MOURNING YEARS GONE BY

As I sat in church yesterday, a young family got up to perform a special musical number. The father was on the piano and the mother stood with the children. As I was watching them I was so touched by the sweetness and completeness of this little family. I looked at the three oldest. 9, 7, 5. I was suddenly overcome with feelings of grief. Grieving the years that have passed. Those innocent and precious children were the age my children were when their father passed. So young, so sweet. So wonderful to see this family - we were once a sweet little family as well. The tears started and wouldn't stop. I started getting strange glances from my children. The tears just kept coming and coming. Long after the musical number was over, I was still crying. I felt like I was holding back... allowing the tears but blocking the sobbing that so wanted to come out. I contemplated making a run for the bathroom but felt like I was already making a spectacle of myself and thought that may just exaggerate that. So, I sat and let the tears continue to fall.

I can't say for sure what brought it on - but I can say that the topic of "mourning the years gone by" has been heavy on my heart lately. In moments of frustration the kids have retaliated at me with 'facts from the past' concerning my bad parenting behavior. It has left me reflecting on years I don't care to think about again. Years that I can't re-do. Years that have been wasted. Or so it seems.

The question is really... what would / could I have done differently. My 'bad parenting' is a reflection of trying to be a parent to children who were reacting with anger to their father's death, while trying to grieve the loss of my husband. My patience was short. I was trying to process through my own grief and that left little brain capacity for disobedient children. I was quick to yell, to lose my patience. I was incapable of of doing it.... well. I became this crazy mother that was nothing like I had once been. I look back and wonder what could have changed things. How could I have maintained the happiness and love in that little family and just continued on? Perhaps there is another widow out there that has considered this more or been more successful that could share some tips. For me... I need to forgive myself. I need to let go of the thoughts that they have been years wasted and I need to make the most of the years I now have.

I AM NOT ALWAYS VERY COMPASSIONATE

I have learned a lot of compassion over the past several years. Being a widow has allowed me to understand single moms, widows of all ages, and people who are single better than I ever have. But, there have been my moments that I have been truly lacking in compassion.

One day within the first couple months after Chris' death I showed up to work ready to go as the day was full of appointments and much to accomplish. I had to get out of the gates running so to speak. There was another girl that I would be spending the day with who would be assisting me in our work for the day.

She was already at work when I walked in, but, she wasn't even close to working yet. She was sitting at her desk crying. I was compassionate at first... inquiring if everything was OK. She proceeded to tell me that she was using confidential company information (that she never should have been looking at) to determine that a friend of hers was dating an ex-boyfriend of hers.

I will stop the story here to say this is one of those things I just don't get. Can someone explain why, if YOU break up with a guy... why do you CARE if that guy dates one of your friends?? I don't get it. Anyone is welcome to date any of the guys I have. There is a reason why I am not dating them.. So, go for it. I can see it being more difficult if HE broke up with you... But when YOU break it off.. LET GO!

Anyhow... I let her cry for a bit while I prepped all the material for our meetings. We were running out of time, and would need to leave the office soon. She was still sitting in the corner crying (and had added texting her girlfriend to her list of activities for the morning). I was growing irritated. We still had to load the vehicle with things we would need for the day. I kindly told her she needed to help me out. She began sobbing.

I looked at her with irritation and said, "Listen, my HUSBAND just died and I am managing to pull it together enough to work. I am certain you can do the same with your situation."

It worked. She pulled herself together.

I AM THE FATHER

Father's Day was this past Sunday. Thanks to my on-the-ball brother I got my Dad something. Although, I am really not sure what it was. I just have to send a check. Thanks to my on-the-ball father I even wished him a happy Father's Day. He called to see if I wanted to wish him one. I did.

Here... the mood was crabby. Not intentionally. When the kids got up Sunday morning I asked if they wanted to wish me a happy Father's Day. They replied with a "what for". I reminded them that theses days I play both mother and father... so they needed to remember me on Father's Day and Mother's Day. They rolled their eyes.

I decided to make the kids pancakes for breakfast. I got the batter mixed up and the pan heated up. I started cooking them only to realize we need to leave the house in five minutes or we would be late for church. Where did the time go? I tried to keep cooking the pancakes... but I was making a terrible mess and in reality no one would even have time to eat them. So, I took the pan off the burner and left the burned pancakes on the plate and went to throw on a dress.

