might try to start anew – the folds and creases are already there and viewer cannot see beyond the waded mass of nothingness that has engulfed their soul.

I often share some of the rawest parts of my soul. The deepest darkest folds of my soul that some would say I should keep to myself, but I can’t. I can’t because in all of this I have gotten emails and comments from people that they are so glad I write.

This digital dictionary of clips and phrases from my personal origami let them know they are not alone in the world. For it’s more than ok to feel those feelings that flood over them (and sometimes consume) or at the very least that they are not alone in their quest to understand why things happen to them and how can they find the light through all of it.

I’ve never candy-coated the way I’ve felt about things. My emotions through this journey have been that evadable chalkboard where I can see where things used to be, but I’ve worked through them and erased the hurt and pain, but you can still the words etched into the board from where they use to reside. Unless the board is washed – they remain there. I have no urge to wash this board that sits so peacefully in the corner of my soul where the emotions of the heart and mind intersect; it’s help me be who I am and who I try to work towards daily. It’s never a perfect journey, but one I take one day at a time.

However, with everything that I shared here, there still have been things I have not. Things that I have come to call “toxic”. Parts of the life that Christopher and I had together. That upon all the conversations we had before his death he wished, over and over, that I never have to deal with. But I have.

I never have shared these toxic moments and feelings with anyone through this blog for my own personal morals and scruples. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve danced around the fire and sometimes when I’ve been really upset I dart my hand in and out of the flame just to see if I get burned. But never have I just laid it all down.

Why? Well I’m a better person than those “toxic” people. I don’t want Ethan one day to happen across this blog and read in my own words the way I see a part of his and my life. What happens if by the time he reads it my feeling on this “toxic” situation changes – the internet is forever. I owe it to Ethan to keep something’s to myself… Till now.

I feel as though my hand has been forced and well, if this comes to bite me later – then so be it. I am personally tired of trying to heal from this toxicity only to feel a false sense of being ok; then have that feeling quickly replaced by the cold emotional sting of a steel pipe across my chest and the hurt and pain returns that I have worked so hard to try and move past.

Christopher’s life wasn’t perfect. He grew up on the “wrong side of the tracks”. The joys in Christopher’s life where always filled with equal amount sadness, regret, overwhelming happiness and underlining fear. As he moved into his twenty’s he feared of becoming the one person who let him down in life over and over again; his father.

Now before people start to fidget in their chairs that I’m about to let lose a ton of dirty little secrets for the world to read. I’m not. I’m a better person than this. However, I think some things need to be said.

Christopher lived a torn life. A life that some would say was filled with so much and yet no one (other than his Aunts and my family) knew the pain that consumed his heart. He always felt as though his father didn’t care about him or the well being of his family. It’s a harsh thing to think as an adult and even harder when you discover it in early adulthood. He often sat in bed with his headphones on listening to music to help him relax from the day. And there wasn’t a week that went by that I didn’t hear a certain song pumping through those little ear buds as loud as his laptop could play it.

He was so incredibly attached to Everclear’s “Father of Mine”. And one day he and I had a conversation, which was short and yet all so telepathic on the same level. I asked him why that song got more playtime than anything else (even though I knew the answer before he said it). His comment.

“It’s the one thing that I wish I could tell my dad and yet I can’t because even if I did it wouldn’t mean a thing to him.”

(These are the parts of the song that meant the most to him…)

Father of mine
Tell me where have you been?
You know I just closed my eyes
My whole world disappeared

Father of mine
Tell me where did you go?
Yeah, you had the world inside your hand
But you did not seem to know

Father of mine
Tell me what do you see?
When you look back at your wasted life
And you don't see me

Sometimes you would send me a birthday card
With a five dollar bill
I never understood you then
And I guess I never will

My daddy gave me a name
(Then he walked away)

Father of mine
Tell me how do you sleep?
With the children you abandoned

I will always be weird inside
I will always be lame
Now I'm a grown man
With a child of my own
And I swear, I'll never let her know
All the pain I have known

As a wife to one of the most amazing men that has walked upon this mortal plain, it hurt to see him hurt. It hurt to listen the lies his father would tell. How he would confess his “sins” only to revert back to his old ways.

I know the Bible says to always forgive. But as people of this earth, how many times can we forgive only to know that in the end we will be hurt again. This was the cycle that was Christopher and his father. He dad would call and fill the air with sounds of his breathe telling him that he “Found God” and how “he has seen the error of his ways and could he be forgiven.” Each time Christopher forgave him, because he was his father and Christopher believed in the good of all people. Then normally 6 months later he would get hurt again.

This pain was something he never wanted Ethan to feel. Pain that he promised to him upon the day his birth that he would never go though and would protect him from. This promise was something Christopher and I talked about before his passing.

I told him it was a promise that I was uncomfortable making because I knew it would lead to confrontation and I knew in my mental state of losing the one I love(d) that I couldn’t do. But you know; some people just make it easy. Too easy.

To say that I was put through hell in the time after Christopher’s passing and before his services was an understatement and we will just leave it at that. But trust when I say it was enough to understand how much of a buffer Christopher was. He not only protected our family, and me, but he truly took a bullet for us. And in the words of Forest Gump – “And that’s all I have to say about that.”

This pain was enough for friends and family to intervene and ask that Ethan and I be given space and time to heal. And for the most part – this was given. Then Christmas of 2009 I received a Christmas card from Christopher’s dad who wanted to reach out Ethan. The card was written passive aggressively and the rage and anger I had for that man built up inside of me once again. I was not going to let Ethan fall victim to him. I made a promise to my husband. I saw for the first time the pain that filled me was the pain of Christopher’s life that filled every crevice of my mind, body and spirit. I took on his burden and it hurt and I would do anything to protect Ethan from one tenth of an ounce of anything Christopher went through. I became that mama bear who would do anything to protect her cub.

I sat down and wrote his father a letter. A letter that explains the best way I knew how and why Christopher felt the way he did. It was short given all the reasons that I could have explained further. It was clear in thought of all the emotions that I was trying to set forth. And in the end I explained how it was Christopher’s wish to shelter his child from someone that caused him so much pain. However, I was willing when Ethan turned 18, he was welcome to look for him. But until then – I asked for no contact.

It was harsh and I am sure feelings of rage filled him and his family when it was read. But the truth hurts. And if he was filled with rage then those chats of “forgiveness” were in vain. For to understand forgiveness is to understand the pain we put those through that we ask it from.

This Christmas I got another card from him. The card again was written to Ethan (in his wife’s handwriting) and passive aggressively makes a stab at wanting forgiveness. It talked of already asking me for forgiveness and yet – to this day I have heard none, other than I won’t give it. You can’t give what hasn’t been asked for.

This card also contained a $50 gift card for me to buy something for Ethan with it. This card sat on my desk for almost a week. I was so unsure of what I should do. This man and his life are still so “toxic” to me. The origami of his soul is nothing more than a crumpled wade in my eyes.

After some thinking and praying on what should be done with this gift card; I knew what I had to do. Christmas Eve, my mother and I went out to run some last minute errands. While in a Starbucks getting drinks for those at the house I noticed this woman in red. I was drawn to her and yet as many times as I brushed it off as “she’s wearing read in a muted colored store” I observed her. I noticed her friend bought her coffee. I could not shake the feeling that I was being drawn to her. I noticed every line around her face. The way her eyes sat so gentle on her face. How perfect her hair curled out from under her hat.

The more I observed her; the more I was drawn to her. It was as if I had known her. While we waited for our drinks I told my mother I would be right back and walked up to her and her friend and explain how I knew they didn’t know me, but could a take a second of their time.

I pulled out this gift card and place it in her hand. I expressed how this card came into my life and that I didn’t need it, nor did I desire it. I asked that she take it and use it. The only thing that I had to ask was that if she didn’t want it or desire it to “pay it forward” to someone she might know who would need it.

I watched as her eyes glassed over as she fought back tears. She told me how she had lost her husband a few months ago and how this was the most beautiful gift she had been given. To say my heart swelled with joy is an under statement. I gave her a warm smile and told her “Pax” while I walked away. However, I walked away feeling seven feet taller and filled with an enormious sense of pride.

I took something that in my mind I saw as completely toxic and turned it into something beautiful for someone else. The beauty of something tragic and using what I learned from having a great man in life to bring joy into someone else’s life who might find this holiday season harder than most.

I will always be amazed how God took my simple prayers of finding strength in a situation that I sometimes feel pralized in and not only gave me strength; but how he brought someone into my life who needed the same thing. We were kindred spirits during a time of year where most are consumed with material items – we, those who have lost the ones we love, would give up our material positions just have a second glace at what we have lost.

I pray that woman was given the same strength I was that day and that the sun shined down a light brighter for her from that point on. As far as my “toxic” situation. I stand by my letter. If all he wants is forgiveness, he can have it, but the bible says no where that just because I forgive means that I have to subject me or my family to them. Mine and Ethan’s life filled with more love than I could hope to be blessed with that I don’t need the drama from those that might cause more pain.

The origami of my soul is still one that I work on; but the one thing I do know. While life itself might leave me tattered around the edges; life has shown me the beauty that resides within.

Hope

2010-12-16T08:22:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't blogged in a while and part of it is because of this post. It's one that I have been working on for some time and I think it's ready. I wanted to post this at a time when some might find this during a time of need and sometimes that time comes around the holidays.

One of the things I have pondered for quite some time is the concept of hope. We all talk about hope, some people dream about it and other wish for it. Hopwever, hope is one of those concepts that you can't really explain how it feels to you on the inside and when you are able to wrap your tongue around the words that fit into your little mold; it's a meaning that means different things to different people. It's a fourth dimensional concept that some people radiate through their lives and yet others look for it and find this little, simple, four letter word the most elusive thing that no matter how hard they try - it's just not there. Hope in a way doesn't work (or work out) for them.

When Christopher was first told of his cancer my dad and I sat down and he told me everything that he thought I needed to do, know and what they (my parents) were willing to do for us.

"Hope for the best. Plan for the worst," was his motto. It's an army motto. And well after serving several years in the army I wouldn't expect anything less from the "Colonel". But I did go to bed that night and think - how can one fathom to have hope if they plan for the worst. Isn't planning for the worst really giving up all hope? Is there another way to understand the meaning of hope? Is hope dropping to your knees praying every day for God to reach down and spare your family from something that you yourself don't quit understand? Or living it one day at time and just having a back up plan incase things go south?

Friends told me that Christopher had all the hope in the world and I all the faith. So did that mean that I wasn't hopeful? What did Christopher have that I didn't? Was my faith in God, not hope enough? I started to question the meaning of hope and how each person in my life had a different meaning of the word. I often wondered what it was that I was missing in something as simple as a definition. At one point, I even looked it up in the dictionary to see if there was something I quit possibly missed in translation as a child.

I often wondered, if as much as I blew smoke up skirt, that I was just plain and simple devoid of all hope. Or was that depression setting in and taking over my thoughts? Then Christopher passed away and I found it hard to fathom life moving forward. I knew it had to be done and in a way that required grace. No one could tell me how I should feel or what I wouldn't feel. I wasn't even sure what I felt my self. And after a few months my therapist ask me what I hoped for in life.

I paused, possibly even scratched my head and stared blankly at him. I think there might have even been the sound of chirping crickets heard in the room. I wanted to say, "What is hope and why should I even have it?" What came out was, "I'm not sure I understand the question." It was at that point that I realized that hope was something that I myself didn't really understand. The events of the past had clouded, even consumed, what hope meant for me. I was sad, numb, angry and yet in everything my "hope" was buried alive somewhere locked inside waiting to be discovered. Looking back at old blog post I read in my own words the "hope" that I described to my self and looking back on this version of my own digital-self, I could see where "hope" was a word in my vocabulary used as a good metaphor or adjective. Now, as anything with grief, everything is a process and somethings take time and somethings come to us when we least expect them.

The meaning of hope for me came over time and when I did least expect it. On the 2 year anniversary I took two days off from work to give time to myself to reflect on what that day meant for me. Losing the one I love(d) and becoming this new person that I didn't know I could be. Both days I went on a run and after each run I sat on my front side walk and I let my mind free of everything that might possibly cloud it and started to contemplate the day and the events of the last almost 4 years. This was the same sidewalk that Christopher and I would sit out on to talk. It was the same sidewalk that he and Ethan would wait for me to come home on. It was also the same side walk that Christopher ate a sundae on before he slipped into a sleep like comma. It was there that things started to fall into place and the doors in my head that had been locked under pain started to open.

Hope, for me, lives at the corner of Twin Falls and Pleasant Valley Lane. In a two story house built by two people who cared deeply for one another. With a sidewalk that could tell you stories about who had sat there and the conversation and tears discussed and shed there. A stoop where first steps were made by a bounce baby boy. A door bell who ring brought the joy of neighbors, aloof strangers and toxic conversations. A home who's walls have seen the photos of two, then three and then two again. Walls that if paid a pretty penny to talk would share the stories of a couple who loved, respected and dreamed of a life well into their 80's. A home who's yard spent many a night with two people staring up at the stars wondering how the view looked to the other.

Hope is a conglomeration of memories that I hold deep in my heart and reflect on daily. It is a house that I call home and a street that brought strangers together as neighbors and now friends. Hope is the peace I get when I sit out on that sidewalk and let the wind blow through my hair and listen to the sounds of my street fill my ears with joy. It's the sidewalk chalk drawings from the children that visit my home and the laughter that fills my house from great friends and family. Hope is where your heart finds peace in the understanding that everything happens for a reason (even if you don't fully understand it yourself).

As we enter into this holiday season, I pray that everyone who reads this blog has a place where they too can find their own hope when things seem grey. I place where they can be at peace with what ever tangle web the world has spun for them. A place of peace and tranquillity. Peace be with you all. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Pax.

This is Real. This is Me. Year 2.

2010-11-02T11:50:00.000-07:00

(Photo By Devine Memories (C)2010 Devine Memories - Check out her other great photos from the shoot that really express how I see where I am in this process of moving forward with my muppet by my side)

Last year I wrote about an event out by Christopher's grave and how that event in those brief moments allowed me to see where I came from and where I was hoping to go. I left the cemetery that day with a peace in my heart and thought only things could go up from here, right? I mean, I figured out how to make my self happy, I discovered what it felt like to listen to the silence in a different light and understood the pain of love lost - everything would just get better. That's the mathematical equation that I came to. Seems logical. Then came the holidays and I was hit with the biggest brick wall known to man.

I thought I could cruse right on through those mile stones that I already passed through and do it with all the flying colors of the freaking rainbow. I quickly learned that wasn't the case. What I did learn was how numb I was the first go round. Those moments when I longed for Christopher to hand me the gift he just thought was all so perfect or look at me with those loving eyes after spending hours in the kitchen planing a thanksgiving meal which meant I out did myself again weren't there. It's amazing how you can be surrounded by all the ones you love and yet feel completely lonely all at the same time. It's like two different people trying to fight for the same space that resides in one body. All the while, you want to be there to interact with those you love and yet you want to scream that this is all just so wrong. The one person you wish to be there isn't. It's in those moments that life seems less fair and brutal and you've been voted the punching bag.

Once the new year rolled around I thought to my self that I was going to take 2010 by the balls and slam it to the wall. I was going to rock this year and put it in my back pocket. I sat one night behind Christopher's laptop and opened a file that I had put on hold for a long time and I begin to type. Each night I typed a little longer and harder. I discovered in those moments that I had more work to do on myself. I saw the venom of anger striking through my fingers with each key stroke. Anger that I thought I had worked through and some that I didn't know I had. But anger non the less.

