What in the world is that supposed to be?!
I've just gotten home from a week away in Chicago, which I think is for sure my favorite city. I had a wonderful time with my two girls and the man. Wonderful.
I looked forward to the trip for so many reasons - mostly, I wanted to have some special time with my people. Another thing I was sort of thinking was that, perhaps, it might be a good chance for me to have some "forced" removal from the intensity of my grief. Here, I keep accidentally having thoughts like, "Oh, when Sarah gets back in town, then we have to........" I see and feel her almost everywhere I go.
So the fact is that I still thought of her many many times each day, and as usual, every singly night. I was thinking that this fall would have been a great time for me to take her and her daughter to Chicago. We could have done all the girlie stuff with our daughters together - American Girl, "Wicked", Art Institute, Millineum Park, aquarium, Miracle Mile............. we would have all just loved being in a hotel together! Sh#%^t! Damn it!
I did go see "Wicked" with my family, and I lived through it. I am so glad to have shared it with them. It was very bittersweet for me - sweet memories of seeing it with Sarah and two more friends, and tears through the whole thing. I actually turned to my husband one time to say, "I have to tell Sarah, when I get home, that they did this differently..."
Apparently, I still can't "get it!" She is not coming back. I just can't get it.
So, I don't know what in the world "normal" is for me anymore. I guess it will turn into a new normal of some kind, but I wasn't looking for a new normal. I wanted my friend to be here. I wanted the comfort of her friendship. I wanted not to have to worry about my own death - my husband's - my children's, for Heaven's sake. Even though my kids have been the most incredible solid little rocks through this whole time (5 weeks and 5 days), I know they have such heart-ache for Sarah's kids, for me, and that they worry about the same thing happening to me. We are such a tight little family, and I know Sarah, her husband and her daughter and son were too.
I read her husband's blog tonight, and it was about so-called normalcy, too. He doesn't know what he's supposed to be doing either. http://becking.com (Jason's Untimely Thoughts)
I am trying, and will continue to try to go "forward to normal," because there's no going back. To borrow from Sarah's brother's comment (posted on the very first "Welcome" post), I don't want to be "dead weight" either.
I am going forward - to what, I don't know. Just forward.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
photos of man in tights, and more!
If you really want to see the bald man in tights..............
Go to http://silverboxphotographers.blogspot.com and scroll down to "Hairy Tales."
You'll also see some amazing documentary type photos created by my friend Amy! She's awesome!
Go to http://silverboxphotographers.blogspot.com and scroll down to "Hairy Tales."
You'll also see some amazing documentary type photos created by my friend Amy! She's awesome!
It's a mix...
What I mean, is that my days are a mix of "states of being."
I still have Sarah on my mind for lots of the hours. I still go to the cemetery every day with new flowers. Lately, though, I haven't had time to sit there very long. That will come again. I think one reason I'm doing it is because I'm afraid of going on about my life and being okay without her; not that there seems to be any danger of that happening any time soon. Life is going on, but the okay without her part, no.
I do have quite a bit of happiness in my life each day, including thoughts of Sarah. I can't even begin to explain all the new relationships, new stages of relationships, and actual new friends I have going on, as a direct result of Sarah's passing. That's weird. Great, but weird.
There is a book I purchased about 2 days after she died - "Annie G. Freeman's Fabulous Traveling Funeral" by Kris Radish. It's so odd - there must have been some kind of divine intervention going on when I bought it. I went to a store, where I rarely ever go, but which had an evening photo printing machine. I only had 6 photographs of Sarah, and none of them were with she and I together. They were some I took of her with her kids at my Dad's farm. I was in such a panic that somehow they would be lost, so I needed to print them. Anyway, I go into the store - red-eyed, and still crying, print the photos and head out. I also had just finished a book that day, which had helped me get a little calmed down or something at night so that I could get at least some sleep. Anyway, I wanted a new book to read, but what in the world would I get? I didn't want depressing at all, I didn't want fluff, I certainly didn't want boring. So this one called to me, and kept at it until I finally took it. It was almost as if it had legs and was jumping off the shelf.
