tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50614066856636801162024-03-13T07:15:05.791-05:00I Will Rise...A blog about life and loss.Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-58537373581605218062011-03-10T10:21:00.000-06:002011-03-10T10:21:15.950-06:00Guess I should update here...I've not been in the blogging mood lately. Don't know why just have not been here.<br />
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I'm doing well. Still frustrated to not have a job and have some other things going on but I'm here today to ask for prayers and thoughts.<br />
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My grandpa (my dad's dad) just had some biopsies done. He has a mass on his lung, in his stomach and his lymph nodes are affected. Please pray for the doctors and for our family.<br />
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I will update when we know more.Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-12147507752944175672011-01-08T10:24:00.000-06:002011-01-08T10:24:45.271-06:002011. The Year in Which He Will Not Be In<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I've been struggling. This post has been rolling around in my head for weeks and I just haven't been able to get it into words.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A new year. A new start. So new that he will not see it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">For 32 years my dad was in my life. He was there. I might not have wanted him around sometimes but he was there anyway. He will never see 2011. He will never write down 2011 on a check. He will not be there to see me turn 33 or see Gigi turn 6. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have to say that my Daddy died "last year." It was last year that I last heard my dad's voice and was able to ask him for advice. Last year when it was still my "parents" house instead of just my mom's. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Last year that cancer invaded our family and my dad's brain. Last year that we held vigil by his bed for long days. Last year that he went through chemo and radiation. Last year that I lost my job and my dad was the one to pick me up by my boot straps. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Last year.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">But a new year holds promises of new beginnings. New jobs. New ages. New experiences. I know he with me in my heart. I sometimes just still wish he could be here in person.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-1719085822062710622010-12-30T08:41:00.000-06:002010-12-30T08:41:15.542-06:00We Made It<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It wasn't "normal." It wasn't necessarily "Merry." But we made it. We made it through Christmas. It was hard, but not as hard as I had built it up to be in my mind. It helped that we did something completely different from every other year and traveled to see family. Usually we would just go to my Mama and Daddy's house. We did do that on the 23rd and that was probably the hardest day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br />
We opened our gifts that night so we didn't have to pack those too. No one would sit in my Daddy's chair. Except for little Nono. Nono has always been called "Little D" due to the fact that he looks and acts (and has a temper like) my Daddy. Nono sat in that chair like it was his and it made my heart smile. Somehow anyone else sitting in that chair would have made it that much harder. <br />
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The kids had fun. The adults made it through and that's what matters. </span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-87345575329312170712010-12-22T14:53:00.000-06:002010-12-22T14:53:06.607-06:00This is Happening...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It's hitting me today. This whole Christmas thing is ACTUALLY going to happen...without my Daddy. The trees are up. The presents purchased (but not wrapped because something has to be left for the last minute, right?). </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But there is such a big hole. Huge. Ginormous. There is no shopping for him this year. No trying to find the perfect gift for a hard to buy for man. No excitement from me because I found that something that was just *right* for him. Every year I took it as a challenge to find him something. Every year I somehow pulled it off and didn't resort to a musical tie or ridiculous socks. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So for the past few weeks I've been going through the motions. Being excited with Gigi but hurting inside. Thinking maybe if I just ignored it - it would happen. It would go away. It wouldn't hurt so bad. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But that is not to be. So here I sit, with Christmas Eve fast approaching and knowing that we will not be eating our traditional barbeques and oyster stew for dinner. We won't be having caramel rolls for breakfast Christmas morning at my Mama and Daddy's house while the kids playing with their new toys. We won't have prime rib or everyone's favorite prime rib sandwiches after Christmas dinner. We will just have those memories. Somehow that doesn't seem like enough.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We will be traveling this year - to be away from here. Away from the memories of Christmases past. Away from happy memories. Yes, you can call it running away. I'm okay with that. None of us can stay here this year without him. So I'm thankful for my aunt and uncle who are welcoming us into their home for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Christmas isn't supposed to be sad. It is supposed to be about the birth of our Savior. This year I'm having a hard time celebrating that fabulous birth without remember the great death that we suffered this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Merry Christmas in Heaven Daddy. I miss you so much and can't believe that we have to celebrate this year without you. My heart is broken.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-90073436601245037102010-12-09T16:42:00.000-06:002010-12-09T16:42:41.433-06:00December 2 - Writing<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hmmm...I do A LOT each day that doesn't contribute to my writing. But honestly I don't want to change it. Unless I start making money from this little blog THEN I would consider eliminating the things I do each day that distract me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The list is long...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*Gigi</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*The Internet</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*reading other blogs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*Twitter</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*my "stories" LOL</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'd like a job. Then we'll talk about eliminating things!!</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-13290536140767369762010-12-09T16:39:00.000-06:002010-12-09T16:39:36.379-06:00December 1 - One Word<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Yes I know that it is December 9th but as part of Reverb 10 I will do a post from each day starting with December 1st. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The Prompt for December 1st is One Word.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">One Word, huh? My one word for December would be...HARD. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">2010 has been a hard year. From the very beginning of the year I had hope that it would be a good year. I rang in 2010 snuggled up with my little girl by my side and just *knew* it was going to be a good year. Apparently I was wrong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">From my mom's concussion, to losing my job 3 days after I turned 32, to my dad having health issues that turned into a brain tumor that turned in to brain surgery that turned into brain cancer and an infection that ultimately killed him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We had plans. Plans for the future. Plans for the present. Plans. We didn't know that last Christmas was our last Christmas with my Daddy. We didn't know that our little family being snowed in last year with Daddy reading the Christmas story from the Bible and singing Silent Night with candles would be our last Christmas memories of him. Us all wearing our matching jammies (even him!) on Christmas morning. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It's hard to know that this year will be so...different. Everything is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">2010 - it was HARD.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-75902804229983282572010-12-08T22:16:00.000-06:002010-12-08T22:16:54.473-06:00Haven't blogged in awhile...just haven't been in the mood. Christmas is hard :(<br />
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There is a project going on called <a href="http://www.reverb10.com/">Reverb 10</a> that I should've started blogging about on December 1st but I didn't so I'm going to start tomorrow. Basically the premise is that the website provides prompts for each day of December to reflect on 2010. It's 10:15 so I'm not going to start tonight but will do a couple tomorrow and couple the next day until I catch up. <br />
<br />