I discovered I was angry at the doctors for keeping me out of the loop on what I felt like should have been joint choices in Christopher's pain control. They took away three months of his life that I will never be able to get back from keeping him doped up. Truth be known, Christopher wasn't in pain, he had bad neuropathy and for whatever reason the doctors chose high level drugs that you would see on shows like A&E's "Intervention" instead of trying to help his symptoms of numbness in the bottoms of his feet. I felt like those doctors didn't view me as a wife or even a care giver. I was just the woman who paid the bills.

I know that in the world of medicine that doctors have to remove themselves and so I don't blame them for everything, but I do blame them for a lack of communication in the last three to six months of his life. Communication is key in everything. And while Christopher did come home and tell me that meds were being increased and why. It never made sense to me and I blame myself for not questioning harder and pushing more.

This and everything leading up to this was all part of a process that brought me to understand and accept the situation that has brought Ethan and I to where we are and it allowed healing on this aspect of my grief to also begin. One of the things I have learned about being a widow, someone who lost their great love and grieving for the loss of a relationship is you have to do what it takes to turn things around and make the situation work to your benefit. You have to have the courage to crawl inside your head and sit awhile while the world goes by. Even though it hurts to see the mental chalk board of why you react to the things you do and run from the things that might cause you more pain. You have to show the world the parts of you that you see as broken and love your self enough to allow them to be turned around and healed in the love you get back from your friends and family.

Yes, it's way easier to shut people out than to show the ones you love how the opening scene from Jaws was just the prelude to what you really feel on the side. And most of all, people will tell you are crazy, not your self and you might find friendships even lost. But it's who you are. You are still the same person just trying to figure out how to sort through this thing called grief. It's not pretty. There is nothing sensational about it. But it does get better. And the process never ends. It's on going. Time tells tales in the light we wish to see them in.

So where does this put me as I crossed over another full year? I went out to visit Christopher and while I was there I took a flower and walked down to the man graves who's widow I met over a year ago. I placed a flower on his marker and in those moments I took some time out to thank him for bring his wife to me on that day to help me understand a year later that it was in that moment when I met her that I was ok and that was the feeling I work towards feeling daily. It was a peace that allowed me to talk to her openly and so candidly about the grief that surrounded us both on that day.

I have worked through so much this year that I look back and hope that one day I remember all this so when the questions start to come from Ethan I can say with grace that sometimes we are left with no other choice than to say goodbye and take the pain that leaves our days engulfed in grey and harness the light within ourselves to make the sun rise again. It might not be as bright, but it radiates through us and those around us.

Ethan's Turn - A Letter to My Muppet

2010-10-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Muppet,

This week brought a close to another year without your dad. It's so hard to even wrap my head around the idea that he's been gone for two years. There are days it seems as if I am still waiting for the one year marker to cross across my calendar and others where I feel like he's been gone for years. I guess it's just depends on where my mind seems to rest on that day.

Ethan I wish could expound from my heart how this was not the life that your dad and I had planned for you. We wanted you to have the most wonderful childhood filled with a sense of wonderment and joy, and there are days that I feel as though I/we have failed you. As your mom, I want to fill your life with the most enriching things and yet as a single parent I find myself getting wrapped up in the schedule of life. Trying to find that balance of when I can push dinner off for 30 minutes so we can play trains or skipping the one extra bedtime story because it's too late. Sometimes that balance eats at my soul and I think you will be grown before I know it and that I have missed out on so much of your life because there was only one of me.

But it's in those moments when I check in on you at night and take in your loving little smile that seems to never leave your face or those tender little sighs that you are content in your wonderland of dreams - I admire you muppet. Yes, I your mother, not only proud of you, but admire you. In your short little life you have done more than most people could have done for me and your dad in the last four years.

You gave your dad motivation to fight his cancer with the vigor of a thousand armies and yet reminded him how gentle he was. You were buddies, friends, and he loved you Ethan more than any set of words I can lay down here. He lived life to the fullest because you brought the best out in him. You reached into his soul and helped his fire burn a little brighter and made his fight a little stronger. The photo you and your dad "bump'n" honestly expresses the relationship you two had and it makes my heart break that you now have spent more time without him than with him. But I also have faith that our loss is in a way set to mold you or both us for something later in life. God's plan if you will.

Ethan, my little bug, my muppet, you amaze me daily. Through your yearn for learning or how, in the strangest of ways, you do the little things that remind me that you are a collaboration of love from your dad and I. Looking at you at times brings me back to him and the way he made me laugh.

You are such a wonderful child Ethan. You are kind and gentle. Caring and loving. You are one of the most compassionate children I know - you don't like to see people hurt and your the first one to help them when they are. When I cry, I love the way you curl up in my lap and hold my face and tell me everything is "gonna be ok - ok." You are so much like your dad. Ethan you are a light that resides in my soul and continues to burn and grow with everything you do. You steal my heart and take my breathe away when you yell and yet whisper "I love you".

You're everything to my everything. It warms my heart to feel your little hand reach out for mine and give it a little squeeze when we walk across the school parking lot and I do everything in my power not to burst into tears of joy when we race to the car in the afternoon and you turn back to see who's winning with that laugh that resides in your belly. My heart sings when your voice echos my name and you gave me the purpose and drive when I needed it the most. You help me find my way back to sanity when I feel as though I have none and even when I don't know what to do when I get there I just enjoy sitting there in your wonderland of imagination and creativity.

Yesterday we went to the fair and seeing you break out of your shell and share with the world your personality almost brought me to tears. You rocked those pictures and they will mean more to me than any other photo that ordains my walls. They are you - the budding artist, avid musician, the free sprit that encompasses my life and the lives of those around us. People can't help but look into your loving little eyes and get lost in your little laugh and the faces that make every one smile from the inside out.

I love you muppet more than you will ever know and I will never stop reminding you how much you mean to me. I know as you get older it will be "un-cool" to hang with your mom or snuggle up in my lap. But I will always be there by your side, admiring how much you have grown and how much you're daddy would have been proud of you.

Love you always,

mum

October 12th - A Letter of Love

2010-10-13T11:33:00.000-07:00

To my dearest Love,

Yesterday completed yet another cycle to this situation of grief, life and learning. Two years ago phone calls were made, people were informed, and so began the deep stabbing pain that surround my heart. Life changed that day in so many ways. I sat staring off into space trying to figure out who would I turn to now to make my side-slightly-sarcastic peanut galley commentary to? Who would I call at the end of the day to say I was safe at home? How was the garage door going to sound now it wasn’t the sign that you were home?

All these things flooded my mind as if I stood face on and accepted whatever tsunami was coming towards me. This has been a path that I wish on no one and yet one that I think has taught me so much about life, love and the overall pursuit of happiness. I never took the little things in life for grated; however, I could never being to think about how much those little things meant to me and how in the months and years after your death I missed how those moments were erased from my life. There is something to be said about waking up in the morning and seeing the way the sun glided over your face and the peace that seemed endless in those moments before you would waked. Those were my favorites parts of my day.

Love, you know if I could, I would climb to the clouds and sit outside heaven’s door just to hear you breathing. In life I hung on every moment we had and treasured it. I spent most of this second year angry. Yes angry at doctors that gave you more pain medicine than I thought you needed, angry at cancer, your mom’s doctors for not ever explaining what it meant to have a parent with cancer, and down right furious at those in your life who filled it with pain. I thought I had moved past some of that anger, but yesterday on a run while I thought about during that exact time you were being taken away and I was confronted with people that were just purely toxic. However, in that same run, I left those demons out on the side of the road. They haven’t contacted me in almost a year and to be honest – I wouldn’t have it any other way.

While on my run I went down the trail we used to walk all the time and there among the trees was a little daisy. Just one. Blowing in the wind with all its bright yellow glory. It reminded me of the time you went out and bought my grandmother a Gerber daisy after hurricane Katrina. It was your way of trying to reach out to her and explain in your non-verbal way that even in great moments of tragedy there is also a choice to care and nurture the situation to being thus the beauty of life. She kept that flower living until she passed away. That little flower meant the world to her. And as I passed this little flower on my run I remembered the grace you had with life. It’s what helped me leave some of those demons out there. Yes I will have my moments when I let those shadows enter my mind and dwell long enough for a cup of tea, but trust me when I say I’m working on not inviting them back in.

One of the hardest parts about all of this was we were the greatest team. Yes we were strong people alone – but together we were unstoppable. And it’s taken me a long time to build my self-back up to the person I was. But then again I will never be that person I was. You can never go back when you have experienced something like this. You just have to accept that you’ve changed and pray that those changes are for the best.

Are those changes for the best? Well we will see. I’ve been writing like there is no tomorrow and all I can do is hope and pray that the words that flow across my computer will one day help Ethan in his understanding of what we had in life. And maybe it helps someone else who doesn’t have the love and support that I was given through our friends and family. But then again as you always say – “only time will tell”.

You’re story, your fight, your loving spirit will keep moving forward with Ethan and I. I even debated in a year or so becoming a volunteer consular for those people going through similar situations, but not just yet. I still have work to do to clear out my own mental hording of some things. But you move me to better my self and those around me.

Christopher, you are such a great man. Only a great man could move people years after death to want to better themselves and those around them. You amaze me daily; from the wonderful son we have and how smart and observant he is about the world around him to the little moments in my life when I can feel you standing next to me. You would be so proud of us both.

Love, I am so honored that we had so much time together even though it was cut short. I cherish those years more than you might have even known. You taught me so much about life and myself and while this not-so-new start has it momentary rough patches, I try to remember your love for everything to keep me focused. I know that you will no longer be able to catch me when I fall or keep me from falling, but your memory is what gives my feet the strength to stand up again and face this life with both eyes wide open.

You are the glimmer in my eye when I talk to people who need hope and the shadows on my wall when I myself need comfort. You amaze me love, thank you for everything.

I love you.

One Week From Today

2010-10-05T10:35:00.000-07:00

In seven days, I will cross a milestone that I thought I would never cross; for during that place in my life, time seemed to stand still. Next Tuesday is the two year anniversary of Christopher's passing. For the most part I am ready to cross this point in my life and yet I have days where I'm grinding my heals into pavement.

Time is one of those things that keeps moving forward wether we want it to or not. Blessing and a curse, if you will. I will admit that year two was harder in ways than to year one. Milestones that I seem to fly through in year one where due to to still being numb from the whole thing and those emotions were expounded on in year two when that numbness wasn't there. But besides all the working through all the emotions that come with another year passing of something so life changing I think I can say, "I'm ok".

Life is still moving forward. Ethan is getting bigger and starts school next fall and I am completely besides myself that all this happens and Christopher is not here is see it. But I also know that he's here in other ways looking down. I'd like to think that some of those "tears from heaven" on the day of the race was him showering down how proud he was.

I've learned allot about life, myself and the things that make me happy. Being a single parent isn't the greatest thing in the world, but I like to think that with each day it gets a little easier for both Ethan and I. I even scheduled Ethan's 4 year photos the day after Christopher's death day - something I don't think I would have done a year ago.

As time moves forward - so do Ethan and I and I'm proud of the strides we made this year.

A Therapeutic Run

2010-09-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

(This was on the back of the shirt I wore)

Friday night I couldn't sleep. I was for the most part anxious and scared. I was about to run 3-point-something miles the next morning and I was doing it for the grace and wonderment that I have for two beautiful people - Christopher and Ethan. I sat in bed at midnight thinking, "fall asleep, falllll aaaa sleeeeep," but I couldn't because my mind kept questioning if I was even ready for this, can I even do this? Yes, I've trained for a year, but on a treadmill, not the street - how different is it going to be? The treadmill kept my pace for me; I didn't have to regulate it on my own. Then some where in my own mental banter to myself I drifted unknowingly off to sleep.

I awoke at 6am to get ready and while I was making coffee I realized - it was raining. Damn it! I quickly grabbed my phone and checked twitter to see if the race was still on and it was - rain or shine. Again I began again my mental banter of if I could do this - was I going to crap out and end up stopping or walking some of it? I didn't want to, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to RUN this thing and do well at it. It was in those moments that everything began to fall together for what this run really meant for me. Yes the run was for memory of Christopher and for the future that still waits for Ethan, but for me it was (and ended up being) the most awe inspiring thing I think I have done in the last three and half years. And I needed it so much.

My neighbor Lauren ran it with me and to be honest I couldn't have asked for a better person to run with. She was there when I got the phone call and like so many of my other friends, family and neighbors she was there every step of the way through the last month of Christopher's life. She even came over and sat with me while I drank away my sorrows on the one month anniversary of Christopher's passing. She's one of those friends that lets you completely word vomit all over yourself and doesn't look at you any different. She just listens, smiles and lets you know that no matter how crazy life becomes or you think it's become, she's right there through the craziness with you. I could go on-and-on about this amazing woman, but lets just leave it at I was truly blessed to have her run this with me.

As we got to the race location the rain was letting up just a little and I started to think that this was going to turn out to be a very pretty day. First on my agenda was to find Jenny and tell her how incredible the turnout was; so we headed up to where the opening ceremonies were to be held. We got there just as it began to sprinkle again and it soon dawned on me that this rain just might not let up. As I stood in the rain getting completely wet my mind and memories were brought to the day Christopher and I said "I do". That day was so very similar to this one. Rain in the morning and just when we though it would let up in time for the wedding - it didn't. I remember the feeling of "great, I planned this oh-so-perfect-day and it freaking rains." Then at some point someone from somewhere said, "It's raining, like tears from heaven".

In those moments where I found myself lost in my memories I drifted back to Christopher's mom and the battle she lost with cancer. My grandfather who passed away just two months before our wedding. Christopher who almost two years ago left this mortal plain and my grandmother who passed just ten days after him. It was all so overwhelming to think that this rain, these tears that fall from heaven, made me feel as though they were all by my side. I did what I could to choke back my feelings.

Jenny took the stage and one of the first things she said was, "Kids are having Chemo today, this, it's just rain..." And as if gears in my head started to fall into place to yet another meaning for this race. I DON'T know what it is like to go through chemotherapy; I've always lived on the other side of cancer. The care giver/supporting side of cancer. And as much as I have gone through, Christopher had the worst part. To wake up every morning with a war waging in your body and all you can do is try and mentally fight it. To live in a body that when you want to go outside and play with your child; yet five minutes is all you can do because all your energy is drained. To know that you are going to die and leave behind the ones you love to keep going, to keep on living, even though as hard as you tried you can't be there for them. Or to be the son that never really knows his dad other than photos and stories - to never witness first hand how great your dad really was. With all of this - I don't know what it feels like and I'm sure it's worse than just what I have gone through.

We lined up and geared up for the race. Every second that went by I became unsure of what I was about to do. The horn went off and we started. Lauren was quick to give me pointers, "break from the pack, run to the side, try to get ahead of the walkers and jogging strollers". Then when we did break from the pack, "find your pace, you're doing great." And I felt good, I wasn't tired, the blood was pumping, the iPod was rocking out to "Back in the Saddle" and low and behold the rain had stopped. Before I new it the next song on my iPod played - "Stronger" and I thought to my self can this get any better! Then my iPod froze. It just stopped playing. Two songs in and not even a mile later, I had no music to zone out to, no mental motivation, "oh crap" was the first thought in my head. I had over two miles to go and no music to listen to.