The book is great. It's about how several women are drawn together as pallbearers for this mutual friend's ashes. Of course, they become friends, etc. but the imortant thing that it helped me realize so clearly was that friends come into and out of our lives at different times for different reasons - important reasons. It helped me remember that for sure, yes, I had been important to Sarah, and no doubt, she has to me. That in this case, like most, quality trumps quantity. Our 5 years together were too, too short, and they are not the same as anyone else's 5, 20 or 36. They were ours. That I can't lose.
I'm still in several of these "stages" (I hate that term for this...) I guess I'll just try to keep embracing whatever comes up. Hopefully, the angry parts will be channeled into something constructive, even positive. I'll try to remember her grace in tough situations.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
I still have Sarah on my mind for lots of the hours. I still go to the cemetery every day with new flowers. Lately, though, I haven't had time to sit there very long. That will come again. I think one reason I'm doing it is because I'm afraid of going on about my life and being okay without her; not that there seems to be any danger of that happening any time soon. Life is going on, but the okay without her part, no.
I do have quite a bit of happiness in my life each day, including thoughts of Sarah. I can't even begin to explain all the new relationships, new stages of relationships, and actual new friends I have going on, as a direct result of Sarah's passing. That's weird. Great, but weird.
There is a book I purchased about 2 days after she died - "Annie G. Freeman's Fabulous Traveling Funeral" by Kris Radish. It's so odd - there must have been some kind of divine intervention going on when I bought it. I went to a store, where I rarely ever go, but which had an evening photo printing machine. I only had 6 photographs of Sarah, and none of them were with she and I together. They were some I took of her with her kids at my Dad's farm. I was in such a panic that somehow they would be lost, so I needed to print them. Anyway, I go into the store - red-eyed, and still crying, print the photos and head out. I also had just finished a book that day, which had helped me get a little calmed down or something at night so that I could get at least some sleep. Anyway, I wanted a new book to read, but what in the world would I get? I didn't want depressing at all, I didn't want fluff, I certainly didn't want boring. So this one called to me, and kept at it until I finally took it. It was almost as if it had legs and was jumping off the shelf.
The book is great. It's about how several women are drawn together as pallbearers for this mutual friend's ashes. Of course, they become friends, etc. but the imortant thing that it helped me realize so clearly was that friends come into and out of our lives at different times for different reasons - important reasons. It helped me remember that for sure, yes, I had been important to Sarah, and no doubt, she has to me. That in this case, like most, quality trumps quantity. Our 5 years together were too, too short, and they are not the same as anyone else's 5, 20 or 36. They were ours. That I can't lose.
I'm still in several of these "stages" (I hate that term for this...) I guess I'll just try to keep embracing whatever comes up. Hopefully, the angry parts will be channeled into something constructive, even positive. I'll try to remember her grace in tough situations.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Do they mix white paint?
Anyone who knows me, really at all, knows that I have never, and I mean never gone to a paint store to buy white paint. But as we are so regularly reminded, everything changes.
My baby, who is seven and a half years old, and who shall from now on be referred to as Cake, suddenly became inspired to totally over-haul her room. This is a genetic trait-my inspirations are mostly sudden fits. I had been asking her for the past year or so, if she would like to do this. Always, it has been, "No, I still like my hot pink, light pink, lavender, violet and magenta room." But a couple of nights ago, while she and I were shopping, I was needing to find a restroom, pretty quickly, and so we charged into the Linens-N-Things. She saw the display bed right inside the door, and proclaimed, "Mommy, I absolutely LOVE this!" The end result involved the two of us walking out, in several trips, with several loads of awesome new, very grown-up stuff.
"Back-to-the-dorms" time shopping is great, even for 7 -year-olds.
Well, the bedding is a dark brown background with many colored (and white) circles on top. Cake immediately looked at it and said, "Let's paint the walls white."
