Tonight's Raw Pain

I am sick of walking to bathroom, so I brought the roll of toilet paper to the table. I can't stop crying. I have tried, but I can't. My nose is as raw as these emotions. God is not going to save my Mom. He has saved her spirit and soul in every sense of the word, but not her body. She has loved Him and lived her life for Him and now, He needs her closer. But I need her too. I need my Mom.

I never asked to start living this "New Life". The one that threw me into 'club widow' at the age of 29, but I did it. I picked myself up by the bootstraps and did it...I'm still doing it. Now, I've begged and pleaded and sobbed and am sobbing because I am not strong enough for the next, "New Life." The life without my Mom. I am not strong enough for this. My heart is broken into a thousand little pieces.

As I layed in bed with her today, she fell asleep holding my hand. I stared at her and for a long time, it is my hand. Our hands are the same, right down to the half moon cuticle on our thumbs. Those hands have held me up in my darkest of hours, for 32 years. Now my hands are the ones helping her to bed. I am not strong enough for this.

I must be the most selfish person in the world. My Mother is enduring torture, yet, still I cry... I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR THIS!

I lived in the land of denial for a long time. Reality is a terrible place right now. I deal with this by writing, crying, and sleeping. Jaime calls it my "turtle time" and that is where I feel safe. I am going to go into my shell now and sleep. I am not strong enough for this.

A Prayer

Lord,

There is a woman whom you created in your image some years ago. She is a daughter, a friend, a wife, sister, niece, aunt, a Gi-Gi and wearer of many other hats. She is Your daughter, but in my small world, she is my Mom. She was chosen by You to be this Mother. My sister and I never doubted the absolute fact that she is the best Mom in the entire world. Growing up and still to this day, she taught us that You come first. You are the foundation of all things in life.

I must admit to You that I doubted You when you took my Dan. I doubted you when evil tried to taint the love that Dan and I shared. I grew out of my doubt and have since apologized for ever questioning Your master plan. I told you, even standing at Dan's grave that I knew one day You would make it clear to me. One day.

Lord, I am subdued in doubt again. I am mad at You. Do you not see Your daughter? The woman who speaks Your love? The woman who shines Your light? The woman whose only prayer to you is that this sickness will bring others closer to YOU? Do you hear when she cries out in pain? Do you see her frail frame and bruised veins? Do you see the fatigue on her face? Can you see her Lord?

This woman lives for You!

Do you remember two nights ago when Your sick daughter was lying in the hospital bed? I asked her to eat some pretzels or a bite of a cracker, she couldn't. In her next breath, she said, "Honey, can you eat some?" "I know you must be hungry." "You usually eat around this time, Darlin', and I don't want you driving on an empty stomach." As I am staring at this beautiful (even when sick) woman saying these things to me, I remember the field trips she used to come on with me. If there were a student who didn't have a lunch, my mother always gave hers. She has been a mother to so many, not just Jaime and I. The thought whisked away as the nurse came in. She put her hand on her hip and said, "Your sweet mother would give away the cure if she had it."

No truer words have ever been spoken. She absolutely would. She would because she is the most selfless creature that You ever created.

Lord, she is a woman that deserves to stay on this Earth and touch other lives. I am pleading with you. Put your healing hands on my Mother, Your daughter. Save her life. I know this is far from a selfless request, but I NEED her. Please don't take her too.

Hold Your arms around my Dad who needs so much love right now, continue to make the bond between my sister and I the most cherished and valuable strength resource we have. Pull me out of this shadow of doubt so I can allow the power of prayer work magic, hear the prayers of others, and heal Your child. Save my Mother and heal her pain.

Forgive my outbursts and my angry tears,
Hear me now,

Amen

Blue Jay

You might remember reading about my experience with the lawn mower the summer after Dan died. Just to recap: I purchased a mower, put it together, filled it with oil and gas, just to have it cut out on me every time I mowed one row. I cried, screamed, panicked, pounded the ground with my fist cursing all things living and inanimate until I glanced up and saw the beautiful Blue Jay.

