I Am Reclaiming the Holidays

I haven't really enjoyed Thanksgiving or Christmas since 2009.

Yes, despite everything I have to be thankful for, despite having four wonderful kids with whom I can share the magic of Christmas, I've been just barely making it through the holidays, let alone enjoying them.

In 2010, it was the first Thanksgiving and Christmas without my dad. It was hard, because his birthday is right around Thanksgiving, and he loved the holidays more than anyone I know. We had lost him only two months prior. It all felt forced and difficult.

In 2011, we were a little more used to not having Dad, but it was still hard. I didn't look forward to it, in fact, I dreaded the holidays.

In 2012 Sue was very sick around the holidays. I remember getting calls from her in which we discussed what we might do if she was in the hospital on Christmas. She was miserable. We faked it through those holidays, despite the fact that she wasn't in the hospital after all.

In 2013 we had lost Sue. My nieces and nephews were trying to see what life was like on the holidays without a mother. I was deep, deep in grief myself. I don't remember much about those holidays except escaping to cry in the bathroom a few times.

In 2014 we had made it through a whole year, plus, without Sue, but I wasn't feeling much better where the holidays were concerned. I remember waking up on Thanksgiving and crying, just wishing I didn't have to fake it through another holiday. I did end up enjoying myself at Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was just took so much effort to be happy.

In 2015 it was another year of merely "making it through". Again, things felt a bit lighter, but still not joyful.

Now it is 2016 and I am tired of dreading the holidays. I'm tired of crying in bathrooms, wishing happy days away, and being grumpy every time I hear a Christmas song. I know how disappointed my dad and Sue would be if they knew the extent of my holiday crabbiness. 2016 is the year that this will stop.

I will enjoy the holidays this year! I will listen to the Christmas songs and sing along at the top of my lungs! I will bake cookies and bask in the glow of Christmas tree lights!

The thing is, friends, we don't know how many Thanksgivings we will get. We don't know how many magical Christmas mornings we will be allowed to experience in our lifetimes. We need to squeeze out every bit of joy we can find, wherever we can find it. I used to be a person who loved the holidays. I want to be that person again.

When my kids wake up especially grumpy, positive that they will have a horrible day, I always tell them the same thing: It is up to YOU to DECIDE what kind of day you will have. You can CHOOSE to be grumpy, or you can CHOOSE to have a great day.

It is time for me to make the choice to feel joy, thankfulness, and contentment in the coming holiday season. I'm starting today!

Another Birthday and Blood Drive in the Books

It was horrible, I thought, that I couldn't schedule the blood drive in memory of my sister on my actual birthday. In fact, I cried about it a lot. I talked with the lady who schedules the blood drives and explained why it was so very important to me to have it on my actual birthday, the third anniversary of the day Sue died, but it didn't work out.

I hate when things don't go according to my plan.

I began planning the blood drive, while also completely avoiding thinking about my birthday. When well meaning friends would offer up a suggestion of how I could spend my birthday I would either 1. Cry, or 2. Change the subject. It took me weeks to stop obsessing over it. Once my birthday was about two days away, I finally came up with a plan.

My husband, Frank, took the day off from work to spend with me. I knew that I wanted to go for a walk and out to breakfast. When the day came, I decided I didn't want to go for a walk, I just wanted to go out for breakfast. And so began me just sort of taking the day minute by minute. We came home and I decided to spend a few hours watching trashy TV on the couch. We went to the Halloween parade at our little boys' school. I baked cookies for the blood drive. I took a breath, then another, then another, until finally the day was over.

I was so relieved when the day was over.

It's so hard not to relive the day she died over and over as my birthday progresses. It's hard not to think, "At this point of that day, we were driving to the funeral home to make the arrangements." or "At this time, we were telling the kids their mom was gone."

It was the worst day of my life. And I don't know how to handle it yet. So I just go through the motions and white-knuckle it until my birthday is over. Honestly, I kind of hate having a birthday now.

But! The next day was the blood drive. I was busy all day with preparations, then running the drive, then cleaning up. I got to see so many wonderful and kind people. So many people care enough to either come to donate, or come to visit during the drive. I feel so purposeful during the blood drive. I feel like maybe some good has come out of Sue's death.