But you know it was good that I didn't have my music. It was in that time that I talked to God, Christopher, and even my self. I told myself over and over; "God is at back, Christopher is by my side and Ethan is in my heart." I told Christopher how proud I was of him for going through chemo and always doing it with a smile. For walking up and down our stairs to check on Ethan when he didn't have to and when I knew he was completely drained. I expressed my feelings and love for him in a way that only I can with my words to him. My conversation with God was one that had less sarcasm than it's had before, I expressed my feelings of feeling dismantled and yet repaired by him. I thanked him for giving me strength when I thought I had none and grace when I thought I was foundering. All great talks and ones that I will carry in my heart for a very long time.

Before I knew it Lauren had finished and had doubled back to see where I was and I be honest I think I only had a half or quarter mile left to go at this point. She forced me to step it up and keep moving - she was such a great motivator. As soon as I realized that I was so close to the end I stared to get choked up. My feelings were bursting out at the seems and I thought for a moment that I wasn't going to be able to finish because I wasn't sure if I could run and cry at the same time.

Then out of the blue Lauren yelled something and the crowed started cheering and got 100 times louder than before. I took all those feelings that wanted to bust out and I let them out in a sprint to the finish line. I ran 3-point-something miles in 40 mins. That was 5 minutes off of what I had trained for. And to see my friends there cheering me on meant the world to me. And I could feel Christopher there, standing next to me and as if he whispered in my ear "that's my girl."

This day couldn't have been more perfect in so many ways. I'm so blessed to have those people and others in my life. I can't wait to run this again next year!

(from left to right: Lauren, Me and my friend "D")

The Run

2010-09-16T18:47:00.000-07:00

One of the things I learned from Christopher was to never give up in anything; hell be damned. About a year ago I made the choice to run a 5k in Christopher's memory. The idea of doing something that takes time and training and putting in effort to finish something so amazing is something I had to do for myself; however the flu that year had other thoughts.

So I made the choice to keep training and keep running. One to stay and get in better shape because after dropping around 40 lbs after Christopher's passing I started to feel good about myself and my own health. So I trained with a trainer twice a week and let me tell you he put me through my paces.

Then one day while celebrating a friends new start to her life I met a woman. An amazing woman. Someone who I sat in awe of. She had lost her child to cancer at a very young age. Now I didn't know this woman other than a comment she left on my blog one day and that she was a good friend of my friend, but yet as I talked to her I felt a connection.

I can't remember everything we talked about; but what I do remember is thinking that no matter what I accomplish in this lifetime will never compare to what this woman had done. She took grief and tragic moment in her life and turned it into something wonderful and so very close to my heart. This wonderful woman made it to my list of people that I admire and look at with such open eyes at the awe she puts me in.

Her name is Jenny and she the co-founder of Heroes for Children. Her daughter Allie passed away September 13, 2004 from Acute Myeloid Leukemia at the tender age of 8 months 27 days. Allie and her family went through three rounds of chemotherapy, 80 blood transfusions, and a stem cell transplant and after after all of this her mother took her grief and channeled it into something so beautiful. Heroes for Children was created to help families dealing and coping with childhood cancers. Now while Christopher didn't pass away from a childhood cancer, cancer runs in our family. Ethan has lost his grandmother (Christopher's Mom) and his dad from cancer; which raises Ethan's odds, for me, in the "not so comfortable zones".

I left that evening in a sense of awe of this wonderful woman. I started following her on twitter only to find my self more in awe of what she does and how she manages to reach out to families and while she still carries around a part of grief; it is those volumes of emotions that keeps her moving forward. Which, to be honest is all we, as those who have lost ones we love, can do - move forward.

Every year they have a 5k run and after meeting Jenny and hearing about little Allie; I went home kissed my muppet (Ethan) and told myself I knew what run I wanted to honor Christopher with. This one.

So in less than a week I will dawn my running shoes, strap on my iPod filled with songs that I found on Christopher's little computer and take my place with other runners as we run to support those families dealing with childhood cancers. But my run for me will be very therapeutic as I will be for three people. I will run first and for most for the memory of Christopher and his fight to never give up no matter what it takes. How he keep moving forward even I am sure their times he wanted to stop - but he never did. Second, I run for my muppet. I run to show him that there are times in our lives that we must push ourselves only if it means to better ourselves. And lastly I run for this sweet little Allie who without her fight (and others) might this organization never have been formed.

I ask those of you who read this blog to check out the Heroes for Children website and if you can make a donation to this wonderful cause on my fundraising page.

To Everything There is a Season, a Reason

2010-07-20T12:16:00.000-07:00

This is something that has been rolling around in my head for a little while and I thought it so moving that it needed to be shared. Christopher was an amazing man, it's no lie, I talk about it all the time. But something happened that made me feel as if he was still here showing me how great he was all over again. To explain and share this story I need to provide a little back story that took place over 9 years ago.

On May 26, 2001, Christopher and I were wed. For us it was a day of celebration, stolen glances with half cocked grins from across the room and small breathy whispers of "love you..." That day was one of the greatest moments of my life shared with friends and family from all over. A day that all we ever wanted was for people to share in the joy we had for each other; a day of pure blissful joy.

Shortly after we came back from our honeymoon we had gotten news that Christopher's cousin who was to be wed later that year broke off her engagement. Christopher and I were both shocked. While we didn't know the man she was to marry; we both looked forward to their wedding. During this time we found out the reason that the engagement was broken off. It was, well, sorta, in a nut shell, because of us. On the way back from our wedding she told her mom that as she looked out on dance floor at us dancing around, laugh, being us - in love, that she didn't feel as though she didn't have that with her soon-to-be-hubby. So the wedding was off....

I remember sitting in our apartment talking about this sudden turn of events. I remember it as though I pulled our conversation from my own memories and read it over and over like it's one of my favorite paperback novels. I explained to Christopher how I felt so bad. I didn't want for us to be the reason someone didn't get married. And in only Christopher fashion, he rubbed the nap of my neck with his thumb and said, "How do you feel when I do that?"

"I get warm and fuzzy..." I replied as I nested my head into his shoulder. He went on to explain that his cousin deserved to feel those warm and fuzzes too. That some times things happen for reasons we don't understand; but in the end it's always for the better. And well he was right. A few years later his cousin married a wonderful man that completes her and yes, gives her all the warm and fuzzy feelings one should feel when they are in a loving relationship. I couldn't be happier for her and her hubby; it warms my heart from the inside out that they found each other.

Shortly before Christopher passed away, he made it known that his wishes were to give our dinning room set (which was his mom's) and the dishes that went with it to his cousin as a wedding present. I agreed, because I knew how close she was to Christopher's mom and how much it would mean for her to have this wonderful gift. So after Christopher passed away; his aunt and cousin came and took the set. It was one of the most bittersweet moments; to share at the same time the joy I felt in sharing such a wonderful gift and sadness of having something so Christopher leave our house.

A few months later I found a random box of dishes that went to the set and I put them out to ship. Months went by and the dishes got moved around the house from place to place just waiting for me to box them up. Then one day, I said enough! Enough time has passed that I told this poor girl I would ship the dishes. So one night I boxed up these little bowls; my first shipment. The next day my little package went out.... And well... I got this message from Christopher's cousin just a few days later:

I got the package last night and I cried. Thank you so much...I had been thinking about my aunt and Chris lately and its a long story but I want to share a bit with you. My hubby and I have been looking for a home and every home we have looked at hadn't felt right for multiple reasons. One major reason is that I couldn't imagine my aunts furniture in any of the homes until yesterday. I actually cried when we left the house because it felt right. Then we went to my moms, a mysterious package was there for me and it was the bowls. I took it as a sign so we will be putting an offer in this weekend!
Thank you for taking the time and money to send me the dishes. It means a lot!

I cried as this message went across my phone. Christopher had done it again and in only a way he could. It was as if he was rubbing the nap of my neck telling me that she deserves to be happy and if we helped out, then so be it...

I married a wonder man. A man that saw the world in a way that only a select few can, through a set of gentle eyes that gave life and beauty to everything around him. He's still helping those around him even though he's gone. Geeze I love that man....

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven
- The Byrds

Happy Birthday to My Muppet

2010-06-29T10:59:00.000-07:00

Today my sweet little boy you came into this world just a little before 10pm. I never thought I could feel the boundless sense of joy that you brought into mine and your daddy's world with just a blink of your eyes. You have done so much growing up over these past four years; to sit down and explain them all to you would take me days, for I would want to explain them in only the way I know how. Through my words of feelings that come from my heart and expounded on by my soul.

Today marks a not-so-magical day of when you life will begin to pass with more days with out your dad than days you got to spend with him. It's not fair my Muppet that I got to spend so much time with him and you didn't. It's unfavorable that people who spent more time with your dad than any of us never really got to see him as who he really was; a wonderful, gentle and caring man. I cannot make promises to you that this life God has put in front of us will get better; that the balances of fate will swing in our direction. I won't always be able to give you what your heart desires, but what I can do is make sure your heart is filled with immeasurable love from me and those that love you. And that gift is greater than any toy or material thing money can buy.

I can promise you that there won't be a second, nothing more than a blink of an eye, that will go by and you won't know that I am proud of you. Those words will flow off my lips as easily as "Ciao Bella" does for you. You only need to look in my eyes to see all the love I hold in there for you. The world is filled with endless possibilities for you and to be honest as your mom, yes I have my own set of dreams and hopes for you, but none as strong as the hope that you keep that wonderful little laugh. That little laugh that is purely intoxicating. It comes from your soul and radiates effortlessly to those around you. One can't help but feel the creation of a warm smile come over their face with that your wonderful sense of joy in what life has to offer you.

Ethan, my Muppet, my joy, you fill my life with such a glow I can't help but thank your daddy for helping in creating such a wonderful little man. You truly made some of my rougher days easier with everything there is about you. From the care and warmth in your eyes, to the wit in your belly and the sarcasm in your brow, you see the world in a technicolor dreamscape that some of us can only imagine what it's like to see the world the way you do. You have a zest for music, a wildly creative imagination and most of all such a giving heart. I could sit here and plead that you don't lose sight of any of that; but I don't have too. I know you won't. You my son are a very free spirit; something you get from both your parents, and with that I know you will always find comfort in anything you do, joy in anything your heart takes you and peace in knowing you do the things you do for you and not for the world that sits quietly around you.

I love you Muppet. Happy 4th birthday.

Mommy

How Do You Explain...

2010-06-23T08:33:00.000-07:00

Several months ago while making dinner and Ethan sitting joyfully at our kitchen island coloring to his little heart's content he turned to me and said, "hey mommy?"

"Yes Muppet?" I replied without even thinking of might come from his mouth neither less his head.

"Can I have a brother? I want a brother." bounced quickly from his mouth and a second later I dropped whatever it was that I had in my hand. My mind raced with "how in hell am I suppose to answer this" and "how do I explain to a child who is barely three that his chances for a little brother or sister were slim and none."

Don't get me wrong, one of the things that I hold in my heart and hope for is to have more children of my own. However, several factors are not on my side. Age being one of them. So to be honest I recently let the hold I had on that hope loosen after a talk with my own mum. It was hard to let go of this hope because it meant that the life that I had always planed and dreamed of wasn't the plan that God, The Universe (whatever it is you believe in) had in store for me. And that was heart breaking. It made me wish that I could go back in time and remember what it was like to feel Ethan move around in belly, to remember that joy that came with knowing that I was carrying around a wonderful little gift.

But that's life; you can't go backwards, and sometimes my memories seem so far away from me that it's hard to pull them forward in my mind to swim around and revel in. So I sat there thinking about all of this, I was brought back to reality with a simple, "Mommy can we go to the store and get a brother?"

"Huh? What?" If only it was that easy to run to the local Target, Walmart or Kroger and go to the sibling aisle and just pick one off the shelf. I tried my best that night to explain that life wasn't that easy and not everything we want comes from Costco or the store.

I stared into those big brown eyes of my muppet and tried to see if I was getting my point across and what I saw were tears that filled up both our eyes. Ethan's understanding that he can't have a brother or sister and mine in aspect that the one part of my life that I had always hoped for from when I was young would become the one dream I will never get to have. The thoughts that there are people in the world that with the drop of a hat are blessed with 3, 4 sometimes even more children and those small lives where never in their plans and dreams and yet they had them.

I tried to explain that there are people in our lives who are not family by relations, but over time become our family due to the relationship we have with them. But to have someone so small understand this was something that I should have known he wouldn't understand. It broke my heart as if a spade was thrust into my heart and tip broken off. Later that night I cried and prayed that Ethan be given the understanding of everything I had explained to him.

Those prayers have not yet been answered and Ethan's question for a sibling came to me daily for almost a month after that. Then he went down to once a week and up until two weeks ago he hadn't brought it up for almost two months. Then while driving in the car I got the, "Hey Mommy?..."

And on the way to school this morning he explained to me in great detail how this friend had a brother and then there was this other friend of his that has a brother; so "mommy, you just not looking in the right place." I felt as if someone reached in, grabbed my heart and while pulling it out; yanked a little bit of my soul out with it. The idea of explaining to someone so tiny that his wish that he dreams about might not come true and he just has to understand that the life we were given doesn't even start out in his favor is gut wrenching.

I have to say I'm getting better about explaining it. But it just doesn't make it any easier....

My Perception of Me, Myself & I

2010-06-14T20:05:00.000-07:00

Shortly after I turned 29 one of the most wonderful things happened to me; Ethan was brought into this world. I remember even after twelve hours of labor and two hours of pushing; I sat in my hospital room thinking this was the one of the most euphoric moments in my life (and no it wasn’t from the drugs the hospital gave me). While holding something so tiny I pondered how great this life was that I was living. I had a loving and wonderful husband that with just the way he looked at me was enough to melt my heart, then there was this little boy that made me feel as though I glowed from the inside out, and all I could think about was – if this is what it’s like to be 29, how great will my 30’s be.

I guess maybe I opened my mouth (or mind I should say) too soon or proved that was some validity behind the statement “watch what you (don’t) wish for” than one would have thought. Shortly before my 30’th birthday, I was greeted with the words, “It’s cancer.” Then spent my birthday caring for a strong man who could barely get around the house because he just had 8” of his insides removed. I honestly spent the week of my birthday wishing that this was all a dream and I would wake up to find that the world had gone back to the techno-color dreaminess I was used to. But it didn’t.

On my 31^st birthday Christopher and I traveled back from Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Tulsa with word that his doctors were doing everything they could and we left there feeling good about everything. I remember vividly sitting outside of doctor’s offices waiting for Christopher to get his tests. This little white computer in my lap and my fingers feverishly typing away everything that we knew on the blog for our friends and family back home who were constantly clicking “refresh” in the hopes that this trip might lead us to something that just might be a breakthrough. It was just a few months after that that I got the phone call that changed everything and the realization that I would became a widow and that I had barely lived three decades.

My first birthday with Christopher gone, I turned the same age that he was when we found out he had cancer. To say that my mind raced as I tried to put myself in his shoes; how I could handle news like that? And well lets just say that a new found respect was found in the deepest inner most parts of my soul for Christopher and the brave face he put on daily.

This year (Tuesday to be exact), if you do the math, I will turn the same age that Christopher was when he passed away. To say that I have spent allot of time thinking about allot of different things would be an oversimplification of what has really been bouncing around in that head of mine. To be honest, I don’t think there has been a time when I have allowed my mind to rest long enough to even fully get to REM sleep. I have thought long and hard about whom I am, what I want in life, what this life wants from me and how can I do all of it while keeping a smile on face.