That Blue Jay was an every day occurrence for weeks and months after that moment. He was a symbol of hope and reassurance for the beauty of life. As time passed, he didn't show up daily, however would show his glamorous colors every now and again, reminding me to smile and appreciate my gifts.

Since I've met Nick, and fallen in love again my winding road has been a pleasant stroll through wild wilderness where everything is fresh and every experience a new and very much wanted "first." Who, of those that knew me in the darkest year of my life, would think that I would ever get to such a place on this road? I never did.

Just as I am smiling in the breeze, opening my eyes to other birds and their colors, I feel the Earth shake. It isn't another Earthquake, it's worse. My rock, my friend, the one who has and always will know best, my Mother, falls ill. I find myself swimming in the same pool of WHY???

I feel myself turning around on the road and heading in the opposite direction. I am sad, at times I am manic. Up Down Up Down Up Down, where am I? Did I just laugh and have a good time with friends...because I shouldn't. How can I do that when my Mom is in pain. When my mom is wrapped up in a blanket, tired eyes, bald head in a scarf?

WHY? Do I embrace this selfishly at times and say things like, "You took my husband from me, You are NOT ALLOWED to take my Mom." or "Don't you think I weathered enough?" "I JUST learned how to live again", why WHy WHY?????

While the tears roll down my face they scrape like knives. They remember the route they have fallen in the past and rush down the familiar path. I know hurt. I know pain. How am I supposed to be strong and positive when I haven't yet learned to not "think the worst." HOW? WHY?

As these thoughts raced (like always) during a run yesterday, I found it hard to breathe. Was it the hill I was climbing? The weight I've put on? The weight of the World? Maybe you should just give up, Tiffin. You've run half marathons before...you don't HAVE to do this one. You have a lot on your plate right now, it's ok to make excuses. When you get to the top, go ahead and stop to catch your breath. At the top of the hill I never had a chance to stop. Out of the left corner of my eye, a bright blue friend flew in front of my face. He perched a little further ahead of me on the fence. He watched me, closely. (Yes, you can say that I'm crazy because I wouldn't give up in front of a blue jay) but I didn't. I ran so close to him before he spread his wings and darted into a nearby pine. Hi Dan. Thank you.

Coincidence? Maybe. Divine intervention? Not so sure about that. A myth I allow myself to believe for the purpose of comfort? Possibly. Has the ability to put wind back in my sail, to pony up and face the storm? Absolutely.

The road just got longer and the terrain nothing less than rough. My strength will rise and fall with my spirits. If I have learned anything so far these are the most important lessons:

• Lean on the ones that love you the most. Tell them every day what they mean to you.
• The people that leave this world, are never really gone. Allow their gifts to live on in your character and actions.
• Find the silver lining in the storm cloud that is for casted to stick around.
• Know that you are never walking the road alone, even when there is one set of "footprints."
• Let courage fuel your positive thinking instead of fear fueling depression.
• And, Pray out loud.

To my friends whom have felt the effects of my distance, and sadness lately: I am so sorry. Kym~ I haven't even seen your beautiful baby and that makes my heart ache. Kirty~ I've almost forgotten the sound of your infectious laugh. Hilly~ your text messages make me smile every day, but I need to hug you. Sputty~ My godson and his amazing brothers probably have forgotten I even exist. I am so sorry. Jessi~ Thank goodness we have a date, my life is fuller with you in it. Olivia~ Thank you for being the friend I can ALWAYS call, even at the wee hours of the morning, because you always answer, and we always pick right back up where we left off. To my best friend, My sister~ we talk every day, we text and email constantly, we had dinner last week, but IT ISN'T enough!! Do my sweet niece and nephew even know me anymore?? There might have to be a move in the future. Or I am just going to quit this super stressful job of mine and be their full time nanny. I will work for smiles and the sound of Lilly saying, "TEEEEEEEE, I love you so much."