So, again, if you know me, you realize this is odd, coming from my genetic material. However, I said, "Great. White it is." I literally didn't know how to buy white paint. I didn't know if it had to be "mixed" or something, or if you just got it off the shelf. (I've been painting for twenty years - a lot - beginning with my summer job on my college's paint crew. (Which, by the way, has to be one of my all time great jobs, because of the friends involved and the hilarity of every day. One day, my dear, dear friend who shall remain nameless but knows who she is, actually pee-ed a river -not in a toilet-from laughing so hard. Now that's a story for another time!) My house has recently boasted chartreuse walls, magenta ceiling, dark lavender and red, gold line-y stuff, black woodwork, a jungle bathroom...you get the idea. I am actually a real painter too.
Well, I was so excited at the thought of this room being cleaned out, I didn't care about the new color at all, just that it pleased Cake. Our design has evolved now to include some "Swiss Chocolate" on the walls, as well, and some "Mommy painting" circles and other geometric craziness. And what could be cooler than 84 inch long fringe curtains?!
We are over-run now in the rest of our smallish house with bags and bags of items for the now necessary garage sale. But the cleaning out, rite of passage into second grade, whatever we call this journey is sweet. There are little buckets of acorns and buckeyes, countless tiny restaurant jelly jars filled with jewels, rocks, "tickets", stray Polly shoes, writings, drawings, bead collections, jewelry of all kinds, still plenty of stuffed animals...
It's just a nice way to look at one's life. Sometimes, it's a little too dusty, but it's good to be reminded of what's important to us, and who we are continually becoming.
I love my babies.
My baby, who is seven and a half years old, and who shall from now on be referred to as Cake, suddenly became inspired to totally over-haul her room. This is a genetic trait-my inspirations are mostly sudden fits. I had been asking her for the past year or so, if she would like to do this. Always, it has been, "No, I still like my hot pink, light pink, lavender, violet and magenta room." But a couple of nights ago, while she and I were shopping, I was needing to find a restroom, pretty quickly, and so we charged into the Linens-N-Things. She saw the display bed right inside the door, and proclaimed, "Mommy, I absolutely LOVE this!" The end result involved the two of us walking out, in several trips, with several loads of awesome new, very grown-up stuff.
"Back-to-the-dorms" time shopping is great, even for 7 -year-olds.
Well, the bedding is a dark brown background with many colored (and white) circles on top. Cake immediately looked at it and said, "Let's paint the walls white."
So, again, if you know me, you realize this is odd, coming from my genetic material. However, I said, "Great. White it is." I literally didn't know how to buy white paint. I didn't know if it had to be "mixed" or something, or if you just got it off the shelf. (I've been painting for twenty years - a lot - beginning with my summer job on my college's paint crew. (Which, by the way, has to be one of my all time great jobs, because of the friends involved and the hilarity of every day. One day, my dear, dear friend who shall remain nameless but knows who she is, actually pee-ed a river -not in a toilet-from laughing so hard. Now that's a story for another time!) My house has recently boasted chartreuse walls, magenta ceiling, dark lavender and red, gold line-y stuff, black woodwork, a jungle bathroom...you get the idea. I am actually a real painter too.
Well, I was so excited at the thought of this room being cleaned out, I didn't care about the new color at all, just that it pleased Cake. Our design has evolved now to include some "Swiss Chocolate" on the walls, as well, and some "Mommy painting" circles and other geometric craziness. And what could be cooler than 84 inch long fringe curtains?!
We are over-run now in the rest of our smallish house with bags and bags of items for the now necessary garage sale. But the cleaning out, rite of passage into second grade, whatever we call this journey is sweet. There are little buckets of acorns and buckeyes, countless tiny restaurant jelly jars filled with jewels, rocks, "tickets", stray Polly shoes, writings, drawings, bead collections, jewelry of all kinds, still plenty of stuffed animals...
It's just a nice way to look at one's life. Sometimes, it's a little too dusty, but it's good to be reminded of what's important to us, and who we are continually becoming.
I love my babies.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Good things happen
So, the bad thing is that my wonderful friend Sarah, is gone from this earth, and from my life, and from so, so many other lives.
However, I am connecting with another friend of hers - a close friend from college days. Here's how it happened:
For the past maybe year, or so, I've been carrying around a rock in my purse, next to an important buckeye that I found with my Dad. The rock is a polished rose quartz that Sarah gave me. She gave it to me when I was having a little bit of a rough time (absolutely nothing compared to having cancer), with the nicest note. "My friend gave me this when I was diagnosed, and it has been a help to me already, so I hope it will bring you some peace and comfort." So, understand, she gave me her "healing the cancer rock."
