So.. lately I've been fighting a lot of demons that hiss at me constantly about past mistakes I've made and try to drag me down and tell me to give up. They are particularly fond of reminding me of things I can't begin to correct and tell me I'm a bad person because of them.
Driving home the other night, my focus was on these demons and how exhausting it is to fight them when the gas light went on so I stopped at the gas station. After I pumped the gas I realized I had locked myself out of the car-- even my phone was inside.
Awesome, Mel.. juuuuuust awesome.
After a few moments of going back and forth between contemplating punching the window in (it was one of THOSE days) and trying to unlock the doors Matilda-style by staring super hard at the locks, I went inside to use the phone.
Minutes later, a guy from a towing company showed up to help. He was an older man who told me he had five kids and we swapped funny kid stories while he worked his magic to break into the car. He unlocked the door and as it popped open (and I could swear angels were singing), I reached for my wallet to ask how much I owed him.
He looked at me with a smile and said, "Nothing.. call it a 'good deed'.. and maybe pass it on."
After thanking him a million times and trying in vain to get him to take money anyway, I got to thinking about the movie Pay It Forward as I drove home. I've seen it several times.. and highly recommend it.. but I've never thought about putting something like it to practice in my own life.
The more I thought about that movie and the guy that had helped me.. the more I realized how necessary it was implement this into not just mine but my kids' lives. I decided that every day, every single day, no matter what.. I'd do one random act of kindness. Just like he had done for me.
See, the thing is.. I've made a lot of mistakes. I'm not even kinda going to sit here and pretend like I haven't. I'm not a devil (well, haha, opinions may vary depending on who you talk to :D), I'm not an angel, I'm just.. human. It is a constant struggle to do the right thing.. for everyone. You can sit there and be as self-righteous as you want.. you can love me or hate me for the things I have or haven't done, but the truth is-- we all mess up. It's the human condition. As a disclaimer, I'm not trying to justify any of my own mistakes or say we can all run around doing literally whatever we want without consequences as long as we own up to doing crappy things. Not at all.
Our purpose, however, isn't to judge other people for what they've done.. it's to do our best to pay good things forward to family, friends, neighbors.. even total strangers. One totally random act of kindness can ignite endless amounts of goodness to be passed from person to person. On the flip side,
once you let the demons win-- it will spread like wildfire too. To family, friends, neighbors, total strangers.. everyone. It's important to remember that whatever you do-- even the smallest act-- it will create a domino effect capable of tremendous results-- for good or bad.
Like I've said before.. I'd be lying if I tried to say I've never messed up majorly. The great thing though, is that you can start over anytime you want. You can begin today.. RIGHT NOW.. with the intent to be accountable for any badness you've inflicted. My way of looking at it is that God made us.. He KNOWS we're going to screw up.. but he also knows the greatness we're capable of. Someday.. every single one of us is going to be accountable for the bad things we've done.. as well as the good. So if you're a saint, I guess you've got nothing to worry about. ;) However, if you fall into the 'sinner' category like I do-- that thought may make you cringe a bit.
As far as 'random acts of kindness' goes.. they don't have to be HUGE. It can be something as simple as putting an elderly neighbor's paper on her porch so she doesn't have to trudge down to the mailbox on a cold morning.. or making brownies for someone who is generally pretty grouchy.. or sending a little anonymous gift to a sibling.. or look up your favorite elementary school teacher and send her a box of chocolate.. or writing a handwritten letter to an awesome old friend from crazy teenager years, reliving hilarious memories of times you had together.
It doesn't have to cost a lot of money.. or ANY. Sometimes, what people REALLY need.. is for you to ask how they're doing and actually take time to LISTEN, not just ask the words. You'd be surprised how many people are just lonely.. and need someone to talk to. I know everyone's schedules are insane, particularly this time of year, but if you can't take the time to really talk with someone and LISTEN to them and be able to connect with them.. well, you're kinda missing out on the point of this whole 'living' thing.
The other morning, the kids and I randomly chose a house to leave flowers on the doorstep. As we drove away, Anna's eyebrows scrunched together and she stared intently out the window.
I asked her what she was thinking about and she said, "Shouldn't we wait to see how much they like the flowers?"
I explained to her the whole point of 'random acts of kindness' is to sometimes choose people who we've never met.. to get outside our little circle of friends and family and reach out to someone who is a stranger in hopes that they'll do the same thing. By paying it forward they say 'thank you,' just like I'm doing to that man that helped break into my car.. not to mention countless other times people have helped me when they didn't have to.
I want to teach my children that when you do good things.. you shouldn't be doing it for yourself. For instance, isn't it awesome to give a gift to a friend? You see the smile on their face and how thankful they are-- you know their happiness is a direct result of something you've done.. and it makes you feel good. (Not to say you shouldn't do fabulous things for your friends and family whenever you can.. you definitely should. Personally, they're my favorite kind of 'good deeds.') The most significant kind of good deed though, in my opinion, is when they're done anonymously. To do good and not expect a 'thank you' or not being there to see the smile cross someone' face and be able to take credit for it-- that's what the 'pay it forward' idea is all about. It's not about YOU, it's about sending GOOD into the world.
I LOVE what this idea teaches my kids. I don't want to expose a lot of the things we've done because it takes away from the idea but it's amazing to see it through Patrick, Anna and Ella's eyes. Sending a gingerbread house kit to a kid who I know has a less-than-great home life.. putting together little jars of cocoa powder topped with marshmallows, tied up with bows and left on the porch of a family who needs cheering up.. sending a gift card to someone that can use help buying Christmas presents for their family-- they're all little things.. but they have the power to change someone's frame of mind and remind them that while there's a lot of bad in the world, there's a lot more good. And you, my pretties, are capable of sending all kinds of goodness into the world.
I'm not telling you about this for some kind of pat on the back, I'm doing it in hopes that YOU will do the same thing. The kids and I bought little tiny stockings to to send along with our 'good deeds' containing notes that promote the 'pay it forward' idea so maybe.. just maybe.. those who receive them will do the same thing.
How cool is it that you have the power to totally turn someone's day around?
What's that quote from the Lorax? (I know it by heart thanks to Ella watching it 857 times!)
"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing's going to get better. It's not."
Yikes, this blog is turning into a book :D So Happy Holidays.. pay it forward.. because in case you haven't noticed-- we live in a world that needs it!
Muah! xoxo.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
{Dear Matt}
The fourteenth of October was the second anniversary of the day Matt died.. so I sat down and wrote him a letter. Simply because.. sometimes writing is the only way of dealing with missing him.
Dear Matt,
Two years-- it seems like an ETERNITY since we last drank coffee and talked. On the other hand, I can recall our last conversation in a heartbeat. I've said it so many times but.. you wouldn't believe the lengths I would go to talk with you just once more.
It's hard to believe everything that's happened and changed since you died.
On the way home from class a couple weeks ago, I zoned out and suddenly found myself parked in front of your old house. The FOR SALE sign glaring at me from the front lawn, it had been a couple of months since I'd been there. Whether it was too surreal or too real to be there I can't be sure. All it took was stepping onto the driveway to flashback to the night you died.
Clear as day I could hear, "Ma'am? Are you a relative?" The crunching of the leaves echoed hauntingly in my memory and the October wind swirled around me as I clawed at the air, fighting the paramedic who restrained me from running to your body. The image of Dad and Mom's faces surfaced, filled with a devastation I'd never seen before. The dread of knowing Mike would be there in minutes and feel the same crushing heartbreak I was feeling was excruciating.
"He's gone, Mel, he's gone," Dad repeated as his voice trembled. Looking back, I think he was saying it to himself as well as myself, struggling to wrap his mind around the horrific blow that had been delivered.
Next were flashes of sitting in the ambulance, shivering and vomiting. Oh, the vomiting. I thought it would never end.
The flashback was interrupted by a voice behind me, "Can I help you?"
I turned to see a real estate agent standing, paperwork in hand, with a warm smile on her face.
Before I could answer she asked, "Are you interested in taking a look inside the house?"
Pain wriggled through me as I hesitantly replied, "Yeah, I am."
I could've told her then my brother had passed away and this was his house but I just wanted to walk through it without having her eyes locked on me in pity the entire time.
She walked toward the garage and opened the door. Stepping through the doorway, I felt my heart skip.
"As you can see, this is the garage.." and I'm sure she said some other things too but my own thoughts were too loud to listen to her.
I know this is the garage, lady, my brother died in here, I wanted to snap at her. I bit my tongue and nodded.
She led me through the house and, by the end of the tour, I'm quite sure she thought I was nuts. I couldn't help but stare into each room and reminisce and just try to feel your presence there again.
No matter where I go, I run into people that knew you or knew of you.
So often I find myself delving into the past and reliving memories of you. Just for the record.. whoever said this would get easier is a total idiot. It doesn't.. it gets WORSE.
It's so hard to believe that Grandma will be gone soon. She'll be.. with you. I'm going to miss her so much. During the last conversation I had with her she said she couldn't wait to see you again.. and Tommy.. and Lisa.. and Grandpa. She'll get to meet Anne Marie's little baby Tina.. and my Harper & Paxton. A pang of jealousy shot through me as I told her to give you all hugs and kisses. I would LOVE to be able to see you give her a hug when she gets to Heaven.
She squeezed my hand and said, "Don't worry.. before you know it we'll all be together again." I, of course, lost it at that point and started bawling. Is it weird I wish we could fast forward to that day?! To when we can all be in one place.. with no more tears, no more goodbyes.. just lots of love and laughter. (You'll know me-- I'll be the one that won't stop hugging you. Remember how I used to hang onto you and never leave your side when we were little? You can look forward to that all over again! :P)
How crazy is it that you've held two of my babies before I've even met them? Knowing you would be up there, rocking them and taking care of them.. was the only thing that consoled me after losing them. Given their DNA, I'm sure 'double trouble' doesn't begin to cover them, does it? :) I doubt they ever go very far from you. Thank you for taking care of them until I get there.
You'd be so proud of Mike. You wouldn't BELIEVE what he's had to overcome these past two years. Gina, Isabel and Julia are so big. Gina is ten.. TEN!!! Doesn't it seem like she was a tiny baby like five minutes ago?! Mike is so good with them.. but that's nothing new.