In this process of trying to mentally work out everything in my head that has rolled around in there for the last three years I have come to understand and contemplate the statement of “Me, Myself & I”. Some might say this is a very narcissistic thing to say, but let me explain how I came to this statement or at the very least my perception of this statement.

Lets start with “Me”. I define “me” as the “d” before word of the cancer. The happy-go-lucky woman who saw all beauty in this world through the rose colored glasses of pure bliss. The woman who thought that all situations turn out for the better; even if it didn’t go the way I expected them to go. I was the person who would spend hours listening to her friends’ problems and issues and just hoped and prayed that I could give them advice that found them comfort. I was overly self confident in everything that I did. The world was my oyster and no one could take it away.

Then came the word of cancer and so did the next phase of who I became; “Myself”. Why do I call it this? Well for almost the opposite reason one would think. Most people would think that with news like your loved one has cancer they would turn to themselves on the inside and start to debate what does this mean for them, their family. Me on the other hand; well I was a little different. I started to think about how could I make life easier on Christopher, what could I do for Ethan to help him understand why his dad had tubes running into him every two weeks. Myself was the last person I thought of. I let myself go because I put the needs of others in my family above completely myself. I never really did my hair, make-up in the morning was always a last minute thing and the only reason I put it on was for work and even then it was haphazard.

One of my most profound thoughts when I found out Christopher was going to die was, “What do I do now?” I spent the last 18 months taking care of everything and if I didn’t have Christopher to take care of; then, well, what do I do? When there is no one to call in the mornings to make sure they are awake and out the door for work or doctor appointments, or to make sure that meds where taken in the right order and times, what do I do with those random minutes in the day? Where do I focus that energy?

That’s when I started to discover, “I”; the phase life that I am in now. It’s the balance of everything that fell between “me” and “myself”. It’s the “d” that is starting to feel like life is her oyster again and yet I am still focused on taking care of a little man that was brought into my life almost four years ago. I try to spend an hour, at the least, a week to try and read up on new cancer treatments. I follow what the government passes and not passes in the fight against cancer with insurance companies. I plan all Ethan’s meals with the mindset that I am being proactive in his diet (being that there is a link to colon cancer and a diet high in fat). But most of all, I’m also doing things for me that make me happy.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times during this transition that I would think I have all this sorted out in my mind’s little cubbies and my feet completely planted firmly in how I feel about everything this life has brought to me and Ethan. Then there is always something that seems to shove with the greatest of force to knock me off balance. But I have always found a way to pick myself up off the ground, dust off my soul, raise an eyebrow and get a little tougher skin against the happenstance of life’s occurrences.

The way I look at life and the hopes and dreams that I hold in my heart is what makes the rain fall a little lighter upon my head. The words and feelings that are expressed here sometimes change the way people look at the world and that warms my heart that the loss of a great man wasn’t in vein. This world that I entered into on an October morning is and will always be new to me no matter how much time has passed, I will always feel as though there is a long way to go and sometimes I might even feel as though everything is just a false start.

There will be times that I feel that everything is over my head, but I will do more than my best not to show the world that those moments seem to over take what it means to be me. I was meant for this path, journey, for something – it has a reason and I just have to let this path lead me. I will always try to go where life takes me even when there are days that I want to stand in my tracks and run in the opposing direction with all the speed that my legs will take me.

Yes even now after all this time, there will still be days that are lonely, crazy, sad and filled with anxiety, but this is all just a matter of my perception. My grief is emblematic of the deep love that I hold in my heart not only for a great man but the path that it has taken to get here. As long as I am real and true to my self, love will always fill my heart no matter who is and isn’t in my life because in the end I know that this three year path of self-discovery has lead me to become a better person, a better friend, and has put me on a path that I fully embrace. I am truly blessed to know, understand and accept everything there is to know about “Me, Myself & I”.

My First Question Answered

2010-06-03T18:46:00.000-07:00

I'm happy to say I got my first question and like I said in the post before all questions will be answered with honesty and no sugar-coating. So here we go...

Question:

Why do you want to keep writing about Christopher... I know he's inseparable part of you but isn't it the time to let him go... Doesn't he stop you from looking forward to much more that is there to life?

Answer:

To be honest I'm really happy this was my first question for several reasons, one being that this is a topic that crosses my mind daily and there really isn't an empty part of my thoughts that I don't ponder, "will I ever stop writing about Christopher?"

I knew there would be some non-magical time when the posts that talked about Christopher would become less and less and would be replaced with tales about the strides in mine and Ethan's life. I figured my posts would slowly change to be about the trails and tribulations of single parenthood. Maybe one day I might even write about, dare I say, how it feels to possibly love someone else? Or at the very least my own mental struggles of trying to love someone else and the struggles of trying to fit everyone in my heart equally.

The day I started writing again after Christopher passed away I thought I would only write for a month or two. I figured people would get bored of a 30 something woman who rambles on about the loss of her husband. Then one day my grief therapist asked me if I had ever journaled? I think I let out a little sigh and said, "I have this blog. Sorta. Not really." In my mind I had already shut down the blog; no more post ever to be written (unless some family member contacted me to see how Ethan and I were doing). Then my therapist suggested that I keep writing, not for my family, but for myself and most of all Ethan. In a way to channel all my thoughts and feelings to paper so that one day I could share them with Ethan.

One of the topics that runs rampant through my mind (and soul) is how do I balance Christopher in Ethan's life. Ethan knows that Christopher is gone, he's not shy about telling people all the time that "his daddy is in heaven" or "with the flowers". He visually knows Christopher by photos as well; often times walking up to photos in the house, pointing with vigor and declaring that "this is daddy and that is mommy". But to be honest with myself, this is all he will ever remember of Christopher. I can hope and pray till the prayer beads have nothing left to them that Ethan will remember more than just two second visual snip-its of his dad's life; but I would almost be praying for a lost cause knowing that Ethan was just a hair over two when Christopher left this mortal plain.

So I have had to make some rather tough choices over these past 20 months; ones that keep my mind restless in thought almost 24/7. When do I talk about Christopher, how do I talk about him with Ethan and what is ok to share and not share and when should this sharing happen? One of the things that was very clear to me from the beginning was that Ethan and I would be on opposing ends of the grief scale slowly moving towards each other and at some point (later in life), our paths in this journey would cross. There would come a time in Ethan's life when he doesn't understand why his dad is gone. This would be crossed with a time and place where I would have dealt with my own grief and could take all the time this world had to offer us to go through all of Ethan's questions, un-understandings and fears and work through them one by one. I could be the strong parent Ethan would need during this time and more importantly I would be in a place to sympathize with his emotions clearly, yet calmly all the while showing him the love and support he would need to work through what it was he was feeling.

So I tried, the best I could, to document my feelings and my own mental revelations if you will for him to read one day. All at his own pace and when he was ready. But I also wanted an underlining theme to what he read; I wanted him to see that his dad is with us all the time. My hopes were that these random posts would be read and Ethan would gain the hidden meaning that Christopher's memory is carried around in our hearts, the glimmer of our eyes and never really forgotten. I've always wanted Ethan to know not only who his dad was through photos but who was as a man, husband and father in my own words as the woman who was touched by his gentle nature, his caring heart and loving support. I wanted Ethan to understand what a great man his dad was and how he wanted the world for the both of us and yet even though he's not with us physically; he still betters our lives through how he effects our heart. To learn how to take that fire that always resided in Christopher's heart to better himself and learn how to harness it so that we can continuously challenge ourselves to reach out to those around us and to become better people for those around us who need it more.

So in a nut shell after all of that, I continue to write about Christopher for Ethan. I write so that one day when he starts to question everything around him (which I'm sure he will) I can show him that he's wasn't the only one that went through the questions, doubts and fears, but that I had the memory of a great man to fall back on when I felt really lost.

Will this cause me to struggle as I try to move forward in life? Yes it will; I won't lie. I'm pretty sure of it. I know that I will have a tight wire act to practice where I try find a balance in trying to keep Christopher's memory alive for Ethan and yet be able to focus on any new possible relationships that might come my way. I know that all relationships are different and while I might find someone that shares the same spirit for life that Christopher did; this person will be different and learning to accept those differences is one that I try to mentally prepare myself for. But then again, that's the beauty of this life, as people we continue to grow and learn more about ourselves and that inspires me to continue to try and move forward.

To My Blog Reader Who Lost His Brother

2010-05-31T18:45:00.000-07:00

Today while answering my first blog question I got a comment post from a blog reader who lost his brother on this very day to suicide. While reading it my heart went out him. The guilt that he held in his heart and yet the feeling of "what if" that ran through his post was such that I needed to reach out to him. So I have put answering my first question on hold for this post; for my reader.

My dear friend,

I wish I could say that your situation isn't one that I have been through; and honestly I personally haven't, but Christopher had and with that I saw what he went through. Christopher lost two cousins to suicide only just a few years apart from one another. I remember each day when he got the call and how he just sat there staring off into space while he tried to wrap his head around the news he had just heard. He was in shock and you could see that proverbial train of thought run off it's tracks as the tears flowed down his face.

I remember one day I asked him if he was ok and in good ole Christopher fashion he took every volatile emotion that he was feeling that might bring his happy world down - wrapped it up as tight as he could and swallowed it whole. What followed that was a straight faced look and then he would tell me he was "ok." But I knew better and I knew that was his way of saying he needed more time and space to completely understand what had just happened.

You are going to go through bouts of "what ifs and yeah that's it".

"What if I had just called more? Yeah, had I called more - things would be different."

"What if I had just reach out during those years? Yeah, had I just took his hand and guided him a little more this wouldn't have happened."

"What if I had just sat my dad and my brother down and did some sort of personal family intervention? Yeah, had I done that-we would all be in a very different place."

But you can't keep your self in that frame of mind. Grief is a process and one where all steps need to be taken. There will be steps that you seem to fly through and yet fall on frequently and that's ok. For me it was anger. I would go through denial and then get angry that I allowed my self to go there. I would have fits of sadness only to get angry with myself for being sad that Christopher was in a place of light and love and no longer pain. Then came acceptance; followed by the anger of how could I accept such a tragic point in my life. But the important part was I went through all the steps. You're feelings right now are, for the most part, a state of shock. The idea that time will move on and your brother won't be there to share them would be a shock to any one's system.

But you are right, you have a wife and children and they will be there for you. They will be there to show you how to break the sun into a million little pieces so that you can see the light in the darkness of this forest of grief. Don't be surprised if your dad goes through his own grief in a different way. Grief brings out guilt in people that they never thought they had. And please remember this my dear friend, your dad might go through this. He might see the error of ways he never thought at the time were wrong and maybe he just might turn to you for acceptance in his sorrow and maybe this turn takes years for him to get to. This is where his healing will begin and you must try to be there for him no matter how much time might pass between the two of you. You might have to help him go through the process of his own understanding that yes, while actions of the past might have been a contributing factor and might not, but it is important that he can look back and forgive himself for anything he might hold in his heart that would keep it from healing.

Parents are hard on their kids and some parents aren't hard enough. That's how it is when we become parents. Just remember that your dad never loved your brother any different or less; he just maybe didn't know how to always show it. Everything in life can be a lesson and one that we can debate over and over or one that changes us profoundly. Sometimes during our grief we come to the most profound reasoning and understandings. I'm sure you will encounter the same thing; it will all be when time and your mind rest long enough to allow you ponder these thoughts.

I won't lie my dear reader; this is going to be a rough and rocky path. One that only with time will the wound on your heart start to heal and it may take months and years to fully heal. There maybe times when you think you have complete control of your life and the emotions that you hold on the inside, then something as simple as someone telling you "hi" or hearing a song on the radio will break you down into tiny little bits of broken glass and trying to put your self back together will hurt as you will find those little nicks take longer to heal; but they will.

The cruel and yet beautiful thing about all of this is life still moves forward. Your kids will continue to grow and you need to use that give you the strength you need to moved forward and find that peace that surpasses all understanding.

I don't know if these words will find you any comfort. But I am glad you reached out to me. My suggestion for the next few months; focus on the day and if you can't; focus on the minute or a second. You can make it through this. It is important to cry and often. When you kids ask, tell them that "Daddy is just sad, but it's ok to be sad." Crying is our body's way of expelling stress and I'm sure your have your boat full of it at the moment. My last suggestion would be to find a group of people that have shared the same experience. And if going to a group talking to a bunch of strangers isn't your cup of tea (heck it wasn't mine for my own reasons) - then I would suggest a personal grief therapist. If that isn't really an option, then I would suggest getting a journal - write in it everything that you feel; even if it's "why, why, why" over and over from cover to cover.

My friend, if you need anything please feel free to comment in the comment section of my blog. I will keep them private and not post them; sometimes it's good just to know that someone is there listening. I pray that God, the universe (whatever it is that you faith brings you to) gives you the wisdom of understanding and the strength to make it through this.

Pax,

-d

PS - And to my reader whom this post is for (and any other readers) I've started a twitter feed for this blog. Please feel free to follow (ThenThereWasTwo) and you can ask me questions or even reach out for support.

Opening up to Questions

2010-05-24T07:27:00.000-07:00

I'm in the mist of two rather long blog post right now that I'm hoping to get up very soon. However, like most of my post, as I write them the thought or my own self-revelation (as you will) changes slightly. Then I end up having to sit back and think even more about what it is that I'm writing about and how it makes me feel. It's a process and one that I don't take too lightly. Everything in this life is a lesson to me right now and I want to make sure I take it in for what and everything it means to me.

Knowing that it might be a few days before I will finish them, I wanted to turn this blog around a little. Those of you who read and comment - it warms my heart. It means the world to me that how Ethan and I travel through this journey touches people in a way that keeps the spirit of Christopher alive and moving forward. So I'm going to try something different. I'm opening this blog up to questions. Feel free to ask me about how I handled the news of Christopher's cancer, ask me if it's ok to be pissed at the world and everything that it holds, ask me what it is that I want in life, ask me for my thoughts on situations from anything: single motherhood, being a cancer care giver, how I handle raising a child who lost a parent, anything goes.

I want to be there for the people who read this blog as much as your comments have been there for me when I needed them. I will try to answer all questions that come and with as much honesty that I can. I won't hold back and sugar coating won't happen, but what will happen is you will know that your not alone. That there is someone else out there who went or is going through the same thing. And maybe through all of that, together we can help find what makes us all live strong.

Friday

2010-05-18T15:12:00.000-07:00

On Friday, May 21st I would have celebrated a 3 year fight with cancer for Christopher; however, as we all know, that's not the case. I still remember that day and the call from the nurse at the doctor's office asking both of us to come in. And when I tried to blow her off she got very quite and told me, "Ms Seibert. He's. Very very sick. You need to be here."

The second I heard those words I knew. I knew in the pit of my gut what they found. It didn't matter his age, or how hard he had been working out and trying to be healthy. I knew it was cancer and I knew in the back of my mind what that all meant for our little family.

May 21st will be etched in my mind for the rest of my life. Why? It was honestly the day that changed everything. And the start of the day that changed me in a way. (But that's for another post that will be up soon.) Friday marks a time in my life when I didn't think life itself could get worse and yet I found that it could.

But it is also a day that I hold in my heart for one of the most important reasons - it was the day Christopher looked me in the eye and told me that he would fight. He would fight this cancer tooth and nail - not for himself but for Ethan, me and our family. It was a day he wasn't afraid of, but used it to give him strength. So I use this day in the same light. To give me the light and strength I need; to hold my head up high and let Christopher know that I use his strength everyday. His courage hourly. And his tenacity by the minute.

