Club W - Part II

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?

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

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 ;) ).

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

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

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"

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.