MAKING A SPECTACLE OF MYSELF

I mentioned a couple days ago that watching me.... is painful. At least when I am functioning in life on my "own". When the Lord is not using me, and therefore not making me better so I am usable... it is truly a painful experience. I have come to find that if there is a way to draw attention to myself in a negative way, I seek after these things. Not intentionally, mind you. For instance, my last day of work I was walking up the stairs from the lobby and I tripped on the step and fell on my face. It made quite the racket and the receptionist jumped. But, when she turned and saw that it was me, she just shook her head. That is a move she has seen too many times before from me. There was another associate in the lobby who was startled, but relaxed once I rolled over onto my back laughing at myself. I felt it appropriate that I would go out that way. I have made that move in front of numerous visitors who were patiently waiting in the lobby over the years.

I have a new way of drawing attention to myself these days. A couple days before Christmas I had returned with the children from Christmas shopping. My oldest, with an agenda I am sure, announced that he would be happy to clean out the car. I was grateful as we had accumulated quite the amount of garbage in there. I called a friend to pick me up and went to his home to wrap gifts. Christmas Eve we were going to dinner with friends and as we got ready to run some last minute errands before heading out of town, I realized I could not find the keys. I questioned my oldest regarding where the keys were. A blank look spread across his face and despite the hours spent that day, Christmas day, the day after Christmas, the week after Christmas... we never found the keys. So, celebrating my free time to take care of such inconveniences, I spent unemployed day two having the car towed about 45 minutes away to our closest Subaru dealership. Apparently, my car is full of security features, one of which is a feature within the key that requires having the car in a Subaru shop in order to make a copy (or a key from scratch).I didn't spend the extra $130 on the little push button thing to lock / unlock my car.. perhaps that indulgence will be for when I am employed again.

Again celebrating my new found time, I left the dealership with my new key and headed for Sam's Club. I manually (OK - by manually, I mean I pushed the button from in the car since I don't have a little remote any longer) locked the door and headed in to do some shopping. When I came out I put the key in the lock and unlocked the car. Upon doing so my car alarm went off. HONK..HONK..HONK..HONK..HONK.. I quickly got in the car and started it - which luckily turned the alarm off. After one more errand with the same results I called the dealership wondering what I was doing wrong. Nothing. Apparently that is just one more security device the vehicle has. For as long as I put off spending $130 on a remote... I won't be able to avoid making a spectacle of myself every time I get in the car.

I have gotten used to it now. But, I just shake my head in awe. It is so me. So painful to watch me trying to function in life. Sometimes I think Chris must get a kick out of watching my insanity!

MY BOOK OF EXCUSES FOR NOT BEING A BETTER BLOGGER

I don't typically use this site to truly log in like a diary... but I have not exactly been keeping up on my journal either.

I committed to myself that all that was captured here would be the embers.. and all ashes would be left behind. I hope today's entry does not stray from that commitment too much.

Let me just take a moment to say... I hope to get back to blogging soon. My goal was one year. I did well... for quite a while... but I have been bad about it lately. Perhaps I need to update my goal to be 365 posts.

I don't mean to make excuses for my lack of writing... but I know my fellow widows will understand that sometimes life just hits you from all directions. I wish I could offer some consoling words that eventually it stops. I will say I am better equipped, emotionally and otherwise, to handle the storms... but the storms continue to rage.

In the last six months my oldest moved back home after a hiatus of living with his uncle and their family. He has on multiple occasions tested the boundaries, I am certain as a way of questioning if he will be 'sent away' again. He continually comments that life was better there. I know he loved his time there - but I think the comments are just a way for him to test and see if I am going to send him back. He is looking for reaction. His grades are not good. I made the decision to hire a tutor to come in every day. Financially it put a pinch on things - but the stress it has removed from me is huge. He has been vocal about his feelings / or lack of feelings regarding the existence of God. I treaded lightly on those waters, as for any who read here regularly know that my faith in God is unwavering. I credit Him for getting me here today. sane (or at least pretty close to it). I have felt his watchful eye and caring hand for me and my family. There is a part of me that would react with anger at the mere mention that God does not exist. For - how could my son be so ungrateful. We have so much. God has truly compensated in our lives for the loss of my husband. I bit my tongue... spent many hours on multiple occasions listening and did a lot of praying to know when to stop biting my tongue (it was starting to hurt) and when to open my mouth and what to say when I did. Currently we are taking a hiatus from his life of "atheism". He commented to me the other day that things are better at home. We are all getting along better. I could tell you the moment it changed. And perhaps I will someday. For now, I will just say that my Father in Heaven truly loves me. He is there for me and answers my prayers in time. I was given the strength to endure and the words to say when needed. I don't believe that battle is over - but it has quited for now. His behavior in church was such that he was "eliminated" from his Sunday School class. I feel badly for the poor Bishopric member who showed up at my house and had to witness my tears and pleading that SOMEONE would help me in my efforts of single parenting. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is perfect in its organization. As 'men' we are not always perfect in carrying it out. I 'should' have resources available to me... a home teacher.. a Young Men's president, something. I felt alone. I am tired of trying to do it alone. This poor man had to sit and endure my tears and pleadings for help. After he left I got a hold of myself and stopped feeling sorry for myself and realized that my oldest may not have 'local' support like I wish he did - but because of my calling at church he has the attention and interest of the Stake YM President and his councilors.. they seek him out.. they call him at home. They challenge him to complete things and to stretch himself. They have a relationship with him. We are not without anyone... God fills in where needed.

