What I’ve Learned So Far…

People are Amazing. The kindness, compassion and love I have been shown and continue to be shown just blow me away. There is so much good in people, it’s almost hard to believe. My friends, family, work family, Andy’s friends, and new friends I’ve made who have suffered the same loss have truly made all the difference. I don’t think I would still be here if not for all of you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I have a long way to go, but your support sustains me every day. You rock!

What’s Important. Love, that’s what it’s all about.  It’s not money, it’s not fancy houses, it’s not expensive cars or big job titles. What’s important is family and showing love and compassion for each other and making any positive difference we can. To quote Margaret Mead, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful people can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.”

I am a Different Person Now. Completely different. I'm more introspective, calm, compassionate. I have a weight that I will carry the rest of my life, even on the best days. It’s a literal weight like carrying a load on my back. I have come to realize that this weight is a permanent part of me now, some days lighter, some days heavier, but always there. But, very importantly, this weight is a constant reminder of the meaning of life. In a way, it’s a gift. Things that used to bother me don’t even faze me anymore because they are simply not important nor part of my reason for being here. Besides, nothing worse can ever happen to me. All else pales in comparison. There’s something freeing knowing that the worst thing that could happen to you already has.

I am a Strong Person. I have sustained the ultimate loss, yet I still breathe. Not only that, but I strive to be happy and find a reason to go on.  We’ve all said “I don’t think I could go on if I lost my child.” I’ve said it many times in the past.  But the truth is, I can and I will. I owe it to Andy. I’ve learned that it is possible to thrive amid the most insurmountable pain.  There is nothing I can’t overcome. I am woman, hear me roar J

Gratitude. So much gratitude. For those who carry me through these dark days, for being given the gift of understanding what counts in life, for being more open and in tune with the present and seeing the beauty all around me. That our last words to each other were “I love you.” That my baby is incredibly happy in a place of peace and unconditional love. And my greatest gratitude is being given the privilege of having my beloved Andy for 22 beautiful years. He was incredibly special and gifted and wonderful. They were the best years of my life.

Andy's and My Bond is Forever. I loved my son with every fiber of my being. Still do. And he loved me too.  His love is a beautiful legacy he leaves me. Sometimes I feel his love surrounding me so strongly that it brings me to tears.  I can feel him cheering me on and helping me. I will carry my love for him for the rest of my life. He is with me always, part of me, part of my heart.

 

Say it LOUD and a special request....

Something special happened to me yesterday. I stopped at the drugstore after work to pick up a few things. As I was checking out, a cute little girl was asking the lady in front of me "Are you are a mom?" The lady distractedly said yes and left the store. Then the little girl walked over to me and asked me "Are you a mom?"  I thought about it for about one second and said "Yes, I am." Then she said to me "Say it, say 'I'm a mom'." So I did, and it brought a smile to my face. Then she said "Say it LOUD. Say 'I'm a mom' REAL LOUD." So I did! She got a big smile and said "that's how you do it!"  It made my heart soar to say those words and say them out loud. You see, although I do not have a living child, I am still a mother. I have a beautiful angel child who made my life complete and made me ecstatically joyful for awhile while he was here. I am the mother of an angel. I AM A MOM forever. I felt like she was a little angel on earth sent to give me that reminder. Out of the mouths of children. She and her mom don't know this, but they made a total stranger so so incredibly happy, and I'm filled with gratitude for that interaction. I am a mom, I am a mom, I am Andy's mom! It was real, he was real, and I will see him again someday. 

Which brings me to my request. I am a huge proponent of small random acts of kindness. We don't know the hearts and struggles of all the people we see each day, and we never know what small act of kindness can help someone who really needs a ray of sunshine. Just like that little girl did for me. So I thought about it, and I have decided to share something I started doing and ask you to join me. I wanted to do something to honor Andy's memory, so I made up little cards to give out with a small gift. It doesn't have to cost anything. It could be something as simple as a flower you picked or a picture you drew. Or if you have a little money, maybe a $5 gift certificate to a store or coffee shop...anything like that. Use your imagination! I print off the card, write a little note inside, and attach it with a ribbon to the gift. Sometimes I wrap the gift, sometimes I don't. Leave it in a public place...a bench at the mall, the chair at the doctor's office, on someone's windshield, anywhere! I promise you, it will make someone's day.