I ask you all out there who read this blog, use this day to find strength and courage in something that you feel might bring you down. Yes, life is rough and sometimes a witch; but we can all change that through our own perception of what is rough. Often times the rain in our lives just might stop if all we did was change our point of view. Pax.

My Alpha and My Omega

2010-05-04T07:22:00.000-07:00

I am the Godmother to a wonderful little boy who turns one today. To fully express what this tender little child means to my life would be an understatement of what my words could ever express on paper; in a way he was, is and shall always be a true blessing in my life.

I vividly remember the night his mother, my good friend Amber, called to say they were expecting child number two. I was sitting in the living room, thinking about an upcoming CT scan that Christopher was going to take. With gently closed eyes, I sat saying my nightly prayers that "this" would be the CT scan that would show that the cancer stopped growing or shrank twice as more than anyone had hoped. These were always the prayers that filled my head about a month before he would go in for a scan. Before I reached the end of my prayers of a life with no cancer and everything that would go with it - the phone rang. After our friendly exchange I knew something was different or that there was something that was preoccupying her mind, so I asked... "what's up?" Amber asked me, "well hey... if I come for another visit could you take some pictures of me...." My eyes went from being completely focused to completely glazed over. I knew the reason for the phone call and the question in less time than it took for me to breathe. "We're expecting!"

I paused, took a deep breath and told my friend that I was so happy for her. And I was. But I was also so very sad. It blanketed over me as if someone had pulled a dark cover over my eyes. When I got off the phone I quickly called Christopher with tears in my eyes and in good ole Christopher fashion he knew that something was wrong before I could even say hello. I explained about the great joy that was brought into their lives and how happy I was for them, how this must be a wonderfully exciting time for them. Christopher stopped me, "d, your upset. You're upset, because.... well... we can't have another child right now. But I promise, as soon as I'm off chemo - you, me and kiddo number two… OK."

He was right. I could feel it in my guy like some strange alien that was hatching from my belly. A green-eyed monster, if you will. Here was a couple that was living the dreams, hopes and desires that Christopher and I held tightly with both hands, white knuckles and prayed nightly for. A dream of not having to worry about cancer, the hope of more children and the desire to fill Ethan's life with a sibling. And yet we could hope and dream, but we couldn't really act on it. Only hold it in our hand like a kids list to Santa and think - if I believe in him, Santa would bring it to me right? So that's what we did. And did. And did, till I got the phone call that changed everything.

Shortly after the phone call, I called Amber and explained to my expecting friend that my husband was dying; to which her, her hubby and their almost one year old hopped a plane and flew in for a week. Their visit was a blessing. Amber helped take care of some things that mentally I could not, and Marcus her husband helped me with Christopher on our visits to the doctor and outings where Christopher wanted out of the house.

While they were here Amber told me she wanted me to be her child's Godmother. And I was so honored and yet I couldn't muster up any emotional excitement from being completely drained from trying to wrap my head around the idea that my life was changing on a level that I wasn't expecting to happen for another 50 to 60 years. Time passed, Christopher passed away and I started trying to figure out how to be a single parent.

Months went on and as I approached Christopher's first birthday that he wouldn't be here to share it with us, I started thinking about all the other things that Christopher wouldn't be here for. And like any train of thought; it picked up speed and left me emotionally crashing when I came across the thought that I would never be able to live the dream of more children with Christopher. Then came the thought that the love I held in my heart for more children or to share in Ethan's life the joy of a sibling might not ever be expressed. This derailed train often came into a halt on the cusp of the thought that if one day I found someone to love and they had children - could I love another child that wasn't mine with the same fire that I hold in my heart for Ethan? And that is where my "over thinking" took over my thoughts and I think I even came to the conclusion that I would just never open my heart up to anyone because, well… it was just easier to think that life would be easier if I didn't have to do the mental work that needed to be done to even talk about these feelings with my therapist.

Then almost two weeks later something wonderful happened; a beautiful child was brought into the world and I was his Godmother. As I looked at the photos that came to me, I felt this feeling starting to grow and expand into my soul. It was the same feeling I felt when Ethan was born. It was warm and filling; it was love. I felt a feeling I didn't think I ever could, I more than cared for a child that wasn't brought into this world my me. This little boy who lived miles away and knew nothing of me was changing my thoughts on love, life and what it meant to be who I was.

I found my mornings filled with the thoughts of two little boys. The little man that reminds me daily of his daddy, who’s laugh is so intoxicating you just have to laugh with him and for no reason other than her cares, comes to me and gives me a hug and tells me he loves me; my beautiful little muppet. Then there is a little man who's blue eyes warm my heart and who smile just makes you want to reach through his photos and hug him and you can’t help but grin when you look at him. My evenings were filled with bed time stories for my muppet and kisses good night and hearing stories about the strides my Godchild took that day and listening to the “coos” that he made.

I have often thought of these two little men in my life as my Alpha and my Omega. The first and last letters of the Greek alphabet that have been used since the fourth century to express the bounding nature of God’s divinity. The bible even refers to Christ as this in reference to the everlasting and almighty power that he holds. God, Christ, the universe (again whatever it is that you believe in) existed before anything else and will exist after all else ceases.

The place I hold in my heart for these two little boys is endless and it was created before they ever came upon this earth and I will still feel this way even after the Lord tells me it’s my time. They are the first thoughts of my day and the last. They are a part of my totality and what makes me; me. They are with my thoughts always and forever and the love I share for both of them is not defined by a bloodline but the way my heart holds them together in it. They are both my little muppets who I care and love more than anything and I would spend a thousand lifetimes trying to show them this if I had the chance.

Happy First Birthday Aidan. You taught me a valuable lesson in life – one that I would never be able to explain to you, but that one day I hope you understand through the love I hold in my heart for you how much you mean to me.

Thank You To You All

2010-04-20T13:57:00.000-07:00

I knew there were people out there that follow this blog. I figured for the most part it was friends and family; however, I have been proven wrong more times than not when it comes to this area of my life. Recently I have gotten several comments on the blog about how the story of "us" and what I have learned about myself, life and everything in between is in a word helping people.

I started this blog just a few months after we found out Christopher had cancer as a way to keep family informed of his progress. Then after he passed away I debated very long and hard about shutting the blog down. "What is the point?" I often thought to myself. Christopher is gone and who wants to hear about woman trying to make it through the day? Then one day after he passed I got an email from a friend who wanted to know if I was ok. I hadn't posted on the blog, Facebook or Twitter in several weeks.

I read that simple little email over and over and as I did I got this mental image of my friends and family sitting behind their computers, wide-eyed, continuously clicking the refresh button hoping that I would break my silence and tell the world I was ok. I remember sitting at my computer halfway slouched in my chair swiveling it back and forth wondering how do I spin grief in a positive light? So I wrote and re-wrote; then re-wrote. I didn't want to sound like I couldn't handle it, but I also didn't want to sound like I was hopped up on happy pills and 3 buckles away from a padded room. So I closed my eyes and just wrote what came from my heart.

There have been several times that after re-reading a post I question if I should even post it. Sometimes I feel like it's a little too much of my heart or soul to blast out over the web; but then again if that post touched one person - then it was meant to be out there. Often times I am told by friends and family that the blog is sometimes "a little hard to swallow" and when they tell me that I just want to tell them - "what I'm going through at times is a little hard to swallow" But I don't ever tell them that, I just say I'm sorry and move on.

Truth be known these post are the little pieces that make up me. The lessons in life that God, the universe (again whatever it is you believe in) afforded me to have. Sometimes these lessons are bittersweet like the woman I met out on the anniversary of Christopher's passing or they are hard and I struggle through them like the news of Ethan's little pre-school friend's Dad. Either way they are parts of life that I choose to look upon and reflect. The one thing I don't believe in are coincidences. Everything in life is brought to us for a reason and what we are left with is a choice. Do we choose to reflect upon it, move it to the side to look back on later or just toss it to the side as if it meant nothing? For me - I reflect and when I'm not sure what it means I write it down in my little book that I carry around to let time and my mind dwell and wrap around what it might possibly mean to me. Either way it ends up here. My revelations if you will.

Lately, I have found that there are more people than I thought that read this blog and you leave comments that touch the inner most fiber of my soul. One person wrote, "keep talking" and all I could think about was how honored I was that this person took time out to write to me - to share their inner most thoughts with a perfect stranger. Someone else commented that she was so moved that she texted her hubby a simple, "I love you". I cried on that one. I know the feeling of being so moved that you just want to reach out to the one you love and just let them know that you "love them". And you tell them this simple I love you because to expanded upon the complex feelings that you hold in your heart would take you days, so a simple "I love you" just sums it all up. All your comments warm my heart for the one and main reason that your comments mean that the story of "us"; the stories of a single mom trying to figure it all out as she goes, the love that she holds in her heart for the man that was taken too soon and the son that is the greatest blessing in my (and Christopher's) life; keeps Christopher's spirit and memory going. So one day I can show Ethan when he is older that even though his dad is gone, his life and the lessons we all learned from his passing touched the lives around him.

I guess what I am trying to say is, "Thank You to you all." Thank you for reading, for sharing your comments - they move me in a way that I don't think I could ever put words to at this moment. But trust me when I say - I read them and cherish one-by-one for what each one means to me. Thank you for taking time to follow this blog and most of all for leaving your thoughts with me. Again - words could never give the proper thank you, but trust me when I say it comes from my heart, expressed through my spirit and expounded upon through my soul.

Pax to you all...

April 18th - Happy Birthday My Love

2010-04-16T12:40:00.000-07:00

To My Love,

Happy birthday Love. Today you would have turned 35 and even though you would have put up a fuss that I not make such a big deal about today - you know I would have. There are times that I wish your Mom were still with us so I could call her and thank her for bringing such a wonderful man into the world. I would give anything to tell her what an incredible person, man and father she raised. To explain to her in infinite detail how you were so gentle and kind; yet strong and forceful when you need to be. To expand upon endless boundaries how I love you in all the ways you were and wanted to be. I would give anything to give her a hug to let her know how special you were and are to my life, to tell her that I would climb to the tallest point on earth and shout to the heavens that I was proud to be your wife. That even though your gone your lessons in life still teach me daily about what it means to have had someone who cared so deeply for me and our child and with such love and vigor. You truly were one of a kind Christopher.

I have to say my love that I have done allot of growing since this time last year. Last year I sat in my room after Ethan went to bed and I cried; God I think I cried for hours. The idea that your birthday came and went and you weren’t here to celebrate it with me and Ethan was the strangest feeling I had never felt before and trying to put words on it would only down play the feeling that resided within me. However; time, therapy, whatever the variable was that did it, made this year different. This year I didn’t feel the pain of not being able to celebrate your birthday, but instead I embraced it as another milestone; a different sort or milestone. Today marks the day that I spent the same amount of time without you that I did standing by your side in this battle with cancer.

I’ll be honest love, the idea that your birthday marks this milestone is very strange and sometimes in my mind very unsettling, but then again you always had a thing with dates and getting things just the way you wanted them so the meaning meant more than anyone could fathom. So I chalk this up to just one more thing you “got” your way. And to be honest, I don’t really think it could have happened on a better day. Because I will remember this day with all the love and hope that I hold in my heart.

Love you were a fighter. I knew that; hell, I more than knew that. Anyone that really knew you knew that. In fact, that is the one thing that most people remember about you; your spirit and will to fight for what you believe in. No matter what other people though or what ever way the tides of thought went, you fought for what was right and you never took the easy road of just agreeing to agree. One of the things I have tried this year to do is to hold on to your fighting spirit to help me get through this. To never just go with the flow and well there are times when I fail and I fall into the traps my mind sets for me of people thinking I should be this way or do things at this time and it takes everything I have to try and fight off those thoughts. I’m always trying to think, “if Christopher was here what would he tell me” and I always come back to…. “d, you think and worry to much”. I can hear you voice and see your gentle face when this radiates between my ears. But what can I say; I’m your little worrier. I always have and as I try not to be, it’s hard and one of my personal mental battles that I still to this day I am working on.

This year has made me a little rougher around the edges, I won’t lie. My sarcasm that made you roll over laughing is a little more sarcastic (well if you compare “little” to something you get at one of those membership bulk stores). But my heart and the love that I have for you is still there, still loving every moment that we shared together – that will never go away. One of the lessons I have learned this year is that just when you think the worst is over and life has given me a chance to breathe and take in what I have learned – it’s not. There is always a new curve ball in the form of new struggles as a single parent, places and feelings that my mind seems to dwell and just what life itself throws me everyday. I have spent almost every walking moment that I have a free time to think contemplating what all of this means to me. And my answer to all of this seems to be one that is ever changing. No one answer is the right answer and the answer I come up with on a Monday often changes by Tuesday. However the one thing that keeps me sane in all of this is the fact that you used to tell me over and over when something would drown my mind and consume it – “you do what makes you feel good and what you know is right, hell be damned.” And well – hell has been damned a few times… But I am still standing and for most part I think I have done all right. I think you would be proud of me, I know I am of my self.

You know my love, for as much as I would give up the world to have you by my side; I also know that you are in place where there is so much light and love that it fills my heart with peace. And even thought there are nights when I lay in our bed and reach out for your pillow. I don’t think I will ever get completely used to the idea of not being able to feel you on my finger tips or seeing your cocky grin that just made my days (and my heart) fill with a sense of joy as if there was secret inside joke that only you and I got and understood. But through all of this; I also know that you are in a place where love and light fills your heart, a place where you can still look down and see the progress and strides that Ethan takes everyday in life. And there are times when I think – “how in the hell am I suppose to do this all by my self?” This is when I close my eyes and feel you all around me, thickening the air that I breath, reaching in and dancing around my heart, mind and soul; comforting me the same way you did before all of this. Thank you my love for all the memories you left with me to share with Ethan one day.

Happy birthday my love. I love you.

-d

A Year & Half Later

2010-04-12T15:30:00.000-07:00

Today marks 18 months from Christopher's passing and for one of the first times in a long time; I can't say that it only feels like a month ago. To be honest it feels at times like it's been five years. I often find my self looking at pictures of him around the house and thinking back to when the photo was taken - it seems so long ago. Even longer when I try to think back to a time when there was no cancer (or at least that we knew of at the time).

The 18th this month marks what would have been Christopher's 35th birthday and like in good ole "d" form there will be a post in the form of a letter to him on that day. So for today I just want to keep this little post brief; trust me there is nice long one in the works coming soon. But for now; I'm keeping it simple. 18 months today I lost the man I love to cancer, but in his death I choose to find meaning and hope that he is in a better place with no pain, no cancer and most of all filled with light and love. And that gives me a peace that warms my heart from the inside out.

It's Not What We Have; It's What We Believe In

2010-04-06T21:41:00.000-07:00

One of my fondest memories of Christopher is him sitting in bed with his laptop, eloquently named "Iron Chef", listening to music and sharing with me what it was that he loved about the music that filled his life. One of his favorite games was to play a snip-it of a song and see if I knew the title and who sang it. For the most part we shared similar taste in music; however, he thought there were times that my taste in rock where a little harder than he preferred (what can I say I'm a rocker at heart). But then again I never really could get into country music as much as he did (and he did own a ten gallon hat and at some point in his life I think he even owned a pair of Rocky Mountain jeans, but I digress). This is what made us; well us. It was truly one of the things we shared in our relationship that made me grin from ear-to-ear knowing that no matter what; when words alone could not explain to the other how we felt there was always a song and/or melody to help guide the way to the others feelings.