This has taken me over an hour to write. I had to stop to wipe tears, blow my nose as well as, cry again at a commercial for a Tom Hanks/Sandra Bullock movie that is coming out. Tears are cleansing and so is writing and sharing my thoughts. Your prayers for my Mom are helping, so please keep them coming. If you get a minute the rest of my family could use some too. Love to all.

One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

In some ways it seems like forever ago that I was starting my first "new" school year without Dan, in some ways it seems like yesterday. Tomorrow will begin the school year for 2011-2012.

I've continued down this winding road, and am in a very different place than I was at the start of the last school year. With every passing day, I got stronger. I fell in love again, I've made new friends, new family members were introduced to the world, I ran 4 half marathons, and the issues involving Dan's estate are on the path to being made right.

Yet, again, I find myself with a heavy heart.

I woke up this morning and made coffee and a smoothie for breakfast. I walked outside and felt the warm sun hit my skin in between the blowing short breezes. I thought of the things I wanted to do today (my last day off). I want to run, make sure I'm set for tomorrow, do Marlo's exercises with him...etc. Then all of a sudden it hits me. It is actual pain that shoots from my chest to my bellybutton. My mom is sick, my mom is really sick and there is nothing I can do to make it better. My mom is in pain, emotionally and physically, and there is nothing I can do to make it better. My mom has a really long hard road in front of her and there is nothing I can do to shorten it. The guilt of planning out my day, feeling good, singing along with the radio permeates throughout my body. Now I'm sick, my stomach hurts.

I am really scared. I am also angry and confused. My mother has lived her entire life for the Lord. He is always first, He is always the answer, He is our strength. I don't understand how a woman who has dedicated her life to living and preaching His Word has to suffer. Shouldn't she be a candidate for a pass, a freakin' get out of jail free card? I remember this part of the road from losing Dan. I am mad and trying to answer questions that can not be answered by anyone here on this Earth. It doesn't stop me from asking them, though.

Keep those prayers going for the days that I get too upset to pray. For the days that my words to the Big Man turn ugly because of hurt. I am going to end this with a prayer. I pray for tomorrow to bring me strength and hope in the smiles of precious children. I pray I can lead them to knowledge and morals through example and love. I pray to hold strong, and learn to lean on those around me when I can't. I pray to continue to believe in miracles, and the power of hope.

What A Week

It was Sunday. I got a phone call from my lawyer about our upcoming court appearance dealing with Dan's estate. I've been dealing with issues related to his estate (and the person in charge of it) since moment one of my life without Dan. I fell apart after this phone call. A hard heavy sob came from unknown depths. Was it because there might be a resolution? Was it because the light of truth would finally be shone? Was it because evil and deceitful would be unmasked? Or, was it because no matter what, Dan still wouldn't be here?

This week was going to be hard, time to put on my game face. Late Sunday night: One of my best friends whom has been having a problematic third pregnancy and was confined to a hospital bed, sends a text that reads, "Baby coming now." My heart drops and I immediately begin to pray. I pray so hard and long, I don't even know when the prayer stopped and I fell asleep. Around 1:45 Monday morning, another text came that announced my Godson, Zachary's early arrival. He is little, early, on a breathing tube, but healthy. His mom, lost 80% of her own blood. She had numerous transfusions, and countless other procedures to save her life. TO SAVE HER LIFE. Just writing that, I get chills. We could have lost our Sputty. Thank you to God and all the angels, she is still here, beautiful, and smiling.

Monday afternoon. Anticipation of Marlo's surgery and court are rising. I speak with my step dad and he tells me about a procedure my mom is having the next day, Tuesday. I stifle a cry. I need to get off the phone. I need to call my sister. Jaime answers, I am trying not to sound frantic, but I want to know what is going on with our mom. Jaime tells me, and I lose it. My walls feel like they are closing in on me. I have been self consumed with my own issues, I was not aware of my own mother's. Guilt, confusion, anxiety, and fear come out in the form of hot tears.

It is not my place to announce my mother's business especially via blog, however, I will say the power of prayer is strong. Add her to your prayer chain, my prayer warriors.

