Putting myself back together

I have been staring at this blank screen entirely too long.

The words don't come.

Not the way that sounds right.

Instead it's all a jumbled mess, like it has been for over the last year and a half. Closer to two years now. I thought I hit my final breaking point after I picked up that call a few weeks ago. That point where you tell yourself it's over - it's done - this is all there is.

Can't be broken anymore. Empty.

Only I was wrong. The moment (unexpectedly) came today.

Standing there I felt ... like I should have been feeling something ... but I wasn't anymore. I want to say this is wrecking me, but I'm at this point where I almost feel nothing. It can play on a repeat in my head, but I feel such distance from it at the same time.

I am not any of the things you say I am. I will never speak words like that to someone I love. And it's beyond sad it's come to this. You won't even see this but it makes no difference. I say these things for me.

And this is all I've got right now.

Moving on to find a better me ... for my babies ... for my husband ... and for my own sanity.

Angel wings

The house phone rang just after 10pm last night, as I was just putting my cell on silent for the night. Since only telemarketers call the house phone for the most part, I knew just what it was. My stomach sank. Al called my name and I told him I didn't want to take it. He nodded but handed me the phone anyway.

My Grama had passed. 

It was only then that I looked at the date and realized that it was one year to the day that my Grandfather had passed last year. I hadn't even realized what day it was. It was too late to call my other Grama so I emailed her that I was missing him and thinking of her.

I texted one of my girlfriends a few times, IM'd my brother a bit, and then I told myself I was going to sleep ... but I could not sleep. I wished that one of the boys would get up and need me so I could try and take my mind off things. I tried to tell myself that my Grama was happy now. At peace. Finally reunited with my Grampa after almost 8 years. Finally reunited with their son Alan who passed as a toddler and I know she never ever stopped missing. I tried to imagine them all together, with my Great Grama and others greeting them.

The truth is, I don't know if that's how things work. I mean I hope it does ... but I have no idea.

It doesn't feel real.  I didn't get to be there. I didn't get to say goodbye.

In the middle of the night the Bunny Bee came running in after hearing a noise. I needed that. I pulled him close as he fell asleep holding my hand.

We told the boys this morning. All three of them climbed in bed next to me and we just watched TV for awhile like that. The Big Guy said he couldn't go to school. I actually thought about keeping them all home, just staying in bed to watch movies ... but I knew that I had to send them. It would be good for them to be with their friends and in a routine today.

I came back home and tore my house to pieces trying to find the photos we had done when my Grama was last here 2 years ago. I had packed them in preparation for the move a few months back and had never scanned them in online. I prayed out loud to St. Anthony, never really believing it would actually work. Basement, my desk, the dining room, my entire bedroom ... all torn apart. Just as I was giving up, I checked one more place - that I didn't think it could possibly be.

And there they were.

My photos.

Tears all over again.

It doesn't feel real thinking about how I will never hear her voice or get to hug her again. My Grama was so strong, loving, compassionate ... amazing. I don't even have all the words to describe how wonderful she was. I'm proud to have been her granddaughter.

I will miss her more than I can ever express.

Not ready to let her go

It has been weeks since my last blog. It feels like a confession to type that.

So much has been happening between the Big Guy turning eight, the movie coming out, Christmas, vacation and more ... but there is a reason that I have not been able to bring myself to write a single thing. Until today, I haven't even been able to log myself in here to even think about posting anything.

My Grama (in Florida) has had two strokes since Thanksgiving, with the second one coming right around the Big Guy's birthday. My mother flew out to Florida before the holidays and has been there ever since. Over the weekend, my dad came over to tell me what deep down I already knew we would be hearing. She was being moved to hospice.

Over the last month I have been though such a range of emotions. Worried, sad, mad because I felt like she was giving up on trying to get better ... and so damn guilty ... because every year I tell myself next year is the year that Al and I will take the boys to Florida for a vacation to stay with her. I thought we had all this time. My Great Grama (my Grama's mom), lived to be 96. I was a senior in high school when she passed. My Grama was a nurse. No, there would be so much more time to make it happen. And how can it be that THIS YEAR ... 2014 ... when Al and I thought we finally had a way to make Florida happen before the end of the year ... that this is happening.