You saw firsthand what he endured through the years. It's an absolute miracle he has emerged from that situation being good-hearted and without bitterness. He's happy now.. but he misses you a lot. He and I have never been closer than we are now. I know I could never take the place in his heart reserved for you, nor would I ever try. It kills me though, to see how deep his grief for you goes.. and there's nothing I can do about it.
He wrote me a note when we were in church a couple weeks ago that made me cry like a baby. There was a little space between the two of us and his note said, "Matt is sitting in between us, Mellie. Isn't that good to think about?" He thinks about you constantly. I worry about him because he's gotten so good at being tough.
Dad and Mom are doing pretty good. They have good and bad days of course. You are always, always on their minds. I can see it in their eyes. Even when we're not talking about you.. we are missing you. The grief hangs in the air. Some days we cope better than others but it's always just.. there.
Patrick, Anna and Ella are getting so big! Hard to believe Ella was only six months old when you died. She talks about you EVERY day though. She'll walk up to a picture of you and just talk and talk.. like you guys are having a conversation or something. Anna has vowed to learn to play the guitar "just like Uncle Matt" and Patrick wants to hear stories about when we were little every night when I tuck him in. They love you lots!
Since your death-- Dad, Mom, Mike and I-- we are so much stronger. We're already bound together as a family but the grief and love for you has made us all so much closer. I really believe your parting gift to us was to ignite a fire in each of us to love each other no matter what, to stick up for each other through thick and thin.
I'm taking EMT classes now. I've never told anyone this but.. since the night you died, I have a panic attack every time I hear a ambulance siren. So I forced myself to take these classes. I literally find myself grabbing onto the table in front of me when the instructor talks about asthma and airway emergencies. Hits too close to home. I can't wait to be a paramedic though.. I think you'd be proud of me.
I fell in love with your best friend. I'm sure that makes you chuckle.. you know how difficult and stubborn I am. He can put up a pretty good fight too though. :) He makes me laugh SO hard. Long before he and I were what we are now.. he was the one that was there for me and helped me through the impossible. One thing I love about him is how loyal he is to you-- in life and death. We have been through some NONSENSE together (by 'nonsense' I am doing some hardcore censoring).. and I'm really looking forward to the future.
I've learned so much the past couple of years. Sometimes I get so sad wishing I could talk things over with you and you'd be here to reassure me things will be ok. I swear sometimes I can actually feel you with me and there is a moment of total peace. I just have to realize you ARE here with us.. but in a different way now.
I love you to the moon & back!
--Mellie
p.s. Thanks for the rainbow at the race! :)
Monday, April 30, 2012
smoke and mirrors
We've all got demons. They take shape in different forms and present themselves in different ways.
My most ferocious demon wasn't drugs or drinking.. but it proved to be as heartbreakingly methodical as those addictions are.
I truly believe God allows us to live through horrible experiences --of all kinds-- so that afterwards we can help others that are going through the same thing. It's one thing to escape a demon.. it's quite another to get yourself together enough to talk about it honestly. I've found much of the time it's only when you open up and help someone else dealing with the same issues that you can get past them yourself. If I could help one person.. just ONE.. claw their way out of what I went through.. it would make it all worthwhile.
Of course worrying about what other people think is a huge hurdle to get past but you have to look beyond yourself and see the bigger picture. One where you can help others that are struggling. After all, our ability to help one another is part of what makes us human and it's silly to get caught up with what other people think.
So here goes... this is the intro of the book I'm writing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She is my oldest and darkest nemesis.
I could feel her presence rising up from where she had lay dormant for so long. The precautions I had taken so many years ago to keep her from finding me failed miserably against the stress that triggered her return. With the sensation of total chaos choking me, her dead embers flickered to life once again.
Like a freight train screaming in the distance, I heard her speeding towards me. No where to run, no place to hide, it was only a matter of time until she found me.
Hands in my pockets, eyes welling with tears, I bit my lip as hard as I could to keep from crying. I could not show her how scared I was. Fear had been building for too long, dreading she would find me. In a very twisted way, a rush of relief ran through me knowing she had, in fact, found me.. the chase was over. Now I had no choice but to confront my worst nightmare.
I slowly turned around, heart thudding in my chest. It wasn't a question of whether she'd be standing there, I knew she would be. After years of being haunted by her there was no mistaking her presence. My terror arose from not knowing if I would be strong enough to resist her throwing me head first down the rabbit hole.. again.
She had seen me at my weakest and I had experienced first-hand her extreme power.
There she was.. in all her glory. Like a long lost love, I could feel the old spark between us pulling at my heart. Time hadn't touched her glittering beauty, she was flawless. It wasn't hard to remember the initial comfort that accompanied the first time I curled up in her arms. The sense of control and power she handed me was unforgettable.
Do not be fooled.. it's an illusion. It's nothing but smoke and mirrors.
She is black ice that will send you reeling into twisted madness.
You see, what she will neglect to tell you is that this power will be all in your head. In reality, she will strip you of all control and meaning, turning you into a statistic. Don't kid yourself into letting her tell you you're invincible with her by your side. You will be the epitome of fragile.
Once she casts her spell and leaves you entangled in her web, hopelessly in love with a lie, she will begin to unveil her true identity. Her charm will decay rapidly and in her place will be the most diabolical, wicked demon you could imagine (think-- Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty on steroids, multiplied by a million).
She isn't a drug but if she were.. she'd be heroin. My heroin. She is nothing but a crutch.. a way of thinking to propel you through times of extreme stress. Once you've been bitten, it's hard to not fall back into her ways time and time again, no matter how badly you want out.. like slipping into an old familiar shoe.
All at once, like a tsunami slamming against the coast, I heard her melodic voice rippling through me.
"I'm back," her haunting whisper echoed in my ears as her blood red lips twisted upward in a wicked grin.
My blood turned ice cold and fear ricocheted through me like a pinball.
After being so terrified for so long that this moment would come, here it was. She was back.
Then something miraculous happened. I felt.. anger. Hot, seething rage boiled up from my toes as I recalled the years she had overshadowed and the pain I had endured because of her. Looking at her now, I did not only see her dazzling beauty but also the suffering she caused.. and would cause if I couldn't defeat her.
No longer was I the wide-eyed innocent that was lured into her trap so many years ago.
There would be no game playing this time around. No sweet, seductive promises. She was going right for the jugular, knowing all of my weaknesses and insecurities.
I am so thankful for that fury I felt towards her. In the end, it helped save me.
Anger isn't always a bad thing. It can ignite a fire in you that you never knew existed. One of my favorite sayings is, "The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire."
Anger can give you the strength to stand up against demons that would otherwise crush you.
This time around I had an arsenal of weapons she hadn't taken into account. She wasn't attacking a defenseless and impressionable teenager this time. I was stronger now. The past years had hardened me and slapped me around enough to be able to look her dead in the eye and decide to fight.
This time around, I was a mother. her seductive lies and incredible power over me were no match for the love and instinct in me to protect my children. She would never, never have any influence over their lives.
The first time I became a mom, I remember looking at my son and sobbing because I had finally found an emotion-- a love --that could trump anything. In that moment I knew he had saved me and gave me a reason to fight should she return.
The battle I was going into wouldn't be fought for me. It would be fought for my kids.. and when I was thrown into the arena with her again, I swore to myself I would go in fighting with everything I had. There would be no "learning to live with her" or evading her. I knew I would have to destroy her.. once and for all.
She didn't consider the guardian angel I had whispering in my ear. My memory of Matt's voice has always been gentle and calm but when I stood there, gazing at her and the beautiful insanity that swirled around her, his voice flashed into my mind, harshly, "Don't you dare even think about it." I took a step back.
She wants to be kept a secret. So it's just you and her.. because if she can keep you quiet, she can continue to torture you. She will instill a self-hatred in you that will turn your world upside-down. Trust me, there's nothing she enjoys more than to watch you suffer. She wants you to rely on her completely, tells you she will be your crutch and you will need no one else. She will be your dirty little secret and in return, she will promise you limitless power.
Her worst fear is for you to show her for what she is.. and possibly keep someone from falling prey to her insanity in the process. I knew I had to bring her to light to destroy her for good.
This is the story of how I fought the smoke and mirrors.. and won.
My most ferocious demon wasn't drugs or drinking.. but it proved to be as heartbreakingly methodical as those addictions are.
I truly believe God allows us to live through horrible experiences --of all kinds-- so that afterwards we can help others that are going through the same thing. It's one thing to escape a demon.. it's quite another to get yourself together enough to talk about it honestly. I've found much of the time it's only when you open up and help someone else dealing with the same issues that you can get past them yourself. If I could help one person.. just ONE.. claw their way out of what I went through.. it would make it all worthwhile.
Of course worrying about what other people think is a huge hurdle to get past but you have to look beyond yourself and see the bigger picture. One where you can help others that are struggling. After all, our ability to help one another is part of what makes us human and it's silly to get caught up with what other people think.
So here goes... this is the intro of the book I'm writing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She is my oldest and darkest nemesis.
I could feel her presence rising up from where she had lay dormant for so long. The precautions I had taken so many years ago to keep her from finding me failed miserably against the stress that triggered her return. With the sensation of total chaos choking me, her dead embers flickered to life once again.
Like a freight train screaming in the distance, I heard her speeding towards me. No where to run, no place to hide, it was only a matter of time until she found me.
Hands in my pockets, eyes welling with tears, I bit my lip as hard as I could to keep from crying. I could not show her how scared I was. Fear had been building for too long, dreading she would find me. In a very twisted way, a rush of relief ran through me knowing she had, in fact, found me.. the chase was over. Now I had no choice but to confront my worst nightmare.
I slowly turned around, heart thudding in my chest. It wasn't a question of whether she'd be standing there, I knew she would be. After years of being haunted by her there was no mistaking her presence. My terror arose from not knowing if I would be strong enough to resist her throwing me head first down the rabbit hole.. again.
She had seen me at my weakest and I had experienced first-hand her extreme power.
