Happy Birthday Sonshine!

Twenty-three years ago today, Andrew Edward Katchuk came into this world. It was a Monday. I remember because I thought, "oh yay, I don't have to go to work today!" They said "It's a boy" and I heard his first cries...oh, what a beautiful sound! Then they placed him in my arms for the first time. It was instant love, absolutely instant! Then they whisked him off, and after pressing on my stomach for what seemed like forever (ouch) and a few stitches, they sent me to my room.

I was absolutely starving, so they brought me a huge tray of food. I ate every last bite, and yes, the hospital food tasted like the best meal I had ever eaten. I was also exhausted, and I fell asleep with a full stomach and a heart full of love for MY new baby. It was just too good to be true. Truly it was the best day of my life (except for all the days and years to come with my precious son).

Some time later, I woke up, probably because the epidural was starting to wear off. I thought, "Oh, this is starting to hurt a little." And as the minutes clicked by, and it eventually wore off all together, it really, really hurt. I remember telling Ken, "Wow, nobody warned me about this part." But I didn't care, I was ecstatic. One of my friends from work had had her baby the day before, so I walked down to see her...very sloooowly walked down haha! Later that day, they brought Andy in to stay with me...it was so wonderful. I was sitting in bed just crying my eyes out. The nurse asked me what was wrong, and I said "I'm just so happy!" Can you say "hormones going crazy?"  :-)

Fast forward to 22 years of being a Mom. They were years filled with love, joy, and some pain...but overwhelmingly joy. I had the best son a mother could ever ask for and I am so deeply grateful that I got to have this handsome, loving, intelligent, wonderful person in my life. It's so hard now, but it was all worth it, and if I knew then that he would die so young, I would still do it. Thank you, Andy, for the best years of my life. You are forever in my heart, my soul, my memory. I can't wait to see you again. What a wonderful day that will be. I love you sonshine.

All my love,
Mom

Reflections on a beautiful day...

I woke up this morning to the sound of wind chimes. I bought these chimes in memory of Andy. They say “When the wind blows, know that I am near.”  It was such a pretty sound, and I knew my baby was near, so I woke up with a smile on my face. This was important because every day I wake up happy but then it goes away. In those first few seconds of wakefulness, I forget Andy is gone—I’m happy--but then I remember, and sadness immediately falls over me. Today was different. It was like he was waking me up and saying “Good morning Mom! I’m here!” He’s been on my mind so much lately because his birthday is in a few days. Today it’s like he’s sticking close to me all day. Thanks baby!!! I noticed, and I love you with everything I am. And it’s such a gorgeous day!! The sun is bright, there’s a chill in the air that is so welcome after such a long, hot summer. I think it’s going to be a great day. 

I’m reflecting on so many people and how they have loved me and carried me through these awful months. 

·        My family, always there, always reaching out to me. I have the best family and I love you! How blessed I am to have 7 incredible brothers and sisters who love me unconditionally and have always been there for me. My mom, the best mom in the world. To know her is to love her. She is an amazing, compassionate, beautiful woman. My Dad, whose presence I feel helping me from heaven. Lexi, who graciously spent Mother’s Day with me and made it bearable.

·        Andy’s friends and their parents, who have stayed in touch when you didn’t have to.  Kids, I couldn’t love you more if you were my own children, and I have officially adopted you. You are my link to Andy. You are so wonderful, and I’m proud that my son chose you as his friends. I will be here for you always, I love you, and I believe in you. Reach for the stars—I look forward to all the great things you are going to do in the years to come.

·        Hanna’s parents, who showed their support by coming to the calling hours and funeral despite their still-fresh sorrow. The compassion you have shown us touches me to my soul. 

·        My coworkers who so graciously and kindly helped me adapt to being back at work. Kim and Crystal who carried most of the burden at work and never made me feel like I wasn’t doing enough, bless their hearts; who let me talk about Andy, shared their kids’ stories with me. Loved the noodle necklace! It has a place of honor in my room. Paula who eased me back in with such compassion and who continues to look after me still. My whole team and extended team who have just been angels and have dealt with my mood swings and forgetfulness (can you say asking the same questions repeatedly?) with kindness and a blind eye. My work friends, you are family to me.

·        My dearest girlfriends, sisters in spirit--Gail, Janine, Betty. I love you and wouldn’t have gotten through this without you!