There were days over the boys nearly two week winter vacation I could barely get myself out of bed. OK, I got out of bed ... but a good hour or so later than I should have with them home. I couldn't do much more than just get through the day. It was all I could think about.

Losing my Grandfather just a year ago still feels new somehow. Losing my other Grandfather - my Grama's husband - nearly eight years ago now ... I can't. He never even got to meet the twins. He held on before passing from Cancer just to meet my first baby.

I keep going back to wondering how we didn't have more time ... with any of them.

My grandparents moved to Florida when I was just 7, but we always remained very close. For years after my Grandfather passed I begged my Grama to move back here so I could help take care of her. Even though she didn't need taking care of. I just selfishly wanted her here with us. I wrote her a several page letter a few years back, pleading with her to come back and listing all the reasons why she needed to.

It took her a long time to write me back. She would often say she knew that she owed me a letter, but she wasn't ready to write it yet. Part of me held on to the hope that she would say she was ready to move back ... but deep down I knew it was because she didn't want to have to tell me no.

She has been able to come up from Florida a few times over the years and the boys have loved spending time with her. They haven't seen her in about two years now, but they feel so close to her. She is always sending them little cards and holiday themed packages. She never forgets even the littlest thing when it comes to them. I regret not taking the time to send her more things.

Before both of my Grandfathers passed away, I felt the need to tell them so many things. I called one the night before he passed away from Cancer and was able to get a few things out. I was not able to really tell the other one what I wanted before it was too late. I hope that they both knew how very much they meant to me.

Is it crazy that I can't call my Grama? Like I actually can not pick up the phone and call her. I start feeling sick even thinking about it. I can't catch my breath. I sent her a Christmas present and a few packages of pictures the boys drew her ... but I can't make that call. I don't know what to say. I also know that I have been able to say everything - in that letter - and she was able to say everything to me in mine. And that is pretty awesome because I know most people don't get to have that. I know that she knows how much I love her and I know how much she loves me. It is just breaking my heart to have to let her go because I am not ready. How can I be.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

But then I guess it never is.

It is an awful feeling knowing that you are going to be losing someone and you can't be there and you can't do anything about it. I had to tell the boys. But I couldn't really tell them. They knew she was sick, the Big Guy has been openly worrying about it. All I could do on Sunday morning was sit them down and tell them that she isn't getting any better. That we don't know what will happen but that the doctors at Hospice are doing all they can to take care of her and make her comfortable. And we overnighted some more pictures and handmade birthday cards for her.

This has been the reason for my silence. She has always been one of my biggest cheerleaders and I don't know what I will do without her. I'm not ready to let her go, even though it isn't my decision to make.

In pieces

Hitting that rut again. I stop by here every day, look around, open up a new post to start writing ... but nothing comes. It drives me crazy. I know I have so much to say ... but still nothing comes.

The week leading up to Thanksgiving it started hitting me. My Grandfather is gone and holidays will never again be the same. Much like the transition we made when I was a teenager and my Great Grandmother passed. And the transition we made again when Al's Grandmother passed. Families start to go their own way for so many reasons.

This change though? Really happened an entire year ago. After his heart attack in the fall, everything changed then. But it didn't seem permanent at the time. We weren't celebrating holidays together, he was spending months in the hospital, but it was not forever. It was just until he got better.

He passed away in January.

Instead of doing things together as a big family, we all do our own thing in pieces. And it isn't the same. Part of me would just like to take the kids away somewhere, make a new holiday tradition and not even be here. That isn't happening this year though.

My Grandmother in Florida had a heart attack just after Thanksgiving. The boys have been drawing her pictures to put in the mail and I wish we were closer so we could visit.

I wish I were more excited for Christmas, but right now I'm just not feeling it anymore. We didn't put the lights up outside the house this year ... I didn't even think we'd still be in this house for this Christmas ... and because of the giant dog in the house only the top half of the tree can be decorated. It's almost funny in a way.