There she was.. in all her glory. Like a long lost love, I could feel the old spark between us pulling at my heart. Time hadn't touched her glittering beauty, she was flawless. It wasn't hard to remember the initial comfort that accompanied the first time I curled up in her arms. The sense of control and power she handed me was unforgettable.
Do not be fooled.. it's an illusion. It's nothing but smoke and mirrors.
She is black ice that will send you reeling into twisted madness.
You see, what she will neglect to tell you is that this power will be all in your head. In reality, she will strip you of all control and meaning, turning you into a statistic. Don't kid yourself into letting her tell you you're invincible with her by your side. You will be the epitome of fragile.
Once she casts her spell and leaves you entangled in her web, hopelessly in love with a lie, she will begin to unveil her true identity. Her charm will decay rapidly and in her place will be the most diabolical, wicked demon you could imagine (think-- Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty on steroids, multiplied by a million).
She isn't a drug but if she were.. she'd be heroin. My heroin. She is nothing but a crutch.. a way of thinking to propel you through times of extreme stress. Once you've been bitten, it's hard to not fall back into her ways time and time again, no matter how badly you want out.. like slipping into an old familiar shoe.
All at once, like a tsunami slamming against the coast, I heard her melodic voice rippling through me.
"I'm back," her haunting whisper echoed in my ears as her blood red lips twisted upward in a wicked grin.
My blood turned ice cold and fear ricocheted through me like a pinball.
After being so terrified for so long that this moment would come, here it was. She was back.
Then something miraculous happened. I felt.. anger. Hot, seething rage boiled up from my toes as I recalled the years she had overshadowed and the pain I had endured because of her. Looking at her now, I did not only see her dazzling beauty but also the suffering she caused.. and would cause if I couldn't defeat her.
No longer was I the wide-eyed innocent that was lured into her trap so many years ago.
There would be no game playing this time around. No sweet, seductive promises. She was going right for the jugular, knowing all of my weaknesses and insecurities.
I am so thankful for that fury I felt towards her. In the end, it helped save me.
Anger isn't always a bad thing. It can ignite a fire in you that you never knew existed. One of my favorite sayings is, "The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire."
Anger can give you the strength to stand up against demons that would otherwise crush you.
This time around I had an arsenal of weapons she hadn't taken into account. She wasn't attacking a defenseless and impressionable teenager this time. I was stronger now. The past years had hardened me and slapped me around enough to be able to look her dead in the eye and decide to fight.
This time around, I was a mother. her seductive lies and incredible power over me were no match for the love and instinct in me to protect my children. She would never, never have any influence over their lives.
The first time I became a mom, I remember looking at my son and sobbing because I had finally found an emotion-- a love --that could trump anything. In that moment I knew he had saved me and gave me a reason to fight should she return.
The battle I was going into wouldn't be fought for me. It would be fought for my kids.. and when I was thrown into the arena with her again, I swore to myself I would go in fighting with everything I had. There would be no "learning to live with her" or evading her. I knew I would have to destroy her.. once and for all.
She didn't consider the guardian angel I had whispering in my ear. My memory of Matt's voice has always been gentle and calm but when I stood there, gazing at her and the beautiful insanity that swirled around her, his voice flashed into my mind, harshly, "Don't you dare even think about it." I took a step back.
She wants to be kept a secret. So it's just you and her.. because if she can keep you quiet, she can continue to torture you. She will instill a self-hatred in you that will turn your world upside-down. Trust me, there's nothing she enjoys more than to watch you suffer. She wants you to rely on her completely, tells you she will be your crutch and you will need no one else. She will be your dirty little secret and in return, she will promise you limitless power.
Her worst fear is for you to show her for what she is.. and possibly keep someone from falling prey to her insanity in the process. I knew I had to bring her to light to destroy her for good.
This is the story of how I fought the smoke and mirrors.. and won.
Friday, October 14, 2011
one year later
There is a giant concrete culvert that runs under the road leading to my parent's house, water running through it. On either side, there are thick woods and of course, the creek that winds and bends through all the trees. That culvert (my brothers and I referred to it as "the concrete pipe") is about four feet in diameter-- big enough for kids to run through if they're crouching.. and about fifty feet long.
The first time I ran through it will always be ingrained in mind, especially now, since it was with Matt. That memory has been tumbling around in my head recently.
Matt was ten years old and I was five. He was sick and had been home for a week, which was not unusual for him. I hadn't started Kindergarten yet so I was so happy for him to be home with me. We'd lay around watching movies, playing Legos and building forts.
My parents were of course very concerned about Matt when he was sick and usually didn't want him running around outside, afraid it would cause his asthma to flair up, sending him into an attack.
We got restless one afternoon though and I remember after eating lunch, we told my mom we were going to play downstairs.
Once we got down there, Matt looked at me and grinned, "Wanna play in the woods?" I grinned back-- as if he even had to ask. We snuck out the sliding door and made a dash for the bank that led down into the woods. We caught countless frogs and splashed through the creek until we were soaking wet head to toe.
We followed the winding creek until we reached the culvert. I stopped for a moment and scrunched up my nose. I had never gone through it before and let's be honest.. I was five and it was a dark, scary tunnel that I was quite certain contained spiders. Nevertheless, it had become a rite of passage in our neighborhood for kids to run through it so I slowly inched towards it.
Matt climbed up the slippery rocks leading to the opening and looked back, noticing my hesitation. "Come on, Mellie, it's not hard. Grab my hand and I'll show you how to do it."
I reached up and he pulled me into the opening of the pipe and we stood staring down the tunnel into the darkness to the light that shone brightly on the other side.
Straddling the water that runs down the middle of the culvert, you have to crouch down and shift your weight back and forth from one leg to the other so you not only keep moving down the pipe but you also don't fall into the water. Matt did it effortlessly and I, of course, had to fall in once before I could get the hang of it. As we reached the middle of the tunnel I tried not to think about the darkness and the spiders and the overall creepiness of being under the road.
I stopped and looked behind me. Was that a spiderweb that had just gotten stuck in my hair? And oh.. my.. gosh.. was that a SPIDER crawling on the wall two inches from my face?! The claustrophobia set in and started choking me.
I looked forward again and Matt was no where to be seen. Gone. I was all alone in this horrible, dark, spider-y tunnel of doom.
I panicked. "Matt?" My timid little voice echoed off the concrete in unison with the dripping water.
My brother's face popped into view from the circular opening at the tunnel's end. He grinned and motioned for me to keep going. "Come on, Mellie, keep going. Just like I showed you. You're almost here."
Taking a deep breath and ducking down, I went as fast as I could towards my brother and away from the darkness.
I can remember him smiling and taking my hand, pulling me out to land on the other side of the woods. "You did it!"
Twenty-two years later, I feel like I'm back in the middle of the concrete pipe. Alone. Scared. Listening to the dripping water and hearing my own pulse as it drums loudly against my temples.
My throat feels raw and tears are in my eyes as I whisper, "Matt?"
There is nothing but silence now. An empty echo of pain that ricochets and slams right back into me.
I know he is there, but it's not the same. I know he can see us and watches us, cheers us on and is the one whispering in my ear to do the right thing. I believe he keeps a special watch over his nephew and nieces. It's all so different now though, nothing is the same. I so badly wish for him to be here and take me by the hand like when we were little kids and help me over and through obstacles that seem so daunting in life.
One year. Seems like an eternity and yet it's passed in the blink of eye. Sometimes in the middle of the night I'll wake up and hear those words fluttering in my mind, those horrible words from that night, that have been stamped like a hot iron into my memory from the phone call telling me he was dead.
Oh Matt, if only you were here. Lately I've been thankful you don't have to deal with the devastation that has tore through our family like wildfire over the past twelve months. The dark, twisted heartbreak that has slithered into every facet of our lives. I'm thankful there are no tears where you are now.
"And if you were with me tonight / I'd sing to you just one more time / A song for a heart so big / God couldn't let it live.." ~Jimmy Eat World
This past year has hardened me in ways I never could have imagined. I like to think I have a decent sense of humor and up until last October, I had a pretty carefree way of viewing the world but since then, due to all of the pain and heartache, it's a fight to find those moments where laughter turns to a cackle and eyes twinkle with excitement. Life has a way of beating the rough edges off of people but.. if you're not careful.. it can also strip you of your innocence and smother your spark of wonder and child-like excitement for your hopes and dreams in life.
Matt drove a blue Trailerblazer and I see them EVERYWHERE now. Last month one appeared in my rear view mirror and it wasn't just the vehicle, but the driver also resembled my brother. I looked up just in time to slam on the brakes so I didn't rear-end the person stopped in front of me. The man in the Trailblazer pulled up next to me and I know he for SURE thought I was crazy because I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye. I knew, of course, that he was not my brother, but being able to see someone that could've been his twin-- running his fingers through his hair, drinking coffee, full of life, made my heart skip a beat and was oddly comforting, if only for a moment.
There are so many things I wish I could tell Matt now. I wish I could show him my rooster tattoo (Although I can totally picture him laughing his signature laugh, running his thumb and forefinger along his jawline, turning his head to the side and inspecting my forearm and us smirking about all the people that were so horrified of my getting a tattoo. "Keep 'em on their toes, little sis," is what he'd said to me so many times throughout the years.) I wish I could tell him that Ella grips the guitar pick that hangs from around my neck in her little fist when I rock her to sleep. Or how Anna will tell total strangers in the grocery store, "My Uncle Matt plays the guitar.. and he's in Heaven." (Although instead of "guitar" she calls it a " 'tar. " I know he'd get such a kick out of that.) Or the way Patrick prays at bedtime and asks to be able to see Uncle Matt again someday. I wish he could know my kids now.
Then I remember.. he does know them now. He does see them and all of us. He knows all the things I've wished I could tell him and I really think I can feel him at the grave sometimes when I'm there.
Every scar, every wound I've ever had has been ripped open this past year, completely exposed. The wound from my brother's death stands as one that will never heal, it will never have the chance to become a scar because it continually gushes pain. In truth, I don't want it to heal. To heal feels like betrayal to me. I'd much rather soak in an ocean of hurt in remembrance of him than heal.. and feel like I'm leaving him behind.