There were a couple ladies at church who know that I expect my children to acknowledge me on Father's Day. They were gracious enough to wish me a happy day.

My daughter was in a terrible mood all day. And if for a moment she stopped, my youngest son started. I thought I would loose my mind with all the crabby behavior and bickering. After I sent them to bed, I told them I was going to run out to visit a friend who recently moved into a new home. I had not yet seen the house, despite multiple promises to stop. After I got there, it wasn't long and my son started calling me to tell me to come home. Then when I stopped answering my phone... I started receiving a text message every five seconds from him. There seemed to be no end to the ornery behavior.

Why? Maybe they just hadn't had enough sleep. We had a busy Saturday. But, I wonder on days like that if it is something more. I know over the past few years I have even noticed that in myself. It is subconscious. I don't intend to be crabby - but there is something in the air on certain days. Something that nags at your conscience telling you that things are just not right that day. I wonder if that was the children on Sunday. Just feeling a bit of that void in their lives.

This is something that for me has gotten easier. I am able to be more even-tempered despite the date on the calendar. I am less and less affected. But, sometimes I still sense it is there. Without even consciously thinking about it, it is there...

Lesson Manual: How to Be a Widow
8. Cut yourself and your kids some slack... and be prepared. No matter how much you 'think' you will be fine. There are certain days on the calendar that you can't be fine no matter how hard you try.

PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE

The year Chris was sick, he attended Parent Teach Conferences in the fall with me. We were naturally worried about the kids... their father was very ill, and not getting better. The kids seemed to be doing OK at home - but we were concerned about what kinds of behavior may be manifesting itself at school.

We had appointments with each of the children's teachers. Two of the three children's teachers were conscious of our situation and sensitive to our concerns. They answered our concerns with direct, open and honest answers. We were happy to find that the children seem to be doing alright.

As we arrived at the classroom to meet with the last child's teacher we were hoping to find similar news. When we inquired with the teacher as to how his behavior was, she expressed that she found his behavior bothersome. I took a deep breath, preparing myself to learn perhaps, something of how my child was feeling. We asked her to explain. She stated my child made noises. What kind of noises? Like, sound effects. To everything the child does, there are sound effects. Loud, where it bothers others. No, none of the other children seem to notice. Does he interrupt the class? No, it is usually during free time, but it is annoying.

This poor child is dealing with his father dieing. And you are concerned that he is still able to use his imagination, as many his age do, to escape to a world of their own... and it's annoying YOU? He is not interrupting any other children or class time... just annoying YOU?

Well then, we are done here. Sounds like he is doing perfectly fine, and no, we will not say one word to him about it.

WHO I NEED TO BE CONCERNED WITH

It has been five years since my husband passed. I suppose that is a fact we have covered. What is next in life? I was 29 when he passed, had three children who were all school-age, and had lived a very fulfilling life. Those eleven years were full of life and living and 'getting somewhere'. Now. Now I feel as though I do less thriving than I do surviving. I go to work at a job that does not carry with it a possibility for much a future or the ability to really use and develop my talents on a regular basis. Don't get me wrong. I have a good job... it is just not a source of personal fulfillment. I come home and am faced with the challenges of raising teens and pre-teens. Is there something more? In ten years, what will I say I have accomplished? I get frustrated with myself sometimes, as I think I should not question this or worry as the only success I need in these ten years are good, solid, strong children.

I don't get 'down' too often in regards to this - but sometimes there are incidents that happen that bring me down. As is the case now.

Someone whom I respect made an attack on my integrity and my character. He was wrong. Whether a fabrication or misinterpretation, I don't know. But it left me wondering what else I have to cling to. When I come home at the end of the day and my bucket feels as though it has been emptied... and there is no one to fill it... it leaves me questioning myself. Every action, statement, personality trait to see if I could figure out why this attack had been made.

I spent the evening trying to distract myself with mindless tasks that needed to be completed. I worked until very late, then I climbed into Chris' pajamas and went to bed. Overall feeling very low. I crawled into bed exhausted both physically and mentally. I turned the radio on in hopes of gleaning some distraction from my thoughts. Immediately the song Live Like You Were Dying was playing. This song takes me back to when Chris was sick, as it was released just months after his diagnosis and the words were very relevant to our lives. Instantly I could feel him there with me and the tears flowed. I think I apologized for being such a dork. For allowing something like this to bother me and affect me to the level that I needed to bother him. That he needed to come and comfort me. Certainly there are REAL issues in life - and someone attacking my integrity and character does not equate me being a person of poor integrity and character. But, sometimes that is hard to feel in the moment. So, I layed there and absorbed his presence and his strength.