My calling at church has taken some time for me to begin to settle in to. I still feel very inadequate and out of my element... but I am starting to 'settle' and 'catch up' on all that needs to be done.

I have been given a date for my last day at work. Up and down... up and down...they have finally eliminated my position. This is not a surprise. I saw it coming for a long time. They have taken care of me on my departure... another blessing from above. I suppose I should be concerned... single mother and all... but even my kids are looking forward to it. My friend's eight-year old son asked me what I was going to do. I told him I am going to just be a mom for awhile. I miss that.

All this and more has encompassed the last few months of my life. The addition to it all is I am dating someone who is wonderful. Finding the time to dedicate to fostering that relationship is near impossible.. but as with everything in single parenthood it becomes a game of prioritization. Less gets done around the house in exchange for time with someone great. But - alas I am and always have been a bit of a 'freak show'. So, while the entrance of this person is wonderful... there are a slew of emotions to cope with along the way. Perhaps I will touch more on that another day.... I could say a lot about that.

My good girlfriend is undergoing chemo for breast cancer. She just started a week or two ago. My husband's cousin was just diagnosed with breast cancer. My friend from work is working on recovering from non-hodgkin's lymphoma, and a friend from my b.w. life (that is Before Widowhood) is battling cancer with her young son. I am looking forward to some time of not working.. perhaps will give me a chance to give back to everyone that has given to me.

I'd say enough whining!! On to blogging!!! But - really I hope you read this with the right tone. I am not whining. I still testify that my Father in Heaven loves and cares for me. He knows me. And He must see potential for more growth in me... cause the storms still rage. I am glad He has confidence in me! :)

I AM CRAZY

I am crazy

I tell people that, but they don’t always believe me. I guess it is all in how you define it.

My crazy: I run on hyper-speed most the time. I have trouble sitting down and relaxing. I get pushed closer to the edge with every item that hits my “to-do” in a day that I didn’t anticipate. If you mess with my time, or waste it in any way, watch out. I over react to certain situations especially when I am tired (which happens to be most the time).

That is my crazy… what I am still working on… is how to fix it. I don’t know. But, I can tell you my “now” crazy is nothing like what my “old” crazy was. This is much more intense. It is odd the ways that widowhood changes you.

I HAD A DREAM

In an effort to capture some lessons... today I reflect on a dream I had. It was about nine months after Chris passed. My whole life seemed crazy. As a mother, I felt ineffective. At work, I felt exhausted. My house, needed attention. And I had recently started a relationship with Guy #1 that was not going too well at the time and was exhausting me.

One night I had a dream. I was somewhere and they were training and working with these sharks. I was in the water and this shark attacked me. My instinct was to fight back and get my arm out of his mouth, but the thought came to me to be calm and wait. So, I sat there not moving and the shark did the same. My arm was still in his mouth, but he wasn't biting harder or anything like that. Then one of the trainers saw the shark had my arm and began to wrestle with the shark. He ended up losing his hand and several fingers. The shark died a short time later.

I woke up from that dream feeling like it was a message to me. I needed to be calm and I would hurt less. Eventually it would all pass - but in the meantime it would hurt less if I was calm.

I was empowered by the mental energy that came as a result and things changed.

I need to remember that lesson more. Be calm.. and you will hurt less. In time, things will pass.

SINGING

I think you know me well enough now... don't you? Is there anything I could tell you that would shock you? Or, have I adequately prepared you for the fact that if anything, I am a little bit crazy and always unpredictable.