The "technical" part:

Click on the upside down text below. It will take you to another window. Select File/Print and print off. Cut down to size.  Fold on the dotted line so "To Any Finder" and the heart are on one side and the message is on the other side. Write a message inside if you like, or not. Leave it with the gift and smile as you walk away. Don't let anyone see you do it...make it anonymous. 

  

Please let me know if you do this and how it made you feel! Help Andy and me share the love.  Thank you!!!!!!

She cooks!

Yesterday was 4 months exactly since I lost my sonshine. I haven't been able to cook since the day he passed away. It was simply too painful to make dinner for just myself and not for me and Andy. I don't know that I'll ever be able to make Hamburger Helper again. I still have 3 boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Cocoa Krispies in my cupboard. God knows I won't eat them, but it gives me comfort having them in there. A little piece of my old normal, I guess.

So last week I told myself I couldn't live on takeout food forever. It's not healthy and it's not as good as mine.I decided to try to dip my toe in the water and cook 2 meals a week for awhile to get myself used to the idea. I decided to make something nice and have Ken come over and eat with me. I made a ham recipe I found that was coated in brown sugar and cooked in a sangria/pineapple sauce, mashed potatoes, and fresh peas from the farmer's market.  What can I say? It was fabulous! Now, Andy and I both detest(ed) leftovers. They are the worst! So I froze the rest of the ham to use later for ham and cabbage or scalloped potatoes. But cooking that dinner was an important milestone, and I have bought a week's worth of groceries this week for the first time in 4 months. I believe I have broken the negative feeling by forcing myself to cook something. Leftovers are still going to be a problem...can't do it...won't do it. But maybe I can learn to adjust recipes. We'll see. I'll worry about that later. For now, I'm focusing on making at least 2 home-cooked meals and maybe more!

I'm really trying to take baby steps forward, and here's why...something important was confirmed for me yesterday. Andy wants me to be happy, and he needs me to be happy. A couple weeks after he died, I was having a conversation with him, and I clearly heard him say to me "Lighten up, Mom. It's going to be ok." I was literally drowning in grief at the time and it just wasn't possible, try as I might. I was just trying to breathe. Each day breathing becomes a little easier despite the cavernous lows I still feel on some days.

Anyway, I was reading the blog of a bereaved mother yesterday. Her son had been gone a year, and she had recently had a major breakthrough. Let me first say that we grieving mothers are able to feel our chilren's sprits and have conversations with them. That's because there really is no death, just another realm. The woman's son told her that he really needed her to be happy in order for him to be completely happy and he further said "Lighten up, Mom." Sound familiar? I was blown away that she heard the exact same message from her son that I had heard from Andy. Later I went to Ken's to cook out. He had had a very bad several days in the abyss, but he seemed much better. When I asked him why, he said he had felt Andy's presence helping him and telling him "Lighten up, Dad!'  THREE times "lighten up" called to mind in one day. There are no coincidences.

So, my life's goal moving forward is to lighten up and try to enjoy the rest of my life, even though it's not as good as it used to be and never will be. I have said from the beginning, "Andy, if you are happy, I can be happy, so please be happy!"  I now understand that I must be happy for him to have the total joy he so deserves, and by God, I will do it. I waited 30 years for him the first time, and I will wait as many more as it takes to be reunited with him. I'd wait on him forever if I had to. I will honor him by being the best I can be and by fulfilling my mission here on earth, whatever that may be. I believe it will be revealed to me in time if I listen to my heart. I will still have horrible days, but I will not let them stay or take over my life. It's all for you, Andy. I love you like no other. You are my sunshine now and forever. Not goodbye, but  'til we meet again on that joyful day. Until that day, may you every moment have the joy of children.

Tears and more tears...

Tears and more tears…

Crying…it’s getting old. Kleenex loves me, though! I really didn’t expect to still be crying every day at this point, but I am. Well, not always, but if I don’t, it’s hell for days after. I cry in my office, I cry in my car, I cry in the kitchen, I cry at home watching TV, I cry in bed at night.

But--Here’s what I’ve figured out. If I cry a little every day, I do much better.  Sometimes I’ll go for a few days tear free…usually when I’m away with friends or family. And I’ll think, “Ok, I’m getting better!”  But then I cry uncontrollably for 2 or 3 days after that. It’s exhausting. Whereas, if I just go ahead and cry a little every day, I’m ok after a few minutes. I guess every tear is going to come out one way or another—pay me now or pay me later. I think I prefer pay me now.

