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.
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.
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.
A bit of the lyrics:
I don't want to be broken anymore
Living life in a million pieces
I can see my world is changing
Waking me from my sleeping
I hear You calling, it's speaking my name
I will never be the same
I DON'T 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 30 minutes. 30 MINUTES! 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.
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.
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?
2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
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.
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.
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.
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 :)
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 verse the best)
"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."
And if you are singing the song you add an extra "wherever you go-o" on the end of it.
And counting my blessings...
*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.
*My church family who knows what I need to hear when I need to hear it.
*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.
*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!)
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).
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.
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!
Someday...
*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.
*I will sit in his chair and not think I'm going to be kicked out by him
*I will actually become a working member of society again...somehow.
*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
*I will understand WHY.
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.)
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.
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."
Most of all I want my Daddy here to kick my butt and tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself.
The saying goes, "Attitude is EVERYTHING."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. :)