My husband had a wonderful singing voice. The ability to sing was on my "must have" list for a husband as I am not blessed with such a talent but certainly wanted that to be an option for my children. My inability to sing was often a source for laughs in our marriage.

On one vacation we were driving through a country road on our way to my grandparents. On the side of the road sat a blue tractor with a 'for sale' sign. I am a bit of a people watcher.. and enjoy imagining how people got where they are in life. I started questioning my husband what his guess was for why that tractor was for sale. As we continued the drive... I wrote my husband a little song..

Got a tractor for sale
Tractor for sale
Such a pertty color blue
Had 'er ev'r since she new
Got myself a new wife
Headed for the good life
Got a tractor for sale
Tractor for sale
She runs just like a peach
But now I'm headed for the beach
Got a tractor for sale
Tractor for sale

This song became one of my favorite to sing to my husband whenever we needed a laugh or were messing around. To compliment my lack of singing, I could throw in my great country twang.

In the last hours of Chris' life, watching him struggle to breathe was difficult. He had a seizure in the afternoon as the children were leaving and had not woken since then. He just laid their seemingly sitting on the edge of this life and the next. I just wished for him to be released of the pains of this mortal body. I wanted him to 'go'.

I sat on the edge of his bed talking to him. In my crazy ways I said to him, "I bet if I started singing to you, that would make you leave quicker". And so I sang... Got a Tractor for sale... tractor for sale.... He stayed a few hours more, it didn't seem to hurry his departure. But somehow I believe his spirit was laughing.

I DON'T DARE TELL HIM THE TRUTH

To illustrate for you how my lack of being able to be everywhere I need to be when I need to be there has worked... I will share one experience.

Last year my youngest son wanted to participate in an after school club. Again, my lack of socializing and actually KNOWING the other mothers takes its toll in moments like this. I don't know anyone that I can ask to bring him home who may also happen to be there picking up their child. Isn't that pathetic? Really it is.. I know. I figured it was only a couple times a week for about six weeks. I talked to my boss about the possibility of just skipping lunch on those days and running out later in the day to pick my son up from school. My boss was fine with this. It worked out fine the first few times I went to pick him up. Then one day I was particularly busy at work. I had not even given one thought to the fact that is was a Tuesday, which meant I should be picking my son up at the school. About 30 minutes after the designated time for me to pick him up - I heard my cell phone ringing - but didn't even bother to check it as I WAS at work and WAS very busy. So I continued working. Another 30 minutes later my phone rang again. This time I glanced at the caller id and regretfully recognized the number as coming from the school campus. Immediately my whole body panicked as I realized in an instant that it was TUESDAY! AND it was over an hour PAST the time I should have picked my son up. I answered apologetically. The principal was quite kind. I ran to my car and drove as quickly as legally (kinda) possible to the school.

I parked on the curb and ran in the building. As I walked in, I fully expected my son to be annoyed, upset, frightened... some sort of unpleasant emotion. But he was fine. Seemed completely unaware of the fact that his mother had left him there past the normal time and that the principal and he were the only people left in the building. The principal walked out with us and I profusely apologized.

We got in the car and I asked my son about his experience. Was he worried, what did the principal say, etc. He blankly stated, "The principal told me that I should call you. I told him you were probably in a meeting and you'd come get me when you were done"

My sweet precious little boy. Despite his mother's craziness... still has confidence in me (I didn't dare tell him the truth).

FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!

As I have mentioned before, I have had a relationship (in my book) with three different guys since Chris passed. Only one of those guys did not have children. Nor did he have much experience with children.

My kids loved him though and he was pretty great with them. Although, I don't think he ever took a 'Babysitters Course' and that combined with a few experiences and his lack of past experience.. made him questionable when it came to leaving the children in his care. :) At least at first. He had a lot to learn.

One particular experience happened one summer afternoon. I was inside working on some things on my computer and he walked in the house and said he smelled gasoline. I knew my oldest was outside playing with a friend so I instantly panicked. I asked my friend if he would go see what the boys were doing. He agreed and went to check. He saw my son in the garage and asked him why it smelled like gasoline. My son explained that they had hit the can of gasoline and it accidentally spilled. My friend accepted the story and returned inside. When he walked into the room I was in, I looked up and asked if everything was OK. He said yes, and then casually proceeded to tell me what my son said was the cause for the odor. I stopped typing, looked up at him and froze. You believed him? You took his word for it? You didn't snoop around to find the real story or at least identify the location of the spill? I quickly hopped up and ran outside. Upon exiting the back door I saw four to five feet high flames in my back yard. I grabbed the hose... started screaming at my son... something along the lines of "what were you thinking?" In a panic, my son was responding that he "didn't mean for it to be this big". The chaos continued for another minute or so... the two of us screaming at each other, before I was able to put the flames out.