The grief over Matt's death has brought Lisa's death sharply back into focus. I understand now why people have trouble going to funerals after their loved one dies. It brings it all back.
It's hard to not see things in terms of death or as a tribute to my brother.. and Lisa.
This summer when I climbed onto the Millenium Force at Cedar Point with my niece (who by the way is fearless), it wasn't just her sweet smile or my love of rollercoasters that lured me onto the ride. I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that I'd be 310 feet closer to Matt and to Lisa. Was there some part of me that thought I'd find them on the top of that ride? Or was it the hope that maybe, just maybe, if I reached my arms up high enough I'd be able to brush hands with them.. even if only for a moment.
The last time I had ridden that ride was with Lisa. We were both nineteen. I remember scrunching my eyes closed as we reached the top of the first hill. The girl behind me screaming hysterically so I could tell when we were at the top. You know that moment right before you go flying down the hill when you reach the very top of the rollercoaster and it feels like you're totally still, almost like everything freezes? It was then that Lisa had leaned over to me and whispered, "Mellie, open your eyes."
Maybe it sounds hard to believe but eight years later, clicking to the top of that very same rollercoaster, I could still hear her saying that, like she was right there with me.
I miss Matt. I miss Lisa. Come on already, can't they just come back??
It's during the darkest times of your life that you find out who your true friends are. You'll be surprised by some people you considered friends that go running scared, unsure of how to react to the grief. Then there are those friends who reach out for your hand, to let you know they're there through thick and thin.. and there are new friends who come to stand beside you, who are so kind and thoughtful when they do not have to be.. and become your favorite friends and ones you can trust and depend on.
My intent isn't to turn this into some kind of morbid acceptance speech but there are some people that I'd like to thank for being amazing friends. They're my best friends, my A-list. I never would've had a chance of making it through this past year without them.
Amy Ridenour-Wilson-- She is my best friend. She is one of the kindest, most loyal people I've ever known. She can be a fierce unstoppable force when it comes to defending her family and I am so thankful I can consider her my sister. She laughs with me, cries with me and is pretty much the reason why someone came up with the saying, "God couldn't handle us as sisters, so he made us best friends." She is an awesome aunt to my kids and has stood by me every moment of this past year, even during some of my classic late-night emotional meltdowns. I am so thankful to have her in my life.
I love you, Amy.
Mike Tenniswood-- My big brother. One of the two best big brother's in the world. Over the past year I have become closer with him than ever. He understands what I'm feeling when no one else does. Not sure if it's some kind of ESP between siblings but we always know when the other is having a hard day and missing Matt so much. This year has been so hard on Mike, he and Matt were so close. I've always appreciated Mike and the big brother that he has been to me but these past months have made me so thankful to have someone I can really lean on and knows the searing pain of the death of a sibling. He is an amazing father to his three little girls and is such a strong individual.
I love you, Mike.
Lindsey Powers-- My Lindsey, my best friend, my BFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (but she's the only one that will understand that part :D). She's one of the strongest people I know and despite all that she has piled on her plate, she will drop everything to help me (or anyone for that matter). She's there when I need her --even at 2AM (and aren't those the BEST kind of friends??). She knows what truly soothes the soul -- ice cream, laughter and fifty feet of bubble wrap (If you've never went nuts with bubble wrap.. you should. It's unbelievably therapeutic.) I love her and am very thankful for her.
I love you, Lindsey.
Mike Smith-- My best buddy. His name has been a household favorite since I was two years old. He's been Matt's best friend since they were in second grade and has helped me navigate through the darkest days I've known. Mike is loyalty and compassion. He isn't loyal to my brother only in death.. but he was all through Matt's life. I can trust him with absolutely anything. When I'm heartbroken and drowning in grief he's the first dive in and bring me to the surface to catch my breath. Whether we're getting matching rooster tattoos, making our weekly trip to the grave or he's bringing me Taco Bell at midnight to cheer me up, one thing is for sure.. he's my best buddy. I know my brother smiles at the thought of me now being best friends with his best friend.
I love you, Mike.
Lisa Webb-- She comes from one of the most loving and big-hearted families I've ever met. I am confident she and her parents, sister, husband and daughters are among the most wonderful people on Earth. The empathy that radiates from Lisa is phenomenal. She's no fair-weather friend. She hasn't just been around for the fun stuff but she's willing to swim into the dark waters where I am found so often these days, to drag me back to shore. She's one of my "forever friends" and I'm very thankful for her.
I love you, Lisa.
There are countless others who have went out of their way to be SO kind and helpful and who, I am quite certain, we wouldn't have survived without.
When Patrick started preschool two years ago we went in not knowing anyone from the school to emerging with an *AMAZING* group of friends. The "preschool moms" (who I guess at some point I should start referring to as "Kindergarten moms," since that's what we are now) have no idea how much they mean to me and their support has been invaluable over the past year. Funny how total strangers morph into your favorite people. I love each one of you so much!
So ends the first year without my brother. Chapters have closed, doors have been slammed shut and irreparable damage has been done. I hate sounding like I'm having this giant pity party (well today I actually am but I mean on a regular basis) but.. it is what it is.
In dealing with tragedy, my eyes have been opened to what really matters. I would literally do anything to bring my brother back but in dealing with his death, it has changed the way I look at life.. and I mean that in a good way.
The people we love are what really matters. They are.. everything. Life is too short to spend it any other way than surrounded by the people you love.
I love you, Matt. We all miss you so much. Gone but never forgotten. Xoxo.
The first time I ran through it will always be ingrained in mind, especially now, since it was with Matt. That memory has been tumbling around in my head recently.
Matt was ten years old and I was five. He was sick and had been home for a week, which was not unusual for him. I hadn't started Kindergarten yet so I was so happy for him to be home with me. We'd lay around watching movies, playing Legos and building forts.
My parents were of course very concerned about Matt when he was sick and usually didn't want him running around outside, afraid it would cause his asthma to flair up, sending him into an attack.
We got restless one afternoon though and I remember after eating lunch, we told my mom we were going to play downstairs.
Once we got down there, Matt looked at me and grinned, "Wanna play in the woods?" I grinned back-- as if he even had to ask. We snuck out the sliding door and made a dash for the bank that led down into the woods. We caught countless frogs and splashed through the creek until we were soaking wet head to toe.
We followed the winding creek until we reached the culvert. I stopped for a moment and scrunched up my nose. I had never gone through it before and let's be honest.. I was five and it was a dark, scary tunnel that I was quite certain contained spiders. Nevertheless, it had become a rite of passage in our neighborhood for kids to run through it so I slowly inched towards it.
Matt climbed up the slippery rocks leading to the opening and looked back, noticing my hesitation. "Come on, Mellie, it's not hard. Grab my hand and I'll show you how to do it."
I reached up and he pulled me into the opening of the pipe and we stood staring down the tunnel into the darkness to the light that shone brightly on the other side.
Straddling the water that runs down the middle of the culvert, you have to crouch down and shift your weight back and forth from one leg to the other so you not only keep moving down the pipe but you also don't fall into the water. Matt did it effortlessly and I, of course, had to fall in once before I could get the hang of it. As we reached the middle of the tunnel I tried not to think about the darkness and the spiders and the overall creepiness of being under the road.
I stopped and looked behind me. Was that a spiderweb that had just gotten stuck in my hair? And oh.. my.. gosh.. was that a SPIDER crawling on the wall two inches from my face?! The claustrophobia set in and started choking me.
I looked forward again and Matt was no where to be seen. Gone. I was all alone in this horrible, dark, spider-y tunnel of doom.
I panicked. "Matt?" My timid little voice echoed off the concrete in unison with the dripping water.
My brother's face popped into view from the circular opening at the tunnel's end. He grinned and motioned for me to keep going. "Come on, Mellie, keep going. Just like I showed you. You're almost here."
Taking a deep breath and ducking down, I went as fast as I could towards my brother and away from the darkness.
I can remember him smiling and taking my hand, pulling me out to land on the other side of the woods. "You did it!"
Twenty-two years later, I feel like I'm back in the middle of the concrete pipe. Alone. Scared. Listening to the dripping water and hearing my own pulse as it drums loudly against my temples.
My throat feels raw and tears are in my eyes as I whisper, "Matt?"
There is nothing but silence now. An empty echo of pain that ricochets and slams right back into me.
I know he is there, but it's not the same. I know he can see us and watches us, cheers us on and is the one whispering in my ear to do the right thing. I believe he keeps a special watch over his nephew and nieces. It's all so different now though, nothing is the same. I so badly wish for him to be here and take me by the hand like when we were little kids and help me over and through obstacles that seem so daunting in life.
One year. Seems like an eternity and yet it's passed in the blink of eye. Sometimes in the middle of the night I'll wake up and hear those words fluttering in my mind, those horrible words from that night, that have been stamped like a hot iron into my memory from the phone call telling me he was dead.
Oh Matt, if only you were here. Lately I've been thankful you don't have to deal with the devastation that has tore through our family like wildfire over the past twelve months. The dark, twisted heartbreak that has slithered into every facet of our lives. I'm thankful there are no tears where you are now.
"And if you were with me tonight / I'd sing to you just one more time / A song for a heart so big / God couldn't let it live.." ~Jimmy Eat World
This past year has hardened me in ways I never could have imagined. I like to think I have a decent sense of humor and up until last October, I had a pretty carefree way of viewing the world but since then, due to all of the pain and heartache, it's a fight to find those moments where laughter turns to a cackle and eyes twinkle with excitement. Life has a way of beating the rough edges off of people but.. if you're not careful.. it can also strip you of your innocence and smother your spark of wonder and child-like excitement for your hopes and dreams in life.
Matt drove a blue Trailerblazer and I see them EVERYWHERE now. Last month one appeared in my rear view mirror and it wasn't just the vehicle, but the driver also resembled my brother. I looked up just in time to slam on the brakes so I didn't rear-end the person stopped in front of me. The man in the Trailblazer pulled up next to me and I know he for SURE thought I was crazy because I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye. I knew, of course, that he was not my brother, but being able to see someone that could've been his twin-- running his fingers through his hair, drinking coffee, full of life, made my heart skip a beat and was oddly comforting, if only for a moment.