We collected 35 pints of blood, saving up to 105 lives (and as I know from Sue's situation, we could also be prolonging the life of many people's sisters--this is my favorite thought as I watch the blood bags fill up). We had 4 first-time donors, and we collected $225 for a donation to the Red Cross in Sue's name (raised by a silent auction of my mom's quilts).

I made it. I lived through another birthday/anniversary of Sue's death. I ran another successful blood drive in her memory.

This is starting to feel like something I can conquer, year after year.

Sue, meeting my youngest for the first time, 2009

That One Summer

We would lie on the dock, beach towels protecting our backs from the cracking, peeling paint and splintered wood. She would bring out her tape player so we could sing along to our "jams". We would talk and talk, about our family, our hopes, and our secrets, or sometimes about nothing and nonsense. 

We spoke our own inner language, which consisted of so many inside jokes that at times an eavesdropper would be left wondering how any of our words fit together to make sense. 

We were always laughing. It was always just so FUNNY, those shared memories that could be brought forth with a single word, or sometimes even just a gesture.

We would have cold Diet Pepsi, one for her and one for me, sitting between us. An opened bag of Cheetos would lie there, too, haphazardly spilling a Cheeto or two onto the dock. 

We would watch the boys on jet skis or boats and wonder out loud if there might be a cute older brother/younger brother set among them. They were too far away to judge their cuteness, though.

The sun would bleach our hair and tan our skin. When it got too hot, we would hop off the end of the dock, landing in the cool water, our feet touching sand with little patches of tickling seaweed. We would dunk under, wet our hair, flip or twist it just so, and stand back up to reveal fancy supermodel hair, or The George Washington, or a giant handheld Mohawk. 

As the sun would dip just slightly below the trees, we would know that Dad would be back at the house, making us some dinner. We would jump in and back out one last time, gather our empty bottles, Cheetos, and radio, damp towels wound around our bodies, and walk home.

Choices

It was a rough drive to the hospital. Every bump in the road caused her to cringe or yell out. She told me to take my foot off both the gas pedal AND the brake to make the jostling just a little easier on her.

"I don't know why it helps," she told me, "It just does."

It was terrifying, knowing that how I navigated each dip or rough spot on the road directly affected her pain level. My arms ached from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

I sat in the waiting room with a book. We were there to see if they could get her some relief by draining some of the fluid from her abdomen. There was a lot of it, it caused her immense pain, and it was one of many parts of her body that was slowly, horrifyingly, getting worse.

The lady at the desk called me over. 

"They are ready for you to go see her. Room 6-B."

She was joking with a nurse when I walked in. When she told me that they didn't do the procedure, they couldn't do the procedure, because what everyone thought was fluid was actually her own organs, painfully enlarged, I needed to remind myself to breathe. 

We had reached a point where the doctors and nurses at the hospital couldn't help her. She was too sick.

I was shaking. I asked her, in as calm and normal of a voice as I could produce, "What do you want to do now?"

She took a deep breath, smiled, and said, "Let's grab some lunch!" 

I navigated her and her wheelchair through a sea of hospital workers. We needed to see all possible lunch options at the hospital cafeteria before we could make our selections. I rolled her past Saran wrapped sandwiches on paper plates, "No," she said.

I pointed out the pizza station, where the sad, droopy slivers sat waiting under heat lamps to be chosen. "No way, not pizza." She replied.

I steered her around the soup and salad bar, naming off the items that she couldn't see from her chair. 

"Let's see, there are black olives, chickpeas, some kind of cheese, maybe cheddar?" I reported.

"Chickpeas? Cheddar? Olives? Let's DO THIS!" She smiled.

We spent a considerable amount of time building her the perfect salad, with the perfect soup to go with it. We were a clumsy pair, her with trying to reach and assemble her salad from the chair, me with trying not to run over hospital workers with my less-than-stellar wheelchair steering skills. We bumped (and apologized), we dropped toppings, we laughed too loudly, we took too long making our choices. But when we were done, we had made it just how she wanted.

We got settled into a table and took a breath. 

"You have no idea how good it feels to have all of these choices," she said, taking a fork-full of salad. 

"I honestly can't remember the last time I got a chance to choose every part of what I ate and get it set up just how I want it. Thanks for doing that for me. I know it wasn't easy, but I'm so happy with this lunch! Perfection!"