When he passed away the idea of that little white "Iron Chef" sitting next to the bed was a visual that was hard for me gaze upon; so one night I shut it down and put it up in my closet on the shelf that I could reach without a ladder. And I did that for a reason. Let's just say, I didn't want to see the daily reminder of one the memories that I missed almost hourly.

Several months ago I pulled out the laptop. I remember pulling it down and thinking that I should have put something around it because the dust was so thick I wasn't sure if it would even start up. I powered it up and gazed at his desktop; not really sure what I was going to find or if I even wanted to “find” anything. I saw the icon of the hard drive with the name "Iron Chef" under it. I remembered the night I set up his computer and him asking why I called it that. I joked at the time that it was the first thing that I thought of and yet over time it became a very appropriate name for that little machine (but that’s for a whole another post). Looking through this glimpse in time it was like his life had stopped for him. His files where still in their “Need to work on” or “Need to burn to disk” folders. I found his resume and cover letter from when he was looking for a job. I stumbled on to a word document entitled "B/C I Say So" where he had worked on ways to explain to future employers’ that he had cancer, but how he wasn't going to let it stop him. Loved all the reasons and each one was a very Christopher thing to say. One of them was - "I'm a fighter, enough said. This won’t get in my way."

Then I opened his music library. To be honest; later that night I thought it was a mistake to do that because what I found made me cry. In his iTunes were all the playlist that he created. There was one for Ethan, filled with music that was gentle and only Christopher would think of them for Ethan. There was John Lennon’s "Baby Boy", "Somewhere Under The Rainbow" and other music from the Garden State soundtrack. There was a playlist entitled, "My Love" and well it was filled with all of the music that meant something to us; the first song we danced to, music he used to play that he said reminded him of his feeling for me, and music that I used to tell him was my mantra for what ever it was that I was experiencing in life at that time. There was music in there that I knew he didn't like, but it was in there - I'm sure because he knew at the time it was what I listened to all the time and in turn that reminded him of me. Just another testament of the love that we shared and of all the things he did that made me love him the way I did and do.

Then I saw another playlist that made my heart stop. It was called "Chemo's Mental Warfare". He always said one of his greatest fights in cancer was his hope and belief that he could do anything he put his mind to. I stared at this playlist for several minutes just wondering if I even wanted to see what songs where in there. Did I really want to know? For a brief moment I felt like a voyeur peering into the last moments of his life without asking. But then again - I was his wife - but then again do I really want to see this - but then again he always shared his music with me - but, but, but....

I closed the laptop that night without looking at this mysterious playlist. The physical pain that I felt in my heart told me I wasn't ready to look at it; just looking at the other playlist was too much for one night. I think a week past before I got up enough guts (or it might have been liquid courage, who knows) to look into this part of Christopher's life that he kept guarded by this little white box. It was filled with music that took my breath away. Bon Jovi's "It's My Life", Jack Johnson "Better Together", Guns-N-Roses "Sweet Child of Mine", Aerosmith "Back in the Saddle", and the one that made me cry - 3 Doors Down "It's Not My Time". Why might you ask this song was the trigger to a waterfall of tears? Well one night I came home from work and told Christopher of a song that made me think of him; that it was his song in a way. And even though we joked about it being his song all the time – it never really went any further than our playful banter. However, no matter how much banter we lobed back and forth; I guess he thought it too because it was played more often than any of the other songs in his playlist. It was like he sat in chemo and put the song on repeat. I'm sure you can guess the meaning of the song, but in a nut shell it's about someone being put in a situation that might bring them to the end of what they thought was the perfect life and well...."it's not their time" and they will fight to prove it (so-to-speak).

That night I hugged that little “Iron Chef” and missed my love; and yet I felt like he was there still sharing his music with me. Showing me his feelings for our son, the love we had and the faith and hope had to beat cancer so he could share more time with us. Again, this wasn't the plan that God, the universe, whatever you believe in afforded us to have. But what it did give me was a glimpse back into his life to a time that I will always hold and carry in my heart. To a time when there were talks of what our future holds and not when the next future chemo or CT scan was scheduled for. A glimpse into what we believed in and not what "he" or "we" had or had to deal with.

I recently created my own playlist on my computer at home that I work on entitled "Mental Warfare" and put the songs that have helped me get through this time of discovering my new normal. The songs that fill it are, "The Climb", "Every part of Me", "I walk Alone", "What About now" and "It's Not My Time". Why might you ask I need my own "Mental Warfare" soundtrack. Well it's a soundtrack to my new normal and all the things I try not to “over think”, as my friends would put it. To work past all the hurdles placed in my mind put there by myself and the thoughts I think others would have about me or the situation that I have been placed in. Things that I have worked very hard over these months to find my strength and where I stand as a Mom, a survivor, a woman and more importantly – as “d”.

As the song goes (It’s Not My Time) “Looking back at the beginning of all of this and how life was…I’m in world that tries to take my dreams away and now I’m taking back… There is a will in me and it’s time to show it…There might be more than you believe in and there might be more than you can see… My friend, this life we live, it’s not what we have, It’s what we believe in.”

* thank you my love for leaving this for me to find and reminding me that even though I can't have you, your belief in our dreams and hopes was greater than anything anyone could fathom – it was one of the greatest gifts you could have ever left for me – well next to Ethan that is :) *

Club W - Part II

2010-03-26T21:30:00.000-07:00

I cannot tell you or express you all out there how many times I have thought I was done with this post and then hovered over the publish button only to hit cancel and wonder if I should or shouldn't post this post. Why the internal struggle over something so simple as words on paper (or screen in this case)? Well, because it's not just about me and yet it lets people peek into my head durning a time that I tried with the best of all intentions to let people know I was ok with everything that had happened with Christopher... so I guess I should start at the beginning.

Back in December I wrote a post entitled, "Club W" - it was about me getting news of a child's dad that had passed away from cancer and my own internal struggle over what was right and easy. Should I reach out to this woman and let her know that she's not alone. Recently, Ethan was invited to a birthday party; which isn't strange, we get allot of those (Ethan has allot of friends at pre-school). I must have stared at the invite for two weeks trying to figure out where I had seen this child's name before, but each time I thought about it it eluded me. For the life of me I could not put my finger on why this child's name seem so important; in the end, I ended up brushing it off and telling my self that I had made the whole thing up in my head.

Then came the day of the party. I was nervous. It was odd. I've sorta become a pro at going to birthday parties and not knowing anyone there; so what made this day different? I had no clue and at one point I think I chalked it up to the weather change and the random snow on the ground (I know, really random, but it made me feel better.). So Ethan and I pressed on to party. We showed up and instantly Ethan saw his friend (the birthday boy) and they greeted each other. The child's mom looked at Ethan and I and sorta exclaimed, but not loudly, "Oh this is Ethan". Mentally I raised an eyebrow and thought this might have been a clue to what I couldn't put my finger on - but I brushed it off as "this is Ethan, your friend you always talk about".

It wasn't until the kids were lined up ready to get the party started (if you will) that the birthday boy's mum came up to me. "I'm so glad you all could come. I was hoping you would; I really wanted to meet you. I was very nice of you to reach out to me..."

B-I-N-G-O! It hit me. I was standing face-to-face with the woman from my post. I got a lump in my throat. For one of the first times in my life I wasn't sure what to say and the words that would normally flow so easily from my lips had no voice to go with them. I mentally tried to count the months from when she lost her husband and then mentally try and put my self back in that place and remember what it was that I was going through at that time so I could try and be a better friend for her to talk to.

I thought about Ethan's first party after Christopher passed away. I remembered how even with all the help from friends and family, I was sorta in a daze. Looking at what all Christopher was missing. How Christopher would love to be there celebrating such a wonderful milestone in his child's life and yet, Ethan's party was more a milestone for me as well. It was his first birthday where I didn't have my love there by my side to share in something that I should completely be happy about. It was gut wrenching to feel two very drama different emotions that spanned a spectrum wider than any canyon I've seen and all at the same time. To feel as though if you stood still too long you might be engulfed by your own emotions and not be able to even move forward. I asked my self almost by the second; "Umm, ok, I think I can do this, what do I do next, cut the cake, play with the kids, are there enough hot dogs, do the kids need to come out of the sun for some juice, are people happy, does someone seemed left out of a conversation, does everyone a drink...." In a word I was spastic; I'll admit it.

So while I stood there, watching Ethan playing, I thought about his party almost a year ago. I thought about where I was then and where I am now. I looked at this other Mum, where she is now and where in her eyes I think she might want to be. I can't say that all the things I felt on Ethan's birthday were the same feelings that she felt this day - she never shared that with me; but in a way I think we gravitated to each other. Maybe because we are both on a level that not many people can or will experience -or- we knew what each felt and that there was a kindred of spirits so to speak in each of us. I'm not sure.

When it was time to leave I left this woman with my card and this blog address. I know that she might not be ready to be social or even talk about things yet, but by giving her this blog she can get to know me on her terms when she is ready. Do I hope she contacts me? Yes. Yes I do. If for nothing less for Ethan to have a chance to see his friend outside of school. But I would like to be there to tell her that what she feels doesn't make her alone in this world. That while it doesn't seem like it gets easier, she might wake up one day and have a day where things, life, whatever-the-case-may-be, wasn't as hard as the month before. To tell her I get what she says and have her know that in her heart she knows it too.

Half-Way There?

2010-03-09T10:17:00.000-08:00

Have you ever had one of those "where did that come from" moments in your mind? You know the kind, the ones that pop into your head and twist and turn in your mind until you say them aloud or do whatever it is that has come floating to the surface? That's sorta what happened about a month ago and God, the Universe, Karma (what ever you believe in) has left me little hints and clues that I don't know if I can ignore. Got your attention yet? Well let me explain.

About month ago I heard a song, not sure where I heard it, but there was a verse that stuck with me. "Maybe I will never be who I was before, Maybe I don't know her anymore. Maybe who I am today, Ain't so far from yesterday." I've hummed this to myself over and over - I even wrote it in my little book that I carry around with me. This is a powerful statement and one that almost explains this feeling that I have carried around with me for a few months.

I have often times sat in my living room after Ethan went to bed and gazed upon the photos above my fireplace. There are three photos - the first a black and white family photo of when Ethan was one (Christopher was actually hooked up to his first chemo treatment this day), the second one is a another black and white family portrait taken just four months before Christopher pasted away, the third photo is a color photo of Ethan and I sitting under a awning that has been destroyed and yet we are holding on to each other, the last thing on wall that hangs with all of that - a star. It represents the journey that we have gone through and the star is the hope that I hold in my heart for Ethan and I. My artist testament to this song in a way. Looking up at those photos and remembering who I was, how I used to be; everything in my life and faith was tested. Did I pass this preverbal test? I don't know and to be honest I don't care. Because I used to feel that life was all about how we make it through the bumps and how we weathering the storms, rather than potholes and rain - so maybe I'm not that far from who I was yesterday...

Don't get me wrong; nothing much has changed me on the inside. On the inside I am still the "d" that everyone knows and loves, but I have changed. I've been pushed to limits that I never thought possible and done things on my own that I never thought I could. I have reached down inside and found all the pieces that made up me and just realized that some of these pieces were nice, but not needed - there are some things (pieces) in life that are just a little more important now.

It was one of these nights gazing upon my photos that I remembered something that happened to me shortly before I got the phone call that changed everything. I was sitting in traffic thinking and talking to God. I told God I was done - I had put faith in him and needed a sign - a sign that everything was going to be ok, that I was going to make it through this battle with cancer. I asked that he give him something, anything, I just needed something because I thought I was on the verge of breaking and completely melting down. It was then that the light turned green and I turned right. That is also when the radio skipped and switched to a new station. The song playing was Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer" and the line of the song that the radio fell on was the verse that says, "living on a prayer, we're half way there". I grinned. Thanked God for the sign, even went and told Ethan's God mother about the events that had happened that morning. Needless to say - I have questioned that sign since I found out Christopher was going to die. However, looking at those photos one night I remembered that morning on my way to work. I started to doing some mental math and being an artist and not an accountant - I pulled out my calendar and a pencil and started counting. (get ready for some goose bumps when I tell you this) I discovered that night that from the day Christopher went into the hospital to the day he past away (the days of his battle with cancer) are the same number of days from the day he passed away till his birthday this year. It gave me chills and explained my sign - sorta. I was half way though a process when I would be ok. I won't lie the dates in Christopher's life have been very strange - Oct 18th (the day of his funeral) his mom's birthday. April 18th (his birthday) is exactly six months from when he was buried. So to say that I have to ignore this strange number of days is the least from my mind. It's just the opposite. Was this another little hint that God, the Universe afforded me to have? I don't know. Maybe. That's the way these thing work - it's completely left for the individual to take from with what they want or need.

Shortly after this, a week or so later, my dad came for a visit. And. Well. Let's just say I had a very interesting conversation with him. One that I never thought I would have with him. So strange that I consulted with friends on their thoughts on the advice/topic at hand. And when they all agreed with my father, I turned to the paid help. My honest thought was - I pay my therapist to agree with me - right? WRONG. My therapist agreed with my father and for all the same reasons my Dad has his thoughts and views on the topic. What is this magical little topic you might ask? Well, I'm not 100% comfortable sharing it at this moment. Those of you who I consulted - know. And that's how I'm keeping it for now. Was this advice given to me by my dad, good, bad, neutral? It was advice. Advice that I see the points made and where everyone is coming from. And possibly another sign that God, the Universe, (again whatever you believe in) is trying to tell me. As my therapist would tell me - things are coming together in you mind and the world is just helping you along...

Am I going to take this suggestion, advice, fatherly-guidance - I don't know. What I do know is I'm going to take these next few days till Christopher's birthday and use it for more reflection upon where I came from with this battle with Christopher's cancer, the loving and wonderful relationship we had, my own thoughts and beliefs and how that makes me - well me. I'm almost half-way to a point in my life where I've spent more time without Christopher by my side, than I spend by Christopher's side fighting cancer. I'm reaching a new phase, sorta like the moon. This will be my time of feeling full about the life God gave me and trying to put those phases of the dark side of the moon behind me, but yet not forgotten. Just enough behind to look back when i need it, but not dwindle there. "I'm half-way there, living on my prayers."

Two Things Off My List

2010-01-29T11:05:00.000-08:00

At the end of this month, on Sunday, two events will happen that I can cross off my bucket list. Two very major milestones that to be honest; I wasn't sure were even going to happen. Come Sunday I will be able to say that Ethan is paci free (the paci saga will come in another posting) and completely potty trained. Looking back I really didn't think this day was going to come. It was only a few short months ago while standing outside hosing out poop from a pair of Ethan's underwire that I broke down and cried. All I could think about was what was I doing wrong. I was doing everything by the book, I had taken friends suggestions on what they did for their kids, I followed everything the school had suggested and in the order they suggested it - and yet nothing - Ethan wasn't getting it and I was on the verge of pulling out my hair (and in some cases I think I did, but I can't remember for sure now or not).

The one thing that raced through my head was something I read that said "if your having problems with potty training on a boy, the mom should step down and the dad should take over". The view in the article was that kids pick up quicker with their own gender type when it comes to potty training. My first thought after reading this page long ideology was great - what am I suppose to do - call up my neighbor's husband and say, "Um hey, can you have your hubby come down here so Ethan can see how he goes to the bathroom? (insert crickets chirping) It's for potty training (more crickets). I swear. Honest. (whole swarm of crickets being orchestrated by John Williams)" I know I joke with my neighbors that we are in a way that show "Desperate Housewives" (hell, we live on a street named "Pleasant Valley Lane" - you can't get any more "Wisteria Lane" than that) and while this does sound like something Lynette would do on the show.... That was a boundary that I wouldn't cross even with one eyebrow raised and shot of Gin by my side.