Tuesday morning, Nick and I drop precious Marlo off at VOSM (the Ritz of orthopedic surgical facilities). Nick's funny jokes and quick wit keep me from crying. The staff immediately falls in love with Marlo (of course) and he happily trots away with the nurse. Afterwards, I go with Hilly to visit Sputty. We laugh and tell stories. I love doped up Amanda, I love not-doped up Amanda, but she was funny and entertaining. Tuesday night. I get the news from my mom's procedure. It wasn't what I wanted to hear. I break inside, here come those walls, faster than ever. Tomorrow is a big day. I'm nervous, sad, and I can't sleep. Gunner paces around the bedroom wanting to know where his brother is. I miss him too, boy. He'll be home tomorrow.

Very early Wednesday morning, I get up and make coffee. I should have made decaf considering how jumpy I already was. I got ready, called to check on Marlo, nursed a nervous stomach, talked to my sister, got a text from Nick that made me snort laugh (which I needed), and waited for my dad to come pick me up. At the courthouse, my dad, step dad, two lawyers, and I spent the duration of the morning in the hearing. The outcome was justice. It was exactly what should have happened. Actually, it never should have gotten this far if promises had been kept and duties been upheld, and what Dan would have wanted considered, but I digress.

I wanted so badly for when this outcome surfaced, to expose the people who have been the root of this unnecessary pain. I wanted to tell the world, what Dan and I already knew about them before all of this. I don't want to anymore. I feel just as good knowing that THEY know, how wrong they were. BY LAW, BY MORALS, BY ALL DEFINITIONS OF HUMANITY, they know they were wrong.

"All evil needs to succeed is for good men to do nothing." ~ Edmund Burke. I stood up against evil in the name of my late husband, in the reality of what HE would have wanted for me, what he DOES want for me, and evil did not succeed.

As I sit here now, with Marlo drugged and coned beside me, Gunner resting beside him, I think of the past few days. I also focus on what is ahead. There is no end to this winding road, and no promise that it will flatten or be paved. I do, however, have the promise of not walking any of it alone.

My Racing Subconscious Mind

I had to chuckle, because the first sentence I wrote for this blog was, "My mind is insane." That's how I feel sometimes, though. I guess I should phrase it as, "My thoughts are insane." I hate how my mind plays tricks on me, too, especially in my sleep. My biggest fears, saddest moments, total heartbreak, and darkest sides of me, come out and back to me as I dream.

For years now I have suffered from night sweats. Not a light "glow" or "dampness". I'm talking an all out, I need a shower and to change the sheets, kind of sweat. I've been to almost every doctor there is, tried different medications and homeopathic remedies, and a very expensive and bad purchase of sheets that were supposed to work wonders. Dan used to walk into the bedroom as I was changing the sheets and say, "oh great, it's asylum night." I would laugh and roll my eyes even though I did feel bad. These things were bright white and as comfortable as cardboard.

Recently, I have noticed that my worst sweats come with my most intense dreams. Two weeks ago I had a terrible dream about Dan. It was so bad, I don't even want to write about it. I just spent ten minutes explaining it, and then deleted every line. It hurt to even reread. I woke from this dream in a pool. It took minutes to put together the last year and a half of my life and realize that what just happened was a dream. I was sad, then so very angry.

After my anger subsided, a difficult week followed. As, Paul Young explains so eloquently in, "The Shack", The Great Sadness took over. Laughing was a chore, and I felt bad for everyone around me, because I just wasn't myself. I lost sleep and I think it was in some way because I didn't want to dream anymore. A complete feeling of "poor pitiful me" consumed me. I hate feeling sorry for myself, and I couldn't help it, so it made it even worse! I pride myself on being the "glass half full" girl and always biting the bullet, cowboying up, and smiling through it. I get even harder on myself when I have difficulty doing that.

Little things that reminded me of Dan kept popping up throughout the week. Maybe they were signs, but they made me mad. I wanted to talk to him, really, I needed him to talk back.

Everyone always called Dan for advice. Not only was he incredibly smart, he was also an amazing friend. I hope he knows that I never took that for granted. I hope I told him enough.