There are so many things I wish I could tell Matt now. I wish I could show him my rooster tattoo (Although I can totally picture him laughing his signature laugh, running his thumb and forefinger along his jawline, turning his head to the side and inspecting my forearm and us smirking about all the people that were so horrified of my getting a tattoo. "Keep 'em on their toes, little sis," is what he'd said to me so many times throughout the years.) I wish I could tell him that Ella grips the guitar pick that hangs from around my neck in her little fist when I rock her to sleep. Or how Anna will tell total strangers in the grocery store, "My Uncle Matt plays the guitar.. and he's in Heaven." (Although instead of "guitar" she calls it a " 'tar. " I know he'd get such a kick out of that.) Or the way Patrick prays at bedtime and asks to be able to see Uncle Matt again someday. I wish he could know my kids now.
Then I remember.. he does know them now. He does see them and all of us. He knows all the things I've wished I could tell him and I really think I can feel him at the grave sometimes when I'm there.
Every scar, every wound I've ever had has been ripped open this past year, completely exposed. The wound from my brother's death stands as one that will never heal, it will never have the chance to become a scar because it continually gushes pain. In truth, I don't want it to heal. To heal feels like betrayal to me. I'd much rather soak in an ocean of hurt in remembrance of him than heal.. and feel like I'm leaving him behind.
The grief over Matt's death has brought Lisa's death sharply back into focus. I understand now why people have trouble going to funerals after their loved one dies. It brings it all back.
It's hard to not see things in terms of death or as a tribute to my brother.. and Lisa.
This summer when I climbed onto the Millenium Force at Cedar Point with my niece (who by the way is fearless), it wasn't just her sweet smile or my love of rollercoasters that lured me onto the ride. I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that I'd be 310 feet closer to Matt and to Lisa. Was there some part of me that thought I'd find them on the top of that ride? Or was it the hope that maybe, just maybe, if I reached my arms up high enough I'd be able to brush hands with them.. even if only for a moment.
The last time I had ridden that ride was with Lisa. We were both nineteen. I remember scrunching my eyes closed as we reached the top of the first hill. The girl behind me screaming hysterically so I could tell when we were at the top. You know that moment right before you go flying down the hill when you reach the very top of the rollercoaster and it feels like you're totally still, almost like everything freezes? It was then that Lisa had leaned over to me and whispered, "Mellie, open your eyes."
Maybe it sounds hard to believe but eight years later, clicking to the top of that very same rollercoaster, I could still hear her saying that, like she was right there with me.
I miss Matt. I miss Lisa. Come on already, can't they just come back??
It's during the darkest times of your life that you find out who your true friends are. You'll be surprised by some people you considered friends that go running scared, unsure of how to react to the grief. Then there are those friends who reach out for your hand, to let you know they're there through thick and thin.. and there are new friends who come to stand beside you, who are so kind and thoughtful when they do not have to be.. and become your favorite friends and ones you can trust and depend on.
My intent isn't to turn this into some kind of morbid acceptance speech but there are some people that I'd like to thank for being amazing friends. They're my best friends, my A-list. I never would've had a chance of making it through this past year without them.
Amy Ridenour-Wilson-- She is my best friend. She is one of the kindest, most loyal people I've ever known. She can be a fierce unstoppable force when it comes to defending her family and I am so thankful I can consider her my sister. She laughs with me, cries with me and is pretty much the reason why someone came up with the saying, "God couldn't handle us as sisters, so he made us best friends." She is an awesome aunt to my kids and has stood by me every moment of this past year, even during some of my classic late-night emotional meltdowns. I am so thankful to have her in my life.
I love you, Amy.
Mike Tenniswood-- My big brother. One of the two best big brother's in the world. Over the past year I have become closer with him than ever. He understands what I'm feeling when no one else does. Not sure if it's some kind of ESP between siblings but we always know when the other is having a hard day and missing Matt so much. This year has been so hard on Mike, he and Matt were so close. I've always appreciated Mike and the big brother that he has been to me but these past months have made me so thankful to have someone I can really lean on and knows the searing pain of the death of a sibling. He is an amazing father to his three little girls and is such a strong individual.
I love you, Mike.
Lindsey Powers-- My Lindsey, my best friend, my BFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (but she's the only one that will understand that part :D). She's one of the strongest people I know and despite all that she has piled on her plate, she will drop everything to help me (or anyone for that matter). She's there when I need her --even at 2AM (and aren't those the BEST kind of friends??). She knows what truly soothes the soul -- ice cream, laughter and fifty feet of bubble wrap (If you've never went nuts with bubble wrap.. you should. It's unbelievably therapeutic.) I love her and am very thankful for her.
I love you, Lindsey.
Mike Smith-- My best buddy. His name has been a household favorite since I was two years old. He's been Matt's best friend since they were in second grade and has helped me navigate through the darkest days I've known. Mike is loyalty and compassion. He isn't loyal to my brother only in death.. but he was all through Matt's life. I can trust him with absolutely anything. When I'm heartbroken and drowning in grief he's the first dive in and bring me to the surface to catch my breath. Whether we're getting matching rooster tattoos, making our weekly trip to the grave or he's bringing me Taco Bell at midnight to cheer me up, one thing is for sure.. he's my best buddy. I know my brother smiles at the thought of me now being best friends with his best friend.
I love you, Mike.
Lisa Webb-- She comes from one of the most loving and big-hearted families I've ever met. I am confident she and her parents, sister, husband and daughters are among the most wonderful people on Earth. The empathy that radiates from Lisa is phenomenal. She's no fair-weather friend. She hasn't just been around for the fun stuff but she's willing to swim into the dark waters where I am found so often these days, to drag me back to shore. She's one of my "forever friends" and I'm very thankful for her.
I love you, Lisa.
There are countless others who have went out of their way to be SO kind and helpful and who, I am quite certain, we wouldn't have survived without.
When Patrick started preschool two years ago we went in not knowing anyone from the school to emerging with an *AMAZING* group of friends. The "preschool moms" (who I guess at some point I should start referring to as "Kindergarten moms," since that's what we are now) have no idea how much they mean to me and their support has been invaluable over the past year. Funny how total strangers morph into your favorite people. I love each one of you so much!
So ends the first year without my brother. Chapters have closed, doors have been slammed shut and irreparable damage has been done. I hate sounding like I'm having this giant pity party (well today I actually am but I mean on a regular basis) but.. it is what it is.
In dealing with tragedy, my eyes have been opened to what really matters. I would literally do anything to bring my brother back but in dealing with his death, it has changed the way I look at life.. and I mean that in a good way.
The people we love are what really matters. They are.. everything. Life is too short to spend it any other way than surrounded by the people you love.
I love you, Matt. We all miss you so much. Gone but never forgotten. Xoxo.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
sweetness, giggles and sparkly purple sunglasses
Ella Bear. Cinderella. Sweet Bear. Ella-Bella-Rella. Bear Cubs. Little Love. My Brown-Eyed Girl.
How can you be one year old already???
From the moment you entered our lives, you have been a little bundle of sweetness. My snuggly little peanut. My little love bear.
August 30, 2009: I'm sitting in the living room on the couch, holding an EPT in my hand. to be honest, I didn't think I was pregnant. I talked on the phone with my mom and didn't think anything of it as the time ticked by and I waited the necessary two minutes to read the results to be able to confirm that I was not, in fact, pregnant.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Chatting with my mom, I momentarily glanced down and whaddya know.. there were two pink lines.
I stared at it and turned my head to the left. Then to the right. I blinked twice. I got up and flicked on another light so I could see more clearly. I held the test up to the light.
Was I imagining that second line?
"Hey Mom, you're not going to believe this, but..."
Yep, sure enough! That was the night we found out you were on the way.
Even before you were born.. we loved you so much. You were a wish that came true.
At your twenty week ultrasound, we opted to skip finding out whether you'd be a boy or a girl. It was almost impossible to imagine having a little boy that wouldn't look exactly like Patrick or a little girl that wouldn't be a carbon copy of Anna. I wondered about the place you'd fill in our family and how it would be to be a family of five.
I remember the second you were born and when your dad shouted, "It's a girl! It's a girl!"
The moment you were placed in my arms for the first time was pure magic.
For the third time in my life, my heart absolutely exploded with love. Not only did you fit perfectly in my arms but into our family as well. You were everything that is perfect-- wrapped in a pink blanket.
How is it possible it's been a year already? How can my BABY be ONE? I know I'll blink and you'll five, then ten, then.. Oh wow, I'm going to stop right there before I have a breakdown. Just STOP GROWING SO FAST.. please?!
"Giggles, curls, ribbons and bows.. she is adorable-- head to toe."
I wish like everything your Uncle Matt could've been at your first birthday party. It rips the heart from my chest to know that you only knew him six short months. He loved you so much.
He started a song for you but hadn't put music to it yet. These lyrics are from the first draft he wrote and I'm sure he would've edited them a million times and perhaps these were just his thoughts to get started on the song but I am so thankful he wrote them down so I can pass them on to you:
Ella Marie
I never knew that love could exist for someone
You never met but after writing this song I believe now
Suddenly this night was here, a baby about to appear,
I found myself completely unprepared,
I guess now it's alright to say I was so scared for
My little sister and the unborn child within her.
I was pacing the room frantically waiting for news
Almost going crazy,
Suddenly I saw that someone was trying to reach me.
Words of comfort, sweet relief,
Someone reaching out to me.
Lisa was a friend to me, helped me more than she'll ever know.
She talked me through the delivery and suddenly I had
The news of a newborn niece named Ella Marie.
And the fears before were lifted and replaced.
I learned something that night I'll remember the rest of my life.
Some things I thought were so important are not worth the ink from this pen;
Other things I never gave much thought of,
I'll remember forever because they effect
The ones I love and that are worth more than words can be.
There are so many people that love and adore you.
You have a big brother and big sister that, at the tender ages of five and three, will gladly go to bat to protect you. Who needs a bodyguard when you have older siblings?