We told the boys that next year the dog will be old enough where we should be able to decorate the entire tree ... and not have to leave all the decorations they love to play with on the top few shelves of the book case that are too high for them. Each time I move them to a lower shelf I find them right back in the dog's mouth. When he gets determined enough, he can reach higher than the kids.

Right now I just do not have the time - or the energy - to fight him for each piece. When the boys were toddlers we put the Superyard (gate) around the tree. Can't do that to keep the dog away.

I have to put my game face back on for the boys. The Yay it's Christmas! one. They are excited about so many things. When I dropped the boys at school this morning, the Bunny Bee told everyone in line that there were just 14 days left till Christmas! I hadn't even realized it.

And before those 14 days are up, we have a few more wrestling tournaments, a photo shoot, parties, the Big Guy's 8th birthday (someone hold me because this is not happening) and the movie comes out. It's also hitting me today that none of this movie business even happened until after my Grandfather passed. How is that possible? The auditions, the back and forth to Boston, filming ... and now the final product. He's been gone for all of it. Realizing that sort of takes my breath away.

So this is where I am today. Knowing that there is always so much to be thankful for ... but still having a hard time anyway. Damn writing is cathartic. A piece of me has known all of this the entire time, but until I sat here to put it all down I don't think I fully realized part of what has been bothering me.

Maybe I'll be back with a Wordless Wednesday photo later today, or a Throwback Thursday tomorrow. It might be slow going the next few days around here (but certainly not for a lack of things to do). I will get back to blogging like I always do.

October ups and downs

This last week has been so ... emotional. I have hated this week of October for more years than I care to count now. While the boys and I always look forward to the feast on the hill and the Columbus Day Parade, it still gets mixed up in the loss I can't help but associate that weekend with.

I felt a mess all week, but it took me a few days to figure out why. I felt - and still feel - so much guilt for not going to the cemetery this year. Why did I not go.

There were just so many ups and downs this week. The house showing that (again) didn't pan out was a definite down, as were some issues with school. I didn't work out at all - no runs, no fit squad. It seemed like each time I made a plan to do something, something else came up and I had no control.

But mixed in everywhere with all the things that made me sad or went wrong, were so many good things as well. Like getting to spend a few days watching my sweet little friend Belle.

The trailer coming out. Jumping up and down outside of gymnastics practice as Al and I watched on the iPad. The Bunny Bee. That line. Oh my gosh, that line. The boys getting to see it.

Watching Twitter explode.

Watching the boys at wrestling practice on Friday. Look closely at that pic. In the window and the doorway? All of the parents crowded around cheering and loving every second, as we realized how far all the boys have come in just a few short months.

Discussing the upcoming tournaments.

Celebrating my niece's 1st birthday!

Right now I am trying to remember to be thankful for each and every day, no matter how overwhelming things sometimes seem. While I will never forget the angel babies our family lost no matter how many years go by - we got to celebrate this sweetheart right here.

And in another month and a half?

We will welcome her little brother.

Saying goodbye

The last few days have been hard. Waking up to the news on Thursday that my grandfather had passed the night before was hard to take, even if I did go to bed expecting it. One by one as the boys got up I broke the news to them. I sent the Big Guy to school, I volunteered in Kindergarten that afternoon. I was trying to stick with the usual routine for the boys. My uncle and cousin stopped over with my parents after they flew in on Friday and it was so nice to see them - even though it was for an awful reason. That night I worked on gathering photos I had for the wake the next day and wished I had more time.

It was Saturday morning that I started feeling that anxiety ... over so many things. Knowing I was seeing my grandfather for the last time. Wondering if I was making the right decision by taking the boys. I was getting flashbacks of my completely falling apart at age 9 when my aunt Patti died and I was just questioning everything.

Along with my brother, we were actually the first to get to the funeral home. The boys carried in the collages I made and handed them over to someone inside and they suddenly seemed so grown up to me - even if they are only 5 and 7. We walked right to the back of the room and sat down at the wall. I had kept it together just fine till the moment the Big Guy took my hand to go see my grandfather. I showed him how to kneel down and he whispered to him that he loved him. We joined the twins and Al in the back of the room again.