That day I gave up. Ethan went back to wearing pull ups and I resigned my self to the fact that no groom ever walked down the isle in a diaper and if he did - he's his wife's problem at that point. Sad thing to think - even not that motherly. I remember telling people my new look on the potty situation and I got one of two reactions; complete, out right hysterical laughter (or a chuckle) or a raised eyebrow (you know the one, where people don't know what to say because they border line want to tell you their personal thoughts on the matter because in some way you just became out of the running for "Mother of the Year" for them). But the truth be known, this is what I had to tell my self daily otherwise I think I might have drowned in my own feelings of not doing the best job I could with Ethan. And for me - that's was heartbreaking. Single parenthood - FAIL.

However shortly after Christmas; one night while it was right before bed time, Ethan was coloring and having a good old time. I was in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner and all of a sudden I saw Ethan drop his crayon and before I had a chance to ask him what was wrong - he bolted for the bath room yelling at the top of his lungs, "Mommmmmmmy, I havvvvvvvve to go pooooooty!" I ran in there thinking "What the heck?" Ethan has never told me has has to potty, let alone tell me with such vigor and actually mean it! So I ran right behind him and I helped him sit on the potty right before "PLOP!!"

He did it! My little muppet not only went on the potty, but he told me about it. And he knew that he had done something amazing. He was all smiles and looked at me with those big brown eyes and said, "I do a good job mommy?!?" I fought back my tears of joy and told him, "Yes Muppet! You did a very good job. Mommy is so proud of you!" And in only Ethan fashion did he say something that reminded me of Christopher, "Oh, that is good. I did good job. Yeah...(insert evil little grin)."

From that point on, he did get it. He told me when he had to go and there have not been any accidents at school or at home for almost a month now (knock on wood). Tonight I'm going to try and be brave and try something even newer - tonight Ethan doesn't sleep with a pull up.... *sign* *gasp* *grin*. Since it's been a month I think Ethan is ready to try and be completely diaper free. He's only worn a diaper at night, but like I said so far one month of being dry in the mornings - so I say - "Lets do this thing!"

WIll I ever figure out what the magic switch was in his head to make him understand what his little body was trying to tell him as far as when to go potty? No. Do I think it was me giving up and letting Ethan do it on his own? I don't know, maybe. Do I feel like I've won over the stigma in my head that I had about being a single parent? For now, but I know there will be new challenges I face raising a child on my own. Yes, I have friends and family who are always there to help me when I need it - but there are some things in life that your friends and family can't help you with and it's those things that we have to choose to either consume us and bring us down or force us to deal with the fear that goes with it and over come it. This is one that I can say I over came and I did it on my own (well Ethan did all the work really ;) ).

2010-01-05T10:15:00.000-08:00

When Christopher passed away there was a song I used to put on repeat and listen to over and over; it was Oleander's "I walk alone". I think I even stated on Facebook that this song was my little song between me and God. That I felt as if he had put Ethan and I in a situation that I didn't know how to handle and even more so didn't listen to my prayers that I sat on bended knees praying through a river of tears for. My feelings were that (in a nut shell) he let bad things happen to good people and I wasn't going to heal from this until I walked alone for a little while and not only found peace in my heart for what happened to Christopher but could heal from the pain I felt God himself put me through.

I never denounced God from my life, I just had a very jaded view of what his plan was for the three of us and honestly didn't want any plans that might come from anything he put his little finger on. It was my way of saying, "I respect your wishes and demands, but I don't have to like them or you at the moment or ever." It was a hard pill to swallow. But even more so to live through. And there were times when I would think, "Ok, he gave me my space - maybe I'm ready to bring him back into my heart." Then something would happen (like my dog passing away). Let's just say I had allot of mental conversations where God and I had our own little throw down - times when I would tell him if he did something like this to me again I was done with him. God, in a way, became sorta like a jilted lover and this was just another one of our little spats.

Maybe it was time that healed my heart. Maybe it was God laying off for a little while and not bringing more into my life that I couldn't handle to help me move past all this. Maybe it was all part of his plan from the get go. I had to loath him to understand him and love him; I needed that test of faith to make it even stronger than I thought it was. I don't really know the answer.

What I do know is that for the first time in over a year I feel good. I know that Christopher is in a place where there is love, light and most of all no pain. It's taken me over a year to get to this place. A place where I feel good about what might be out there and not afraid of what falls beyond my front door. As one of Ethan's Veggie Tales puts it - I'm happy because I'm happy on the inside, not because I try and find happiness around me.

Now don't get me wrong - I'm not all a bed of roses. I've done some rather hard work to get here. I've had to cast people out that I thought were toxic and struggle to keep those I cared about because of my own roughness around the edges through all this started to scare them away. But the dust is clearing and I can see the dawn. I can look back and say I did allot of growing and this has made me a stronger person - I've seen my weakness, my strengths, my flaws, my hopes, the "d" I didn't like and the "d" I know I am.

And for some reason I have this feeling that 2010 is going to be a good year. Now do I really know what that means? No. I'm not sitting here thinking that I'm going to win the Lotto or that Ethan becomes some artistic genius and I'm able to sell his pirate drawings for millions, but I can feel the hope and light that 2010 holds for me. Maybe it's a new decade that brings about this new air of confidence in me. Maybe it's all the physco-babble my therapist feed to me for over a year that I'm starting to believe. Or maybe it's me. Maybe it's the fact that I'm done living day-to-day, minute-by-minute. I want to look forward to things and for the past two and half years I couldn't.

So this year I have picked a song that sums yet another conversation with God and most of all Christopher. It sums up all my hopes and yet all my fears at the same time. It's Chris Daugherty's "What About Now". I believe in the song he's singing to someone he cares about and loves and maybe their relationship is a little dicey? I'm not sure, but it's like he's asking for a second chance and that's where the under lying theme for me comes from. No I'm not asking for a second chance. But what I am asking is "what about now and what about today, what if this was making everything I was meant to be; now that I'm here and come this far there is nothing to fear. So before it's too late (and time passes me by) what about now?"

Enjoy the song.

2010 Bucket List

2009-12-27T23:02:00.000-08:00

Earlier this month my work had our holiday party at a nice, hip restaurant in downtown Dallas. A few weeks before the party I went looking for something to wear to it. Being that I had lost some more weight, the dresses that resided in my closet were all too big. I walked into one store thinking that I wasn't going to find anything, but I always like the clothes they have in their catalogs so I figured what the heck. After a little stroll around the store this cute little black dress caught the corner of my eye and I had to try it on.

While thumbing through the sizes trying to figure out what size I am in this store the sales woman asked if I needed help. When I told her I was just looking and trying to find my size she said, "well we are all out of zeros in that one". I think I raised an eye brow at her, there was no way she was serious that she thought I was a zero. But shockingly she was. When I told her I thought I was a size six, she raised an eye brow at me and said there was no way and suggested a four. However, a size six and four were placed in the fitting room at my request.

I was shocked to find that I was a size four - I hadn't been a size four since college. I had to grin to my self while I looked at the sleek refection in the fitting room mirror thinking that in my mind I "thought" I personally looked "awesome" in that dress. Then I pulled out the price tag. My grin quickly turned into a frown. I couldn't see spending that much money on a dress that I was only going to wear once. Normally, I would tell myself that it was worth it because Christopher would always find some place for us to go so I could wear it again. But there is no Christopher to tell me that I could wear it again; ergo, there would be no other chance to wear it again; ergo, a giant waste of money.

I sat on the bench in the fitting room. My eyes darted at all the clothes I had tried on - none made feel the way this dress made me feel. But the price. My logical side told me over and over, "you'll never wear this again - it's a giant waste of money. You'll never go anywhere this nice again that requires a dress like this. Move on to the next store." I started to tear up while the sales associate was knocking on the door asking if I needed more sizes. I composed my self long enough to tell her thanks and no and started to change back into my clothes.

As I started to slip off this dress, this dress that made me feel beautiful, I thought about the last time I felt pretty. It had been a long time. I couldn't even remember the last time I had looked at my self and thought I was pretty. I had spent the last two and half years taking each day day-to-day. Each moment of my day was planed out even while I was at work. I always called to make sure Christopher was up for his doctor's appointments and work. I always scheduled appointments and gatherings with our friends. I planed date nights. Got sitters. I did everything so that the house and our family kept moving forward in the fight against cancer. And with all of this I slowly watched the refection in my bathroom mirror get more tired and worn down. I spent more time worried about everything around me than I did my self.

It was at that point that I zipped the dress back up and took a picture of the dress with me in it and posted it on my Facebook page asking my friends for their thoughts. One-by-one friends responded with "get it", "you look great", etc. So after some soul searching I did go back and get the dress and I wore it to my holiday party.

Do I regret getting the dress, yes and no. "Yes", because I really don't have another event or place to wear this dress to and more than likely in a few years this dress will get donated with only one wearing out of it. But at the same time "no" because - for the first time I saw my self as something other than a single, widowed, mom. I saw myself as a woman.

This little black dress now hangs in my closet and every time I walk into it I think about everything I went through and discovered about myself during 2009. I spent my days, day-by-day. I missed the man I loved. I cried. I didn't sleep. I created a schedule to cope with the missing and empty place in my heart. I found peace that surpassed understanding in Christopher's passing. I looked into my self to find the new "d", the one that still has to move along without the man she loved. I hit every milestone with conviction and tenacity. I made it a year and came to the realization that the word widow doesn't define who I am - I do. I am who I am and I will always do things "My Way" as Frank Sinatra puts it.

I will always remember 2009 for everything that I went through, but it's not really a year that I think I will find my self day dreaming about. I learned many things about life, my relationship with God and my self. I've learned that when you think you've hit that threshold, grit your teeth because it can be worse and you just might see it in your own life or of those of your friends.

I sat down today for the first time in my life and wrote down everything that I would like to "make" happen this new upcoming year. Now let me explain why I used the phrase "make happen". One of the things I did learn in 2009 is nothing comes to you. You can't sit at home and think about how you wish someone would come and take you out of your house - you have to get up off your rear and do it your self. Sometimes in life the best bet you can make is on your self. Friends and family are great, but they are also not mind readers. Life is what YOU make it. So I wrote my list of things I would like to make happen. Will they all happen - I don't know. But before the end of 2010 I would like to see little check marks next to all the things on my list. Hence why I call it my 2010 Bucket List. These are all the things that I would like to do, see or accomplish before 2010 kicks the bucket!

What are these things? Well there's allot. Some are privately for my eyes only, others are for Ethan and there are even things for Ethan and I to do together. The beauty of this list is that it is never ending. As I think of things I will add them to my list. And while I hope to do everything on my list - I won't be heart broken if some of the things don't happen - they just weren't meant to happen and I am ok with that.

So I know everyone is sitting there wondering what is on this list that I have jotted down in my little black book. Well here are a few and what they mean to me to have them crossed off my list.

A) Break Ethan of his "paci" habit.

Shortly after Christopher was told he had cancer Ethan became attached to his paci. Then after his passing Ethan and his paci became attached at the lips - literally. So I've put up with people's little comments here and there for a year now about how Ethan needs to lose that thing in his mouth. Well now that we have a year under our belt - Ethan has grown developmentally and I think he's ready. So come January 4th - starts his first day of no paci (this would be a good day to start saying extra prayers for my ears). To do this will help prove to me that I can be a great mom - silly I know. But while most people have their spouses to fall onto for support - I do this on my own.

B) Go Ice Skating

This one sounds silly, but during our relationship the one thing I always suggested to Christopher was that we go ice skating. However, his schedule never really gave us the chance to. And well, I'm just not going to spend another year wanting to do something and not doing it.

C) Donate another 12" of hair to Locks of Love

Yes in October I hope to have another 12" of hair so I can donate it again to Locks of Love in Christopher's memory. The one thing Christopher showed me was no matter how sick he was; he always thought of others. So in his honor I will continue to donate my hair until I donate the same amount of hair that Christopher was tall. This years donation will be two feet down - 4 to go.

D) A day to my self each season

This year I plan on taking one day off of work during each season. While Ethan is in pre-school I will go and do things for myself. Maybe a massage, mani, pedi or even go watch a movie. Something for myself. Something to relax from being a single parent (at-least from the hours of 8:00am-5:30pm) One of the things I learned from my friends that are separated from their spouses is that the weekends that they didn't have their kids they used it as down time for them selves. I don't have that option, so this is the next best thing for me and my situation.

E) I want to feel beautiful

Ok this one sounds strange, so let me explain. Just like that little black dress made me see my self as pretty for the brief moment I wore it - I want to get to a place where I see that in my self everyday without having to put on a little black dress to prove it to my self. How do I go about it - I don't know. But I have 365 days to work on figuring it out.

There are a few more things on my list and I hope that those of you who follow this blog will find some post here & there where I hope to get excited about crossing things off my 2010 bucket list.

Doing Things My Way

2009-12-14T09:00:00.000-08:00

There has been allot on my mind recently with the close of 2009 coming and of course moving into a new decade so to speak. Yesterday while making some of my world famous pralines I had the TV on in the kitchen and was watching Bravo's "Real Housewives of Orange County" (yeah - can't help it -train wreck - I think I actually lost some of my intellect while watching it)

So I know you all are asking your selves where this is going. Well I'm sure we all sit and see something or hear something and it reminds us one thing; that leads to another thought, then another and before you know it your off on another tangent? Well this is sorta how it happened for me and I will try to explain without losing you; so bare with me.

The Real Housewives of Orange County have a new housewife; I can't remember her name, but I don't think it's important. Any who - she was doing her interview where she explains her life, family life and views on raising a family - it all started ever so normal....

"My hubby, so-and-so, and I have a great relationship. We have three kids. My hubby works really hard and he knows that if he wants to keep me that this is the priority our life holds. I come first above all else, then the kids, then him, then the house...."

OK. Put the breaks on. What did she just say? Good thing I have DVR, because I had to rewind that and listen to it again. And yep. She said it. I think I might have dropped a praline on the floor when I heard it. Or a four letter exploitive - or I might have said the exploitive because I dropped the praline - not really sure.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but anyone that watches that show also knows she has a very strange relationship with her husband. NOW, I will be the first to tell people that ALL relationships are different and different people have different ways of making it work. But me personally, would NEVER put my self over the needs of my family. Who does that? (a statement that I find myself saying allot more lately).

That woman's statement brought me to something my mind has dwelled on allot lately. I have seen and heard of people become very self-centered towards their friends and lives. Maybe it's my situation, maybe it's the way I view things, maybe it's this new "d", the one that is shocked by how people treat those around them - the one who's eyebrows got a work out from all the "insert eye brow raise here" statements. Over the course of 2009 I have heard allot of stories from friends about their relationships, their friends relationship and strangers I don't even knows relationships. And all I can say - there would be allot more pralines on the floor if I just hadn't gotten used to the stories of who said what to who, who broke up with who and who was playing who. My friends know that I've called BS on one friend's friend's perspective of her life (did you follow that one), shook my head at one person's relationship with her BF and called one friend a "ding-dong" in the nicest of ways (insert eye brow raise) because I wanted to smack him up side the head. And in the end this all makes me shake my head.