Until then...Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-87496858667975585592010-11-24T22:20:00.000-06:002010-11-24T22:20:28.772-06:00Thanksgiving<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. A day that used to be fun and full of eating and a day this year that is filled with trepidation, fear and sadness. This will be the first real holiday without my Daddy. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Even though he is not here there are so many things to be thankful for. It's time to count my blessings and not dwell on the fact that he is not here.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that I got to have a Daddy for 32 years. Some people don't get that. I'm thankful that I have so many wonderful memories of him and can remember all the fun we had and the laughs we shared and try to forget the fights and the bad times. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that he loved me so much and that I had the opportunity to love him. I'm thankful that both of my parents "rescued" me and helped me get on my feet. I'm thankful that I still have my wonderful Mama and that we will be together for Thanksgiving this year. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that we have the kids - who are forcing the adults to BE adults and not wallow in our sadness during this holiday. I'm thankful that I got to spend so many Thanksgivings with my family so that we have memories like putting up the Christmas lights, Daddy always washing the dishes to put in the dishwasher (beginning the "why are you washing the dishes before we put the dishes in the dishwasher" argument), eating pumpkin pie, drinking red wine (even though Daddy loved the dry icky stuff - he was always nice and shared), and there are so many others.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that each one of his grandkids got to at least meet him even if the won't have many memories of him. He loved those kids...and they loved him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that we didn't know that last year was our last Thanksgiving with him...our last Christmas...our last everything. I think of my friend E, whose mother is dying of cancer, and how each and every holiday it is known that is *could* be the last. I admire their strength to be able to get through it. We just have memories of the holidays being good. Of him sitting in the chair reading the Christmas story from the Bible last Christmas Eve because the roads were too bad to get to church. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that he taught me to fight for ME. I'm having some health issues and am frustrated but will keep on seeking answers because "I don't know" is NOT a good enough answer for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful that we got the chance to say goodbye. Even if we didn't want to...he left this earth knowing just how much he was loved and he left each one of us with the knowledge of how much he loved us. I'm thankful that I know that when he left this earthly life there was eternal life waiting for him. I'm thankful for my faith and the people that have taught me to believe so I know that this was not the end for him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I'm thankful for his friends - who have been so diligent on checking up on my Mama and making sure she is okay. I'm thankful for the friends that have checked up on all of us, knowing that this time of the year is not an easy one.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Today for the first time I had to go through my medical history and actually add that my father was in fact deceased and had cancer. That was HARD. I'm not going to lie, there were tears. But the friendly nurse and doctor was so great. Like they were sent to be here at this time to give me some comfort. They both said, "that's so hard. I'm so sorry." and meant it. It *is* hard. It sucks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Please remember to keep all of us in your prayers, to get through this difficult time without my Daddy. To figure out a way to find joy in this season for the kids while the adults would like to curl up and make the whole season just go away. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><br />
I'm thankful that part of the reason that this time of the year is so hard is that my family always made our holidays special. We may not have always had a huge amount of presents or even got along but I was always acutely aware that I was loved. I knew that my family was doing their best to make memories. I cherish those now.<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving (to all my American friends at least - sorry Canadians I'm a little late!). I'm certainly going to count my blessings while we try to get through the day. </span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-90603509728744219972010-11-18T04:03:00.000-06:002010-11-18T04:03:16.729-06:00Insomnia<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It's 3:55 am as I write this. I'm awake and have not been sleeping tonight. Some of it is due to the fact that I cannot shut my brain off and some is because I have a kidney infection and it HURTS.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am in pain. The medication is not working. I had thoughts of going to the ER the other night but the logistics of it are a nightmare (do I call my mom and have her come stay with Gigi and go myself? A neighbor?). It was easier not to go and be in pain. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Then I thought more about it. I have not set foot in that hospital since the early morning hours of July 13th. I was there every single day for almost three weeks, my Mama basically lived there and my Daddy died there. The ER doors are the doors I entered the night he died. Can I even go back there?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I know that I will eventually need to someday. Eventually I will need to go to the hospital for something but knowing that's the last place I saw my Daddy alive is a hard pill to swallow. Knowing that we all had hope that he would not die there but die at home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">One step forward and two steps back - isn't that what they say? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I was doing really well for awhile and now feel like I've had some sort of setback. Maybe it's the fact that I don't feel well. Or the fact that the holidays are fast approaching. I don't want to celebrate this year but we will for the kids. I don't want a Thanksgiving or Christmas without my Daddy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">*sigh*</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-53126462506132842712010-11-05T21:59:00.000-05:002010-11-05T21:59:38.442-05:00My Gigi...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I just need to write about my Gigi. She is the most loving, caring, cool 5 year old kiddo ever. She can read me and knows when I need a hug, need a kiss or just need her to snuggle up to me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Gigi and I have pretty much always been joined at the hip. Immediately when I found out I was pregnant I *knew* that it was my daughter. Even as a tiny baby she picked up on the smallest piece of discontent and wouldn't be happy til her Mama was happy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Tonight my little baby girl (because yes, at 5 I still call her that and will when she is 25) looked at me and just said, "You are the best Mama in the whole world. You take such good care of me and I just love you so much." She has been throwing me kisses and hearts since I picked her up from school. She told me she saved up 100 kisses for me at school and on our way home she smooched every single one of those at me from the backseat of the car. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Through all the sleepless nights, the crying, the literal fights to get her to sleep, the night terrors, the crying, the sleepless nights (and did I mention the crying? ) she has been HER. A little person with a big personality. A Drama Queen at her finest. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I knew unconditional love before Gigi came along. I knew that from my parents who loved me even when I screwed up. But I did not realize how INTENSE that unconditional love could be. Of course I would do anything for this child - but it's not just anything. I would go to the ends of the earth to make her happy and you know what? She would do the same for me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">"I just love you Mommy...too much" is a familiar phrase in our house. As is, "Mama I heart you." She decided tonight that instead of please that our magic word should be heart. As in, "Mama could you heart help me get this on?" Goofy girl. Just another way of her showing her love. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">She fell asleep snuggled up with me tonight on the couch. When I moved her to bed she opened her eyes slightly and purred. "I heart you Mama," she murmured and purred again. The child that I love so much and loves me back also thinks she is a kitty when she is sleeping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Last year I took part in the "everyday post something you are greatful for on Facebook" challenge. I am not taking part this year. Not because I'm not thankful but because it still is hard to find the good in things somedays when I am so sad. Plus my friends don't want to hear "I'm thankful for Gigi who makes me laugh," or "I'm thankful for my baby girl who loves me more than I deserve." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So I'll use my blog instead. Tonight I am very thankful for my Gigi. My heart. My baby. I love her more than she will ever know or realize - and I'm beginning to think the feeling is mutual.