After the deacon spoke, my Uncle Paul got up to say a few things and it was right there that I fell apart. I remember thinking I didn't want the boys to get nervous seeing me cry and yet the moment I started to cry they were all on top of me telling me it was OK and patting my arm and hand. Melted my heart. At the end we could all go up and take a flower that represented each one of us - kids, grandkids, great grandkids. I was surprised to find the twins pulling me by the hand to go up. Their bravery was amazing. The boys all knelt down and said goodbye while I got the flowers and we went outside to wait for everyone else to come out. I could not believe how well they all did. I'm still amazed and proud.

We had a nice afternoon at Chianti's (my grandfather's favorite restaurant), but by the time we got home I was drained. I felt a migraine coming on and I just laid down on my bed. The Doodle Bop hopped in to cuddle with me and I asked him if he was OK. He said Mommy I love you more than a heart. I love you as big as a giant volcano with red hot lava. It just might be the sweetest thing I have ever heard. I told him I loved him too.

Yesterday morning we were up for Hockey practice and kept busy with a birthday party then a late lunch at my parents house to say goodbye to my uncle and my cousin. I was so happy to see my grandmother there. I want to be able to fix everything for her but I know that it isn't possible.

This morning it was back to work and school. Al took the Big Guy in while I took the twins to the dentist. Even that was strange. My grandparents (and parents) go there too and my father had been there in the office on Wednesday when my grandmother called to say he needed to get to the hospital right away. Our dentist was very sweet and told me how much he really liked my grandfather and how sad he is about his passing.

It felt so strange. Going about life as usual again. Some things are the same, but some will never again be.

Struggling to still be Thankful

Finding it hard to find the good on this Thankful Thursday like I promised. On the way home from the wake last night for my friend's father, my own father called me. My grandfather was not doing well. Having just picked up the boys from my sister in law, they heard everything I said. And listened to me cry.

There was no getting around it. At home I sat the boys down and we had a talk about how Opa would soon be going to Heaven. The twins were really sad, but it was the Big Guy who fell apart. He was begging me to do something to help him stay here longer. It broke my heart that he cried himself to sleep. I barely slept last night. I kept waiting for him to wake back up and need me.

My dad called me first thing this morning to let me know that my grandfather had passed last night. I broke it to the boys as they got up one by one. My cousin called me and we had a long talk. Then it was back to getting the boys out the door to take the Big Guy to school. I almost didn't send him ... given how upset he had been the night before ... but I hoped it would take his mind off things being with his friends. I was thrilled to hear from his teacher that it did.

Today happened to be my day to volunteer in Kindergarten. I was putting packets together for the teacher as I hear the Doodle Bop loudly tell some friends that his Opa died.  In the moment it took me to turn around the Bunny Bee had chimed in and it felt like the entire class was listening. I was mouthing I'm sorry! to their teacher and trying to tell the boys we could talk about it at home. Their teacher was wonderful. She let them talk about it a little and handed me a children's book she happened to have in class to take home for the boys to read. I was so grateful. We have Dog Heaven at home (which is a big favorite), but nothing about someone passing away - and this being a book about a grandparent was just what they needed.

Just as I was starting to feel relaxed, I heard the Doodle Bop tell another friend that they were making his Opa ashes and putting him into little boxes called urns. Not exactly what I'd said. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. I distracted him with something and that was that.

After school we came home and read the book together. The boys had me pull up some photos. This one is their favorite. The thing about this photo right here... I don't know how to feel about it. It is the last photo I have of the boys and my grandparents together.

Labor Day weekend. My grandfather seemed totally fine and yet before they left the house I had this nagging feeling I still can not explain. I actually had the thought that I needed a photo because I would never get another one. Which shocked me even then. Of course there will be more photos I told myself. I took the photo, hugged my grandparents and wondered why I even had that thought.

A week or two later my phone rang while I was at the Big Guy's soccer practice. My grandfather had a major heart attack. And you know the rest. He fought for months ... until last night when it was all just too much. The boys did not get to see him again and this is the last photo of them. I still can't completely wrap my head around that one.