At Jumpin Jax the other day, you were about ten feet away from me and a little boy no older than four walked up and, for no particular reason, pushed you down. (Who knows, maybe he was testing to see if you were a Weeble.) As I began walking toward you, I stopped dead in my tracks as Patrick and Anna appeared out of no where and stood between you and the little boy.
After watching for a couple of moments I could tell the little boy had pushed you down out of curiosity more than anything but your brother and sister took it at face value and their older sibling instincts were put into action.
I watched for a moment to see how they would handle it on their own.
Patrick was trying to be diplomatic but I could see the switch had been flipped. A little frown creased his forehead as he explained, "That's our little sister.."
Anna took a less subtle approach by putting her hands on her hips, crinkling up her nose and yelling, "APOLOGIZE TO BEAR!"
The poor kid muttered "sorry" and scampered off. Hey, kids will be kids-- this I know well, but I stood there, biting my lip to keep back the tears because I could see right then and there how much they love and adore you.
Patrick is so protective of you and is so quick to include you in whatever game he's playing. He's always willing to share his toys with you and is always excited to climb into your crib with you when you wake up from a nap. So many times I've overheard him talking baby talk to you, calling you his "chubby little lady." He is your big brother and best friend and is always looking out for you.
There is nothing in this world that thrills Anna more than being able to put purple sparkly sunglasses on you and a pink cowboy hat. She loves to get you all dolled up with accessories and then "ooo" and "ahh" over you and say, "Bear.. you look SO beautiful!" I love the sister bond the two of you have. Although I am sure you two will go head-to-head as most sisters do at times, I know the bond you share is one of the strongest there is in life. I never had a sister, so I'm excited the two of you have each other and already can see you will be best friends.
"What are little girls made of? They're made of ribbons and butterfly kisses and wonder at Christmas and birthday wishes and a heap of giggles and wiggles and love; these are the things little girls are made of."
Ella Marie, you capture the heart of everyone you meet with your enormous brown eyes and loving, spunky little personality. Random children come up to you when we're in public and squeeze you because you're that cute and cuddly.
What an amazing first year you've had! I'm so excited for everything that awaits you in this upcoming year. I am so proud of you and everything you've accomplished already!
I love how excited you get when you say, "Da-Da," "Ma-Ma," or "doggie." I love the mischievous fireworks that seem to sparkle in your eyes when you smile. I love that you're a third born baby, just like me. I love how outgoing you are and how much you love people. I love those huge, beautiful brown eyes, that sweet little button nose and that unbelievably adorable grin of yours.
If only I could keep you little.. You are already growing up much too fast. Which is why I'm going to quit writing now and snuggle you while we read a book and get ready for bed.
Happy Birthday, sweet daughter of mine! You are my everything. I love you to the moon and back!
How can you be one year old already???
From the moment you entered our lives, you have been a little bundle of sweetness. My snuggly little peanut. My little love bear.
August 30, 2009: I'm sitting in the living room on the couch, holding an EPT in my hand. to be honest, I didn't think I was pregnant. I talked on the phone with my mom and didn't think anything of it as the time ticked by and I waited the necessary two minutes to read the results to be able to confirm that I was not, in fact, pregnant.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Chatting with my mom, I momentarily glanced down and whaddya know.. there were two pink lines.
I stared at it and turned my head to the left. Then to the right. I blinked twice. I got up and flicked on another light so I could see more clearly. I held the test up to the light.
Was I imagining that second line?
"Hey Mom, you're not going to believe this, but..."
Yep, sure enough! That was the night we found out you were on the way.
Even before you were born.. we loved you so much. You were a wish that came true.
At your twenty week ultrasound, we opted to skip finding out whether you'd be a boy or a girl. It was almost impossible to imagine having a little boy that wouldn't look exactly like Patrick or a little girl that wouldn't be a carbon copy of Anna. I wondered about the place you'd fill in our family and how it would be to be a family of five.
I remember the second you were born and when your dad shouted, "It's a girl! It's a girl!"
The moment you were placed in my arms for the first time was pure magic.
For the third time in my life, my heart absolutely exploded with love. Not only did you fit perfectly in my arms but into our family as well. You were everything that is perfect-- wrapped in a pink blanket.
How is it possible it's been a year already? How can my BABY be ONE? I know I'll blink and you'll five, then ten, then.. Oh wow, I'm going to stop right there before I have a breakdown. Just STOP GROWING SO FAST.. please?!
"Giggles, curls, ribbons and bows.. she is adorable-- head to toe."
I wish like everything your Uncle Matt could've been at your first birthday party. It rips the heart from my chest to know that you only knew him six short months. He loved you so much.
He started a song for you but hadn't put music to it yet. These lyrics are from the first draft he wrote and I'm sure he would've edited them a million times and perhaps these were just his thoughts to get started on the song but I am so thankful he wrote them down so I can pass them on to you:
Ella Marie
I never knew that love could exist for someone
You never met but after writing this song I believe now
Suddenly this night was here, a baby about to appear,
I found myself completely unprepared,
I guess now it's alright to say I was so scared for
My little sister and the unborn child within her.
I was pacing the room frantically waiting for news
Almost going crazy,
Suddenly I saw that someone was trying to reach me.
Words of comfort, sweet relief,
Someone reaching out to me.
Lisa was a friend to me, helped me more than she'll ever know.
She talked me through the delivery and suddenly I had
The news of a newborn niece named Ella Marie.
And the fears before were lifted and replaced.
I learned something that night I'll remember the rest of my life.
Some things I thought were so important are not worth the ink from this pen;
Other things I never gave much thought of,
I'll remember forever because they effect
The ones I love and that are worth more than words can be.
There are so many people that love and adore you.
You have a big brother and big sister that, at the tender ages of five and three, will gladly go to bat to protect you. Who needs a bodyguard when you have older siblings?
At Jumpin Jax the other day, you were about ten feet away from me and a little boy no older than four walked up and, for no particular reason, pushed you down. (Who knows, maybe he was testing to see if you were a Weeble.) As I began walking toward you, I stopped dead in my tracks as Patrick and Anna appeared out of no where and stood between you and the little boy.
After watching for a couple of moments I could tell the little boy had pushed you down out of curiosity more than anything but your brother and sister took it at face value and their older sibling instincts were put into action.
I watched for a moment to see how they would handle it on their own.
Patrick was trying to be diplomatic but I could see the switch had been flipped. A little frown creased his forehead as he explained, "That's our little sister.."
Anna took a less subtle approach by putting her hands on her hips, crinkling up her nose and yelling, "APOLOGIZE TO BEAR!"
The poor kid muttered "sorry" and scampered off. Hey, kids will be kids-- this I know well, but I stood there, biting my lip to keep back the tears because I could see right then and there how much they love and adore you.
Patrick is so protective of you and is so quick to include you in whatever game he's playing. He's always willing to share his toys with you and is always excited to climb into your crib with you when you wake up from a nap. So many times I've overheard him talking baby talk to you, calling you his "chubby little lady." He is your big brother and best friend and is always looking out for you.
There is nothing in this world that thrills Anna more than being able to put purple sparkly sunglasses on you and a pink cowboy hat. She loves to get you all dolled up with accessories and then "ooo" and "ahh" over you and say, "Bear.. you look SO beautiful!" I love the sister bond the two of you have. Although I am sure you two will go head-to-head as most sisters do at times, I know the bond you share is one of the strongest there is in life. I never had a sister, so I'm excited the two of you have each other and already can see you will be best friends.
"What are little girls made of? They're made of ribbons and butterfly kisses and wonder at Christmas and birthday wishes and a heap of giggles and wiggles and love; these are the things little girls are made of."
Ella Marie, you capture the heart of everyone you meet with your enormous brown eyes and loving, spunky little personality. Random children come up to you when we're in public and squeeze you because you're that cute and cuddly.
What an amazing first year you've had! I'm so excited for everything that awaits you in this upcoming year. I am so proud of you and everything you've accomplished already!
I love how excited you get when you say, "Da-Da," "Ma-Ma," or "doggie." I love the mischievous fireworks that seem to sparkle in your eyes when you smile. I love that you're a third born baby, just like me. I love how outgoing you are and how much you love people. I love those huge, beautiful brown eyes, that sweet little button nose and that unbelievably adorable grin of yours.
If only I could keep you little.. You are already growing up much too fast. Which is why I'm going to quit writing now and snuggle you while we read a book and get ready for bed.
Happy Birthday, sweet daughter of mine! You are my everything. I love you to the moon and back!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
peace, love & cupcakes
Three years old.. seriously?!
But wait, Anna-girl.. wasn't it like five minutes ago I found out I was pregnant with you? I can remember my 20 week ultrasound so clearly.
I was told I'd have a daughter but was sent a princess.
You're a swirl of giggles and have the cutest button nose I've ever seen. You're my baby rebel with a heart of gold. You worship the ground Patrick walks on and are fiercely protective of "your" baby Ella.
My heart melts like a pat of butter in a frying pan when I look into those big blue eyes.
I love that you love diesel trucks, George Strait, superman ice cream, Dora and wrinkling up that precious nose when you're not sure what to think about a situation.
The first time my dad held you in his arms he said that you were "destined for great things." I have no doubt that you'll be a rock star in whatever you choose to do in life. Your eyes glimmer with determination and tell me that you will go far in life.
"I believe / fate smiled and destiny laughed as she came to my cradle / 'know this child will be able' / laughed as my body she lifted / 'know this child will be gifted' / with love, with patience and with faith / she'll make her way" ~Natalie Merchant
You are my joy and heart's delight.
I've been thinking about the tea party you and I had a couple of days ago. Patrick was at preschool and Ella was napping. It was just you and me. We had a giant pink blanket spread out with our Disney princess tea cups filled with apple juice. Our Jasmine and Belle plates covered with graham crackers, apples and little cookies. You were wearing your favorite blue princess dress and we had our sparkly jeweled tiaras on our heads. I smile watching you hold the top of the Ariel teapot as you poured apple juice in our cups. It's unbelievable to think you are already old enough for these things.