I’ve also figured out that this is going to take a long time. Guess I’m in it for the long haul, like it or not. The first time I went to a Compassionate Friends meeting (about 4 weeks after Andy died), I told the group “I think I’m doing really well, and I’m going to recover really quickly.” And they just said “Oh no, you won’t. This takes at the very least a whole year, and usually more.”  I didn’t believe them at the time…I thought I was different. Wrong! Andy is still in my mind every second of every day. I try to focus on all the happy times and how lucky I was to get to spend 22 years with him. It helps. It also helps to see people who are years down the road…they still have a big empty hole in their heart, that never goes away, but they are able to feel joy again. They are always sad on some level, but they are not the living dead either. They have adapted to the “new normal.” That gives me hope.

I read a quote recently “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love."
~ Washington Irving

I think that says it all. Go forth in joy and power today…

Memorial Day in the Mountains

I spent Memorial Day weekend in beautiful Asheville, NC with my brother Tom, my sister Laurie, and my Mom. Finally got to see Tom's awesome new house. His place is a little slice of heaven. I got there while Tom was picking up my Mom, so I walked around the yard. I looked down and there was a box turtle right at my feet. Too cool! I spent a lot of time sitting on his back porch just enjoying the beauty of the trees and all the wildlife. We never even turned on the tv.

On Saturday we took the LaZoom Art Tour on a puple converted bus. I bought a print for my bedroom. We learned a lot about the Asheville art scene, and saw some great paintings, sculptures, and pottery. At one gallery, I was enthralled with a particular painting. Something about it reminded me of Andy. When I asked the artist what the name of it was, he said "Heaven's Gate." I got a little teary eyed. There are no coincidences. I may end up buying it...just need to think about it because it will be a pretty big investment. Later in the afternoon, we went to the Smokey Mountain National Park to hike and at dusk to watch all the elk come out of the woods to graze in the fields. As we were hiking, an elk walked right across the trail. It was really exciting.  Then we went over to the fields, and sure enough, elk started walking out of the woods and into the field. We watched them for awhile and then went over to another field where a whole group of them were hanging out. It was really awe inspiring. I felt---Happy! Happiness doesn't come to me that much these days, but I loved seeing these incredible animals. It's the closest thing to joy I've experienced since Andy left us. Ahhh, the beauty and magic of nature.

Sunday we all did some exploring and shopping downtown, and Tom's awesome girlfriend, Laura, came along. Asheville has such a vibrant downtown. It's easy to get around in and lots and lots to do. Better than Raleigh, IMHO. I also love the eclectic mix of people there. All types of people are welcome and accepted. You can go to a drum circle on Friday nights with all the "hippies", and then the next day view mansions of the rich and famous. It's very laid-back and healthy there. A great walking town filled with history. We had dinner at one of Asheville's many restaurants. I have yet to have a bad meal there. Most places serve local produce and meats cooked in interesting and healthy ways. After dinner we went to a club and watched swing dancers dance to a great band. Rumor had it that Johnny Depp was in town that night. Anyone who knows me knows I have a major, major crush on Johnny Depp. I kept hoping we would run into him, but alas, it was not to be. Better luck next time!

Monday we went to Brevard for more hiking and waterfall viewing. Oh, it was so beautiful! So, I've been saying I wanted to get back to getting some exercise...wish granted in spades! Whew! Lots of steep uphill climbing, and Mom kept right up like a trouper. Not bad for a 73-year old, huh? And it was HOT, but totally worth it. I sat on a rock next to the waterfall by myself for a bit and thought "this is what heaven looks like." Then I started imagining how wonderful it will be the day Andy and I meet again...in a place just like this. I could see him stepping out and saying "Hi Mom!" It was a beautiful and touching moment. No one knew it, but I was crying. Thing is, they were happy tears. I have something so joyous to look forward to some day. We ate sandwiches we brought with us while sitting on a log. Isn't it amazing how good a simple sandwich tastes while you're on a hike? Yum!

So anyway, it was a wonderful weekend filled with fun and family. It doesn't get any better!

Mother's Day...

I was dreading this day so soon after Andy’s death. It was always my favorite day of the year, which I reminded Andy of each Mother’s Day in a message I always wrote him. So I had to have a plan. I invited Andy’s cousin, Lexi, to come down and stay with me for the week and decided to have a little graveside celebration. It was wonderful having Lexi here. She is a beautiful sweetheart of a girl, and having her here made all the difference.  She helped me brush up on my knitting skills, so I’m back in the groove with that again!

