Profound

Profound.  (adjective) having or showing great knowledge or understanding; difficult to understand requiring deep thought or wisdom; very strongly felt.

The past week has been an onslaught of profundity. I felt feelings so strong that my body has been wracked with sobs.  I have felt feelings of such love my body has felt flush with warmth.  I've been intellectually pushed trying to tackle a tough problem at work.  I've once again been faced with questions of why and struggled with ways to take pain away from those I love.

This has left me tired.  My brain is sludgy.  The world seems a bit fuzzy and my bed sounds lovely (ironically this is kinda how the meds made me feel).  Given this state, this post is going to have to be a list of randoms who have really nothing in common other that the intensity of the emotions they aroused.

1.  Jeanne's birthday this year was really hard.  I was on the verge of crying pretty much constantly the day before, the actual day and the day after.   The four years since her death are for some reason becoming very real.  Next week I'll be older than she was when she died.  Sigh.

2.  The girls had a rough week too.  Poor M finally broke down Wednesday night and cried for about 45 minutes.  It upset the entire family.  My sweet boys and her loving uncle finally pulled her out of it.  E couldn't handle it and proceeded to complain about not having socks and the low sodium ham I bought.  Her modus operandi tends to be complaining about laundry, food and mysterious ailments when she can't deal with the heavy emotions coming her way.  At least she's consistent.

3. I worked for four straight days (Frid to Mon) all day and till very late at night trying to get a deliverable done.  It was really hard work and the response from my boss was less than enthusiastic and we've yet to hear from the client.  At least I was working with C on this and I hunkered down on my bed for a change of scenary (and I can close the door).  K and A were at a soccer tourney down in Richmond (yay!  they won!) so at least I didn't have that distraction.

4.  Our 18th anniversary was Monday.  See item #3 and you'll understand how our day went.  The kids were off from school so he schlepped the boys around to get haircuts, mowed the lawn and brought home pizza for dinner.  It sucked.  But at the end of the day, this funny, kind and smart guy is still around and we love each other very much.  We may not always be able to show each other given the craziness of our life, but I know he will always be there.

5. Tuesday brought parent teacher conferences for the little (or not so little) kids.  All four got great report cards for them.  M is holding her own somehow and the consistent message I got from her teachers is that she is trying and engaged in the classroom.  She tests terribly, but our hope for her to get an education and the grades in the end don't really matter.  The tough conference for some reason was little L's.  He's doing great in school, but she commented that he seems tired and gets weepy sometimes when things seem hard.  She also said we need to read with him more at home.  So first my mommy guilt went into overdrive because I don't read to and with him as much as I should.  Then I looked at her and explained that he doesn't always get the best sleep.  He's in our bed most nights around three.  On Sunday night he couldn't get to sleep because he doesn't want to go to heaven.  She looked at me blankly.  I thought most teachers at the small school we go to knew our whole story.  I tried to explain that he still has a lot of anxiety and that the changes in our house still make it hard for him.  "Oh, the girls live with you all the time? I thought you shared them or something."  Good lord. She quickly said something about him telling the whole class about the balloons and we moved on.  It reminded me that while we still live with tragedy everyday, other people just see us as a normal family. This is strangely good and bad.

6.  A little girl in our neighborhood was just diagnosed with a brain tumor.  I'm friends with her mom and it is rocking out little neighborhood.  Surgery was this morning and it went well.  We're waiting to hear the results.  So sad.  So very very sad.

So instead of working for my annoying client I'm sitting her writing a blog post.  I wish I had some profound insight into the above list.  A nugget of wisdom like those pictures one sees tagged on facebook or pinterest.  I got nothing.

47

Today she would have been 47.

My big sister.

We are four years apart, so when I graduated from 8th grade, she graduated from high school.  When I graduated from high school, she graduated from college.

We share November for our birthdays.

We share November for our anniversaries.  The same weekend 3 years apart at the same hotel.  We shared the same wedding dress.

We are now share the raising of these two great kids.

I want to pick up the phone and wish her a happy birthday.  I want to give her a hug.

I just want my sister back.

Happy Birthday Zhea.  Love you, love you, love you.

At Home

I left alone, I left the world I was running,
To be by your side I was dying,
alone by your side I was flying.
I came alone, I've come a long way to get here,
The leaves they fall to my feet, at home,
They mean nothing to me

"At Home," Crystal Fighters

Dinner was done early tonight.  K is working late so it was just me and the kids.  Everyone was at the table, happily eating and joking with each other.  Things felt right.  So right, I started folding laundry and decided we needed a little impromptu sing along and dance party with the old Ipod.

We started easy with a little "Hey Ho" by the Lumineers.  This was quickly followed by "Bonfire Heart" by James Blunt.  The kids all sang at the top of their lungs, inserting silly lines as I danced around the room, smiling and feeling...well, content.

M picked a little ditty by the Waterboys called "The Glastonbury Song" which has become a favorite of hers.  An oldie but goodie for me, but new to her.  She got up, singing and dancing while the boys sang along and clapped their hands.  She was at ease and happy.  The joy on her face and in her movement was precious.  Music can do that to the humans in this house.

Then she caught herself.  Overwhelmed.  She slid out of the room quietly.  That joy is still too much for the girls.  These moments of sinking into our family and feeling at home still feels like a betrayal.  I know not to push it. 

The boys and I are still jamming.  We've learned not to stop our fun all the time to accommodate their grief. 

"All I Want" by Kodaline is on.  "If you loved me, why'd you leave me...All I want is, All I need is to find somebody like you..."

All I want and what I pray for is that those feelings of joy won't feel like betrayal for E and M. That these feelings of of peace and contentment don't still surprise the boys and I when they include the girls.  I guess I just want all of us to feel at home. 

For now Franz Ferdinand "Can't Stop This Feeling" is on and I feel like getting my groove on and rocking out.