By this time my friend had come out to see what all the screaming was. I looked at him and said, "And that is why you never believe teenage boys".

He was learning... life was not so simple when you were dating a widow with three children. A widow, I might add, that was losing control!

WHAT WILL THE CHILDREN REMEMBER?

What will my children remember me as?

I wonder that often and also wonder if I am ensuring the future of America's Psychologists with the parenting I am doing.

I wonder if my children will remember me laughing. I laugh a lot. Most psychologists would probably say too much. But, I laugh. When faced with the option to laugh or cry... I will usually laugh. But will the children remember me laughing or will they remember the times that the patience was gone?

Will they remember me curled up in my bed from the days that just weren't good days, or will they remember us going hiking?

Will they remember the times I came home to a broken window or light and my only response was shaking my head or will they remember the times I was exhausted and I would yell at them for hardly anything?

Will they remember that I tried to read scriptures every night with them or will they remember the nights I forgot?

Will they look back at the times we drove by their father's grave - and I would tell them all to wave to their father as good times or that I was losing my mind?

Will they remember me as someone who was different when their dad was here than I was when he was gone? And will that different be good or bad?

MY FRIEND 'J'

As a new widow, I knew other women who were widows, but I did not know any 'young widows' who were in a situation like mine (raising kids still).

Shortly after my husband died I began taking the kids to a bereavement group at Hospice. It was usually a fun activity night that allowed the kids to mingle with other kids who had lost their father and allowed us mothers to talk about life and how we were getting through. We only made it to a few of these before the kids initiated a full revolt against attending these evening. So we stopped.

I did come away from this experience with one very valuable thing. "J". The first time I attended this activity night, I was struck by another lady who was there. She was positive and honest. She wasn't afraid to smile, and helped pick up the other ladies who were there. When the evening was over she and I were walking out together and began talking. She had three kids, as I did - although hers were a few years older than mine. We made it as far as our vehicles and continued chatting about life. The kids sat in the vehicles and turned up the radio while others ran around on the lawn, and others sat there with ornery expressions. But, we just talked. And talked. And talked. We finally caved to the pleadings of the children and exchanged phone numbers and were off.

Here and there over the next five years we would talk. We were very different people but were connected by our similar burdens. I have found great peace in knowing her and watching that somehow we seemed to take similar paths. Words and people and situations might be different - but there was also this strange similarity that gave me peace to see... it is all normal. It is all part of a process. We have both evolved.

I laugh to myself sometimes when I am in the middle of 'crashing'... mentally, physically... she seems to disappear as well. I have quickly gathered that it is because we are on the same train. We can go full speed ahead for awhile... but then we stop. Recover. And then we are back.

If you don't have a 'J' I hope you will find one here. I hope you can read of my experiences and feel understood. Have your feelings validated. Sometimes... just knowing we aren't crazy can be one of the greatest gifts!

YOU HAVE TO BE RICH TO BE INSANE

Losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle class.

My husband was always a dare devil. He found joy in high-risk type activities and "boy toys". I had lots of accidental life insurance on him. I don't know if it was my own insecurity or if my Heavenly Father was preparing me... but I always thought he would die early.

I would have been set for life, if he only died while out riding a four-wheeler or driving too fast down the road. One thing I never considered was that he would die from health issues. He was extraordinarily strong and very healthy. In fact when he first went to the doctor when he was having issues, his doctor told him not to worry about it - he was young and healthy "it's not like it's cancer." Or... it is!

When my husband passed... my life insurance policy was sufficient to pay off a couple bills, pay for the funeral and hospital bills. Then, I was on my own. A single mom with three kids to support and raise. I only took a week off of work. Then, we started to get on a schedule. I would get the kids off to school then get myself dressed up and head for work. I would cry the entire way there. When I would pull in the parking lot I would wipe the tears from my eyes, take a deep breath - and be glad my office was just off the back door.

I had a family to support. There was no time to let myself go completely off the deep end. I had to stand on the edge... half functioning... half crashing. I think I would have gone insane, completely insane, if I didn't have to remain in working order. Yes, you have to be rich to be insane... losing your mind is not a luxury for the middle-class.