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-23384041642164521542010-11-03T22:27:00.000-05:002010-11-03T22:27:06.673-05:00Gifts<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love giving gifts. I love picking up on little hints even if people don't know they are hints and surprising someone with a thoughtful gift that even they didn't realize how badly they wanted. I've been known to wrap up all sorts of little trinkets and let someone unwrap them all and then "whoops" I forgot the card. Give that to them last and in the card it says the trinkets are just for show that their REAL gift is tickets to a sporting event. (I took my now ex-husband to a Chiefs game - he is a lifelong fan and had never seen them in Kansas City - I scored excellent tickets and took him to a game - yes, I rock :) )</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I've been known to buy something in February for a Christmas gift (and then sometimes I forget I have it and then get something different and then find it randomly the next June and give a 'just because' gift). I LIKE doing this. No one in my life has ever lived up to my expectations in this department because I think everyone should be like me and able to pick up on things. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My Daddy? He was possibly the hardest person to buy gifts for. He was the man who had everything and then some. And if he wanted something? There was no patience, he would buy it for himself. So gift giving was always...a treat with him. I would sometimes resort to gift cards to his favorite pilot store because a. I knew he would put it to good use and b. I didn't have a gajillion dollars to buy what he REALLY wanted from that store.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One year just after he had purchased his Cessna 182 - affectionately known as Ruby - I bought him a pilots bag in blazing red to match. He didn't know he wanted it. But he LOVED that bag. He used it everytime he took Ruby for a little fly. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One year I bought him an airplane of shiny polished wood from a kiosk in the mall. He didn't even know that something like it existed but I think he liked it. He put it up in his office.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Last year? The mans slippers were falling apart. Me, being me, noticed this and decided to get him new ones. I found some wonderful sheepskin slippers with a hard bottom on them so they could be worn outside to get the paper in the mornings. He liked them and didn't even realize he needed them until he got them. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I purchased those slippers from a kiosk in the mall (note: if you have a hard to buy for person on your gift giving list - the holiday kiosks in the mall have fun stuff!). I spent a small fortune on sheepskin slippers so he could replace the ugly old worn out ones.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">He wore them. For a few months. And now? The kiosk in the mall is back. I walked past it last night and just got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I then had what I would call a rough night for the rest of it. Crying on and off and unable to sleep. Unsettled. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I didn't realize until about 4:00 this morning that the reason I was unsettled was because of that stupid kiosk. It's back. That means the holidays are fast approaching. That means we will have one less person with us this year. That means those slippers that I bought him last year are sitting still looking brand new without feet to go in them. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And you know what? IT'S NOT FAIR. It's not fair that he didn't get to wear his slippers more. It's not fair that we didn't know that last Thanksgiving would be our last with him. It's not fair that while we were snowed in on Christmas Eve and we gathered around him and listened to the Christmas story as he read from the Bible will be the last Christmas memory I have of him. It's NOT FAIR.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">He always gave my Mama gorgeous jewelry for Christmas that was purchased on either December 23 or 24. He would go in to the jewelry store and pick something out and THEN look at the price. It didn't matter. He would then have the jewelry store wrap it or bring it back to the house for K or I to wrap. It was always exciting on Christmas Eve for Mama to have a little box to open. It was a surprise what color would be in there. Would it be blue? Pink? Or just the shiny white ones? He spoiled her and she deserved it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It's NOT FAIR that we will have to give thanks for all that we have all the while we are angry for what is missing. There will be no wine on our Thanksgiving table this year because Daddy was the only one who really drank any. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We will not be spending our sacred Christmas holidays at Mama's house. It's too painful for all of us. Christmas was OUR thing. It was OUR night. Oyster Stew, Barbecues, opening presents, grasshoppers, caramel rolls in the morning. Mama and her many trees. Daddy making fun of the many trees but yet somehow had pictures of EVERY.SINGLE.ONE. of them to show off to people who asked.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It's just NOT FAIR. I want to struggle to find his gift. I want to wrap his little boxes for Mama. I want to tease him about being the guy out shopping on Christmas Eve. I want to go back to last year when we were snowed in at their house and shake myself and make me realize that it was last Christmas we would spend with him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">As we start to enter the holidays I am acutely aware of how different things are. Of how different they will be. I honestly would like to just skip ahead to about March 1st. That way Thanksgiving, Christmas, my birthday and Valentine's Day will all be over. The hurt that I know is coming will be a memory and not an anxiety induced dread.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It helps that there is not yet snow on the ground. It helps knowing that this year is Gigi's year with me for Christmas. It helps knowing that we will be in a different location (looks like the exotic locale of Bismarck, ND is calling our name for Christmas). It helps knowing that we need to put on our happy faces for the kids. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">But it doesn't make it really any easier. And really? It doesn't make it more fair either. Life is not fair...I know this. Life is not easy...I know this as well. I just hope and pray that for the next few months that life is as fair and as easy as it can be, for all of our sakes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">*sigh* Is it spring yet? </span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-85885672434132570142010-10-31T00:19:00.001-05:002010-10-31T00:30:05.874-05:00Learning<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I try to learn something new everyday. It may not be a huge skill and maybe only a little factoid (speaking of - did you know the pieces from the game of Tetris are called "Tetriminos?" There were some college kids dressed up as them today and I told them that little tidbit. They didn't look at me like I was crazy. At all. *sigh*).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Today I learned several things.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">1. I may be coming out of the dark so to speak. The depression that has enveloped me probably since my Daddy's diagnosis is starting to look a little brighter. There really may be a blazing sun at the end of this super long tunnel. Took long enough and if my Daddy was here? He would be SO ANGRY at me for being sad this long.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">2. I like being busy again. I had a meeting this morning for a super secret project (haha now you wanna know!), a football game at 1:00 (my Augie Vikings? 9-0. 9-0! So proud to be a Viking fan today. A blue and gold Viking fan that is), church at 5:00 and then my Mama and I booked it to the Augie volleyball game to see the last 10 minutes of play. Game started at 5:30 but we were at church so we just came late.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">3. Confirmation weekend? Not a good time to bring friends to church who are wanting to check out my church. We had a baptism, a milestone and then confirmation. Along with communion. Not usually indicative of our normal services. Great to see, yes but when I tell the Z family that our church is pretty casual and jeans are just fine and then a bunch of people show up dressed to the nines because they are visitors to our church and are there for confirmation? (Holy run on sentence batman!) Makes me look like a liar. And afterall, I am on the top of the sinner list. My pastor told me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">4. I was asked to transcribe an interview for my volunteer job. I'm an AWFUL transcriber. Seriously. Really bad. Especially when people talk fast. Maybe that's a hint to me to SLOW DOWN. Huh...imagine that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Those are just things I learned TODAY!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This week I also learned that it's fun to use my brain again. I'm volunteering on the PR team at the American Cancer Society of South Dakota. I feel smart. I feel like maybe my fancy edumacation might lead somewhere. It feels WONDERFUL to talk to adults in a business setting again. I love it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I learned that Gigi is doing brilliantly at school. I had her first parent/teacher conference and her teacher just kept telling me how kind and considerate she was to others. It was almost enough for me to tear up. Almost. She needs to work on slowing down too, when she is drawing and writing. Other than that she is resourceful and a joy to have in class! Yay Gigi! I was bursting after that conference. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I learned that Gigi's school can still lose her. LOL. Wednesday evening activities didn't go as planned and when I got to school to pick her up we couldn't find her. Deja vu much? I found her safe and sound with her church school friends but was thinking - seriously? Seriously. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I learned that giving a box of Cupcake Pebbles to a five year old to snack on (or "cupcake petals" as they are referred to here) is NOT a good idea. Everywhere. They are EVERYWHERE.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I also learned that that same five year old will look at me and say, "Mama, my tummy hurts" and it will be less than five seconds before the puke hits the floor. FIVE SECONDS. Warning. I need warning!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I learned that Family Ties, Doogie Howser MD and The Wonder Years are on TV again. It's like my childhood! Alex P. Keaton - I will always love you. The Hub rocks. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">The biggest thing that I learned this week? That I can still be sad. I can still miss my Daddy. I can still love my Daddy. But I don't have to cry all the time. I will let the tears come when they want and I know that there may be more bad days than good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I know that my Daddy would be proud of me for my new "job." Not only am I using my brain but I'm using it for good. Working with the American Cancer Society means that I might make a difference. I might be part of something that saves someone else's Daddy. And that's what I want. I don't want anyone to go through the pain of losing their beloved Daddy because it hurts. A lot. And the whole will never go away. We will just learn to live around it.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-4159240746394462022010-10-26T21:15:00.000-05:002010-10-26T21:15:09.891-05:00Unexpected Mail :)<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I had a card sized envelope that I received in the mail. It was addressed to *me* from the address of Buttercup, Gigi's BFF that moved away. Strange I thought. <br />
<br />
I opened it up and found a lovely sympathy card with a simple note to let me know that they are still thinking about and praying for us. I so appreciate that! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Enclosed in the card was a silver heart in a little plastic bag and a card that said:</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><strong>The Reunion Heart</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Since Heaven has become your home</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I sometimes feel I'm so alone</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and though we now are far apart</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">you hold a big piece of my heart</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I never knew how much I'd grieve</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">when it was time for you to leave,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">or just how much my heart would ache</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">from that one fragment you would take.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">God lets this tender hole remain</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">reminding me we'll meet again,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and one day all the pain will cease</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">when He restores this missing piece.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">He'll turn to joy my every tear</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">with thoughts of you I hold so dear,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">and they'll become my special way</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">to treasure our Reunion Day</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">(<a href="http://www.reunionheart.com/">The Reunion Heart</a> was designeed as a symbol of God's promise of a reunion in heaven where there will be no more tears)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It just fit onto the chain that I wear daily with my cross so now it looks like this</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L8Q6eBwds14/TMeJXlcQ-UI/AAAAAAAAAE4/XC0q0owG1hM/s1600/Reunion+Heart+necklace+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L8Q6eBwds14/TMeJXlcQ-UI/AAAAAAAAAE4/XC0q0owG1hM/s320/Reunion+Heart+necklace+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L8Q6eBwds14/TMeJbzLGGqI/AAAAAAAAAE8/fGEO_fHKxxI/s1600/Reunion+Heart+necklace+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L8Q6eBwds14/TMeJbzLGGqI/AAAAAAAAAE8/fGEO_fHKxxI/s320/Reunion+Heart+necklace+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> (the back reads: God will wipe away your tears)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Thank you so much A family for this awesome surprise in my mailbox today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Gigi and I had a very tough conversation tonight. She knows that Papa donated his body and it's at the medical school right now so that the students can learn about his cancer. So she asked me, "Mama? What if they find something in Papa that can make him be alive again?"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">*sigh* How do you explain to a 5 year old that isn't going to happen? I explained the story of the <a href="http://www.rainbowsbridge.com/Belovedhearts/stories/Doris-WaterbugsandDragonflies-632617144169637500.aspx">Waterbugs and Dragonflies </a>again and that Papa couldn't come back to earth. She was sad that she would never see him again.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am sad too. On Thursday, I start as an intern/volunteer helping with public relations for the South Dakota chapter of the American Cancer Society. It will be a few hours a week to keep my mind busy and to actually use my brain again. I'm excited. And the first person I wanted to call? My Daddy. He would be excited for me too. I know he is actually. I just wish I had a direct line to Heaven so I could talk to him and he could talk back. This one sided conversation stuff is not cutting it :)</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-46090570083659330862010-10-25T18:11:00.000-05:002010-10-25T18:11:17.031-05:00Happy Birthday...<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">TO YOU!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Happy Birthday to You!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Happy Birthday dear K!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Happy Birthday to Yoooooouuuuuu!!!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">It's my sister, K's birthday! She is old. I love her anyway. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Gigi, Mama and I spent the weekend at K's house with her family. We watched Lulu play in a volleyball tournament and then went to their tiny church on Sunday morning. Interesting to go to such a small church when we usually attend such a big one. There was a children's sermon and 4 of the 6 children that were up front for it were sitting in our pew and therefore our family. LOL.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Its still hard at times when the whole family is together. Something is so glaringly missing. I did have my first dream about my Daddy while at my sister's house this weekend. I won't write about it now because it contains some choice words (from him of course), but it was nice to see him in my dreams.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have an interview tomorrow for an (unpaid) internship/volunteer position in public relations for the local chapter of The American Cancer Society. Wish me luck! I'm trying to dredge up some articles and press releases to show her samples of my writing. It will at least give me something to do with my time if I'm "hired."</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-45987571566287741592010-10-21T22:01:00.000-05:002010-10-21T22:01:06.827-05:00I don't want to be broken anymore...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Music is a big part of my life. I'm not a singer but I sing anyway. I listen to the radio in the car, my iPod in bed and when on the computer and sing along to the songs overhead in stores (yes, I'm THAT person. It's annoying. But deal with it, mmmmkay? :) ). Song lyrics speak to me. I like to pretend that I can sing along with them and sound good but all would not agree.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My ex-husband used to ask me why I used to sing so loudly. Well, the answer to that is I only have one volume for singing. Loud. If you don't like it? Don't play music I like (which he would gladly do and change the radio to an am sports station and I would pout. LOL.) In the car? I am Carrie freaking Underwood. I sound AWESOME. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have a playlist on my iPod entitled "Hope." I have listened to this playlist on a continuous loop for a couple months now. Most, if not all of the songs are Christian and are trying to tell me that even though this may be a crappy time - there is hope out there. I turned the iPod on tonight - not feeling particularly down or particularly good. The first song? Alive by Avalon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A bit of the lyrics:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I don't want to be broken anymore</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Living life in a million pieces</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I can see my world is changing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Waking me from my sleeping</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I hear You calling, it's speaking my name</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I will never be the same</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I <strong>DON'T</strong> want to be broken anymore. I want to be happy. I want to wake up in the morning and not have the crushing blow that my Daddy is no longer on this earth hit me. I'm not selfish enough to wish him back, but I miss him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My life has been in a million pieces and not just because of my Daddy's death. It was breaking before he died and flat out shattered after he was gone. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But you know what? I can see my world changing. I do feel like I may be waking up from the sleeping or from the dark place I was in. I hear God calling me to do something, anything, but be sad 24/7. I will never be the same anymore because now I have experienced true loss. No one could ever come out of the other side of that an unchanged person. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My Daddy would be so angry at me for being so sad for so long. He would say, "Get OVER it already." He wasn't one to dwell. But I think he deserves some dwelling. I think that everyone that loves him deserves to be sad that this man is not on the earth anymore. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I will admit that I am still looking for signs. I want a sign from him. A dream. Anything. I just want to know that he is looking over me and watching me. Maybe I haven't had a sign because he isn't watching me because I have been so sad. After all, Heaven is perfect - I can't believe that he can look down and see us all being sad. That would not be perfect for him. So maybe I need to be happy to get my signs from him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I got a new phone last week because it was time for an upgrade. My Daddy was nearly an original adopter of cell phones. That man had a phone attached to his ear for a good 15 years if not 20. He got me my first phone when I went away to college so I myself have had a cell phone for 14 years. Daddy always got frustrated with his phones. My new phone? Has been acting up already. The Verizon guy nearly needed to talk me down from a panic attack because my phone froze yesterday and it hadn't worked for <em>30 minutes. 30 MINUTES!</em> What if something had happened in that 30 minutes? If Gigi was hurt? Or I got an important e-mail (y'know like that someone commented on my blog?). Seriously. I need to get a grip.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After that freakout I realized maybe that was my Daddy's way of messing with me. Funny joke Daddy. Please don't make me freak out again. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Or? Maybe my Daddy is giving me signs of verses or songs that I should review. I was in a waiting room the other day and there was a picture of some football player and an article with it. I didn't read the article but very clear in the picture you could see the words "James 1: 2-3" tattooed on his arm. Hmmmm...I wonder what that verse was?</span><br />
<br />
<strong><sup><span style="font-size: x-small;"><blockquote><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">2</span></sup></strong>Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, <sup class="versenum" id="en-NIV-30254"><strong><span style="font-size: x-small;">3</span></strong></sup>because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.</span></blockquote></span></sup></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Interesting. Like when the song I wrote about last time popped into my head. Or the song that I heard tonight. Is my Daddy sending me scripture and songs? SOOOOOO not his style. But someone knew I needed to read it. I can't help but think it was him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Last week on the 13th was 3 months since my Daddy passed away. I observed that day by finally watching the DVD that we made for his memorial. I won't lie and say it wasn't hard. But I was ready. I was ready to see my smiling, alive, funny Daddy. It didn't make me miss him more (because I don't think I can) or miss him less. It was just...him. Pictures of him with his friends, pictures of him with Mama, with K and I, and with his grandkids. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Last weekend Lulu shot her first pheasant while hunting at "Papa's lodge." She has a couple surrogate Papa's that will make sure she gets to hunt - something Daddy loved to do. He was so proud of her that day I know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We all miss him terribly. Sometimes it's still hard to realize he is gone. My Mama's home phone number is still in my phone as "Mom and Dad home" and his cell phone number is still in my phone. I downloaded new ringtones last night and for just a moment was thinking of what would be funny for his. Then I realized that he doesn't need a ringtone anymore. Its those dumb things that send me into a crying jag, but I did find an awesome one for K and for my Mama :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But if I didn't cry? I wouldn't be healing. I wouldn't be Alive like the song says. I don't want to be broken anymore....and I'm working on it.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-15394824113947318452010-10-16T19:03:00.000-05:002010-10-16T19:03:05.846-05:00Randomness<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This may be the most random blog entry every but...eh...whatever :)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'm annoyed at buying winter clothes for Gigi. It gets VERY cold here so I need warm, stylish AND affordable. Not finding much. Got her a coat, hat and mittens today. Paid $75 (!!) for boots but am returning them. That's ridiculous to spend for a 5 year old. I'm annoyed that I can't find anything that meets my standards (rated to at least -20 and removable liner). Apparently I have high ones. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Speaking of which...I stopped at a furniture store today. Found a bedroom set I love love LOVE. $10,000. $10,000!!! Are you kidding me? I saw another one I liked too $7,000. Of course those were "retail" prices and they were willing to knock 25% off. The saleswoman looked at me and told me I had expensive taste. Really? I already knew that. My Daddy taught me to appreciate nice furniture. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The political ads in South Dakota are getting absolutely ridculous. Stupid. Idiotic. I'm tired of mudslinging. I'm ready to vote for Miss Piggy instead of either candidate. Is it election day yet?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I got a new phone this week. An update of my old BlackBerry Curve. It's shiny and pink and I lurve it. Hopefully it will facilitate in me getting a new job. How? I'm not sure.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Anyway...I felt the need to have a blog post. And I don't really have much to say so I figured I'd rely on my natural sense of randomness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You know what else is cool? Home Alone on TV. That rocks.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-39800300055053859412010-10-09T22:28:00.000-05:002010-10-09T22:28:33.158-05:00Good Message<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Gigi and I went to church today after a fun filled day. It's homecoming at my alma mater so we hit the parade this morning (ask her how much candy she got) and then we went to the football game (ask us how wet we got when it started raining and we had walked to the game!). One of my good friends from college was here along with her husband and parents and it was AWESOME to see them this weekend. They had made the trek down for the memorial service but it was nice to actually be able to chat and remember our conversations (as I don't remember much about what happened in the week after my Daddy passed away). I have known these people since I was Gigi's age and they just enveloped us in love this weekend.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We have had unseasonably warm temps here in SoDak and we have taken advantage of that by spending any extra time outside enjoying the sunshine. I also was sick (strep throat a.k.a. 'school cooties') this week so pardon my weeklong absence.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">At church tonight our wonderful Pastor preached on the gospel message of the one leper that returned to thank Jesus for healing. 10 lepers had been healed but only that ONE said thank you.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He told a story of how Satan had a rummage sale. At this rummage sale he had prices on things such as jealousy, anger and resentment. The thing that was the highest priced was off to the side and was priced the highest. That thing? Discouragement.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ummmm...it's nice that Pastor Tim's writes his sermons JUST FOR ME, but maybe others could use a message every once in awhile? Kidding. I'm kidding...mostly.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You see, if you had talked to me in the last week you would realize just how much Satan has been knocking on my door. Discouraged I was. Discouraged I still am but I'm working on it. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Satan has been talking in my ear about how no one wants me. No one wants to even interview me. The intelligent part of me knows that a job will come...eventually. The intelligent part of me knows that I have a good (GREAT!) resume and the job market just absolutely SUCKS. The intelligent part of me even knows that I am in fact intelligent. I am not stupid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Satan has told me that I am not intelligent, that I am not worth anything and that I am not loved. Satan overtook my brain for a few days with my discouragement. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You know what? Screw you Satan. I will NOT be discouraged anymore. Disappointed? Maybe occasionally. But I WILL count my blessings (and there are MANY) and I will not be discouraged. There is a song that Gigi learned in bible school based on Joshua 1:9 (I like the NIV translation of this </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">verse the best)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And if you are singing the song you add an extra "wherever you go-o" on the end of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And counting my blessings...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*My wonderful neighbors (and friends!). The Ba's, the Bo's and the Z's have not only been a blessing because of their fantabulous children, but because of the friendships I have made. I live in a neighborhood where it takes a village and am LUCKY to be here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*My church family who knows what I need to hear when I need to hear it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*My friends that are visiting this weekend. It may have been a rocky road when we were young - but I adore my Sasa now and can't wait to meet her new little girl! Her husband is also great and her parents? My second set while we were in college.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I am also thankful for the ability to be busy today. October 9th was my parents wedding anniversary. My Mama was busy with good friends today and I was busy too. Didn't lose it until the middle of church when Pastor Tim basically said, "Okay everyone else stop listening and I'm just going to talk to Tisti right now." (Okay FINE...he didn't actually say that but it sure felt like he should've!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">To be perfectly honest, this post is hard for me to hit publish on. Growing up I just always believed because that's what I was taught. Questioning came later, but I don't share my faith with people unless specifically asked. I'm Lutheran - we're polite and not pushy! We like potlucks with hotdishes (that'd be casseroles for anyone not from MN, SD, ND or IA). </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I don't like feeling as though I may be judged for professing my faith and "talking" about how much my pastor's message hit me to the core. I know I have readers that run the gamut from athiest and agnostic to the other end of the spectrum and hope I haven't offended anyone. And now? I'm doing that people pleasing thing that my therapist says I'm supposed to stop doing! LOL.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After this busy weekend I'm also very thankful for Native American Day on Monday (what? You celebrate Columbus Day? SoDak doesn't. It's Native American Day here *rolleyes*) and an extra day off on Tuesday for Gigi and I to just chill and play and chill some more. I've missed my girl while she is at school!</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-8039313484970410342010-10-01T23:58:00.000-05:002010-10-01T23:58:16.256-05:00Counting my blessings...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It's been a tough week all around for me. But...and it's a big one...I need to count my blessings. I have a lot of them and hopefully this will help me remember them. Maybe every Friday I'll start counting 10 blessings or something. Hmmm...need a catchy title for that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">1. God - without faith, I would not be here. Seriously. It's the only thing that gets me through some days</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">2. Gigi - I mean really. How could I live without that little girl? The one who when she's driving me sort of crazy I say, "Could you just chill for a minute?" and she answers, "I left all my chills at home" with a shrug. Thank you for making me laugh every single day Gigi. I love you. I am grateful that I am able to share my life with her and that she is mine. I can't think of a cooler kiddo around.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">3. My Mama - even when I do things that make her mad, or she makes me mad. I am grateful for her unconditional love - even when I don't deserve it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">4. My Daddy - I am grateful for 32 years with him. I have to remember the good times and not just dwell in the fact that I miss him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">5. K - ahhhh...my seester. I am grateful to her for doing things and making me laugh. Like call me to tell me that she clipped her kitty's toenails. That made me giggle and I needed it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">6. Lulu - my one and only niece - but a pretty cool one at that. I am thankful for her because she is just a great person. Not just a great teenager or great kid - but a great person.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">7. Mo - he has spent a lot of time with my Mama this week and so I've seen him more than usual. I am thankful to him for pointing things out that I would never have ever noticed in a million years. Everywhere we go he finds Mustangs, Corvettes and other assorted cars. I also know waaaay more about Transformers than I ever thought I would.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">8. Nono - my 4 year old nephew. His belly laugh makes me smile whenever I see him. I am grateful for him because of that belly laugh and because he reminds me so much of my dad. His looks, his attitude...his temper. There is a reason his nickname is "Little D"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">9. Owie - little Owie...the baby at 3. This kid has dimples that would melt the Grinch's heart. He can do anything and flash those dimples and it's magically okay - or at least funny enough that we forget to get mad at him. I am grateful that he makes me laugh.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">10. Steering off the sentimental path...I am grateful for my DVR. Seriously. I would marry it if I could. I am grateful for the technology that allows me to watch my favorite shows when *I* want to and grateful that we can record shows for Gigi so she has something to watch while she is winding down for bed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So...my first 10 things for gratitude Friday (again...need a different name!). Feel free to share what YOU are grateful for. </span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-89582065165147541402010-09-30T11:57:00.000-05:002010-09-30T11:57:29.575-05:00Someday...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Someday...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I'm going to be at my Mama's house and NOT expect my Daddy to walk through the door at any moment and let us all in on this big cosmic joke.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I will sit in his chair and not think I'm going to be kicked out by him</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I will actually become a working member of society again...somehow.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I will not let every "thanks for applying, but we don't even want to talk to you" letter or e-mail send me into a tizzy of tears</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*I will understand WHY. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It's been a tough week. Sunday I had another flood in the basement. This time for real. Ankle deep water. My wonderful Mama came over and helped me move everything and luckily the only things lost were the carpet in the storage room and some stuff that didn't matter anyway. Thank God for plastic storage tubs! (the source of the flood was my washing machine which somehow got stuck on a continual fill and empty cycle and a drain that was clogged - it is now fixed. I think.)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I am very frustrated right now. I am a college educated hard working person. And I cannot get a job. I see job listings or hear about something that is in my field, that I'm perfectly qualified for and am not even getting interviews for. I'm sick of the economy. I'm sick of being unemployed. I'm sick of the beating my self esteem takes on a daily basis. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'm sick of the long days when Gigi is at school. I have a 1,439,403 things to do at home but cannot get motivated to do them. I am sad. I am lonely. I am feeling beat up. I want to have somewhere to go and something to do. I want to be a productive member of society again and be able to stop worrying about how I'm going to pay for my mortgage. I want to be able to not have to tell my daughter, "I'm sorry honey but until Mama has a job we can't do that...or buy that...or go there." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Most of all I want my Daddy here to kick my butt and tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. </span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-73120167450402205642010-09-22T12:28:00.000-05:002010-09-22T12:28:07.122-05:00White Pickups...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I saw a Ford F150 white 4 door pickup yesterday. My first thought when I see a vehicle like that is my Daddy. He had one for what seems like years and years but really was only a couple years. But drove the heck out of it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I remember taking many trips to see K and the kids in that pickup. Or a trip to Chamberlain. It was so my Daddy. Big and rugged and a workhorse.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thinking about that brought me back to other memories. My biggest fear is that people are going to forget my Daddy. That they are going to forget the good things he did, or the people he loved. I want people to know that he MATTERED. To more than just me, My Mama, K and the kiddos. He MATTERED to the world.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As he lay dying in the hospital my Mama started recieving e-mails with memories in them. She shared a couple with me and the love that my dad's friends had for him is awesome. They knew he could be brusk and abrupt - but also still respected him. He could sell snow to the Eskimos and taught me how to talk to people. Anyone that knows me IRL knows that I can talk to anyone, anytime about anything...and I probably will. That's what my dad taught me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He taught me that everyone has a story. Everyone is interesting. Everyone deserves to know they MATTER. I knew I mattered to my Daddy and that is important to me. I also received a very thoughtful e-mail from one of my Mama's friends (thanks TPO!) that let me know just how much I matter to my Mama. I knew that I did - but it is nice to hear it from others.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As I travel this path that I haven't travelled before, I feel like I'm writing the story. I am in charge of how I deal and what I do. Monday? I didn't cry. I DIDN'T CRY. This is the first day since probably mid June that I didn't cry. That is a big deal and a big step towards the magic called "healing." <br />