·        Ken, the one person on earth who truly understands my pain and is the person who, with me, created such a beautiful son. You got me through the first dark days and carried me, comforted me, cried with me, shared memories with me. You carry me still, and I am filled with gratitude and love for you. I believe I might be dead now if not for you, the pain has been too great. Thank you for saving my life.

I’m reflecting on why I thought some things were important--money, prestige, wearing the right clothes, being “important” at work, having a spotless home, day-to-day noise. It truly perplexes me. I was so clueless, but I am a different person now. Now I appreciate the sunshine, kindness, friendship, lending a helping hand, health, nature, a roof over my head, a laughing child, my dog greeting me like she hasn't seen me in a year when I come home, time alone, making *others* feel important, faith that there is a God who is looking out for me and will reunite me with Andy one day, precious memories that can never be erased.

I still cry, but I’m also able to see the glimmer of hope. And that glimmer is very strong today. Thank you beloved Andy for waking me up this morning!! Love you forever Sonshine!!

One foot in heaven...

Last week I took a wonderful trip to Italy and Switzerland. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. I went with one of my friends who had to go there for her job, so I had a free place to stay. I used my frequent flyer miles to get there, so the trip cost almost nothing. Don't you love getting something wonderful for almost nothing? I was very ambivalent about going, but I'm so glad I did. I've come back with a sense of peace and awe that I haven't felt since Andy passed away.

The Grand Tour:

Parma - home of Parmesan cheese and prosciutto ham. Parma has a cute little city center with cobblestone streets filled with cafes and shops. Probably the best part of Parma was the food. Food is everywhere there! You go for a drink, the bars have all kinds of food set out...incredible paper-thin ham and salami, cheeses, pastries. Breakfast is a vast buffet of meats, cheeses, yogurt, fruits, fresh-baked breads and pastries. It was truly breakfast fit for a king. And the coffee--just incredible, full of flavor, a great way to kick off your day. The good news is you walk so much that you don't gain weight! Parma was my introduction to Limoncello--nectar of the gods! It is a liqueur made from sugared lemons. It is very tasty and the most fun buzz I've ever experienced. The people there were so nice to us. I don't think I paid for more than one drink the whole time I was there. People bought us champagne, Limoncello, Prosecco wine. We had so much fun getting to know the locals, and though we didn't speak Italian and they spoke very little English, I felt like I made some great new friends.

Florence - city of art. How do I describe the beauty and awe of Florence? Everything there is ancient and on a grand scale. There is something sacred about seeing the great sculptures of Michelangelo. They were so big and so intricately detailed. It was absolutely incredible. I was just amazed that a human being could possess such talent and ability. Although Michelangelo was also an incredible painter, it is said that his true love was sculpting. Truly a great master.  And then there were the cathedrals...huge works of art that in some cases appeared to be 4 blocks wide and reached high into the sky. They were towering structures, full of color and sculptures built into the facades. How did they do it??? We went into a monastery sanctuary. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, candles were burning on the altar, it was truly a holy place. The ceiling was an intricately carved mahogany work of art. I sat there for a long time with my eyes closed just drinking in the quiet and sacredness. I felt as close to God as I ever have. Then down into some neighborhoods, where there weren't a lot of tourists. The cobblestone streets were winding and narrow. People had their laundry hung out just like in the pictures you see. I loved it!

Lugano, Switzerland - my favorite place of all, and we ended up there totally on a fluke. One of our drivers told us not to go to Milan "just a big city" and go to Lugano instead. Boy, was he right. Lugano is an incredibly beautiful little town in the Swiss Alps. We went by bus, and as we were waiting, I got stung on the neck by a bee. Some sweet lady pulled a vial of some liquid out of her purse and poured it on my neck. It really helped!  We passed through Lake Como and Bellaggio. I looked out the window with tears running down my face because Andy had been there as an exchange student and we had gone to the Alps together on vacation. I was filled with his spirit and a heart full of love and deeply precious memories of our time there together. I felt that he was right there beside me holding my hand and saying "didn't we have a wonderful time here, Mom?" It was one of the most precious moments of my life. You get to the center of town by walking down incredibly steep, curvy cobblestone streets, no cars allowed. There are hundreds of cute little shops and cafes. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. And the view!!!! Imagine a backdrop of the majestic Alps with homes, a whole village really, built into the side of the mountain, all overlooking the most beautiful, big lake. It felt like I had one foot in heaven.