So, on the big day, I invited Andy’s friends to the cemetery for a celebration of his life. We all gathered graveside with brightly colored balloons.  Two of Andy’s friends, Bianca and Jasmine, brought their babies. It was wonderful having them there, and they were enamored with the balloons. It brought a big smile to my face.  Who’d have thought I could smile on this day?  Ah, the joy of children! We all took a balloon. I said how much I loved my boy and all of them and that when we let the balloons go we were releasing sadness and grief and sending up love to Andy.  Then we counted to 3 and let them all go at once. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.  We watched for a good, long time as they floated up heavenward. Several of the kids gave me Mother’s Day cards and gifts and flowers. Bianca’s Mom, Bibi, had come earlier and left Mother’s Day balloons and flowers for me and a beautiful bouquet for Andy, including sunflowers in a bottle with a smiley face on it. It was perfect. There are some beautiful people in this world.

A word about Andy’s friends…I simply love them. They are some of the kindest, coolest, most wonderful people I will ever know.  They have been a Godsend for me. They all keep in very regular touch with me and they give me the love I so miss from Andy.  I don’t think most kids would do that. These are some incredibly special kids, each one unique and wonderful in his/her own way. I hope they know how incredible they are. Kids, YOU ARE UNIQUE, SPECIAL, AND WONDERFUL, AND I LOVE YOU! I’m so proud that my son had such incredibly good taste in friends.

Some of Andy’s friends haven’t been to his grave yet because it’s still too painful and that is PERFECTLY OK. We each grieve in our own way and in our own time. And it will take a long time for all of us to have any semblance of happy or normal again. Grief is a very personal and individual thing, and we will all do it our own way. Me, I still need to go most every day to spend time with Andy’s earthly body. The cemetery is a lovely, quiet place to meditate and talk to my sunshine. My cousin, Linda, said something  beautiful to me that I think about every time I’m there…”when you feel the sunshine on your face, that is Andy (your sunshine) sending his love to you.” Thank you for that Linda!  Ok, now I’m crying, but I’m smiling through the tears. Let there be sunshine!  J

After the funeral...

Before we left the cemetery, Andy’s friends all sang “You Smile” and “We R Who We R”, 2 of Andy’s favorite songs. It was beautiful. We went back to the house where there was enough catered food to feed an army. I understand Paula, my manager, coordinated the whole thing along with donations from many friends at work. Bless their hearts, again, everything taken care of. I will never forget what they did for me.  All of Andy’s friends were there, and it made my heart a little less broken to have their young energy in the house.  I still love when they spend time here…this house was meant to have young energy!

The house and patio were filled with friends and family, and it was nice having them all there. I talked to as many people as I could, reminiscing about all the happy memories. I also spent some time alone. As the evening wore on, my brother, Jeff, pulled out an iphone application called “Fat Booth”, which basically adds 100 lbs. to you. We had more fun with that application, and it felt really good to laugh. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard…it was a great release. My neighbor, John, fixed my back patio gate, which I only found out later. I remember thinking, “Who is the kind person who did that for me?”  John and Patrick continue to take care of me still…thanks, neighbors! They are not just my neighbors, they are dear friends. People stayed pretty late, and I was glad. Eventually it was time for bed.

I spent another couple of days with my family before they had to leave. I hated for them to go. They were a huge source of support and love for me, but they had to get back to their lives. Ken and I headed for a cabin in Todd, NC. It was peaceful and healing. He took care of everything. I think it was one of the few times in my adult life that I let someone else completely take care of me instead of being the responsible one. He cooked, made me eat, cleaned up, drove, figured out what we would do, made a big fire every night in the fireplace. I could truly just be, and it saved me. He saved me that week. We went to downtown Boone several times and walked around, ate at restaurants, and tried to feel normal. We were both just shell-shocked.  After 5 days, we came back home to our sadly quiet, empty houses.

I went back to work after 3 weeks. I could have easily taken a year off and lived in a cabin in the woods healing and figuring out who I am now, but real life must go on.  They continue to ease me back in gradually, which I am deeply grateful for as I still grieve so badly, and my memory and sharpness are still not back to normal.  But I have faith that in time they will be.  I search each day for at least one thing that gives me joy and gratitude because I must go on, like it or not. I want to live my life fully, not mourn what I’ve lost forever. It’s what Andy would want for me, and so I go on.