I'm a rock lover, and I have held it countless times. Anyway, the day Sarah died, I was holding it nonstop, and I developed this terrible panic, that I might lose it. So, in a couple of days, I took it to a jeweler we know, and asked if he could make it into a necklace, quickly, which he did, and it's lovely.
I was hoping to figure out during the weekend of her services/parties, which friend gave it to her. I thought I remembered the name, and so I just asked this other friend. (Note that there were many, many, many friends present.) Yes, it had been her. She was totally gracious, when I said that I hoped she didn't mind if I was wearing it around my neck, now. She said, "No, I'm glad you have it; that's what it's for."
At the very end of the party honoring Sarah, as I was leaving, this friend came very directly toward me, saying, "You and I need to have a conversation. I feel like Sarah's telling me in my head that I should talk with you." So, of course, we did.
She lives many states away, but we've emailed, and now she's back for a visit, and to help take care of Sarah's kids for a while. I was so touched that she wanted to connect with me. I was feeling a little uneasy (during the first week of losing her) because I've only known Sarah for about 5 years, while many of her friends are from 20 years ago. I just wasn't a part of that group.
Anyway, I had another rose quartz made into a necklace for my new friend, which I know has to please Sarah, and I think my new friend was pleased, as well. She's a very cool person, and I sincerely hope to develop a long friendship with her.
I've realized for sure that it is definitely the quality, not the quantity, that's important. Friends come into our lives at different times and for different reasons. I only just wish that I could keep all of mine close to me all the time, and that none of them would ever have to leave.
In all the ways I can think of, I'm keeping you close, Sarah. You're a big part of who I am, and you're always in my heart.
However, I am connecting with another friend of hers - a close friend from college days. Here's how it happened:
For the past maybe year, or so, I've been carrying around a rock in my purse, next to an important buckeye that I found with my Dad. The rock is a polished rose quartz that Sarah gave me. She gave it to me when I was having a little bit of a rough time (absolutely nothing compared to having cancer), with the nicest note. "My friend gave me this when I was diagnosed, and it has been a help to me already, so I hope it will bring you some peace and comfort." So, understand, she gave me her "healing the cancer rock."
I'm a rock lover, and I have held it countless times. Anyway, the day Sarah died, I was holding it nonstop, and I developed this terrible panic, that I might lose it. So, in a couple of days, I took it to a jeweler we know, and asked if he could make it into a necklace, quickly, which he did, and it's lovely.
I was hoping to figure out during the weekend of her services/parties, which friend gave it to her. I thought I remembered the name, and so I just asked this other friend. (Note that there were many, many, many friends present.) Yes, it had been her. She was totally gracious, when I said that I hoped she didn't mind if I was wearing it around my neck, now. She said, "No, I'm glad you have it; that's what it's for."
At the very end of the party honoring Sarah, as I was leaving, this friend came very directly toward me, saying, "You and I need to have a conversation. I feel like Sarah's telling me in my head that I should talk with you." So, of course, we did.
She lives many states away, but we've emailed, and now she's back for a visit, and to help take care of Sarah's kids for a while. I was so touched that she wanted to connect with me. I was feeling a little uneasy (during the first week of losing her) because I've only known Sarah for about 5 years, while many of her friends are from 20 years ago. I just wasn't a part of that group.
Anyway, I had another rose quartz made into a necklace for my new friend, which I know has to please Sarah, and I think my new friend was pleased, as well. She's a very cool person, and I sincerely hope to develop a long friendship with her.
I've realized for sure that it is definitely the quality, not the quantity, that's important. Friends come into our lives at different times and for different reasons. I only just wish that I could keep all of mine close to me all the time, and that none of them would ever have to leave.
In all the ways I can think of, I'm keeping you close, Sarah. You're a big part of who I am, and you're always in my heart.
A revelation!
You say you want a revelation, we-ell, you know.........we all want to save the world, shoobi-do-wap....