The next morning I was faced with a daunting 'to-do' list but was still feeling burdened with the events of the previous day. I talked to a friend who pointed out that Satan will attack those things, such as our integrity, that are important to us. She was right, and if I want to keep evil influences out of my house - I needed to let this go. I got on my knees and prayed. I asked for the evil to leave my home. Then I sat down to read my scriptures, hoping the Lord would be bound to bring me peace from those words. I opened up my Book of Mormon to the book of Alma, 4th chapter and I read. I finished the chapter, feeling better, but needing more. I kept reading. I made it half way through Chapter five before I found the message that was there... just for me... This is what I read:

And now behold, I ask of you.....
Have ye spiritually been born of God?
Have ye received his image in your countenances?
Have ye experienced this mighty change in your hearts?
Do ye exercise faith in the redemption of him who created you?
Do you look forward with an eye of faith, and view this mortal body raised in immortality, and this corruption raised in in-corruption, to stand before God to be judged according to the deeds which have been done in the mortal body?

I say unto you, can you imagine to yourselves that ye hear the voice of the Lord, saying unto you, in that day: Come unto me ye blessed, for behold, your works have been works of righteousness upon the face of the earth...

The tears flowed again, but this time there was gratitude in those tears. For a loving Heavenly Father who reached out... who reminded me WHO I need to be concerned with. Which is Him, my Savior Jesus Christ. If my works are pleasing to Him, despite what others may say, I can press onward with steadfast faith and leave the evil one behind.

HOUSTON, WE HAVE CONTACT

As we sat at the dinner table last night my 10 year old inquired as to if his teacher had called. "No, should I expect her to be calling?" **shrugs** "If she were to call, what might she want?" "I lost my backpack" Now this is a fact that is well-known. I have looked everywhere for his backpack to no avail. "She is going to call me because you lost your backpack?" "It has a library book in it" "She is calling me about a late library book?" **shrugs** Moments later the phone rang... Yes, it was his teacher. Of course the story was a little different from her end. He was missing some homework assignments. :)

Does that ever happen to you? Just after you mention something, it happens. Well, this was the first of two for last night. After dinner I went to the gym. As I walked in, there was one of my husband's friends. Remember? One of the ones I said finds me invisible. As I walked in I didn't notice him at first, but then he caught my eye as he looked RIGHT AT ME! Maybe it was the fact that I was wearing my husband's jacket, shoes and ring. Maybe that is what caught his eye. Either way, I decided I was going to make contact tonight. No more running. No more pretending you don't see me. I situated myself on the treadmill closest to his that was open. Spent some time there, then went on the elliptical right in front of him. He continued running, and I went to the weights. I finished a set and all of the sudden realized he was not on the treadmill any longer. No! I didn't just lose my chance, did I? I looked around and did not see him. crud. I moved down to the next weight machine. As I was in the middle of my set - he walked by me. Yes. I am going to get him. All of the sudden I realized I didn't know his name. I mean, I know what his "nickname" was that my husband always called him, but I COULD NOT think of his name! I thought and thought. nothing. oh well. I finished my sets, stood up, took my headset out of my ears, walked over to the machine he was on, looked at him and said, "Hi G" (I called him by the nickname my husband used... I am just protecting the identity of the innocent). He replied "oh, hi. Kim, right?" "Yes" "I thought when I just walked by you, I uh, I thought you looked familiar". We continued and had a nice conversation.

THE TALENTED CHILDREN

For any new 'widows' out there please note #2 in...

Lesson Manual: How to Be a Widow
2. Learn to forgive because there will be many, even your closest friends, who will behave badly. People will say things that hurt your feelings. They will judge you. As a widow, you don't need the baggage. It gets far too heavy to carry. You have to let go or it could drown you.

My oldest just struggled. He was in the fourth grade when his father passed. In the fifth grade we moved to a new school as a result of my selling our home. For the other two children, there were many things about this school that were better for them. But, the oldest brought out all the bad in this school district.

By the end of fifth grade, he had many "F's" as a result of his 'checking out'. I felt that he needed to be fed. He needed a boost to his spirits. His F's were not a result of mental know how - they were emotionally based. We could not expect his grades to rise simply by imposing additional consequences on him. We needed to lift him out of the hole he was sitting in.