<br />
Part of me doesn't want to "heal." Part of me wants to keep my memories and my feelings and my emotions as raw as possible. As the days pass, time takes me further and further away from Daddy. From my ALIVE Daddy. I don't want to forget him. I don't want to forget how fiercely loved he was and is. I don't want people to think that I'm magically just okay and not ask me about him.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I want to talk about him. I want to tell stories that make me laugh. I don't want to cry but sometimes the grief sneaks up and I will cry when I'm talking about him. I want to tell the world about how one Sunday afternoon my Daddy decided that Gigi needed to experience a "real county fair." We (my Mama, Daddy, Gigi and I) piled into the white pickup and drove for what seemed like hours but was probably just 30 minutes. We pulled into the town where the "real" county fair was and the fair was....gone. The "real county fair" was from Monday - Saturday. We tried to go on Sunday. My Mama and Daddy chalked it up to a nice Sunday drive and we all laughed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My Daddy loved to drive. He could drive and drive and drive. Nevermind that his 12 year old daughter in the backseat was beyond embarassed and worried as he tried to navigate through southwestern Minnesota by the sun. BY THE SUN. There were maps people! This was pre-GPS days but my Daddy decided to drive around and look at some flood waters and then take every single backroad he could and navigated home by the sun. I was mortified. There was no one with us so I don't know WHY it bothered me so much - but I'm a map person. He did get us home. We occasionally had to turn around because the road stopped or became a small township gravel road. And of course it took us twice as long - but we got home. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He always got us home. Probably not on them road most travelled...but he got us home. He loved backroads and hated interstates. "You don't see anything REAL on the interstate," he would say. Friends and I drove to Texas one spring break and he mapped out our course. Through tiny towns and 55 mph signs we made it - had fun and maybe took a little longer. But we got to see country that we wouldn't have if we would've stuck to the main roads.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So today? Anywhere I go I'm not going to take my normal route. In honor of my Daddy today I'm going to take the backroads (which will include just residential streets and not the main streets LOL). And I'll get where I'm going - with a little more scenery.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-64853988793409934972010-09-17T09:56:00.000-05:002010-09-17T09:56:21.120-05:00Attitude<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The saying goes, "Attitude is EVERYTHING." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And it is. Attitude *is* everything. When my Daddy was first diagnosed the doctor told us that. That his attitude would determine his fate basically.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You know what sucks? His attitude DIDN'T determine his fate. I have never seen anyone have a better attitude when facing someting as serious as brain cancer. My Daddy was a fighter, he fought HARD. He worked HARD to get back on his feet literally. He worked hard in speech therapy and physical therapy and occupational therapy to gain back as much as he could. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He knew that glioblastomas weren't 'beatable.' He knew that he probably had 5 years at the most. The radiologist told him the longest he'd had a patient live with a glioblastoma was 5 years. My Daddy was going to live for 6. He was fighter. He was stubborn and wasn't going to let something like a brain tumor get him down.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I wish in my Daddy's case that attitude WAS everything because he would still be on this earth with us right now. I have a hard time hearing stories of people who have beat their illness that they weren't supposed to beat. Don't get me wrong, I rejoice with them and I still pray for them - but I have a hard time hearing of others beating the unbeatable. I feel like if someone was going to beat the unbeatable - it should've been my Daddy. Afterall, he had the right attitude. He had the fight. He had the determination and yes, he had the stubborness.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A few weeks ago someone said, "It just went so fast. He must have been ready to go." It was not meant to be a put down for my Daddy. But the first place my head went was NO...he was not ready to "go." He was in the very end but my Daddy was a fighter. I told this person through my angry hot tears, "He fought REALLY HARD." And he did. I feel the need to defend his fight...his attitude.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You see, some people are given a diagnosis such as my dad's and they give up. Why fight the inevitable? Why fight a disease that is going to ravage your body...yourself. My Daddy did NOT have that attitude. He had a fight until the bitter end attitude. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It's weird...I hear stories of people suffering a fate similar to my dad's and I want to will them to beat it. I pray and pray and want to send all the energy I can to their family and friends to help them fight it. Because that's what my dad would want. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So if you tell me a story of someone who beat the odds, I may cry. I may sob in fact. I'm still getting over the fact that my Daddy did everything right in regards to attitude. I'm angry that in my Daddy's case attitude didn't make him live longer. It didn't make him beat the unbeatable. It's not fair.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yup, I said it. IT'S NOT FAIR. But life isn't fair. We lose people we love. Awesome people are dealt heavy blows. In my Daddy's case attitude WASN'T everything - but I'm still choosing to live my life with that old saying. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On another note, it's funny how I can be laughing and joking one moment and crying the next with a simple word. Not even a word such as 'glioblastoma' or 'brain cancer.' The word that set me off last night? Decadron. Don't know what it is? It's a steroid. A powerful one. It's the last drug that we took my dad off of besides the pain medication. We were hoping that keeping him on the Decadron would help with the swelling in his brain so we could get a few more sentences or alert moments out of him. Didn't work, but we tried. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So for the people at my meeting last night...I apologize that a simple word sent me into a tailspin. I was actually having the best time I've had for awhile and was laughing - usually that doesn't happen unless Gigi or one of my nephews is around. So thanks for laughing with me. And thanks for the hugs and for crying with me. :)</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-58369446539733953142010-09-13T09:45:00.000-05:002010-09-13T09:45:52.088-05:00Two Months<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">2 months. 8 1/2 weeks. 61 Days. 1464 hours. 87,840 minutes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">That is approximately how long this earth has been without my Daddy. That is how long I've been without my Daddy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I don't have anything to say really except for that I love and miss him. Terribly. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I keep telling myself that the dates have no power over me. The day is just that...a day. And sometime it will be just another day. When the 13th of the month rolls around someday it will just be the 13th of the month and not a monthiversary of the day my Daddy left this earth. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But today? The day does have power. I'm sad. But I'm remembering the good things.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-1833857490508149292010-09-12T21:35:00.000-05:002010-09-12T21:35:33.929-05:00A Positive<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I realized today (on this Grandparents Day - my Daddy was one of the good ones) that when I picture my Dad - when I think about him - my first picture of him in my mind is not those last few days in the hospital. It's not as sad to think about him anymore.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I still do have those pictures in my mind, but today? Today when I thought of him my first thought was of his eyes the night I said goodbye. The eyes that said, "I understand." The eyes that said, "I love you too." The eyes that said, "I'm proud to be your dad."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And that? Is a positive step towards healing.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-83640653408923737012010-09-11T09:55:00.001-05:002010-09-11T09:56:06.007-05:00Homesick<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Last night was a tough night for some reason. It was one of those gut-wrenching-literal-pain-in-my-heart nights. I cried and cried. Finally cried myself to sleep about 2:00 am. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">While on the computer last night I stumbled upon the following song (it's amazing what you find when you Google "Sad Christian songs.") It actually didn't upload to my iPod before bed last night or I probably would've cried even harder. I wanted to listen to it but it somehow didn't upload. </span><br />