I have felt like I have one foot in heaven since Andy died. Part of me, and half my heart went over with him, never to return. Being in this awe-inspiring place is the best way I can describe to you what I mean. And being there brought me a sense of peace and understanding of the grand scheme of things. I feel like part of a veil has been lifted for me...the veil that separates us from heaven. I understood that Andy can reach through that veil any time, and he does. He is not gone, and if I let my mind reach through, I can touch him and be near to him any time. Thank you Lugano for giving me this life-changing gift of understanding. I am truly at peace now, and I think I can go on and make it.

I Hate You, Go Away...

Well, grief has reared its ugly head again. I guess it all started on Friday. I felt sick all day at work and then by the end of the day got really sick. I was supposed to go to Gail’s house in Hampstead this weekend. Felt better, physically, on Saturday, but didn’t go…just wanted to be alone. I cried and cried all weekend. Grief has come back for a visit. I HATE you grief. I’m sick of you. Just go away once and for all. I want to SCREAM at you “GET OUT OF MY LIFE!” How long do I have to put up with you? You steal my joy. You remind me over and over that I’ll never have grandchildren, I’ll never be called Mom again, my life won’t be what I dreamed it would be. I HATE YOU!!!!!!

That was Friday, Saturday and Sunday, ah, but today is a new day.  I decided to get up early and do something productive. I went to Logan’s and bought some tulip and iris bulbs and some Lantana to plant at Andy’s grave, and headed off to the cemetery. I put on my gardening gloves, took out my trowel, and got to work, all excited. Stuck in the trowel and discovered this earth is like concrete…I mean, seriously, and I’m thinking this is going to take a lot more time and energy than I expected.  Dig, chop, twist, dig, chop, twist. I’ve planted a lot of flowers in my life, and never worked this hard. The sweat was pouring off me. So I got this idea to pour water on the dirt. Not only did it not soften the dirt, but it created huge mud puddles in the holes. Then it started to rain. But I was a woman on a mission, and frankly the rain was a blessed relief from the heat and humidity.

I was bitching to myself and telling Andy, “I hope you appreciate this!” Haha! We had a good laugh about it together, and I smiled for the first time in 3 days. I hung in there, and stubborn determination took over my mind and body. I felt no pain and time passed without my noticing. Two hours later I was done, and I’m pretty sure I heard the theme song from Rocky coming down from the sky J  Hurray!!!!! I hope hope hope everything is planted deep enough, but I dug as deep as was humanly possible today. So maybe at some point I’ll have to go back and deepen the holes, but that’s for another day, after prolonged heavy rains, and with much coffee in my system.

I stood up, enjoyed the beauty of the newly-planted yellow Lantana, smiled, and told Andy I loved him. My hair and clothes were dripping wet, I was covered in mud, my knees and back were killing me, but I felt GOOD! I think I got a lot of anger and aggression out today, and it helped a lot.  Bye bye grief…don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!

I know this is a roller coaster, and grief will be back again, but for now it’s gone. May it stay away for longer and longer periods of time because it sucks worse than anything on earth. Grief, I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!! And that’s ok.

Random thoughts...

Sad day. One of the moms in a grieving parents group I belong to committed suicide this week. She was 2 years down the road in her grief journey. How can this be? It scares me because she seemed like she was doing well. I must say, though, that I totally get it and I'm happy for her. I hope she and her son had a joyous reunion. I cry for her family though. I know she was really trying to go on with her life. I am more determined than ever to try to go on and find joy. Every day I tell myself that when one door closes, another opens. I'm keeping my heart open to the love and happiness that I must believe are still possible. Please say a prayer for her. Her name was Susan.

Some random thougths that are running through my head today:

How is it possible for you to be so devastated and yet your heart keeps beating?

Tell your children you love them every day. Don't sweat the small stuff. Be grateful for every precious moment you have with them. Do it for me and do it for you.

Life is short. Live every day and make it count.

Take lots of pictures!

Most things that seem important aren't usually that important.

Be compassionate. Be kind.