Okay, so I have actually had a great revelation, which, I suppose, could also turn into a revolution.
I finally emailed some friends and family whose names begin with "a," asking them each if they were the person who commented on one of these posts in July as "A." It was such a nice comment, I was really wondering who made it. It was signed "Love you." Anyway, I emailed about 6 or 8 people.
Here's the revelation:
I had 6 or 8 people to email whose names begin with "a" that I thought could have been the writer. These are just the "a"s in my life! If you quickly average this out to 26 letters in the alphabet, then I have, off the top of my head, roughly 156-208 people who could have sent this. The reality is, that the number is probably more like double or triple that.
I am loved. I am not bragging, I'm just grateful.
I am so grateful.
Okay, so I have actually had a great revelation, which, I suppose, could also turn into a revolution.
I finally emailed some friends and family whose names begin with "a," asking them each if they were the person who commented on one of these posts in July as "A." It was such a nice comment, I was really wondering who made it. It was signed "Love you." Anyway, I emailed about 6 or 8 people.
Here's the revelation:
I had 6 or 8 people to email whose names begin with "a" that I thought could have been the writer. These are just the "a"s in my life! If you quickly average this out to 26 letters in the alphabet, then I have, off the top of my head, roughly 156-208 people who could have sent this. The reality is, that the number is probably more like double or triple that.
I am loved. I am not bragging, I'm just grateful.
I am so grateful.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Hard Day
Went to Office Depot to have them layout and print part of an invitation.
Always before, Sarah and I did this stuff together. We were art/craft/picture/"do-all-the-special-stuff" maniacs together. The really crappy part of it is, that the invitation is to an event where I will be "honoring and celebrating the life of" my friend. I don't want to make the stupid invitation by myself. I'm part of a team.
Went to the cemetary today. Set down the fresh flowers, and tried to decide if it helped more or hurt more to be right behind her house, when always before, she, of course, would be there. (Her back yard borders the cemetary, and her house is totally in view of her grave site.)
Went to Sarah's house to be with another of her best friends- one I'm just now getting to know - and the kiddos.
Always before, Sarah and I dragged our kids around together, and I sat in her kitchen, on her couches, stood in her office, checked out the latest home project...with her. (However, it is very good to have the honor of becoming friends with someone else who was so close to her.)
Went out to eat with my kids, and all I could think about was "Who would I want hanging out with them, if I were not here?" I made a list that is good, but always before, Sarah would have been on it - to say the least.
Finally, we're home tonight, and I'm still sad, knowing that I can make myself function, I can make myself be fun and happy for her kids and for mine, I can sort of try to comfort others of us who are also so sad, but that I'm just still sad.
So much for the intended "uplifting" part of the blog.
As soon as I get some copies, I will be posting pictures of my husband in red tights and long wig. That ought to cheer us up.
Always before, Sarah and I did this stuff together. We were art/craft/picture/"do-all-the-special-stuff" maniacs together. The really crappy part of it is, that the invitation is to an event where I will be "honoring and celebrating the life of" my friend. I don't want to make the stupid invitation by myself. I'm part of a team.
Went to the cemetary today. Set down the fresh flowers, and tried to decide if it helped more or hurt more to be right behind her house, when always before, she, of course, would be there. (Her back yard borders the cemetary, and her house is totally in view of her grave site.)
Went to Sarah's house to be with another of her best friends- one I'm just now getting to know - and the kiddos.
Always before, Sarah and I dragged our kids around together, and I sat in her kitchen, on her couches, stood in her office, checked out the latest home project...with her. (However, it is very good to have the honor of becoming friends with someone else who was so close to her.)
Went out to eat with my kids, and all I could think about was "Who would I want hanging out with them, if I were not here?" I made a list that is good, but always before, Sarah would have been on it - to say the least.
Finally, we're home tonight, and I'm still sad, knowing that I can make myself function, I can make myself be fun and happy for her kids and for mine, I can sort of try to comfort others of us who are also so sad, but that I'm just still sad.
So much for the intended "uplifting" part of the blog.
As soon as I get some copies, I will be posting pictures of my husband in red tights and long wig. That ought to cheer us up.
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