<br />
<blockquote><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvhrPMJe8LE">HOMESICK</a></span></blockquote><br />
<blockquote><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And at least a thousand times I've rejoiced for you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But the reason why I'm broken, the reason why I cry</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Is how long must I wait to be with you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I close my eyes and I see your face</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've never been more homesick than now</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Help me Lord cause I don't understand your ways</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But, even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Cause I'm still here so far away from home</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I close my eyes and I see your face</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've never been more homesick than now</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">In Christ, there are no goodbyes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And in Christ, there is no end</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To see you again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To see you again</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And I close my eyes and I see your face</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Won't you give me strength to make it through somehow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've never been more homesick than now</span></blockquote><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<blockquote><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">-MercyMe</span></blockquote>You see, I had an entire post on how I was homesick before I even heard of this song. Yes, I live in my own house. Yes, I have my own family. But I no longer have 'my parents' home to go to. It's my Mama's house. Somethings missing there. SomeONE is missing there. <br />
<br />
I flounder about the day feeling like I have no where to belong. My home isn't comfortable because it makes me miss my Daddy. My Mama's house makes me miss my Daddy. Its a similar feeling to when my parents sold the house I grew up in. I didn't feel like I had a "home" to go to anymore. Little did I realize then how soon their new house would become "home" because that's where the family was. Home really is where my family is.<br />
<br />
But part of my family is missing. Part of my heart is gone. He is in Heaven waiting for us, but here on earth we miss him. A.LOT. Someday we will get to see him in our heavenly home and we won't be homesick anymore.<br />
<br />
For now, we grieve. We wait. We feel homesick. We cling to each other through this process. We have no control over our emotions.<br />
<br />
On this anniversary of 9/11 I look back to where I was that day and how lost I felt then. That was nothing like the feeling I have now, but it was the first time that I felt many of these feelings that I am experiencing now. I didn't know anyone that perished that day but had a connection somehow to them. They were just going about their regular lives, working their regular days and someone decided to take their lives from them. <br />
<br />
My Mama and I had visited the World Trade Center in April of 2001. We ate dinner at the 'Top of the World.' My boyfriend at the time (now my ex-husband) was working IN the towers for a month for training. We went to visit him and he proudly showed off the wonder that was the Twin Towers. We have goofy pictures of us at the top on the observation deck and in the gift shop. Just a short 5 months later those buildings would be...gone. An amazing wonder of arcitecture and American Spirit...reduced to a large pile of rubble.<br />
<br />
I have not been back to NYC since then. I hope to get there someday and visit the site that I have seen and heard and read so much about. I hope to visit the memorial and pray for the victims families like I do here but have some sort of connection to what happened that awful day. I can't believe it's been 9 years.<br />
<br />
Someday I hope I can look back and read this and see how much I was struggling at this point. I hope I can look back and see a different person - I hope I can see how broken I truly am but I hope by that point that I have learned to live with the brokenness and not be so sad everyday anymore.Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5061406685663680116.post-22671879938156807822010-09-08T20:00:00.001-05:002020-07-04T08:08:10.160-05:00Sneaky Grief<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Most days I go about my day - normal but with a bit of sadness. Some days I wake up sad and am just in the sad funk all day. Some days I wake up and think "this is the day that I will go without shedding a tear" and the grief sneaks up on me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">I am having ginormous motivation issues. GINORMOUS. Gigi is at school, I have no job, I have NOTHING to do but clean and organize my house. But yet? I don't. I don't know why. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">It may be tied to the fact that my house *is* my dad. My dad came with me to buy it. My told TOLD me to buy it and that he would help me fix it up. I had a 'Daddy Do' list instead of a 'honey do' list. My Mama told me when I got my house cleaned up and organized that she would help me and get a handyman to help finish the projects that are started. I don't WANT a handyman to finish the projects my dad started. I want my dad to do it. (picture me with my arms crossed like a defiant toddler).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">My mess is somehow comforting to me. Comfort in knowing that no one else is going to come in and do these projects. Like I'm waiting for my dad to come down from Heaven to do it or something. I am comforted by having a mess around me. Don't go all "Hoarders" on me because I don't hoard. I just am not organized at my house. My Mama is going to try though!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia";">Today I had all day to get stuff done. ALLLLLL day. What did I get done? Not much. I am pretty darn good at Bubble Pop on Facebook though. Truth is...even with two antidepressants and one anti anxiety med...I'm depressed. I want to sleep my life away. When Gigi is home I have to be a productive person - she needs to be fed, bathed, read to, etc. When she is at school or with her dad? I'm a lump. L.U.M.P. I find comfort in that too. I keep hoping that one day I will wake up and my motivation will just be there. That somehow in my sleep my Daddy's energizer bunnyish ways (totally words!) will be transferred to me and I will magically get things done. Not happening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">Besides getting nothing done today I had an okay day. I wasn't particularly sad or melancholy. I went to pick Gigi up at church and we had supper there. Sat with a woman from our congregation who knows me and Gigi and knew of my mom and dad but never realized they were my parents or that I was their daughter. She asked how the job search went this summer and I immediately got choked up and told her my dad had passed away. She asked why. I told her. Then I mentioned that she knew who my parents were and the moment of recognition hit her face and immediately I got the "I'm so so sorry" look.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">I did my best to hold back the tears but they sneak up so quickly. Grief is a sneaky little thing. She asked if we got quality time. Quality time? Well, yes. Enough time? Not in a million zillion years. I don't thing an infinite amount of time would have been enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">Many people see me in public, at church or dropping Gigi off at school. I'm told how strong I am...how well I've handled "things." Things being what...being a single mom, my dad getting terminally ill, dying a short two months later, losing my job, having no money and having no idea how to pay my freaking bills..."things." I'm glad that they think I'm doing well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia";">The truth? I'm not. I'm a mess. I feel like I could breakdown and cry at any given moment whether it is appropriate or not. I struggle day to day with motivation. I struggle to not come back after getting Gigi off to school and just lay in my bed languishing the day away. I struggle. There will be glimmers of hope - a day full of laundry washing perhaps - but that is followed by days and days of darkness. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm overwhelmed. I'm sad. I'm depressed. Someday? I won't be. I just have to keep looking for that silver lining and for the days that grief doesn't sneak up on me.</span>Tistihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196838023602933317noreply@blogger.com0