Thursday, December 26, 2013


Jameson went to heaven three years ago right about now.  He slipped away from us, right out of our arms into Heaven.  And we knew when he was gone because the room felt empty.  And I felt a little numb.  And sick.  And scared. 

And I remember how much we just wanted to leave, just wanted to go, to just get out of that place where everything crumbled away.  But we had lived in that space for 4 months.  And it was Christmas.  So we had a lot of crap to pack up.  I remember numbly taking bag after bag and just shoving things into them.  Like the whole Christmas trees ornaments and all.  And the nurses helped to take down the pictures and cards that literally wallpapered the room.  And we just couldn't do it fast enough.  And I was shaking and numb and he was gone and were were still there and everything I knew about the world seemed off.  Like I just knew I was gonna miss that bottom step any time now. 

And we walked out to our cars and the nurses helped us load them full of crap.  We left with so much but not what we wanted most.  The only thing worth taking couldn't come with us that cold clear morning.  It was clear and I didn't understand how anything could be clear.  How anything could make sense.  How the sun was still rising in the sky.  And people.  People were still moving and driving and going to work and how did the world not just see that my son had just died? 

But the world kept spinning and my mind kept spinning and I was so afraid.  Afraid of crashing the car.  Afraid of looking anyone in the eye.  Afraid to tell my son that his brother was gone.

And three years later, I'm still spinning around, shaking and a little numb.  And the world still feels a little empty.  And I miss him so naturally, it has become a part of who I am.  He is still gone.  And the world is still spinning.  And I can't stop anything. 

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Hard Week

Holy Buckets this has been a hard week so far.  I've been so busy with everything and Hubs is working so many hours that I haven't had the time or haven't wanted to use the time to write.  As a result, I'm the bucket of cold water all over facebook.  Ah.

Its hard because Hubs is working.  He's working today, tomorrow, and the 26th, which is probably the worst of it.  And such long hours.  And I know its worse for him, but its hard on all of us too.

Its hard because Little Man and Little Lady are so very excited and I'm try so very hard to keep Christmas as a happy and fun time, but really what I want to do is go on vacation to convent and sit and pray and listen to music and not interact with anyone for the whole week.

Kind of but not really.  That would be hard too.  It's all very complicated, these feelings, and desires, all so contradictory and frustrating.  I wrote on facebook that this week will never be joyful for me ever again.  And that wasn't true and it kept me up all night thinking about it.  Because I have JOY today.  So much Joy.  Because JOY isn't a feeling, JOY is a choice.  And I'm choosing it as much as I can this week.

I'm choosing to see the JOY in the fog rolling in that will make it a white Christmas without snow.  I'm choosing to see it in the magic of the lights and the presents and the untamed happiness of my kids.  I'm choosing to be the JOY in giving gifts and baking bread and staying present.

But underneath all this choosing JOY, there is the veil covering the ever present thought that he is gone.  He is still dead and nothing will ever bring him back.   

And the day after Christmas will mark three years since we held him in our arms and said goodbye while he left this earth for far grander places.  And I'm here to tell you all that it doesn't get easier with time.  That pain and sadness and inability to breathe, they never go away.  That gaping black hole that threatens to swallow me whole is still in the center of me.  The scars holding together my broken heart ache so heavily on this anniversary that it feels fresh and broken all over again.  These things never go away.

The only thing that has changed is that I've- we've- learned some pain management, if you will.  We've learned how to live around this pain.  But it is always there and it is never easy.

And tonight, as we wait up extra late for Daddy to make it home and open presents and eat cookies and have fun and make magic, we will work around this pain and do our best to seek the joy.

It helps knowing how good Jameson has it right now.  I mean, he's at the A-list party right now.  I can only imagine.  It helps knowing that he's with Christ.  He's saved.  He's healed and whole.  And someday we'll all get to be at the party together and have this much fun again.

Blah. I'm all over the place and I haven't had coffee yet and I'm not really saying what I need to say.  So, I'm gonna quit for right now and go have a coffee and count some gifts, something that I haven't written down in a while. 

I wish you all a Merry Christmas, full of JOY, peace and love.  And hopefully some good birthday cake; we're doing carrot. 

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

I Killed the Mac

So it's been awhile.

I've been busy.  Really busy.  Busy cooking meals and changing diapers and reading to little boys and cleaning and snuggling with little ladies and not folding laundry or ironing shirts.  If you happen to see Hubs looking all disheveled at work, I swear I forgot he couldn't wear scrubs at his newest rotation... 

Someday I'll have much too much time to iron and dust.  Which is a really good thing considering the backlog I'll have by then. 

But for now, I'm happy to love on this little girl who's trying to help me type as I write this.  And I've missed my writing, but she is more demanding.  And much cuter. 

But I'm here and will hopefully be here more regularly thanks to an unforturnate series of event that led me to killing Hub's Mac(I may never be trusted again) and an amazing Black Friday deal that gave me my very own shiny laptop.  Which is awesome.  I know I'm going to come off as snotty and spoiled with this line, but really, its truth for me: I'd rather share underwear than a computer.  I know, I'm spoiled.  And blessed.  And incredibly thankful. 

And now that I've got my own shiny new laptop, I hope to have more time to write.  I've missed this sacred place in my life. 

But at this very moment, I've got kids who needs baths and bed.  So I'll see you later.  But too much later, unless my computer karma catches up with me...