This may not be the Thankful Thursday post I had in mind, but there are things I am thankful for today. I am thankful that I had my grandfather for 35 years. Even if he hated that I loved Kurt Cobain back when I was 16 (and totally let me have it in no uncertain terms). I am thankful that he supported me, told me he was proud of my writing and got to know my kids. I am thankful that my boys got to have a Great Grandfather that they loved and are old enough to remember always. And lastly I am thankful that he is now at peace ... even if it isn't how I wanted things to turn out.

It is going to be so hard to say goodbye.

Getting back on track

I know I have been kind of quiet lately.

That will be changing.

Four straight weeks of being sick might just be a new record for me and I have been totally wiped out. This entire time I have been trying to get extra rest where I can, while still running around everywhere with the boys. Which I'm sure brings me right back to why I've been sick for a month now. And in the middle of all that, a friend's small daughter was diagnosed with Cancer while another friend unexpectedly lost her dad.

Roller coaster of emotions lately. Part of me would like to blurt my every thought out here, but its one of those things I need to keep in. (As I silently curse no longer having that anonymous blog.)

I may not have started off the New Year with the bang I was looking for health wise or career wise... but I'm getting there. Finalizing some things first. Then watch out for me!

Over the weekend I had my first hockey mom fail. The morning we were supposed to get the boys all signed up, we overslept. Well, we did manage to get up before the rink time but it was so late we couldn't get the boys moving fast enough. And then I went back to bed to again try sleeping off this cold. Here's to tomorrow night for starting over again!

Tomorrow morning the Big Guy also has his Occupational Therapy evaluation. It feels like it has taken so long to get the ball rolling through all the red tape. I am excited to hear what they say for his sake. I am also beyond thrilled with how supportive his teacher is as the smaller things are becoming the tougher things for him. It used to be the other way around.

I hope to be back blogging again tomorrow, but it will be a busy day. Two hours with the boys for the Big Guy's PT and OT eval in the morning, school, hockey (hopefully) and attending the wake for my dear friend's dad. One thing I can be sure of... I won't be skipping this week's Thankful Thursday. Getting myself back on track.

2 years

Love to my Michael and Gianna today.  Can't believe it's been 2 years in Heaven. 

Columbus Day

Columbus Day Weekend is upon us! 

And I am trying to feel the excitement.  Due to the surgery Al has mentioned maybe it's better just to stay home from the parade this year so I can rest... but to that I said we are going if you have to pull me up the hill in the boys big red wagon.  He laughed, but I'm sort of serious.  The boys are excited and I am intent on creating new happy memories of the weekend every year.

What was once one of my all time favorite weekends has been a little mixed up between love and loss lately.  Two years.  When we marked the first year I felt like I could take a breath and finally let a small piece of it go.  The hurt was no longer as raw as it used to be, though it certainly had not left.  I found myself getting excited for the parade this year when it hit me we are now marking 2 years and the tears came.  The events are separate but all tied in together.  The boys no longer remember now that they have grown, but it will stay with me forever. 

I'm a bit all over the place with this post I know.  I may not post much this weekend as I take my own time to remember, spend time with my family and make new memories as well.  Monday's post is prepared and ready to go then.  For now, have a great weekend and give the ones you love a big hug because life is just too short.

At a loss

Sometimes I can not understand what is wrong with this world. 

I can not fathom what makes people do certain things.  The shooting at the IHOP in Nevada on Tuesday.  Yesterday morning my husband and his friends realized they lost a former classmate and friend in the tragedy.

Maj. Heath Kelly. 

It was only a few weeks ago I posted about the loss of another old friend Brian Bill.  While they are both terrible losses, this one hits me hard.  I did not know Heath but my heart breaks for his wife and two small children.  It is so ....senseless.  Not that it is any easier for the families, but Brian was in another country fighting the war. 

Heath?  He was just sitting in a restaurant like we have all done, eating breakfast with some friends and coworkers.  Horrifying to me that someone could come in and start shooting people they do not even know, or based on the uniform they were wearing that day.  I can't wrap my head around the fact that now this family is without a husband and father... for what... why.

My thoughts and prayers go out to his family and friends.