Say Andy's name. It's music to my ears. Don't be afraid to talk about him because you think it will remind me he's gone. Trust me, I haven't forgotten. He's on my mind every single second of every day. It makes me happy to hear his beautiful name.

Please know that I'm not "over it" yet. I never will be, but I'm trying hard to go on in joy. If I seem distant, it's just that I'm still trying to work things out in my mind and heart. It's still hard to be around groups of people. I do better one-on-one or around a few people.

Try not to feel bad if I cry in front of you. You didn't cause it, and the tears are healing. One of the greatest gifts you can give me is to let me cry unashamed and just be there or even cry with me. The tears sneak up on me at the most unexpected and inopportune times...the grocery store when I see his favorite foods, when I hear certain songs, when I find some of his artwork in a drawer at work. Last week my realtor's associate, who was showing me houses in his absence, asked me if I had children. When I told her I have a son, but he passed away in February, she cried and hugged me and told me she couldn't imagine losing her children. She probably doesn't know this, but she couldn't have handled it more perfectly. She didn't feel bad about asking, she didn't clam up. She just shared my pain for a moment, and I was deeply touched. You'll probably never see this Rebecca, but thank you. You are a kind, compassionate woman.

Share your children with me. Tell me all the wonderful things they do. Ask me to babysit them. Show me their pictures. Tell me funny stories about them. Your children and their lives make me happy, not sad.

Thank you for letting me talk about Andy. I don't have any new stories, but I have precious memories that I love to share.

I love my friends and family. They are such a gift.

There are people in this world who love you and need you. Be grateful for that and love them back.

Live with conviction and fearlessness.

Give people the benefit of the doubt.

I am blessed.

I hope you all have a beautiful day!

Just Say 'No'...

WARNING: If you support D.A.R.E., you probably won’t like this post. Just warning you up front.

Just Say No…

You may find this hard to believe given the fact that my son died of a drug overdose, but I think all drugs should be legal. The “War on Drugs” is a dismal failure, and in my opinion, just some feel-good rhetoric pretending to be a drug resistance program. It is a huge waste of money.  Let’s start with the D.A.R.E. program. My sweet young son won first place in the D.A.R.E. essay contest. He read his essay in front of the whole school. He won an impressive looking medal and certificate. He was never going to take drugs, no sir! The truth is, it doesn’t work, and there are plenty of studies to support that fact.  One example of such a study was done by Dennis Rosenbaum, head of the criminal justice department at the University of Illinois, Chicago. Dr. Rosenbaum’s study tracked over a thousand students at 36 schools for six years. His study found that “Students who receive D.A.R.E. are indistinguishable from students who do not participate in the program.” There are plenty of other studies that show the same thing.

Several cities across the country have already dumped or are looking to dump the program--Minneapolis, Boulder, Houston, Oakland, Seattle and Omaha, to name a few. And guess what, DARE is hugely expensive. Despite its ineffectiveness, the program receives millions of dollars in support, and you and I are footing part of the bill.  Yet kids and young adults all across America can’t get any health or dental care because they or their families can’t afford the insurance.  What is wrong with this picture? In my opinion, it would be far better to legalize drugs, and likely wipe out most gang activity and illegal drug trafficking immediately.

Further, we need to treat the addicts with compassion and provide treatment, not throw them in jail.  Does anyone honestly believe people like being addicts? Even ultra-Conservative, “I’m always right”, Rush Limbaugh had himself a big, fat drug addiction to Oxycontin.  He got addicted because of back issues. This can happen to ANYONE. Nobody says “I think I’ll become a drug addict.” Oxycontin kills plenty of people, and it doesn’t care if you are rich, poor, lazy, wonderful, hateful, liberal, conservative, or from the best family in America.  I read recently that there isn’t a heroin addict out there that didn’t start with Oxy in some shape or form.  And how about a Good Samaritan law?  So many lives are lost because people who are at the scene could call for help but don’t out of fear of being arrested. I believe my son would be alive today if we had such a law.  NC does not have one. What a shame. We have to start treating addiction as the disease it is or I see a lot more problems in our nation’s future.

You can think I’m wrong, you can disagree with me. That’s ok. But I have lived this nightmare, and I wouldn’t wish it on any parent. Drastic times call for drastic measures. I’m mad as hell, and I won’t sit back and support useless feel-good crap programs like DARE anymore!

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.