I sat and stared at her for a moment, struck by how, over the past few years every single choice had been taken from her by her illness. She couldn't choose to be the wife and mom she wanted to be. She couldn't choose to make dinner for her family. She couldn't even choose to stand up and walk to the bathroom when she wanted. There was only one thing I could think of that she could still choose and she had chosen it that day. 

She had chosen to smile and be thankful.

I'm smiling today, remembering this particular day, and feeling thankful that she was mine. She was my friend, my sister, my role model. And I am who I am because of what she taught me.

Thoughts on Graduation

Sue's oldest child graduated from high school last night. It was so emotionally draining that I'm spending some time resting this morning. It was a wonderful night, and I was so proud. I'm not sure I've ever felt quite so proud. However, when facing happy life events, the grief is always there too.

All day yesterday I was humming a line from an old Queen song that says "pain is so close to pleasure". I understand what that line means now. I'll try to explain my pain/pleasure: 

I am SO PROUD of Sue's boy! So much pleasure! But Sue would be proud too, and she's not here to see this. PAIN. Look what he has accomplished! He has such a bright future ahead! More pleasure! But she will miss all of it. Ouch.

It's hard to put into words how daunting it is to think of all the milestones we have ahead: more graduations, first big jobs, weddings, babies, holidays. She won't be here for any of them. Not one. She never even got to see any of her kids get a driver's license. 

But here I am, watching, enjoying, being a part of her kids' lives. Why am I here and she's not? Why did her body get sick and shut down and I'm healthy? 

I don't know.

I do know that one of my biggest goals in life is to step in and feel all the emotions she would feel. I will take the pain so I can have the pleasure. 

The pain is overwhelming. But so is the pleasure. 

Gettin' Stuff Done!

Well that was a whirlwind of a weekend! 

Friday night we had the Battle of the Books. We didn't win, but we had fun.  Then Joe, Natalie and I attended the church lock-in. It was an overnight activity with play practice, movie night, popcorn, a loud, rowdy game of hide and seek, and finally sleep for our youth group of 12-14 year olds. Natalie then spent the rest of the weekend with her cousin at college for Little Sibs Weekend, and Ben went to a birthday pool party for a friend. On Sunday we had church, an Easter egg hunt, Sam went to a friend's house, Joe and I grocery shopped, and Natalie came home. Honestly, I was completely exhausted by last night.

Since I was at the Lock-in, I didn't get to do my Saturday morning walk.  I did do my run on Friday morning though! (That might have been part of why I was so exhausted by about 10 pm at the lock-in!)

Today, after getting all the kids dropped off at school, I went straight to the gym and did my run. I wasn't really wanting to, in fact I was downright crabby. But once I was on the treadmill it was okay.  

I made a good food decision by having a reasonable lunch. I nurtured myself by going to my therapy appointment (during which it was pointed out to me that I'm not doing a very good job nurturing myself--more in that in a later post).

I'm tired and ready for bed. Tomorrow I'll have yoga, and I'm already looking forward to it!

Goodnight!

Ready For Battle

Guess where I am! I'm at our very last middle school Battle of the Books meeting! This is good news for a few reasons:

1.  Our big battle, the thing we have been working toward since November, is tomorrow!

2. We are making team t-shirts tonight! So exciting!

3. I'm really super tired of being the Battle of the Books team leader. I'm really, really over it.  (Oops, this doesn't count as good news I guess)

4. I repeat: it will all be over tomorrow!

Today went well, mostly. I took the day off from exercise, and that made me happy. I got a lot of stuff crossed off my to-do list, which also makes me happy. I didn't make any good food decisions. I ate lunch at Wendy's and got a chicken sandwich with fries. I guess I could have gotten two chicken sandwiches and two orders of fries, so I guess we can count that, right?

I didn't nurture myself today either. I'm not doing so well with that goal lately. Tomorrow probably won't be any better though, because it's going to be a BUSY one. In fact I'm not sure I'll have time to post tomorrow night. I'm chaperoning an overnight kids' activity at church (and that's after the battle of the books). 

Tomorrow is my running day, though, and I definitely will be doing that first thing.  

Have a good night, and wish me luck!