That spring the college was putting on a production of The Wizard of Oz. I had inquired if they might need some young talent, but was informed it was already being taken care of. I discovered many of the children in my son's school were participating in the play. About a month before the production I was contacted by the director. They needed another child - so Christopher was invited to audition. He was awarded the role of a 'flying combat monkey' and a 'munchkin'. The director asked that he join the practices with the other 'munchkins' on Friday mornings before school. The practice was held at the school and ended 10 minutes after school began.

I informed Christopher's teacher and principal that he would be participating, therefore he would be a few minutes late on Friday morning. They let me know his grades were not such that they felt this was wise. I let them know 10 minutes on a Friday morning would not make the difference between "F's" and "A's". In response, I was curtly told that ONLY THE TALENTED CHILDREN were allowed to participate in this production, and HE WAS NOT AMONG THE TALENTED CHILDREN. yeah. those are fighting words.

This is one battle I won! :) And, If I do say so myself, I have never seen such an adorable flying monkey beating the lion up!!

LUNCH WH***

About a year after my husband's death I had several friends wanting to fix me up and some guys just pursuing me. I was attempting to dodge it all. To be perfectly honest I didn't date much before I had married - so I wasn't too anxious to jump into it after his death.

I finally cracked under the pressure. I think I was comforted by the fact that I was leaving my job - so I could provide my work number and it wouldn't matter as I would not have that number much longer.

For everyone that wanted to fix me up, I informed them: lunch only. This was a safe way of going about this as: 1. I would not have to arrange for daycare in the evening. 2. I could always have a meeting I just HAD to hurry to. 3. I was flexible enough that, should it go well, I could take a long lunch.

I refer to this period in my life as my lunch wh*** (I am keeping this clean for the children) days. I think I had half a dozen dates in about two weeks. Sadly, I can not tell you the names of most of the individuals I went out with in those two weeks. I was luckily able to forget a lot of what happened. But, I did learn some valuable things:

1. On a first date you should not spend the entire conversation talking about what a wonderful husband you were - but that your ungrateful ex-wife never appreciated you. I don't care.

2. On a first date you should not divulge to the other party your desire to have children with them. Freaky

3. On a first date you should not tell the other party how you make sure your young children are fully aware of what a horrible person their mother is. Yikes

4. On a first date should you find that you are having to replay the entire details of the first time you met the other person and the other party has zero recollection - just give it up and move on... Don't keep trying to make them remember. Sorry buddy - you just weren't that memorable!

5. On a first date you should not tell the other party how God told you they were the one you would marry. This type of information should be saved for your wedding night... if you ever make it that far!

So, the good news is I learned a lot as my run being a lunch wh***!

All of these men when they inquired for my phone number were given my work cell number that I would only have for a couple more weeks. I think that is one of the easiest ways to get rid of men! Change your number, and your job, and your address! Yes, I did all three!

NOW, WHAT WOULD WE DO IF THERE WAS A BREAK THROUGH?

I have certainly seen the worst of people through the years. I have many such stories... and a few stories of seeing the best. But, here is one of the worst...

My oldest really struggled. I didn't know what to do for him. He wouldn't talk to anyone and in every way "checked - out" while he was at school. They were sending him to meet with the school counselor, but I also knew he was taking frequent trips to the bathroom during the day. I understood. He needed to get out... to get away... he needed to cry. So, he would. He would go to the bathroom to cry.

We had a wonderful counselor that was working for Hospice at the time. She was good at what she did and she understood kids and grief far better than I did. I spoke with the counselor at the school and inquired regarding his knowledge / experience in dealing with grief. He admittedly had none. I talked to the Hospice counselor about whether or not she could work with the counselor at the school. My son would not talk to her in the evenings, she would come to the house and he wanted to be left alone... but I thought maybe he would at school. And, at the very least, the Hospice counselor could teach the school counselor a few things that may help.

The counselor was open to this, so, with a plan in hand... I went to the Principle to seek permission to arrange this. His reaction: "No, I don't think that would be a good idea. I mean, what would be do if there was a break through and he was crying?" My reaction: "You are right. It is so much better for him to go to the bathroom and cry where the adults don't have to be made uncomfortable by his tears of grief. "

I didn't win that battle.