I go back and forth with finding it hard and easy to have conversations with God. Right now, it's hard for me. I'm not sure why I feel like if I say the wrong thing, I might be punished. Someone else I dearly love might leave my life. I know that's not how it works, so why I try and go about my day incognito toward the Lord, is a mystery to me. I know He is the reason that "The Great Sadness" doesn't last nearly as long anymore. I hope He also understands my confusion. I lay in bed, begin to pray, then my mind goes in a million directions. I forget I was praying and eventually go to sleep.

Today, I want to hug everyone I love. Even though that isn't possible, and my arms can't reach that far; I'm telling you now. Today, I am back to half full, and smiles. Today is another day on the winding road and even though it's 110 degrees, the birds are signing and my cheering section in the clouds can be heard loud and clear.

Everyone who is reading this, I love you, and love the way you have individually touched my life. Thank you. Thanks for staying on this ride with me, even though it's only been bumpy!

The Shack

I love to read. I like to read mystery, fantasy, suspense, love, comedy, and even a romance novel now and then. After Dan died, I stopped doing many of the things I loved. I stopped watching football for a while, I stopped listening to music, I stopped watching any shows that we loved together. I did not, however, stop reading. During that "first year" without him, I actively sought knowledge about grief. Really what I was doing was assuring myself that other people had endured this pain, and survived. I read many books like, "I Wasn't Ready to Say Goodbye", "A Grief Observed", "Widows Wear Stillettos", "The Tender Scar", "Waking up Alone", and "Getting to the Other Side of Grief"; to name a few. Most of the books I read, made me feel stronger, but at times, I read words that would have been discouraging to even non-widows. I swore to never read another Nicholas Sparks novel, or Jodi Picoult, because I didn't need their reasons and words to make me cry, I had my own.

I'm slowly easing back into the reading scene of non-grief books, (currently infatuated with C.J. Box's novels that include the character Joe Pickett.) Before I began the Joe Pickett series, I read a book lent to me by my mom. She didn't really give me any background on the book except that it was a Must Read. I would like to say that my mom had no idea how right she was, but something tells me, yes, in fact she knew exactly what she was handing me as she carelessly put it in my purse one day after a visit.

I took "The Shack" by WM. Paul Young out of my purse when I got home. I read the book jacket, and thought, "Wow, Mom....Do you want me to kill myself?" It sounded depressing, and not at all like the uplifting words I needed to read.

I layed the book on my nightstand amidst the stacks of other to-read books. I don't remember how or why it popped out at me recently, but it did, and I am better because of it. I would love to tell you all about this book, and give my opinions, my views, thoughts, feelings, but I really want you to read it for yourself. I am going to write this:

For about a year and a half (since Dan's passing) there has been hate brewing inside of me. Hate for certain people who care more about themselves than the memory and beautiful life lived by my husband. Hate of being wronged, hate for lies told, and promises broken. Hate for harsh words, and stabs to the back and heart. My favorite phrase to those I spoke about this with was, "At least I'm not the one that has to judge them." I smiled believing and playing like a movie what their judgement would look like. Hoping it would be the hand of God smacking them all down into eternal hell, which is what I feel they have done to me. Would you believe me if I told you this book has turned my hate? Don't get me wrong, you are not going to see me embracing any of these people in a heartfelt hug, or let alone making eye contact, however I do not hate.

What I walked away with from this book is that God loves all his children. Even the ones that make our stomach turn in disguist, he loves them as much as he loves the ones that dedicate their lives to being good. Just like any parent loves their doctor or lawyer daughter as much as they love their addicted/jailed son.

I don't believe that I have to love these people as God loves them, but I do need to forgive them. Not for their benefit, but for mine. I need to release the hate that bonds me to them, and with that, they will forver be let go.

As young girls our mother told my sister and I, "Never say hate." "You can say, dislike, but hate is ugly." And just like the many lessons, she taught me so diligently throughout my life...

She knew exactly what she was doing when she slipped THE SHACK into my purse.