So where is all this going? Well this morning while driving into work I was listing to Weezer's "Troublemaker". In a way I sorta relate to this song and what 2009, my friends, their situations and most of all life has taught me. Just like that housewife's statement, I have seen/heard things this year that make me want to "drop another praline on the floor". As I have said before 2009 was a year of transitions for me and while part of me can't wait for this year to be over, there is also a part of me that will always remember what I went through this year. This year was painful, gut wrenching and all-in-all not really a year that I told my self I would look back on. But that's not all true.

I did allot of growing this year. For Ethan. For my self. For whatever it is that life holds in store for the both of us. This was the year where I learned my about my own strength and weakness. I have worked really hard learning that it's ok to be afraid of the silence that fills a house that was once filled with inside jokes, joyful memories and the laughs of a family. Those memories are locked in my head to share with Ethan one day and now I fill that silence with new memories for Ethan and I - baking cookies, laughing at the funny faces that my muppet makes and most importantly finding the strength to laugh at my self. I've learned that there is a peace in the empty place next me in my bed. To know that the person who was there is no longer in pain and where he resides in is full of love and joy and that warms my heart. That the love I had for Christopher will live in my heart and Ethan's smile for as long as I reside on this mortal plane.

But above all that - I have learned that as much as I see the good in people - there are people out there that are not as nice or giving. However, that will not change me. I am that "troublemaker" who does things her way; who will still call BS on her friend's friends. Who's not afraid to raise an eye brow at one friends actions or smack her friends up side the head for being a little too trusting 101-times to many. I do it all my way and I will never take from a friend, but only try and give them the peace they need to make it through this journey life gives us. I have learned that it is ok to be who I am. That my friends don't define who I am - I define who I am and I do that through the things I think, do and become a part of.

So what's the moral of this post? Well. In a round about way. It's sorta like this. It's the holidays. Look to your friends and let them know what they mean in your life. Put someone or something, other than your own needs, this time of the year even more so, above anything else. Good will towards man and all that good stuff. Look outward at what you can bring to the world instead of inward of what can get out of those around you. Do me a favor and pick the praline off the floor, brush it off and pass it forward.

(if you still don't get it - Read Dickens's "A Christmas Carol" if you need it to be a little clearer.)

Club "W"

2009-12-08T11:08:00.001-08:00

I've mentioned here before that in life you are often given the choice to do what is right and what is easy and I guess I know the universe a little better than I should. Last night I did what I do every Monday after work, I rush to Ethan's pre-school to pick up my muppet. Last night was a little different though. I walked in and could sense that something was afoot. Was it the way the teachers looked at me, was it the air of silence around the building; I don't know. What I do know is that I could tell something was about to happen, but to be honest, I thought a teacher was going to tell me that Ethan pooped in his pants or got into a fight over a toy. What I got - I wasn't expecting.

I walked in and Ethan came running up to me. He was happy. Joyful. Ok, I thought to myself, maybe that something that I felt was a bad lunch coming back to haunt me. Then while putting on Ethan's coat one of his teachers came up to me.

"Did you hear?" she said in a very soft and gentle tone. Once I heard this, my observation in people kicked in. I quickly noticed her left hand holding up right as if she didn't know if she should put a hand on my shoulder. Her veins in her hands were standing out; a sign of increased blood flow and heart rate. That gentle tone in her voice, the calm before the storm.

I braced my self and asked, "Hear what?"

She took a long deep breathe and as I waited for her to respond to what seemed like forever my mind started to dart back in forth as to what she was going to say - was she leaving the school and wanted to tell me because she's really fond of Ethan, did Ethan get hurt and I just can't tell from his happy-go-lucky demeanor this night, what?

"Matthew. Ethan's little friend. His dad passed away from cancer this weekend."

My eyes grew twice the size, this was NOT the news that I was expecting and it threw me off my feet. I don't know Matthew or his mum and dad, but my eyes could not help but dart between Ethan's little smiling face beaming up at me and the photo of Christopher I keep in his cubby. My heart broke into a million little pieces and the questions of "Really God?!? Really!?!" all came flooding into the for front of my mind. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry for this family, this child, the woman who just lost the love of her life. The pain I felt over a year ago came racing upon me, but before those feelings could cross the finish line - I mentally put up a wall for them to crash and burn into.

Ethan's teacher, still holding her hands, looked at me and asked if I was ok and in good ole "d" fashion, I raised an eyebrow, took a deep breathe and said "Yes. Yes I am."

In the end this teacher wanted to know if I would reach out to this woman. To let her know she not alone. But the sad part is. I know her place. Her pain. And the place where her mind dwells is not where you want another stranger dancing around telling you that everything is going to be ok, "see it happened to me and I'm ok". And you don't want to hear that it's going to be hard. That the easy part is over - now you have to figure out how life, your child, your-self all moves forward when all you want to do is be locked into your past. You don't want to hear about how you can love again - you had your love. And to explain that there are people out there who will run away from you the second you tell them that your a "Widow". That the greatest thing in life to over come is that the "dead do no wrongs" and when you do get over that - others around you won't. To know that as you travel through the grieving process and your child are on opposing paths. That while you can't keep it together, your child can and when you have moved past all the grief - your child will just begin to experience it.

No one needs to hear those things coming from a strangers mouth. Even if they went through the same thing. And maybe I'm wrong. But I've been right way more times than I've been wrong. SO. There was my choice. To go the easy road and tell this teacher that I didn't feel comfortable talking to this woman and go on about my sutto-not-so-merry way or do what this teacher thought I could bring to the table; to be there for this woman.

While I thought carefully as to what to say to this woman who came to me in the best meanings of her heart, she stopped me and said, "Oh and I almost forgot. Today we are sitting around in class sharing what we all thought Santa was going to bring us for Christmas and Ethan said..... Santa was bring him his daddy."

For the first time in months I re-felt that physical pain in my heart. Like someone shoved a sharp, rather large splinter into it and while I could feel it I couldn't see to hold it and pull it out. My eyes gazed upon Ethan and in my mind all I could think was how in the hell to I explain this one. Yeah I'm great about writing my feelings and emotions down on paper, but what do I say to Ethan. Confusion and numbness started to flood me from my head down. Double heart break.

I left the school and a small piece of paper with my contact information on it for the child's mother. Do I think she will call or email me? No. Like I said, I'm pretty good at reading people and I'm not often wrong and no-one who just lost the love of their life is going to go rushing to set up a luncheon with a member of Club "W" - because to reach out means it's real. And while all logic forces us to believe in this, you never really want to.

In the end, I will be there for this woman if she does call though. I've never turned down helping a friend when they are in need and I sure as hell am not going to turn down this woman if she reaches out - just because I don't know her. It's not in me.

The Tale that Time Tells

2009-11-19T10:15:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-15T15:47:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-03T10:53:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-02T06:51:00.001-08:00

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

2009-10-27T13:34:00.001-07:00

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

2009-10-21T11:50:00.001-07:00

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.

2009-10-14T19:33:00.000-07:00

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.

D Day

2009-10-12T06:52:00.000-07:00

To My Love,

Today, a year ago, you left this mortal plane. Today is hard for me. Today completes a cycle, one that I dreaded and yet one that I needed to come. This has been one of the hardest years of my life, trying to learn how to do it all and "do-it-with-a-smile" as you liked to put it.

I didn't go to work today - today is your day my love. The idea of sitting behind a desk listening to people bicker over the little things in life seems tright right now. You always knew it was the little things in life that made me happy and you were wonderful about how you did them too. From the "I (heart) U" post-it notes all over our apartment, to the love letters written in dry erase marker on the shower door and most of all, the way you looked at me and crack a grin - I knew with one look you loved me from the inside out. That your love for me could never be justified in an action or assemablance of words - your love was that strong. I miss that, more than you will ever know. I miss that cocky grin and those dimples - they lit up my world. The nap of my neck misses the way you would run thumb over it to let me know that even though I had a rough day - I was home and the day was over - tomorrow would be a new dawn. My nose misses the way the bath room would smell of your cologne after you would get ready for work. My ears miss the way you answer your phone - "hey there love"...

If there was ever a question in your mind if you were a good dad - let me put your mind at ease. You were the GREATEST Dad known to man. No matter how tired you were - you made sure that you checked on Ethan every night and made sure that he felt loved with every second you had with him. He couldn't have asked for a better Dad. I know your family situation was not what you wanted for him and you did everything in your power to make sure he never went through what you did. You knew where those faults lie and you avoided them with grace and sophistication. Ethan has some rather large shoes to fill my love, but please know this, I will keep your memory alive for him. There will not be a day that goes by that he won't know his daddy loves him and what you did for him. He will know of your journey, your fight, your will and your love. Ethan one day will make a loving husband, devoted father and exceptional friend and he owes part of that to you.

Our life time was spread over 16 years and in those 16 years we had our own up and down journey of heart ache: your mum's passing and the drama that ensued after that, my grandfather, Katrina and your own awkward family situation. Most people take a life time to do everything we managed to squeeze into 16 short years. But I will always remember every moment, minute, second as if I was living it all over again. You gave me strength when I had none, you found the beauty in life when all I saw was darkness, as I once said, "if life was like a box of chocolate - you were the road map on the inside letting me know where the good caramels were and where the nasty nugget lay." You were my best friend in life. I knew if I had a problem, you would be there with open arms to give me a hug and then tell me I was nuts for thinking the things I do - that's what made me love you twelve ways to Sunday. You loved me and yet could still tell me I was crazy and laugh at me without making me feel like an outcast. You were my coach and my defender. There wasn't anything I could do to disappoint you, you loved me in all my silly ways and in all the ways that made me, well me.

This year has been tough. Some would say this year has been a discovery of who I am - but that's far from the truth; I know who I am - you always made sure that I was consistently true to my self. This year has been a year of figuring out how life moves along without you. Time does not stop for any one or anything; it's cruel that way. Nonetheless, it's also a blessing that it does keep moving. One of your favorite sayings was, "time will only tell". I hated that phrase, because it meant I had to wait for time to pass - and well me and waiting - well umm - 'nuff said.

You know, my love, my dreams will never be what I expected it them be; sometimes I feel as though I don't belong - an outcast in my own surroundings. Who would have guessed it, me not fit in. It's so hard sometimes to see the looks when I tell people I am a widow. People can be cruel, but I know that grief is a nobel act; after all, it is emblematic of the deep love between us and my sorrow makes me more human than those people. I know in our toughest of times, you were the one to tell me "something" that while at the time seemed simple and understated was the greatest epiphany one could have. You were a sage in my eyes; knowing you has made me a part of who I am - the person that sees the good in everyone and doesn't judge based on first impressions. So I tell myself these people who don't know how to pick their mouths up off the floor - just never had anyone like you in their lives. ;)

I was listening to "our song" the other day - it really is our song. Listening to lyrics and the meaning. You were and are my flame. The light that filled my heart and will keep filling my heart. I will love you - always. You are my hero and through your memory I will send on the light you brought into my life to others. You will never really die in my eyes, because you live in the twinkle of Ethan's smile and the reflection of my own eyes.

You are a great man Christopher - notice I didn't say were - that's because your mission in life isn't finished - your story lives on. Today is for you. I love you for everything you did for me, my family and most all Ethan.

I love you My Love,
-d

Bittersweet October

2009-10-01T08:40:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a favorite month out of the year, for some it's due to a holiday or special occasion, for others it's a change in weather. For me it's sorta all of the above. October is a month when the weather starts to change and become cooler; pleasant. It's also a month filled with events in my life that I hold dear to my heart: Christopher's Mum was born in October, so was my Grams, I met Christopher, Ethan was conceived (over sharing I know), October was the first month Christopher and I both thought of to have our wedding (but couldn't wait that long so picked May) and we can't forget Halloween! So in a nut shell - October has always brought me happiness. I've known for awhile that October is my month - if anything is going to happen - it will always be in October. That's how I knew after the phone call from Christopher's doctor that he wouldn't pass away anytime before October. October was our month and Christopher always had a way of getting what he wanted....

So recently in grief therapy, my therapist has asked me to re-live if you will the events and personal thoughts of the month leading up to Christopher's passing and what October now means to me. And I have debated heavily over wither or not to share that part of my story. My mind goes all sorts of topsy-turvy of why I should and shouldn't. Sometimes I feel like people need to know that death isn't pretty. Death in-and-of-itself is peaceful - it's the suffering that is gut wrenching. But then again, I want to keep Christopher's memory of how people remembered him in the way they want to remember him - people don't need to read in my allegorical way the events leading up to his passing. However, it is those events that have shaped me into who I am today and why I am such an advocate to do what I can for those with cancer and their families.

I've tried to burn out the memories of some of the things I went through and hard as I might there are also things I will never be able to forget. They will live with me, locked in a box and I have swallowed the key. I've dealt with these events and the feelings that were birthed from them, but if I was even asked - I would not share. There is a show that I like to watch and have found it to be very cathartic lately with their new topics of good vs. evil, but I digress. Shortly after Christopher passed away, the clip below aired. I watched this scene over and over and over. This character was me and the words that came out of his mouth were like they were my own. The character (literally) spent some time in hell and while talking to his brother, he tells him why he can't share what he went through. It's better than any words I can form here.

Because Of You

2009-09-20T13:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Cancer,

You entered my life through the back door. Creeping up on us, silent and unknowingly. Had we known you had been there hiding - you would have been eradicated. Were you there hiding at our wedding, our trip to New York, when we went down to New Orleans? I guess it doesn't matter where and when you hid from us, you did what your goal in life is to do.

Because of you, I became scared for the life of my son. You took his grandmother and his father and I thought in my heart the next on your list of destruction was my muppet, my Ethan. Well I hate to tell you - he's not, I'll make sure of it. See the thing you didn't count on, is the fact that he was made from the purest form of love. He has my will, his daddy's determination and our combined faith in hope. You messed with the wrong family this time. I know more about you than I ever wanted to and I will use that to my ability to fold and twist you into a paper doll. I know where you hide and I will be looking for you. I will teach Ethan to look for you too. You just happen to piss off the wrong Mum this time.

I learned the hard way of your process. Yeah, I cried every night in my sleep. You made me watch the one I love die. You made me want to forget every painful detail. You made me ashamed of my life because it felt so empty. You made me afraid and retreat in my shell. I hid the weakness in my eyes, force a smile, faked a laugh and lied to my self that my heart couldn't break any more than it already had. You convinced me that this life was what I could look forward too again and because of you, I convinced my self that there was nothing to look forward to in anything. You took my light and snuffed it out as if was just a dimly lit candle.

In this year, I've reaffirmed that family doesn't have to be blood bound. That the limitations that I placed on my self in my mind are just that - in my mind. I have found comfort and friendship in those I thought I never would. And it was one friend that taught me how to smile again and what the phrase "strength with conviction" means to me. This year has been the largest roller coaster I've ridden in my life and there where times I wanted off so I could puke my guts out and wave a white flag. But I didn't.

Any while this weekend was harder than most milestones so far, I've broken through my confusion. I have seen the good, bad and all the things in between. Pretty soon your ego will catch up with you - and I will be there, with one eye brow raised, ready and waiting to kick your little ass - so brace your self. I will not make the same mistakes we did before, I've learned my lesson. You come around here and you're gonna see what it means to be "thunkerstruck".

Know this. Christopher put up the most amazing fight and while he is gone; he is still mine, Ethan and other's hero. His story will live forever; while in the future yours will be a brief memory. One that we will find a cure for and your life will become all but a helter-skelter memory. You have no control over me, Ethan and my family.

May peace be with you,

-d

Thunderstruck - AC/DC