Then it hit me.. these are the moments. The ones I will think back on and tear up remembering when you are all grown up.
Someday all too soon we won't be playing dress up anymore. You'll be standing in front of me in a wedding dress. (Wow, I can't even type that without hyperventilating.)
At the tender age of three you are one of my best friends. So bittersweet watching you turning into a little lady.. there's no denying you are no longer a baby. Our mommy/daughter bond makes my world go 'round. You are one of my princesses, one of my three "everythings." I can't begin to imagine life without you.
This upcoming year you will start preschool and I'll have to drop you off *gulp* and force myself to walk out of the classroom. (Don't think I won't be sobbing like a baby in the parking lot for those two hours on your first day.. ok ok FINE, first MONTH.)
You're growing up.. that's the bottom line. As much as I'd like to keep you little, I am looking forward to seeing who you grow up to be, the amazing woman (*sob*) you will turn into. You're going to change this world for the better. You make it a worthwhile place just by being you, baby girl.
No matter if you're three years old and we're reading Goodnight Moon, you're seventeen picking out your prom dress or you're all grown up with babies of your own (ok, be right back, I've got to find some Kleenex to soak up the tears from the thought of that last one so I can actually see the screen again).. you will ALWAYS be my baby girl. Forever & for always.
"Playdough rainbows and paper wings / I remember all of your favorite things / Like tea time with Pooh Bear and Charlie Brown / Barbie band-aids and princess gowns / And here I am trying to hold the hands of time / They're movin' so fast that I'm fallin' behind / And I know, that you're ready to take a step / But I'm not ready for that yet / All I see is my little girl in tears and curls / Watching you grow before my eyes / Letting you go one Barbie band-aid at a time." ~Sonya Isaacs
I love you, Anna Elaine, with all of my heart.. to the moon and back. You are my everything.
Now.. let's go cuddle and pretend you're not growing up too quickly.
Happy Birthday, gorgeous girl!
But wait, Anna-girl.. wasn't it like five minutes ago I found out I was pregnant with you? I can remember my 20 week ultrasound so clearly.
I was told I'd have a daughter but was sent a princess.
When you were born it was, of course, love at first sight. Within seconds you had your dad and me wrapped securely around your little finger. The moment you were born took my breath away. You were exactly what I was hoping and dreaming for.. perfection with sweet, chubby cheeks!
The world was drenched in the most beautiful pink, the day you were lifted into the world.
You're a swirl of giggles and have the cutest button nose I've ever seen. You're my baby rebel with a heart of gold. You worship the ground Patrick walks on and are fiercely protective of "your" baby Ella.
My heart melts like a pat of butter in a frying pan when I look into those big blue eyes.
I love that you love diesel trucks, George Strait, superman ice cream, Dora and wrinkling up that precious nose when you're not sure what to think about a situation.
The first time my dad held you in his arms he said that you were "destined for great things." I have no doubt that you'll be a rock star in whatever you choose to do in life. Your eyes glimmer with determination and tell me that you will go far in life.
"I believe / fate smiled and destiny laughed as she came to my cradle / 'know this child will be able' / laughed as my body she lifted / 'know this child will be gifted' / with love, with patience and with faith / she'll make her way" ~Natalie Merchant
You are my joy and heart's delight.
I've been thinking about the tea party you and I had a couple of days ago. Patrick was at preschool and Ella was napping. It was just you and me. We had a giant pink blanket spread out with our Disney princess tea cups filled with apple juice. Our Jasmine and Belle plates covered with graham crackers, apples and little cookies. You were wearing your favorite blue princess dress and we had our sparkly jeweled tiaras on our heads. I smile watching you hold the top of the Ariel teapot as you poured apple juice in our cups. It's unbelievable to think you are already old enough for these things.
Then it hit me.. these are the moments. The ones I will think back on and tear up remembering when you are all grown up.
Someday all too soon we won't be playing dress up anymore. You'll be standing in front of me in a wedding dress. (Wow, I can't even type that without hyperventilating.)
At the tender age of three you are one of my best friends. So bittersweet watching you turning into a little lady.. there's no denying you are no longer a baby. Our mommy/daughter bond makes my world go 'round. You are one of my princesses, one of my three "everythings." I can't begin to imagine life without you.
This upcoming year you will start preschool and I'll have to drop you off *gulp* and force myself to walk out of the classroom. (Don't think I won't be sobbing like a baby in the parking lot for those two hours on your first day.. ok ok FINE, first MONTH.)
You're growing up.. that's the bottom line. As much as I'd like to keep you little, I am looking forward to seeing who you grow up to be, the amazing woman (*sob*) you will turn into. You're going to change this world for the better. You make it a worthwhile place just by being you, baby girl.
No matter if you're three years old and we're reading Goodnight Moon, you're seventeen picking out your prom dress or you're all grown up with babies of your own (ok, be right back, I've got to find some Kleenex to soak up the tears from the thought of that last one so I can actually see the screen again).. you will ALWAYS be my baby girl. Forever & for always.
"Playdough rainbows and paper wings / I remember all of your favorite things / Like tea time with Pooh Bear and Charlie Brown / Barbie band-aids and princess gowns / And here I am trying to hold the hands of time / They're movin' so fast that I'm fallin' behind / And I know, that you're ready to take a step / But I'm not ready for that yet / All I see is my little girl in tears and curls / Watching you grow before my eyes / Letting you go one Barbie band-aid at a time." ~Sonya Isaacs
I love you, Anna Elaine, with all of my heart.. to the moon and back. You are my everything.
Now.. let's go cuddle and pretend you're not growing up too quickly.
Happy Birthday, gorgeous girl!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
wish you were here
I feel like I should include some sort of disclaimer with this blog. If the last one I posted about Matt made you nervous and uncomfortable, please do not read this. My intent is not to send you into some sort of panic and make you squirm in your seat. This is my way of coping.
A key part of accepting what has happened is coming to grips with the fact that it's NEVER going to be better. That the pain is NEVER-ENDING. It may morph into a different form of pain but it is a wound that will never heal.
It will leave you with a limp. Sure, you'll be able to walk.. but it will be evident that you were hurt. Badly.
Facing the cold, hard truth that life is forever altered is hard to come to terms with because that means change is inevitable.
Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
The five stages of grief. I hate putting any sort of punctuation after each of the stages because it makes them seem so... contained. When in reality there is nothing clear-cut or black-and-white about them. The books I've been reading make the stages sound so cut-and-dried, like they're all packaged and labeled, tied-up with a perfect ribbon.
They neglect to tell you that just because you've accepted it doesn't mean you're not going to deal with denial on a daily basis, along with depression, a dash of bargaining and a sprinkle of anger. Grief is as unpredictable as a toddler. I don't even like putting the stages in a certain order because you can go from denial to depression to searing anger to begging and pleading with God and then land back in denial-- all in about 5 minutes.
I'll think I'm doing alright.. or coping anyway and then all of a sudden I'll snap. Maybe it will be triggered by a memory, a restaurant, a smell or maybe it'll be nothing more than opening my eyes in the morning.
You know you're grieving when you want nothing more than to be haunted. "Inhabited or frequented by ghosts" is how the dictionary defines "haunted."
OOOH, PICK ME! PICK ME! (Uhh.. to be haunted by MATT, not some random ghost, just to clarify.)
The desperation to see him leaves me frantic. Thinking of how there's nothing I can do about it makes me so irritated sometimes. I can feel my heart accelerate and my breathing turns into hyperventilation as I rack my brain trying to come up with something.. anything.. to make it possible.
I'm sitting at the cemetery as I write this and I could swear I feel some sort of presence here, like I'm being watched. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see my big brother walking towards me.
I would give literally anything to see him.. for him to walk up, tap me on the shoulder and tell me this was all just a nightmare and it's time to wake up.
Why don't they include "apathy" as a stage of grief? I have such a total and complete lack of care in so many areas of my life now.
This, of course, does not apply to my family and friends. They are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Some days all I feel like doing is curling up on the couch (with an unlimited supply of Oreos) and sobbing. I am so thankful for my kids that keep me going. I have my time to grieve but I can't just quit and give up because they are my everything and I know I have to pick up the pieces and keep things moving. Their happiness and well-being is everything and sitting on the couch accomplishes nothing. Their little smiling faces and knowing that my brother would've wanted me to take care of them and myself keeps me doing everything.. from going to class to brushing my teeth (well I guess I do that for EVERYONE'S benefit) to doing laundry (I mean I haven't seen the actual floor of my laundry room for like 5 years but you know what I mean.)
Since Matt died, my sense of care and concern for those close to me has been heightened greatly. Not that I didn't care before but I think when you lose someone you love you start to see things differently. There's no gray area anymore. It's all black-and-white. The things that truly matter come sharply into focus and everything else fades to black.
There are some things that mattered so much to me before October 14 that became insignificant details that will never be thought of again because of that night.
The things that really matter in life aren't things.. they're people. Tragedy has a way of highlighting what's really important to you. You learn that you can't overuse the phrase "I love you" if you mean it.
Do me a favor, would you? When you're done reading this go tell the people that matter to you the most that you love them. Your kids. Your spouse. Your siblings. Your best friends. Your mailman. (Ha, just kidding on that last one. Unless of course your mailman happens to be a family member or close friend.. otherwise I'm thinking that might land you with some sort of restraining order.) Maybe there's someone in your life you care about but history, time, bitterness, whatever it is, is keeping you locked in a state of pride that leaves your relationships at a standstill. Get over your petty differences, put aside any hurt and anger you might be holding onto that keeps you from being close or at the very least telling them how you feel.. and reach out. Call them. Write them. Text them. Do something.. because guess what? We all say we want to live each day as if it were our last but isn't it funny how we make excuses about why we just CAN'T take the first step to repairing damage that has been done? The truth of it is one of these days it WILL be your last and I know for myself I don't want to die without telling the people that matter the most to me that they were my everything.
Grief takes so many forms. It's incredible the way it comes out unexpectedly, the tendrils of it slithtering and weaving throughout every aspect of life.
At restaurants, I find myself ordering the things Matt liked to order. I'm pretty sure if you cracked my head open a bunch of Guns N' Roses lyrics would spill out. One of his guitar picks is on a chain around my neck that I'll wear for the rest of my life.
Incorporating all of the little things that made Matt who he was into my life is my way of showing loyalty to him and ensuring his memory will be kept alive.
So weird how when shock wears off you're left with a devastation that is unbearable. You know like how if you have frostbite or are super cold, it doesn't really hurt when you're outside and frozen? It's when you get to someplace warm and the feeling starts returning that there is pain.
I read this book about a surfer named Bethany Hamilton that had her arm bit off by a shark. She said she felt no pain when it happened, while she was in shock. Your body doesn't even bother with pain receptors during that kind of trauma because your brain knows that you are very aware there is danger and it is life-threatening. She said when she woke up in the hospital the next day that's when she felt the pain, when the shock had wore off and the healing began.
The shock of my brother dying is gone and in its place is this horrible, burning, heart-wrenching ache that rises and falls like a rollercoaster.
Death doesn't change what you are to someone. It doesn't mean Matt isn't my big brother still. He always will be. All death means is that it will probably be a while before I get to see him again. It puts some time between us but I'm thankful I knew him well enough so that I can hear exactly what he would say in response to anything I would ask him.
It's been 66 days. How is that even possible?
My parents used to have a Cessna when we were younger and as a family we'd fly all over the place in it. I'd always get stuck in the back, which was fine by me because Mike or Matt would sit next to me. Anyone that's flown can relate to the adrenaline that pumps through you as a plane takes off. The engines screaming louder and louder. The gravity that pins you against your seat as you ascend into the air.
I can remember sitting in the back of the plane with Matt with our headsets on, grinning at each other as we sped down the runway. It was our favorite part of the flight.
Since Matt died I keep having that feeling of taking off in a plane.. but it's not in a good way. It's not like how I remember it was when my dad was at the controls. It's like taking off in a plane you know is doomed to crash. That feeling of being thrown back in your seat and all you can do is pray the plane won't explode. It's the feeling of total helplessness and knowing that there's nothing you can do but hold on to the seat in front of you with white knuckles and ride it out.
It's an out-of-control panic, fueled by grief.
I really, really miss my brother.
About this time last year Matt and I went out for lunch and I remember him, with a mug of coffee in his right hand, running his left hand through his hair, asking me how my writing was coming along.
I shrugged. "It's ok, I guess," I had said, "I'd like to write a book but I don't know what to write about."
The corners of his lips curled upwards and he grinned over his coffee, "I can think of a few things."
I laughed. "Well yeah, me too, but for those things I would need a pen name.. and a place to run to in Mexico if Mom and Dad find out."
Smirking, he replied, "Do whatever you've got to do to get it written. Writing is your talent and I'm looking forward to reading it."
So what am I gonna do? I'm gonna write a book, that's what.. and dedicate it to my brother.
I can't think of a good way to end this but I guess that's fitting since it's about grief and this grief is one that will never really end.
A key part of accepting what has happened is coming to grips with the fact that it's NEVER going to be better. That the pain is NEVER-ENDING. It may morph into a different form of pain but it is a wound that will never heal.
It will leave you with a limp. Sure, you'll be able to walk.. but it will be evident that you were hurt. Badly.
Facing the cold, hard truth that life is forever altered is hard to come to terms with because that means change is inevitable.
Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
The five stages of grief. I hate putting any sort of punctuation after each of the stages because it makes them seem so... contained. When in reality there is nothing clear-cut or black-and-white about them. The books I've been reading make the stages sound so cut-and-dried, like they're all packaged and labeled, tied-up with a perfect ribbon.
They neglect to tell you that just because you've accepted it doesn't mean you're not going to deal with denial on a daily basis, along with depression, a dash of bargaining and a sprinkle of anger. Grief is as unpredictable as a toddler. I don't even like putting the stages in a certain order because you can go from denial to depression to searing anger to begging and pleading with God and then land back in denial-- all in about 5 minutes.
I'll think I'm doing alright.. or coping anyway and then all of a sudden I'll snap. Maybe it will be triggered by a memory, a restaurant, a smell or maybe it'll be nothing more than opening my eyes in the morning.
You know you're grieving when you want nothing more than to be haunted. "Inhabited or frequented by ghosts" is how the dictionary defines "haunted."
OOOH, PICK ME! PICK ME! (Uhh.. to be haunted by MATT, not some random ghost, just to clarify.)
The desperation to see him leaves me frantic. Thinking of how there's nothing I can do about it makes me so irritated sometimes. I can feel my heart accelerate and my breathing turns into hyperventilation as I rack my brain trying to come up with something.. anything.. to make it possible.
I'm sitting at the cemetery as I write this and I could swear I feel some sort of presence here, like I'm being watched. I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see my big brother walking towards me.
I would give literally anything to see him.. for him to walk up, tap me on the shoulder and tell me this was all just a nightmare and it's time to wake up.
Why don't they include "apathy" as a stage of grief? I have such a total and complete lack of care in so many areas of my life now.
This, of course, does not apply to my family and friends. They are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Some days all I feel like doing is curling up on the couch (with an unlimited supply of Oreos) and sobbing. I am so thankful for my kids that keep me going. I have my time to grieve but I can't just quit and give up because they are my everything and I know I have to pick up the pieces and keep things moving. Their happiness and well-being is everything and sitting on the couch accomplishes nothing. Their little smiling faces and knowing that my brother would've wanted me to take care of them and myself keeps me doing everything.. from going to class to brushing my teeth (well I guess I do that for EVERYONE'S benefit) to doing laundry (I mean I haven't seen the actual floor of my laundry room for like 5 years but you know what I mean.)
Since Matt died, my sense of care and concern for those close to me has been heightened greatly. Not that I didn't care before but I think when you lose someone you love you start to see things differently. There's no gray area anymore. It's all black-and-white. The things that truly matter come sharply into focus and everything else fades to black.
There are some things that mattered so much to me before October 14 that became insignificant details that will never be thought of again because of that night.
The things that really matter in life aren't things.. they're people. Tragedy has a way of highlighting what's really important to you. You learn that you can't overuse the phrase "I love you" if you mean it.
Do me a favor, would you? When you're done reading this go tell the people that matter to you the most that you love them. Your kids. Your spouse. Your siblings. Your best friends. Your mailman. (Ha, just kidding on that last one. Unless of course your mailman happens to be a family member or close friend.. otherwise I'm thinking that might land you with some sort of restraining order.) Maybe there's someone in your life you care about but history, time, bitterness, whatever it is, is keeping you locked in a state of pride that leaves your relationships at a standstill. Get over your petty differences, put aside any hurt and anger you might be holding onto that keeps you from being close or at the very least telling them how you feel.. and reach out. Call them. Write them. Text them. Do something.. because guess what? We all say we want to live each day as if it were our last but isn't it funny how we make excuses about why we just CAN'T take the first step to repairing damage that has been done? The truth of it is one of these days it WILL be your last and I know for myself I don't want to die without telling the people that matter the most to me that they were my everything.
Grief takes so many forms. It's incredible the way it comes out unexpectedly, the tendrils of it slithtering and weaving throughout every aspect of life.
At restaurants, I find myself ordering the things Matt liked to order. I'm pretty sure if you cracked my head open a bunch of Guns N' Roses lyrics would spill out. One of his guitar picks is on a chain around my neck that I'll wear for the rest of my life.
Incorporating all of the little things that made Matt who he was into my life is my way of showing loyalty to him and ensuring his memory will be kept alive.
So weird how when shock wears off you're left with a devastation that is unbearable. You know like how if you have frostbite or are super cold, it doesn't really hurt when you're outside and frozen? It's when you get to someplace warm and the feeling starts returning that there is pain.
I read this book about a surfer named Bethany Hamilton that had her arm bit off by a shark. She said she felt no pain when it happened, while she was in shock. Your body doesn't even bother with pain receptors during that kind of trauma because your brain knows that you are very aware there is danger and it is life-threatening. She said when she woke up in the hospital the next day that's when she felt the pain, when the shock had wore off and the healing began.
The shock of my brother dying is gone and in its place is this horrible, burning, heart-wrenching ache that rises and falls like a rollercoaster.
Death doesn't change what you are to someone. It doesn't mean Matt isn't my big brother still. He always will be. All death means is that it will probably be a while before I get to see him again. It puts some time between us but I'm thankful I knew him well enough so that I can hear exactly what he would say in response to anything I would ask him.
It's been 66 days. How is that even possible?
My parents used to have a Cessna when we were younger and as a family we'd fly all over the place in it. I'd always get stuck in the back, which was fine by me because Mike or Matt would sit next to me. Anyone that's flown can relate to the adrenaline that pumps through you as a plane takes off. The engines screaming louder and louder. The gravity that pins you against your seat as you ascend into the air.
I can remember sitting in the back of the plane with Matt with our headsets on, grinning at each other as we sped down the runway. It was our favorite part of the flight.
Since Matt died I keep having that feeling of taking off in a plane.. but it's not in a good way. It's not like how I remember it was when my dad was at the controls. It's like taking off in a plane you know is doomed to crash. That feeling of being thrown back in your seat and all you can do is pray the plane won't explode. It's the feeling of total helplessness and knowing that there's nothing you can do but hold on to the seat in front of you with white knuckles and ride it out.
It's an out-of-control panic, fueled by grief.
I really, really miss my brother.
About this time last year Matt and I went out for lunch and I remember him, with a mug of coffee in his right hand, running his left hand through his hair, asking me how my writing was coming along.
I shrugged. "It's ok, I guess," I had said, "I'd like to write a book but I don't know what to write about."
The corners of his lips curled upwards and he grinned over his coffee, "I can think of a few things."
I laughed. "Well yeah, me too, but for those things I would need a pen name.. and a place to run to in Mexico if Mom and Dad find out."
Smirking, he replied, "Do whatever you've got to do to get it written. Writing is your talent and I'm looking forward to reading it."
So what am I gonna do? I'm gonna write a book, that's what.. and dedicate it to my brother.
I can't think of a good way to end this but I guess that's fitting since it's about grief and this grief is one that will never really end.
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